A Mirror's Curse

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<img src="img/banner.png"> //A Mirror's Curse// is a transgender transformation game created in Twine using the Sugarcube format. In this story-driven adventure, you step into the shoes of Ethan Yoon, an ordinary high school senior enjoying a seemingly typical life. Everything changes when visiting the Autumn Festival with friends takes a strange turn. There, $name encounters Madame Serena, a mysterious seer who curses him after he secretly records their conversation. Her cryptic warning, that the mirror will shift every time he acts on something he cannot see, reveals its true meaning as Ethan begins to transform. He physically becomes more feminine with every traditionally feminine action he takes. In //A Mirror's Curse// you'll navigate the complexities of magic, impress your teachers, and experience personal growth as you journey through your senior year. Your choices shape your story, allowing you to focus on academics, friendships, romance, and more. Explore six unique romance options, four clubs, five potential routes for the future, and three paths for Ethan's identity. Will you resist the changes and cling to your identity, or will you embrace your transformation and uncover a new version of yourself reflected in the mirror? Click ''begin'' to start your journey if you're over the age of 18, or ''exit'' if you're a minor. <<button "Begin" "Intro 1">><</button>> <<button "Exit" "Minor">><</button>> <<button "Play 2025 April Fools Update" "April Fools 2025">><</button>>

<img src="img/aprilfools/house.png"> <<luke>>Well, if it isn't little Ethan, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the first day of senior year. You ready for this, twink?<</luke>> <<ethan>>Hey, Luke. Yeah, I'm ready. Just another year, right?<</ethan>> <<luke>>Just another year? Oh, Ethan, this year is going to be so much more than that. This is the year you finally embrace who you are.<</luke>> <<ethan>>Embrace who I am? What do you mean<</ethan>> <<luke>>Come on, Ethan. You know you're different. You're not like the other guys. You're a little softer, a little gentler. A natural little ''sissy''.<</luke>> <<ethan>>I—I don't know what you're talking about! I'm just... I'm just Ethan.<</ethan>> <<luke>>Sure, you're just Ethan. For now. But imagine embracing your inner sissy. Don't worry, I'll be right here with you. I'll guide you and show you the ropes. You'll be my little sissy project, won't that be fun?<</luke>> <<button "Continue" "April Fools 2">><</button>>

<img src="img/aprilfools/house.png"> <<samantha>>Hey, boys! Heard of the autumn festival at school today?<</samantha>> <<luke>>We were just talking about it. Actually, Samantha, I think Ethan here needs a little push in order to embrace his... feminine side.<</luke>> <<samantha>>Feminine side? Do tell.<</samantha>> <<ethan>>I—I'm not feminine! I'm just Ethan!<</ethan>> <<luke>>Well, I think our little Ethan here has a bit of a sissy side. Don't you think so too?<</luke>> <<samantha>>Mhm, I can see that. Maybe the Autumn Festival is just what he needs to bring it out.<</samantha>> <<ethan>>What? No! I don't want to go to the festival! I—I'm not a sissy!<</ethan>> <<samantha>>Oh, relax sweaty, stop being so dramatic. It'll be fun. And you never know when you might find something you like.<</samantha>> <<luke>>That's the spirit! Let's go, Ethan. TIme to start your sissification.<</luke>> <<button "Go to the Autumn Festival" "April Fools 3">><</button>>

''WARNING'' The following April Fools route contains explicit sexual content, frequent use of the term sissy, and is extremely cursed in general. it's intentionally over-the-top, meant purely as a shitty parody. It is not representative of the main game in the slightest. Proceed at your own risk! <<button "Play" "April Fools 1">><</button>>

<<luke>>Here we are at the Autumn Festival. Time to make you into a sissy, Ethan.<</luke>> <<ethan>>I—I'm not a sissy! Stop!<</ethan>> <<samantha>>Let's go to the creepy purple tent in the back! I heard Madame Serena, a sissy seer, is in there.<</samantha>> <<ethan>>I—I don't want to go to a creepy tent!<</ethan>> <<luke>>Oh shut up, sissy boy. Get in.<</luke>> <<serena>>Ah, yes. I sense a great transformation in your future, young man. One that will unlock your true self.<</serena>> <<ethan>>W—what kind of transformation?<</ethan>> <<luke>>A sissy one, of course!<</luke>> <<serena>>Salagadoola mechicka boola Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo Put them together and what have you got A perfect sissy boy Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo<</serena>> <<fethan>>W—what happened to me? Why am I a girl now? But I still have my penis!<</fethan>> <<samantha>>Madame Serena helped make your body match your inner sissy.<</samantha>> <<serena>>Behold, the sissified Ethan! Now go forth and embrace your destiny!<</serena>> <<button "Sissy time" "April Fools 4">><</button>>

<<luke>>Now it's time for your sissy training, Ethan. Let's have some fun!<</luke>> <<samantha>>Come on, Ethan! Join us!<</samantha>> <<serena>>I'm actually a sissy too, little one.<</serena>> <<fethan>>I—I mean if you all say so... I guess I can use my supple sissy body.<</fethan>> <<samantha>>Sex noises.<</samantha>> <<luke>>Wheeeeee! Oinka Oinka! Haaaaaaaaheeeee! A-whoooooga! A-whoooga! Aaaaaaaargh! Hneeeeeeee! Fnrgh! Grunt grunt! Hingggg! Whazzo! Boink!<</luke>> <<button "The end of this cursed route" "April Fools Reflection">><</button>>

Alright, confession time from amaty. When I first started writing this 2024 April Fools update for this game, I took a few shots. I thought that getting drunk would make this horrible idea flow smoother. Instead, well... things fell apart pretty quickly. What started as a jab at sissy games and AI art spiraled into something truly cursed. Honestly, I'm not even sure what I was thinking. I hope it at least made you all laugh, just from how bad it is. If it didn't, then at least you got a look at what happens when you mix a terrible idea with alcohol. Happy April Fools!

You wake up to your little brother, Elliot, pounding on your door. @@.lily;"Ellie!"@@ he yells toward you. @@.lily;"Dad says to wake you up. First day of school."@@ You sit up too fast and kinda just blink at the room for a second. Something about today feels weird in a way that you can't quite explain. Not bad, exactly. just... weird. As if the day put its shirt on backwards and is hopibg nobody notices. You open the door. Elliot's already dressed, his wolfcut tousled. He said it was the latest trend and that he ''had'' to get it. You stare at him for a second too long, confused. @@.lily;"Why are you looking at me like that?"@@ Elliot asks, frown9ing. @@.player;"I'm not,"@@ you respond. @@.lily;"You are."@@ You rub at your eyes. @@.player;"You ever get the feeling that eveyrthing's a little off?"@@ @@.lily;"Yeah,"@@ he responds immediately. @@.lily;"Whenever I see the way you act, I wonder how my older sister can be that off."@@ @@.player;"No, like, seriously,"@@ you say. He gives you aw eird look as if you're crazy. @@.lily;"Just get ready before you start saying even weirder shit."@@ You grab your bag off the floor. For a few fuzzy seonds, it feels like something about himn is slightly wrong. Or maybe something about //you// is sligtly off. Or maybe both? Whatever. It's the first day of your senior year. You have to focus on that. You get ready and head out the door and into the first day of school, deciding that reality can be as weird as it wants. <<button "Elliot and Ellie?" "April Fools 2026 2">><</button>>

You step outside and Elliot has already fucked off toward middle school. Finally, inner peace. Your best friend, Lucy, is already waiting by the sidewalk. She brightens the second she sees you, brushing some ginger hair out of her face as she smiles. She falls into step beside you immediately. @@.luke;"Oh mY God,"@@ she says, @@.luke;"I have an important question, Ellie. If cows eat grass, and grass is, like, salad, does that mean beef patties are technically made out of salada? cos if so, i'm basically healthy."@@ You stare at her. Lucy beams. @@.luke;"Right?"@@ Your brain twitches again. You know Lucy, of course. Loud, happy, and dumb as a brick. But for one weird second, looking at her feels like looking at a word spelled wrong. It just itches at your brain. @@.luke;"ELLIE!"@@ You snap back to reality. @@.player;"Huh?"@@ @@.luke;"Why are you staring at my boobs?"@@ You refocus your eyes, realizing that your eyes were indeed on her admittedly... generouc shest for far too long. @@.player;"I wasn't."@@ @@.luke;"You super were."@@ @@.player;"I'm just tired."@@ @@.luke;"Mhm,"@@ Lucy says, not believing you in the slightest. @@.luke;"Anyway, I think I should be allowed to tell peple I'm on a sald diet. Isn't that cool?"@@ You rub your eyes again and keep walking, now a llittle more suspicious. <<button "Lucy big boob" "April Fools 2026 3">><</button>>

As you make your way to school, you eventually spot Samuel. he's waiting by the corner in a beanie. He looks up as you and Lucy get closer. @@.samantha;"Wow. You both look awful. It's nice to know summer changed nothing."@@ @@.luke;"Good morning to you too!"@@ Lucy says brightly. Samuel falls into step on your other side. @@.samantha;"I tried to have one but it's the first day of school. Well, it wasn't too bad until I saw you, though."@@ Lucy gasps. @@.luke;"That's sooo mean. Ellie, tell him I'm cute."@@ @@.player;"You're... uh... loud,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"It's sad to see nobody ever sides with me,"@@ Lucy says, looking really sad. You glance at Samuel. He's... normal. Totally normal. Beanie, dry voice, clothes from Threadz, and a sarcastic look. But if this really is normal, why is your brain doing that weird little hitch again. Samuel catches you looking. @@.samantha;"Why are you doing that?"@@ @@.player;"Doing what?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"That weird...s quinty thing,"@@ Samuel says, frowning. @@.samuel;"You look like you're trying to recognize me form a past life."@@ Lucy nods. @@.luke;"She did it to me too! I think Ellie's haunted."@@ @@.player;I'm not haunted,"@@ you argue. Samuel shrugs. @@.samuel;"Sure."@@ Lucy gasps, having just had a revelation. @@.luke;"Wait! Do you think if ghosts wore hats they could still go through walls? Or would that hat fall off."@@ @@.samantha;"These are the questions I have to listen to every day with this friend gorup,"@@ Samuel says flatly. <<button "Samuerl Beanie" "April Fools 2026 4">><</button>>

NBy lumnch, the day has been so busy you haven't been thinking about how weird it's been. You're sitting with Lucy and Samuel, trying to eat this disgusting barely-edible food, when Lucy makes this loud noise. @@.luke;"Oh my God, wait wait WAIT!"@@ she says, digging her phone out. @@.luke;"You guys have to see this."@@ She shoves the ascreen between you and Samuel. @@.luke;"Autumn festival is today. We should go. Just look at how cute it is! There's lights and food and little games and even a ferris wheel. This is basically destiny."@@ Samuel takes one look at the screen, then just snatches the phone right out of her hand. @@.luke;"Hey!"@@ Lucy shireks. @@.luke;"Give it BACK!"@@ Samuel's eyes narrow. @@.samantha;"Why do you have so many photos of the same guy?"@@ @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you murmur, already knowing what's up. Lucy lunges across the table. @@.luke;"That's youngjae and he's my ult bias."@@ @@.player;"It's that k-pop group she's obsessed with,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"Hmm, I guess he's not bad,"@@ Samantha says, showing you a picture of a hot asian guy. @@.luke;"Stop looking!"@@ Lucy begs, making a strnagled sound. Samuel holds it out of reach. @@.samuel;"You only found the autumn festival because there was an ad for it on the wiki for minho or beomgyu or toaster oven or whatever."@@ @@.luke;"He is CUTE,"@@ Lucy says, now fully red. @@.luke;"I can't help it. i want to go to a concert and scream and maybe pass out a little."@@ That gets a sigh out of you immediately. Lucy and her thing for East Asian guy. It's been a thing for a very long while. @@.samantha;"I thought it'd be something new today,"@@ Samuel says disappointedly, handing the phone back to Lucy. @@.samantha;"Alas, it's just more men."@@ @@.player;"Lucy will never change,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"You guys are so mean to me,"@@ Lucy says. @@.luke;"Anyway, festival?'@@ <<button "Festival" "April Fools 2026 5">><</button>>

Somehow, at the Autumn Festival, you end up standing in front of a fortune teller tent with Lucy and Samuel. The sign on it says ''MONSIEUR SERENO'' in curling gold letters. The curtain shifts and the guy inside leans forward just a bit. Your brain freezes. Because... Okay... The guy is ''hot''. He's a bit older, with silver hair and a sharp grin. His top is way too short, leaving his rock-hard abs out. He looks like a divorced vampire who takes good care of himself. @@.luke;"Oh my God,"@@ Lucy says, grabbing your arm hot. Samuel squints. @@.samantha;"That man looks... interesting."@@ Monsieur Sereno smiles from inside the booth, clearly having heard that. @@.serena;"Would one of you care to step inside?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you say instantly. @@.luke;"I think you should go,"@@ Lucy says. Samuel puts a hand on yoru back and starts steering you forward with calm efficiency. @@.samantha;"Go. It'll be funny."@@ @@.player;"Why me?"@@ you ask, feeling like the sacrifical lamb. Lucy gasps. @@.luke;"'Cause he looked at you all mysterious."@@ @@.player;"Isn't the whole point of a fortune teller to look at people mysteriously?"@@ you ask. Samuel pulls the curtain inside. @@.samantha;"Get in there, Ellie."@@ Before you can keep arguing, they shove you in. The curtainf alls shut behind you, leaving you in the dark tent. It smells strongly of incense and bad ideas. Monsieur Sereno is lounging across from you, seeming completely relaxed. You sit down slowly. @@.player;"H-Hey,"@@ you sputter out. @@.serena;"Well, you're a nervous one, aren't you?"@@ Sereno says smoothly. @@.player;"I'm not nervous,"@@ you say. He smiles, not believing you for a second. @@.serena;"Of course not."@@ His rings glint as he turns over a card between his fingers. @@.serena;"You've had an odd day, haven't you?"@@ You hesitate before answering. @@.player;"Kind of."@@ @@.serena;"You, Ellie, are particularly easy to read,"@@ he says. Have you ever even told him your name? Before you can answer, he reaches across the table and lightly tilts your chin up with his two fingers. @@.serena;"You've been pulled in the wrong direction. Let's fix that."@@ Your pulse jumps. @@.player;"Fix wha-"@@ His thumb brushes once against your jaw. The tent lurches, and then– <div class = "wavy-text"> <span style="--i:1;">E</span>\ <span style="--i:2;">v</span>\ <span style="--i:3;">e</span>\ <span style="--i:4;">r</span>\ <span style="--i:5;">y</span>\ <span style="--i:6;">t</span>\ <span style="--i:7;">h</span>\ <span style="--i:8;">i</span>\ <span style="--i:9;">n</span>\ <span style="--i:10;">g</span>\ <span style="--i:11;"> </span>\ <span style="--i:12;">f</span>\ <span style="--i:13;">a</span>\ <span style="--i:14;">d</span>\ <span style="--i:15;">e</span>\ <span style="--i:16;">s</span>\ <span style="--i:17;"> </span>\ <span style="--i:18;">t</span>\ <span style="--i:19;">o</span>\ <span style="--i:20;"> </span>\ <span style="--i:21;">b</span>\ <span style="--i:22;">l</span>\ <span style="--i:23;">a</span>\ <span style="--i:24;">c</span>\ <span style="--i:25;">k</span>\ <span style="--i:26;">.</span>\ </div> <<button "What" "April Fools 2026 6">><</button>>

When you open your eyes, you're no longer in the tent. You're in Aurora's treehouse. For a moment, you just lie there beneath a familiar blanket, staring up at the wooden ceiling while your thoughts settle. The air smells like cedar, old books, and incense. Lantern lights glows in the corners. The whole space is warm in the way that only Aurora's treehouse ever is. @@.aurora;"That didn't end up going how it should've, babe,"@@ Aurora says, laughing. @@.aurora;"Madame Serena ruined that little experiment, didn't she? Or Monsieur Sereno in that world."@@ You turn your head and see that Aurora is sitting next to you. She's close, with her hand on your shoulder. She looks very pleased with herself. @@.player;"What?"@@ you say, blinking in surprise. Her smile softens. @@.aurora;"C'mon, Ellie."@@ And just like that, it all comes rushing back. You had asked Aurora to show you what things might be like in an alternate reality. The two of you had been messing around with reality magic, pushing it a little farther than usual. She'd decided to show you a world where everyone was gender-swapped. @@.player;"Right, right,"@@ you say, sitting up. @@.player;"The alternate reality thing."@@ @@.aurora;"You remembered,"@@ Aurora says. @@.player;"Yeah, I got cursed by a hot fortune teller,"@@ you murmur. @@.aurora;"Poor baby,"@@ Aurora says, laughing. @@.aurora;"Traumatized by a handsome older man with abs."@@ @@.player;"Don't say it like that, 'rora!"@@ you say, putting your face into your hands. @@.aurora;"Like what, darling?"@@ she asks, acting all innocent. You look at her through your fingers. @@.player;"Like you're making fun of me."@@ @@.aurora;"Ellie, I //am// making fun of you."@@ She leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. @@.aurora;"Very lovingly."@@ You giggle. @@.player;"You're evil."@@ @@.aurora;"Well, you asked me to be your girlfriend, so really this is your fault,"@@ Aurora says. You turn toward her fully now, the last of the confusion melting away as you take her in properly. This is real. This is home. You're Ellie, and it's been months since you got cursed by Madame Serena. She's Aurora, the mysterious witch who has somehow become your girlfriend. And, of course, you've transitioned all the way. @@.aurora;"I was watching over you the whole time,"@@ Aurora reassures. @@.aurora;"Of course I'd make sure you were safe."@@ @@.player;"Let's stay here a little before you send me into another alternate reality, love,"@@ you say, needing some time to reset @@.aurora;"You say that as if you were planning to go anywhere,"@@ Aurora says. That gets a quiet laugh out of you. She //is// right, after all. So you stay there, curled together in a blanket, trading warmth and sleepy little smiles while the last remnants of that strange alternate world fade completely away. <<button "April Fools 2026" "April Fools 2026 Reflection">><</button>>

Okay, so, I'm writing this while I have a cold and am very tired. In case you didn't understand the last passage, this April Fools update takes place in the ''future''. It's past where the game currently is, and is with a post-transition Ethan. In this world, Ethan ended up getting together with Aurora. They decided to experiment with alternate universes, and that's how Ethan ended up in the gender-bent world. I wonder if people like Lucy more than Luke... Anyway happy April Fools!

<<widget "backpack">> <<script>> State.temporary.backpackNum = (State.metadata.get("backpackCount")??0)+1; <</script>> <div @id="'pixi-container-'+_backpackNum" class="pixi-container"></div> <<done>> <<script>> setup.initBackpackApp("pixi-container-"+State.temporary.backpackNum.toString()); State.metadata.set("backpackCount",State.temporary.backpackNum); <</script>> <</done>> <</widget>>

You go to mess with your backpack. <div class="backpack-container"><<backpack>></div> You Have a <<getBackpackPropertyName "backpack" $backpack.backpackType>> with a <<getBackpackPropertyName "keychain" $backpack.keychain>> attached to it's zipper. There are a number of places to put a pin: <<nobr>> <<set _pinSlots to 5>> <<set _pins to Object.keys(setup.backpackConstants.pins).filter(p=>$backpackInventory.pins.includes(p))>> <<for _i to 0; _i lt _pinSlots; _i++>> <<capture _i>> <br><select @name="'pin_'+_i" @id="'pinSelect_'+_i" class="macro-listbox"> <option value="none">No pin</option> <<for _val range _pins>> <option @value="_val"><<getBackpackPropertyName "pin" _val>></option> <</for>> </select> in pin slot <<print temporary().i+1>><br> <</capture>> <</for>> <<done>> <<script>> for (let j = 0; j < temporary().pinSlots; j++) { const selector = document.getElementById("pinSelect_"+j); if(!selector) continue; selector.value=variables().backpack.pins[j]??"none"; selector.addEventListener("change",(event)=>{ const selectedValue = event.target.value ==="none"? undefined:event.target.value; variables().backpack.pins[j]= selectedValue; const backpackUpdateEvent = new CustomEvent("backpackUpdate", { detail: { category: "pins", value: selectedValue, location:j}, }); window.dispatchEvent(backpackUpdateEvent); }) } <</script>> <</done>> <</nobr>> <span style="display: block; text-align: center;"><<return "Back">></span>

!Heading 1 !!Heading 2 !!!Heading 3 Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. //emphasised text//. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. ''strong text''. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. __underlined text__ Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. Normal text. ---- !!!Unordered List: * List item 1 * List item 2 !!!Links [[More Styles]] [[More Styles]] <<button "Button" "More Styles">><</button>>

<div class="main"> <nav> <<link "Load Game">><<run UI.saves();>><</link>> </nav> <div class="story-banner"> <div class="content">  <img src="img/logo.png" width="100%">  <h3 class="story-author">By <a href="#"></a>amaty</h3> </div> </div> <nav> <<link "New Game" "AMC">><</link>> <<link "Settings">><<run UI.settings();>><</link>> </nav> </div> <div class="credit">✦ Version 0.35 ✦</div>

!!! Checkbox: <<checkbox "$checkboxVar1" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 1 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar2" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 2 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar3" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 3 !!! Cycle: <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</cycle>> !!! Listbox: <<listbox "$listboxVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</listbox>> !!! Radiobutton: <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 1" autocheck>> Option 1 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 2" autocheck>> Option 2 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 3" autocheck>> Option 3 !!! Textarea: <<textarea "$textareaVar" "Type text here..">> !!! Textbox: <<textbox "$textboxVar" "Type answer here">>

// FOR SETTING STATS THAT NEED TO BE IN PLAY AT THE START OF THE STORY <<set $ver = 0.35>> <<set $name = "Ethan">> <<set $lastname = "Yoon">> <<set $money = 50>> <<set $selectedStats = {}>> <<if recall("statOverviewArr") == null>> <<run memorize("statOverviewArr", [])>> <</if>> <<set $nude to 0>>\ <<set $nudebutton to 0>>\ <<set $femininity = 0>> <<set $masculinity = 100>> <<set $maleattraction = 50>> <<set $femaleattraction = 50>> <<set $shy = 50>> <<set $confident = 50>> <<set $sarcastic = 50>> <<set $genuine = 50>> <<set $transgender = 0>> <<set $cisgender = 100>> <<set $acceptance = 0>> <<set $resistance = 100>> <<set $study = 75>> <<set $athleticism = 50>> <<set $social = 50>> <<set $popularity = 30>> <<set $magic = 0>> <<set $cheerleading = 0>> <<set $theater = 0>> <<set $art = 0>> <<set $lukeRelo = 75>> <<set $samanthaRelo = 75>> <<set $jessicaRelo = 20>> <<set $vincentRelo = 20>> <<set $auroraRelo = 20>> <<set $jordanRelo = 0>> <<set $serenaRelo = 0>> <<set $lilyRelo = 30>> <<set $momRelo = 80>> <<set $dadRelo = 20>> <<set $lukeRomance = 0>> <<set $samanthaRomance = 0>> <<set $jessicaRomance = 0>> <<set $vincentRomance = 0>> <<set $auroraRomance = 0>> <<set $jordanRomance = 0>> <<set $femineChanges = 0>> <<set $feminineLooks = 0>> <<set $eyesProg = 0>> <<set $noseProg = false>> <<set $lipsProg = 0>> <<set $foreheadProg = false>> <<set $jawlineProg = 0>> <<set $bodyhair to 2>> <<set $pubichair to true>> <<set $hairProg = 0>> <<set $hairColor to 0>> <<set $skinProg = 0>> <<set $heightProg = 0>> <<set $breastsProg = 0>> <<set $waistProg = 0>> <<set $handsProg = 0>> <<set $armsProg = 0>> <<set $genitalsProg = 0>> <<set $hipsProg = 0>> <<set $legsProg = 0>> <<set $buttProg = 0>> <<set $feetProg = 0>> <<set $thighsProg = 0>> <<set $voiceProg = 0>> <<set $hairaccessory = 0>> <<set $glasses = false>> <<set $top = 0>> <<set $pants = 0>> <<set $leggings = 0>> <<set $socks = 0>> <<set $shoes = 0>> <<set $hairStyle = 0>> <<set $hairtie = 0>> <<set $upperUndergarment to 69>> <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>> <<set $underwear to 0>> <<set $outfit to 69>> <<set $bind to false>> <<set $piercedears = false>> <<set $earrings = 0>> <<set $csquadbond to 0>>\ <<set $cpresence to 0>>\ <<set $cprecision to 0>>\ <<set $cstamina to 0>>\ <<set $alinework to 0>>\ <<set $ashading to 0>>\ <<set $acomposition to 0>>\ <<set $acolortheory to 0>>\ <<set $mmana to 0>>\ <<set $mspellcraft to 0>>\ <<set $mritual to 0>>\ <<set $mstamina to 0>>\ <<set $tpresence to 0>>\ <<set $tdelivery to 0>>\ <<set $tmovement to 0>>\ <<set $timmersion to 0>>\ <<set $toppreset1 to $top>>\ <<set $pantspreset1 to $pants>>\ <<set $outfitpreset1 to $outfit>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarmentpreset1 to $lowerUndergarment>>\ <<set $shoespreset1 to $shoes>>\ <<set $toppreset2 to $top>>\ <<set $pantspreset2 to $pants>>\ <<set $outfitpreset2 to $outfit>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarmentpreset2 to $lowerUndergarment>>\ <<set $shoespreset2 to $shoes>>\ <<set $toppreset3 to $top>>\ <<set $pantspreset3 to $pants>>\ <<set $outfitpreset3 to $outfit>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarmentpreset3 to $lowerUndergarment>>\ <<set $shoespreset3 to $shoes>> <<character "ethan" "img/aprilfools/ethan.png">> <<character "fethan" "img/aprilfools/fethan.png">> <<character "luke" "img/aprilfools/luke.png">> <<character "samantha" "img/aprilfools/samantha.png">> <<character "serena" "img/aprilfools/serena.png">> <<set $backpackUnlocked to false>>

<header> <div class="decoration-i">✦</div> <div class="decoration-ii">✦</div> <div class="decoration-iii">✦</div> <div class="decoration-v">✦</div> <div id="header-top">  <nav class="social-media" data-passage="social media"></nav> <div class="middle">  <div class="title" data-passage="story title"></div>  <span id="menu-toggle"> <i class="fas fa-chevron-down"></i> </span> </div>  <nav class="tools"> <span id="header-settings-button"><i class="fas fa-cog"></i></span> <span id="header-restart-button"><i class="fas fa-undo"></i></span> <span id="header-saves-button"><i class="fas fa-save"></i></span> <span id="header-fullscreen-button"><i class="fas fa-expand-arrows-alt"></i></span> <span id="header-paperdoll-button"><i class="fas fa-person-half-dress"></i></span> </nav> </div> <div id="header-body"> <div class="content">  <nav class="tools-mobile"> <span id="menu-settings-button"><i class="fas fa-cog"></i></span> <span id="menu-restart-button"><i class="fas fa-undo"></i></span> <span id="menu-saves-button"><i class="fas fa-save"></i></span> <span id="menu-fullscreen-button"><i class="fas fa-expand-arrows-alt"></i></span> </nav>  <div class="logo-image" data-passage="story logo"></div>  <ul id="story-menu" data-passage="story links"></ul>  <div class="middle"> <nav class="social-media-mobile" data-passage="social media"></nav> </div> </div> </div> </header> <div id="main">  <div id="stats-widget"> <div id = "stats-widget-text">Stats Overview</div> <ul id="stats-list"></ul> </div>  <button id="toggle-stats-widget">📊</button> <div id="story-container"> <div id="passages-container"> <div class="decoration-separator"> <span>✦</span> <span>✦</span> <span>✦</span> <span>✦</span> </div> <div id="passages"></div> <div class="decoration-separator"> <span>✦</span> <span>✦</span> <span>✦</span> <span>✦</span> </div> </div> <div id="paperdoll-sidebar" data-passage="Paperdoll Sidebar"></div> </div> </div>  <footer>  <span id="backwards-button"><i class="fas fa-chevron-left"></i></span> <span id="footer-diamond">✦</span> <span id="forwards-button"><i class="fas fa-chevron-right"></i></span> </footer>

<div id="achievements-menu"> <h1>Achievements</h1> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" @style="`width: ${setup.getPlayerAchievements().size/Object.keys(setup.achievements).length*100}%`"></div> </div> <p><<- setup.getPlayerAchievements().size>> out of <<- Object.keys(setup.achievements).length>> achievements unlocked. (<<- Math.floor(setup.getPlayerAchievements().size/Object.keys(setup.achievements).length*100)>>%)</p> <div id="achievements-list"> <<for _i to 0; _i lt Object.keys(setup.achievements).length; _i++>> <<set _achievementId to Object.keys(setup.achievements)[_i]>> <<set _achievement to setup.achievements[_achievementId]>> <<if setup.getPlayerAchievements().has(_achievementId)>> <div class="achievement"> <div class="achievement-number"><<- _achievement.number.toString().padStart(4,"0")>></div> <img @src="`img/achievements/${_achievement.image}`" @alt="`Achievement: ${_achievement.name}`"> <p><<- _achievement.name.toString()>></p> <p class="description"><<- _achievement.description>></p> </div> <<else>> <<locked _achievement.number>> <</if>> <</for>> </div> </div>  <span style="display: block; text-align: center;"><<back>></span>

Hello, Meerkat! This game collects anonymous data about the choices you make and your progress. As a solo dev, this kind of feedback is really useful in helping me understand the players further and what parts of the game people enjoy the most. For example, I can see what paths are popular, where players might get stuck, and places where I can improve. Sharing this data is completely optional! If you decline, nothing will be sent to me. If you do accept, you can always change your mind later in the settings menu. If you leave it on, though, you're directly supporting this game's development. Much love, amaty <<button "Accept Analytics" $aNextScene>><<run Setting.setValue("analytics-opt-in","Enabled")>><</button>> <<button "Decline Analytics" $aNextScene>><<run Setting.setValue("analytics-opt-in","Disabled")>><</button>>

<div class="credits-container"> <h1 class="credits-title">Game Credits</h1> \ <section class="credits-section">\ <h2>Writing</h2>\ <div class="credits-block">\ <h3>Main Writer</h3>\ <p><a href="https://www.patreon.com/amaty" target="_blank">@amaty</a></p>\ <p>All game writing, dialogue, and narrative design.</p>\ </div>\ <div class="credits-block">\ <h3>Proofreader / Playtester</h3>\ <p>@daphylt</p>\ <p>Proofreading, grammar fixes, and balance feedback.</p>\ </div>\ <div class="credits-block">\ <h3>Proofreader / Playtester</h3>\ <p>@floweringdahlias</p>\ <p>Proofreading, grammar fixes, and balance feedback.</p>\ </div>\ <div class="credits-block">\ <h3>Proofreader / Playtester</h3>\ <p>@zxv</p>\ <p>Proofreading, grammar fixes, and balance feedback.</p>\ </div>\ <div class="credits-block">\ <h3>Proofreader / Playtester</h3>\ <p>@taq</p>\ <p>Proofreading, grammar fixes, and balance feedback.</p>\ </div>\ </section>\ \ <section class="credits-section"> <h2>Programming</h2>\ <div class="credits-block">\ <h3>Main Developer</h3>\ <p><a href="https://www.patreon.com/amaty" target="_blank">@amaty</a></p>\ <p>Responsible for all game development and implementation.</p>\ </div>\ <div class="credits-block">\ <h3>Programmer</h3>\ <p>@-=Camille=-</p>\ <p>Contributed to UI and game mechanics development.</p>\ </div>\ <div class="credits-block">\ <h3>UI Template</h3>\ <p><a href="https://vahnya.itch.io/" target="_blank">@Vahnya</a></p>\ <p>Base UI template used as a starting framework.</p>\ </div>\ </section>\ \ <section class="credits-section"> <h2>Art</h2>\ <p>These artists contributed artwork that brought the game to life. All commissions were fully compensated for commercial use, with artists retaining portfolio rights.</p>\ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Ethan's Paperdoll</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://linktr.ee/MarkBanana26/" target="_blank">@MarkBanana26</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Designed the modular paperdoll system for Ethan, allowing for outfit and body customization.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Paperdoll Assets</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://kabirarrt.carrd.co/" target="_blank">@Kabirabira</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Created additional clothing and accessory assets for Ethan's paperdoll.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Paperdoll Assets</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://shiiyo.carrd.co/" target="_blank">@Shiiyo</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Created additional clothing and accessory assets for Ethan's paperdoll.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Paperdoll Assets</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://www.behance.net/rellianpagulong1" target="_blank">@Rellian</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Created additional clothing and accessory assets for Ethan's paperdoll.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Main SFW CG Artist</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://ikusabamukuro.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">@Cele</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Created the main story CGs, bringing key moments to life.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Secondary SFW CG Artist</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://x.com/rogishin" target="_blank">@Rogi Shin</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Assisted in illustrating additional story CGs.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Secondary SFW CG Artist</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://x.com/serelithmodeus/" target="_blank">@Serelithmodeus</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Assisted in illustrating additional story CGs.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Main NSFW CG Artist</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://x.com/Hyuji_0w0/" target="_blank">@Hyuji</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Illustrated NSFW CGs to enhance narrative depth..</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Forest Dream CG Artist</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://www.dextyart.com/" target="_blank">@DextyArt</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Contributed a special one-off CG.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Main Background Artist</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://lemmasoft.renai.us/forums/viewtopic.php?f=62&t=5674/" target="_blank">@TakenShin.art.</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Designed the primary backgrounds that enhance the game's world and storytelling.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Main Graphic Designer</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://vgen.co/Soutomiii" target="_blank">@Emikohana</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Designed many of the games graphic assets.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Secondary Graphic Designer</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://x.com/hanaemiko99/" target="_blank">@Emikohana</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Designed the game's logo and key graphics.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Banner #1 Artist</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://bsky.app/profile/rika-anillu.bsky.social/" target="_blank">@Rika Anillu</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Illustrated the official game banner that captures the spirit of //A Mirror's Curse//.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ \ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Banner #2 Artist</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://x.com/iblos1202/" target="_blank">@iblos1202</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Created the second official game banner.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Character Design</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://izumi-is-blah.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">@Izumi</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Did the character reference sheet for Amber.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ <div class="artist-block">\ <div class="artist-info">\ <div class="artist-name-box">Fanart and Memes</div>\ <p class="artist-handle"><a href="https://bsky.app/profile/lilyclovers.bsky.social" target="_blank">@lilyclovers</a></p>\ <p class="artist-description">Has made many pieces of fanart, including the one in the End of Content.</p>\ </div>\ </div>\ </section>\ \ <section class="credits-section">\ <h2>Patrons & Supporters</h2>\ <div class="credits-block">\ <h3>Donation for Hips</h3>\ <p>@Nightwhisper</p>\ </div>\ <div class="credits-block">\ <h3>Thread Creek Enthusiast</h3>\ <p>@BeKindReWind</p>\ </div>\ </section>\ </div> <span style="display: block; text-align: center;"><<back>></span>

<<set _CGs=[ "CG_LukeMeeting", "CG_SamanthaMeeting", "CG_SerenaMeeting", "CG_FamilyDinner", "CG_JessicaMeeting", "CG_VincentMeeting", "CG_AuroraMeeting", "CG_JordanMeeting", "CG_LilyHairtie", "CG_SerenaEvaluation", "CG_DreamMeeting", "CG_FirstMasturbation", "CG_Improv", "CG_JessicaDiner", "CG_GameDay1", "CG_Playground", "CG_AuroraForest", "CG_AmberMeeting", "CG_SecondMasturbation", "CG_PrincipalsOffice", "CG_AmberTalk", "CG_Shatterbox", "CG_OtherSide", "CG_LuminCircle", "CG_AuroraTreehouse", "CG_MagicHands", "CG_TheaterGang", "CG_ArtGang", "CG_MirrorMasturbation", "CG_JordanAudition", "CG_PostPracticeRest", "CG_MagicDildo" ]>> <<set _pageSize=8>> <<set _page=0>> <<do tag "gallery">> <div id="gallery"> <h1>Gallery</h1> <br> /* This is a collection of all the cutscene graphics in this game. */ <div id="image-gallery"> <<for _i,_CG range _CGs.slice(_page*_pageSize,(_page+1)*_pageSize)>> <div class="gallery-thumbnail"> <<include _CG>> </div> <</for>> </div> <div class="gallery-buttons"> <<script>> const min = 0; const max = Math.ceil(State.temporary.CGs.length/State.temporary.pageSize)-1; const currentPage = State.temporary.page; const pagesArray = [min,max]; for(let i = currentPage-2; i<=currentPage+2;i++){ if(i>=min && i<=max){ pagesArray.push(i); } } const set = Array.from(new Set(pagesArray.sort((a,b)=>a-b))); console.log(set); State.temporary.pageLinks = set; State.temporary.maxPage = max; <</script>> <<link '<span class="fas fa-chevron-left"></span>'>> <<set _page to Math.clamp(_page-1,0,_maxPage)>> <<redo gallery>> <</link>> <<for _i, _currPage range _pageLinks>> <<capture _currPage>> <<set _linkStyle=`<span ${_currPage==_page ?'class="activePage"' : ''}>${_currPage+1}</span>`>> <<link _linkStyle >> <<set _page to _currPage>> <<redo gallery>> <</link>> <<if _pageLinks[Math.clamp(_i+1,0,_maxPage)] - _currPage>1>> <div>...</div> <</if>> <</capture>> <</for>> <<link '<span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span>'>> <<set _page to Math.clamp(_page+1,0,_maxPage)>> <<redo gallery>> <</link>> </div>  <span style="display: block; text-align: center;"><<back>></span> </div> <</do>>

<<set _savedStats to recall("statOverviewArr")>>\ <<for _stat range _savedStats>>\ <<set $selectedStats[_stat] = true>>\ <</for>>\ \ <h1 class="settings-title">Customize Stats Widget</h1> <p>Select which stats to show in the sidebar:</p> \ <div class="stats-checkbox-container">\ <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.Femininity" false true autocheck>>Femininity</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.MAttraction" false true autocheck>>MAttraction</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.FAttraction" false true autocheck>>FAttraction</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.Transgender" false true autocheck>>Transgender</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.Acceptance" false true autocheck>>Acceptance</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.Studies" false true autocheck>>Studies</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.Athleticism" false true autocheck>>Athleticism</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.Social" false true autocheck>>Social</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.Popularity" false true autocheck>>Popularity</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.Magic" false true autocheck>>Magic</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.Cheerleading" false true autocheck>>Cheerleading</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.Flair" false true autocheck>>Flair</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.Art" false true autocheck>>Art</label><br> \ <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.LukeRelo" false true autocheck>>Luke Relo</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.SamanthaRelo" false true autocheck>>Samantha Relo</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.JessicaRelo" false true autocheck>>Jessica Relo</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.VincentRelo" false true autocheck>>Vincent Relo</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.AuroraRelo" false true autocheck>>Aurora Relo</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.JordanRelo" false true autocheck>>Jordan Relo</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.LukeRomance" false true autocheck>>Luke Romance</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.SamanthaRomance" false true autocheck>>Samantha Romance</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.JessicaRomance" false true autocheck>>Jessica Romance</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.VincentRomance" false true autocheck>>Vincent Romance</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.AuroraRomance" false true autocheck>>Aurora Romance</label><br> <label><<checkbox "$selectedStats.JordanRomance" false true autocheck>>Jordan Romance</label><br> </div>\ \ <<set _statsList to ["Femininity", "MAttraction", "FAttraction", "Transgender", "Acceptance", "Studies", "Athleticism", "Social", "Popularity", "Magic", "Cheerleading", "Flair", "Art", "LukeRelo", "SamanthaRelo", "JessicaRelo", "VincentRelo", "AuroraRelo", "JordanRelo", "LukeRomance", "SamanthaRomance", "JessicaRomance", "VincentRomance", "AuroraRomance", "JordanRomance"]>>\ \ <<button "Save">> <<set _tempStats to []>>\ <<for _key range _statsList>>\ <<if $selectedStats[_key]>>\ <<set _tempStats.push(_key)>>\ <</if>>\ <</for>>\ <<run memorize("statOverviewArr", _tempStats)>>\ <<run window.updateStatsWidget()>>\ <<notify>>Updated stats widget!<</notify>>\ <</button>> <span style="display: block; text-align: center;"><<back>></span>

<a href="https://discord.gg/amaty" target="_blank"><i class="fab fa-discord"></i></a> <a href="https://patreon.com/amaty" target="_blank"><i class="fab fa-patreon"></i></a> <a href="https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA" target="_blank"><i class="fa fa-external-link"></i></a> <a href="https://ko-fi.com/amaty" target="_blank"><i class="fas fa-hand-holding-heart"></i></a>

<<set $cheerleading to ($csquadbond + $cpresence + $cprecision + $cstamina)/4>> <<set $art to ($alinework + $ashading + $acomposition + $acolortheory)/4>> <<set $magic to ($mmana + $mspellcraft + $mritual + $mstamina)/4>> <<set $theater to ($tpresence + $tdelivery + $tmovement + $timmersion)/4>> <div class="box header"> <h1>$name $lastname</h1> <span class="star">✦</span> <ul class="facts"> <li>Male</li> <li>18</li> <li>Attracted to ♀</li> <li>$money USD</li> <li> <<if ($day % 7) is 0>> Sunday, <<elseif ($day % 7) is 6>> Saturday, <<elseif ($day % 7) is 5>> Friday, <<elseif ($day % 7) is 4>> Thursday, <<elseif ($day % 7) is 3>> Wednesday, <<elseif ($day % 7) is 2>> Tuesday, <<else>> Monday, <</if>> Day $day </li> </ul> </div> <div class="box"> <h3>Appearance</h3> <i> <<if $feminineLooks > 79>> You look like a feminine girl and <<elseif $feminineLooks > 59>> You look like a tomboyish girl and <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>> You look like an androgynous person and <<elseif $feminineLooks > 19>> You look like a feminine guy and <<else>> You look like a normal guy and <</if>> think of yourself as a guy. </i> </div>  <div class="box">  <h3>Personality</h3> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Femininity $femininity%</span> <span>✦</span> <span>Masculinity $masculinity%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "femvmasc-stat" style = "width: 100%"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Likes ♂ $maleattraction%</span> <span>✦</span> <span>Likes ♀ $femaleattraction%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "malevfemale-stat" style = "width: 100%"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Sarcastic $sarcastic%</span> <span>✦</span> <span>Genuine $genuine%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "sarcasticvgenuine-stat" style = "width: 100%"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Shy $shy%</span> <span>✦</span> <span>Confident $confident%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "shyvconfident-stat" style = "width: 100%"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Transgender $transgender%</span> <span>✦</span> <span>Cisgender $cisgender%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "transvcis-stat" style = "width: 100%"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Acceptance $acceptance%</span> <span>✦</span> <span>Resistance $resistance%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "acceptvsresist-stat" style = "width: 100%"></div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="box"> <h3>Skills</h3> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Studies</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$study%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "study-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Athleticism</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$athleticism%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "athleticism-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Social</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$social%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "social-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Popularity</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$popularity%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "popularity-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Magic</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$magic%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "magic-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Cheerleading</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$cheerleading%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "cheerleading-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Flair</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$theater%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "theater-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Art</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$art%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "art-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="wrap-collabsible"> <input id="collapsible" class="toggle" type="checkbox"> <label for="collapsible" class="lbl-toggle">Expand Magic</label> <div class="collapsible-content"> <div class="content-inner"> <div class="box"> <h3>Magic Route Stats</h3> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Mana Control</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$mmana%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "mmana-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Spellcraft</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$mspellcraft%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "mspellcraft-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Ritual Knowledge</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$mritual%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "mritual-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Mystical Stamina</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$mstamina%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "mstamina-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="wrap-collabsible"> <input id="collapsible1" class="toggle" type="checkbox"> <label for="collapsible1" class="lbl-toggle">Expand Cheerleading</label> <div class="collapsible-content"> <div class="content-inner"> <div class="box"> <h3>Cheerleading Route Stats</h3> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Squad Bond</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$csquadbond%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "csquadbond-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Presence</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$cpresence%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "cpresence-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Precision</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$cprecision%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "cprecision-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Stamina</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$cstamina%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "cstamina-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="wrap-collabsible"> <input id="collapsible2" class="toggle" type="checkbox"> <label for="collapsible2" class="lbl-toggle">Expand Theater</label> <div class="collapsible-content"> <div class="content-inner"> <div class="box"> <h3>Theater Route Stats</h3> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Stage Presence</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$tpresence%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "tpresence-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Line Delivery</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$tdelivery%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "tdelivery-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Movement</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$tmovement%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "tmovement-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Character</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$timmersion%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "timmersion-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="wrap-collabsible"> <input id="collapsible3" class="toggle" type="checkbox"> <label for="collapsible3" class="lbl-toggle">Expand Art</label> <div class="collapsible-content"> <div class="content-inner"> <div class="box"> <h3>Art Route Stats</h3> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Linework</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$alinework%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "alinework-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Shading</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$ashading%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "ashading-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Composition</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$acomposition%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "acomposition-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Color Theory</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$acolortheory%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "acolortheory-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div>  <span style="display: block; text-align: center;"><<back>></span>

<div class="box"> <h3>School Peers</h3> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Luke</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$lukeRelo%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "luke-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Samantha</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$samanthaRelo%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "samantha-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Jessica</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$jessicaRelo%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "jessica-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Vincent</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$vincentRelo%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "vincent-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Aurora</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$auroraRelo%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "aurora-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Jordan</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$jordanRelo%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "jordan-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="box"> <h3>Others</h3> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Madame Serena</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$serenaRelo%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "serena-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Lily</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$lilyRelo%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "lily-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Mom</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$momRelo%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "mom-stat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Dad</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$dadRelo%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "dad-stat"></div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="box"> <h3>Romantic Interest</h3> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Luke</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$lukeRomance%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "luke-rstat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Samantha</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$samanthaRomance%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "samantha-rstat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Jessica</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$jessicaRomance%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "jessica-rstat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Vincent</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$vincentRomance%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "vincent-rstat"></div> </div> </div> </div> <div class="stat-group"> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Aurora</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$auroraRomance%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "aurora-rstat"></div> </div> </div> <div class="stat"> <div class="stat-labels"> <span>Jordan</span> <span>✦</span> <span>$jordanRomance%</span> </div> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar" id = "jordan-rstat"></div> </div> </div> </div> </div>  <span style="display: block; text-align: center;"><<back>></span>

<h1>Appearance</h1> <<if $feminineLooks > 79>>\ Overall, you look like a feminine girl. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 59>>\ Overall, you look like a tomboyish girl. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>>\ Overall, you look androgynous. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 19>>\ Overall, you look like a feminine male. <<else>>\ Overall, you look like a normal male. <</if>>\ <<paperdoll>> <<if $nudebutton is 0>>\ <<button "Undergarments">> <<set $nude to 1>> <<set $nudebutton to 1>>\ <<run Engine.show()>> <</button>> <<elseif $nudebutton is 1>>\ <<button "Nude">> <<set $nude to 2>> <<set $nudebutton to 2>>\ <<run Engine.show()>> <</button>> <<elseif $nudebutton is 2>>\ <<button "Clothed">> <<set $nude to 0>> <<set $nudebutton to 0>>\ <<run Engine.show()>> <</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $devMode is true>>\ <<button "Small Hips">> <<set $hipsProg to 0>> <<run Engine.show()>> <</button>> <<button "Medium Hips">> <<set $hipsProg to 1>> <<run Engine.show()>> <</button>> <<button "Large Hips">> <<set $hipsProg to 2>> <<run Engine.show()>> <</button>> <<button "Very Large Hips">> <<set $hipsProg to 3>> <<run Engine.show()>> <</button>> <</if>>\ \ <h2>Face</h2> <<if $jawlineProg is 0>>\ Your face's shape is quite square, with a jawline that is defined and boxy. \ <<elseif $jawlineProg is 1>>\ Your face's shape is not masculine, but not feminine either. It's just a little square, lacking the contours and roundness of a female jawline. \ <<elseif $jawlineProg is 2>>\ Your face's shape is a little feminine, without any firmness that was once there. \ <<elseif $jawlineProg is 3>>\ Your face's shape is feminine, your jaw making a gentle v-line. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $eyesProg is 0>>\ You have small brown eyes that are pretty sharp. \ <<elseif $eyesProg is 1>>\ You have medium-sized brown eyes that are a little rounded. \ <<elseif $eyesProg is 2>>\ You have quite large brown eyes that are very round. \ <<elseif $eyesProg is 3>>\ You have very large brown eyes with double eyelids. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $noseProg is false>>\ Your nose is broad with a defined bridge, a masculine nose. \ <<else>>\ Your nose is sharp with a soft bridge, the perfect image of femininity. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $lipsProg is 0>>\ Your lips are quite thin and chapped. \ <<elseif $lipsProg is 1>>\ Your lips are a little plump and soft. \ <<elseif $lipsProg is 2>>\ Your lips are very plump and soft. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $foreheadProg is false>>\ Your forehead is flat, with a defined brow that is very noticeable. \ <<else>>\ Your forehead is smooth and round, with no protruding brow. \ <</if>>\ <<if $hairProg is 0>>\ Your hair is medium length for a guy. You don't take the best care of it, so it's a little rough and coarse. \ <<elseif $hairProg is 1>>\ Your hair is medium length for a guy. It's silky smooth and well taken care of. \ <<elseif $hairProg is 2>>\ Your hair is quite long for a guy, but would be considered medium-length for a girl. Each individual strand is as smooth as threads of satin. \ <<elseif $hairProg is 3>>\ Your hair is very long for a guy, and would be considered long for a girl as well. Each individual strand is as smooth as threads of satin, and they reach down your back. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $piercedears is true>>\ Your ears are pierced. <<else>>\ Your ears aren't pierced. <</if>>\ <h2>Upper Body</h2> <<if $armsProg is 0>>\ Your arms are broad and well-defined, each sculpted muscle reflecting a rugged, masculine strength. \ <<else>>\ Your arms are slender and elegantly tapered, each subtle curve reflecting a gentle, feminine grace. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $handsProg is 0>>\ Your hands are large and calloused, with thick fingers and rough edges. \ <<else>>\ Your hands are slim and elegantly contoured. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $breastsProg is 0>>\ Your chest is as flat as an ironing board, a smooth plane unbroken by any swell. \ <<elseif $breastsProg is 1>>\ You chest is mostly flat, with the slight swell of breast buds and puffy nipples. \ <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ Your small breasts gently curve outward, offering a soft hint of feminine contour. \ <<elseif $breastsProg is 3>>\ You have medium-sized breasts that offer a softly rounded shape, creating a feminine silhouette. \ <<elseif $breastsProg is 4>>\ You have large breasts that are soft and warm to the touch. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $waistProg is 0>>\ Your waist is straight and sturdy, reflecting a solid, masculine frame. <<elseif $waistProg is 1>>\ Your contoured waist is neither angular nor curvaceous. <<else>>\ Your gentle inward curve makes your waist look undeniably feminine. <</if>>\ <h2>Lower Body</h2> <<if $hipsProg is 0>>\ Straight and sturdy, your hips form an unwavering line that underscores their rugged, masculine shape. \ <<elseif $hipsProg is 1>>\ With subtle curves and moderate width, your hips rest comfortably between masculine solidity and feminine softness. \ <<elseif $hipsProg is 2>>\ Soft and curvaceous, your hips arch outward in a graceful line that accentuates their distinctly feminine shape. \ <<else>>\ Soft and voluptuously wide, your super feminine hips create a pronounced shape. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $thighsProg is 0 or $thighsProg is undefined>>\ Your thighs are thick and masculine, exuding a solid strength. \ <<elseif $thighsProg is 1>>\ Your thighs are slightly toned yet gently contoured, offering a balanced appearance. \ <<elseif $thighsProg is 2>>\ Your thighs are soft and shapely, flowing in smooth curves that accentuate their gentle, feminine form. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $legsProg is 0>>\ Your legs are sturdy, exhibiting a straightforward strength. \ <<elseif $legsProg is 1>>\ Your legs are slightly toned and gently contoured. \ <<else>>\ Your legs are softly rounded and gracefully curved. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $buttProg is 0>>\ Your butt is firm and slightly broad, lending your rear a straightforward shape. \ <<elseif $buttProg is 1>>\ Neither too flat nor overtly rounded, your butt maintains a moderate shape. \ <<elseif $buttProg is 2>>\ Smooth and gently rounded, your butt is feminine and creates an alluring silhouette. \ <<else>>\ Your butt is plump and generously curved, your super feminine butt forming a full, heart-shaped silhouette. \ <</if>>\ \ <<if $feetProg is 0>>\ Your sturdy masculine feet feature a robust shape that conveys strength and stable support. <<else>>\ Slender, softly arched, and gracefully proportioned, your feminine feet carry a delicate elegance in every gentle step. <</if>>\ <h2>Genitals</h2> <<if $genitalsProg is 0>>\ Your penis is of an average size, being of moderate length and girth. It's about six inches long. <<elseif $genitalsProg is 1>>\ Your penis is slim and modest in both length and girth. It's about four inches long. <<elseif $genitalsProg is 2>>\ Your penis is extremely petite in length and girth. It's only two inches long. <<else>>\ Your vagina has softly parted folds and a discreet opening. <</if>>\ <h2>Outfit</h2> <<if $hairaccessory is 0>>\ You don't have any accessories on your hair. \ <<elseif $hairaccessory is 1 or $hairaccessory is 2 or $hairaccessory is 3>>\ You have a hairpin holding back your bangs. \ <</if>>\ <<if $hairtie is 1>>\ Your black hair is tied back with a simple elastic band. \ <<elseif $hairtie is 2>>\ Your black hair is tied back with a cute and simple ribbon that adds a touch of adorableness. \ <<elseif $hairtie is 3>>\ Your black hair is tied back with a ribbon that resembles a bunny's adorable ears. \ <<elseif $hairtie is 4>>\ Your black hair is tied back with a lavender scrunchie. \ <</if>>\ <<if $glasses is false>>\ You don't have glasses on. \ <</if>>\ <<if $outfit is 69 or $outfit is undefined>>\ <<if $top is 0>>\ You are wearing a basic white T-shirt \ <<elseif $top is 1>>\ You are wearing a basic T-shirt with a flannel jacket \ <<elseif $top is 2>>\ You are wearing a white tank top \ <<elseif $top is 3>>\ You are wearing a black hoodie \ <<elseif $top is 4>>\ You are wearing a cropped white tank top \ <<elseif $top is 5>>\ You are wearing a cozy autumn sweater \ <<elseif $top is 6>>\ You are wearing a shirt with some cute cats on it \ <<elseif $top is 7>>\ You are wearing a knitted sweater \ <<elseif $top is 8>>\ You are wearing the Pacific Crest cheerleading top \ <<elseif $top is 9>>\ You are wearing a white tank top and pink sweater \ <<elseif $top is 10>>\ You are wearing the Pacific Crest gym shirt \ <<elseif $top is 11>>\ You are wearing a comfy pajama top \ <<elseif $top is 12>>\ You are wearing a comfy cream cardigan \ <<elseif $top is 13>>\ You are wearing a pink graphic tee \ <<elseif $top is 14>>\ You are wearing a white shirt with "symmetry" written on it \ <<elseif $top is 15>>\ You are wearing a cream sweater \ <<elseif $top is 16>>\ You are wearing a black and white checkered top \ <<elseif $top is 17>>\ You are wearing a hoodie with a butterfly on it \ <<elseif $top is 18 or $top is 20>>\ You are wearing a cream top \ <<elseif $top is 19>>\ You are wearing a white top with blue hearts on it \ <<elseif $top is 21>>\ You are wearing a jersey you picked up a few years ago \ <<elseif $top is 22>>\ You are wearing your school hoodie \ <<elseif $top is 23>>\ You are wearing a graphic tee with guinea pigs on it \ <<elseif $top is 24>>\ You are wearing a pink top with black stripes \ <<elseif $top is 25>>\ You are wearing a white turtleneck \ <<elseif $top is 26>>\ You are wearing a leather jacket \ <</if>>\ \ and \ \ <<if $pants is 0>>\ some shorts. \ <<elseif $pants is 1>>\ skinny jeans. \ <<elseif $pants is 2>>\ athletic shorts. \ <<elseif $pants is 3>> autumn pants. <<elseif $pants is 4>>\ cheerleading shorts. \ <<elseif $pants is 5>>\ a cute pleated cheerleading skirt. \ <<elseif $pants is 6 or $pants is 14>>\ a cute denim skirt. \ <<elseif $pants is 7>>\ your trusty gym shorts. \ <<elseif $pants is 8>>\ comfy pajama pants. \ <<elseif $pants is 9>>\ a pair of cream trousers. \ <<elseif $pants is 10>>\ some nice black leggings. \ <<elseif $pants is 11>>\ a cute black pleated skirt. \ <<elseif $pants is 12>>\ a cute brown pleated skirt. \ <<elseif $pants is 13>>\ a black skirt with a slit. \ <<elseif $pants is 15>>\ some baggy jeans. \ <<elseif $pants is 16>>\ a pair of pink shorts. \ <<elseif $pants is 17>>\ a skirt with a heart chain on it. \ <<elseif $pants is 18>>\ a plaid purple skirt. \ <<elseif $pants is 19>>\ a plain skirt. \ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $outfit is 0>>\ You are wearing a cute white floral dress with an array of pink flowers. \ <<elseif $outfit is 1>>\ You are wearing a cosplay of the popular character Ganyu. \ <<elseif $outfit is 2>>\ You are wearing a cream apron dress. \ <<elseif $outfit is 3>>\ You are wearing a fancy blue dress. \ <<elseif $outfit is 4>>\ You are wearing a fancy black dress. \ <<elseif $outfit is 5>>\ You are wearing a black goth dress. \ <<elseif $outfit is 6>>\ You are wearing a maid dress. \ <<elseif $outfit is 7>>\ You are wearing a fancy white dress. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $lowerUndergarment is 69>>\ You are not wearing any leggings at the moment, leaving your legs bare. \ <<elseif $lowerUndergarment is 1>>\ You are wearing a pair of black pantyhose. \ <<elseif $lowerUndergarment is 1>>\ You are wearing a pair of sheer, transparent pantyhose. \ <<elseif $lowerUndergarment is 2>>\ You are wearing a pair of black thigh-highs. \ <<elseif $lowerUndergarment is 3>>\ You are wearing a pair of sheer, transparent thigh-highs. \ <<elseif $lowerUndergarment is 4>>\ You are wearing a pair of black knee-highs. \ <<elseif $lowerUndergarment is 5>>\ You are wearing a pair of sheer, transparent knee-highs. \ <<elseif $lowerUndergarment is 6>>\ You are wearing a pair of black fishnets. \ <<elseif $lowerUndergarment is 7>>\ You are wearing an emo thigh band. <</if>>\ \ <<if $shoes isnot 69>>\ <<if $socks is 0>>\ You have a normal white pair of socks and \ <</if>>\ <<if $shoes is 0>>\ your trusty Converses on. <<elseif $shoes is 1>>\ a pair of cheerleading shoes on. <<elseif $shoes is 2>>\ a pair of SeraForm Streetlace Lights on. <<elseif $shoes is 3>>\ a pair of black SomaSoft flats on. <<elseif $shoes is 4>>\ a pair of white SomaSoft flats on. <<elseif $shoes is 5>>\ a pair of brown SomaSoft flats on. <<elseif $shoes is 6>>\ heels from the popular character Ganyu in HonShin Impact on. <<eiseif $shoes is 7>>\ a pair of Vektix BreezeAir Lows on. <<elseif $shoes is 8>>\ a pair of Vektix SwiftCharge Trainers on. <<elseif $shoes is 9>>\ a pair of black goth boots on. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You are barefoot. <</if>>\ \ <span style="display: block; text-align: center;"><<back>></span>

<li> <<link "stats" "stat page 1">><</link>> </li> <li> <<link "relationships" "stat page 2">><</link>> </li> <li> <<link "appearance" "stat page 3">><</link>> </li> <<if $backpackUnlocked>><li> <<link "backpack" "backpackMenu">><</link>> </li><</if>> <li> <<link "gallery" "gallery">><</link>> </li> <li> <<link "credits" "credit">><</link>> </li> <li> <<link "achievements" "achievements">><</link>> </li> <li> <<link "widgets" "widgets">><</link>> </li>

<div class="story-banner"> <div class="content">  <h1 class="story-title">A Mirror's Curse</h1>  <h2 class="story-subtitle">A Transgender Transformation Story</h2> <span>✦</span>  <h3 class="story-author">By <a href="#"></a>amaty</h3> </div> </div>

<h1>A Mirror's Curse</h1>  <i class="fab fa-pagelines"></i>  <h2>A Transgender Transformation Story</h2>

<<set _cgAmberMeetingMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-amber-meeting"], ["title", "Amber Meeting"], ["unlockCondition", $amberMeetingCG], ])>> <<set _cgAmberMeetingSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberMeeting/amberMeeting.png" }, ]>> <<image _cgAmberMeetingMap _cgAmberMeetingSources>>

<<set _cgAmberTalkMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-amber-talk"], ["unlockCondition", $ambertalkCG], ["title", "Amber Talk"] ])>> <<set _ponyTails=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanPonytailM.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanPonytailL.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]>> <<set _normalHair=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanHairS.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanHairS.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanHairM.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanHairL.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]>> <<set _Hairties=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanHairtie1.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhairtie, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanHairtie2.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhairtie, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanHairtie3.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhairtie, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanHairtie4.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhairtie, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanHairS.png" }, ]>> <<set _amberTalkSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkBackground.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkAmber.png" }, ...($ambertalkCGhairStyle!=0?_ponyTails:[]), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanBase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanBaseS.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanBaseM.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanEyeM.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanEyeL.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanEyeL.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, ...($ambertalkCGhairStyle==0?_normalHair:[]), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanHairFront.png" }, ...($ambertalkCGhairStyle!=0?[{ "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethansidelock.png" }]:[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanSidelock.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkFethanSidelock.png", "condition": $ambertalkCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]), ...($ambertalkCGhairStyle!=0?_Hairties:[]), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/amberTalk/amberTalkEffects.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>> <<image _cgAmberTalkMap _amberTalkSources>>

<<set _cgArtGangMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-art-gang"], ["unlockCondition", $artgangCG], ["title", "Art Gang"] ])>> <<if $artgangCGhair is 0 or $artgangCGhair is 1>> <<set _cgArtGangSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/jasper.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/macylegs.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/vincent.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/fethanbase.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/boobs.png", "condition": $artgangCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/boobm.png", "condition": $artgangCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/boobl.png", "condition": $artgangCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/sidehairshort.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/fethanhead.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/shorthair.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/table.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/macy.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/items.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/filter.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png"} ]>> <<elseif $artgangCGhairStyle is 0>> <<set _cgArtGangSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/jasper.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/macylegs.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/vincent.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/fethanbase.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/boobs.png", "condition": $artgangCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/boobm.png", "condition": $artgangCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/boobl.png", "condition": $artgangCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/sidehairregular.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/behindhair.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/fethanhead.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/sidehairright.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/basehair.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/loosem.png", "condition": $artgangCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/loosel.png", "condition": $artgangCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/table.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/macy.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/items.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/filter.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png"} ]>> <<else>> <<set _cgArtGangSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/jasper.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/macylegs.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/vincent.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/fethanbase.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/boobs.png", "condition": $artgangCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/boobm.png", "condition": $artgangCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/boobl.png", "condition": $artgangCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/sidehairregular.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/fethanhead.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/sidehairright.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/basehair.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/ponytailm.png", "condition": $artgangCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/ponytaill.png", "condition": $artgangCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/table.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/macy.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/items.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/artGang/filter.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png"} ]>> <</if>> <<image _cgArtGangMap _cgArtGangSources>>

<<set _cgAuroraForestMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-aurora-forest"], ["title", "Aurora Forest"], ["unlockCondition", $auroraForestCG], ])>> <<set _cgAuroraForestSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraForest/auroraForestbase.png" }, ]>> <<image _cgAuroraForestMap _cgAuroraForestSources>>

<<set _cgAuroraMeetingMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-aurora-meeting"], ["unlockCondition", $auroraMeetingCG], ["title", "Aurora Meeting"] ])>> <<set _cgAuroraMeetingSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraMeeting/auroraMeetingbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraMeeting/auroraMeetingmhair.png", "condition": $auroraCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraMeeting/auroraMeetinglhair.png", "condition": $auroraCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraMeeting/auroraMeetingmeyes.png", "condition": $auroraCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraMeeting/auroraMeetingleyes.png", "condition": $auroraCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraMeeting/auroraMeetingleyes.png", "condition": $auroraCGeyes, "requirement": 3 } ]>> <<image _cgAuroraMeetingMap _cgAuroraMeetingSources>>

<<set _cgAuroraTreehouseMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-aurora-treehouse"], ["unlockCondition", $treehouseCG], ["title", "Aurora Treehouse"] ])>> <<if $treehouseCGhair is 0 or $treehouseCGhair is 1>> <<set _cgAuroraTreehouseSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/auroratreehousebase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/fethanbase.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/shorthair.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/flatchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/flatchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/smallchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/mediumchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/largechest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/meyes.png", "condition": $treehouseCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/leyes.png", "condition": $treehouseCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/leyes.png", "condition": $treehouseCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/auroratreehousefilter.png"} ]>> <<elseif $treehouseCGhairStyle is 0>> <<set _cgAuroraTreehouseSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/auroratreehousebase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/mediumloose.png", "condition": $treehouseCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/lloose.png", "condition": $treehouseCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/fethanbase.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/flatchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/flatchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/smallchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/mediumchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/largechest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/meyes.png", "condition": $treehouseCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/leyes.png", "condition": $treehouseCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/leyes.png", "condition": $treehouseCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/hairbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/auroratreehousefilter.png"} ]>> <<else>> <<set _cgAuroraTreehouseSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/auroratreehousebase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/mponytail.png", "condition": $treehouseCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/lponytail.png", "condition": $treehouseCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/hairtie.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/fethanbase.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/flatchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/flatchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/smallchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/mediumchest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/largechest.png", "condition": $treehouseCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/meyes.png", "condition": $treehouseCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/leyes.png", "condition": $treehouseCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/leyes.png", "condition": $treehouseCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/ponytailbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/auroraTreehouse/auroratreehousefilter.png"} ]>> <</if>> <<image _cgAuroraTreehouseMap _cgAuroraTreehouseSources>>

<<set _cgDreamMeetingMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-dream-meeting"], ["unlockCondition", $dreamMeetingCG], ["title", "Dream Meeting"] ])>> <<set _cgDreamMeetingSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/forestDream/forestDream.png" }, ]>> <<image _cgDreamMeetingMap _cgDreamMeetingSources>>

<<set _cgFamilyDinnerMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-family-dinner"], ["title", "Family Dinner"], ["unlockCondition", $familydinnerCG], ])>> <<set _cgFamilyDinnerSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/familydinner/base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/familydinner/shair.png", "condition": $familydinnerCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/familydinner/shair.png", "condition": $familydinnerCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/familydinner/mhair.png", "condition": $familydinnerCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/familydinner/meyes.png", "condition": $familydinnerCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/familydinner/leyes.png", "condition": $familydinnerCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/familydinner/leyes.png", "condition": $familydinnerCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, ]>> <<image _cgFamilyDinnerMap _cgFamilyDinnerSources>>

<<set _cgFirstMMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-first-masturbation"], ["unlockCondition", $firstMasturbationCG], ["title", "First Masturbation"] ])>> <<set _cgFirstMSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg0.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs0.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/pubic.png", "condition": $d7shave, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis0.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm0.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $d8eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $d8eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $d8eyesProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $d8hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $d8hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $d8hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $d8hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow0.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/sweat.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/cum1.png" }, ]>> <<image _cgFirstMMap _cgFirstMSources>>

<<set _cggameday1Map = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-gameday1"], ["unlockCondition", $gameday1CG], ["title", "Game Day 1 - Victory"] ])>> <<set _cggameday1Sources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1bgcharacters.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1jessica.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1ethan.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1schest.png", "condition": $gameday1CGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1mchest.png", "condition": $gameday1CGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1skirt.png", "condition": $d11skirt, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1shorts.png", "condition": $d11skirt, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1expression.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1meyes.png", "condition": $gameday1CGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1leyes.png", "condition": $gameday1CGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1leyes.png", "condition": $gameday1CGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1shair.png", "condition": $gameday1CGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1shair.png", "condition": $gameday1CGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1mhair.png", "condition": $gameday1CGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1lhair.png", "condition": $gameday1CGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1hairtie1.png", "condition": $gameday1CGhairtie, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1hairtie2.png", "condition": $gameday1CGhairtie, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1hairtie3.png", "condition": $gameday1CGhairtie, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1hairtie4.png", "condition": $gameday1CGhairtie, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1jessicahand.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1extras.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/gameday1/gameday1confetti.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>> <<image _cggameday1Map _cggameday1Sources>>

<<set _cgImprovMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-improv"], ["unlockCondition", $improvCG], ["title", "First Improvisation"] ])>> <<set _ponyTailLayer=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvmponytail.png", "condition": $improvCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvlponytail.png", "condition": $improvCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvhairtie1.png", "condition": $improvCGhairtie, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvhairtie2.png", "condition": $improvCGhairtie, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvhairtie3.png", "condition": $improvCGhairtie, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvhairtie4.png", "condition": $improvCGhairtie, "requirement": 4 }, ]>> <<set _normalHairLayer=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvshair.png", "condition": $improvCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvshair.png", "condition": $improvCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvmhair.png", "condition": $improvCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvlhair.png", "condition": $improvCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]>> <<set _cgImprovSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvjordan.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvethan.png" }, ...($improvCGhairStyle!=0?_ponyTailLayer:[]), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvsbreasts.png", "condition": $improvCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvmbreasts.png", "condition": $improvCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, ...($improvCGhairStyle==0?_normalHairLayer:[]), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvbangs.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvmeyes.png", "condition": $improvCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvleyes.png", "condition": $improvCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvleyes.png", "condition": $improvCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, ...($improvCGhairStyle!=0?[{ "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvsidelock.png" }]:[]), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/improv/improvfilter.png" }, ]>> <<image _cgImprovMap _cgImprovSources>>

<<set _cgJessicaDinerMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-jessica-diner"], ["unlockCondition", $jessicaDinerCG], ["title", "Jessica Diner"] ])>> <<set _cgJessicaDinerSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jessicaDiner/jessicaDiner.png" }, ]>> <<image _cgJessicaDinerMap _cgJessicaDinerSources>>

<<set _cgJessicaMeetingMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-jessica-meeting"], ["title", "Jessica Meeting"], ["unlockCondition", $jessicaMeetingCG], ])>> <<set _cgJessicaMeetingSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jessicaMeeting/jessicaMeetingbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jessicaMeeting/jessicaMeetingmhair.png", "condition": $jessicaCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jessicaMeeting/jessicaMeetinglhair.png", "condition": $jessicaCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jessicaMeeting/jessicaMeetingmeyes.png", "condition": $jessicaCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jessicaMeeting/jessicaMeetingleyes.png", "condition": $jessicaCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jessicaMeeting/jessicaMeetingleyes.png", "condition": $jessicaCGeyes, "requirement": 3 } ]>> <<image _cgJessicaMeetingMap _cgJessicaMeetingSources>>

<<set _cgjordanAuditionMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-jordan-audition"], ["unlockCondition", $jordanAuditionCG], ["title", "Jordan Audition"] ])>> <<if $jordanAuditionCGhair < 2>> <<set _jordanAuditionSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/jordan.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/backshort.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/fethanbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/flat.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/flat.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/small.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/medium.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/large.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/earjorhand.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/earjorhand.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/sideshort.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/arms.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/otherside.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/baseshort.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/filter.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>> <<elseif $jordanAuditionCGhairStyle is 0>> <<set _jordanAuditionSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/jordan.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/backloose.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/fethanbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/flat.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/flat.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/small.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/medium.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/large.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/earjorhand.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/earjorhand.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/sideloose.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/arms.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/otherside.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/baserest.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/filter.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>> <<elseif $jordanAuditionCGhairStyle is 1>> <<set _jordanAuditionSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/jordan.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/backponytail.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/fethanbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/flat.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/flat.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/small.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/medium.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/large.png", "condition": $jordanAuditionCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/earjorhand.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/earjorhand.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/sideshort.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/arms.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/otherside.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/baserest.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanAudition/filter.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>> <</if>> <<image _cgjordanAuditionMap _jordanAuditionSources>>

<<set _cgJordanMeetingMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-jordan-meeting"], ["unlockCondition", $jordanMeetingCG], ["title", "Jordan Meeting"] ])>> <<set _cgJordanMeetingSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanMeeting/jordanMeetingbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanMeeting/jordanMeetingmhair.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanMeeting/jordanMeetinglhair.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanMeeting/jordanMeetingmeyes.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanMeeting/jordanMeetingleyes.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jordanMeeting/jordanMeetingleyes.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 3 }, ]>> <<image _cgJordanMeetingMap _cgJordanMeetingSources>>

<<set _cgLilyHairtieMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-lily-hairtie"], ["unlockCondition", $lilyhairtieCG], ["title", "Lily Hairtie"] ])>> <<set _cgLilyHairtieSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/lilyHairtie/lilyHairtiebase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/lilyHairtie/lilyHairtiemhair.png", "condition": $lilyCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/lilyHairtie/lilyHairtielhair.png", "condition": $lilyCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/lilyHairtie/lilyHairtiemeyes.png", "condition": $lilyCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/lilyHairtie/lilyHairtieleyes.png", "condition": $lilyCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/lilyHairtie/lilyHairtieleyes.png", "condition": $lilyCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/lilyHairtie/lilyHairtiefilter0.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/lilyHairtie/lilyHairtiefilter1.png" } ]>> <<image _cgLilyHairtieMap _cgLilyHairtieSources>>

<<set _cgLukeMeetingMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-luke-meeting"], ["title", "Luke Meeting"], ["unlockCondition", $lukeMeetingCG], ])>> <<set _cgLukeMeetingSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/lukeMeeting/lukeMeetingbase.png" }, ]>> <<image _cgLukeMeetingMap _cgLukeMeetingSources>>

<<set _cglumincircleMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-lumin-circle"], ["unlockCondition", $lumincircleCG], ["title", "Lumin Circle"] ])>> <<set _normalHairs=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/short.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/short.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/loosem.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/loosel.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]>> <<set _normalHairsSnake=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/short.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/short.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/loosemsnake.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/looselsnake.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]>> <<set _ponytails=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/ponytailm.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/ponytaill.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/hairtie.png" }, ]>> <<set _ponytailsSnake=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/ponytailmsnake.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/ponytaillsnake.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/hairtie.png" }, ]>> <<set _cgluminCircleSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/arma.png", "condition": $familiar, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/armb.png", "condition": $familiar, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/arma.png", "condition": $familiar, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/fethan.png" }, ...($lumincircleCGhairStyle==0?$familiar==1? _normalHairsSnake:_normalHairs:$familiar==1?_ponytailsSnake: _ponytails), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/boobs.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/boobs.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/boobm.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/boobm.png", "condition": $lumincircleCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/eyes.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/restchars.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/sable.png", "condition": $familiar, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/seraphine.png", "condition": $familiar, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/luminCircle/solana.png", "condition": $familiar, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>> <<image _cglumincircleMap _cgluminCircleSources>>

<<set _cgMagicDildo = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-magic_dildo"], ["unlockCondition", $magicdildoCG], ["title", "Magic Dildo"] ])>> <<set _MagicDildoSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/bodyorgasm.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestflat.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestflat.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestsmall.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestmedium.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestlarge.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2short.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2short.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2loose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2loose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/strands.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/strands.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/head.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/faceorgasm.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side1.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side1.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppcumaverage.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppcumsmall.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppcumtiny.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/prostate.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>> <<image _cgMagicDildo _MagicDildoSources>>

<<set _cgMagicHandsMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-magic-hands"], ["unlockCondition", $magichandsCG], ["title", "Magic Hands"] ])>> <<set _MagicHandsSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/butthand2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairmed.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairlong.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basebody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sweat.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandf.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandf.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhands.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/meyes3.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes3.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes3.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppavehand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppsmallhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/pptinyhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/cum.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/breath.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/filter.png" } ]>> <<image _cgMagicHandsMap _MagicHandsSources>>

<<set _cgMirrorMasturbationMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-mirror-masturbation"], ["unlockCondition", $mirrormasturbationCG], ["title", "Mirror Masturbation"] ])>> <<set _cgMirrorMasturbationSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirror1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2backshorthair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2backshorthair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2backmediumhair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2backmediumhair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2sweat.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2chestflat.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2chestflat.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2chestsmall.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2chestmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2chestlarge.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2avgpp.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2smallpp.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2tinypp.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2face.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2sidehair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2sidehair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2eyes.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2fronthairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2fronthairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2fronthairmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2fronthairmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2orgasmfx.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2hairs.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2hairs.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2hairm.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2hairl.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2orgasmfx.png" } ]>> <<image _cgMirrorMasturbationMap _cgMirrorMasturbationSources>>

<<set _cgOtherSideMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-other-side"], ["unlockCondition", $otherSideCG], ["title", "Other Side"] ])>> <<set _cgOtherSideSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/otherSidebase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/eyesm.png", "condition": $otherSideCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/eyesm.png", "condition": $otherSideCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/eyesl.png", "condition": $otherSideCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, ...($otherSideCGhairStyle==0?[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/loosehairs.png", "condition": $otherSideCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/loosehairs.png", "condition": $otherSideCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/loosehairm.png", "condition": $otherSideCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/loosehairl.png", "condition": $otherSideCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]:[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/ponytailm.png", "condition": $otherSideCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/ponytaill.png", "condition": $otherSideCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/chest1.png", "condition": $otherSideCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/otherSide/chest2.png", "condition": $otherSideCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 } ]>> <<image _cgOtherSideMap _cgOtherSideSources>>

<<set _cgplaygroundMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-playground"], ["unlockCondition", $playgroundCG], ["title", "Nostalgic Playground"] ])>> <<if $playgroundCGhairStyle is 0>> <<set _cgplaygroundSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgrounddome.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundethan.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundschest.png", "condition": $playgroundCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundmchest.png", "condition": $playgroundCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundmeyes.png", "condition": $playgroundCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundleyes.png", "condition": $playgroundCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundleyes.png", "condition": $playgroundCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundshair.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundshair.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundmhairloose.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundlhairloose.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundhairtie1.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhairtie, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundhairtie2.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhairtie, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundhairtie3.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhairtie, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundhairtie4.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhairtie, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundmponytail.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundlponytail.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundluke.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundsamantha.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgrounddomeoverlay.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundmemories.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundforeground.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundleaves.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundfilter1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundfilter2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundfilter3.png" } ]>> <<else>> <<set _cgplaygroundSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgrounddome.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundethan.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundschest.png", "condition": $playgroundCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundmchest.png", "condition": $playgroundCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundmeyes.png", "condition": $playgroundCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundleyes.png", "condition": $playgroundCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundleyes.png", "condition": $playgroundCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundlhairtied.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundlhairtied.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundhairtie1.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhairtie, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundhairtie2.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhairtie, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundhairtie3.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhairtie, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundhairtie4.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhairtie, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundmponytail.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundlponytail.png", "condition": $playgroundCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundluke.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundsamantha.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgrounddomeoverlay.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundmemories.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundforeground.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundleaves.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundfilter1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundfilter2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/playground/playgroundfilter3.png" } ]>> <</if>> <<image _cgplaygroundMap _cgplaygroundSources>>

<<set _cgPostPracticeRestMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-post-practice-rest"], ["unlockCondition", $postpracticerestCG], ["title", "Post Practice Rest"] ])>> <<set _PostPracticeRestSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/cheerleaders.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/ethanbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/chestsmall.png", "condition": $postpracticerestCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/chestmedium.png", "condition": $postpracticerestCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/chestlarge.png", "condition": $postpracticerestCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/hairshort.png", "condition": $postpracticerestCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/hairshort.png", "condition": $postpracticerestCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/hairmedium.png", "condition": $postpracticerestCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/hairlong.png", "condition": $postpracticerestCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/jessica.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/postpracticerest/filter.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>> <<image _cgPostPracticeRestMap _PostPracticeRestSources>>

<<set _cgPrincipalOfficeMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-principal-office"], ["unlockCondition", $principalsOfficeCG], ["title", "Principal Office"] ])>> <<set _PrincipalOfficeSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/zhang.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/ethanbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/boobs.png", "condition": $principalsOfficeCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/boobm.png", "condition": $principalsOfficeCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/meyes.png", "condition": $principalsOfficeCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/leyes.png", "condition": $principalsOfficeCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/leyes.png", "condition": $principalsOfficeCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/hairs.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/ponytailm.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/ponytaill.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/ponytaill.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/hairtie.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/principalsOffice/filter.png" } ]>> <<image _cgPrincipalOfficeMap _PrincipalOfficeSources>>

<<set _cgSamanthaMeetingMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-samantha-meeting"], ["title", "Samantha Meeting"], ["unlockCondition", $samanthaMeetingCG], ])>> <<set _cgSamanthaMeetingSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/samanthaMeeting/samanthaMeetingbase.png" }, ]>> <<image _cgSamanthaMeetingMap _cgSamanthaMeetingSources>>

<<set _cgSecondMMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-second-masturbation"], ["unlockCondition", $secondMasturbationCG], ["title", "Second Masturbation"] ])>> <<set _cgSecondMSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/bg/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/additional/eyebrow.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/larm/larm1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/chest/chest0.png", "condition": $d13chest, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d13chest, "requirement": 3 }, ]>> <<image _cgSecondMMap _cgSecondMSources>>

<<set _cgSerenaEvaluationMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-serena-evaluation"], ["unlockCondition", $serenaEvaluationCG], ["title", "Serena Evaluation"] ])>> <<set _ponytailLayer=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationmponyttail.png", "condition": $serenaCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationlponyttail.png", "condition": $serenaCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationhairtie1.png", "condition": $serenaCGhairtie, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationhairtie2.png", "condition": $serenaCGhairtie, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationhairtie3.png", "condition": $serenaCGhairtie, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationhairtie4.png", "condition": $serenaCGhairtie, "requirement": 4 }, ]>> <<set _normalHairs=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationshair.png", "condition": $serenaCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationshair.png", "condition": $serenaCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationmhair.png", "condition": $serenaCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationlhair.png", "condition": $serenaCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]>> <<set _cgSerenaEvaluationSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationmadameserena.png" }, ...($serenaCGhairStyle!=0?_ponytailLayer:[]), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationethan.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationsbreasts.png", "condition": $serenaCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationmbreasts.png", "condition": $serenaCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, ...($serenaCGhairStyle==0?_normalHairs:[]), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationmeyes.png", "condition": $serenaCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationleyes.png", "condition": $serenaCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationleyes.png", "condition": $serenaCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, ...($serenaCGhairStyle!=0?[{ "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationsidelock.png" }]:[]), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaEvaluation/serenaEvaluationfilter.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>> <<image _cgSerenaEvaluationMap _cgSerenaEvaluationSources>>

<<set _cgSerenaMeetingMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-serena-meeting"], ["title", "Serena Meeting"], ["unlockCondition", $serenaMeetingCG], ])>> <<set _cgSerenaMeetingSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/serenaMeeting/serenaMeeting.png" }, ]>> <<image _cgSerenaMeetingMap _cgSerenaMeetingSources>>

<<set _cgShatterBoxMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-shatterbox"], ["unlockCondition", $shatterboxCG], ["title", "ShatterBox"] ])>> <<set _reflectionNormalHairs=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionhairs.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionhairs.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionhairm.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionhairl.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]>> <<set _reflectionPonytails=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionponytailm.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionponytaill.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionhairtie1.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhairtie, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionhairtie2.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhairtie, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionhairtie3.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhairtie, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionhairtie4.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhairtie, "requirement": 4 }, ]>> <<set _normalHairs=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxhairs.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxhairs.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxhairm.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxhairl.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]>> <<set _ponytails=[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxponytailm.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxponytaill.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxhairtie1.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhairtie, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxhairtie2.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhairtie, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxhairtie3.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhairtie, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxhairtie4.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhairtie, "requirement": 4 }, ]>> <<set _cgShatterBoxSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxbase.png" }, ...($shatterboxCGhairStyle==0?_reflectionNormalHairs:_reflectionPonytails), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionfethan.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionfethan.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionfethanbreastss.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionfethanbreastsm.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectioneyesm.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectioneyesl.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectioneyesl.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, ...($shatterboxCGhairStyle==0?[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionsidelock.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionsidelock.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ]:[ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionsidelock.png" }, ]), { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectionhairfront.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxreflectioneffect.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxfethan.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxsidelocks.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxsidelocks.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxsidelockl.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/shatterbox/shatterboxsidelockl.png", "condition": $shatterboxCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, ...($shatterboxCGhairStyle==0?_normalHairs:_ponytails), { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>> <<image _cgShatterBoxMap _cgShatterBoxSources>>

<<set _cgTheaterGangMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-theater-gang"], ["unlockCondition", $theatergangcg], ["title", "Theater Gang"] ])>> <<if $theatergangcghair is 0 or $theatergangcghair is 1>> <<set _TheaterGangSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/jordannoelle.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/shortside.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/fethan.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/baseshort.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/boobs.png", "condition": $theatergangcgbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/boobm.png", "condition": $theatergangcgbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/boobl.png", "condition": $theatergangcgbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/meyes.png", "condition": $theatergangcgeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/leyes.png", "condition": $theatergangcgeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/leyes.png", "condition": $theatergangcgeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/arm.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/prop.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/filter.png"}, ]>> <<elseif $theatergangcghairStyle is 0>> <<set _TheaterGangSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/jordannoelle.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/looseside.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/fethan.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/sidehair.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/basem.png", "condition": $theatergangcghair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/basel.png", "condition": $theatergangcghair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/boobs.png", "condition": $theatergangcgbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/boobm.png", "condition": $theatergangcgbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/boobl.png", "condition": $theatergangcgbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/meyes.png", "condition": $theatergangcgeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/leyes.png", "condition": $theatergangcgeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/leyes.png", "condition": $theatergangcgeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/arm.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/prop.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/filter.png"}, ]>> <<else>> <<set _TheaterGangSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/jordannoelle.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/looseside.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/ponytail.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/fethan.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/sidehair.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/basepony.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/boobs.png", "condition": $theatergangcgbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/boobm.png", "condition": $theatergangcgbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/boobl.png", "condition": $theatergangcgbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/meyes.png", "condition": $theatergangcgeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/leyes.png", "condition": $theatergangcgeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/leyes.png", "condition": $theatergangcgeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/arm.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/prop.png"}, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/theaterGang/filter.png"}, ]>> <</if>> <<image _cgTheaterGangMap _TheaterGangSources>>

<<set _cgVincentMeetingMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-gallery-vincent-meeting"], ["unlockCondition", $vincentMeetingCG], ["title", "Vincent Meeting"] ])>> <<set _cgVincentMeetingSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/vincentMeeting/vincentMeetingbase.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/vincentMeeting/vincentMeetingmhair.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/vincentMeeting/vincentMeetinglhair.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/vincentMeeting/vincentMeetingmeyes.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/vincentMeeting/vincentMeetingleyes.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/vincentMeeting/vincentMeetingleyes.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 3 } ]>> <<image _cgVincentMeetingMap _cgVincentMeetingSources>>

<<if $nude is undefined>> <<set $nude to false>> <</if>> <<paperdoll>> <<if $closetp0 is false>>\ You wonder if you should wear a top and bottoms or an outfit. <<button "Top and bottoms">>\<<set $closetp0 to true>>\<<set $closetoutfit to false>>\<<if $outfit isnot 69>>\<<set $outfit to 69>><<set $top to 0>>\<<set $pants to 0>>\<</if>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<if $outfitUnlock isnot undefined>>\ <<button "Outfit">>\<<set $closetp0 to true>>\<<set $closetoutfit to true>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<elseif $closetp1 is false and $closetoutfit is false>>\ You decide on a top that fits you. <<button "White T-shirt">>\<<set $top to 0>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Red Flannel">>\<<set $top to 1>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<if $day is "idkwhenfornowlol">>\ <<button "White Tank Top">>\<<set $top to 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Black Hoodie">>\<<set $top to 3>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<if $day is "idkwhenfornowlol">>\ <<button "Cropped Tank Top">>\<<set $top to 4>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Autumn Sweater">>\<<set $top to 5>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Cat Shirt">>\<<set $top to 6>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Knitted Sweater">>\<<set $top to 7>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Cream Cardigan">>\<<set $top to 12>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<if $topUnlock isnot undefined>>\ <<if $topUnlock[9] is true>>\ <<button "Tank Top + Pink Sweater">>\<<set $top to 9>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[13] is true>>\ <<button "Pink Graphic Tee">>\<<set $top to 13>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[14] is true>>\ <<button "Symmetry Shirt">>\<<set $top to 14>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[15] is true>>\ <<button "Cream Sweater">>\<<set $top to 15>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[16] is true>>\ <<button "Black and White Checkered Top">>\<<set $top to 16>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[17] is true>>\ <<button "Butterfly Hoodie">>\<<set $top to 17>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[18] is true>>\ <<button "Cream Top">>\<<set $top to 18>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[19] is true>>\ <<button "White Heart Top">>\<<set $top to 19>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[20] is true>>\ <<button "Cream Top 2">>\<<set $top to 20>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[23] is true>>\ <<button "Guinea Pig Shirt">>\<<set $top to 23>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $day > 22>>\ <<button "Nerdy Striped Shirt">>\<<set $top to 28>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $day > 23>>\ <<button "Artsy Top">>\<<set $top to 29>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $day > 24>>\ <<button "Leather Jacket">>\<<set $top to 32>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Confirm and move on">>\<<set $closetp1 to true>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<elseif $closetp1 is false and $closetoutfit is true>>\ <<if $outfitUnlock[2] is true>>\ <<button "Cream Apron Dress">>\<<set $outfit to 2>>\<<set $top to 69>>\<<set $pants to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $outfitUnlock[4] is true>>\ <<button "Fancy Black Dress">>\<<set $outfit to 4>>\<<set $top to 69>>\<<set $pants to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $outfitUnlock[5] is true>>\ <<button "Black Goth Dress">>\<<set $outfit to 5>>\<<set $top to 69>>\<<set $pants to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Confirm and move on">>\<<set $closetp1 to true>>\<<set $closetp2 to true>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<elseif $closetp2 is false>>\ You decide on something that will cover your lower body. <<button "Cargo Shorts">>\<<set $pants to 0>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<if $skinnyjeans is true>>\ <<button "Skinny Jeans">>\<<set $pants to 1>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Athletic Shorts">>\<<set $pants to 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<if $top is 5>>\ <<button "Autumn Pants">>\<<set $pants to 3>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Cream Trousers">>\<<set $pants to 9>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<if $pantsUnlock isnot undefined>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[6] is true>>\ <<button "Denim Skirt">>\<<set $pants to 6>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[11] is true>>\ <<button "Black Pleated Skirt">>\<<set $pants to 11>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[12] is true>>\ <<button "Brown Pleated Skirt">>\<<set $pants to 12>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[13] is true>>\ <<button "Black Slit Skirt">>\<<set $pants to 13>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[14] is true>>\ <<button "Denim Skirt 2">>\<<set $pants to 14>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[15] is true>>\ <<button "Baggy Jeans">>\<<set $pants to 15>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[16] is true>>\ <<button "Pink Shorts">>\<<set $pants to 16>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $day > 22>>\ <<button "Nerdy Slacks">>\<<set $pants to 21>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $day > 23>>\ <<button "Black Denim Pants">>\<<set $pants to 22>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $day > 24>>\ <<button "Black Jeans">>\<<set $pants to 24>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Confirm and move on">>\<<set $closetp2 to true>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<elseif $closetp3 is false>>\ You decide on something that will cover your feet. <<button "Converses">>\<<set $shoes to 0>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<if $shoeUnlock isnot undefined>>\ <<if $shoeUnlock[2] is true>>\ <<button "White Sneakers">>\<<set $shoes to 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $shoeUnlock[3] is true>>\ <<button "Black Flats">>\<<set $shoes to 3>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "White Flats">>\<<set $shoes to 4>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Brown Flats">>\<<set $shoes to 5>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $shoeUnlock[7] is true>>\ <<button "Butterfly Sneakers">>\<<set $shoes to 7>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $shoeUnlock[8] is true>>\ <<button "Orange Sneakers">>\<<set $shoes to 8>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $outfitUnlock[5] is true>>\ <<button "Black Goth Boots">>\<<set $shoes to 9>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $shoes isnot 69>>\ <<button "Confirm and move on">>\<<set $closetp3 to true>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<elseif $closetp4 is false>>\ You decide on everything else. <h2>Hair</h2>\ <<if $d7hairsister isnot undefined and $hairProg > 1>>\ <<button "Keep your hair in a ponytail">>\<<set $hairStyle to 1>>\<<set $hairtie to $currenthairtie>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Keep your hair loose">>\<<set $hairStyle to 0>>\<<set $hairtie to 0>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<if $hairtieUnlock isnot undefined>>\ <<if $hairStyle is 1>>\ <h2>Hair Ties</h2>\ <<if $hairtieUnlock[1] is true>>\ <<button "Simple Elastic Band">>\<<set $hairtie to 1>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $hairtieUnlock[2] is true>>\ <<button "Simple Ribbon">>\<<set $hairtie to 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $hairtieUnlock[3] is true>>\ <<button "Bunny Ears Ribbon">>\<<set $hairtie to 3>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $hairtieUnlock[4] is true>>\ <<button "Scrunchie">>\<<set $hairtie to 4>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <h2>Hair Accessories</h2>\ <<if $hairacessoriesUnlock[0] is true>>\ <<button "Lavender Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 1>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $hairacessoriesUnlock[1] is true>>\ <<button "White Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $hairacessoriesUnlock[2] is true>>\ <<button "Red Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 3>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Remove Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <h2>Tights</h2>\ <<if $outfitUnlock[5] is true>>\ <<button "Black Fishnets">>\<<set $lowerUndergarment to 6>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Bare Legs">>\<<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Confirm and move on">>\<<set $closetp4 to true>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<elseif $closetp5 is false>>\ Are you happy with your outfit? <<button "Yes" $afterCloset>>\<<set $closetp5 to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Set as Outfit Preset #1">>\<<notify>>Set Outfit Preset #1!<</notify>>\<<set $toppreset1 to $top>>\<<set $pantspreset1 to $pants>>\<<set $outfitpreset1 to $outfit>>\<<set $lowerUndergarmentpreset1 to $lowerUndergarment>>\<<set $shoespreset1 to $shoes>>\<</button>> <<button "Set as Outfit Preset #2">>\<<notify>>Set Outfit Preset #2!<</notify>>\<<set $toppreset2 to $top>>\<<set $pantspreset2 to $pants>>\<<set $outfitpreset2 to $outfit>>\<<set $lowerUndergarmentpreset2 to $lowerUndergarment>>\<<set $shoespreset2 to $shoes>>\<</button>> <<button "Set as Outfit Preset #3">>\<<notify>>Set Outfit Preset #3!<</notify>>\<<set $toppreset3 to $top>>\<<set $pantspreset3 to $pants>>\<<set $outfitpreset3 to $outfit>>\<<set $lowerUndergarmentpreset3 to $lowerUndergarment>>\<<set $shoespreset3 to $shoes>>\<</button>> <<button "Restart">>\<<set $closetoutfit to false>><<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>>\<<set $outfit to 69>><<set $top to 0>>\<<set $pants to 0>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

This is a sad ending—not because something tragic happens, but because //nothing// happens. There's no magic, no transformation, no wild adventure. $name simply... exists. And that's the tragedy of it. I could write more about how this ending reflects missed opportunities and how struggle and change are essential to growth. But I don't think you all want to hear me ramble today. Click the button below to get back onto the main path! <<button "Continue playing" "Intro 6">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "BadEnding1">>\ You had the choice. The chance to go with them, to experience something new, to be part of a memory that might have shaped your life in ways you couldn't yet understand. But in the end, you said no. @@.player;"I don't really feel like going, now that I think about it."@@ @@.samantha;"Come on, $name, it'll be fun!"@@ Samantha had groaned, exasperated. @@.samantha;"It's literally the first day of school. What else are you gonna do, sit in your room all night?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, man, it's tradition!"@@ Luke had added, ever the optimist. @@.luke;"Gotta start the year off right."@@ But you had just shrugged. @@.player;"You guys go ahead. I'll just chill at home."@@ And that was that. Samantha had rolled her eyes, calling you 'boring as hell' before she and Luke left without you. They were still joking when they walked away, still caught up in the excitement, their voices fading into the distance as you turned back toward home. The festival carried on without you. The evening passed in the most unremarkable way possible. You scrolled through your phone, bouncing between apps without really looking at anything. Watched some videos you didn't care about. Played a game, but quit halfway through. Around nine, you thought about texting Luke and Samantha to see how things were going, but you stopped yourself. ''If they were having fun, would they even answer?'' You turned off your phone and went to bed early, feeling strangely restless. And that was that. School moved forward like it always did. Luke and Samantha talked about the Autumn Festival for a few days—the games, the rides, the food. They laughed about how Samantha had beaten Luke at pumpkin bowling and how weird the fortune teller had been. @@.luke;"You should've been there, $name,"@@ Luke had said, nudging you. @@.luke;"That seer was kinda creepy, but it would've been funny to see her read your future."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, she probably would've told you some cryptic bullshit and you'd be paranoid for a week,"@@ Samantha had added with a smirk. You had just shrugged. @@.player;"Maybe next time."@@ But there wasn't a next time. The festival became another thing in the past, forgotten as the school year pressed on. Homework piled up. College applications loomed. You hung out with Luke and Samantha less often, though at first, you barely noticed. They still invited you to things sometimes—group hangouts, movie nights—but you said no more often than not. Maybe you were tired. Maybe you didn't feel like going out. Maybe some part of you assumed they'd always be around, so missing one or two nights didn't really matter. But slowly, the invitations stopped. Graduation came and went. You and Luke and Samantha promised to stay in touch. @@.luke;"Dude, we'll always be friends,"@@ Luke had said, slinging an arm around your shoulder at the graduation party. @@.luke;"No matter what."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ Samantha had agreed, raising her cup. @@.samantha;"We'll make time, obviously."@@ At first, you did. There were messages, group calls, even the occasional visit when you were all home for the holidays. But things got busier. People got caught up in their own lives. The messages became fewer, the calls shorter. One day, you opened your phone and saw that the last text in the group chat was from months ago. You started typing a message, but after staring at the screen for a few seconds, you deleted it and put your phone down. You told yourself you'd reach out later. But you didn't. And then, there were the people you never met. There was a day, sometime during senior year, when Jessica had stopped in front of your desk, her arms crossed, an unreadable look in her blue eyes. @@.jessica;"$name,"@@ she had said, tilting her head slightly. @@.jessica;"Why do you always look so... unbothered? Like nothing ever touches you?"@@ You had no idea what she meant, and you never got the chance to find out. Because instead of answering, instead of asking why she cared, you just shrugged and said something dismissive. She never spoke to you again. Years later, you saw her name pop up in articles, in magazine covers. She made it, just like everyone expected. But you weren't part of her story. You could have been. In the library one afternoon, you caught Vincent struggling to reach a book on the top shelf. He had stretched onto the tips of his toes, his fingers barely brushing the spine before the book slipped out of reach and thudded to the ground. You had the chance to help. To say anything. But you didn't. You had picked up the book, handed it to him with a nod, and walked away without another word. Maybe, in another life, you had sat across from him at the library table, listening to him ramble about his favorite novels. Maybe, in another life, you had noticed how his face lit up when he talked about things he loved, how his voice softened when he got lost in thought. But you never got to know him. And he never got to know you. You passed Aurora in the hallway once, near the end of the year. She had looked right at you, her gaze sharp and knowing, like she saw something no one else did. @@.aurora;"You should have gone,"@@ she had murmured under her breath as you walked past. You had no idea what she meant. But sometimes, on sleepless nights, the words haunted you. There was always a distance between you and Jordan. He was the type of guy everyone knew but no one really got close to. But there was a moment—one fleeting, insignificant moment—where you could have changed that. It was after gym class. He had sat beside you on the bench, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. @@.jordan;"You ever feel like... I dunno. Like you're doing everything right, but it still doesn't feel like enough?"@@ It had been an opening. A rare, unguarded moment. But you had shrugged, said something vague, and left. And that was the last real conversation you ever had. Life moved on. You had a job. An apartment. A routine. Wake up. Work. Go home. Eat dinner. Sleep. Repeat. It wasn't bad, exactly. Just... ''empty''. Somewhere along the way, you stopped expecting anything else. You went through the motions, years passing by in quiet succession. You made some friends at work, but it was different—nothing like the friendship you had in high school, nothing like the bond you'd had with Luke and Samantha. Once in a while, you'd come across an old picture of the three of you, buried somewhere in your phone. Maybe from sophomore year, maybe from middle school, maybe from a random day you'd already half-forgotten. And sometimes, late at night when you couldn't sleep, you'd check social media and see a post from Luke or Samantha. They were still close. Still going on trips, still making stupid inside jokes in their captions that you didn't understand anymore. You'd hover over the like button, or maybe even think about leaving a comment. But you never did. What would you even say? Would they even care? You told yourself it was fine. That this was life. People drift apart. Not everyone keeps their high school friends forever. But sometimes, in those rare, quiet moments of introspection, you felt it—a weight in your chest, something small but persistent, whispering that maybe things weren't supposed to turn out this way. Maybe you had made the wrong choice that night. Maybe everything would have been different. Maybe //you// would have been different. But you would never know. Because you never went to the Autumn Festival. And that was that. <<button "Bad Ending #1 — A Life Unchanged" "Bad Ending 1 Commentary">><</button>>

Bad Ending #2 — The Girl in the Mirror occurs when you haven't transformed and become feminine enough by Day 16 and have a high trans stat. This ending is personal. Not just to $name, not just to me, but to so many of us who've ever stood in front of a mirror and wondered what would happen if you never said yes. If you kept holding onto the version of yourself that everyone else expects, never reaching for the one you //know// is waiting underneath. In this path, $name never truly lets the curse in—not because he doesn't feel it, but because he feels it too much. He pushes it down and avoids anything that might trigger change. He convinces himself that this is strength and that staying the same is surviving. But surviving isn't living. The version of $name we see here isn't monstrous or cruel or broken. He's not lonely like in Bad Ending #1 — A Life Unchanged. He's just stuck. And maybe that hurts more. So many trans women know this version of the story too well. The almost. The lost years. The ache that never really goes away. I wrote this ending not to say this is what happens if you don't transition. I don't want to strike fear into your heart or pressure you into doing something you don't want to do. Not every path is the same. But I //did// want to show how deep the pain can go when you spend your entire life telling yourself no. The thing many of you are afraid of isn't being someone else. It's being yourself. This ending is for those who stayed still. For the ones who missed their moment or think they did. And in the small chance that you see yourself in this? Please know that your story doesn't have to end here. It's ''never'' too late to reach for her. I promise you she's still here and she's still waiting.

<<grantAchievement "BadEnding2">>\ That night, you stare at your reflection longer than usual. The bathroom light flickers once, casting a brief shimmer across the mirror. You don't move. Just stand there, toothbrush in hand, watching the way your face doesn't change. Your jaw still looks sharp. Your shoulders still broad. Your eyes are tired. You lean closer and turn your face one way, then the other. You try to see what Aurora saw when she looked at you. But you don't see anything. Just you. Still you. Same voice. Same name. Same excuses. You brush your teeth. Wash your face. Go through the routine like it's armor. You pretend that if you do it well enough, the rest of the day won't catch up to you. Then you turn off the light. Your reflection fades into the dark. You lie in the bed that night, staring up at the ceiling. You tell yourself none of this matters and that you'll keep going. Whatever this feeling is, you'll move forward. And you do. Just... not toward anything. The days pass. They blur, really. Homecoming ends. The decorations come down. Spirit fades from the halls like smoke. The world settles back into its usual rhythm. But you? You double down. You start waking up earlier because it takes time now to make sure nothing you do, nothing you wear, nothing you //are// gives the curse even a whisper of a reason to change you. You avoid soft clothes. No more oversized sweaters, no more fleece-lined jackets. You stop using the nice-smelling body wash in the shower and switch back to the old, harsh one your dad uses. You flatten your tone when you speak. You square your shoulders when you walk. You rehearse your laugh so it sounds lower. You stop brushing your hair the way you like, just running your hands through it roughly. You don't let any part of you get mistaken for delicate. You even avoid smiling, because you hate how your face looks when you do. Because every time you let your guard down, every time you even //lean// toward something soft, the curse pushes. Something changes. Subtle, but permanent. Your reflection shifts in ways you don't have words for. You hate it. Because it feels right, and that's unbearable. It doesn't feel like you're becoming someone else, it feels like remembering. You're caught in a quiet kind of limbo—frozen between who you've been and who you can't let yourself become. Every day feels like a balancing act. You keep your nails short, not because it matters, but because letting them grow would feel like giving something up. You flinch when people compliment your skin. They say it looks smooth, or soft, or different lately. They say it to be kind, but it cuts deeper than they could ever know. Because if they see something changing, then it's real. Then you're //losing//. You don't look in mirrors anymore unless you have to. Just enough to make sure you haven't slipped too far, haven't crossed some invisible line. Still the same jaw. Still broad in the shoulders. Still passable. Still a man. You say it like a prayer in your head. Still a man. Still a man. Still a man. But the longer you say it, the more it sounds like a lie. Like something you're clinging to because it's all you've ever known. And the worst part is—you can feel her. The girl. Not a hallucination or a stranger in your body. No, she's always been there. You catch her in fleeting moments you wish you could forget. When your laugh is too high and real. When your eyes go soft at something beautiful. When you move your hands in a delicate way. She's in your voice when you forget to keep it low. She's in your thoughts when you imagine being seen and not tolerated. She's the part of you that aches at the end of every day. And still, you deny her. You silence her. Because you're terrified she might be right. You tell yourself that letting her in would mean losing ''everything''. Your name, your body, your safety, your place in the world. You tell yourself that transforming, that giving into the curse, would be surrender. But deep down, you know that it would've been the bravest thing you ever did. You tell yourself that holding the line—gritting your teeth and staying the same—is strength. That it's what men do. What //you're// supposed to do. But you're not holding the line. Not really. You're just holding her back. And you feel it more every day—the way she sinks deeper inside, not fading or angry, but just tired. Tired of being locked away in the dark while you pretend not to feel her screaming. You keep walking forward and going through the motions. But part of you knows: you're not walking toward anything. You're just walking away from her. The truth is that you're not afraid she'll take over. You're afraid that you'll love her. And that maybe—if you ever let yourself become her—you wouldn't want to go back. And maybe that's what hurts the most. Because you could have had her. A life that fit. A name that made sense. A face that smiled for real. People who would have seen you, known you, //loved// you for the first time. The ''real'' you. But you chose silence. You chose to stay still. And she waits, still there behind your eyes, wondering why you never reached back. Years later, the curse is gone. It went away after senior year ended, just as Madame Serena said it would. Now, you wake up with stubble you have to shave every morning. Your jaw is heavier, your brow deeper. Your body is solid and broad and unmistakably masculine. When you speak, your voice rumbles in your chest. You fill out shirts the way you were supposed to. People call you "sir" without hesitation. No one looks twice. It's everything you thought you wanted. And yet, every night, without fail, you lie awake staring at the ceiling, replaying every choice you didn't make. You think about what it might've felt like to try. To say yes instead of maybe. To walk the line instead of hiding from it. To laugh and mean it. To wear softness without apology. To cry and let it change you. To pick a name that felt like home. To be brave enough to lose something and gain yourself. You wonder what it would've felt like to be her. Not as a fantasy or a daydream but as a truth you lived in fully. You came so damn close, too. You think about Luke, about Samantha, about Jessica and Vincent, about Aurora and Jordan. You think about who you were around them. You felt like maybe—just maybe—you could be something more. But you weren't ready. Or maybe you were and you were just too scared. You should be doing well. Your home is quiet. Your life is stable. You have a job and a routine. You're doing well in every way that should matter. But sometimes, in the reflection of a mirror or the dark glass of your phone screen, you catch the shape of someone you used to imagine. And you can't help but cry for what you lost. The curse never needed to punish you, $name. You did that yourself every time you told her no. <<button "Bad Ending #2 — The Girl in the Mirror" "Bad Ending 2 Commentary">><</button>>

Neutral Ending #1 — The Life I Made occurs when you haven't transformed and become feminine enough by Day 16 and have a low trans stat. Hey there. First off, I want to thank you for playing all the way through this path. That said, this route—the one where $name resists the curse, stays masculine, and lives a cisgender life—was never meant to be what //A Mirror's Curse// is about. The game was designed as a story about identity, transformation, and discovering parts of yourself. It's a transgender transformation narrative, and the game is built to explore those feelings. But identity is complex. Not every player is here for the same reasons. This route exists and was supported until now to give you a choice. However, routes like this come with costs. Art, writing, testing, branching, all of it adds up quick. And when those resources are spent on a path that goes against the themes of the game, it becomes impossible to justify continuing it. So this is where this path ends. This ending isn't a failure or a punishment. It's a neutral ending, not a bad ending. This narrative, unfinished and oddly placed as it is, is about an $name who chose to stand still and make a life he could love. The truth is, the best life isn't the one magic tries to hand you. It's the one you make. And whether that life is trans or cis or somewhere in between—what matters is that you chose it. Thanks for walking this path.

<<grantAchievement "NeutralEnding2">>\ You held on. You didn't run from the curse—but you didn't let it take you, either. You didn't fake who you were. You didn't pretend to want something you didn't. You were honest, and that mattered. The cold months came quickly. Snow clung to the edges of the parking lot. Spirit week ended. You focused on the parts of your life that you knew were real—your friends, your schoolwork, the feel of crisp air in your lungs after a long day. But what saved you, in the end, wasn't denial. It was magic. You started training with Amber. Real lessons about focus and control. You learned how to feel the energy of the curse—not just resist it, but understand it. You saw how it tried to root itself in vulnerability, identity, and uncertainty. But you knew who you were. You were $name Yoon. A cisgender man. And with that, the curse had nothing to build on. You //wielded// that knowledge like armor. When the final ritual came, it wasn't flashy. No glowing symbols or thunderclaps. Just a mirror and the truth. You looked into your own reflection and didn't see doubt. You saw a boy—still just a high school senior, still tired and figuring life out—but solid. Real. Whole. And the magic //broke//. You graduated. Life moved on. The world didn't crumble when the curse lifted. You didn't wake up with wings or a tail or a rewritten past. You were still you. Still masculine. Still very much cis. And it felt... right. You went off to college. Got a dorm. A roommate who didn't ask questions. You texted Luke, visited Samantha, even saw Aurora once more—she didn't say much, but gave you a long look, like she knew everything that didn't get spoken out loud. Then the years started to blur together. You graduated. Got a job. A place of your own. A quiet kind of rhythm settled in, steady and unremarkable. But somehow, kind of beautiful. You met someone—''her''. The one who made you laugh when you didn't want to, who challenged you, matched you, chose you. You got married on a spring afternoon when the sky was so blue it looked fake, and your hands didn't stop shaking until you held hers. Not long after that, you had a son. Then a daughter. Two tiny, loud, stubborn people who call you Dad and turn your house into a fortress of blankets, plastic dinosaurs, and spilled milk. You're tired all the time now—but it's a //good// kind of tired. One you wouldn't trade for anything. It's a lazy Sunday afternoon. The kind where time moves slower and the sun pours in through the kitchen window. The type of day that feels ''perfect''. Your daughter is curled up on the living room rug, her hair messy as she hums quietly to herself. She gives dramatic voices to the animal-shaped crayons she refuses to use because they're "too powerful." Your son is in your lap, small and wriggly, holding a toy spaceship and explaining the //entire// plot of his imaginary saga for the third time this week. And your wife is standing over by the stove, smiling as she watches the chaos unfold, her hair tucked behind one ear and her hands still dusted with flour. She made pancakes this morning just because your daughter asked for them in a cute voice. She catches your eye. The smile softens into something warmer. You smile back. And for just a flicker of a second—maybe it's the smell of lavender from the candle on the counter, or the sunlight catching your daughter's face just so, or the fact that your son has started talking about a seer—you remember. You remember the curse. You don't really //think// about the curse anymore. You hadn't in years. Not since college. Not since the last conversation you had with Amber. It was another life. Another story. The weight of the thing. The pull. The way it asked you to change, to surrender, to become something you weren't sure you could name. You remember how damn close it came. The edge you stood on, looking into a future that wanted to reshape you from the inside out. And you wonder, just for the briefest of seconds—what would've happened if you let it? Maybe, in some other world, there's a different you. Someone who let go. Who changed. Who became someone else—someone softer, someone still brave, just in a different way. But then your daughter calls your name, giggling as she throws a crayon at your leg. Your son demands you lift him very high so he can pretend he's flying. Your wife walks over, laughing as she gently tousles your hair and kisses your cheek without a word. And everything else fades. Because this is real. This is the life you built. The love you held onto. The future you chose. And there's not a single version of ''you'' that would give this up. Not even for the chance to know what else could've been. Because this? This is //everything//. <<button "Neutral Ending #1 — The Life I Made" "Neutral Ending 1 Commentary">><</button>>

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I'm sorry there isn't a bunch of content yet, this is intended as a concept and a test to see if a game not focused on NSFW can be popular on this site. Nevertheless, if you read through everything, there should've been around 10,000 words or thirty minutes of playtime. I sincerely hope you enjoyed those thirty minutes! There are a bunch of links below if you enjoyed this game and want to see more. First, the Discord! There is a Discord for this game. It's pretty small right now, but if you want to chat with me or suggest things, the link is [[here.|http://discord.gg/rg4f6FGB33]] Secondly, the Patreon. The Patreon currently does NOT have version 0.02. However, when version 0.02 is released, it'll be released on Patreon first and be exclusive there for a month before its public release. If you support the game, I would appreciate it a lot. It would allow me to work on this game more! The link is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]]

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! First, I just want to thank the Patreons for their support! Hell, you might even be a Patron playing this release a month early! Thank you so much for your financial support, you've given me the opportunity to work on this game more and afford art for this game. Secondly, yes, there will be art for this game! I commissioned an artist to make a custom character avatar that'll change according to the transformations you choose. So I hope you all are ready for that. The artist said they would try and finish by the end of October, so the update introducing art will probably come out somewhere in the middle of November. Lastly, I just want to thank all of you for your overwhelming support of this game. This game hit 100 likes on TFGames in a little over 24 hours, and it's currently floating over 200. I had no idea you all would like this game so much, and I appreciate it a ton. Please consider joining the Discord or Patreon! Again, the Patreon helps me work on this game a lot more. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/rg4f6FGB33]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier.

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! First, I just want to thank everyone for their support yet again! Both to those who contributed financially and those who've just been saying kind words and enjoying the game. Thank you so much! Secondly, the size of the updates will be larger but updates will be slightly less frequent from now on. I ran a poll on my Discord, asking if I should post frequent small updates or slightly less frequent large updates. The latter won! There will be NO difference to the amount of content being released at all, only how and when it is released. Lastly, the background images will start slowly getting replaced with original art I commissioned. I have commissioned art for the Ethan's room, and as I make more money I will continue to replace the current backgrounds. Please consider joining the Discord or Patreon! Again, the Patreon helps me work on this game a lot more and afford art. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/rg4f6FGB33]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier.

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I'm sorry that the game ends in such an abrupt place, I bet a lot of you were expecting to play through Saturday. Sadly, I'm planning on giving you all a couple of options for what you can do on the weekend, and you can choose one to do on Saturday and one to do on Sunday. It'll take a while to write, and the Patreon poll results said you all wanted the results ASAP, so I just decided to release it here. An important thing I have to say is that this game is officially no longer a concept! It's moved onto the alpha stage of development. The game will move on to beta after one ending has been completed and will be considered completed once every ending is finished. It'll take years, but I hope you stick around until the game's completion. Please consider joining the Discord or Patreon! Again, the Patreon helps me work on this game a lot more and afford art. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier.

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I'm sorry if the end of Day 6 feels a little rushed. I know it ends pretty quickly and you all were probably expecting a little more. I had a lot more planned for Day 6, but pushed a lot of the content to Day 7 instead. There are two reasons for this. First, I felt that having too much content in Day 6 would make it feel too bloated. Secondly, I wouldn't have had enough content for Day 7. I know the part with the princess and the final transformation are lacking, but I'm running out of time right now and need to get this update out in a few hours. I apologize if it feels like it ended abruptly. The next update may take a while to come out. It is my birthday soon, so I'll be resting a little. Plus, I'm moving in two months and have to prepare a lot for that. I've been going through a ton of paperwork and it's been a pain. Thank you so much for playing! I hope you enjoyed this update despite everything. Please consider joining the Discord or Patreon! Again, the Patreon helps me work on this game a lot more and afford art. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier.

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I hope you all enjoyed this day that was more focused on feminization and exploration! I felt the last two updates weren't focused on the TGTF part of this TGTF game, so I did my best to make this update more focused on that. I don't have much news, but I did decide to make a survey! This survey helps a lot and shows me what you all want more of in this game. If you have 10 minutes to spare, please take the time to fill it out. Thank you all for sticking with this game. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. Please consider joining the Discord or Patreon! Again, the Patreon helps me work on this game a lot more and afford art. The survey also helps a lot for me to determine what you all like and dislike about the game. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I hope you all enjoyed this day! I tried my best to make sure your character, $name, had a normal day before we jumped into the adult content. As you may have noticed, the CG is not fully colored yet. I did not have many options since rendering artwork takes a very long time. I had already finished all the writing, so I didn't see the point in delaying the update any further. Thank you all for playing this game, I truly appreciate it more than words can express. Please consider joining the Discord or Patreon! Again, the Patreon helps me work on this game a lot more and afford art. The survey also helps a lot for me to determine what you all like and dislike about the game. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I hope you all enjoyed the first days of club! You may feel like there was less content in this update than others, but that's because I had to write all four clubs. In terms of new content, this was the biggest update yet by a pretty big margin. There's over 20k new words in this update. The first adult CG has been fully colored, if you didn't see that, so I recomend checking that out! It looks great, and has been refined a ton. The paperdoll has also been included to include genitals, nipples, and the feet. Please consider joining the Discord or Patreon! Again, the Patreon helps me work on this game a lot more and afford art. The survey also helps a lot for me to determine what you all like and dislike about the game. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! Okay, first things first, I know this ends on a very abrupt note. I wanted the final scene to be one where you're forced to confront your parents. However, this has a LOT of different possibilities depending on a ton of factors. For example, whether you've told your mom, whether you've told your dad, and whether you told Lily. This encounter will probably be very long, and I felt it was good to push this to the next update. Also, the next update will be focused on feminization aspects more! I know there hasn't been a transformation point in like 36k words, and some of you may not be a fan of that. The next update will heavily focus on the cheerleading route and giving you a preview of what that's like. And of course, that'll come with multiple transformation points and a ton of chances to feminize your $name even more. The final thing I have to say is that hip transformations will be added to the paperdoll! A generous donor on the Discord server, Nightwhisper, gave me a substantial sum of money to add hip transformations to be visible on the paperdoll. I've already talked to the sprite artist, and will try and get it out sooner than later. I hope you all have an amazing 2025! Thank you for supporting me and this game through 2024. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! Again, this is another day that's very focused on feminization. I was planning a lot more transformation points, but I decided to just stick with one. Don't worry, the transformation points that were planned for this day have been moved to later days. The total amount of transformation points for week 2 has not gone down at all. The hips transformations are also in progress! Hover over the image to get a sneak peek of what they'll look like. <img src="img/additional/hips_teaser.png" class="img-blur"> Thank you so much for playing! I hope you all enjoyed this update. Please consider joining the Discord or Patreon! Again, the Patreon helps me work on this game a lot more and afford art. The survey also helps a lot for me to determine what you all like and dislike about the game. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! First, I apologize if you weren't aware that this update was split. The spectator route will be finished in the next update, 0.18. The two routes will converge in 0.19, which will give you a nice sneak peek of the magic future path! The hips transformations have been added in the code! Although you can't unlock bigger hips just yet, if you mess with the code a little you may notice you can make $name get some massive hips and thighs. I don't have much to say, I'm exhausted due to some personal health issues and this update took a ton of energy, but thank you for playing! As I'm East Asian, I wish you all a happy Lunar New Year! I know most of you probably don't celebrate it, but I think it's nice anyway. Please consider joining the Discord or Patreon! Again, the Patreon helps me work on this game a lot more and afford art. The survey also helps a lot for me to determine what you all like and dislike about the game. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I hate to do this, but it's amaty e-begging hours. Some unexpected personal issues involving my family have come up, and I'm going to have to take on a massive financial burden to make sure we stay afloat. I won't lie, things are looking pretty rough, and we're trying to hold on until May. Until then though, money will be tight. I know this Patreon has been doing well, and I'm beyond grateful for all the support so far. However, any donations would be massively helpful. If you've ever considered contributing a few extra dollars, now would be the perfect time. Every bit counts, and it would mean the world to me. I'm going to keep commissioning as much art as I can. I know you all love to see the project grow and the game's visual appeal is part of why it's been doing so well. But things might slow down a bit since I need to prioritize taking care of the people I care about. I'll do my best to balance everything, but making sure my family and I can get through this comes first. I hope you all understand! And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming. This update was either a pretty small one or had no new content whatsoever if you're not interested in being the spectator variant of the game. I'm very excited for the next update, which will be the ''magic update''. You will get to spend time with Aurora and Milo learning about how magic works and how good you are at it. Also, a lot of the earlier parts of the game will be reworked to make the characters more consistent and make it better in general. I already went through quite a few passages this update to improve the writing. Please consider joining the Discord or Patreon! Again, the Patreon helps me work on this game a lot more and afford art. The survey also helps a lot for me to determine what you all like and dislike about the game. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] I would appreciate donations if you have money you can spare. The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I hate to do this, but it's amaty e-begging hours. Some unexpected personal issues involving my family have come up, and I'm going to have to take on a massive financial burden to make sure we stay afloat. I won't lie, things are looking pretty rough, and we're trying to hold on until May. Until then though, money will be tight. I know this Patreon has been doing well, and I'm beyond grateful for all the support so far. However, any donations would be massively helpful. If you've ever considered contributing a few extra dollars, now would be the perfect time. Every bit counts, and it would mean the world to me. I'm going to keep commissioning as much art as I can. I know you all love to see the project grow and the game's visual appeal is part of why it's been doing so well. But things might slow down a bit since I need to prioritize taking care of the people I care about. I'll do my best to balance everything, but making sure my family and I can get through this comes first. I hope you all understand! Now, for the actual message I usually put at the end of these. This update was smaller than I expected it to be, but still turned out to be about 28k words. This mostly serves as a prelude to the actual magic paths, which will begin after I finish introducing the rest of the future paths. I hope you all enjoyed this update and look forward to more! I don't have much to say today. The next update will be focused on the three male romance options. I hope you all enjoy! The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] I would appreciate donations if you have money you can spare. The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! It's time for some more amaty e-begging since I'm still going through some financial troubles! Here's the message again! I hate to do this, but it's amaty e-begging hours. Some unexpected personal issues involving my family have come up, and I'm going to have to take on a massive financial burden to make sure we stay afloat. I won't lie, things are looking pretty rough, and we're trying to hold on until May. Until then though, money will be tight. I know this Patreon has been doing well, and I'm beyond grateful for all the support so far. However, any donations would be massively helpful. If you've ever considered contributing a few extra dollars, now would be the perfect time. Every bit counts, and it would mean the world to me. I'm going to keep commissioning as much art as I can. I know you all love to see the project grow and the game's visual appeal is part of why it's been doing so well. But things might slow down a bit since I need to prioritize taking care of the people I care about. I'll do my best to balance everything, but making sure my family and I can get through this comes first. I hope you all understand! And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming. This update was meant to be a tiny filler update but ended up getting a lot longer than I meant for it to. As you can tell, this update was meant to be focused on the male ROs, who didn't get as much attention as they deserved. I hope this helps bring them more depth and attention! If you check the menu, I also added a ton with the help of -=Camille=-, a full stack developer who offered to help with this game. The gallery was added and so was the paperdoll widget, which you may have noticed. If you haven't noticed, please check it out! It's really cool, I promise. I also added a widget to view the stats whenever you want, made save compatibility significantly better, and reworked the credits. I hope you all enjoy! I hope to see you soon for the next update. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] I would appreciate donations if you have money you can spare. The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! As for e-begging, I think my financial situation has stabilized to the point where I don't need to keep the full text! Donations would still be appreciated, and would go a long way in helping me and my family, but I've gotten through the worst of it. Thank you all so much. This update is the largest one so far by a wide margin. It's over 50k words, when the previous largest update was barely over 30k. I know there weren't any transformation points, but I've been handing them out less lately to keep the player from getting all the transformations in just three in-game weeks. The next update will have one! Week 3 in game will be Homecoming Week! I hope you all look forward to what it entails. Thank you all so much for playing! I'd love it if I get to see you all again. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] I would appreciate donations if you have money you can spare. The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I hope you all liked this update! I know there wasn't as much fluff as usual, but a story can only go without conflict for so long. I think the tension with Principal Zhang makes the game's narrative a lot more interesting! I changed my mind and decided to make it so you will be able to go down multiple routes for the foreseeable future. So yes, your dreams of being a magic cheerleader who can act will be possible! I don't have too much more to say, thank you for playing! The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I hope you all enjoyed this update! I //do// think it's a little light on new content, but that's because the next update will be ''massive'', and this update is there to fill in some gaps. I'm sure you've seen this by now, but 0.24 will be a ''shopping trip update'' and you will get to shop for a ton of new clothes. You'll get to make the option to go with a few characters and get Ethan some new clothing! I hope you all enjoy it. I don't have anything else to say today, thank you! The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! It sucks that I had to split the shopping update into four parts, I know. But considering just how long this update was, being the largest update so far just by itself, I hope you understand why it had to be done. I am //desperately// hoping that this update has done enough that the next few updates will be easier to write. Rewriting everything from scratch would be impossible, so I'm hoping I can copy and paste some of the content that doesn't involve another character. Rest assured that I won't be cutting any corners, and each variation of this update will properly incorporate your shopping partner. <ul>\ <li>0.24 - Mom</li> You are here! <li>0.25 - Mom & Lily</li> <li>0.26 - Samantha</li> <li>0.27 - Samantha & Jessica</li> </ul>\ I'm pretty sure the next three updates won't take a month like 0.24 did, so hopefully I can get shopping over with by the time August rolls around. Then, we'll finally be able to move on to Homecoming! Thank you for your continued support and playing this game! I truly appreciate it. Bye! See you next time. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! Okay, let's look at what I said in 0.24's End of Content! "It sucks that I had to split the shopping update into four parts, I know. But considering just how long this update was, being the largest update so far just by itself, I hope you understand why it had to be done." Yes, this had to be done. "I" am //desperately// hoping that this update has done enough that the next few updates will be easier to write. Rewriting everything from scratch would be impossible, so I'm hoping I can copy and paste some of the content that doesn't involve another character. Rest assured that I won't be cutting any corners, and each variation of this update will properly incorporate your shopping partner." This was VERY wrong. I ended up rewriting almost everything from scratch. "I'm pretty sure the next three updates won't take a month like 0.24 did, so hopefully I can get shopping over with by the time August rolls around. Then, we'll finally be able to move on to Homecoming!" It took a month. I do not think all four shopping variations will be over by the time August rolls around. Maybe by the time September rolls around. Anyway, turns out my predictions were ''way'' off. Luckily, I am at least done with this variation! Yay. <ul>\ <li>0.24 - Mom</li> <li>0.25 - Mom & Lily</li> You are here! <li>0.26 - Samantha</li> <li>0.27 - Samantha & Jessica</li> </ul>\ I apologize for how long it took. I've been very sick, and this update turned out to be a lot longer than I expected. I hope you all enjoy it anyway. I appreciate your continued support and hope to see you soon for the next update! I will not be making any predictions this time around. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I want to move on, and I'm sure you guys do too. I've been working on this shopping update for three months. The plot has not progressed at all since the first one. While I think this is very good for replay value, I'm starting to get really tired of writing the same thing over and over again. Unfortunately, there is still one more variation. Due to the way I write things, I can't really come back to it later. Canceling is not an option, as I already committed to four variants. Also, Jessica fans would be out for blood. <ul>\ <li>0.24 - Mom</li> <li>0.25 - Mom & Lily</li> <li>0.26 - Samantha</li> You are here! <li>0.27 - Samantha & Jessica</li> </ul>\ I tried to finish this update a little faster. I wrote like crazy the past four days so I could finish shopping ASAP and move onto Homecoming. Just wait a little more, we're almost there. Thank you all! If you're a Patron, thank you for sticking with me even though the plot hasn't progressed much. I truly appreciate it. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! We're finally done! I started working on this update on May first, and we're at August now. I worked a ''lot'' these past few days to get this update out the door ASAP. My plan is to release the Homecoming game update ASAP. From there, I'm going to try and get the Homecoming dance update out on the game's one year anniversary. Yeah, we're there already! On 9/30/2025, we'll be celebrating this game's first anniversary! I hope you'll all be there with me. <ul>\ <li>0.24 - Mom</li> <li>0.25 - Mom & Lily</li> <li>0.26 - Samantha</li> <li>0.27 - Samantha & Jessica</li> You are here! </ul>\ We are done! No more mall for the foreseeable future! The plot will finally move again! Thank you to all AMC fans! See you soon. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! We are finally out of the mall! I hope you enjoyed the first update in ages that didn't take place inside Crestview Bay's mall. The next update, which I hope to get out quickly, will just be the non-cheerleading variant, if you decided not to become a cheerleader. I know most of you are cheerleaders, so I wanted to get this update out first! I think it'll be quick, since there's not nearly as much to do. I'm hoping to still keep the schedule the same and get the big Homecoming party update out on 9/30, the game's anniversary. I have a LOT planned for that, so I hope you all stay subscribed. Thank you, Meerkats! The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]] <<button "Try out the spectator variant" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I hope you all enjoy the non-cheerleading variant! I worked hard on it, and I added the button in 0.28's End of Content so all you cheerleaders can still enjoy it. I don't have much to say, but I will do my very best to get the Homecoming party update on 9/30, along with a bunch of other stuff I have prepared. Thank you, Meerkats! The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]] <<button "Take a sneak peek at 0.30" "Day 20 - 1">>\<<set $d20sneakpeek to true>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! I hope you liked Homecoming! I did my best to make it good. Please enjoy it. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get one month early access to releases starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Welcome to the current end of content for A Mirror's Curse! Hi, if you're playing this on release it's my birthday today. Amaty is 21 now. I am also moving countries in 3 days and very nervous. Not much to say today, I hope you all enjoy the update. The next one might take a while to come out as I'm going to be very busy with immigration. Thank you! The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get early access to four additional versions starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Hope you liked this update, meerkats! The next update will be Vincent in art. I'm trying to get him some fans, so please go in with an open mind. I swear the guy's cool. Have a great 2026. Bye! The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get early access to four additional versions starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Hope you liked this update, meerkats! This update was very long, I know. Vincent needed attention bad, since he was so far behind in terms of mentions compared to the other characters. It felt like he was more of a side character, which I didn't want. So I tried my best to give Vincent some screentime, along with some new characters to get the art route officially started after nearly 1.5 years of development. The next update will be very busy! We have clubs, auditions, and hangouts! I hope you all like that. The principal arc will also get brought up again. See you guys later! The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get early access to four additional versions starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]] If you have the time, please fill out the survey for 0.33 [[here.|https://forms.gle/MUC7APEq2SqhEvM58]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Hope you all enjoyed that update! I thought it was good to bring the principal back to make sure the main conflict isn't forgotten. I'm sure there will be a lot more Mr. Bennet fans from now on. He is a pretty good guy. I put another transformation point after, like, nearly a year now. Hopefully that keeps everyone satisfied for a while. Thank you for playing! The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get early access to four additional versions starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]] If you have the time, please fill out the survey for 0.34 [[here.|https://forms.gle/b8qRwtGrVJjVs1Wz7]]

<img src="img/additional/itsmirrover.png"> Hope you all enjoyed the update! I'm sure a lot of you were happy to see Jessica, especially sweaty Jessica. The principal arc has also started back up in earnest, which is cool. Uhh, what do I have to say here. I have a lot less to say here than I did before. Uh... enjoy the Culture Festival, I guess? See you in 4-6 weeks, meerkats. The link to the Discord is [[here.|http://discord.gg/amaty]] The link to the Patreon is [[here.|https://www.patreon.com/amaty]] Patrons get early access to four additional versions starting from the 10 USD tier. The link to the Ko-Fi for one-time donations is [[here.|https://ko-fi.com/amaty]] The link to the survey is [[here.|https://forms.gle/Hhr8ZCUKJE4souFPA]] If you have the time, please fill out the survey for 0.35 [[here.|https://forms.gle/mBMi4YGtDsXeY1iv6]]

<<if $eventBind is true>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $bind to true>>\ You decide to bind your chest, not wanting anyone to know about the curse yet. \ <<if $nextScene is "Day 7 - Bathroom" or $nextScene is "Day 7 - Shave">>\ You're in the bathroom right now, but you promise yourself that you'll bind once you're done showering with a towel. It's not perfect, but it'll work until you figure out something more permanent. <<elseif $nextScene is "Day 8 - Change (Restroom) 1" or $nextScene is "Day 11 - Restroom">>\ You're in the school restroom right now, so there isn't much you you can use to bind. You search around and find a towel that looks clean enough. You can't help but be a little disgusted, and you silently hope that this towel's been washed. You wrap it tightly around your chest. It's not perfect, but it'll work until you figure out something more permanent. <<elseif $nextScene is "Day 8 - Critter Crossing">>\ You're in your bedroom, so you have plenty of options to work with. You pick up an old towel on the floor, and you're pretty sure it's clean. You wrap it tightly around your chest, and the towel won't fail. <<else>>\ You find some fabric and wrap it tightly around your chest, deciding to keep that until you can figure out something more permanent. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You decide to leave your chest, not caring about what people think. It is your body, after all. The decision is nerve-wracking, but you straighten your posture, determined to stop hiding. It's scary, but alleviates a lot of pressure from your shoulders. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" $afterEvent>><</button>>

Your latest transformation settles over you like a wave that leaves ripples long after it's passed. The familiar tingling sensation fades, and you glance down instinctively only to freeze. Your top clings tightly to your chest, the fabric outlining curves that weren't there before. Your breath hitches as you realize what just happened. Your boobs have grown to the point where they're noticeable. Before, they were just breast buds, invisible unless you were looking closely. But now, you would need something to hide them. You bite your nails nervously, wondering what you should do. You look around, suddenly becoming hyperaware of your surroundings. You're currently in the \ \ <<if $nextScene is "Day 7 - Bathroom" or $nextScene is "Day 7 - Shave" or $nextScene is "Day 8 - Change (Restroom) 1" or $nextScene is "Day 16 - Shave 1">>\ bathroom, so you //are// alone. But still, you could be exposed at any time. <<elseif $nextScene is "Day 8 - Change (Restroom) 1" or $nextScene is "Day 11 - Restroom" or $nextScene is "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 2">>\ school restroom right now, so there isn't much you can use to bind. You search around and find a towel that looks clean enough. You can't help but be a little disgusted, and you silently hope that this towel's been washed. You wrap it tightly around your chest. It's not perfect, but it'll work until you figure out something more permanent. <</if>>\ Your hands tremble as you touch your chest, feeling the soft curve beneath your fingers. You realize you have to make a choice. Your clothes weren't going to magically become looser, and the changes weren't going to go away. Two options crystallize in your mind. You remember seeing something online about chest binders, and how transgender men often used them to alleviate dysphoria. They could flatten out your chest and make things less noticeable. You didn't have a chest binder, but you could makeshift one. You could also just let it be. You could stop hiding and stop fighting what's happening. The thought makes your stomach twist, but there's also a strange sense of liberation in it. <<button "Bind your chest" "Event - Breasts 1">>\<<set $eventBind to true>>\<<trackChoice "event_breasts_bind" true "transformation">><</button>> <<button "Don't bind your chest" "Event - Breasts 1">>\<<set $eventBind to false>>\<<trackChoice "event_breasts_bind" false "transformation">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<if $eventMomNotice is true>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Mom, it's really not something I can explain easily,"@@ you hesitate, taking a deep breath. @@.player;"It's weird. Really weird. But I'll tell you."@@ Your mom's eyebrows furrow, concern deepening in her eyes. @@.girl;"Go on,"@@ she encourages. @@.player;"A few days ago, at the Autumn Festival, something happened,"@@ you begin. @@.player;"A seer there, Madame Serena, she put a curse on me."@@ @@.girl;"A curse?"@@ she asks, her face unreadable. @@.player;"I know it's hard to believe, but I swear what I'm saying is the truth,"@@ you rush to explain. @@.player;"Every time I do something girly, it makes my body more feminine. I promise it's true—how else could I have changed this much in a week?"@@ Your mom stares at you, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, everything was silent other than the pounding of your heart. Suddenly, she reaches out and takes your hand in hers. @@.girl;"I don't know if I believe in curses, but I believe you,"@@ your mom begins. @@.girl;"You're my son, and I love you—no matter what. We'll figure this out together, okay?"@@ You feel a lump rise in your throat, relief washing over you like a wave. @@.player;"Th-Thanks Mom,"@@ you stutter out, emotions overwhelming you. @@.girl;"I'm going to need you to be honest with me from now on though, okay?"@@ she squeezes your hand. @@.girl;"How do you feel about these changes?"@@ <<if $acceptance > 14>>\ @@.player;"They're not too bad,"@@ you admit, having accepted the curse quite a bit. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you admit, not having accepted the curse much yet. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"I see,"@@ your mom says, slowly nodding. @@.girl;"Explain what exactly happened."@@ You start explaining everything in detail, a weight lifting off your chest. It isn't easy to admit everything, but you //are// happy to have your mom's help. By the time your conversation ends, you're so glad you don't have to face this on your own. <<button "Continue" $afterEvent>><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'm fine, okay Mom?"@@ you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. @@.player;"I swear it's nothing you need to worry about."@@ @@.girl;"Nothing I need to worry about?"@@ your mom asks incredulously. @@.girl;"Look at you, $name! You look androgynous, I wouldn't be able to tell if you were a boy or a girl if I saw you in public."@@ @@.player;"It's really not a big deal,"@@ you say. Your mom stares at you, searching your face for a crack. Finally, she sighs and shakes her head. @@.girl;"Fine,"@@ she begins. @@.girl;"If you're not ready to tell me, I won't force you. But this isn't over, $name. I'm your mom, and this is something I can't just stop worrying about. Just know I'm here if you need to talk."@@ Your mom opens her mouth as if she wants to say more, a flicker of anger still in her eyes, but she just leaves your room in silence. You know your mom won't let this go, and deep down you knew she had every right to be worried. But for now, you weren't ready to tell her anything. <<button "Continue" $afterEvent>><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> @@.player;"Can we go to my room to talk about this?"@@ you ask, your heart pounding. You suppose you should've expected this since you have changed $femineChanges times now. @@.girl;"Sure, but you'll have to explain what's been going on with you,"@@ your mom responds, a stern expression on her face. You quickly lead her into your room, and the both of you sit on the bed. @@.player;"Umm, so..."@@ you murmur, not knowing what to tell her. @@.player;"I've been experimenting with my looks."@@ @@.girl;"Don't play dumb with me, $name,"@@ your mom says, furrowing her eyebrows. @@.girl;"You look different. Significantly different. It can't just be explained as experimenting anymore. I know that this isn't working out or a growth spurt, so don't play me for a fool. I'm your mother, $name. I watched you grow up. So don't feed me excuses and tell me what's really going on with you."@@ Your mind races as you wonder what you should tell her. You know you can't make any excuses at this point. <<button "Tell her the truth about the curse" "Event - Mom Notice 1">>\<<set $eventMomNotice to true>>\<<trackChoice "event_mom_notice_tell_truth" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Refuse to tell her" "Event - Mom Notice 1">>\<<set $eventMomNotice to false>>\<<trackChoice "event_mom_notice_tell_truth" true "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/additional/minor.png"> This game is intended for mature audiences only and contains adult themes, including explicit and pornographic content. If you are under 18, you should not play this game. Please respect this boundary, as it helps ensure a safe and appropriate gaming experience for everyone. Please exit now and return when you meet the age requirement. Thank you for understanding.

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $eyesProg += 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Eyes 2">>\ You blink, feeling an odd pressure around your eyes, like they're straining to adjust. You feel the chill along your eyelids. You look in the mirror as your eyes seem to expand with each blink. Your eyelids stretch gently to accommodate the size, and the creases around your eyes smooth out as they grow larger. It doesn't hurt at all, although it does look a little freaky. The transformation ends, and you realize your eyes definitely are larger and more pronounced, giving your face a delicate quality that wasn't there before. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $eyesProg += 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Eyes 3">>\ A familiar sensation returns to your eyes, but this time far more intense. Your vision blurs momentarily as warmth pulses around your eyelids. Your eyes widen even more, the irises seeming to fill up even more of the space. The monolids you had before are now giving way to double eyelids. A smooth, defined fold forms above each eye, adding depth and a more pronounced shape. You blink slowly, adjusting to the change. Your eyes are now very large and captivating, with the double eyelids giving them an alluring quality that wasn't present before. Your eyes are undeniably feminine now. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $foreheadProg = true>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Forehead">>\ You feel a subtle tingling around your forehead that quickly turns into a warm, almost soothing sensation. The skin around your brow begins to feel tighter and smoother. Your forehead, which was broad and slightly angular, began to smooth out. The sharp lines disappear, with a rounded delicate contour taking its place. The transformation finishes, and your forehead has been replaced by a more feminine one, adding grace to your face that wasn't there before. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $hairProg = 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 1>>\ <<trackTransformation "Hair 1">>\ A chill runs through your body, centered around your scalp. You feel your hair becoming heavier and warmer. Your fingers instinctively reach up to touch it, but it's not the familiar feeling you're used to. Instead of it being slightly coarse, they're smooth, like threads of satin. Each strand of hair catches the light, shimmering with a healthy sheen. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $hairProg = 2>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 10>>\ <<trackTransformation "Hair 2">>\ A familiar tingling sensation returns to your scalp. This time, it's not the silkiness of your hair, but the length. The sensation begins at the roots and moves down, stretching your medium-length hair. The strands begin to creep past the tip of your ears, brushing against your neck. It has a slight feminine wave to it. Your hair now reaches past your shoulders, softening your overall appearance. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $hairProg = 3>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 10>>\ <<trackTransformation "Hair 3">>\ The familiar sensation returns to your scalp, but it's far more intense than before. You watch as your hair begins to grow once again, the changes being dramatic. The strands lengthen rapidly, cascading down past your shoulders in smooth, fluid waves. Your hair grows to a luxurious length, reaching down your back. This transformation leaves you with long, flowing hair that exudes femininity. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $jawlineProg += 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Jawline 1">>\ You feel a tightness along your jaw, one that's hard to ignore. The hard edges of your jawline, usually defined and angular, start to soften. The sharpness is replaced by some roundness—nothing super noticeable, but definitely enough to make a difference. There's a newfound symmetry to your face, one that makes you look a touch more feminine. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $jawlineProg += 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Jawline 2">>\ You feel a familiar tightening sensation along your jaw. You brace yourself, knowing another transformation is about to take place. You look at your reflection, seeing the angles of your jawline start to narrow even further. Your chin tapers into a softer, rounder point. As the transformation finishes, your jaw now loses the square firmness that had once been there. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $jawlineProg += 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Jawline 3">>\ The tightening sensation returns to your jaw, a feeling you now anticipate. The tightening is stronger this time, almost as if the bones are shifting beneath the surface of your skin. Your jaw continues to narrow, slimming down to a delicate point. The width of your lower face reduces as well, creating a graceful, oval shape. You now have an unmistakably refined and feminine jawline, with no trace of the harsh jawline you once had. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $lipsProg += 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 1>>\ <<trackTransformation "Lips 1">>\ You feel a strange tingling sensation spread across your lips. It's subtle at first, like a gentle warmth, but quickly erupts into something you can't ignore. You watch with curiosity as your lips begin to shift. They go from thin and slightly chapped to a little plumper and rounder. The texture becomes smoother as well. You press your lips together, noticing a definite difference. They're not dramatically different, but your lips have a gentleness and faint pout to them that wasn't there before. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $lipsProg += 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 1>>\ <<trackTransformation "Lips 2">>\ A familiar tingling sensation spreads across your lips again. Your lips begin to plump even more, the cupid's bow becoming more defined. Your lips get a balanced, pillowy look. The overall effect is subtle but definitely makes a difference. Your lips now possess a natural pout and are full and soft. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $noseProg = true>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Nose">>\ As you glance at your reflection, a strange warmth spreads across your nose. It's a bit of a weird sensation, but more weird than uncomfortable. You reach up to touch it, feeling the subtle shift beneath your fingertips. Your nose, once broad and with a defined bridge, begins to narrow and soften. The transformation completes, and your nose is now smaller and has gentle curves, definitely more feminine. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $genitalsProg = 1>>\ <<trackTransformation "Genitals 1">>\ A sensation of warmth initiates at the base of your penis, gently spreading along the length of your shaft. The heat concentrates near the back, which begins to tingle and pulsate. You notice the shaft starting to recede, slowly at first, then more rapidly, as if retreating into your body. The length of your penis reduces from six inches to four inches in a smooth, almost fluid motion. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $genitalsProg = 2>>\ <<trackTransformation "Genitals 2">>\ A familiar yet distinct wave of warmth washes over your groin, focusing on your already contracted penis. Your member, previously four inches long, begins to decrease in size further, the head and shaft drawing closer to your body. Your testicles also seem to adjust accordingly, drawing closer to your body. You're left with a notably smaller organ. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $genitalsProg = 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Genitals 3">>\ As the heat emanates from your groin, it's as though a surge of molten energy is reshaping your very being. Your once-familiar organ starts to soften and morph. The head of your penis begins to flatten and fold inward upon itself, forming a new shape. The shaft continues to retract, merging seamlessly with your body as it disappears. In its place, two delicate lips emerge, tender and sensitive. These lips part slightly to reveal a new opening. Nestled above this, your testicles ascend and merge into your sensitive clitoris. All around, your pubic region reshapes itself to accommodate this. The entire process is disorienting and fascinating, leaving you with an entirely different set of genitalia. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $genitalConfirm to true>>\ A strange pressure builds between your legs, heavier and more insistent than any of the changes you've felt so far. Your breath catches and your stomach twists as you realize what's going to happen. Your hands hover hesitantly over the last untouched part of your body, the one thing that has always been constant. The thought races through your mind: Do I really want this? Your fingers clench into fists. You still have control. You can stop this. <<button "Confirm your choice" "Transformation">><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $buttProg = 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Butt 1">>\ A slow, tingling warmth spreads through your backside, sending a shiver up your spine. Your flat rear begins to round out, softening into the earliest hint of a curve, subtle yet undeniably alluring. When you shift your weight, you can feel the gentle bounce, the way your figure now carries just a bit more shape. It's a teasing promise of what's to come. It's not dramatic, but the newfound softness already adds a touch of femininity. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $buttProg = 2>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Butt 2">>\ A deep, sultry warmth pulses through your backside, and this time, the change is undeniable. Your hips subtly shift as your rear plumps up further, rounding into a more pronounced curve. The soft flesh gains a natural bounce, the once modest shape now taking on a distinctly feminine allure, pressing gently against your clothing in a way that feels impossible to ignore. Your new curves draw attention without even trying—teasing, tempting, and irresistible. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $buttProg = 3>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Butt 3">>\ An intoxicating heat surges, sending a shudder of anticipation down your spine as your curves reach their final form. Your ass expands dramatically, swelling into a full, round, and plump shape that dominates your silhouette with its voluptuous allure. The weight of your new curves is impossible to ignore as they press snugly against your clothes. Your hips roll effortlessly and your bubble butt is now the centerpiece of your figure. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $feetProg = 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 1>>\ <<trackTransformation "Feet">>\ A heat spreads through your feet, starting at your toes and creeping up through your arches, reshaping them with an almost teasing delicacy. Your once broader, more rugged feet begin to refine. The skin softens to a silky smoothness that begs to be touched. The arches lift slightly, forming a graceful curve that gives your feet an elegant appearance. Your toes lengthen a bit as well, becoming slender and perfectly proportioned. Each delicate detail—from the gentle slope of your arch to the soft, natural pink flush of your soles—carries a certain allure. Your feet are now exquisitely feminine, dainty, and built to captivate. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $hipsProg = 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Hips 1">>\ A slow, sultry heat spreads through your hips. It's a deep, almost teasing sensation that makes your breath hitch. The once straight, rigid line of your lower torso begins to soften, your hip bones shifting, widening //just// enough to hint at the curves yet to come. It's not dramatic yet, but the change is undeniable—you can feel the gentle outward flare that wasn't there before. It's a tantalizing promise of the luscious shape that's beginning to form. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $hipsProg = 2>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Hips 2">>\ The warmth is stronger this time, spreading across your hips as if guiding them into their new shape. The subtle curve from before deepens, your hip bones widening further while the surrounding flesh softens, giving your lower body a noticeably rounder, more feminine contour. There's a distinct difference now—a gentle, natural flair that smooths the transition between your waist and thighs. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $hipsProg = 3>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Hips 3">>\ A deep, insistent warmth spreads through your hips, more intense than before, as if your entire lower body is making one final, irreversible shift. Your hip bones expand outward dramatically, pushing your stance wider as plush curves fill in around them, creating an exaggerated hourglass shape. The once subtle flare has transformed into full, sweeping hips, broad and undeniably feminine. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $legsProg = 2>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Legs 1">>\ A warm sensation flows through your legs, slowly working its way down from your thighs to your calves, signaling the first stage of their transformation. The once straight, somewhat unremarkable shape begins to refine, gaining a gentle taper. Your calves take on a subtle curve and the first traces of an alluring silhouette forms. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $legsProg = 3>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Legs 2">>\ A deep warmth pulses through your legs, intensifying as your calves sculpt into their final irresistibly feminine shape. The gentle curves from before deepen into a smooth, graceful taper, your lower legs now perfectly proportioned. Your calves round out just enough to create a naturally elegant shape, accentuating the sensual flow from thigh to ankle. Your leg's length seems to stretch subtly, adding to the poised, alluring look. Every step now carries a mesmerizing fluidity. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $thighsProg = 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Thighs 1">>\ A gentle warmth spreads through your thighs, and with it, a change begins. The once straight, unremarkable shape starts to soften as a slight fullness develops, smoothing out any sharp angles. Your thighs now have a gentle curve, carrying the first hints of feminine softness. Though not dramatic, the change is enough to give your lower body a more balanced, shapely appearance. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $thighsProg = 2>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Thighs 2">>\ A deeper warmth surges through your thighs, and the change is unmistakable this time. They expand with a newfound fullness, rounding out into thick, shapely curves that press together when you stand. The subtle softness has transformed into plush, feminine volume, giving your lower body a distinct balance. Their generous shape completes the transformation into a truly feminine form. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

You focus the chill to a specific body part. <<if $faceControl is true or $faceControl is undefined>>\ <<if $hairProg > 2>>\ \ <<elseif $hairProg > 1>>\ <<button "Hair" "Transformation - Hair 3">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "hair3">>\<</button>> <<elseif $hairProg > 0>>\ <<button "Hair" "Transformation - Hair 2">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "hair2">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Hair" "Transformation - Hair 1">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "hair1">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $eyesProg > 2>>\ \ <<elseif $eyesProg > 1>>\ <<button "Eyes" "Transformation - Eyes 3">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "eyes3">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Eyes" "Transformation - Eyes 2">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "eyes2">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $noseProg is false>>\ <<button "Nose" "Transformation - Nose">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "nose">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $lipsProg > 1>>\ \ <<elseif $lipsProg > 0>>\ <<button "Lips" "Transformation - Lips 2">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "lips2">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Lips" "Transformation - Lips 1">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "lips1">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $foreheadProg is false>>\ <<button "Forehead" "Transformation - Forehead">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "forehead">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $jawlineProg > 2>>\ \ <<elseif $jawlineProg > 1>>\ <<button "Jawline" "Transformation - Jawline 3">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "jawline3">>\<</button>> <<elseif $jawlineProg > 0>>\ <<button "Jawline" "Transformation - Jawline 2">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "jawline2">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Jawline" "Transformation - Jawline 1">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "jawline1">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\ \ <<if $upperControl is true>>\ <<if $armsProg is 0>>\ <<button "Arms" "Transformation - Arms">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "arms">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $feminineLooks > 29>>\ <<if $breastsProg > 2>>\ \ <<elseif $breastsProg > 1>>\ <<button "Breasts" "Transformation - Breasts 3">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "breasts3">>\<</button>> <<elseif $breastsProg > 0 and $day < 18>>\ <<button "Breasts" "Transformation - Breasts 2">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "breasts2">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Breasts" "Transformation - Breasts 1">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "breasts1">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\ \ <<if $waistProg > 1>>\ \ <<elseif $waistProg > 0>>\ <<button "Waist" "Transformation - Waist 2">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "waist2">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Waist" "Transformation - Waist 1">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "waist1">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $handsProg is 0>>\ <<button "Hands" "Transformation - Hands">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "hands">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\ \ <<if $lowerControl is true>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ <<if $hipsProg > 2>>\ \ <<elseif $hipsProg > 1>>\ <<button "Hips" "Transformation - Hips 3">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "hips3">>\<</button>> <<elseif $hipsProg > 0>>\ <<button "Hips" "Transformation - Hips 2">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "hips2">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Hips" "Transformation - Hips 1">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "hips1">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\ \ <<if $buttProg > 2>>\ \ <<elseif $buttProg > 1>>\ <<button "Butt" "Transformation - Butt 3">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "butt3">>\<</button>> <<elseif $buttProg > 0>>\ <<button "Butt" "Transformation - Butt 2">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "butt2">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Butt" "Transformation - Butt 1">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "butt1">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $transgender > 24 or $genitalConfirm is true>>\ <<if $genitalsProg > 1>>\ \ <<elseif $genitalsProg > 0>>\ <<button "Genitals" "Transformation - Genitals 2">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "genitals2">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Genitals" "Transformation - Genitals 1">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "genitals1">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<button "Genitals" "Transformation - Genitals Cis">><</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $thighsProg > 1>>\ \ <<elseif $thighsProg > 0>>\ <<button "Thighs" "Transformation - Thighs 2">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "thighs2">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Thighs" "Transformation - Thighs 1">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "thighs1">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $legsProg > 1>>\ \ <<elseif $legsProg > 0>>\ <<button "Legs" "Transformation - Legs 2">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "legs2">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Legs" "Transformation - Legs 1">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "legs1">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $feetProg is 0>>\ <<button "Feet" "Transformation - Feet">>\<<set $recentTransformation to "feet">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $armsProg = 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Arms">>\ You feel a soft tingling sensation running up your arms, and you watch in the mirror as the muscles and skin along your arms begin to subtly shift. They reshape into something smoother and more delicate, your broad arms beginning to slim down. Your upper arms lose their bulk, and the width of your arms reduces. Your forearms follow suit, slimming down with a gentle taper toward your wrists. Your arms now look slender, elegant, and refined. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $breastsProg = 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Breasts 1">>\ You're suddenly aware of a subtle pressure in your chest, a sensation you've become quite familiar with. It's as if something is gently pushing outward from within. You glance down, noticing the faintest hint of fullness forming beneath your shirt. Your once-flat chest develops the smallest curve, the beginnings of what could be considered breasts. It's the first hint of femininity, subtle but real, marking the start of more to come. The gentle fullness makes you look softer in appearance. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $breastsProg = 2>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Breasts 2">>\ <img src="img/animations/smallbreastexpansion.gif"> The familiar sensation returns, but this time it's more intense, more pronounced. You feel the subtle pressure in your chest building again, as if something is expanding just beneath your skin. Glancing down, you can see the barely-there curves beginning to swell and growing with a slow, steady fullness. The small mounds develop into small but distinctly feminine breasts. The skin feels tighter, more sensitive to the touch, as the soft tissue beneath expands. Your chest now has a definitive shape, no longer flat or boyish. Your breasts are small but undeniably there. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $breastsProg = 3>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 5>>\ <<trackTransformation "Breasts 3">>\ <img src="img/animations/mediumbreastexpansion.gif"> The tingling sensation intensifies in your chest once again, signaling the final stage of your breast transformation. This time, the pressure is more pronounced, as if your body is making one last push toward completing its changes. You glance down at your chest and watch as the small, delicate mounds begin to swell again. Your breasts gain volume and fullness, becoming medium-sized, perfectly shaped breasts. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $handsProg = 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 1>>\ <<trackTransformation "Hands">>\ The familiar tingling sensation spreads through your hands. You look down, watching closely for what you know will be next. The first thing you notice is your fingers thinning, becoming longer, slender, and more delicate. The knuckles smooth out as well, losing their roughness. The palms of your hands also undergo a transformation, narrowing and shrinking just slightly. Your nails elongate and take on a feminine oval shape, adding to the graceful look of your new hands. Your hands now appear smaller, softer, and more refined. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $waistProg = 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Waist 1">>\ You feel a gentle, tightening sensation around your midsection. You watch the shape of your waist begin to subtly shift in the mirror. The change is gradual at first, your straight, somewhat boxy torso beginning to soften. The muscles and fat in the area seem to be redistributing, creating the beginnings of a more defined waistline. It's not an extreme change, but enough that your previously unremarkable waist now has a slight, feminine taper. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

<<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $waistProg = 2>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + 3>>\ <<trackTransformation "Waist 2">>\ You feel a deeper, more intense tightening sensation around your midsection. Unlike the first subtle shift, this time the change is more pronounced. Your waist narrows further, pulling inward with a noticeable curve that accentuates your overall figure. The faint inward slope becomes a defined, graceful indentation, creating a more dramatic hourglass silhouette. Your torso now has a fully formed waistline that cinches in elegantly. Your torso has lost all traces of its former straightness, replaced by a sleek, feminine waist that gives you a perfectly balanced figure. <<button "Return" $nextScene>><</button>>

/* _args[0] is a map with the following keys: /* id -> !!REQUIRED!! the unique id of the CG */ /* title -> ??OPTIONAL?? the title of the CG */ /* unlockCondition -> ??OPTIONAL?? the unlock condition */ /* _args[1] is an array of objects with the following keys: /* sourceUrl -> !!REQUIRED!! the source url of the image */ /* condition -> ??OPTIONAL?? the condition to check */ /* variant -> ??OPTIONAL?? the variant to check */ /* _args[1] = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/jessicaMeeting/jessicaMeetingleyes.png", "condition": $jessicaCGeyes, "variant": 2 }, ... ] */ /* for loop syntax: <<for _i to 0; _i lt _what.length; _i++>> <</for>> */ <<widget "image">> <<set _id = _args[0].get("id")>> <<set _sources = _args[1]>> /* Thumbnail image. The target id is used to open the full screen image on click.*/ <a class="cg thumbnail" @href="'#' + _id"> <div class="image-container"> /* We test if the CG is locked. If it is, we display the locked image. */ <<if not (_args[0].has("unlockCondition")) or (_args[0].has("unlockCondition") and _args[0].get("unlockCondition") is true) >> /* We loop through all the sources and test if the condition and requirement are the same. If they are, we display the image. */ <<for _i to 0; _i lt _sources.length; _i++>> <<set _condition = undefined>> <<set _requirement = undefined>> <<if _sources[_i].hasOwnProperty("condition") and _sources[_i].hasOwnProperty("requirement")>> <<set _condition = _sources[_i].condition>> <<set _requirement = _sources[_i].requirement>> <</if>> <<if _condition === _requirement>> <img @src="_sources[_i].sourceUrl"> <</if>> <</for>> <<else>> <img src="img/additional/lockedcg.png"> <</if>> </div> /* We display the title of the CG if it exists. */ <<if _args[0].has("title") and passage() is "gallery">> <h2><<print _args[0].get("title")>></h2> <</if>> </a> /* Full screen image on click*/ <a href="#_" class="cg fullscreen" @id="_id"> <div class="image-container full-image"> /* We test if the CG is locked. If it is, we display the locked image. */ <<if not (_args[0].has("unlockCondition")) or (_args[0].has("unlockCondition") and _args[0].get("unlockCondition") is true) >> /* We loop through all the sources and test if the condition and requirement are the same. If they are, we display the image. */ <<for _i to 0; _i lt _sources.length; _i++>> <<set _condition = undefined>> <<set _requirement = undefined>> <<if _sources[_i].hasOwnProperty("condition") and _sources[_i].hasOwnProperty("requirement")>> <<set _condition = _sources[_i].condition>> <<set _requirement = _sources[_i].requirement>> <</if>> <<if _condition === _requirement>> <img class="full-image" @src="_sources[_i].sourceUrl"> <</if>> <</for>> <<else>> <img class="full-image" src="img/additional/lockedcg.png"> <</if>> </div> /* We display the title of the CG if it exists. */ <<if _args[0].has("title") and passage() is "gallery">> <h2><<print _args[0].get("title")>></h2> <</if>> </a> <</widget>>

<<widget "locked">> <div class="achievement locked"> <<if $args[0]>> <div class="achievement-number"><<print $args[0]>></div> <<else>> <div class="achievement-number">0000</div> <</if>> <img src="img/achievements/achievement_locked.png" alt="Achievement: Locked"> <p>Locked</p> <p class="description">This achievement is locked.</p> </div> <</widget>>

/* This passage is used to display the paperdoll in the sidebar because with can't directly include the paperdoll passage in the sidebar div. */ <<paperdoll>>

<<widget "paperdoll">> <<if $day > 18>> <<set $bind to false>> <</if>> <<if $d7shave is true and $day < 16>> <<set $bodyhair to 0>> <<set $pubichair to false>> <<elseif $bodyhair is undefined and $day < 16>> <<set $bodyhair to 2>> <<set $pubichair to true>> <</if>> <<set _hairColors = ["Black", "Blonde", "Brunette", "Ginger"]>> <<set _breastSizes = ["Flat", "Flat", "Small", "Medium", "Large", "XL", "2XL", "3XL"]>> <<set _hipsSizes = ["Small", "Medium", "Large", "VeryLarge"]>> <<set _penisSizes = ["Average", "Tiny", "Small"]>> <<set _tops = [ "Shirt", "Flannel", "TankTop", "Jacket", "CroppedWhiteTankTop", "AutumnSweaterT", "CatShirt", "KnittedSweater", "CheerleaderTop", "TankTopTrans", "GymShirt", "PajamaTop", "Cardigan", "GraphicTee", "Symmetry", "CreamSweater", "B&WCheckeredTop", "ButterflyHoodie", "CreamTop", "WhiteHeartTop", "CreamTop2", "Jersey", "SchoolHoodie", "GuineaPigShirt", "PinkStripedTop", "WhiteTurtleneck", "LeatherJacket", "BlackSuitShirt", "NerdyStripedShirt", "ArtsyTop", "Bunjamas", "GrayHoodie", "LeatherJacket2" ]>> <<set _pants = [ "CargoShorts", "SkinnyJeans", "AthleticShorts", "AutumnPants", "CheerleaderShorts", "CheerleaderSkirt", "DenimSkirt", "GymShorts", "PajamaPants", "Trousers", "Leggings", "BlackSkirt", "BrownSkirt", "BlackSlitSkirt", "DenimSkirt2", "BaggyJeans", "PinkShorts", "HeartChainSkirt", "PurpleSkirt", "PlainSkirt", "BlackSuit", "NerdySlacks", "BlackDenimPants", "Bunjamas", "BlackJeans" ]>> <<set _underwear = [ "Boxers", "BasicWhitePanties", "BasicBlackPanties", "BasicLavenderPanties", "BlackPanties" ]>> <<set _lowerUndergarments = [ "BlackPantyhose", "TransparentPantyhose", "BlackThighHigh", "TransparentThighHigh", "BlackKneeHigh", "TransparentKneeHigh", "BlackFishnets", "EmoThighBand" ]>> <<set _upperUndergarments = [ "BasicWhiteBra", "BasicBlackBra", "BasicLavenderBra", "LacyBlackBra" ]>> <<set _outfits = [ "FloralDress", "GanyuCosplay", "CreamDress", "FancyBlueDress", "FancyBlackDress", "BlackGothDress", "MaidDress", "FancyWhiteDress" ]>> <div class="paperdoll"> <<if $feminineLooks < 40>>   <<if $hairStyle is 0 or $hairStyle is undefined>> <<if $hairProg is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/hair/Back/Ethan_M_Hair_Back_Loose_Medium.png"> <<elseif $hairProg is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/hair/Back/Ethan_M_Hair_Back_Loose_Long.png"> <</if>> <<elseif $hairStyle is 1>> <<if $hairProg is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/hair/Back/Ethan_M_Hair_Back_Ponytail_Medium.png"> <<elseif $hairProg is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/hair/Back/Ethan_M_Hair_Back_Ponytail_Long.png"> <</if>> <</if>>  <img src="img/paperdoll/male/hair/Back/Ethan_M_Hair_Back_Short.png">  <img src="img/paperdoll/male/Ethan_M_BaseBody.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/Ethan_M_Body_Head.png">  <<if $d7shave is true>>  <<else>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/bodyHair/Ethan_M_BaseBody_LegHair_Long.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/bodyHair/Ethan_M_NSFW_PubicHair.png"> <</if>>  <<if $nude is 2>>  <<if $genitalsProg is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/genitals/Ethan_M_NSFW_Penis_Average.png"> <<elseif $genitalsProg is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/genitals/Ethan_M_NSFW_Penis_Small.png"> <<elseif $genitalsProg is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/genitals/Ethan_M_NSFW_Penis_Tiny.png"> <</if>> <<if $d7shave isnot true>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/bodyHair/Ethan_M_NSFW_PubicHair.png"> <</if>> <<elseif $nude is 1>>  <img src="img/paperdoll/male/undergarments/underwear/Underwear/Ethan_M_Underwear_Boxers.png"> <<if $genitalsProg is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/undergarments/underwear/AveragePenis/Ethan_M_Underwear_Boxers_AveragePenis.png"> <<elseif $genitalsProg is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/undergarments/underwear/SmallPenis/Ethan_M_Underwear_Boxers_SmallPenis.png"> <<elseif $genitalsProg is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/undergarments/underwear/TinyPenis/Ethan_M_Underwear_Boxers_TinyPenis.png"> <</if>> <<elseif $nude is 0>>   <<if $shoes is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/feet/Ethan_M_Feet_Shoes_Converse.png"> <<elseif $shoes is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/feet/Ethan_M_Feet_Shoes_Sneakers.png"> <</if>>  <<if $pants is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/lowerBody/Ethan_M_LowerBody_Shorts.png"> <<elseif $pants is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/lowerBody/Ethan_M_LowerBody_SkinnyJeans.png"> <<elseif $pants is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/lowerBody/Ethan_M_LowerBody_AthleticShorts.png"> <<elseif $pants is 7>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/lowerBody/Ethan_M_LowerBody_GymShorts.png"> <<elseif $pants is 8>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/lowerBody/Ethan_M_LowerBody_PajamaPants.png"> <<elseif $pants is 9>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/lowerBody/Ethan_M_LowerBody_Trousers.png"> <</if>>  <<if $top is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_Shirt_White.png"> <<elseif $top is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_Shirt_White.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_Flannel_Medium.png"> <<elseif $top is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_TankTop.png"> <<elseif $top is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_Jacket.png"> <<elseif $top is 4>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_TankTop.png"> <<elseif $top is 5 and $pants is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_AutumnSweater.png"> <<elseif $top is 6>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_Shirt_Cat.png"> <<elseif $top is 7>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_KnittedSweater.png"> <<elseif $top is 10>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_GymShirt.png"> <<elseif $top is 11>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_PajamaTop.png"> <<elseif $top is 12>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_Shirt_White.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_Cardigan.png"> <</if>>  <<if $pants is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/lowerBody/Ethan_M_LowerBody_AutumnPants.png"> <</if>> <<if $top is 5 and $pants isnot 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/upperBody/Ethan_M_UpperBody_AutumnSweaterUT.png"> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $hairProg is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/hair/Side/Ethan_M_Hair_Side_Medium.png"> <<elseif $hairProg is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/hair/Side/Ethan_M_Hair_Side_Long.png"> <</if>>  <<if $hairStyle is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/hair/Front/Ethan_M_Hair_Front_Ponytail.png"> <<elseif $hairProg is 0 or $hairProg is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/hair/Front/Ethan_M_Hair_Front_Short.png"> <<elseif $hairProg is 2 or $hairProg is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/hair/Front/Ethan_M_Hair_Front_Loose.png"> <</if>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/face/Ethan_M_Face_Smile.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/eyebrows/Ethan_M_Eyebrows.png">  <<if $eyesProg is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/eyes/Ethan_M_Eyes_Small_DarkBrown.png"> <<elseif $eyesProg is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/eyes/Ethan_M_Eyes_Medium_DarkBrown.png"> <<elseif $eyesProg is 2 or $eyesProg is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/eyes/Ethan_M_Eyes_Large_DarkBrown.png"> <</if>>  <<if $hairtie is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/accessories/Ethan_M_Accessories_Ponytail_HairTie_1.png"> <<elseif $hairtie is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/accessories/Ethan_M_Accessories_Ponytail_HairTie_2.png"> <<elseif $hairtie is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/accessories/Ethan_M_Accessories_Ponytail_HairTie_3.png"> <<elseif $hairtie is 4>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/accessories/Ethan_M_Accessories_Ponytail_HairTie_4.png"> <</if>>  <<if $hairaccessory is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/accessories/Ethan_M_Accessories_Hairpin_Violet.png"> <<elseif $hairaccessory is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/accessories/Ethan_M_Accessories_Hairpin_White.png"> <<elseif $hairaccessory is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/male/accessories/Ethan_M_Accessories_Hairpin_Red.png"> <</if>> <<else>>  <<if $outfit is 1 and $nude is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/outfit/Ethan_F_Outfit_GanyuCosplay_Cape.png"> <<elseif $outfit is 7>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Fancy_Ribbon.png"> <</if>>  <<if $hairStyle is 0 and ($hairProg is 0 or $hairProg is 1)>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Back/Ethan_F_Hair_Back_" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "_Short.png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>> <<if $hairStyle is 0 or $hairStyle is undefined>> <<if $hairProg is 2>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Back/Ethan_F_Hair_Back_Loose_" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "_Medium.png">> <<elseif $hairProg is 3>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Back/Ethan_F_Hair_Back_Loose_" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "_Long.png">> <</if>> <<elseif $hairStyle is 1>> <<if $hairProg is 2>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Back/Ethan_F_Hair_Back_Ponytail_" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "_Medium.png">> <<elseif $hairProg is 3>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Back/Ethan_F_Hair_Back_Ponytail_" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "_Long.png">> <</if>> <</if>> <img @src = _imagePath>  <img src="img/paperdoll/female/Ethan_F_Body_Base.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/Ethan_F_Body_Head.png">  <<if $outfit isnot 1 or $nude is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/Ethan_F_Body_Feet.png"> <</if>> <<if $outfit is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Butterfly_Choker.png"> <<elseif $outfit is 5>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Spiked_Choker.png"> <<elseif $outfit is 6>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Maid_Headband.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Maid_Handcuffs.png"> <</if>>  <<if (($nude isnot 1 or ($nude is 1 and $bra is 69) or ($nude is 0 and $bind is false)) and $showbra isnot true and $outfit isnot 6 and $outfit isnot 7) and $bind is false or $nude is 2>> <<if $breastsProg is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/chest/Small/Ethan_F_Chest_Small_BaseBody.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/nipples/Ethan_F_Chest_Small_Nipples.png"> <<elseif $breastsProg is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/chest/Medium/Ethan_F_Chest_Medium_BaseBody.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/nipples/Ethan_F_Chest_Medium_Nipples.png"> <<elseif $breastsProg is 4>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/chest/Large/Ethan_F_Chest_Large_BaseBody.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/nipples/Ethan_F_Chest_Large_Nipples.png"> <<elseif $breastsProg is 5>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/chest/XL/Ethan_F_Chest_XL_BaseBody.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/nipples/Ethan_F_Chest_XL_Nipples.png"> <<elseif $breastsProg is 6>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/chest/2XL/Ethan_F_Chest_2XL_BaseBody.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/nipples/Ethan_F_Chest_2XL_Nipples.png"> <<elseif $breastsProg is 7>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/chest/3XL/Ethan_F_Chest_3XL_BaseBody.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/nipples/Ethan_F_Chest_3XL_Nipples.png"> <<else>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/chest/Flat/Ethan_F_Chest_Flat_BaseBody.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/nipples/Ethan_F_Chest_Flat_Nipples.png"> <</if>> <</if>>  <<if $hipsProg is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/hips/Ethan_F_Body_Hips_Small.png"> <<elseif $hipsProg is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/hips/Ethan_F_Body_Hips_Medium.png"> <<elseif $hipsProg is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/hips/Ethan_F_Body_Hips_Large.png"> <<else>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/hips/Ethan_F_Body_Hips_XL.png"> <</if>>  <<if $bodyhair is 0>>  <<elseif $bodyhair is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/bodyHair/Ethan_F_BaseBody_LegHair_Short.png"> <<elseif $bodyhair is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/bodyHair/Ethan_F_BaseBody_LegHair_Long.png"> <</if>> <<if $pubichair is true>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/bodyHair/Ethan_F_NSFW_PubicHair_Penis.png"> <</if>>  <<if ($nude is 2) or (($pants is 69) and ($outfit is 69))>> <<if $genitalsProg is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/genitals/Ethan_F_NSFW_Penis_Average.png"> <<elseif $genitalsProg is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/genitals/Ethan_F_NSFW_Penis_Small.png"> <<elseif $genitalsProg is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/genitals/Ethan_F_NSFW_Penis_Tiny.png"> <</if>> <<if $bind is true and $day is 7 and $top is 69>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/undergarments/upperBody/Flat/Ethan_F_Undergarments_UpperBody_Towel_Flat.png"> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $nude is 0>>  <<if $lowerUndergarment isnot 69>> <<set _undergarmentName = _lowerUndergarments[$lowerUndergarment]>> <<set _sizeLabel = _hipsSizes[$hipsProg]>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/undergarments/lowerBody/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Undergarments_LowerBody_" + _undergarmentName + "_" + _sizeLabel + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>>  <<if $shoes is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/feet/Ethan_F_Feet_Shoes_Converse.png"> <<elseif $shoes is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/feet/Ethan_F_Feet_Shoes_Cheerleader.png"> <<elseif $shoes is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/feet/Ethan_F_Feet_Shoes_Sneakers.png"> <<elseif $shoes is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/feet/Ethan_F_Feet_Shoes_BlackFlats.png"> <<elseif $shoes is 4>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/feet/Ethan_F_Feet_Shoes_WhiteFlats.png"> <<elseif $shoes is 5>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/feet/Ethan_F_Feet_Shoes_BrownFlats.png"> <<elseif $shoes is 7>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/feet/Ethan_F_Feet_Shoes_ButterflySneakers.png"> <<elseif $shoes is 8>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/feet/Ethan_F_Feet_Shoes_OrangeSneakers.png"> <<elseif $shoes is 9>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/feet/Ethan_F_Feet_Shoes_BlackGothBoots.png"> <<elseif $shoes is 10>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/feet/Ethan_F_Feet_Shoes_BlackSuitBoots.png"> <<elseif $shoes is 69>>  <</if>>  <<if $outfit isnot 69>> <<set _outfitName = _outfits[$outfit]>> <<set _sizeLabel = _hipsSizes[$hipsProg]>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/outfit/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Outfit_" + _outfitName + "_" + _sizeLabel + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <<if _outfitName is "GanyuCosplay">> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/outfit/Ethan_F_Outfit_GanyuCosplay_Outer.png"> <</if>> <</if>>  <<if $top is 27>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_BlackSuit.png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>> <<if $pants isnot 69 and $top isnot 27>> <<set _pantsName = _pants[$pants]>> <<set _sizeLabel = _hipsSizes[$hipsProg]>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/lowerBody/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_LowerBody_" + _pantsName + "_" + _sizeLabel + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>> <<set _topName = _tops[$top]>>  <<if $top is 14 or $top is 15 or $top is 16 or $top is 29 or $top is 30>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/sleeves/Ethan_F_Sleeves_" + _topName + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>>  <<if $top isnot 69>> <<if $top is 4 or $top is 5 or $top is 6 or $top is 8 or $top is 9 or $top is 16 or $top is 18 or $top is 19 or $top is 20 or $top is 24 or $top is 25 or $top is 27>> <<set _sizeFolder = "freeSize">> <<set _sizeLabel = "Freesize">> <<else>> <<set _sizeFolder = _hipsSizes[$hipsProg]>> <<set _sizeLabel = _hipsSizes[$hipsProg]>> <</if>> <<if $top isnot 14 and $top isnot 15>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/upperBody/" + _sizeFolder + "/Ethan_F_UpperBody_" + _topName + "_" + _sizeLabel + ".png">> <</if>>  <<if $top is 5>> <<if $pants is 3 or $pants is 11>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/upperBody/freeSize/Ethan_F_UpperBody_AutumnSweaterT_Freesize.png">> <<else>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/upperBody/freeSize/Ethan_F_UpperBody_AutumnSweaterUT_Freesize.png">> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $top is 9>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/upperBody/freeSize/Ethan_F_UpperBody_TankTopTrans_Freesize.png">> <<set _overlayImagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/upperBody/freeSize/Ethan_F_UpperBody_PinkSweater_Freesize.png">> <</if>> <<if $top is 1 or $top is 12 or $top is 26 or $top is 32>> <<set _underlayImagePath0 = "img/paperdoll/female/upperBody/" + _sizeFolder + "/Ethan_F_UpperBody_Shirt_" + _hipsSizes[$hipsProg] + ".png">> <img @src = _underlayImagePath0> <<if $bind is false and $breastsProg > 1>> <<set _sizeLabel = _breastSizes[$breastsProg]>> <<set _underlayImagePath1 = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Chest_" + _sizeLabel + "_Shirt.png">> <img @src= _underlayImagePath1> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $top is 32>> <<set _underlayImagePath0 = "img/paperdoll/female/upperBody/" + _sizeFolder + "/Ethan_F_UpperBody_GrayHoodie_" + _hipsSizes[$hipsProg] + ".png">> <img @src = _underlayImagePath0> <<if $bind is false and $breastsProg > 1>> <<set _sizeLabel = _breastSizes[$breastsProg]>> <<set _underlayImagePath1 = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Chest_" + _sizeLabel + "_GrayHoodie.png">> <img @src= _underlayImagePath1> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $top is 26>> <<set _underlayImagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/sleeves/Ethan_F_Sleeves_" + _topName + ".png">> <img @src = _underlayImagePath> <</if>> <<if _underlayImagePath>> <img @src=_underlayImagePath> <</if>> <img @src = _imagePath> <<if _overlayImagePath>> <img @src=_overlayImagePath> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $outfit is 7>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_White_Armlet.png"> <</if>>  <<if $bind is false and $breastsProg > 1 and $showbra isnot true and $topoff isnot true>> <<set _sizeLabel = _breastSizes[$breastsProg]>> <<if $top is 69 and $outfit isnot 69>> <<set _outfitName = _outfits[$outfit]>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Chest_" + _sizeLabel + "_" + _outfitName + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <<if $outfit is 4>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Chest_" + _sizeLabel + "_" + _outfitName + "2.png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>> <<elseif $top isnot 69 and $outfit is 69>> <<if $top isnot 29>>\ <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Chest_" + _sizeLabel + "_" + _topName + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <<elseif $breastsProg > 3>>\ <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Chest_" + _sizeLabel + "_" + _topName + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>>\ <</if>> <</if>> <<if $breastsProg < 2 or $bind is true>> <<if $top is 12>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/Flat/Ethan_F_Chest_Flat_Cardigan.png">> <<elseif $top is 14>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/Flat/Ethan_F_Chest_Flat_Symmetry.png">> <<elseif $top is 15>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/Flat/Ethan_F_Chest_Flat_CreamSweater.png">> <<elseif $top is 16>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/Flat/Ethan_F_Chest_Flat_B&WCheckeredTop.png">> <<elseif $top is 19>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/Flat/Ethan_F_Chest_Flat_WhiteHeartTop.png">> <<elseif $outfit is 4>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/Flat/Ethan_F_Chest_Flat_FancyBlackDress.png">> <<elseif $outfit is 5>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/Flat/Ethan_F_Chest_Flat_BlackGothDress.png">> <</if>> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>> <<if $top is 27>> <<set _pantsName = _pants[$pants]>> <<set _sizeLabel = _hipsSizes[$hipsProg]>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/lowerBody/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_LowerBody_" + _pantsName + "_" + _sizeLabel + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <<set _sizeLabel = _breastSizes[$breastsProg]>> <<set _overlayImagePath0 = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Chest_" + _sizeLabel + "_BlackSuitTop.png">> <img @src= _overlayImagePath0> <<set _sizeLabel = _hipsSizes[$hipsProg]>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/lowerBody/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_LowerBody_BlackSuitCoat_" + _sizeLabel + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/sleeves/Ethan_F_Sleeves_BlackSuitCoat.png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>> <<if $top is 32>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/additional/grayhood.png"> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/Ethan_F_Body_Head.png"> <</if>> <<if $top is 9 and $breastsProg > 1>> <<set _sizeLabel = _breastSizes[$breastsProg]>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/chest/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Chest_" + _sizeLabel + "_PinkSweater.png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>> <<if $outfit is 7>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_White_Gloves.png"> <</if>> <<if $showbra is true>> <<set _braName = _upperUndergarments[$bra]>> <<set _sizeLabel = _breastSizes[$breastsProg]>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/undergarments/upperBody/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Undergarments_UpperBody_" + _braName + "_" + _sizeLabel + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <<elseif $showbra is true and $bind is true>> <<if $binder is true>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/undergarments/upperBody/Flat/Ethan_F_Undergarments_UpperBody_Binder_Flat.png"> <<else>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/undergarments/upperBody/Flat/Ethan_F_Undergarments_UpperBody_Towel_Flat.png"> <</if>> <</if>> <<elseif $nude is 1>>  <<if $underwear isnot 69>> <<set _underwearName = _underwear[$underwear]>> <<set _sizeLabel = _hipsSizes[$hipsProg]>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/undergarments/underwear/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Undergarments_Underwear_" + _underwearName + "_" + _sizeLabel + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <<if $genitalsProg isnot 3>> <<set _penisSize = _penisSizes[$genitalsProg]>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/undergarments/underwear/" + _penisSize + "Penis/Ethan_F_Undergarments_Underwear_" + _underwearName + "_" + _penisSize + "Penis.png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $bra isnot 69 and $bra isnot true and $bra isnot false and $bra isnot undefined>> <<set _braName = _upperUndergarments[$bra]>> <<set _sizeLabel = _breastSizes[$breastsProg]>> <<if $breastsProg > 1>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/undergarments/upperBody/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Undergarments_UpperBody_BaseChest_" + _sizeLabel + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/undergarments/upperBody/" + _sizeLabel + "/Ethan_F_Undergarments_UpperBody_" + _braName + "_" + _sizeLabel + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <<elseif $bind is true>> <<if $binder is true>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/undergarments/upperBody/Flat/Ethan_F_Undergarments_UpperBody_Binder_Flat.png"> <<else>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/undergarments/upperBody/Flat/Ethan_F_Undergarments_UpperBody_Towel_Flat.png"> <</if>> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $faceAccessory is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Heart_Sticker.png"> <<elseif $faceAccessory is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Star_Sticker.png"> <</if>>  <<if $hairStyle is 0 and ($hairProg is 0 or $hairProg is 1)>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Front/Ethan_F_Hair_Front_Short_" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>> <<if $hairProg is 2>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Side/Ethan_F_Hair_Side_" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "_Medium.png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <<elseif $hairProg is 3>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Side/Ethan_F_Hair_Side_" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "_Long.png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>>  <<if $hairStyle is 1>> <<if $hairtie is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Ponytail_HairTie_1.png"> <<elseif $hairtie is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Ponytail_HairTie_2.png"> <<elseif $hairtie is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Ponytail_HairTie_3.png"> <<elseif $hairtie is 4>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Ponytail_HairTie_4.png"> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $hairStyle is 3>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Ethan_F_Hair_Back_Braided_Single.png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <<elseif $hairStyle is 4>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Ethan_F_Hair_Back_Braided_Double.png">> <img @src = _imagePath> <</if>>  <<if $hairStyle is 1>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Front/Ethan_F_Hair_Front_Ponytail_" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + ".png">> <<elseif $hairStyle is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/hair/Ethan_F_Hair_Ganyu.png"> <<elseif $hairStyle is 3 or $hairStyle is 4>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Ethan_F_Hair_Base_Braided.png">> <<elseif $hairStyle is 5>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Ethan_F_Hair_Buns.png">> <<else>> <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/hair/" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + "/Front/Ethan_F_Hair_Front_Loose_" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + ".png">> <</if>> <img @src = _imagePath>  <<if $expression is 0 or $expression is undefined>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/face/Ethan_F_Face_Expression0.png"> <<elseif $expression is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/face/Ethan_F_Face_Expression1.png"> <<elseif $expression is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/face/Ethan_F_Face_Expression2.png"> <<elseif $expression is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/face/Ethan_F_Face_Expression3.png"> <<elseif $expression is 4>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/face/Ethan_F_Face_Expression4.png"> <</if>>  <<set _imagePath = "img/paperdoll/female/eyebrows/Ethan_F_Eyebrows_" + _hairColors[$hairColor] + ".png">> <img @src = _imagePath>  <<if $outfit is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Ethan_F_Eyes_Ganyu.png"> <<else>> <<if $eyesProg is 0>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Ethan_F_Eyes_Small.png"> <<elseif $eyesProg is 1>> <<if $eyeColor is 0 or $eyeColor is undefined>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_DarkBrown.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_LightBrown.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_Blue.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_DarkPurple.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 4>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_LightPurple.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 5>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_Gold.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 6>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_Gray.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 7>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_Green.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 8>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_Red.png"> <</if>> <<elseif $eyesProg is 2 or $eyesProg is 3>> <<if $eyeColor is 0 or $eyeColor is undefined>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_DarkBrown.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_LightBrown.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_Blue.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_DarkPurple.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 4>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_LightPurple.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 5>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_Gold.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 6>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_Gray.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 7>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_Green.png"> <<elseif $eyeColor is 8>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/eyes/Large/Ethan_F_Eyes_Large_Red.png"> <</if>> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $glasses is true>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Glasses.png"> <</if>>  <<if $hairaccessory is 1>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Hairpin_Violet.png"> <<elseif $hairaccessory is 2>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Hairpin_White.png"> <<elseif $hairaccessory is 3>> <img src="img/paperdoll/female/accessories/Ethan_F_Accessories_Hairpin_Red.png"> <</if>> <</if>> </div> <</widget>>

<<set $temp1 to true>>\ @@.samantha;"I guess it's not a festival without a Ferris wheel, right?"@@ Samantha smirks, shoving her hands into her pockets as the three of you inch forward in the long, winding line. The Ferris wheel is, unsurprisingly, the most popular attraction at the festival, its pastel-colored gondolas rotating lazily against the sky. The wait is long, but after what feels like forever, you finally reach the front of the line. A ride operator gestures for you to step forward, and you and your friends file into the capsule. The door clicks shut behind you, locking the three of you inside the small glass-enclosed space. @@.player;"Let's go!"@@ you exclaim, pumping your fist into the air. @@.samantha;"Someone's excited,"@@ Samantha remarks, raising an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"But yeah, I think it'll be fun. Well... as fun as a Ferris wheel //can// be."@@ Luke grins. @@.luke;"Hey, sometimes simple things are the best."@@ The ride jerks slightly as it starts moving, lifting you all into the sky with a steady rhythm. The sounds of the festival—laughter, game booths, the distant hum of music—grow quieter as the capsule rises above the ground. The higher you go, the more the festival spreads out below you in a dazzling display of glowing lights and autumn colors. Beyond the fairgrounds, Crestview Bay stretches out in the distance, bathed in sunlight. By the time you reach the peak, the view is breathtaking. Samantha leans against the glass, peering down at the scenery. @@.samantha;"Okay, I've got to admit it. This is pretty cool."@@ You nod, taking it all in. From up here, the festival looks almost surreal—tiny figures moving between booths, the racetrack and archery range barely visible from this height. The entire town feels so small from this perspective, like you could reach out and touch the rooftops below. Luke exhales, his eyes lingering on the sight before him. @@.luke;"It's a shame this is all going to end soon."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask, glancing at him. He shakes his head. @@.luke;"After this year, we're all gonna go off to college or something. No matter what we do, we'll start drifting apart."@@ @@.samantha;"Jesus, Luke,"@@ Samantha says, scoffing. @@.samantha;"You're acting like we're all about to //die// or something."@@ Luke lets out a quiet laugh, but the usual brightness in his expression is muted. @@.luke;"I just mean... it won't be the same, you know? We've been friends for years, but once life pulls us in different directions..."@@ He trails off, his gaze lowering to the festival below. Silence settles over the capsule, the weight of his words sinking in. You don't want to admit it, but he's probably right. You, Luke, and Samantha have been inseparable for so long—years of inside jokes, late-night study sessions, and lazy weekends filled with movies and pizza. People do drift apart, no matter how much they promise to keep in touch. It's just... life. The Ferris wheel begins its slow descent, bringing you back down toward reality. You shake your head and force a smile. @@.player;"Hey, come on. We'll figure it out. I mean, we're not just gonna stop being friends overnight."@@ @@.samantha;"I hope so,"@@ Samantha murmurs, biting her lip as she looks out the window again. A minute later, the capsule reaches the bottom, and the door unlocks with a soft click. You and your friends step out, back into the warmth and noise of the festival. You take a deep breath, pushing away the lingering weight of the conversation. Today is supposed to be a happy day. <<button "Choose where to go next" "Festival Choice">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> @@.samantha;"Where should we go next?"@@ Samantha asks. <<if $temp is false>>\ <<button "Go to the Tunnel of Love" "Tunnel of Love">><<trackChoice "festival_activity" "Tunnel of Love" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp1 is false>>\ <<button "Go to the Ferris wheel" "Ferris Wheel">><<trackChoice "festival_activity" "Ferris Wheel" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp2 is false>>\ <<button "Go to the photo booth" "Photo Booth">><<trackChoice "festival_activity" "Photo Booth" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp is true and $temp1 is true and $temp2 is true>>\ <<button "Continue hanging out with your friends" "Intro 7">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> <<if window.matchMedia("(min-width: 800px)").matches>>\ <<run toggleSidebar()>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $textbox to true>>\ <<set $day to 1>>\ <<grantAchievement "MeetLuke">>\ The morning sun filters through the amber leaves as you step outside, the familiar creak of the front door fading behind you. You grab the strap of your backpack with one hand and smooth out your shirt with the other. The air carries the bite that only autumn really has, cool enough to remind you that summer is over. You breathe in, catching the earthy smell of dry leaves scattered on the ground. The neighborhood is quiet, other than the soft rustle of branches when the wind blows. The colors in the trees remind you just how quickly time moves. It's the first day of school, something you've done plenty of times before in your eighteen years of living, but this one feels different. It's senior year. The last chapter of high school. The thought sends a buzz of excitement through you, mixed with a nervous knot in your stomach that you can't quite shake. Your shoes tap a steady rhythm on the pavement as you walk. Your mind drifts to everything this year will hold. The last first day, the last set of classes, the last stupid school event. It's a bittersweet thought. Suddenly, the quiet is broken by a loud and familiar voice. @@.luke;"Wait up, <<textbox "$name" "Ethan">>!"@@ You turn just in time to see Luke jogging toward you. His curls are a ''mess'' and his cheeks are flushed like he ran the whole way without thinking twice. There's that same wide, easy grin he //always// wears—like the world's never given him a reason not to. He slings an arm over your shoulder without missing a beat, almost as if this day wouldn't make sense if he didn't. @@.luke;"Ready for the first day of school?"@@ he asks. <<set $lukeMeetingCG to true>>\ <<include "CG_LukeMeeting">>\ <div class="note">\ <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ You can click on the arrow below the game's title in the header to access your stats, relationships, and appearance. </div>\ <<button "Of course" "Intro 2">>\<<set $temp to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Not really" "Intro 2">>\<<set $temp to false>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-livingroomn.png"> <<set $femineChanges += 1>>\ <<set $eyesProg = 1>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to Math.clamp($feminineLooks + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "GetCursed">>\ @@.samantha;"Earth to $name."@@ Samantha's voice cuts through the haze in your mind, pulling you out of the darkness. Your head throbs and your limbs feel heavy. A groan escapes your lips as you try to piece together what's happening. The last thing you remember is Madame Serena, her piercing gaze, the way her voice wrapped around your thoughts like a lingering echo. The memory sends a shiver down your spine. Your eyes flutter open, and the blurred shapes hovering above you sharpen into familiar faces—Samantha, Luke, your mom, and your little sister, Lily, all watching you with varying degrees of concern. The warm glow of your living room lamp replaces the flickering candlelight of the fortune teller's tent. You're not at the festival anymore. You're on the couch in your own home. @@.lily;"You good, $name?"@@ Lily asks, tilting her head as she pokes your arm, her usual smirk missing for once. There's an uncharacteristic softness in her voice, almost like she's actually worried about you. Then, just as quickly, she ruins it. @@.lily;"You //better// be okay! I don't wanna go to your funeral and have to stare at your ugly photo all day!"@@ There it is. The ''real'' Lily. @@.girl;"Come on, Lily, be nice,"@@ your mom sighs, rubbing her temples. She looks exhausted, like she's been worrying for hours. @@.girl;"I was terrified when I got a call from your friends saying you passed out at the festival. What happened?"@@ You sit up slowly, still feeling lightheaded, your mind scrambling to put the pieces together. The tent. Madame Serena. The tarot cards. You remember the way her voice dropped, the strange weight that pulled at you, and then... nothing. @@.player;"I swear, she said something weird,"@@ you murmur, your voice still groggy. @@.player;"I—I think she cursed me or something."@@ Luke frowns, exchanging a quick glance with Samantha before shaking his head. @@.luke;"Dude... we went back into the tent after you didn't come out."@@ His voice drops slightly like he's still trying to process it himself. @@.luke;"It was empty."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean, empty?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.samantha;"The whole setup was gone,"@@ Samantha clarifies, crossing her arms. @@.samantha;"There was a tent, but inside? No table, no candles, no seer. Just... nothing. Like no one had been in there at all."@@ That doesn't make any sense. You were just in there, sitting across from her, watching her flip those cursed tarot cards. It was real. It had to be real. @@.player;"No, wait, I have proof!"@@ Panic surges through you as you scramble for your phone, flipping to your camera roll. If you really recorded everything, then— You stop. The screen stares back at you, perfectly normal. The last image in your Photos app is from earlier—a copy of the photo booth pictures with Luke and Samantha that you captured. No recording. No video. No proof. Your stomach drops. @@.player;"What?"@@ you whisper, scrolling frantically, fingers swiping through your gallery in desperation. But there's nothing. No footage of Madame Serena, no trace of the tarot reading, nothing but the festival photos you remember taking before any of this happened. Lily snickers from beside you, shaking her head. @@.lily;"Yep. He's lost it."@@ She leans over and gives you a light punch on the arm, grinning. @@.lily;"Welcome back to reality."@@ Your mom sighs, stepping closer. @@.girl;"Alright, let's get you to your room."@@ She gently grasps your arm and helps you off the couch, her touch firm but careful. Then she turns to Luke and Samantha, offering them a tired but grateful look. @@.girl;"Thank you for calling me and making sure he got home. I'll take it from here."@@ Samantha stretches her arms above her head, stifling a yawn. @@.samantha;"No problem, Mrs. Yoon. See you at school tomorrow, $name. Try not to pass out again, yeah?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, man. Hope you're okay,"@@ Luke adds, giving you a reassuring nod before heading toward the door. You barely register their goodbyes, still staring blankly at your phone, trying to wrap your head around what just happened. The tent was empty. The recording is gone. And yet, you can't shake the lingering feeling that something has changed. <<button "Go to your room" "Intro 11">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> @@.girl;"Here we are, $name,"@@ your mom says as she guides you into your room. @@.girl;"Are you sure you're going to be alright?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine,"@@ you mumble, barely looking at her as you make a beeline for your computer. Your mind is buzzing with too many questions, too much unease to even think about sleeping. @@.player;"Seriously, Mom, I'm fine."@@ She hesitates for a moment, watching you with that motherly concern she always has when something seems off. But after a second, she sighs and gives you a gentle pat on the head. @@.girl;"Okay then, sweetie. Try to get some rest."@@ With that, she steps out, quietly closing the door behind her. As soon as she's gone, you drop into your chair, pressing the power button on your computer. The screen flickers to life, and you lean back, tapping your foot impatiently as it boots up. Your thoughts swirl. What the hell had happened today? You could try to shake it off—focus on something normal, like studying. You were already taking some tough classes, and getting ahead wouldn't hurt. But... your gaze flickers toward your phone, still sitting on your desk. The missing recording. The empty tent. You rub your chin, considering another option. Maybe you should look up Madame Serena. If she's been at the festival before, surely there's something online about her. A website, a review, even some urban legend nonsense. You exhale, fingers hovering over the keyboard. So—what do you do? <<button "Study for tomorrow" "Intro 12">>\<<set $d1Time to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Research Madame Serena" "Intro 12">>\<<set $d1Time to false>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<if $d1Time is true>>\ <<set $study to Math.clamp($study + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Whatever happened with Madame Serena in that tent was //weird//, but at the end of the day, school still had to be your priority. No matter how unsettling it had been, no matter how much you wanted answers, none of it was gonna help you pass your classes. Pushing those thoughts aside, you turned to your notes and textbooks. You weren't the worst student, but you weren't exactly excelling. A consistent C student, just stalking by, always telling yourself you'd do better next time. And yet, a small part of you wanted to try. You weren't dumb. You //could// get into a good university, have an easier future, be set for life. But the issue was always the same—''time''. Between school, friends, distractions, and now... whatever the hell this was, how were you supposed to find time to actually study? Your mind drifts back to Madame Serena. The missing recording. The empty tent. That creeping sense of unease that still hadn't quite left you. You shake your head, forcing yourself to refocus. No. Not now. Hours pass as you grind through problem sets, reread passages, and try to make sense of concepts that always seem out of reach. Eventually, exhaustion starts to creep in. You stretch your arms above your head, letting out a long, groggy groan. That's enough for today. Classes hadn't even officially started yet—you weren't about to waste //that// much energy studying material that might not even show up. Leaning back in your chair, you glance at the clock. It's late. Maybe now you can finally relax. <<else>>\ You pull up Google and type in the name: Madame Serena fortune teller Crestview Bay Autumn Festival. The results are underwhelming. There's no official website, no social media presence—just a handful of blog posts from festival-goers recounting their experiences. You click through them, scanning for anything unusual. The posts are all overwhelmingly positive. "A fun experience! Madame Serena gave me a great fortune—she predicted I'd land my dream job, and two years later, I did!" "She told me to trust myself, and honestly? Best advice I ever got. Would definitely recommend getting a reading if she's there next year." "Creepy but cool! Her tent has such a vibe, 10/10." You groan. Nobody else mentions anything weird happening. No talk of passing out, no strange feeling, no vanishing recordings—nothing that even remotely resembles what happened to you. For the next few hours, you dig deeper, searching for anything more obscure—old mentions of her name, discussions on niche forums, local news articles—but there's nothing substantial. Eventually, you sigh and lean back in your chair, rubbing your eyes. It's no use. You've hit a dead end. You jot down a mental memo—you'll go back to the Autumn Festival and try to get some information from the people running it. Someone has to know who she is and how to contact her. For now, though, you shut down your computer, pushing the unsettling thoughts to the back of your mind. <</if>>\ <<button "Get ready for bed" "Intro 13">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ You step into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a quiet click. You flip the light switch, letting brightness flood the small space. But, for whatever reason, something feels... off. It's not physical discomfort. It's something subtle, a strange awareness that tugs at the edges of your mind. You can't quite put your finger on it, but the feeling lingers, refusing to be ignored. You ignore it and splash cold water on your face, letting the chill shock you back into clarity. Droplets cling to your skin as you straighten up and glance at yourself in the mirror. Your stomach clenches. At first glance, everything looks normal—same face, same messy black hair, same tired eyes staring back at you. But as you lean in, tilting your head slightly, unease creeps up your spine. Something is different. You scan your reflection carefully, eyes darting across every familiar feature. Your nose, your jawline, the slight bags under your eyes—nothing has changed. And yet, something feels off. Then, it clicks. Your eyes. They're... bigger. Rounder. It's not a huge change, nothing dramatic or obvious, but it's enough for you to see it. Your eyes have always been sharp, a little narrow, but now they seem softer—more open, almost like they belong to someone else. Your breath hitches as your mind flashes back to Madame Serena's words. @@.serena;"To see yourself fully, you must first experience the other side of that reflection."@@ You grip the edge of your sink, fingers pressing into the cold porcelain as your pulse quickens. No. This is ridiculous. Maybe you're just tired. Maybe it's the lighting. Maybe—//maybe//—you're just imagining things because of that stupid reading. Shaking off the unease, you strip out of your clothes and step into the shower, letting the hot water rush over you. As the steam fills the small space, you take a slow breath and try to ground yourself. You need to stop letting this mess with your head. Still, as the water runs down your body, you find yourself inspecting everything. Your arms, your torso, your legs—everything is the same. No sudden curves, no changes in height, and, most importantly, nothing missing or altered where it //really// counts. You exhale, somewhat reassured. Maybe you really are overthinking this. After rinsing off, you step out of the shower and grab a towel, drying yourself off before moving to the sink again. Your reflection is still waiting for you, but this time, you force yourself to ignore it as you go through your usual routine. Once you're done, you pull on your pajamas—soft plaid pants and an oversized long-sleeved shirt. Comfortable and familiar. Something to help you feel normal again. And yet, as you crawl into bed and stare at the ceiling, your mind refuses to settle. No matter how much you try and brush it off, the image of your slightly altered reflection lingers in your thoughts. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just exhaustion. But the thought lingers. And as sleep finally pulls you under, one last question echoes in the back of your mind. What if this is just the beginning? <<button "Fall asleep" "Day 2 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-exterior.png"> <<nobr>> <<set $textbox to false>> <<if $name is "Ethan">> <<notify>>The default is the best!<</notify>> <<elseif $name is "Zach" or $name is "Zachary">> <<notify>>Is that a fucking re:Dreamer reference?!<</notify>> <<elseif $name is "Lucas">> <<notify>>Are we in Thread Creek or Crestview Bay?<</notify>> <<elseif $name is "Meerkat">> <<notify>>Hello Meerkats!<</notify>> <<elseif $name is "Luke">> <<notify>>Dude, you wish you could be me!<</notify>> <<elseif $name is "Vincent">> <<notify>>Uhh... I mean, I guess I should be flattered?<</notify>> <<elseif $name is "Jordan">> <<notify>>Choose another name.<</notify>> <<timed 3s>> <<goto "Intro 1">> <</timed>> <</if>> <<grantAchievement "MeetSamantha">> <</nobr>>\ <<if $name is "sans">>\ <div class="text-box">\ <img class="speaker-img" src="img/additional/sans.png" alt="Sans">\ <p class="dialog">why am i in this game?</p>\ </div>\ <</if>>\ The warm hum of morning chatter fills the air as you and Luke stroll toward Pacific Crest High School. The campus was already buzzing with life, and the golden sunlight paints everything in a soft glow, signaling the start of your senior year. <<if $temp is true>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, of course,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I mean, it's not going to be easy, but I'm prepared."@@ <<set $study += 1>> @@.luke;"Of course you are,"@@ Luke says, chuckling. @@.luke;"Me though, I'm only looking forward toward the start of the football season."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Do you seriously think I would be ready?"@@ you ask, smirking. @@.player;"I would do anything for even an extra day of vacation."@@ @@.luke;"Glad to see we're on the same page,"@@ Luke says, chuckling. @@.luke;"I'm only looking forward to the start of the football season."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"I mean, that //is// all that you care about,"@@ you say, laughing along. @@.luke;"Hey, it's not //just// football,"@@ he protests, pretending to be hurt by your words. @@.luke;"There's also video games and... well, girls."@@ @@.player;"Right, because those are //such// great priorities to have,"@@ you shoot back, laughing. Luke acts offended, clapping his hands to his chest dramatically. @@.luke;"How dare you, $name. Football, video games, and girls are all equally important."@@ You raise an eyebrow, smirking. @@.player;"Equally important, huh?"@@ Luke puffs out his chest, grinning. @@.luke;"As they say, all's fair in love and war and gaming. Right?"@@ @@.player;"Yup, on point,"@@ you say, barely able to hide your disbelief at how badly Luke butchered a famous quote. You both chuckle as you make your way toward the school entrance, the familiar campus grounds come into view. This was it—the final year before you both moved on to university. You hope it won't be as grueling as last year was. Junior year had been a grind; just thinking about physics sent a shiver down your spine. Suddenly, you feel a small, familiar hand on your arm. Turning, you see Samantha—confident and cool as always. Her loose black hair is hidden under her beanie, and her striking green eyes gleam with amusement. She wears a playful smile, one eyebrow raised as if she could see right through you. @@.samantha;"You okay, $name?"@@ Samantha's voice was teasing but gentle. @@.samantha;"You just shivered like you saw a ghost or something."@@ <<set $samanthaMeetingCG to true>>\ <<include "CG_SamanthaMeeting">>\ <<button "Give a sarcastic answer" "Intro 3">>\<<set $temp to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Give a genuine answer" "Intro 3">>\<<set $temp to false>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-exterior.png"> <<if $temp is true>>\ <<set $sarcastic to Math.clamp($sarcastic + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $genuine to Math.clamp($genuine - 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"You won't believe what I just saw—a horrifying monster,"@@ you announce, struggling to keep a straight face. Samantha gives you a skeptical look, arms crossed over her chest. @@.samantha;"Oh yeah? What kind of monster, huh?"@@ You hum thoughtfully, drawing out the suspense. @@.player;"Let's see here. She was about average height and had tan skin and wavy black hair. Oh, and she was wearing a black T-shirt with an anime girl pointing up at the sky."@@ Samantha's eyes narrow as she listens. Then, as if on cue, she glances down at her own outfit—a black T-shirt with an anime girl. A beat of silence. Then, her expression shifts from confusion to realization. @@.samantha;"Oh, fuck off,"@@ she groans, rolling her eyes before jabbing you in the ribs with her elbow. @@.samantha;"You're talking about //me//, aren't you?"@@ You let out a laugh, finally unable to contain yourself. @@.samantha;"For your information,"@@ she continues. @@.samantha;"I am not horrifying. I am a goddamn delight."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $sarcastic to Math.clamp($sarcastic - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $genuine to Math.clamp($genuine + 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'm good, I just had a flashback to physics last year,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It was //that// bad. Honestly, I think it traumatized me."@@ Samantha groans dramatically, rubbing her temples as if just thinking about it gave her a headache. @@.samantha;"Oh God, Mr. Trent and his bullshit. Like, yeah, sure, let me just casually understand quantum mechanics while you scribble an equation on the board. The worst part is when he stared at us like ''we'' were the problem."@@ You nod solemnly. @@.player;"The way he would pause after explaining something, like he was waiting for us to be enlightened? The man had more faith in us than he should have."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, don't forget the tests,"@@ Samantha adds, her voice dripping with exasperation. @@.samantha;"We'd spend weeks on momentum, but then—boom—half the test is on circuits. Like, how the hell were we supposed to know?"@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"The real horror story isn't ghosts or monsters—it's walking into a class and realizing you forgot there was a quiz."@@ Samantha clutches her chest dramatically. @@.samantha;"Stop, I can still feel that panic."@@ <</if>>\ Luke cuts in, his voice carrying a casual excitement. @@.luke;"Anyway, I wanted to suggest something."@@ He shifts his backpack higher onto his shoulder and picks up the pace slightly, stepping ahead of you and Samantha before turning to face you both, walking backward with an easy grin. @@.luke;"We should hit up the local Autumn Festival after school today,"@@ he says, his hands slipping into the pockets of his hoodie. @@.luke;"You know, start the year off right. Food stalls, games, rides. It'll be fun."@@ You hesitate for a moment, shifting the strap of your bag on your shoulder, then glance at Samantha. She's already looking at you, amusement flickering in her green eyes. A slow, knowing smile spreads across her lips, and she tilts her head just slightly. @@.samantha;"Sounds like a good idea, doesn't it, $name?"@@ There's something in her tone that suggests she already knows your answer. <<button "Hell yeah!" "Intro 4">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> Since today is only the first day of school, there aren't any actual classes yet. Instead, the morning is filled with dull introductions—teachers droning on about senior year expectations, college applications, and the usual warnings about keeping up with coursework. It's all very boring, and by the time the equivalent of two class periods have passed, you're more than ready for a break. When the lunch bell finally rings, you and your two closest friends make your way to the cafeteria. The air is filled with the familiar hum of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter echoing from different tables. The three of you claim your usual spot, trays of cafeteria food set in front of you. @@.player;"So, what's the deal with that carnival thing? Or festival, or whatever it is,"@@ you ask after swallowing a bite of food. @@.luke;"Here, take a look,"@@ Luke says, pulling out his phone. He holds it up in front of your face, the screen glowing with a website. You take the phone from his hand and tilt it toward Samantha so the two of you can scan the details together. The website is simple but colorful, advertising an event called the //Crestview Bay Autumn Festival//. There's a list of attractions—classic fairgrounds, a food stall lineup, and a photo booth. At the bottom, a section labeled ''Special Attractions'' catches your eye. @@.samantha;"A seer?"@@ Samantha reads aloud, frowning as she peers over your shoulder. Her gaze flickers to the small, grainy image on the screen of a striking woman in her forties with piercing violet eyes, seated behind a crystal ball. @@.samantha;"What, is she gonna tell us our fortunes or something?"@@ @@.player;"Who knows?"@@ you say with a shrug. @@.player;"Maybe she'll give us a glimpse into our futures."@@ @@.luke;"Obviously, I'm going to be a rich football star,"@@ Luke says confidently, grinning as he holds out his hand. @@.luke;"Now, if you two are done, I'd like my phone back. Can't have you two snooping through my unlocked phone for too long."@@ @@.samantha;"Hmm?"@@ Samantha's expression shifts into something far more mischievous. Before Luke can react, she swipes the phone out of his hand with a triumphant smirk. @@.samantha;"You want to take a peek, $name?"@@ <<button "Take a look" "Intro 5">>\<<set $temp to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Respect his privacy" "Intro 5">>\<<set $temp to false>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> <<if $temp is true>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Go on, look fast,"@@ you say, grinning as you brace yourself against the cafeteria table, using one arm to fend off Luke. He's lunging at Samantha, his hands swiping wildly through the air, but she's far too quick, holding his phone just out of reach. @@.player;"Let's see what kind of juicy secrets he's hiding,"@@ you add, your grin widening as you glance at Samantha. @@.luke;"Hey, give me my phone back!"@@ Luke barks, his voice a mix of panic and frustration. He tries to snatch it again, but Samantha twists her body, keeping it just beyond his grasp. @@.samantha;"Hold your horses, I want to see what all the fuss is about,"@@ she says, tapping rapidly at the screen. @@.samantha;"Let's see what we have here..."@@ Luke's face is frozen in apprehension, his eyes darting between you and Samantha. You can just tell he's mentally running through every questionable thing on his phone, probably regretting ever pulling it out in the first place. Then, after a few moments of scrolling, Samantha lets out a dramatic gasp, her eyes going wide. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, Luke,"@@ she says, her voice dripping with mock scandal. Luke's expression instantly shifts to sheer panic. @@.luke;"What? What is it?!"@@ Samantha turns the phone toward you, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing. @@.samantha;"A 10-gigabyte porn folder on his Google Drive,"@@ she announces, her tone somewhere between amusement and disbelief. @@.samantha;"Completely filled to the brim with Japanese adult videos. Oh my, can you believe it?"@@ Luke's entire face turns an alarming shade of red. @@.luke;"They take a long time to load, so I downloaded them!"@@ he blurts out, waving his arms as if trying to physically swat the embarrassment away. You burst out laughing, doubling over slightly as Samantha shakes her head in feigned disappointment. @@.player;"That's... so much porn, Luke,"@@ you wheeze between laughs. @@.samantha;"How do you even have that much space?"@@ Samantha adds, scrolling a little further. @@.samantha;"That's like... several USB sticks worth of porn just sitting in the cloud."@@ Luke groans, burying his face in his hands. @@.luke;"Can we //not// talk about this?"@@ Samantha hums thoughtfully, still scrolling. @@.samantha;"Well, at least the content's pretty vanilla,"@@ she says, letting out a loud sigh. @@.samantha;"No weird kinks, no cursed tags. Nothing too exciting, sadly. Kind of a letdown, honestly."@@ She pins the phone in her hand before tossing it back to him. Luke snatches it mid-air, glaring. @@.luke;"You guys are the worst."@@ @@.player;"You love us,"@@ you say, grinning as you nudge him with your elbow. @@.luke;"Yeah, yeah,"@@ he grumbles, shoving his phone deep into his pocket like it might erase the last few minutes of his life. He exhales before shifting the conversation to safer ground. @@.luke;"Anyway, are we going to the Autumn Festival or what?"@@ You glance at Samantha who meets your gaze. @@.samantha;"Eh, why not?"@@ she says, shrugging. You shrug back. @@.player;"Yeah, it could be fun."@@ Luke leans back, seeming relieved that the topic has finally moved on. @@.luke;"Great. Then it's settled."@@ Samantha grins. @@.samantha;"Hey, who knows? Maybe the fortune teller will predict your very bright future in the adult film industry."@@ Luke groans loudly as you and Samantha dissolve into laughter once again. <<else>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'll be honest, I'm really tempted to,"@@ you admit, eyeing the phone still in Samantha's grasp. The screen is right there, a treasure trove of things you can blackmail Luke with—but after a brief internal battle, you decide to take the high road. @@.player;"But we should respect Luke's privacy."@@ With a reluctant sigh, you reach over and gently take the phone from Samantha before things can escalate. Samantha groans and dramatically tilts her head back. @@.samantha;"Aww, fine,"@@ she whines, crossing her arms. @@.samantha;"I guess that's the right thing to do."@@ Luke lets out a sharp exhale, fixing you both with a deadpan stare. @@.luke;"Yeah, so—give me my phone back before you two get any more ideas."@@ Samantha eyes the phone one last time before you hand it over, but not without shaking her head in disapproval. @@.samantha;"What a waste of potential,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"I was hoping for something spicy. A scandal, a secret, something."@@ Luke snatches his phone like it's a priceless artifact, shoving it deep into his pocket. @@.luke;"You guys are not invading my privacy, thanks."@@ Samantha just flashes him a smug grin. @@.samantha;"Oh well. Maybe next time."@@ @@.luke;"There won't be a next time."@@ Before Samantha can poke at him any further, Luke shakes his head and changes the subject. @@.luke;"Anyway,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Are we going to the Autumn Festival or not?"@@ You glance at Samantha who meets your eyes with a relaxed shrug. @@.samantha;"Eh, why not?"@@ she says. You mirror the gesture. @@.player;"Yeah, sure. Could be fun, I guess."@@ @@.luke;"Great,"@@ Luke says, stretching his arms behind his head. @@.luke;"Then it's settled."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Let's go!" "Intro 6">><<trackChoice "attend_festival" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Change your mind and decide not to go" "Bad Ending 1">><<trackChoice "attend_festival" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> <<set $money -= 20>>\ <<grantAchievement "AutumnFestival">>\ The second half of the school day passes by quickly, and the instant the final bell rings, you can't wait to get to the Autumn Festival with your two best friends. You meet up outside the school, where students are dispersing—some climbing into their cars, others waiting for their rides. @@.luke;"Alright, just follow me,"@@ Luke says, eyes fixed on his phone as he pulls up the directions. Samantha crosses her arms and lets out a dramatic sigh as she watches a few students drive off. @@.samantha;"Man, what are the chances that none of us have a car? It would be really nice if we didn't have to walk everywhere."@@ Luke raises an eyebrow. @@.luke;"Well, maybe if //someone// actually got their license instead of putting it off, we wouldn't be in this situation."@@ Samantha shoots him an unimpressed look. @@.samantha;"Even if I had my license, I still wouldn't have a car. So really, nothing would've changed."@@ Luke huffs. @@.luke;"Well, you could be driving us around in someone else's car."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, I could,"@@ Samantha says, pretending to think about it. @@.samantha;"But that sounds like a lot of responsibility. So no thanks."@@ You chuckle as the three of you begin walking. The crisp autumn air carries the scent of fallen leaves and the faint sound of carnival music drifts toward you as you get closer. A large purple banner with white lettering stretches over the entrance, swaying slightly in the breeze: ''CRESTVIEW BAY AUTUMN FESTIVAL'' Beyond the entrance, the festival is alive with movement. The scents of fried dough, kettle corn, and caramel apples fills the air, mingling with the cheerful sounds of chatter and distant laughter. A massive Ferris wheel dominates the skyline, its gondolas rotating against the blue sky. Near the entrance, a small wooden stand houses a photo booth. Further down, a curtained-off attraction labeled ''Tunnel of Love'' sits nestled between other festival attractions, its entrance framed by a glowing arch of pink lights. The three of you step forward and hand over twenty dollars each, receiving wristbands in exchange. The good news is that once you're inside, all the rides are free. Samantha takes a deep breath and looks around with an impressed nod. @@.samantha;"This is actually really nice. It's way better than I expected."@@ @@.luke;"Where should we start?"@@ Luke asks, scanning the area. You glance around at the different attractions before turning to Luke. @@.player;"Aren't you the one who planned this whole thing out? What are our options?"@@ Luke furrows his brow, taking a few moments to think before speaking. @@.luke;"Well, there's the Tunnel of Love, which is meant for couples and all that jazz. Then there's the Ferris wheel, obviously."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, wow, I totally didn't notice,"@@ Samantha says, pointing up at the massive Ferris wheel towering over the entire festival. @@.samantha;"That gigantic thing in the middle of everything? How could I possibly have seen that?"@@ Luke shoots her an unamused look. @@.luke;"Okay, okay, geez. I was just listing things."@@ He gestures toward the entrance. @@.luke;"There's also a photo booth over there if you guys want to take pictures."@@ Samantha tilts her head, considering the options. @@.samantha;"I've got to admit, those are all pretty solid choices. But the question is, where do we go first?"@@ Samantha and Luke gaze at you expectantly, waiting for your answer as the lively festival buzzes around you. <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ <<button "Go to the Tunnel of Love" "Tunnel of Love">><<trackChoice "festival_activity" "Tunnel of Love" "story">><</button>> <<button "Go to the Ferris Wheel" "Ferris Wheel">><<trackChoice "festival_activity" "Ferris Wheel" "story">><</button>> <<button "Go to the photo booth" "Photo Booth">><<trackChoice "festival_activity" "Photo Booth" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> The three of you spend a few hours roaming the festival, stopping by various attractions along the way. From pumpkin carving to craft stations, there's no shortage of small activities to enjoy. The games are lighthearted, the food is delicious, and the atmosphere is lively. But after a while, as the festival starts to wind down and the crowd begins to thin, you realize there's not much left to do. Samantha stretches, looking around. @@.samantha;"Are we done now?"@@ she asks, her voice carrying a slight edge of boredom. @@.samantha;"I feel like we've hit everything—photo booth, Ferris wheel, pumpkin bowling..."@@ She trails off, scanning the fairgrounds as if something new might magically appear. Luke frowns, pulling out his phone. @@.luke;"Let me read the website, just to make sure we didn't miss anything."@@ He scrolls for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he looks up. @@.luke;"There's one thing left—we can visit the seer."@@ Samantha lets out a loud laugh. @@.samantha;"Ohh, is that what the creepy tent in the distance is for?"@@ She gestures toward the large, purple tent standing at the edge of the festival grounds, its fabric rippling slightly in the breeze. The entrance is draped in heavy velvet curtains, a faint glow from inside casting eerie shadows against the fabric. @@.samantha;"What's she gonna do? Tell us we're a Scorpio and that the moons and stars say someone close to us will die?"@@ @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you chuckle. You've never really believed in that kind of thing—the supernatural, fortune tellers, all of it. But at this point, you've already paid for the festival, so why not check it out? @@.player;"Let's just go. We've got nothing to lose."@@ Luke pockets his phone. @@.luke;"Yeah, let's do it."@@ The three of you make your way to the seer's tent, the noise of the festival fading as you approach. Unlike the other attractions, there's no line—no excited chatter, no bustling crowd, just the quiet rustling of the tent's entrance shifting with the wind. It seems that most festival-goers didn't find the idea of a fortune-telling session all that appealing. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ Samantha says, stopping just outside the entrance. @@.samantha;"Who's going in first?"@@ She flashes a grin, clearly not expecting anything from this so-called seer. Luke takes a step back and shakes his head. @@.luke;"Not me. One of you can go in first and let me know if it's worth it."@@ @@.samantha;"It's not like I want to go first either,"@@ Samantha complains, crossing her arms stubbornly. The two of them turn toward you, eyes expectant. Looks like it's your decision. <<button "Volunteer" "Intro 8">>\<<set $temp to false>>\<</button>> <<button "Flip a coin" "Intro 8">>\<<set $temp to true>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> <<if $temp is false>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'll go,"@@ you say, raising your hand in a half-hearted motion. Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"Ooh, someone's excited to see the seer first."@@ She dramatically waves her hands in front of her like a fortune teller. @@.samantha;"What is your fate, oh dear $name? Will you become rich? Will you //finally// get a girlfriend?"@@ @@.player;"Or maybe I'll just find out I'm doomed,"@@ you say dryly. Luke chuckles and gives you a solid slap on the back. @@.luke;"Good luck in there man. Let us know if we need to start preparing for your tragic demise."@@ <</if>>\ <<if $temp is true>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Let's flip a coin for it,"@@ you say, fishing a quarter out of your pocket. Luke frowns. @@.luke;"How are we supposed to flip a coin with three people?"@@ @@.samantha;"If it lands on its side, that means I have to go in first,"@@ Samantha smirks, knowing full well that the odds of that happening are next to none. @@.player;"Is that fair?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.luke;"Whatever, let's just do it,"@@ Luke says, grabbing the coin from your hand. He holds it up. @@.luke;"Alright—heads or tails?"@@ @@.player;"Heads,"@@ you state, fully confident. Luke flicks the coin into the air with his thumb, watching as it spins rapidly before snatching it mid-fall. He slaps it onto the back of hand, then lifts his fingers. ''Tails.'' @@.luke;"Good luck, $name,"@@ Luke grins, clapping you on the shoulder. <</if>>\ You sigh, turning toward the tent, resigned to your fate. Just as you're about to step forward, Samantha suddenly grabs your arm. @@.samantha;"Hold on a second."@@ Samantha points at a wooden sign staked into the ground beside the entrance. The letters, painted in bold black strokes, read: ''NO PHOTOS. NO RECORDINGS. RESPECT THE SEER.'' Samantha's grin turns downright wicked. @@.samantha;"You know, $name, you could record it,"@@ she says, holding up her fingers in the shape of a camera and pretending to take a photo. @@.samantha;"Snap! Come on, let's all see your future together."@@ You blink at her. @@.player;"Are you serious? That sign //literally// says no recording."@@ @@.samantha;"Which is why it's perfect,"@@ she says, nudging you playfully. @@.samantha;"Think about it—what if this lady actually says something insane? We need proof."@@ @@.luke;"It would be kinda fun,"@@ Luke admits, rubbing his chin. @@.luke;"Maybe we could even upload it."@@ You hesitate, glancing back at the entrance. The purple fabric of the tent flutters slightly in the breeze as if beckoning you forward. It's probably just some lady in a costume, telling people vague fortunes for fun. @@.player;"...Fine,"@@ you mutter, pulling out your phone. You open the camera app and press the red button to start recording before tucking the device behind your back. @@.player;"Wish me luck."@@ @@.samantha;"Don't die!"@@ Samantha teases. Luke chuckles. @@.luke;"Yeah, man. If she says you're doomed, at least we'll have it on tape."@@ You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you reach for the tent's entrance. With one last deep breath, you push your hand against the fabric and step inside. <<button "What is your fortune?" "Intro 9">><</button>>

<<set $serenaMeetingCG to true>>\ <<include "CG_SerenaMeeting">>\ As you slip past the tent's heavy curtain, the world outside disappears. Warm, perfumed air closes in around you—thick with the intoxicating scent of spice. Candlelight flickers low, gold flames making shadows flicker. The walls of the tent ripple with mystery, every corner whispering secrets you were never meant to hear. At the center, she waits. Draped in violet silk that clings like a lover's touch, the woman reclines beside an open book of strange, swirling script. A sheer veil covers her lips, teasing the imagination, while gold jewelry shimmers along her arms and neck like captured fire. The silk wraps snug around her ample chest, lifting and framing her curves. Her dark hair spills beneath a headpiece, feathers and gems framing her face like a portrait come to life. Every detail about her is deliberate—every line, every movement, every glance. She doesn't speak. She doesn't even need to. Then, suddenly—her eyes snap open. Violet, piercing irises settle on you with an unwavering gaze, as if she's already seen everything she needs to know. @@.serena;"Welcome,"@@ she says, her voice low and steady, carrying the weight of someone who has spoken many truths before. @@.serena;"I am Madame Serena, teller of fortunes."@@ You shift slightly, the hidden weight of your phone pressing against the palm behind your back. Even though you know this is just a festival gimmick, something about her presence makes you sit up a little straighter. @@.player;"Uhh... yeah, hi,"@@ you say, keeping your tone casual. She gestures toward the seat across from her. @@.serena;"Sit, sit. Fewer seek the guidance of the unseen these days. It seems people no longer wish to know what fate has in store for them."@@ You nod absently, though you don't exactly share her sentiment. @@.player;"Yeah, what a shame,"@@ you say, more out of politeness than anything else. @@.player;"So, what's my fortune? Am I gonna be rich and famous?"@@ A flicker of amusement crosses her expression. @@.serena;"You seem eager,"@@ she says. Then, after a brief pause, her gaze sharpens slightly. @@.serena;"But before we begin... you brought no recording devices inside, did you?"@@ Your breath hitches for half a second. Why would she ask that? You clear your throat and force an awkward laugh. @@.player;"Of course not,"@@ you lie, your fingers subtly adjusting around the phone you're keeping hidden behind your back. She watches you for a moment, long enough that you feel the weight of her stare. But then, she simply nods. @@.serena;"Then let us begin."@@ Lifting a deck of tarot cards, she shuffles with practiced ease, the cards slipping smoothly between her fingers. The motion is fluid, effortless, like she's done this a thousand times before. With precision, she lays three cards in front of you, their backs facing upward. @@.serena;"The mirror reveals what you hide, what you fear, and what you refuse to see,"@@ she murmurs. You don't know why, but the words send a slight chill down your spine. Madame Serena turns over the first card. A man in a jester-like outfit stands at the edge of a cliff, head tilted toward the sky, blissfully unaware of the drop below. ''The Fool.'' She taps a finger toward the card. @@.serena;"This is //you//,"@@ she says. @@.serena;"You believe yourself in control, yet you walk blindly toward an unseen fate."@@ You scoff lightly, shifting in your seat. @@.player;"I think I'm doing just fine, thanks."@@ But the words don't settle as easily as you expected. You steal a quick glance at your phone, ensuring it's still recording. Madame Serena studies you, then moves to the second card. As she flips it over, a pale ''moon'' emerges, looming over a dark, rippling landscape. @@.serena;"The Moon,"@@ she says. @@.serena;"Deception. Illusion. The world you know is not whole."@@ Her voice remains steady, but there's something behind her words—something firm, like a truth you haven't realized yet. @@.serena;"You see yourself as one thing, but that is not the whole of your being."@@ You feel a strange tightness in your chest. This is stupid. She's just saying vague, mystical-sounding nonsense, the same way all fortune-tellers do. And yet... something about the way she says it lingers. You say nothing as she moves to the final card. She flips it over, revealing an illustration of two skeletons leaning into a kiss, their hands intertwined. ''The Lovers.'' Your throat goes dry. @@.serena;"Two halves,"@@ Madame Serena says softly. @@.serena;"Masculine and feminine. You are out of balance."@@ Her violet eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. @@.serena;"You mock what you do not understand,"@@ she says. @@.serena;"But the mirror will show you the truth you fear. Your reflection is incomplete."@@ She tilts her head slightly. @@.serena;"To see yourself fully, you must first experience the other side of that reflection."@@ @@.player;"What the hell are you talking about?"@@ you spit out, pulse quickening. The words come out sharper than you intend. Madame Serena doesn't blink. @@.serena;"Each time you act on what you cannot see, the mirror will shift."@@ Before you can react, she reaches forward, her fingers snapping around your wrist with startling speed. You jolt, eyes widening as she twists your arm slightly, revealing the phone clutched in your palm. A sharp pang of fear spikes through your chest. @@.player;"It was a dare!"@@ you blurt out, your voice a little too high, too rushed. @@.player;"I swear, it was just a joke!"@@ Madame Serena doesn't look angry or even surprised. If anything... she looks like she expected this. Then, leaning forward slightly, she speaks. @@.serena;"The mirror will reveal your truth, piece by piece, until you learn."@@ A strange, heavy sensation washes over you—something deep, pulling, like invisible hands gripping onto your very core. The edges of your vision blur. The last thing you see is Madame Serena's calm, knowing expression. Then— <div class = "wavy-text"> <span style="--i:1;">E</span>\ <span style="--i:2;">v</span>\ <span style="--i:3;">e</span>\ <span style="--i:4;">r</span>\ <span style="--i:5;">y</span>\ <span style="--i:6;">t</span>\ <span style="--i:7;">h</span>\ <span style="--i:8;">i</span>\ <span style="--i:9;">n</span>\ <span style="--i:10;">g</span>\ <span style="--i:11;"> </span>\ <span style="--i:12;">f</span>\ <span style="--i:13;">a</span>\ <span style="--i:14;">d</span>\ <span style="--i:15;">e</span>\ <span style="--i:16;">s</span>\ <span style="--i:17;"> </span>\ <span style="--i:18;">t</span>\ <span style="--i:19;">o</span>\ <span style="--i:20;"> </span>\ <span style="--i:21;">b</span>\ <span style="--i:22;">l</span>\ <span style="--i:23;">a</span>\ <span style="--i:24;">c</span>\ <span style="--i:25;">k</span>\ <span style="--i:26;">.</span>\ </div> <<button "Wake up" "Intro 10">><</button>>

<<if $festivalPose is 0>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Let's do a manly pose,"@@ you suggest. @@.player;"Like crossing our arms and tilting our heads down a little—y'know, looking tough."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Didn't we just do a 'manly' pose?"@@ @@.luke;"Hey,"@@ Luke interjects. @@.luke;"Flexing isn't masculine. It's for everyone. Everyone should flex."@@ He nods as if he's just delivered the most profound statement of the afternoon. Samantha groans, rubbing her temples. @@.samantha;"Whatever you say, Luke,"@@ she mutters, rolling her eyes. Still, she crosses her arms and tilts her chin down slightly to match your suggested pose. You and Luke follow suit, the three of you now standing stiffly, arms crossed, heads slightly bowed—like some kind of low-budget action movie poster. <<elseif $festivalPose is 1>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Let's do a girly pose,"@@ you suggest. @@.player;"Like putting our fingers on our cheeks—you know, that kind of cutesy look."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching with amusement. @@.samantha;"A girly pose?"@@ she repeats, a smirk creeping onto her face. @@.samantha;"Didn't peg you for that, $name."@@ Luke stares down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if they suddenly feel foreign. @@.luke;"I'll do it, but I think I'm gonna look really weird."@@ @@.player;"It's just for fun, come on,"@@ you say, nudging him. You're not even sure why you picked this pose—maybe just to see their reactions—but at this point, you're committed. Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"Well, I am a girl, so this is totally normal for me. But you two? Yeah, this is gonna be hilarious."@@ The three of you position yourselves in front of the camera, fingers resting on your cheeks in an exaggerated expression. <<elseif $festivalPose is 2>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 1, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Let's do bunny ears on each other,"@@ you suggest, already lifting your fingers behind Luke's head. @@.player;"I'll do Luke."@@ @@.samantha;"Alright, then I'll get you, and Luke can do me,"@@ Samantha announces, raising her hand behind your head. Luke chuckles and shrugs. @@.luke;"Sounds fair to me,"@@ he says, reaching behind Samantha to complete the pose. The three of you settle into position, smirking as the camera timer counts down. The playful energy in the booth is contagious, and just as the machine beeps, you all lean in slightly to lock in the perfect goofy pose. <<elseif $festivalPose is 3>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 1, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Let's do bunny ears on each other,"@@ you suggest, already lifting your fingers behind Samantha's head. @@.player;"I'll do Samantha."@@ She lets out a short laugh and shakes her head. @@.samantha;"Had to choose me, huh?"@@ Her smirk is teasing, but she doesn't seem to mind. @@.samantha;"Fine, then I'll do bunny ears on Luke, and Luke can get you."@@ @@.luke;"Classic,"@@ Luke says, grinning. @@.luke;"Alright, let's do it."@@ The three of you shift into position, fingers lifted behind each other's heads, forming a perfect loop of playful sabotage. You all flash bright smiles, the mood light and easy. <</if>>\ Just as you all settle into position, the photo booth beeps. A bright flash fills the small space, followed by the familiar snap of the camera capturing the moment. A second later, the screen flickers, and the little animated bear from before reappears. It wiggles happily as it processes the photos. A mechanical hum sounds from the slot below, and your photos slide out, freshly printed and glossy. Samantha grabs them first, flipping through them with a smirk. @@.samantha;"Alright, one for you, one for you, and one for me,"@@ she says, handing them out. She looks down at the final strip in her hands, her smile softening just a little. Then, without warning, she pulls both you and Luke into a tight, almost bone-crushing hug. @@.samantha;"To our senior year,"@@ she says, voice warm but firm. Luke lets out a gasp. @@.luke;"Oh my God, Sam, is this emotion?"@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, shut up,"@@ Samantha groans, although she's still grinning as she squeezes you both even tighter. You laugh and shake your head. Moments like this—you'd make sure they lasted. <<button "Choose where to go next" "Festival Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp2 to true>>\ @@.samantha;"Ooh, I love these!"@@ Samantha dashes ahead, practically bouncing toward the photo booth, tapping eagerly on the touchscreen. A cute cartoon bear waves on the screen, doing a little dance as the interface loads. You and Luke step up behind her, watching as she scrolls through the options. The booth is small but decorated with colorful, glowing strips of light, adding to the festival's cozy atmosphere. @@.samantha;"Hmm... let's do four pictures,"@@ she decides. @@.samantha;"Oh, wait—it's starting //already//?"@@ @@.luke;"Already?!"@@ Luke blurts out, his eyes widening as he suddenly realizes what's happening. @@.luke;"What do I do with my face?"@@ Samantha rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"Dude, it's not that complicated. Just stand there and smile like a normal human being."@@ She positions herself on the right, tilting her head slightly as she flashes a bright, picture-perfect grin. @@.samantha;"Come on, you two! The first shot's coming up in a few seconds."@@ Luke scrambles to the left, hurriedly pasting on a huge grin that looks way too enthusiastic. You step into the middle, doing your best to force a natural smile onto your face. It doesn't quite work. Smiling on command has never been your strong suit, but whatever—the camera beeps, and the first photo is taken. As soon as the screen displays the preview, Luke immediately relaxes, his grin vanishing. @@.luke;"Okay, what's next?"@@ Samantha tips her chin thoughtfully. @@.samantha;"Hmm... let's all wink this time. It's fun, but not too ridiculous."@@ @@.player;"I don't know, I suck at winking,"@@ you say, hesitating. To prove your point, you attempt one, but instead of a smooth wink, you just end up blinking awkwardly. Luke bursts into laughter. @@.luke;"Oh, come on, $name. Just close one eye. You've got like five seconds."@@ You try again, struggling for a moment before finally managing a barely passable wink right as the camera snaps. The result appears on the screen, and to your surprise, it actually looks decent. @@.samantha;"Not bad,"@@ Samantha admits. @@.samantha;"Now, what's next?"@@ She looks at Luke, giving him the chance to choose. He pauses and rubs his chin with exaggerated thought before a slow, devious grin spreads across his face. @@.luke;"Alright, flex your muscles!"@@ he declares, rolling up his left sleeve and striking the most dramatic bodybuilder pose he can manage. You and Samantha both stare at him, unimpressed. @@.samantha;"Bruh,"@@ Samantha deadpans. @@.luke;"What? Come on! It'll be funny!"@@ Luke pleads, still holding the pose. @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you sigh and shake your head. @@.player;"But I get to pick the last one."@@ You flex your arm reluctantly. Samantha half-heartedly joins in, rolling her eyes as she strikes an exaggerated pose next to you. The camera flashes, capturing the moment forever in digital memory. @@.samantha;"And now, for our grand finale,"@@ Samantha says, turning to you. @@.samantha;"What's our final pose, $name?"@@ <<button "Do a manly pose" "Photo Booth 1">>\<<set $festivalPose = 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Do a girly pose" "Photo Booth 1">>\<<set $festivalPose = 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Do bunny ears on Luke" "Photo Booth 1">>\<<set $festivalPose = 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Do bunny ears on Samantha" "Photo Booth 1">>\<<set $festivalPose = 3>>\<</button>>

<<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 1, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "TOLLuke">>\ @@.player;"Luke, come on, let's get on this thing,"@@ you say, motioning toward the ride. Luke grins, his usual enthusiasm shining through. @@.luke;"Alright then, let's go, $name."@@ He steps forward first, holding onto the side of the swan-shaped boat to keep it steady as you climb in. The boat rocks slightly beneath you, but right before you lose your balance, Luke places a firm hand on your shoulder to steady you. You mumble a quick thanks as you scoot into place. He hops in right after, sliding into the seat beside you. Your elbow brushes against his chest, and for some reason, you feel your face heat up a little. Before you can say anything, Samantha bursts into laughter. @@.samantha;"Look, don't be mad, but you two look like gay lovers!"@@ she teases, whipping out her phone before either of you can protest. The camera shutter clicks loudly as she snaps a picture. @@.samantha;"I //have// to post this on Insta."@@ @@.player;"Fuck off, Sam,"@@ you say, rolling your eyes. But despite yourself, you can't help but crack a small smile at her antics. Luke just chuckles, shaking his head. @@.luke;"Come on, $name,"@@ he nudges you lightly, pointing toward the ride operator. @@.luke;"It looks like we're about to start."@@ @@.samantha;"Bye, lovebirds!"@@ Samantha calls, waving as the boat begins to drift forward into the tunnel. As soon as you enter the tunnel, the dim lighting shifts to a warm, dreamy glow. The tunnel walls are decorated with heart-shaped lights and tiny cherub statues holding bows, ready to strike riders with imaginary love arrows. The air is filled with soft, romantic music—something slow and melodic, the kind of song that would play in an old black-and-white film when the leads finally confess their feelings. You lean back slightly, exhaling as you take it all in. Glancing over at Luke, you realize his features are easy to make out even in the dark. His strong jawline, the way his ginger curls falls just a little messily over his forehead, and his broad shoulders from years of football. Despite all that though, he doesn't carry himself like one of the typical jocks. He's always been //your// Luke—the same guy who used to get excited over fantasy novels and superhero comics with you and Samantha back when none of you were even remotely cool. He easily could have ditched the both of you to hang out with the football team, but he never did. Even when his popularity rose, even when people started noticing him more, he stayed right here. Your friend. For some reason, that thought lingers a lot longer than it should. @@.player;"Heh, it's a little awkward,"@@ you say, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"Maybe we should've skipped this one."@@ Luke raises an eyebrow. @@.luke;"Aren't you the one who wanted to come here?"@@ @@.player;"Well, I didn't think it'd be //this// romantic,"@@ you mutter, gesturing to the flashing pink hearts. @@.player;"This is definitely for couples."@@ Luke shrugs, completely unfazed. @@.luke;"Meh, I don't mind. You're one of my closest friends, $name. Can't avoid a little awkwardness sometimes."@@ You're caught off guard by his sincerity. There's no teasing or discomfort, just Luke being Luke. He's the kind of guy who makes people feel safe just by existing. You nod slowly, appreciating his words more than you expected. The rest of the ride continues in a comfortable silence, the boat gliding gently along the winding waterway. Neither of you says anything, but it doesn't feel weird. The tunnel's exit finally comes back into view, and the boat drifts back toward the dock. As you approach, you spot Samantha waiting for you with her phone still in hand, an absolutely devious smirk plastered on her face. @@.samantha;"So,"@@ she says, barely able to contain her laughter, @@.samantha;"who's the top and who's the bottom?"@@ <<button "Choose where to go next" "Festival Choice">><</button>>

<<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 1, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "TOLSamantha">>\ @@.player;"Samantha, come on, let's get on this thing,"@@ you say, motioning to the ride. She raises an eyebrow at you, arms crossed. @@.samantha;"Seriously? You're dragging me onto the Tunnel of Love?"@@ @@.player;"Well, would you prefer if I picked Luke?"@@ you ask, rolling your eyes. Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"Fair point. Alright, let's do this."@@ You hold the boat steady as she climbs in first, stepping carefully to avoid splashing any water onto her shoes. She settles into the seat with an exaggerated sigh, making a show of how positively thrilled she is to be here. Once she's in place, you hop in too, doing your best to not get wet in the process. @@.luke;"Have fun, you two,"@@ Luke calls out, smirking as he waves at you from the dock. @@.luke;"Do your best to not fall in love."@@ @@.samantha;"Fuck off, Luke,"@@ Samantha shoots back as the boat begins to drift forward into the tunnel. As soon as you enter the tunnel, the dim lighting shifts to a warm, dreamy glow. The tunnel walls are decorated with heart-shaped lights and tiny cherub statues holding bows, ready to strike riders with imaginary love arrows. The air is filled with soft, romantic music—something slow and melodic, the kind of song that would play in an old black-and-white film when the leads finally confess their feelings. You glance over at Samantha. In the dim lighting, the soft glow catches on her features. You've never really thought about your best friend in that way, but you have to admit—she's pretty cute. Still, that kind of thing would be weird, right? You've been friends for way too long to suddenly see her differently now. @@.player;"Heh, it's a little awkward,"@@ you say, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"Maybe we should've skipped this one."@@ Samantha lets out a short laugh. @@.samantha;"Hey, you're the one who wanted to come here, not me. Not to mention, you're the one who picked me as your boat buddy. This is //your// fault."@@ @@.player;"What, am I that ugly?"@@ you joke, nudging her lightly. Samantha scoffs. @@.samantha;"Not at all. I call you ugly all the time, but that's just because it's funny."@@ She leans back slightly, letting her fingers skim the edge of the swan boat. @@.samantha;"You know I care about you and Luke, right? You guys are my best friends."@@ Her tone is casual, but there's a rare softness underneath it—one that she doesn't show often. Samantha usually fills every moment of silence with sarcasm, but she's content to stay quiet this time. You can't help but smile. @@.player;"Yeah, I know."@@ The two of you ride in comfortable silence for the rest of the tunnel, letting the boat carry you along its slow, winding path. Eventually, the tunnel's exit comes into view, and the boat glides back toward the dock. Luke is already there, his arms crossed with an expectant grin. @@.luke;"Hope you two enjoyed the ride,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Come on, let's get going."@@ <<button "Choose where to go next" "Festival Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp to true>>\ @@.samantha;"This is where you wanted to go, $name?"@@ Samantha asks, amusement lacing her voice. @@.samantha;"I've got to say, I never pegged you for a romantic."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Shut up, let's just get on."@@ You weren't about to pass up the chance to experience everything the festival had to offer, and that included the Tunnel of Love. You did pay 20 dollars for an entry ticket, after all. You were going to get your money's worth. The ride itself is tucked away behind a row of brightly lit carnival booths, its entrance framed by a heart-shaped archway outlined in soft lights. A wooden dock leads down to the water, where small, swan-shaped boats bob gently along a slow-moving canal. The tunnel ahead is dimly lit which allows warm golden lights to cast shimmering reflections on the water. Somewhere inside, the distant melody of a romantic song drifts through the air. As the three of you step closer, Samantha suddenly pauses. @@.samantha;"There's only space for two people per boat,"@@ she says, shifting her weight. @@.samantha;"So... who's riding?"@@ Luke and Samantha exchange glances, a silent conversation playing out between them before they turn toward you in unison. @@.samantha;"Well,"@@ Samantha says, tilting her head with a smirk, @@.samantha;"you're the one who suggested we check out the Tunnel of Love, so you're //definitely// going on the ride, $name."@@ You glance at the swan boats drifting past, then back at her. @@.player;"Are you seriously going to make me ride this alone?"@@ @@.samantha;"Oh no, you won't be alone, don't worry,"@@ she replies, her grin widening. @@.samantha;"You just have to pick who's riding with you."@@ Luke laughs, casually resting his arms on the railing. @@.luke;"I really don't mind,"@@ he says, shooting you an easygoing smile. @@.luke;"It's just a festival ride, not a marriage proposal."@@ Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"Yeah, I don't care either. Your call, bro."@@ You hesitate for a moment, glancing between them as the next boat approaches the dock. Who are you going to ride with? <<button "Go with Luke" "Tunnel of Love - Luke">><</button>> <<button "Go with Samantha" "Tunnel of Love - Samantha">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $nextScene to "Day 2 - 2">>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "BrushHair">>\ You look in the mirror, eyes fixed on your reflection. Your hair, medium-length and tousled from sleep, falls unevenly across your forehead and around your face. It's still recovering from a long night of tossing and turning. You try not to focus on your eyes—the rounder shape you //still// don't have an explanation for—and instead turn your attention to the mess you call your hair. Grabbing your sister's brush, you begin to run it through your hair. The bristles glide much more smoothly than your own brush had a few moments prior, pulling tangles free. You continue brushing, watching as your hair gradually shifts with each stroke. It starts to loosen, becoming softer, silkier, and straighter. You keep going, lost in the rhythm of the motion. A little more here and a few strokes there. When you finally stop, you nod to yourself. It looks... good. Not just passable or less messy, but actually good. The brush had done a ''lot'' more than you expected. You reach up and casually tuck a few strands behind your ear, then take a step back to look at yourself in the mirror again. <<button "You feel a chill" "Transformation - Hair 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 2>>\ Your alarm explodes into a loud blare, cutting through the silence of your room. You jolt awake with a groggy groan, fumbling for your phone on the nightstand. Your fingers find the screen, silencing the alarm with a clumsy tap. For a moment, you just lie there, staring up at the ceiling and letting the remnants of sleep drain from your body. The early morning light filters in through the blinds, casting thin stripes across the walls. You exhale slowly, then swing your legs over the side of the bed, feet hitting the floor with a quiet thud. Rubbing your eyes, you shuffle over to your desk. Your planner sits propped against the side of your monitor, and you see the day is clear—perfect for following up on the one thing that's been stuck in your mind since yesterday: ''Madame Serena''. If anything weird really //did// happen, the festival might still hold the answers you need. You move toward the full-length mirror mounted beside your wardrobe. As you pass your desk, you catch your reflection out of the corner of your eye. You pause. Your hair is a ''mess'', flattened on one side and sticking up on the other. You run your fingers through it to try taming it, but it doesn't help. Normally, you'd keep it trimmed short, but you've been too lazy to lately, and it's definitely grown out more than usual. You grab your regular brush from the small drawer beside your bed and give it a half-hearted run through your hair, managing to make it look marginally more presentable. You're about to leave it at that when your eyes catch something sitting on top of your drawer: a small floral-patterned brush. It's definitely Lily's. She must've left it here by accident. You pick it up, turning it in your hands. It's slimmer than your usual brush, and even the bristles are finer and more flexible. You glance back at the mirror, debating with yourself. Would it //really// hurt to run it through one more time? Just to make things look a little nicer? <<button "Brush your hair again" "Brush Hair">>\<<set $d2brushedHair to true>>\<<trackChoice "D2_brush_hair" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Leave it" "Day 2 - 2">>\<<set $d2brushedHair to false>>\<<trackChoice "D2_brush_hair" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> <<set $money -= 20>>\ After school lets out, you regroup with Luke and Samantha just outside the gates. The three of you walk together in a loose line, shoes crunching over the dry leaves. The buzz of the Autumn Festival grows louder as you get closer—the faint whirl of rides spinning, the laughter of kids, and the hum of distant carnival music. It's familiar. Hell, almost comforting. But you can't shake the pit in your stomach. @@.luke;"So let me get this straight,"@@ Luke says, brows furrowed as he looks over at you. @@.luke;"You're saying that Madame Serena cursed you because you recorded her?"@@ @@.player;"I think so,"@@ you murmur, eyes fixed ahead. @@.player;"It's kinda fuzzy, but... she definitely got pissed when she saw my phone. Said something cryptic. Grabbed my wrist. Next thing I knew, I was out cold."@@ Luke lets out a low whistle. @@.luke;"That's wild."@@ Then he glances at Samantha, brows raised. @@.luke;"Wait—wasn't //someone// the one who dared $name to record it in the first place?"@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, here we go,"@@ Samantha groans, throwing her hands up with a grin. @@.samantha;"Everything's always //my// fault, huh?"@@ Luke laughs. @@.luke;"I mean, it kinda is."@@ Samantha rolls her eyes but her smile doesn't fade. @@.samantha;"Okay, fine. Guilty as charged. I //did// tell you to record her, sure, but I didn't think it'd end in a cursed transformation arc! I just thought it'd be funny. Like, 'Haha, spooky tent lady caught on camera,' not... whatever this is."@@ You shrug, hands stuffed in your pockets. @@.player;"It's not your fault, really. I went along with it. I should've known better."@@ You pause, letting out a breath. @@.player;"But if she //did// curse me just for that, she seriously needs to chill out. I mean, who hexes someone over a phone?"@@ By the time you reach the ticket booth at the entrance, the festival is already back in full swing. There's a steady stream of people moving in and out: kids with cotton candy, couples holding hands, booths shouting out about discounts. It's just like yesterday... only now, everything feels heavier. You and your friends dig around and manage to pull out the tickets from the day before, hoping you won't have to pay again. @@.luke;"Hey,"@@ Luke says, handing his to the man at the age—a tall guy with arms like tree trunks and a red staff shirt that looks about a size too small. @@.luke;"Do these still work?"@@ The man glances at the tickets, then shakes his head. @@.boy;"Sorry, these are from yesterday,"@@ he says flatly. @@.boy;"You'll need to buy new ones."@@ Samantha leans on the booth counter, giving her best smile. @@.samantha;"Seriously? It's just one day. Our friend passed out in your creepy tent attraction yesterday. You'd think we'd at least get a pass."@@ @@.boy;"Rules are rules,"@@ he says, unmoved. @@.boy;"One ticket, one day."@@ You sigh, pulling out your phone and watching your remaining cash dwindle even further. Twenty more bucks for another colorful scrap of paper—this one printed with today's date: ''September 24, 2024''. All this just for a chance to chase down someone who might not even //be// there. You glance at the ticket in your hand. One number higher, one day later. It almost feels symbolic. Something has //definitely// changed. With your new ticket punched and checked, the three of you step back into the festival grounds. It all looks the same as yesterday. But for you, everything's different now. <<button "Go find Madame Serena" "Day 2 - 11 - Friends">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> After the final bell rings, students begin pouring out of the Pacific Crest campus like a dam has just burst. Laughter and chatter echo through the halls, but you duck out quickly—making a vague excuse to Luke and Samantha that you've got stuff to do tonight. Homework, family thing, whatever. It doesn't matter. You just needed to go alone. You slip through the crowd and make your way down the sidewalk, retracing the familiar route to the Autumn Festival. Crisp leaves crunch under your shoes as you walk, the cool breeze biting at you. There's a tightness in your chest, and your fingers brush against the folded ticket in your pocket. The ticket from yesterday. You're not planning on riding anything or playing any games. You just need to find Madame Serena's tent. Talk to her. Demand some answers. Something. Anything to make sense of what's happening to you. The festival comes into view just over the hill, its entrance marked by the same cheerful arch of pumpkins and string lights. The air is thick with the scent of fried food and cotton candy, and you can hear distant laughter and the shrill creak of the Ferris wheel slowly spinning. You make your way up to the front gate, digging into your pocket and pulling out your crumpled ticket. The big guy working security is the same one from yesterday—broad shoulders, close buzzed hair, arms folded over his chest like he's guarding a secret vault. You offer your ticket, hoping he won't look too closely. But he does. @@.boy;"Sorry,"@@ he says with the firm finality of someone who's repeated this line far too many times already. @@.boy;"That ticket's from yesterday."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Wait, seriously? I just want to go back in real quick. I'm not even doing anything, I just need to talk to someone."@@ He shakes his head, arms still crossed. @@.boy;"Doesn't matter. Rules are rules. You'll need to purchase a new one for today."@@ You let out a slow, frustrated sigh, trying to not let it show how much this annoys you. You weren't planning to spend more money—not when all you wanted to do was walk in, find that tent, and get out. @@.player;"Really,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"It's just one day off. Everything's still the same."@@ The guy doesn't budge. @@.boy;"Still gotta pay."@@ <<button "Try and run past him" "Day 2 - skillcheck">>\<<set $temp to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Try and persuade him" "Day 2 - skillcheck">>\<<set $temp to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Just pay for a new ticket" "Day 2 - skillcheck">>\<<set $temp to 2>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> You weave through the crowd, past the caramel apples, kettle corn, and ring toss games, scanning the festival grounds like a detective retracing a crime scene. You'd swear the tent was near the edge, past the hay maze—but now, everything looks so festive and crowded that your memory may as well be lying to you. Then Samantha steps ahead of you and points. @@.samantha;"Right there, $name,"@@ she says dryly, flicking her wrist toward a shadowed corner near the back of the grounds. Your gaze follows her hand, and sure enough—the tent is still there. Purple and imposing, tucked behind a flickering lantern and a barely-used bench, Madame Serena's tent still stands. Same strange material, same gold embroidery curling across the entrance, and the same eerie stillness. It hasn't changed. Not one bit. You exhale slowly, letting the tension drain from your shoulders. Part of you was convinced it'd be gone, like it had vanished the moment you blacked out. But no—it's real. Still here. Still waiting. Luke trots up beside you, squinting toward the tent like he's seeing it for the first time. @@.luke;"Woah, there's no line. That's kind of sad. Poor lady's missing out on, like, //huge// psychic business."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Well, if she's handing out curses just like that, maybe people are smart enough to avoid her."@@ Luke laughs. @@.luke;"Maybe she just has bad Yelp reviews."@@ Samantha crosses her arms and tilts her head. @@.samantha;"Yeah, or //maybe// it's the fact that $name walked in and collapsed like a cheap lawn chair."@@ She shoots you a glance, and while her tone is classic Samantha, there's a flicker of concern behind her eyes. Then, she adds, @@.samantha;"You sure you wanna do this? What if you pass out again? Or worse, what if she decides to finish the job?"@@ @@.player;"...Finish the job?"@@ you murmur, wondering what exactly she means. Luke puts a hand on your shoulder, his expression full of genuine encouragement. @@.luke;"We can stay close if you want, $name,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"If you want, we'll go in with you. If anything happens, I can carry you out like a hero."@@ You laugh under your breath, shaking your head. @@.player;"No need for that. I can go in alone. I've got it."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow, her tone teasing but less so than usual. @@.samantha;"Alright, brave soul. Just... don't come out of there with glowing eyes or levitating or anything. I'm not emotionally prepared for that."@@ Then, her voice softens just a touch. @@.samantha;"Seriously, though. Be careful, okay?"@@ You meet her eyes and nod, a quiet thank you passing between you without the need for words. Luke gives you a double thumbs-up, still beaming like this is the best adventure ever. You turn back toward the tent. The entrance flutters slightly, like it's waiting. You close your eyes, steady your breath, and place a hand on the worn fabric. Then, with a firm tug, you pull it open—and step inside. <<button "Talk to the seer" "Day 2 - 12">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> You step into the festival grounds, your eyes scanning the colorful chaos around you—spinning rides, flickering lights, booths with games and sweets, laughter ringing in the air. It's loud, bright, and alive. But your focus isn't on any of that. You walk slowly at first, trying to remember where you saw Madame Serena's tent. You squint past rows of vendors and pumpkins until finally, you spot it. Tucked away in the far corner of the festival, partially shadowed by a line of tall corn stalks and backed up against a low hill, the purple tent still stands. You exhale, tension easing from your shoulders. A part of you had fully expected it to be gone. No trace, like it had never existed. But no—there it is, same strange patterns stitched into the fabric, same slightly sagging frame, same ominous stillness. You make your way toward it, weaving past people who barely glance in its direction. Just like yesterday, there's no line. No one even seems curious. It's as if the tent is invisible to everyone but you. When you reach the entrance, you pause for a moment, staring at the deep folds of the fabric that conceal what lies inside. You take a breath, close your eyes briefly, and press your hand against the cool, worn material. Then, with a quick yank, you pull the flap open and step into the darkness within. <<button "Talk to the seer" "Day 2 - 12">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/serena-tent.png"> You step into the tent and the world outside vanishes like a dream upon waking. The air inside is velvet-thick with incense—warm, floral, and heady enough to make you dizzy. Shadows stretch unnaturally across the fabric walls and wind chimes sing in the distance. And then... you see her. Madame Serena. She reclines like a vision from another world, cloaked in purple silk and shadows. Gold chains adorn her arms and neck. Her veil is translucent, just enough to hint at the curve of her lips—painted dark and inviting—and the sharp glint of violet eyes lined in kohl. She doesn't look up as she enters. She doesn't //need// to. The moment your foot brushes a woven rug lying at the entrance, she speaks—smooth and smoky, a voice like warm wine. @@.serena;"I was wondering when you'd come back to me, little one."@@ You freeze. Her voice isn't loud, but it doesn't need to be. Every syllable lingers, slow and deliberate. She raises her gaze to meet yours, and it's like looking directly into a fire. @@.serena;"The mirror's begun to whisper, hasn't it?"@@ she murmurs. @@.serena;"You've seen the edges of your truth, peeking out when no one else is watching. A shift in your gaze. A softness you never chose. You came back because now... you want to choose."@@ Your mouth goes dry. @@.player;"I //really// didn't mean to record you,"@@ you say quickly, trying to summon sincerity even as your heart thunders in your chest. @@.player;"I'm sorry, I really am. But... you //did// curse me, didn't you? You changed me. Please, if there's a way to undo it—"@@ She laughs. Not mockingly or cruelly. But low and musical, like a secret being exhaled. @@.serena;"Oh, sweetheart... I didn't //curse// you."@@ She leans in ever so slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of a tarot card without looking at it. @@.serena;"I simply //revealed// you."@@ Your blood runs cold and hot all at once. @@.serena;"I didn't plant a single thing,"@@ she purrs. @@.serena;"The mirror only reflects what was already buried. You think you're afraid of becoming someone else... but you're not. You're afraid of what you already //are//."@@ You take a shaky breath. @@.player;"Can you stop it?"@@ @@.serena;"No,"@@ she says, not hesitating for even a second. @@.serena;"But I //can// offer you something better."@@ She shifts, and the golden bracelets on her wrist whisper against each other. @@.serena;"A deal. One I've only offered to the most interesting of souls."@@ You blink, swallowing. @@.player;"What kind of deal?"@@ Her eyes gleam like moonlight on still water. @@.serena;"Each time the mirror stirs, each time your truth surfaces, I will give you a moment,"@@ she says. @@.serena;"A breath. A choice. You will decide where the change touches next."@@ You pause, overwhelmed by the weight of her words. @@.player;"I guess I'll take it,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"It's... better than nothing."@@ Madame Serena smiles behind her veil—soft and satisfied. Like she knew you would. @@.serena;"You already have."@@ A shiver rolls down your spine. It's not painful. It's not even unpleasant. But it //wants// something. it waits for direction. You clutch your arms, staggering toward a nearby mirror draped in purple silk. The chill gathers inside your chest like a storm waiting to be unleashed. But this time, you can //feel// it listening to you. You close your eyes... and choose. <<set $nextScene to "Day 2 - 13">> <<if $d2brushedHair is true>>\ <<button "Hair" "Transformation - Hair 2">>\<<set $d2transformation to "hair2">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Hair" "Transformation - Hair 1">>\<<set $d2transformation to "hair1">>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Eyes" "Transformation - Eyes 2">>\<<set $d2transformation to "eyes2">>\<</button>> <<button "Nose" "Transformation - Nose">>\<<set $d2transformation to "nose">>\<</button>> <<button "Lips" "Transformation - Lips 1">>\<<set $d2transformation to "lips1">>\<</button>> <<button "Forehead" "Transformation - Forehead">>\<<set $d2transformation to "forehead">>\<</button>> <<button "Jawline" "Transformation - Jawline 1">>\<<set $d2transformation to "jawline1">>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/serena-tent.png"> @@.player;"I just changed,"@@ you say flatly, irritation tightening your voice. You can still feel the aftershocks of it—your body still humming from the chilling ripple of transformation. @@.player;"You couldn't have told me that was going to happen?"@@ Across the low table, Madame Serena doesn't flinch. She remains poised, regal as ever, a single brow lifting like a whisper of amusement. @@.serena;"Control comes at a price,"@@ she says, her voice a low, velvet drawl. She leans slightly closer, resting her chin against the back of her hand. Her other hand idly traces a shape on the tablecloth. @@.serena;"$name, did you think mastering magic—your //own// truth—would come with step-by-step instructions?"@@ You can't help but scowl. @@.player;"I mean... a heads-up would've been nice."@@ Serena hums low in her throat, as if entertained by your frustration. @@.serena;"And miss the look on your face?"@@ she murmurs, her eyes half-lidded. @@.serena;"I couldn't, darling. Moments of clarity are always better when they arrive raw and unfiltered."@@ You grit your teeth, the sensation of the change still fresh on your skin. But now that you think about it, she's not exactly wrong. Now you //know// what the chill is, how it works, and what you're supposed to do with it. That alone is worth something. You sigh and fold your arms. @@.player;"Well... at least I can choose what changes now, I guess."@@ Serena gives you a pleased nod. @@.serena;"Mhm. Power over the self. Most never ask for it. They just want to stay the same."@@ You glance down, still processing the change. The silence between you thickens, humming with unspoken thoughts. Finally, you lift your gaze and ask the question that's been gnawing at you. @@.player;"Is the curse... making me more feminine?"@@ There's a long pause. Serena's smile curls, slow and knowing. She doesn't answer right away—of course she doesn't. She lets the question hang in the air, her eyes roaming your face with interest. She's reading not your expression, but your soul. @@.serena;"I cannot confirm nor deny that,"@@ she says at last, her voice sultry. But the sparkle in her eyes and the way her lips barely suppress a smile when you say //feminine//... that's all the confirmation you really need. You shift uncomfortably, her words hanging in the air. You want to press for more, to demand answers, but something about her presence makes you hesitate. It's not just her power—it's the way she already seems to know what you're going to say. @@.player;"Why me?"@@ you ask instead, quietly. @@.player;"Why... why this?"@@ She tilts her head slightly. @@.serena;"Because the mirror does not lie,"@@ she says. @@.serena;"It only shows what has always waited beneath the surface. A whisper here, a moment there... and it begins to remember itself."@@ You stare at her, eyebrows furrowing. @@.player;"What exactly does that mean?"@@ @@.serena;"You'll find that the mirror responds not only to what you do, but to what you allow,"@@ she continues almost lazily. @@.serena;"A truth spoken softly. A gesture accepted without question. An instinct you no longer bury."@@ Each time you let your guard down and leaned into something gentle, expressive, or vulnerable... the mirror responded. You swallow hard. @@.player;"So it's not just about what I do—it's about who I am?"@@ @@.serena;"Closer,"@@ Serena purrs, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. @@.serena;"But you're still clinging to the wrong question."@@ You hesitate. @@.player;"Then what's the //right// question?"@@ Serena leans back with an indulgent sigh, as if she's been waiting for you to ask that all along. She lifts a finger, slowly drawing an invisible circle in the air between you. @@.serena;"Let me help you, dear,"@@ she says, her voice now gentle but deliberate, like silk drawn across bare skin. @@.serena;"Let's walk it back and start at the beginning."@@ You blink. @@.player;"The beginning?"@@ Serena nods. @@.serena;"The very first shift. What was happening before the mirror stirred, $name?"@@ You frown, searching your memory. @@.player;"I passed out."@@ She tilts her head like a patient teacher. @@.serena;"Yes. What was happening before the mirror stirred?"@@ @@.player;"You were doing the reading. The cards. You said something about my reflection. That I couldn't see it. That I feared it."@@ @@.serena;"And how did that make you feel?"@@ she asks. You shift. @@.player;"Uncomfortable. Exposed, maybe. I thought you were full of crap at first, but then... I don't know. It was something about the way you said it—like you already //knew// me."@@ She gives a satisfied nod. @@.serena;"Because I did."@@ The answer hits you a lot harder than you expect. She lets the silence stretch a beat before speaking again. @@.serena;"You didn't act feminine then. You didn't even try to. But at that moment, your mask slipped. Just enough."@@ You look up. @@.player;"My mask?"@@ @@.serena;"The one you've worn all your life, $name. The one shaped by fear, by expectations. By all the voices that told you who you had to be."@@ She pauses. @@.serena;"And when it slipped... the mirror stirred. It saw what you wouldn't say."@@ @@.player;"So the first change happened because I was vulnerable?"@@ you ask, mouth going dry. Her lips curl slowly. @@.serena;"Because you were //honest//."@@ You try and find your footing. @@.player;"So then what? every time I'm honest, I... change?"@@ @@.serena;"Well, not just honesty,"@@ she purrs. @@.serena;"Honesty in alignment with what lies beneath. You've already felt it, haven't you? The gentle things. The soft things. The parts of yourself you were taught to ignore. //That's// when the mirror listens."@@ You stare down at the table between you, voice barely audible. @@.player;"So, it's not just any action. It's when I do something... girly."@@ Her eyes sparkle with delight. You lift your head again. @@.player;"It's a feminizing curse."@@ Serena breathes in deeply like she's savoring the moment, her eyes locked on yours. @@.serena;"Yes, and now you know its shape."@@ You lean back, not sure what to say, what to //think//. The weight of it all presses into your chest. She watches you with the air of a woman who already knows the next thing you're going to say. And maybe... she does. <<button "Just leave" "Day 2 - 14">>\<<set $d2serena to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D2_serena_response" "leave" "story">><</button>> <<button "Thank her and leave" "Day 2 - 14">>\<<set $d2serena to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D2_serena_response" "thank" "story">><</button>> <<button "Insult her" "Day 2 - 14">>\<<set $d2serena to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D2_serena_response" "insult" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/serena-tent.png"> <<if $d2serena is 0>>\ You push past the heavy tent flap and step back outside without so much as a glance behind you. The crisp air hits your face instantly—bracing, sharp, a relief after the incense-laced haze inside of the tent. You pause, your hand still curled around the edge of the tent. A part of you thinks about saying something. Maybe to thank her or insult her. But you don't. Because no matter how beautiful or composed or strangely magnetic she seems... she //cursed// you. She didn't ask. Didn't warn you. Just flipped your whole reality on its head and watched it unfold like it was entertainment. Sure, she gave you some kind of control after the fact—but that doesn't erase what she did. That doesn't make it okay. <<elseif $d2serena is 1>>\ <<set $serenaRelo to Math.clamp($serenaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You pause at the entrance of the tent, one hand on the heavy fabric flap. You could just leave. Disappear. Pretend you never even came here. But something nags at you—something unresolved. You glance back. Madame Serena is exactly where you left her. She reclines with effortless grace, her fingers lazily tracing patterns along the table. The candlelight flickers softly over the curves of her body, catching on the smooth swell of her chest beneath the fabric of her gown. It hugs her in just the right places. Her cleavage rises and falls in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each breath measured and intentional. But it's her violet eyes that hold you still: sharp and locked on you. You can't tell what emotion lingers in them now. Curiosity? Expectation? Amusement? You clear your throat, shifting awkwardly. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you begin, quieter now. @@.player;"Uh... before I go."@@ Her eyes sharpen. @@.player;"I just wanted to say thanks,"@@ you say. @@.player;"For the control thing. I mean, you //did// curse me, so I'm not exactly thrilled about things. But still—having a say in how it changes me... that means something."@@ For a moment, she doesn't respond. A flicker of something crosses her face—surprise, maybe. The tiniest parting of her lips, a blink that lasts just a little longer than usual. It's the kind of reaction she likely hasn't given anyone in years. And then, just like that, the mask returns. She straightens her shoulders and smiles. @@.serena;"A rare thing,"@@ she says, her voice velvet-smooth. @@.serena;"Gratitude, even when the gift is not what you expected."@@ She tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she studies you again—almost like she's seeing something new, something she hadn't noticed before. @@.serena;"You may yet surprise yourself, $name."@@ @@.player;"Anyway,"@@ you mutter, turning back toward the exit. @@.player;"That's all."@@ The flap parts in your hand, the cool air brushing against your skin again. You step out, but even as the festival noises return... you feel her eyes on your back. Watching. Measuring. Smiling. <<else>>\ You take a step back from your table, the candlelight flickering in your peripheral vision as you try to collect yourself. Your heart still pounds, your mind racing from everything she just said. A feminizing curse. Triggered by softness. By expression. By //you//, simply letting down your guard. You don't know what burns more—your cheeks or your pride. You start for the exit, but frustration coils in your chest, hot and twisting. You stop. Turn halfway. Look over your shoulder at her—Madame Serena, still lounging like a queen in her shadow-drenched tent. Her lips are parted in a faint, smug smile. Waiting. Watching. She doesn't say a word—but you //know// she's expecting something. As if this whole conversation was just a setup to see how you'd react. And maybe that's what tips you over the edge. You exhale sharply, then scoff. You pause at the tent's edge, then glance back at her with a bitter smirk. @@.player;"You know, cursing me without warning for just recording you? Real classy."@@ You lift your middle fingers. @@.player;"Thanks for that."@@ There's a beat of silence before she laughs. Not a cruel laugh—no, not a cackle or a hiss. It's warm, rich, and indulgent. The kind of laugh you'd hear from a woman who already knows how the story ends. She leans back, her fingers brushing the veil from her cheek as her lips part into a slow, dazzling smile. @@.serena;"Ah, the fire,"@@ she purrs, eyes glinting with wicked pleasure. @@.serena;"You wear it well, darling. But do be careful..."@@ She traces one nail idly across the table, her tone still soft, sultry. @@.serena;"Too much pride burns just as easily as shame. And pride, too, can make the mirror shimmer."@@ You freeze, unsure whether that was a warning or a compliment—or maybe both. @@.serena;"Come back when you're ready, little one,"@@ she adds smoothly. @@.serena;"The mirror waits for no one... but it //remembers// everyone."@@ You don't respond, but you don't //need// to. You push past the curtain flap and step out into the open air, letting the cool breeze hit your face. It's like waking up from a fever dream—but her scene still clings to you. Her voice still whispers at the edges of your mind. The feeling doesn't leave you. You just //know// she's smiling in the dark. <</if>>\ <<if $d2tell is true>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 2 - 15 Friends">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 2 - 15 Solo">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> You step out of the Autumn Festival grounds, the crisp air brushing against your skin as the afternoon sun catches your face. The wind carries the faint scent of kettle corn and pumpkin spice from behind you, but your thoughts are too tangled for you to really notice. Your shoes crunch softly on the gravel path as you spot your friends waiting for you just outside the tent—the two on a wooden bench. Samantha has her phone in hand while Luke swings his legs back and forth. He perks up immediately when he sees you, waving enthusiastically. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. @@.player;"Okay, well... I figured some things out,"@@ you say, your voice a little too casual for how fast your pulse is racing. <<if $d2transformation is "hair2">>\ Samantha straightens immediately. She takes one look at you and opens her mouth in shock. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, $name,"@@ she says, lifting a hand dramatically. @@.samantha;"What the hell is up with your hair? I know for a ''fact'' that hair isn't meant to grow that much in a few minutes."@@ You grimace. @@.player;"Look, I'll explain, just—hang on. I know I'm screwed."@@ You glance at the black hair cascading from your head, still not used to the way it sways when you move. <</if>>\ \ @@.player;"I got cursed,"@@ you say finally, the words feeling ridiculous even as they leave your mouth. @@.player;"Like, actual magical shit. Madame Serena—the creepy fortune teller from the tent? Yeah, it was her."@@ Samantha raises one eyebrow slowly. @@.player;"I got cursed to become more feminine... every time I do something girly."@@ Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Wait. What?"@@ @@.samantha;"Seriously?"@@ Samantha asks, tone dry as sandpaper. @@.samantha;"//That's// what's been going on? That's the curse? You wear lip balm and then you grow boobs?"@@ You let out a long sigh before continuing. @@.player;"It's not exactly like that. It's more controlled. Madame Serena gave me some kind of choice. Like I get to pick which body part changes. She said I'm still going to change every time I do something feminine, though. It's not a fix."@@ There's a silence as your friends take a moment to think. Luke leans forward a little, peering at you. His eyes flick to your face, then down to your posture, like he's trying to match what he's hearing with what he's seeing. Samantha doesn't say anything at first. Her expression has shifted. Her usual sarcasm is gone now, replaced by something more thoughtful. Her eyes narrow slightly—not in judgment, but like she's weighing what you've said. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ she says after a beat, her voice quieter than before. @@.samantha;"You're serious about this."@@ You nod. <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ Luke straightens up beside her, eyes wide. @@.luke;"I mean... I see it. It's pretty obvious, your hair is way longer and kinda shiny."@@ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 5>>\ Luke straightens up beside her, nodding earnestly. @@.luke;"Yeah! I mean... I didn't totally get it at first, but now that I'm looking, I kinda see it. You do seem a little softer."@@ <<else>>\ Luke straightens up beside her, pointing a little as he looks you over. @@.luke;"I mean, to be honest, you look pretty much the same. Maybe a //tiny// bit different? If I didn't know you, I probably wouldn't even notice."@@ <</if>>\ A shaky breath escapes you as the weight of returning home like this starts to settle. <<button "Continue" "Day 2 - 16 Friends">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> The moment you step out of the tent, sunlight floods your vision. It catches you off guard—brighter than you expected after the shadow-drenched world inside. You wince and raise a hand to shield your eyes, blinking several times before your vision readjusts. The air feels different out there—lighter and cooler. But the quiet that follows is heavy in its own way. You glance around. The festival is still alive with color and sound, but none of it touches you. Luke and Samantha aren't here with you. No familiar voices calling your name. Just the breeze in your ears and the weight of what just happened pressing against your chest. You let out a long breath, thoughts swimming. Maybe you should've brought them with you—maybe you didn't want to face this alone. But it's too late now. You mentally go over everything Serena said. The curse. Every time you do something girly—something soft, feminine, or expressive—the mirror stirs. Your body shifts. Slowly. Piece by piece. You //will// become more feminine. And unless you figure out how to stop it... or how to live with it... that's your future. At least you have some control now. You can direct the changes. For now, though, that control seems limited—your face is the only part that seems to respond. Your stomach twists. Suddenly, it hits you: you're going to have to go home soon. You can't just walk through the front door looking totally different. Your mom, your sister—//surely// they'd notice. You pull out your phone, holding it at just the right angle as you open the front-facing camera. The screen flickers to life. You stare at yourself. <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ Your breath catches. Your face is still your face. Same jaw, same cheekbones—but softer. Your eyes look wider, rounder, more open than they ever have. Not in shock, not in expression. Just... shaped differently. It makes you look almost delicate. Your lashes seem darker and longer too. It's as if you applied something—but you didn't. And your hair. It used to be short—messy and low-effort. Now, it brushes your neck. The strands look smoother and healthier. There's an unintentional shape to it now, the kind of soft framing most people spend time and money to style. It's you. Just different enough to make your stomach twist. This isn't a dream. Madame Serena wasn't just some weird lady in a tent. You actually changed. Not metaphorically. Not emotionally. ''Physically.'' You lock the screen and stare at your reflection in the black glass for just a moment longer. So this is what she meant. You shove the phone back in your pocket, pulse quickening. You've got to go home soon. And you need to figure out what the hell you're going to tell your mom if she notices. Which she absolutely will. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 5>>\ There's a definite shift when you catch your reflection—one you can't just chalk up to lighting or tired eyes. Your face looks... different. Not so much that a stranger would call it out, but someone who saw you yesterday might hesitate. Maybe even stare, wondering what changed. Nothing's glaring—there's no makeup or dramatic effect—but something about you feels less boyish. You seem a little more refined and a touch more delicate. It's not quite feminine... not yet. But you're clearly on your way. You could probably come up with //some// kind of an excuse. Blame sleep, puberty, maybe even skincare. But deep down, you know. It's the curse, slowly working its way into your reflection. And if this is how much has changed already... you //have// to wonder how long it'll be before the rest of the world starts noticing too. <<else>>\ You squint at the screen, tilting your phone this way and that to catch the light just right. For a moment, you wonder if you're just imagining things. Maybe it's the lighting. Maybe it's the fatigue in your eyes from everything that's happened. But still... there's something. It's subtle—so subtle it's almost not there. A softness at the edges, maybe. The barest hint of roundness where your features used to be sharper. Your eyes, while still familiar, seem to reflect light differently now. Brighter. Fuller. You frown, leaning in just a little. If you hadn't been watching so closely—if Madame Serena hadn't put the thought in your head—you wouldn't have noticed it at all. And even now, you're not sure if you're seeing it. That's how small the difference is. You could walk into your house, talk to your mom, your sister, your friends—and you doubt that any of them would bat an eye. There's nothing obvious. Nothing dramatic. But somehow, that still unnerves you. That it's all starting so quietly. You let out a slow breath and lower your phone, the screen going dark in your hand. If this is what the beginning looks like... what happens when it isn't subtle anymore? <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 2 - 16 Solo">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ @@.player;"Fuck,"@@ you groan, burying your face in your hands as the weight of everything finally crashes down on you. Your voice is muffled and raw with frustration. @@.player;"What the ''hell'' am I meant to say? How am I going to explain that my hair magically grew that much in a few hours?"@@ You hear Samantha shift beside you, and when you look up, she's staring with a look that's half amusement and half concern. Her arms are still folded, but her posture has lost its usual edge. She exhales through her nose, then says dryly, @@.samantha;"Alright. So, hear me out... We tell your mom that you borrowed some of my miracle hair serum."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ She shrugs, giving you a weak, crooked smile. @@.samantha;"Yeah, like, I loaned you this crazy expensive product I ordered online and you didn't read the label. Boom-bap-bam—surprise Rapunzel moment."@@ You stare at her. @@.samantha;"Look, I know it's not exactly airtight, $name,"@@ Samantha says, raising her hands. @@.samantha;"But your mom's not gonna think 'magic curse' unless you give her a reason to. And if you sell it like you're embarrassed or something—'I just wanted better hair, okay?'—then she might not push."@@ You let yourself sit on the bench, the knot in your stomach loosening just a little. @@.player;"I guess that's... honestly the best excuse I've got right now,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"It's dumb, but better than saying a fortune teller hexed me because I recorded her."@@ Samantha nods. @@.samantha;"Exactly! It's dumb but simple. And simple sells."@@ There's a beat of quiet, then you glance at her, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips. @@.player;"Thanks, Samantha. For not totally roasting me. And for, you know, actually helping."@@ @@.samantha;"Don't get used to this,"@@ Samantha says. She rolls her eyes but doesn't, or maybe can't, hide the warmth in her voice. @@.samantha;"I'm still gonna make fun of you once this stops being a crisis."@@ You let out a laugh. @@.player;"Fair."@@ From beside you, Luke perks up. @@.luke;"Wait, do you guys think the serum story would work for, like, sudden abs too? Just asking for a friend."@@ Samantha sighs, lost for words. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 5>>\ @@.player;"I mean... I //should// be able to come up with some kind of an excuse, right?"@@ you ask, your voice quieter than before. Your voice wavers at the edges as if you're trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. You glance down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. @@.player;"Like, c'mon,"@@ you mumble, swallowing hard. @@.player;"People don't //really// pay attention to this stuff... right?"@@ Samantha doesn't answer right away. She shifts her weight from one leg to the other before glancing over at you, eyes scanning your face. She shrugs. @@.samantha;"I mean, yeah,"@@ she says finally. @@.samantha;"It's not //that// noticeable. You don't look like a girl or anything like that. Yet."@@ The "yet" isn't very reassuring. She pauses, then adds, @@.samantha;"I //do// think you'll be able to brush it off though. Just know you've got this, $name. It's weird, yeah, but you're not alone."@@ You nod, slowly, and try to hold onto that. Even if you're not sure you believe it yet. <<else>>\ You let out a small breath of relief, a faint chuckle escaping as some of the tension drains from your shoulders. @@.player;"Okay, good,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That's... for the best. I can't go home looking too different. My mom would take one look at me and start asking a barrage of questions before I even take my shoes off."@@ Luke grins and claps you gently on the back, maybe a little too hard. @@.luke;"Hey, worst case scenario, just distract them with a snack. That works on me pretty much every time!"@@ You can't help but laugh at that. <</if>>\ <<button "Go home" "Day 2 - 17 Friends">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ You groan under your breath as you stare helplessly at your reflection. There's no denying it—your appearance has noticeably changed. Choosing your hair might have seemed like the best option at the time, for whatever reason, but now you're realizing the issue. Just how the hell are you going to explain how it suddenly grew several inches longer in a matter of hours? You notice that it's styled perfectly too. You tug at a strand, watching it slip through your fingers. It looks professionally done—like you spent the afternoon in a magical salon rather than cursed by a mystical seer. Your stomach twists nervously as you start mentally scrambling for explanations. Could you blame it on a prank? A bet? Maybe you could convince your mom and sister that you lost a weird dare with your friends. The problem is, you never cared much about your appearance before, so even //that// excuse might raise suspicion. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 5>>\ You squint at your reflection, turning your head from side to side. Thankfully, the difference isn't glaringly obvious, but it //is// noticeable enough—especially to someone who sees you daily, like your mom and sister. There's a subtle softness and a slightly more delicate look to you. Whatever it is, it's just enough that you'll need an explanation. You sigh quietly, trying to think of something believable. Maybe you tried something new or borrowed a styling tool from Samantha. As a joke, of course. It won't be easy, but at least you have a fighting chance of convincing them nothing strange happened. Still, your heart beats a bit quicker as you anticipate the curious glances at home. <<else>>\ You let out a relieved breath as you examine your reflection closely. There's barely any noticeable difference at all. You tilt your head as you check every angle, but thankfully, it seems negligible. If your family notices anything at all, which they probably won't, it should be easy enough to brush off. At least for now, the curse remains subtle enough to manage without raising suspicion. <</if>>\ You slip your phone into your pocket and begin the slow walk home. Despite the anxiety that refuses to stop coiling in your stomach, you take a deep breath and force yourself to steady your nerves. Facing this alone is scary, but you ''know'' you'll get through it. After all, you've made it this far. <<button "Go home" "Day 2 - 17 Solo">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-livingroomn.png"> @@.player;"Mom, I'm home!"@@ you call out, kicking off your shoes by the door. @@.player;"Samantha and Luke are here too!"@@ @@.samantha;"Hi, Mrs. Yoon!"@@ Samantha chimes in cheerfully. @@.luke;"Hello, Mrs. Yoon,"@@ Luke echoes a beat later. He's a lot quieter, like he's afraid to disrupt the energy. @@.girl;"I'll be right there!"@@ your mom calls from the kitchen. A moment later, she steps into the living room. <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ She freezes mid-step when her eyes land on you. For a moment, it looks like she might drop the cup in her hand. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ she says slowly, brow arching. @@.girl;"What... happened to your hair?"@@ You open your mouth, but nothing coherent comes out. You glance at Samantha in quiet desperation. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, that's my fault, I'm so sorry,"@@ Samantha jumps in without missing a beat. @@.samantha;"I let him borrow this sketchy hair serum I bought off this random site as a joke. It was supposed to make it glossier, not, like, way longer. Oops?"@@ @@.girl;"Hair serum did that?"@@ your mom asks skeptically, eyeing the transformation. @@.samantha;"It's wild, right?"@@ Samantha says, nodding solemnly. It's as if this is a lesson she'll carry with her to the grave. @@.samantha;"I was gonna try it myself, but... after this, I think I'll pass."@@ Your mom sighs with a soft laugh. @@.girl;"That's what you get for putting mystery chemicals in your head. But hey—it looks good."@@ You nod awkwardly. @@.player;"Thanks, I guess."@@ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 5>>\ She pauses as her gaze lingers on you, eyes narrowing slightly. @@.girl;"You look... different,"@@ she says, tilting her head. @@.girl;"A little graceful. Did something happen?"@@ @@.samantha;"We've been working on posture,"@@ Samantha says before you can speak. @@.samantha;"We did this mock etiquette thing as a joke, and now $name's got this whole poised vibe going on. Pretty convincing, right?"@@ Your mom raises an eyebrow. @@.girl;"Well... I suppose it's a good look."@@ <<else>>\ Your mom looks up as she dries her hands. @@.girl;"How are you three?"@@ @@.samantha;"Good!"@@ Samantha says brightly. @@.samantha;"We just came by to make sure your favorite son didn't collapse on the walk home."@@ @@.luke;"He almost passed out again from being too cool,"@@ Luke says, nudging your arm. Your mom smiles. @@.girl;"Well, I'm glad you made it home in one piece."@@ <</if>>\ Samantha claps her hands. @@.samantha;"Anyway, we should probably head out, Mrs. Yoon. Just wanted to make sure this guy didn't keel over in a bush or something."@@ @@.girl;"But you just got here,"@@ your mom says, blinking in surprise. @@.luke;"We weren't planning to stay long,"@@ Luke adds with a warm grin. @@.luke;"Just wanted to make sure our best friend got home safe, y'know? No fainting spells today."@@ Your mom chuckles softly. @@.girl;"Well, that's very thoughtful of you both. Thank you for looking out for him."@@ @@.samantha;"No problem,"@@ Samantha says with a wink. @@.samantha;"We're very responsible. Terribly mature."@@ They wave goodbye and slip out the door, and for a second, you're left in the quiet of the entryway. @@.player;"Mom, I'm heading to my room now, okay?"@@ you call out as you go toward the stairs. @@.girl;"Alright, just be down when I call you,"@@ she replies. @@.girl;"Your father's getting home soon—we're finally having a family dinner tonight."@@ @@.player;"Will do, Mom,"@@ you reply. <<button "Go to your room" "Day 2 - 18">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-livingroomn.png"> @@.player;"Mom, I'm home!"@@ you call out, nudging off your shoes at the front door and stepping into the living room. The familiar and comforting scent of home-cooked food greets you, helping calm you. <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ Her eyes widen sharply, and she nearly drops the glass she's holding, fumbling slightly before catching it. @@.girl;"Oh my God—$name, what happened to your hair?"@@ she asks, her voice raised with surprise. She blinks rapidly, clearly trying to process what she's seeing. You swallow nervously, instinctively reaching up to touch your hair. You offer a forced smile before speaking, hoping your lie holds water. @@.player;"Oh, uh—they're extensions, you see. Hair extensions. I... wanted to try something different, see what longer hair would look like on me."@@ Your mom stares for a second longer, clearly taken aback, then gradually relaxes. Her shoulders lower slightly, and a curious smile spreads across her face. @@.girl;"Well, they look extremely convincing. I wouldn't have guessed extensions."@@ She tilts her head, studying more closely. @@.girl;"And honestly? You pull it off. Longer hair suits you."@@ Relief washes through you, and you let out a quiet, albeit nervous, chuckle. @@.player;"Thanks, Mom."@@ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 5>>\ As soon as she spots you, she pauses mid-step. She squints curiously in your direction, studying your face closely. @@.girl;"$name, you look... different,"@@ she says finally, sounding genuinely intrigued. @@.girl;"Not in a bad way—just more... graceful, somehow."@@ You laugh awkwardly, hoping your nervousness isn't obvious. You quickly try to spin an explanation, choosing your words carefully. @@.player;"Oh, I've just been carrying myself differently. Posture and stuff. Wanted to look a bit nicer."@@ @@.girl;"Well, whatever you're doing, keep it up,"@@ your mother says, nodding approvingly. @@.girl;"It's subtle, but it suits you."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Mom,"@@ you reply quietly, glad that she accepted your half-truth without suspicion. <<else>>\ She walks casually into the living room, glancing at you without noticing anything unusual. She takes a long sip of water before placing the glass down on the coffee table. @@.girl;"So, how was your day, $name?"@@ You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that she hasn't noticed anything different about you. @@.player;"I'm fine,"@@ you respond simply. <</if>>\ After a pause, you stretch slightly. @@.player;"Anyway, I'm gonna head up to my room, okay?"@@ @@.girl;"Sure thing, sweetheart,"@@ your mom says, giving you a cheerful nod. @@.girl;"Just make sure to come down when I call you. Your father's coming home soon, and I want us all to have a nice family dinner for once."@@ @@.player;"Will do, Mom,"@@ you say as you head toward the stairs. <<button "Go to your room" "Day 2 - 18">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ You let out a tired sigh as you sink down into your chair, glancing at the textbooks and notebooks spread out before you on the desk. With the chaos of the day finally quieting down, you're reminded that school still expects you to do your work. Homework waits for nothing, not even curses. You turn on your computer and skim through the assignments you received today. As you begin to work, you quickly find yourself immersed. \ \ <<if $study > 84>>\ To your relief, the homework feels surprisingly easy. You breeze through the problems and readings, quickly settling into a steady pace. Each assignment is clear and each question is familiar. It doesn't take long before you've completed everything there is to do without even breaking a sweat. After the whirlwind of a day you've had, it's a quiet comfort that at least your homework is easy. <<elseif $study > 79>>\ Fortunately, as you get into your assignments, you realize that it's not all too challenging. Sure, there are moments when you pause and times when you have to double-check. But for the most part, you navigate through it without too much strain. Your homework isn't //easy//, but it is //manageable//. <<else>>\ Unfortunately, it doesn't take long at all before you realize something: you're struggling. The physics problems feel trickier than they should be, and the English reading feels dense and monotonous. Every question is a struggle, each page harder than the last. You fight through it anyway, determined not to fall behind on your first day, but it's frustrating. <</if>>\ The instant you click the button to submit your last assignment, the muffled rumbling of the garage door opening reaches your ears. A few seconds after that, you can catch your dad's voice downstairs, mingling warmly with your mom's cheerful greetings. @@.player;"$name, Lily—time for dinner!"@@ your mom's voice rings clearly up the stairs. You stretch your arms over your head and stand up. The thought of facing your entire family still sends a brief flutter of nervousness through your stomach, but you push it aside. You've managed everything so far; surely dinner of all things won't be too difficult. After taking a deep, //deep// breath to steady yourself, you leave your room and head downstairs toward the warmth of your family. <<button "Go to the Yoon family dinner" "Day 2 - 19">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-kitchen.png"> You make your way into the kitchen, stepping onto the hardwood floor as the aroma of dinner greets you. Your father stands near the counter, still in his dark business suit—sharp and professional, sure, but clearly exhausted. His tie is loosened slightly, his briefcase set aside, and dark circles beneath his eyes hint at long flights and meetings that seems to go on for hours. He glances over to your mother briefly, murmuring something quietly that earns a soft laugh from her. He then turns his attention toward you. His face breaks into a warm, albeit weary, smile. It's genuine, yet tinged with the distance you've unfortunately grown accustomed to from his constant absences. Your dad's work keeps him out of town more often than not. He's spent more time juggling hotel stays and airports than sitting down for family dinners, and though you've grown used to it, his presence tonight feels oddly reassuring. <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ He pauses immediately, his expression shifting to one of amused surprise as he takes in your noticeably different appearance. @@.boy;"Son, what happened to your hair?"@@ he asks, chuckling. He runs a hand through his own neatly trimmed hair as if checking to compare. @@.boy;"Have I //really// been gone that long? It's only been three weeks—your hair sure grows fast, huh?"@@ <<if $d2tell is true>>\ You swallow the lump of anxiety in your throat, quickly summoning the same flimsy explanation Samantha had offered your mom earlier. @@.player;"Oh, yeah—they're, uh, because of this weird hair serum. I borrowed it from my friend, Samantha. You remember her, right?"@@ Your dad's tired eyes assess you, and for a second, you worry that he'll realize something's wrong. But he then shrugs good-naturedly, accepting it without question. @@.boy;"Well, things like that happen, I suppose,"@@ he says with a slightly awkward smile. It's clear he's not fully grasping how hair serum could do //that//, but doesn't see a reason to press the matter further. <<else>>\ You swallow the lump of anxiety in your throat, quickly summoning the same flimsy explanation you'd offered your mom earlier. @@.player;"Oh, yeah—they're, uh, hair extensions. I just... wanted to try something new."@@ Your dad's tired eyes assess you, and for a second, you worry that he'll realize something's wrong. But he then shrugs good-naturedly, accepting it without question. @@.boy;"Well, experimenting is good, I suppose,"@@ he says with a slightly awkward smile. It's clear he's not fully grasping why you'd suddenly try hair extensions, but doesn't see a reason to press the matter further. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ His gaze softens immediately when he sees you, and his smile widens noticeably. @@.boy;"Son, how are you?"@@ he asks warmly, though the fatigue is still evident in the lines of his face. He pats you on the shoulder, a rare gesture you can't help but appreciate. @@.player;"I'm doing fine, Dad,"@@ you respond genuinely. @@.player;"Glad you're finally back."@@ @@.boy;"Trust me when I say me too, $name,"@@ your dad replies, his sincerity evident in the tone of his voice. @@.boy;"Hotels get pretty old after a while."@@ <</if>>\ The comfortable moment between you is abruptly interrupted by your mom's exasperated voice from the hallway, sharp and tinged with frustration. @@.girl;"Lily, come out right this instant!"@@ your mom calls, stomping over toward Lily's room, clearly at her wit's end. @@.girl;"Honestly, that girl just refuses to listen! Lily, your father's home, and dinner is ready!"@@ A muffled groan emerges from Lily's room. You hear the sound of footsteps dragging across the wood floor before the door lazily opens. Lily's there, her trademark wolfcut looking disheveled. A scowl is etched deeply into her features as your mom practically guides her by the arm toward the dining table. @@.lily;"Geez, Mom, I heard you the first million times!"@@ Lily protests, pulling her arm free and slumping into her chair with an exaggerated sigh. @@.lily;"You don't have to drag me around like a toddler."@@ You can't help but laugh quietly at the scene unfolding in front of your very eyes. That was a mistake. Lily instantly snaps her neck toward you, eyes narrowed in fiery irritation. <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ @@.lily;"And you, $name—stop laughing!"@@ she says, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinizes your appearance. @@.lily;"What happened to your hair? You look like you stole a wig from some idol."@@ <<else>>\ @@.lily;"And you, $name—stop laughing!"@@ she says, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinizes your appearance. @@.lily;"What's different about your face anyway? You look weird."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Be mean to your sister" "Day 2 - 20">>\<<set $temp to false>>\<</button>> <<button "Be nice to your sister" "Day 2 - 20">>\<<set $temp to true>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $top to 0>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ <<if $d2brushedHair is true>>\ You freeze, staring at your reflection. Your breath catches. It's subtle, but your hair most definitely looks different. And not in the "oh, I brushed it better" kind of way. It's smoother, shinier, and falls more gracefully against your face than it ''ever'' has before. The strands frame your cheeks neatly, softening your features in a way that's almost delicate. You reach up and run your fingers through it. It feels like silk. This isn't just tidying up bedhead. It isn't just a better brush. This is something else altogether. You glance toward the mirror again, and this time, you truly study yourself. There's a different quality to your appearance now. You look more polished, more refined. Your hair even gleams slightly in the light coming through the window, no longer unruly or flat. Hell, it even makes your round eyes stand out more. A chill runs down your spine. Your mind flashes back to the night before. @@.serena;"The mirror will reveal your truth, piece by piece, until you learn."@@ You take a shaky breath. Could this really be it? You barely even //did// anything. Just brushed your hair. Sure, you used your sister's brush because it was closer, and—what, that was enough? You want to dismiss it, to laugh it off. But your heart's racing, and there's a tightness in your chest that refuses to ease. You //know// your hair wasn't like this before. Is this what she meant? Was Madame Serena being serious? You swallow hard and try to focus. There's no time to spiral, not now. You glance at the clock and realize you've already wasted a few minutes staring at yourself. You don't have any answers to the questions swirling in your mind, not yet, and school's still happening regardless of whether your reflection is shifting or not. You gather your things, methodically packing your backpack. Laptop, charger, notebooks, pencils. You force yourself through the rest of your routine. Washing your face, brushing your teeth, and throwing on clean clothes. Your sister storms past your door as you step into the hallway, head down and thumbs flying over her phone screen. Her wolfcut is a ''total'' mess. It's like she'd rolled out of bed and didn't bother fixing it. You give her a light elbow nudge as you pass. She glances up with a raised brow and half-smirk. @@.lily;"Watch it, loser."@@ But then her expression shifts just a little. She gives you a second look, brow furrowing. @@.lily;"...Did you do something to your hair?"@@ she asks, clearly curious. Your stomach drops. Then, without waiting for an answer, she shrugs and keeps walking. @@.lily;"Looks kinda different."@@ You exhale and try to shake the moment from your mind. It's fine, $name. She probably didn't mean anything by it. Still, her comment loops in your head as you move through the rest of your morning. As you head toward the door, your mom steps out from the kitchen holding a mug of coffee. @@.player;"Bye, Mom,"@@ you call, pulling on your shoes near the entryway. @@.girl;"Hold on,"@@ she says, setting the mug down and walking over. @@.girl;"Let me get a good look at you."@@ You don't have any time to react before she pulls you into a warm hug. You tense up a little—less from the hug itself and more from the thought she might notice something. She pulls back and studies you for a second, her brows knitting together. @@.girl;"Did you do something with your look?"@@ she asks, tilting her head. @@.girl;"You look a little... prettier today."@@ Your heart skips a beat. You let out an awkward, unconvincing laugh. @@.player;"No, nope, not at all. It's still the same old me."@@ @@.girl;"Huh."@@ She doesn't sound convinced, but she lets it go. @@.girl;"Well, have a good day at school, alright?"@@ @@.player;"Got it, bye!"@@ you say quickly, swinging open the front door. You step outside into the crisp morning air. The door clicks shut behind you. And for a moment, you just stand there on the front step, backpack slung over your shoulder and heart thudding against your ribs. Prettier. You take a deep breath. Something is definitely happening, and you're starting to think Madame Serena wasn't bluffing. <<else>>\ You glance at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair's still sticking up at odd angles. But instead of fixing it, you just stare at it for a second and sigh, setting the brush down. It's fine. Not great. Not even //good//, if you're being honest. But good enough. You do decide to give your hair a quick finger comb, trying to pat it down in a few places, but that's about all the effort you're willing to give. Brushing it properly would take time and patience, neither of which you have this morning. Besides, school starts in less than thirty minutes. You haven't done anything to prepare, and your appearance is the least of your worries right now. You turn away from the mirror, grab your backpack, and start going through the usual checklist. Laptop, charger, notebooks, pencils. You double-check just to make sure. Everything's accounted for. You head to the bathroom to knock out the rest of your routine. You splash some cold water on your face and brush your teeth, moving quickly but not carelessly. The whole thing only takes a few minutes, your thoughts drifting aimlessly from topic to topic the whole time—Madame Serena, the missing video, the weird empty tent. What did it all mean? You still don't know. Your sister passes by the bathroom door as you step out, wolfcut a total mess—like she slept face-down on a pillow and never bothered to fix it. You nudge her lightly with your elbow as you walk up. She glances up from her phone. @@.lily;"Watch it, loser."@@ You chuckle under your breath, shaking your head. That's more like it. You return to your room and slide your backpack onto one shoulder. Your stomach grumbles, but you just ignore it—skipping breakfast has been a regular thing for you since middle school. You'll just wait until lunch, as always. By the time you reach the front door, your mom's already in the kitchen, sipping coffee and scrolling through something on her tablet. You call out to her over your shoulder. @@.player;"Bye, Mom!"@@ She steps out into the hallway. @@.girl;"Hold on—let me get a good look at you."@@ Before you can duck out, she pulls you into a hug. It's warm and familiar and a little too tight, like she's trying to squeeze all the growing-up out of you before it's too late. @@.player;"Geez, Mom, I'm eighteen,"@@ you mumble with a laugh. @@.player;"I'm an adult, y'know."@@ @@.girl;"Well, a mother can hug her son whenever she feels like it,"@@ she says, squeezing one last time before letting go. @@.girl;"Now go. Try not to fall asleep in class."@@ Your sister leans against the wall, arms crossed, smirking. @@.lily;"Bye, ugly,"@@ she says, sticking her tongue out before ducking back into her room. You roll your eyes, grab the handle, and pull the door open. The morning air is cool and crisp as you step outside, your shoes stepping against the concrete path. The door clicks shut behind you, muting the sounds of your family as the outside world comes into focus. Everything feels normal. Almost //too// normal. <</if>>\ <<button "Walk to school" "Day 2 - 3">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-kitchen.png"> <<if $temp is true>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ <<if $d2tell is true>>\ You soften your expression, deciding against further teasing. @@.player;"It's just this hair serum,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Samantha gave it to me and it ended up working a little too well. Does it really look that bad?"@@ Lily blinks, surprised by your sincerity, before reluctantly backing off. @@.lily;"I mean, it's... fine, I guess. Just kinda weird."@@ <<else>>\ You soften your expression, deciding against further teasing. @@.player;"It's just hair extensions,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Thought I'd try something new. Does it really look that bad?"@@ Lily blinks, surprised by your sincerity, before reluctantly backing off. @@.lily;"I mean, it's... fine, I guess. Just kinda weird."@@ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Chill, Lily,"@@ you say, offering a small smile. @@.player;"Maybe I just got better looking."@@ She frowns, but the edge softens. @@.lily;"Yeah, right. In your dreams."@@ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ You roll your eyes and smirk. @@.player;"Jealous much? Sorry you can't pull it off like I can."@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, whatever you say,"@@ Lily says, scoffing and crossing her arms with a scowl. @@.lily;"Enjoy your K-pop phase, weirdo."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Maybe your face is just getting worse,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.player;"Ever think of that?"@@ Lily glares. @@.lily;"You're such a jerk."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ As the family settles around the dinner table, your mom turns to Lily, her expression a blend of curiosity and mild exasperation. @@.girl;"Lily, what took you so long to come down? We've been waiting."@@ @@.lily;"I was playing Dress to Impress on Roblox!"@@ she says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. @@.lily;"The theme was Gothic Gala and I was //this// close to becoming a Fashion Maven."@@ Your dad raises an eyebrow, clearly out of his depth. Lily scowls at the Fettuccine Alfredo in front of her like it personally offended her. Meanwhile, you can't help but breathe in the smell. Creamy, garlicky, and rich. You can see why it's your dad's favorite. @@.boy;"Thanks, honey,"@@ your dad says, leaning over to give your mom a quick kiss on the lips. @@.lily;"Ugh, gross,"@@ Lily groans, dramatically shielding her eyes like she just witnessed a horrific crime. You lean in, grinning. @@.player;"Wait 'til you find out how we were made."@@ Lily makes a loud gagging noise. @@.lily;"Why would you say that, $name?! I'm literally about to eat!"@@ Your mom lets out a long sigh before saying, @@.girl;"Can we //please// keep this dinner PG?"@@ Your dad chuckles, clearly amused, until your mom gives him a light slap on the arm. <<set $familydinnerCG to true>>\ <<set $familydinnerCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $familydinnerCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<include "CG_FamilyDinner">>\ @@.boy;"Ahem—yes, yes,"@@ he says, suddenly straightening up in his seat. @@.boy;"Let's all keep the dinner talk... appropriate."@@ Lily points a finger at you. @@.lily;"He started it!"@@ @@.player;"It's //really// not my fault that you're still mentally six,"@@ you fire back. @@.lily;"I'm fourteen!"@@ @@.player;"Sure, but you //act// like you're seven."@@ @@.lily;"I hope your water goes down the wrong pipe."@@ @@.girl;"Children,"@@ your mom says with the weary tone of someone who has raised two too many children, @@.girl;"just eat."@@ Despite everything, there's a warmth in the room that you've missed. It's good to have everyone home. <<button "Continue" "Day 2 - 21">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> After dinner, the night slips into routine. Despite that though, your mind just ''refuses'' to settle. You tell yourself you'll be productive. You even stare at your desk for a while, staring at a blank document on your computer. But nothing happens. The words don't come. The motivation isn't there. So instead, you waste time. Scrolling and clicking. Rewatching videos you've seen a dozen times. Anything to keep your thoughts from circling back to the one thing you're trying not to think about. Eventually, you pull yourself up and drag yourself to the bathroom. You take a long shower, letting the warm water run over your skin. You hope it'll rinse away your worries, but it doesn't. You study your body briefly as you towel off—same shape, same build. Still familiar. Still... //you//. You're grateful for that. Whatever this curse is, it hasn't touched your body. At least for now. Your face is a whole different story, but your body is still yours. The idea of even that changing is kind of terrifying. Back in your room, it's now late. You pause in front of the full-length mirror next to your desk and hesitate. Your gaze rises slowly to your reflection. It's still you, but also not. Only $femineChanges changes. That's all it's taken to change you. To get you to where you are now. What happens when you change again? What if it keeps going? What if you wake up one day and realize you don't look anything like $name anymore? The thought lingers in the air, heavy and unsettling. You shift on your feet, unsure how to even feel about it. A part of you wants to rebel, but another part thinks differently. You ask yourself what would happen if it never stopped. <<button "You wouldn't hate it" "Day 2 - 22">>\<<set $d2hate to false>>\<<trackChoice "D2_hate_changes" false "story">><</button>> <<button "You would hate it" "Day 2 - 22">>\<<set $d2hate to true>>\<<trackChoice "D2_hate_changes" true "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> You stare at your reflection for a long time. Longer than you ever have before in your entire life. There's nothing extreme just yet, but there is the softening here and the curve there. It's enough to make you wonder what's waiting for you down the road. What would it mean to look in the mirror and see someone unrecognizable? <<if $d2hate is false>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ The idea unsettles you. How could it //not//? But the longer you stare, the less it disgusts you. The fear remains, a low thrum under your skin, but there's also curiosity. A reluctant openness. You're not saying you //want// it to happen. But you're not sure you'd hate it either. And that scares you in a whole different way. A piece of you wonders what it would be like to lean into it. Would it really be so awful? Would the world end if you started looking more feminine? You don't have the answers. Not yet, at least. But for the first time, you're not recoiling from the thought of it. Maybe you're not as sure of yourself as you thought. Or maybe... you're just starting to understand a part of yourself that's been buried for a long time. <<else>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You feel your stomach twist as the full realization hits you. This is ''not'' what you want. Not even close. This curse, this change... it all just feels so wrong. Like a violation, like something is being chipped away piece by piece. You're a guy. You've always been a guy. That's who you are, and that's how you intend to stay. You won't let the curse take you. You'll fight it if you have to. You'll figure out a way to reverse it. You're willing to do //anything// but become someone you don't recognize. Someone you don't understand. You're not going to let Madame Serena rewrite your life. At least not without a fight. <</if>>\ You turn off the light and climb into your bed. The thoughts don't stop—not right away—but your body is too tired to keep turning them over. Eventually, your breathing evens out. The thoughts fade. And sleep wraps around you like a blanket. <<button "Continue" "Day 3 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> You walk to school at a sluggish pace, hands in your pockets and eyes on the sidewalk. Each step feels heavier than the last, not from exhaustion, but from the weight of your thoughts. The morning air is crisp, the kind that should feel refreshing—but you barely even register it. You're far too deep in your own head. <<if $d2brushedHair is true>>\ Even your mom and Lily had noticed something. They didn't //say// it like it was a big deal, but they both said you looked different. That wasn't something you heard every day. You hadn't done anything major—just brushed your hair. But the way it looked afterward and the way it //felt//—it was different. Too different to be normal. You keep thinking about Madame Serena's voice, smooth and cryptic: @@.serena;"Each time you act on what you cannot see, the mirror will shift."@@ <<else>>\ Your eyes are what get you the most. The shape is just //wrong//. They're rounder and softer—not enough for anyone to call you out on it yet, but you see it. You can't //not// see it. And it's all you can think about. You wonder, if you'd picked up the brush, would something else have changed too? Was that part of what Madame Serena mentioned? Or are you just imagining things—spiraling because you got scared? <</if>>\ You're so caught up in your own thoughts that you don't even notice someone jogging up behind you until— @@.luke;"$name!"@@ You jolt slightly as Luke practically bounds up to your side, flashing that big grin of his. His backpack bounces behind him with each step, and his sneakers slap against the sidewalk with the energy of someone who absolutely doesn't //get// quiet mornings. @@.luke;"There you are! Man, I've been trying to catch up for a while now."@@ He falls into step beside you, walking a little too close like he doesn't believe in personal space. @@.luke;"How are you?"@@ You blink at him, your brain still booting up from the sudden shift in energy. @@.player;"Oh. Uh. Hey,"@@ you say awkwardly. @@.player;"I'm... good."@@ Luke stops walking for half a second, tilts his head, then catches up again, spinning around to face you as he walks backward. @@.luke;"Good?"@@ he echoes with a playful frown. @@.luke;"That's it? Just 'good'?"@@ He circles back around and drapes one arm across your shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world. @@.luke;"$name, dude, you passed the hell out yesterday. You scared me and Samantha. We messaged you all night, you know. You didn't reply, though. I thought you were dead or grounded or abducted by aliens or something."@@ @@.player;"Sorry,"@@ you mumble. @@.player;"I just... needed to clear my head."@@ Luke pulls back a little but still walks close beside you. He eyes you for a moment, lips pursed. @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, catching the look. @@.player;"Do I have something on my face or something?"@@ Luke tilts his head, squinting a little more. @@.luke;"Well, you //do// seem different today."@@ You freeze mid-step. @@.player;"Wait—really?"@@ You stop walking, turning toward him. @@.player;"Do I look... different?"@@ Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Uh... I mean..."@@ He leans in without hesitation, his face suddenly //way// too close. You instinctively pull your head back, brows furrowed as he scans your face. @@.luke;"Hmm..."@@ He circles around you. @@.luke;"Let's see here. Same nose. Same dorky posture. Same death glare when you're annoyed."@@ Then he steps back, breaking into a wide grin. @@.luke;"Nope! You're still the same old $name. Gotta say I am the better-looking friend, though."@@ You groan and rub your face. @@.player;"Luke."@@ @@.luke;"What?!"@@ he says with a loud laugh, giving your shoulder a playful bump. @@.luke;"You asked! I gave you my professional Luke opinion. Others have to pay for that, y'know."@@ @@.luke;"But seriously,"@@ he adds, voice softening a little, @@.luke;"why'd you ask? Is something wrong?"@@ You hesitate, unsure of how much you //can// say—unsure of whether you even should. Madame Serena's words echo again in the back of your mind: @@.serena;"To see yourself fully, you must first experience the other side of that reflection."@@ And now Luke, your best friend, is standing here, eyes full of warmth and genuine concern, waiting for an answer. <<button "Tell him about your suspicions" "Day 2 - 4 Tell">>\<<set $d2tell to true>>\<<trackChoice "D2_tell_luke" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Just brush it off" "Day 2 - 4 Secret">>\<<set $d2tell to false>>\<<trackChoice "D2_tell_luke" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> @@.player;"No, no reason,"@@ you say quickly, forcing a casual tone. @@.player;"I was just curious, that's all."@@ You brain scrambled for something, //anything//, to cover with, and you latch onto the easiest excuse. @@.player;"It's probably just from passing out yesterday. I guess I was wondering if I looked... I don't know, out of it or something."@@ Luke's concern melts into a grin. @@.luke;"Well, your head hasn't gotten any bigger, so I think we're in the clear."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Wow, thanks."@@ @@.luke;"I mean, if it had, we might've had to get it medically examined,"@@ he says, grinning wider, @@.luke;"Or fitted for a custom helmet."@@ <<if $sarcastic > $genuine>>\ @@.player;"That's rich coming from the wide receiver,"@@ you say, laughing as you give him a playful punch on the arm. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Oh, shut up,"@@ you say, giving him a playful punch on the arm. <</if>>\ The tension from earlier fades just a bit, and the two of you settle into your usual rhythm—cracking dumb jokes and tossing insults back and forth like a well-rehearsed routine. It almost feels normal. Almost. <<button "Go to school" "Day 2 - 5">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> <<grantAchievement "TellFriends">>\ @@.player;"I just asked because..."@@ You trail off, your voice thinning as the words catch in your throat. The moment stretches awkwardly, your mouth slightly open like your brain's buffering. You look down at your shoes, then back up at Luke, who's blinking at you expectantly with that easy grin that hasn't quite registered the shift in your tone. You hesitate. Saying it out loud will make it ''real''. You've been turning the thought over and over in your mind since last night, trying to convince yourself it's just paranoia. Just stress. Just something—//anything//—you could explain away rationally. But you can't. And bottling it up is starting to feel like it might ''crush'' you. So, you take a slow, steadying breath, trying to organize the storm of thoughts in your head into something that sounds even halfway sane. @@.player;"I think I've been... changing."@@ You look Luke in the eye now, even as your gut twists. @@.player;"Physically. I mean—like, //actually// changing."@@ Luke's smile falters. @@.player;"And I think... I think it's because of that lady. The one at the Autumn Festival. The fortune teller—Madame Serena. Fuck, I think she //cursed// me."@@ The moment the word //cursed// slips past your lips, you already regret it. It sounds ridiculous. //You// sound ridiculous. Luke, to his credit, doesn't immediately burst out laughing. But he does stop walking. He blinks a few times, mouth twitching slightly like he's not sure whether he misheard you or if you're setting him up for a joke. @@.luke;"Wait.. what?"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Back up—did you just say //cursed//?"@@ You nod slowly, your expression dead serious. His grin fades. He squints at you, brows drawing together as his tone shifts. @@.luke;"Come on, $name. Stop trolling. You can't be serious right now."@@ @@.player;"I know how it sounds,"@@ you say quietly. Luke stares at you like you've just grown a second head. @@.luke;"Dude, are you okay? Like—//actually// okay?"@@ His voice is more careful now, more measured. @@.luke;"Because... you //did// pass out yesterday. Maybe we should've taken you to the nurse or even the hospital or something. I thought you just fainted from heat or stress, but..."@@ He trails off, watching you closely. You let out a slow, frustrated sigh. You knew this was going to be his reaction. Hell, it's the only logical reaction. And if the roles were reversed, you know you wouldn't believe it either. @@.player;"I swear I'm not crazy, Luke."@@ You rub your hands down your face, trying to get the words out without sounding like a total lunatic. @@.player;"I've just... noticed things. Weird things. My reflection looks off. I don't know what's happening."@@ You look over at him again, unsure if you're hoping he believes you or hoping he'll tell you you're just being paranoid. <<if $d2brushedHair is true>>\ You take another breath and point to your head. @@.player;"Okay, just—look at my hair."@@ Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Your hair?"@@ He gives you a weird look, his tone light but confused. @@.luke;"Uh... yeah? It looks good! Kinda fluffy today."@@ You sigh. @@.player;"It's not just that I brushed it. Luke, it's... different. Like, actually //different//."@@ He lets out a short laugh, trying to break the awkward tension. @@.luke;"Dude, I'm pretty sure brushing your hair doesn't mean you're haunted or whatever."@@ You groan. @@.player;"No, seriously. Just—here."@@ You lean your head forward slightly. @@.player;"Touch it."@@ Luke recoils slightly. @@.luke;"Wait. What?"@@ @@.player;"Touch my hair,"@@ you repeat firmly. You're not even sure why you care this much, but something about it is real—you can feel it, and you need someone else to feel it too. Luke stares at you for a moment, visibly uncertain. @@.luke;"Bro, are you asking me to pet you?"@@ @@.player;"Just shut up and do it!"@@ He laughs again, hands raised in surrender. @@.luke;"Alright, alright, I will. You're weird today."@@ He reaches out hesitantly and runs his fingers through your hair. At first, it's just a casual pass, but then he slows down. His expression shifts—eyebrows lifting and mouth parting slightly. @@.luke;"Dude... what the hell is this?"@@ he murmurs. He strokes your hair again, more deliberately this time. @@.luke;"Why is it so soft? It's like... a shampoo commercial or something. What did you do?"@@ You give him a look. @@.player;"Nothing, I just brushed it."@@ Luke's eyes widen. @@.luke;"That's it? Bro, no shot. That's not normal from brushing. You sure you didn't bathe in unicorn tears or something?"@@ You hesitate. @@.player;"...I used my sister's brush."@@ @@.luke;"Ohh,"@@ Luke gasps dramatically, like you just revealed a forbidden secret. @@.luke;"That's kinda scandalous. I hope you didn't steal it. Lily doesn't deserve that."@@ @@.player;"No, it's not like that. When I used her brush, it felt... weird. Like the texture of my hair started changing while I was brushing. Not just smoothing it out like normal, but like it was actually transforming."@@ Luke steps back, looking at you with an odd mix of confusion and curiosity.. @@.luke;"That's actually kind of creepy. Like, your hair legit feels like it belongs to someone else. Someone with, like, fancy haircare routines and ancient Japanese serums."@@ You don't laugh. He notices. @@.luke;"Wait... are you saying that's what's changing? That the curse is turning your hair soft?"@@ @@.player;"It's not //just// my hair,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's my eyes too. But with my hair, it looked normal yesterday. You saw! But this morning? It falls differently. It reflects light differently. It even //moves// differently. I noticed it right away, and so did my mom and Lily. They both said I looked... prettier."@@ Luke stares at you, blinking slowly. @@.luke;"Okay,"@@ he finally says, drawing the word out like he's still processing. @@.luke;"So, to summarize: you think a psychic at the carnival cursed you, and now you're... evolving into a better shampoo model."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"I'm serious, Luke."@@ @@.luke;"I know, I know,"@@ he says quickly, holding up his hands. @@.luke;"I //am// taking you seriously. It's just... wow, man. That's a lot."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Tell me about it."@@ <<else>>\ You gesture toward your face, stepping closer so Luke can get a clear view. @@.player;"Here, look carefully at my eyes."@@ Luke pauses, confusion spreading across his face as he tries to follow you. @@.luke;"Your eyes?"@@ He tilts his head, his brows knitting together for a moment before breaking into a teasing grin. @@.luke;"Uh, okay. Are we about to share a romantic moment here?"@@ You groan, waving his comment off impatiently. @@.player;"Come on, Luke, be serious for once. Don't they look different? Like, at all?"@@ He chuckles but quickly composes himself when he realizes you're genuinely anxious. @@.luke;"Alright, alright, serious time."@@ He clears his throat dramatically and leans forward, squinting theatrically as if he's inspecting fine art. @@.luke;"Hmm, let's see here. Yep, brown eyes. Two of them. it all checks out."@@ You sigh deeply, irritation slowly bubbling. @@.player;"Luke, come on! They're... bigger, right? Rounder, softer? Something's //definitely// different—are you really telling me you can't see that?"@@ His goofy grin slowly slips as he sees how worried you are. He tilts his head again, this time sincerely focusing. @@.luke;"Actually, now that you say it,"@@ he begins, all humor momentarily put aside. Genuine surprise flickers across his expression as he examines your face. @@.luke;"They're definitely different. It's hard to pinpoint exactly, but they're just a bit larger. Now I can't unsee it."@@ @@.player;"I knew it,"@@ you mumble, your shoulders slumping. @@.player;"I swear they weren't like this before I went in that tent. I thought I was going crazy."@@ Luke gently pats your shoulder, immediately slipping back into his usual, comforting energy. @@.luke;"Hey, if you're going crazy, you're taking me with you. I'd never leave you behind! We can have matching padded rooms."@@ Despite your nerves, you can't help but chuckle. Luke always had a knack for breaking the tension, no matter how serious the situation. @@.luke;"But seriously, how exactly does someone's eyes just get rounder overnight?"@@ Luke asks, eyebrows raised curiously now. @@.luke;"You think it's //really// something supernatural?"@@ @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you say honestly. @@.player;"Maybe it's just stress getting to me. But ever since I passed out after meeting Madame Serena, weird stuff has been happening."@@ Luke runs his hand through his hair thoughtfully, puffing out a dramatic sigh. @@.luke;"Man, why couldn't she have cursed me instead? I've always wanted big anime protagonist eyes,"@@ he teases, nudging you playfully. @@.luke;"You're hogging all the cool curses."@@ @@.player;"You're ridiculous,"@@ you state, laughing despite yourself. @@.luke;"I'm being serious!"@@ Luke insists, his bright smile returning. @@.luke;"If you ever want to hand it over to me, all I'm saying is I'm here."@@ You shake your head, your mood finally lifting slightly thanks to his ridiculous attempts at comfort @@.player;"Thanks, Luke."@@ @@.luke;"Always,"@@ he responds, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. @@.luke;"Even if you suddenly sprouted cat ears and a tail, I'd be right here, man. Probably holding a laser pointer, but still right here."@@ @@.player;"Okay, enough,"@@ you say, pushing him off playfully. <</if>>\ The two of you fall silent as you near the school gates. The building rises ahead, students already wrapped up in the ordinary chaos of yet another day. But for you, it all feels oddly distant, like you don't quite fit in anymore. Luke walks beside you at a slower pace than usual, like he's deliberately keeping things easy. You can tell he's still mulling over what you told him—processing it in that Luke way, where his brain might be confused but his heart's in the right place. Finally, he exhales, glancing toward the entrance. @@.luke;"Well... here we are,"@@ he says, giving you a little smile. @@.luke;"Home sweet stress factory, as they say in Rome."@@ You let out a little huff of a laugh. @@.luke;"Let's get through this day and then talk more about what's going on, alright?"@@ Luke affirms. @@.luke;"Don't worry, $name. Even if you turn into a frog or start glowing or whatever, I'm still gonna hype you up."@@ Despite everything you're going through, you can't help but smile. That's your best friend for you. As weird as things have gotten, you're glad you're not going through it alone. <<button "Go to school" "Day 2 - 5">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-exterior.png"> You pull out your phone and check your class schedule for the millionth time just to make sure you didn't dream it or mix something up. But nope—everything's still there. <table style="margin: 0px auto;"> <tr> <th>Period</th> <th>Class</th> <th>Teacher</th> <th>Classroom</th> </tr> <tr> <td>1</td> <td>English Literature</td> <td>Mr. Alistair Reeds</td> <td>203</td> </tr> <tr> <td>2</td> <td>Physics 2</td> <td>Dr. Tobias Clark</td> <td>306</td> </tr> <tr> <td>3</td> <td>Gym</td> <td>Coach Sarah Blake</td> <td>Gymnasium (101A)</td> </tr> <tr> <td>4</td> <td>Drama</td> <td>Mr. Arthur Bennet</td> <td>107</td> </tr> <tr> <td>5</td> <td>Calculus</td> <td>Ms. Naomi Tanaka</td> <td>204</td> </tr> <tr> <td>6</td> <td>East Asian History</td> <td>Mr. Nathaniel Cross</td> <td>202</td> </tr> <tr> <td>7</td> <td>Art</td> <td>Ms. Sophia Delgado</td> <td>203</td> </tr> <tr> <td>8</td> <td>Spanish</td> <td>Señora Gabriela Morales</td> <td>208</td> </tr> <tr> <td>0</td> <td>Homeroom</td> <td>Ms. Elizabeth Carter</td> <td>101</td> </tr> </table> Your school runs on a block schedule—four classes a day, plus homeroom first thing in the morning. It's supposed to make things easier. Key word is //supposed// to. You're not totally convinced that it works. You glance up from your screen and let out a sigh. It's time to kick off the day. First stop: ''Room 101''. Homeroom with Ms. Carter. You adjust your backpack and start weaving your way through the crowd, hoping today doesn't get too weird. Not like it can even get much weirder. <<button "Go to homeroom" "Day 2 - 6">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> You step into Room 101, and within seconds it's clear that Ms. Carter is //definitely// an English teacher. The room is full of giveaways. A giant poster of Shakespeare stares down at you from one wall, his balding head and ruffled collar judging everyone in the room. There's a bulletin board in the back covered with laminated papers about "The Elements of Plot" and "How to Write a Strong Thesis Statement." You'd honestly be shocked if she //wasn't// an English teacher. A few students are already there, scattered across desks, scrolling on their phones, earbuds in, mentally in another universe. The clock reads 7:58 AM, and there's still no sign of Ms. Carter. You glance around the room, trying to figure out where to sit. You recognize most of the faces—names you know, people you've passed in hallways or shared awkward group projects with—but that's about it. Aside from Samantha and Luke, your two best friends, your circle's always been pretty small. By choice, of course. Still, one person immediately catches your eye—Jessica Sanders. Even sitting alone, she somehow manages to dominate the room. Her long blonde hair is tied up in a perfectly styled high ponytail, a maroon bow perched neatly on top like a crown. A few strands of hair frame her face just right, like they've been placed there on purpose. She's wearing a pink cardigan over a white tee that boldly reads "A little bit dramatic," paired with a high-waisted denim skirt and cherry-shaped earrings that swing slightly every time she moves. She doesn't seem bothered by the fact that she's alone—if anything, she looks like she //chose// to be. One leg crossed over the other, her phone held in one hand, she scrolls with quiet confidence. Hell, even her posture is perfect, like she's aware of the invisible spotlight always on her. No entourage. No nervous glances. Just Jessica. Effortlessly beautiful. Effortlessly cool. You quickly look away, not wanting to have anyone think you're staring. There's no universe where you're brave—or delusional—enough to sit next to her. You find an empty seat closer to the back and slide into it, grateful no one's nearby. You pull off your backpack and set it on the floor just as the door opens. A woman briskly walks in, setting a reusable water bottle down on the desk at the front. She looks to be in her mid-forties, dressed in a cardigan and flats, with the exact kind of energy you'd expect from someone who has already had two coffees this morning. @@.girl;"Good morning, everyone,"@@ she says with a bright, practiced smile. @@.girl;"Sorry for the last-minute entrance—I had some teacher stuff to handle."@@ The students barely acknowledge her presence. A few lift their heads while others just continue to scroll. Ms. Carter claps her hands lightly, motioning for everyone to put their phones away. @@.girl;"There's not much we're doing in homeroom today,"@@ she continues. @@.girl;"Which I know you're all //thrilled// about. But I //am// going to ask each of you to come up and talk to me for a few minutes—just a quick check-in so I can put faces to names and get to know you a little."@@ She takes a long sip from her bottle, then adds with a grin, @@.girl;"The rest of the time is all yours. Chat, scroll, nap—with limits, please. But otherwise, enjoy."@@ There's a collective wave of nods and quiet relief. Some teachers would've filled the hour with busy work or forced icebreaker activities. A few minutes of talking in exchange for almost an hour of free time? Not bad. You glance at your backpack, wondering what to do with yourself. You could scroll your phone like everyone else or actually try and get some work done. It's up to you. <<button "Study" "Day 2 - 7">>\<<set $temp to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Browse your socials" "Day 2 - 7">>\<<set $temp to false>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> <<if $temp is true>>\ <<set $study to Math.clamp($study + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You sigh quietly and pull out your laptop and a battered notebook from your backpack. You decide to go for some literary analysis to improve your English. At first, the words blur together, but once you get going, it's a lot easier to focus. The minutes crawl by, slow and steady, but at least you're being productive. Eventually, Ms. Carter calls your name. @@.girl;"Mr. $name Yoon? Come on up, please."@@ You close your laptop and press your palm over the lid to make sure it's completely shut. You walk up to the front of the room and take a seat across from her. She smiles warmly. @@.girl;"Quite studious, huh? Everyone else is refreshing their feeds, but you've got a whole analysis pulled up."@@ You chuckle a little. @@.player;"I try."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You decide to take a break. You scroll through Instagram, double-tapping a few posts, leaving some comments, maybe lurking on a classmate's story for a little too long. Studying would've been the responsible move, sure, but your brain's still waking up and this is a lot easier. Time flies faster than you expected. @@.girl;"Mr. $name Yoon? Come on up, please."@@ You quickly lock your phone, slide it into your pocket, and walk up to the front of the room. You sit down across from Ms. Carter, who gives you a knowing smile. @@.girl;"I see someone made the most of their screen time,"@@ she says. @@.player;"I can't lie, it was a pretty solid way to pass the hour,"@@ you respond. <</if>>\ She nods, folding her hands together on the desk. @@.girl;"Well, I just wanted to get a sense of who everyone is outside of test scores and attendance sheets. So, $name—tell me a little about yourself. What do you enjoy doing in your free time?"@@ Her tone is friendly, patient, and genuine. The kind that shows you that she actually wants to know about you. That she's not just doing this to check off a box. <div class="note">\ <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ This is an opportunity to boost one of your stats by a significant amount! </div>\ <<button "I like to read" "Day 2 - 8">>\<<set $hobby to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "I like to play basketball" "Day 2 - 8">>\<<set $hobby to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "I like to talk to friends" "Day 2 - 8">>\<<set $hobby to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "I like to browse social media" "Day 2 - 8">>\<<set $hobby to 3>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> <<if $hobby is 0>>\ <<set $study to Math.clamp($study + 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I mean, I guess I like to read,"@@ you say, a little shyly. You almost regret the words the moment they leave your mouth—it sounds like you're sucking up. Especially with Ms. Carter being an English teacher. But you genuinely mean what you said. Reading has always been something you've enjoyed, even if you don't talk about it much. Her eyes light up. @@.girl;"Oh, I //love// that,"@@ she says, clearly pleased. @@.girl;"You'd be surprised just how rare it is for students to say that unprompted."@@ You offer her a small smile. @@.player;"Yeah, I know it's not the most exciting thing in the world, but... I don't know, it helps me get out of my head sometimes."@@ @@.girl;"Well said,"@@ she nods, folding her hands together. @@.girl;"So, what's your favorite book or series?"@@ You think for a moment before deciding. @@.player;"I've always been into //A Song of Ice and Fire//."@@ Ms. Carter lets out a nostalgic sigh. @@.girl;"Such a brilliant series. It's dense, complex, full of flawed characters and moral gray areas... I have to say I loved the political scheming more than the dragons, though."@@ @@.player;"Same,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"Though I kinda doubt it'll ever be finished."@@ She laughs with you, though there //is// a trace of sadness in it. @@.girl;"Yeah, I've made my peace with it years ago. Still, it's something special. If you like stories like that, I can recommend a few books you might love."@@ @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you ask, eyebrows lifting. @@.player;"I'd appreciate that."@@ She smiles. @@.girl;"I'll write some down for you later."@@ <<elseif $hobby is 1>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I do play basketball sometimes,"@@ you say with a small shrug. @@.player;"It's all just for fun, though. Nothing serious."@@ Ms. Carter tilts her head slightly, interested. @@.girl;"Oh? That's great. Though... it is a shame that our school doesn't have a team."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Kinda feels like football gets all the love at Pacific Crest."@@ @@.girl;"That's usually how it goes,"@@ she agrees with a sympathetic smile. @@.girl;"It's unfortunate, really. Basketball is a beautiful sport. Fast-paced, tactical. Very poetic in its own way."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Poetic?"@@ @@.girl;"What?"@@ she asks, grinning. @@.girl;"I'm an English teacher—I see poetry in everything."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Fair enough. Even if we //did// have a team, I doubt I'd make it. I'm not exactly NBA material."@@ @@.girl;"Well, you never know what you're capable of unless you try,"@@ she says, her voice soft but encouraging. @@.girl;"Some of the best players didn't start out strong—they just refused to give up."@@ You nod slowly. Maybe Ms. Carter is right. Maybe it doesn't have to be about being great, but rather about doing it because you love it. <<elseif $hobby is 2>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social + 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I guess... I spend a lot of time with friends,"@@ you say, feeling slightly unsure. @@.player;"Talking, hanging out. Just... being around people, I guess."@@ Ms. Carter smiles knowingly. @@.girl;"That absolutely counts. We're social creatures, after all. Connecting with people is one of the healthiest things you can do for your mind."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I guess it helps me feel normal,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"Especially lately."@@ She chuckles softly. @@.girl;"Same here. You'd be surprised how much time teachers spend chatting in the break room just to decompress. Teaching really can be isolating if you let it be."@@ @@.player;"That makes sense."@@ @@.girl;"I still talk to my high school friends, actually,"@@ she adds. @@.girl;"Not all of them, of course. But the good ones... they //really// stick. Make sure you hold onto yours."@@ You think of Luke and Samantha before nodding. @@.player;"Yeah. I will."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity + 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Well... I kind of just browse social media a lot, to be honest,"@@ you admit, feeling immediately self-conscious. @@.player;"Nothing special. Instagram, TikTok, stuff like that."@@ To your surprise, Ms. Carter doesn't laugh or look disappointed. Instead, she nods like she //gets// it. @@.girl;"You're not alone,"@@ she says, smiling. @@.girl;"Social media can be a great way to stay connected and feel like part of a community—even if you're just lurking."@@ You chuckle, easing up a little. @@.player;"Yeah, I'll open one app to check something and then realize an hour went by and I watched, like, a hundred videos I don't even remember."@@ @@.girl;"That sounds exactly like me,"@@ she says, laughing. @@.girl;"Honestly, half the time I get on to answer one message, and suddenly I'm watching a dog rescue reel and crying."@@ The tension slips away as you both laugh. Maybe your answer wasn't as lame as you thought. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"Well, back to the topic, I just wanted to take a little time to get to know each of my homeroom students,"@@ Ms. Carter says warmly. @@.girl;"We'll be seeing a lot of each other this year, and I think it makes things nicer when we're not total strangers."@@ You shift slightly, giving her a modest shrug. @@.player;"I mean... I'm not really that interesting though."@@ The words come out casually, but you realize you mean them. You've always thought of yourself as the definition of average. Nothing special. You weren't the star athlete, or the genius, or the class clown. If someone tried to write a book about your life, it'd probably end up gathering dust on the shelf. She gives you a look—gentle, but firm. @@.girl;"$name, that's nonsense. Everyone's interesting in their own way. Sometimes it just takes the right person asking the right questions."@@ You glance up at her, surprised by how sincere she sounds. She doesn't say it like a teacher trying to be encouraging. She says it like someone who genuinely believes it. Before you even know it, the conversation flows easier. She asks about your classes, your interests, and what you're hoping to do after high school. You're a little awkward at first, but Ms. Carter is surprisingly easy to talk to—calm, attentive, and sharp enough to pick up on your nerves without pointing them out. Time passes quicker than you expected. Eventually, she glances at the clock and begins to wrap things up. @@.girl;"Alright, I'll let you get back to what you were doing."@@ <<if $d2brushedHair is true>>\ Then she pauses, her eyes catching on your hair. @@.girl;"You have really lovely hair, $name,"@@ she says with a warm smile. @@.girl;"Very smooth."@@ You blink, caught off guard by the compliment. @@.player;"Oh, uh... thanks."@@ It takes a second before the full weight of it hits you. That's exactly what's been bothering you lately—your hair. The very thing you've been obsessing over. <<else>>\ Then she pauses, her eyes catching on your hair. @@.girl;"You have really nice eyes, $name,"@@ she says with a warm smile. @@.girl;"Very expressive."@@ You blink, caught off guard by the compliment. @@.player;"Oh, uh... thanks."@@ It takes a second before the full weight of it hits you. That's exactly what's been bothering you lately—your eyes. The very thing you've been obsessing over. <</if>>\ You smile politely and stand to return to your seat, but your mind's already racing. Coincidence? Maybe. But it feels like another small nudge. Another clue that something really //is// changing. <<button "Continue with school" "Day 2 - 9">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> You step into the school cafeteria, the familiar buzz of chatter and clatter of trays greeting you as you make your way through the crowd. The scent of questionable cafeteria food lingers in the air—some kind of greasy pizza today, by the smell of it. You grab a tray from the lunch line and wait until you get your own slice of Pacific Crest's microwaved pizza. You spot Luke and Samantha already seated at your usual table, eating their meals and deep in conversation. @@.player;"Hey guys,"@@ you say, weaving through a few crowded tables before setting your tray down and dropping into the seat next to Luke. Luke gives you a quick nod between bites. @@.luke;"Yo."@@ Samantha looks up a second later. @@.samantha;"Hey, $name."@@ Then she pauses. Her eyes narrow just slightly—not in a mean way, but in that hyper-observant, scanning kind of way. Her lips press together like she's trying to figure something out. A beat of silence passes, just long enough to make you glance up. @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.player;"Did I get pizza sauce on my face?"@@ @@.samantha;"No..."@@ she says slowly, tilting her head a little. @@.samantha;"You just look a little different today."@@ You freeze for a second. @@.player;"Different how, exactly?"@@ She shrugs, but her eyes are still locked on you, studying your face like a puzzle she's halfway through solving. @@.samantha;"I don't know. It's subtle. Your... I don't know, something's softer."@@ Luke finally looks up from his fries, squinting at you with mild curiosity. @@.luke;"Really? I don't see it."@@ <<if $d2tell is true>>\ Did he forget already? <</if>>\ \ @@.samantha;"Of course you don't,"@@ Samantha mutters with a sigh. @@.samantha;"Boys, I swear."@@ <<if $d2brushedHair is true>>\ Her eyes flick up to your hair. @@.samantha;"Okay, wait, I got it—your hair. That's part of it. Did you style it this morning or something? It looks very clean. And your eyes too! They're... brighter? Rounder?"@@ She leans in dramatically, squinting at you. @@.samantha;"Did you secretly get plastic surgery overnight and just not tell us? This is //very// suspicious behavior, $name."@@ <<else>>\ She squints more deliberately. @@.samantha;"No, seriously—your eyes. They're bigger, rounder than usual. I've known your face for years, $name. Don't play coy with me. Did you get surgery? Contacts? Anime eye drops?"@@ She says it playfully, but her brow is furrowed. She's definitely not imagining it. <</if>>\ <<if $d2tell is true>>\ Luke speaks up before you can even open your mouth. @@.luke;"Well, $name thinks the lady in the tent cursed him! He told me about it this morning."@@ You shoot him a look. @@.player;"Dude—maybe lead into that a little slower?"@@ @@.samantha;"What the hell, a //curse//?"@@ she asks, skeptical but clearly interested. @@.samantha;"Seriously?"@@ <<if $d2brushedHair is true>>\ Samantha blinks, then narrows her eyes. @@.samantha;"Okay, but cursed how? Because if you're about to say she cursed you to look better, I'm gonna need a minute to roll my eyes."@@ You sigh, brushing your fingers through your hair. @@.player;"Look—I brushed my hair this morning, and it literally changed. Like something weird happened. Now it's silkier and smoother. My eyes changed yesterday too. You noticed it yourself."@@ Samantha crosses her arms. @@.samantha;"So let me get this straight—you're cursed, and the curse is turning you into... a version where you actually use conditioner?"@@ @@.player;"I'm serious."@@ Luke leans in, his eyes wide, clearly invested. @@.luke;"No, but like—it could be real. What if it's some magical makeover thing?"@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"So what, next week he sprouts wings and starts glowing?"@@ @@.luke;"I mean, if that happens, I'm calling dibs on being his sidekick,"@@ Luke says, grinning. @@.luke;"But seriously, $name, if you're freaked out—we've got your back."@@ <<else>>\ You exhale and point to your face. @@.player;"Just—look at my eyes. They're bigger, rounder. Something changed after I passed out. Madame Serena said a bunch of cryptic shit too. It wasn't just fortune teller nonsense, trust me. It felt... weird."@@ Samantha squints, resting her chin in her hand. @@.samantha;"Right. So instead of giving you a cheesy future prediction, she gave you anime eyes. Totally normal."@@ @@.player;"I'm not saying I have all the answers,"@@ you mutter, @@.player;"but I //know// something changed. And nothing can really explain it."@@ Luke's brows draw together, his voice softer now. @@.luke;"Hey, it is weird. If you're worried, we'll help figure it out. I mean, maybe it's not a curse or anything, but still—you shouldn't go through it alone."@@ He claps a hand on your shoulder with a grin. @@.luke;"Plus, I like adventure stuff."@@ @@.samantha;"You like cartoons about talking dogs solving mysteries,"@@ Samantha says dryly. @@.luke;"Exactly!"@@ Luke beams. <</if>>\ @@.player;"Okay, so, we check out the Autumn Festival after school?"@@ Samantha rolls her eyes, but there's a flicker of a smile underneath. @@.samantha;"Fine. But if we end up summoning a ghost, you're on your own."@@ @@.player;"You know what, that's a deal,"@@ you reply, chuckling. And just like that, your little trio falls back into the rhythm of teasing and inside jokes. But even as you join in, part of your mind stays focused on one thing. You're going to find Madame Serena. Whatever's happening—this is just the beginning. <<button "Investigate with your friends after school" "Day 2 - 10 - Friends">><</button>> <<else>>\ Luke tilts his head, looking at you more closely now. @@.luke;"Wait... is that why you asked me about your face this morning?"@@ he asks, eyes narrowing in curiosity. @@.luke;"You were acting kinda weird."@@ Your mind scrambles for something—//anything//—to cover your tracks. @@.player;"Uhh..."@@ You scratch the back of your neck, trying to play it cool. @@.player;"Nah, it's nothing like that. I've just been, y'know, trying to take better care of myself lately. Little self-improvement arc for me."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Wow. $name Yoon, finally discovering skin care and brushing his hair. Stop the presses."@@ @@.player;"It's not like you take care of your appearance much either,"@@ you shoot back. @@.player;"I don't see you with makeup on."@@ Samantha gasps theatrically. @@.samantha;"Excuse you—I don't need makeup to look good. I'm just lazy, okay? It's called natural charm."@@ Luke laughs, completely delighted by the back-and-forth. @@.luke;"You guys are my favorite sitcom, you know that?"@@ he says. Despite the jokes flying, you're grateful the topic of your appearance is shifting. The change in your eyes, the gut feeling that something's off—it's still there, heavy in the back of your mind. But for now, you're not ready to say it out loud. You laugh along with them, falling into the rhythm of casual banter. Samantha is back to teasing Luke for not knowing how to fold a hoodie properly, and Luke's trying to convince you both that ketchup belongs on eggs. Still, under the surface, your thoughts are racing. The moment the final bell rings, you'll be on your way back to the Autumn Festival. Alone. You ''need'' answers. <<button "Investigate by yourself after school" "Day 2 - 10 - Solo">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/autumn-festival.png"> <<if $temp is 0>>\ <<if $athleticism > 59>>\ You let out a dramatic sigh, slouching your shoulders and putting on your best defeated face. The ticket guy barely gives you a glance as he shifts his attention to the next group of people. And then—you bolt. You spring past the booth like it's a finish line, your feet hitting the pavement fast and light. The guy calls out behind you, but by the time he registers what just happened, you're already weaving through the crowd. You duck behind a cotton candy stand, then slip between two photo booths. A quick glance over your shoulder tells you he's still looking around, but not moving anymore. After a minute or so, he throws up his hands and turns back to his post. You smirk to yourself, heart pounding with adrenaline and satisfaction. Guess those years of running drills in gym paid off after all. <<else>>\ <<set $money -= 20>>\ You sigh loudly, making it look like you're giving up—then suddenly make a break for it. Or... //try// to. You only make it a few steps before a massive arm extends across your chest and stops you like a steel bar. The guy barely moves, just lets out a short laugh as he grabs you by the shoulder. @@.boy;"Nice try, kid,"@@ he says with a grin. @@.boy;"But you're gonna need a //lot// more cardio before you pull that off."@@ You flush red, your pride bruised more than your body. You nod sheepishly and shuffle back to the booth. So much for being slick. There, you fork over another twenty bucks with a groan. The vendor hands you a new slip of paper—this one marked with the date: ''September 24, 2024''. All that, just to replace a piece of paper with another. Your bank account is emptier and your ego's dented, but at least you're in. <</if>>\ <<elseif $temp is 1>>\ <<if $social > 59>>\ You don't panic—you //pivot//. @@.player;"Okay, listen,"@@ you start, voice low and serious. @@.player;"I passed out here yesterday. And I think I dropped my necklace somewhere—silver, with a little lion pendant? My grandpa gave it to me before he passed. It's the last thing I really have to remember him by."@@ A ''total'' lie. You don't even own a necklace, let alone a grandpa who's handing out sentimental heirlooms. But your voice sounds real and your expression is convincing. You even throw in a little desperation, just for good measure. The man frowns, his crossed arms loosening slightly. @@.boy;"Oh... that was //you//? Yeah, I heard someone fainted near the tent. You okay?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, mostly. I'm just worried I lost it somewhere near one of the booths."@@ He hesitates before nodding. @@.boy;"Alright then, go on ahead. Just try to be quick, alright?"@@ You nod, trying not to let your grin show until your back is fully to him. You walk past the gates like you've done nothing wrong. Smooth. <<else>>\ <<set $money -= 20>>\ You fumble through the words, trying to throw something together on the spot. @@.player;"Uh, hey. I, uh, passed out here yesterday and... like, I left... something? Maybe? Can I just... get in?"@@ The guy doesn't even blink. @@.boy;"Yeah, nice try,"@@ he says flatly, gesturing to the ticket line. @@.boy;"Come back when you've got twenty bucks like everyone else."@@ You curse your terrible improvisational skills under your breath and retreat. Another twenty gone. Another paper slip—''September 24, 2024''. Great. You pocket the ticket and walk in with your head down, trying to pretend you haven't just publicly embarrassed yourself. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $money -= 20>>\ You don't try to bluff or sneak in. There's no point, after all. You just sigh and resign yourself to the inevitable. You get another ticket after twenty dollars leaves your bank account. ''September 24, 2024.'' Same festival. New date. Same empty wallet. You tuck the ticket away and walk through the entrance, determined not to let the price tag ruin your focus. You're here for answers, after all. <</if>>\ <<button "Go find Madame Serena" "Day 2 - 11 - Solo">><</button>>

The Academic Club Do you love a good challenge? Want to flex your mental muscles and show off your knowledge? Then the Academic Club is perfect for you! We're about teamwork, competition, and having a blast while becoming the smartest version of yourself. We compete in quizzes and academic challenges against other schools, study a wide range of topics, work together as a team in competitions, and prepare for a regional showdown that can take us to further contests! It doesn't matter what subject you're passionate about, there's a spot for you here. Not only that, you'll make awesome friends who share your love for learning. This is in addition to the fact that this will be a significant boost to your college application. Join the Academic Club! Brains aren't just for school, they're for winning too! <<button "Return" "Day 3 - 3">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 3>>\ <<set $top to 0>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ The piercing blare of your alarm shocks you back into the world of the living, dragging you away from sleep. With a groan, you swing your legs over the edge of your bed, blinking groggily at the morning light. Another day and another round of pretending you're not cursed. You pull yourself together with your usual routine—shower, toothbrush, clean clothes, and your backpack. By the time you make it to the dining room, the scent of warm eggs and toast lingers faintly in the air. Your mom is seated at the table, sipping something, probably coffee, from a mug. Across the room, Lily is rinsing her plate in the sink, clearly just finishing up breakfast. She's wearing one of her many oversized hoodies and pajama pants, her wolfcut surprisingly not a mess for once. It actually looks really clean... You grin mischievously. Just as she turns to leave the kitchen, you grab her in a quick headlock and noogie her with expert older-sibling precision. Not hard enough to hurt, you'd never do that, but enough to ruffle her hair into total disarray. @@.lily;"Hey! My hair!"@@ Lily shrieks like you just committed a federal offense. She wiggles free and sprints to the hallway mirror, staring at her reflection in abject horror. @@.lily;"$name! You //ruined// it!"@@ You put on your most innocent face. @@.player;"Did I?"@@ you say sweetly. @@.player;"It was just a friendly pat on the head."@@ @@.lily;"That was //not// a head pat!"@@ she snaps, whipping around to glare at you. She whirls to your mom like a lawyer presenting her case. @@.lily;"Moooom! $name noogied me! He messed up my hair!"@@ You raise your hands in mock surrender, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. @@.player;"I plead not guilty. That was a loving gesture between siblings."@@ Your mom lowers her mug with a loud exhale. @@.girl;"It is //way// too early for this nonsense,"@@ she mutters. @@.girl;"$name, don't noogie your sister. Lily, go fix your hair."@@ @@.lily;"But he—ugh, fine."@@ Lily storms off toward the bathroom, muttering something about sibling abuse and hair crimes. @@.player;"Sorry, Lily!"@@ you yell, barely keeping yourself from laughing. @@.player;"Guess I'll head out now."@@ @@.lily;"Die!"@@ she yells after you, still not over it. @@.girl;"Lily,"@@ your mom warns. @@.lily;"I meant in Roblox!"@@ You step out the door with a grin tugging at your lips. Sure, she might act like she hates you, but it's all part of the job. Being the older sibling comes with certain privileges, and noogies were most definitely one of them. <<button "Go to school" "Day 3 - 2">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-locker.png"> <<set $vincentMeetingCG to true>>\ <<set $vincentCGhair to 0>>\ <<set $vincentCGeyes to 1>>\ <<if $hairProg is 2>>\ <<set $vincentCGhair to 2>>\ <<elseif $hairProg is 3>>\ <<set $vincentCGhair to 3>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $eyesProg is 2 or $eyesProg is 3>>\ <<set $vincentCGeyes to 2>>\ <</if>>\ <<grantAchievement "MeetVincent">>\ @@.player;"Hey, knock it off,"@@ you say, louder than you meant to. Your voice bounces off the brick walls of the locker room, and both guys pause mid-laugh. You square your shoulders a little, trying to sound more confident than you feel. @@.player;"Seriously. Don't talk about her like that."@@ The tall one turns, eyebrows raised in shock. @@.boy;"Oh? What, are you her bodyguard now?"@@ he says, a slimy grin spreading across his face. @@.boy;"Gonna duel me in the name of love?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you snap. @@.player;"I'm not a creep. Maybe try not being the loudest asshole in the room for once."@@ That shuts them up. For a second, it looks like they're going to say something else—maybe throw a cheap insult your way—but instead, they exchange a glance, snort, and wander off toward the other end of the locker room. You feel the tension in your shoulders ease just slightly. You're not sure what would've happened if they actually pushed things. You definitely wouldn't have won any fight. You exhale and pull your shirt over your head—when a soft voice speaks up beside you. @@.vincent;"That was... really well said."@@ <<include "CG_VincentMeeting">>\ You glance to your side and spot him—shorter than you, maybe 5'7", with messy hair and a pair of oversized glasses perched on his nose. His backpack's a little too full, and you can see he's hugging a beat-up copy of //Guns, Germs, and Steel// like it's a security blanket. @@.vincent;"I don't think I've ever seen anyone shut those guys up like that,"@@ he adds, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. @@.vincent;"Especially not without throwing a punch or causing a scene."@@ You blink, still catching up. @@.player;"Uh. Thanks, I guess."@@ He offers you a small nod. @@.vincent;"Vincent. Some people call me Vinny. You don't have to—I don't really mind either way. Just figured I should say something since, you know, it's rare to see someone take the high ground. Or any ground, really."@@ @@.player;"Hey, Vincent,"@@ you say, the name sounding more familiar now. You've definitely seen him around—sitting near the front in history, always scribbling in the margins of his notes, occasionally raising his hand to drop an oddly specific fact no one else knew. @@.vincent;"I've wanted to say something to those guys before,"@@ he says, adjusting the strap on his backpack. @@.vincent;"But I kind of... seize up when stuff actually happens. Like, I'll think of the perfect line or comeback while brushing my teeth later that night. What a useless superpower."@@ @@.player;"Hey, it's better than being like me,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.player;"I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind."@@ @@.vincent;"No way,"@@ he says, shaking his head. @@.vincent;"I think you did the right thing. People like that—they run on performance, right? They say something awful, and they're counting on everyone pretending it's normal. Like it's a whole social script. Dominance theater. You saying anything—even just calling it out—breaks the illusion. It throws them off. Like pulling the curtain back on a really bad magician."@@ You glance at him. He doesn't say it like he's trying to impress you. It seems like he just... thinks like that. Smart and thoughtful. Kind of funny, too. Maybe getting to know him wouldn't be such a bad thing. <<button "Go to class" "Day 3 - 11">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gymd.png"> <<set $top to 10>>\ You head into gym class with a quiet sigh. Coach Blake stands in front of the bleachers, whistle hanging from her neck like a warning. As soon as the last straggler enters, she lets it rip. @@.girl;"Alright, listen up!"@@ she calls out, commanding the room with that no-nonsense tone she's famous for. @@.girl;"Today, we're playing pickleball. If you don't know what that is, you'll figure it out. Find a partner—quickly—or I'll assign one for you."@@ The gym erupts into movement as everyone scrambles to pair off. People click into their usual friend groups without hesitation, and within seconds the room has changed. Everyone is in little pods of two, laughing or stretching. Everyone except you. You stand there awkwardly, glancing from face to face. You don't know many people in this class, not enough to partner up without it feeling forced. You look around, half-hoping someone will make eye contact and invite you—but no one does. Just as you start to wonder if Coach Blake is going to throw you in with one of the overly competitive football guys, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. You turn and find Vincent standing there, already holding a paddle in one hand. @@.vincent;"Hey,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Wanna team up?"@@ His tone is casual, like it's no big deal, but the way he fiddles with the strap of his watch with his free hand says otherwise. His glasses are slightly fogged from the humidity and his hair's just as messy as it was earlier. @@.vincent;"I don't exactly have a long list of gym partners,"@@ he adds with a sheepish smile. @@.vincent;"Figured I'd shoot my shot before Coach sticks me with one of the guys who thinks this is the Olympic trials."@@ You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. @@.player;"Yeah, sure. I'd like that."@@ @@.vincent;"Cool,"@@ Vincent says, smile growing just a bit. @@.vincent;"Thanks—for not leaving me to the wolves."@@ As you both head over to one of the empty courts, you glance over. @@.player;"So... are you any good at this?"@@ Vincent snorts softly. @@.vincent;"I once pulled a muscle trying to catch a frisbee, so that should give you a baseline."@@ @@.player;"Sounds promising,"@@ you respond. @@.vincent;"Hey, I'm not //totally// hopeless,"@@ he says, acting offended. @@.vincent;"I've got solid hand-eye coordination. I just... prefer it when the stakes are academic. Or fictional."@@ @@.player;"So, what you're saying is that you're a danger in a debate, but a liability on the court."@@ @@.vincent;"You get it!"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Let's just aim for not-last."@@ The two of you claim an empty section of the court, each of you gripping your paddle with the hesitancy of someone holding an alien object. @@.player;"So... how hard do you think this is supposed to be?"@@ you ask. Vincent shrugs. @@.vincent;"It's basically tiny tennis, right? How bad can it possibly be?"@@ Answer: pretty bad. The first few attempts are an absolute mess—missed swings, awkward footwork, a few balls that bounce nowhere near the net. But after a few minutes, you both manage a rally or two. @@.vincent;"Okay, okay,"@@ Vincent says between breaths. @@.vincent;"I think I've achieved... basic competence."@@ @@.player;"You mean you stopped swinging like you're swatting a bug?"@@ @@.vincent;"I prefer to think of it as chaotic neutral athleticism,"@@ he grins. You're both laughing when you return to the main group. Luckily just in time, as Coach Blake blows on her whistle again to get everyone's attention. @@.girl;"Alright, now that you've all had a few minutes to stop embarrassing yourselves, it's time to play for real,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"We're doing two-on-two. I'll call the pairs. Try not to injure each other."@@ You and Vincent have barely gotten used to how the paddles feel in your hands, so the idea of a full game is... less than ideal. @@.vincent;"Great,"@@ Vincent mutters beside you. @@.vincent;"I've just now figured out how to hit the ball without it ricocheting around the gym. We're totally qualified for this."@@ @@.player;"Just aim for not embarrassing ourselves,"@@ you reply. @@.vincent;"I already lowered the bar to not requiring medical attention,"@@ he states. Coach Blake starts rattling off names. As soon as you hear who you're playing against, your stomach sinks. Of course. Of //course//. You and Vincent are up against the same two guys from the locker room. The universe really has a sense of humor, huh? @@.boy;"Hey,"@@ says the shorter one, lips curled into a smirk. @@.boy;"Figures we'd end up against you."@@ His eyes flick to Vincent. @@.boy;"Didn't know it was bring-your-lab-partner-to-gym day."@@ The two of them snicker like they've just dropped the funniest line of the century. Vincent doesn't flinch. @@.vincent;"I guess we've resorted to playground insults."@@ You don't bother saying anything. You're already gripping the paddle tighter than necessary. The game starts, and it's clear from the first rally that neither team is going down easily. The tall guy has a reach that makes every lob feel like a gamble, and his friend actually knows how to play—not well, of course, but enough to be a problem. You and Vincent fumble through a few points but start getting into a rhythm, finding little windows to return the ball cleanly. It's tense, but you end up pleasantly surprised when the score creeps up evenly. Point for point. You might actually have a shot at this. ''Match point.'' Vincent's breathing hard, brow furrowed in focus. @@.vincent;"Okay, one more,"@@ he mumbles. @@.vincent;"One more and we get to not lose."@@ The ball soars toward you—low, fast, and a little off-center. You don't have time to think. It's now or never. <<if $athleticism > 59>>\ <<button "Hit it confidently, you can do this!" "Day 3 - 12">>\<<set $d3pickleball to true>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Just do your best" "Day 3 - 12">>\<<set $d3rng to random(0, 1)>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/school-gymd.png"> <<if $d3rng isnot undefined>>\ <<notify>>Random number generated, $d3rng!<</notify>>\ <<if $d3rng is 0>>\ You lunge for it—paddle angled, feet scrambling, and every muscle screaming //just one good hit//. You swing. And... the shot goes wide. Too wide. The ball sails out of bounds, skimming the line by a few inches before landing on the floor with a dull //thwack//. ''Game over.'' @@.boy;"Let's go!"@@ one of the guys hoots. @@.boy;"Told you we'd crush you."@@ You're still frozen in place, heart racing, your breath coming out in short, frustrated bursts. That was it. Match point. Gone. Vincent jogs over, shaking his head with a grin. @@.vincent;"Okay. I know we lost. But c'mon, that wasn't half bad."@@ @@.player;"'Not half bad' still means we lost,"@@ you mutter, staring at the spot where the ball landed. @@.vincent;"Sure, but we held our own,"@@ he replies, adjusting his glasses. @@.vincent;"Against //those// two? That's basically a moral victory."@@ One of the guys walks past and throws in a parting shot: @@.boy;"Better luck next time."@@ You ignore him. Barely. Vincent raises an eyebrow. @@.vincent;"Didn't know losing to two guys who peak in high school was this character-building."@@ @@.player;"Guess we'll get 'em next time,"@@ you say, cracking a tired smile. @@.vincent;"Or we could avoid all future gym classes,"@@ Vincent ponders. @@.vincent;"Join a chess club. Fake an injury. The options are endless."@@ Despite the loss, you can't help but laugh—you're still glad you didn't back down. <<elseif $d3rng is 1>>\ <<set $d3pickleball to true>>\ You lunge for it—your paddle poised as your feet slide on the court. The ball comes at you fast, way faster than you're ready for. But somehow, your instincts kick in. You twist your wrist, angle the paddle, and make contact. //Whap.// The ball cuts through the air—low, sharp, and right past the tall guy's outstretched arm. It bounces once on their side and then again before either of them can move. Point. Game. You blink, stunned for a second. Vincent stares for a few moments. Then his eyes go wide behind his crooked glasses. @@.vincent;"Wait. Did we just win?"@@ @@.player;"We won,"@@ you say, still catching your breath. Vincent lets out an incredulous laugh and throws his arms up. @@.vincent;"Let's go! That was clutch!"@@ The two guys on the other side just stand there, completely dumbfounded. The tall one scowls, while his buddy mutters something under his breath. @@.boy;"You've got to be kidding me,"@@ the tall one groans. @@.boy;"You beat us with //Vincent//?"@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ Vincent says brightly, adjusting his glasses. @@.vincent;"Weird, huh? Almost like you shouldn't underestimate people."@@ They grumble and slink off while you and Vincent celebrate. @@.vincent;"Okay,"@@ Vincent says, his voice breathless but proud. @@.vincent;"I'm gonna be riding that high for like... the rest of the semester."@@ You laugh, still in disbelief. @@.player;"That was pure luck."@@ Vincent shrugs. @@.vincent;"Sometimes, luck's all you need."@@ You can't help but grin. A win is a win, and it feels pretty damn good. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ The ball rockets toward you—a fast, low shot that would've thrown off just about anyone else. But not you. You pivot, knees bent, paddle gripped tight. In one fluid motion, you step forward and meet the ball with a precise backhand. It flies right past the tall guy's reach, skimming the corner of the court before bouncing out of bounds. Match point. Game over. The court falls silent for a second—then Vincent lets out a wild, breathless cheer beside you. @@.vincent;"Holy crap, that was beautiful!"@@ he laughs, pushing his glasses up. @@.vincent;"That return was textbook. Like, if there was a textbook for that—I'd highlight the //hell// out of it."@@ You grin, your breath still steady despite the game. @@.player;"Guess exercise paid off."@@ The two guys on the opposing team are not nearly as pleased. @@.boy;"You've //got// to be kidding me,"@@ the tall one mutters, raking a hand through his sweat-damp hair. @@.boy;"You two?"@@ @@.vincent;"You lost to a nerd and a guy with great reflexes,"@@ Vincent says matter-of-factly, still panting. @@.vincent;"Sucks, doesn't it?"@@ The tall guy scowls and turns away, grumbling under his breath about something. His friend follows, throwing a glare over his shoulder as they stomp off to sulk somewhere else. Vincent turns to you, eyes shining. @@.vincent;"You know, I thought I was going to have a heart attack throughout that second half, but that was awesome."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"it was."@@ You can't help but grin. A win is a win, and it feels pretty damn good. <</if>>\ <<button "Finish up school" "Day 3 - 13">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-livingroomd.png"> <<set $top to 0>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ You make your way home after school, your backpack slung low and your steps dragging a bit from the long day. There's nothing else on your schedule for once—no festival or mysterious seer—just the freedom of your own bed and maybe some mindless scrolling. As you approach your front door, you spot Lily rounding the corner from the opposite direction. Your schools are on totally different ends of the city, a cruel design choice clearly made by someone who hated families. @@.player;"Hey, twerp,"@@ you say casually, not even turning your head as you fish out your keys. She doesn't miss a beat. @@.lily;"Don't even start."@@ @@.player;"Didn't start. Just making a simple observation,"@@ you reply. She rolls her eyes and walks a little faster to cut ahead of you. @@.lily;"Move. You take forever to unlock the door."@@ You nudge her with your elbow. She elbows you back, harder. That turns into light shoves as the both of you try to get to the door first. By the time you both step into the house—shoes kicked off and backpacks dropped—you're still bickering. Then you both stop short at the sight of someone unexpected in the living room. Your dad. He's still dressed in his usual business attire, but his tie is loosened and his laptop is closed for once. He's sitting on the couch, actually sitting, like a normal person. Not pacing on a phone call or glued to his emails. Just... present. @@.player;"Dad?"@@ you say slowly, like you're unsure whether he's a hologram. @@.player;"You're not at work?"@@ @@.lily;"Yeah,"@@ Lily chimes in with the same tone of disbelief, tilting her head. @@.lily;"Aren't you supposed to be, like, in Shanghai or something?"@@ Your dad chuckles, running a tired hand through his hair. @@.boy;"Not today, apparently."@@ He leans back against the couch with a sigh, one that sounds like it's been building up for a while. @@.boy;"I've been thinking lately—about how much time I've missed. With both of you."@@ You exchange a glance with Lily. @@.boy;"I've been working too much,"@@ he continues. @@.boy;"I know that. I thought if I just earned a little more, climbed a little higher, it would all be worth it. But now your senior year's here, and it hit me: I've been blinking through your childhood."@@ There's a weight to his words. He's always been distant, always buried under a never-ending barrage of conferences and projects. You're not used to this version of him—the one who sounds like he regretted things. @@.boy;"So,"@@ he says, sitting up straighter. @@.boy;"I've talked to my boss. I'm pulling back this year. Fewer hours. No more business trips. I want to be here before college comes and the house gets quiet."@@ Lily flops onto the armrest next to him, eyes wide. @@.lily;"So what, you're going to, like, make us breakfast now or something?"@@ @@.boy;"Don't push your luck,"@@ he says, smirking. @@.boy;"But I was thinking... maybe we celebrate. Go out for ice cream? just the three of us."@@ You blink, taken aback. You can't remember the last time the three of you did something like that together—maybe when you were eleven? It's been years since he's even suggested something that didn't involve a calendar invite. @@.lily;"I mean, I was gonna hop on Roblox,"@@ Lily mutters, clearly tempted. @@.lily;"But I //guess// I can get a scoop."@@ You laugh, shaking your head. @@.player;"Yeah. I'll come too."@@ This seems to be your dad's version of saying sorry. Of trying to start over. And honestly? That's worth a cone. <<button "Go get ice cream" "Day 3 - 14">><</button>>

The small bell above the ice cream parlor door jingles as the three of you step inside. A blast of cold air hits your face, followed by the scent of sugar, cream, and waffle cones. The place has a very retro vibe—checkered floor tiles, pastel walls, and a glowing menu board buzzing faintly. Lily doesn't waste a second. She practically sprints to the display case, her sneakers squeaking against the floor. @@.lily;"Ooh, they've got new flavors!"@@ she says, smushing her hands and nose against the glass like she's five again. @@.lily;"Wait—there's mango sorbet now?!"@@ You walk up beside her and lean casually on the edge of the display. @@.player;"Maybe try something new today."@@ @@.lily;"I am. Mango is new."@@ @@.player;"I meant you should cut back a little. Save society from your bottomless stomach."@@ She doesn't even glance at you. @@.lily;"Says the guy who hides snacks in his desk drawer."@@ @@.player;"That's called planning ahead,"@@ you mutter. Your dad lets out a quiet laugh, hands in his pockets as he takes a slower stroll up to the counter. @@.boy;"Is your favorite still peach, Lily?"@@ Lily pauses, then glances over her shoulder at him with a half-smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. @@.lily;"That was years ago, Dad. I like cherry now. The one with the little swirl in it."@@ There's a slight shift in his expression. @@.boy;"Right. Of course."@@ He says it like he's just realizing how much he's missed. The girl working the counter flashes a friendly smile. @@.girl;"Let me know whenever you're ready, folks. Take your time."@@ @@.lily;"I'll do a small cherry,"@@ Lily says brightly, as if nothing had happened. @@.lily;"Waffle cone, please!"@@ You watch her for a second longer, then turn back to the glass. You scan the pastel-colored flavors behind the glass. Time to make your pick. <<button "Get vanilla" "Day 3 - 15">>\<<set $d3icecream to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D3_icecream" "vanilla" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get chocolate" "Day 3 - 15">>\<<set $d3icecream to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D3_icecream" "chocolate" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get cookies and cream" "Day 3 - 15">>\<<set $d3icecream to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D3_icecream" "cookies" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get strawberry" "Day 3 - 15">>\<<set $d3icecream to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D3_icecream" "strawberry" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d3icecream is 0>>\ @@.player;"I'll take a medium vanilla, please,"@@ you say, pointing at the pale dessert behind the glass. Lily glances over and immediately scrunches her nose. @@.lily;"Seriously? Vanilla? That's like... the default."@@ You shrug, unbothered. @@.player;"Classic never goes out of style."@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, well, classic is boring,"@@ she says dramatically, crossing her arms. You smirk. @@.player;"Says the girl who gets cherry every time."@@ @@.lily;"It's cherry with a swirl,"@@ she huffs. @@.lily;"There's nuance."@@ You just shake your head. @@.player;"You'll understand the beauty of restraint when you're older."@@ <<elseif $d3icecream is 1>>\ @@.player;"I'll take a medium chocolate,"@@ you say, pointing at the deep, velvety scoop behind the glass. Lily rolls her eyes dramatically. @@.lily;"Ugh, chocolate? What are you, five? You gonna get a Capri-Sun with that too?"@@ @@.player;"Lily, it's //literally// one of the most popular flavors in the world,"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.lily;"Popular doesn't mean good,"@@ she fires back. @@.lily;"Minion memes are real popular. Not good, though."@@ You ignore her. @@.player;"Keep talking, and I'll eat yours too."@@ She gasps. @@.lily;"You wouldn't dare."@@ @@.player;"Watch me."@@ <<elseif $d3icecream is 2>>\ @@.player;"I'll get the medium-sized cookies and cream,"@@ you say, pointing at the swirl of vanilla and crushed cookies behind the glass. Lily gives you a scandalized look, hands on her hips. @@.lily;"Wow. And //I'm// the one who's gonna gain weight? That thing looks like it's legally classified as a health hazard."@@ You raise an eyebrow, smirking. @@.player;"Sounds perfect for someone with your taste in Roblox outfits."@@ @@.lily;"You take that back!"@@ Lily complains. @@.player;"Only if you admit cookies and cream is the superior flavor,"@@ you respond, shrugging. She squints at you, then looks at the ice cream. @@.lily;"...Fine. It's decent. But cherry's still better."@@ @@.player;"Keep telling yourself that,"@@ you mutter. <<elseif $d3icecream is 3>>\ @@.player;"I'll get the medium-sized strawberry, please,"@@ you say, pointing at the pink, creamy swirl in the display case. Lily squints at you, then smirks. @@.lily;"Geez, are you a girl now or something? At least get a flavor that doesn't look like it comes with a free tiara."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Gender doesn't apply to ice cream, Lily. It's literally just frozen milk and vibes."@@ @@.lily;"Frozen milk and //girly// vibes,"@@ she says, clearly unconvinced. @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"Then I guess I'll be the prettiest one here while you're busy inhaling your cherry."@@ <</if>>\ Your dad orders his usual—two scoops of pistachio—and you all watch as the girl behind the counter assembles your family's order. When she rings everything up, the price makes your eyebrows raise a little. Ice cream really //has// become overpriced. Your dad doesn't flinch at the total, just pulls out his wallet and pays, flashing a small smile as if making a point that he's trying. You all head toward a quiet booth tucked into the back corner of the parlor. It's a little cramped, with you and Lily shoulder-to-shoulder on one side and your dad across from you. The moment you sit down, Lily starts squirming. @@.lily;"Move your fat elbows!"@@ she hisses, trying to shove you with one of her scrawny arms. You, of course, take this as an invitation to spread out even more. @@.player;"Oh, sorry, am I invading your personal throne?"@@ you ask, nudging her further. @@.player;"Didn't realize we had assigned seating."@@ @@.lily;"Ugh, you're the worst. Ever heard of personal space, genius?"@@ @@.player;"I read about it in one of my many //high school// textbooks,"@@ you reply smugly, letting the "middle schooler" part go unspoken. Across the table, your dad watches the exchange with a tired sigh. He sets his pistachio down carefully, like he needs a second before jumping in. @@.boy;"I see your dynamic hasn't changed a bit,"@@ he says, giving a weak smile. @@.boy;"You two know it's just family at the end of the day, right? Maybe try not to act like sworn enemies."@@ Lily scoffs, arms crossing. @@.lily;"Well, if it's //just family//, then how come you're never here?"@@ Her voice is sharp. Not loud or dramatic—just cutting. And you glance over at your dad in time to see the way his eyes go a little distant. There it was. The thing none of you like to say out loud. @@.boy;"I'm sorry, Lily,"@@ he says after a pause. His voice is low, and there's no defensiveness in it—just guilt. @@.boy;"I've been gone too much. I let work take over everything. I thought making money and providing stability was enough. But I should've been here more. With both of you. I'm... trying to do better now."@@ Lily's eyes flicker down to her ice cream, and she shrugs, still stiff. @@.lily;"I //guess// it's fine. I mean... you're here this year, right?"@@ She doesn't look at him when she says it, but there's a tiny crack in her armor. Your dad nods gently. @@.boy;"I'm here. No more trips. No more missing everything."@@ Then he looks at you. @@.boy;"And you, $name? I owe you the same apology. I've missed a lot these past few years. I wasn't around, and I know that. But I want to be here for you now—especially this year. Whatever you need, I'll be here. But only if you'll let me."@@ He holds your gaze as he waits. You can tell he means it, but how do you feel about it? <<button "You forgive him" "Day 3 - 16">>\<<set $d3forgive to true>>\<<trackChoice "D3_forgive_dad" true "story">><</button>> <<button "You don't forgive him" "Day 3 - 16">>\<<set $d3forgive to false>>\<<trackChoice "D3_forgive_dad" false "story">><</button>>

<<if $d3forgive is true>>\ <<set $dadRelo += 5>>\ @@.player;"It's fine Dad, I get it,"@@ you say after a pause, your voice quieter than before. @@.player;"You were working hard, doing what you thought you had to do to support us."@@ You glance at your ice cream for a few beats before looking back up again. @@.player;"But still... I think I would've traded some of that stability for a little more time with you. Just having you around would've been nice."@@ Your dad's expression falters. He looks at you for a long moment, like he's trying to figure out how much he's already lost and what he can make up for. His voice is softer when he finally responds. @@.boy;"I know I've missed a lot. Too much. And I can't take that back,"@@ he says, his eyes not leaving yours. @@.boy;"But I don't want to miss what's still ahead. I want to be part of your life—really be there, not just someone who shows up for a photo every few months."@@ You let the silence settle for a second, then nod, more tired than angry. @@.player;"That's all I'm asking. Just... be around, dad."@@ Your father gives a small, sincere smile. @@.boy;"I will be. I promise."@@ <<else>>\ You look up from your ice cream, staring straight at your dad. @@.player;"I don't know, Dad."@@ Your voice is quieter than you expected, but heavier too. @@.player;"It just feels kind of late."@@ He watches you closely, but you push through before you lose your nerve. @@.player;"Lily and I have basically grown up without you. You were always working. Always somewhere else. And I get that working is hard. I get that making money is a challenge. But we weren't starving or struggling. You didn't have to miss everything just to keep the lights on."@@ You hear your own words, sharper than you expected. But you don't take them back. Your dad just listens, his lips pressed together. Then he sighs, eyes dropping to the table. @@.boy;"You're right,"@@ he says, exhaling slowly. @@.boy;"I didn't have to be gone that much. I don't expect forgiveness for missing most of your life. I can't undo that. But I can be here now. And I will be, I promise."@@ There's a long pause. The only sound is Lily slurping the last of her ice cream from the bottom of the cup, trying not to look at either of you. You nod, not because it fixes anything, but because it's all you can really do. @@.player;"That's all I can ask for,"@@ you say quietly. And for now, it's enough. <</if>>\ <<button "Finish up the ice cream date" "Day 3 - 17">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $shoes to 69>>\ After finishing your little ice cream outing, you eventually make your way back home. Dinner is a quick, uneventful affair—just enough to keep your stomach from growling later. But once you're back in your room, reality sets in. There are still a few things on your plate before the day is over. Homework. Checking your messages. A nice hot shower. You lean back in your chair and glance at the clock. What should you tackle first? <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ <<button "Take a shower" "Day 3 - Shower">><<trackChoice "D3_night_activity" "shower" "story">><</button>> <<button "Do your homework" "Day 3 - Homework">><<trackChoice "D3_night_activity" "homework" "story">><</button>> <<button "Talk to your friends" "Day 3 - Socialize">><<trackChoice "D3_night_activity" "socialize" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> You finish up everything you need to do for the day. You stretch with a groan, every part of your body reminding you just how long the day felt. The room is quiet now, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlights bleeding through your curtains. You flip the switch, and the room dims to black. Crawling into bed, you bury yourself under the covers, letting the warmth swallow you whole. Your thoughts try to linger—on transformations, on the weirdness of it all—but exhaustion takes over fast. Before you know it, your eyes slip shut, your breathing evens out, and you drift off. For now, you just rest. <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> @@.girl;"Good morning, my lovely homeroom students,"@@ Ms. Carter calls out as she strides into the room with her usual chipper energy. She sets her bag down and turns to face the class, hands folded together like she's about to deliver bad news. @@.girl;"I really hate to say this, but today's not going to be a free period."@@ A unified groan ripped across the room, and you're right there with them. You sink a little in your seat, already missing the hour of freedom you had yesterday. You were hoping for another low-effort morning—maybe sneak in some videos or even a nap. Ms. Carter claps her hands once, a gentle cue to tell everyone to quiet down. @@.girl;"I know, I know,"@@ she says, smiling sympathetically. @@.girl;"But we've got some important things to cover."@@ She pulls out some papers but doesn't hand them out just yet. @@.girl;"First order of business, the back-to-school party is this Friday."@@ There's a ripple of interest across the room as people perk up. @@.girl;"It's optional, of course,"@@ she continues. @@.girl;"But I highly recommend going. There's food, music, gossip—what's //not// to love?"@@ You'd almost forgotten about the party. It happened every year, split by grade level, and wasn't so much about actually celebrating the start of school as it was about catching up on who broke up, who hooked up, and who changed over the summer. It's awkward and chaotic, but also kind of fun. Ms. Carter moves on, glancing at the clock. @@.girl;"Second thing—clubs. As most of you know, Wednesday is club day here at Pacific Crest. Today we still have homeroom, but starting next week, you'll be reporting to your club during this period."@@ She pauses and gestures toward the room. @@.girl;"So now, please take out your laptops and head to the school website."@@ There's a rustle of movement as everyone digs into their backpacks. @@.girl;"Of course, if you're already a club leader, you've got the green light to zone out for a bit,"@@ she adds, waving her hand lightly. @@.girl;"Go ahead and scroll TikTok for ten minutes. You've earned it."@@ A few students laugh while a boy in the corner instantly pulls out his phone. You open your laptop and wait for the school website to load, wondering for the first time what kind of club might actually be worth joining this year. <<button "Take out your laptop" "Day 3 - 3">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> The familiar homepage loads as you log into the school portal. It's cluttered with announcements, deadlines, and club registration info. A big banner at the top reads: ''CLUB ENROLLMENT OPEN – JOIN BEFORE NEXT WEDNESDAY!'' You scroll down and find a list of available clubs, each with a little blurb beside it. Some are rather predictable. Some are... unexpected. A few even seem, dare you say it, kind of interesting. You hover your cursor over a few clubs that seem interesting, debating the options in your head. Which one catches your eye? <<button "Academic Club" "Academic Club">><</button>> <<button "Occult Club" "Occult Club">><</button>> <<button "Fashion Club" "Fashion Club">><</button>> <<button "Yearbook Club" "Yearbook Club">><</button>> <<button "Decide on a club to join" "Day 3 - 4">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> You nod to yourself, finally having settled on a club that feels right. You navigate to the sign-up form, typing in your name and student ID. The moment feels small, it //is// just a club after all, but there's a weird sense of finality to it. Like this choice might end up mattering more than you expect. You hit submit. Here goes nothing. <<button "Choose the Academic Club" "Day 3 - 5">>\<<set $club to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D3_club_choice" "academic" "story">><</button>> <<button "Choose the Occult Club" "Day 3 - 5">>\<<set $club to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D3_club_choice" "occult" "story">><</button>> <<button "Choose the Fashion Club" "Day 3 - 5">>\<<set $club to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D3_club_choice" "fashion" "story">><</button>> <<button "Choose the Yearbook Club" "Day 3 - 5">>\<<set $club to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D3_club_choice" "yearbook" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> You lean back in your chair after clicking submit, staring at the confirmation screen. <<if $club is 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "AcademicClub">>\ The Academic Club. Probably the most practical choice. Definitely not the most exciting—but hey, maybe that's exactly what you need right now. Structure and stability, something to ground you while everything in your life is shifting. At the very least, it'll look good on a college application. <<elseif $club is 1>>\ <<grantAchievement "OccultClub">>\ The occult club. You're not even sure //why// you chose it—curiosity, maybe. Or something deeper. After everything that's happened with Madame Serena, magic doesn't seem so fake anymore. If there's a place to get answers... maybe it's there. <<elseif $club is 2>>\ <<grantAchievement "FashionClub">>\ The Fashion Club. You can't help but be a little surprised at yourself. Out of all the options... that's the one you picked? Maybe it was on a whim or maybe it was out of curiosity. You don't know what you'll find there, but you're willing to find out. In the worst-case scenario, you'll at least be able to coordinate your outfits better. <<else>>\ <<grantAchievement "YearbookClub">>\ The Yearbook Club. It wasn't the flashiest choice, but there's something comforting about it. Tidy layouts and capturing memories. Organizing the chaos of high school into something neat. You'll get to decide how people are remembered. Maybe, in a way, you'll figure out how to remember yourself as well. <</if>>\ You lean back in your seat, half-scrolling while the rest of the class finishes up their club forms. The hum of keys clacking, low murmurs of friends chatting, and the occasional groan of someone indecisive fills the room. Eventually, Ms. Carter claps her hands again. @@.girl;"Alright, everyone—onto the next thing,"@@ she announces, glancing around with an apologetic smile. @@.girl;"I know most of you already have your little cliques locked in, but the school wants to promote inclusivity, so you'll be paired up with someone to be your homeroom partner for the rest of the year."@@ The groans are immediate. Ms. Carter opts to ignore them and begins rattling off names, one pair at a time. You're not really tuned in, until— @@.girl;"...and $name Yoon, you're with Jessica Sanders."@@ You blink. Wait. Jessica Sanders? You stiffen in your seat, heart thudding louder than you'd like to admit. Out of every name she could've said, everyone in homeroom, why that one? ''The'' Jessica Sanders—the girl who's practically the face of Pacific Crest High. Queen Bee. Honor roll student. Head cheerleader. Instagram micro-celebrity. Effortlessly perfect in every way you're not. And now... your partner for the rest of the year. You feel the air shift before you even see her. There's a soft tap on your desk. @@.jessica;"Hey,"@@ comes a voice, warm and surprisingly light. @@.jessica;"You're $name, right?"@@ You look up—and there she is. Jessica Sanders in the flesh. Ponytail tied back with a maroon bow, her bright blue eyes locked onto yours. She's leaning slightly across the desk, casual and confident. The light streaming in from the window frames her like a movie scene. You sit up straighter without meaning to, suddenly feeling inadequate. @@.player;"Uh, yeah. That's me."@@ Jessica smiles. Not in a smug way like you kinda expect, but something easier. @@.jessica;"Cool! I just wanted to say hi, since we //are// going to be partners for the rest of the year. Guess we're stuck together now, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I mean—yeah. Looks like it."@@ @@.jessica;"Trust me, I know this is weird,"@@ she says, shifting her weight as she rests her hand on your desk. @@.jessica;"Random pairings and all, it happens in high school. But I figured I'd introduce myself before we awkwardly sit next to each other every homeroom for the rest of the year."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, letting out a breath of a laugh. @@.player;"I was still mentally preparing for that part."@@ Jessica chuckles, and the sound feels genuine. @@.jessica;"Yeah, there's no need to worry. I don't bite, I swear."@@ You're not used to her being like this. You've seen her around a million times—smiling at teachers, laughing with friends, always walking like she knows exactly where she's going. But this version of her feels different. Like she's just another student trying to make the best of an awkward situation. @@.jessica;"I'm guessing we've never really talked before?"@@ she asks. You shake your head. @@.player;"Not really. We've never shared any classes, I think."@@ @@.jessica;"Well, now we've got a homeroom,"@@ she says before flashing a grin. @@.jessica;"Lucky you."@@ You snort under your breath, and she seems rather pleased with herself. @@.jessica;"Anyway,"@@ she adds, glancing around for an open seat. @@.jessica;"Mind if I sit with you?"@@ You nod, and she slides into the chair beside you, smooth and practiced. You feel the space shift again as she settles in, pulling one leg up to rest over the other. @@.jessica;"So,"@@ she says, giving you her full attention. @@.jessica;"Here's a fun question to kick things off: if you could relive any day from your life, which one would you choose?"@@ Her question does admittedly catch you off guard—not the kind of thing someone usually leads with. But she's looking at you with genuine curiosity behind her eyes. Like she actually wants to know more about you. And you feel you've got to answer. <<set $jessicaMeetingCG to true>>\ <<set $jessicaCGhair to 0>>\ <<set $jessicaCGeyes to 1>>\ <<if $hairProg is 2>>\ <<set $jessicaCGhair to 2>>\ <<elseif $hairProg is 3>>\ <<set $jessicaCGhair to 3>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $eyesProg is 1>>\ <<set $jessicaCGeyes to 1>>\ <<elseif $eyesProg is 2 or $eyesProg is 3>>\ <<set $jessicaCGeyes to 2>>\ <</if>>\ \ <<include "CG_JessicaMeeting">>\ <<grantAchievement "MeetJessica">>\ <<button "When my aunt picked my costume one Halloween" "Day 3 - 6">>\<<set $memory to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D3_memory" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "A time my uncle let me tag along with him" "Day 3 - 6">>\<<set $memory to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D3_memory" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "The day when I somehow aced the math olympiad" "Day 3 - 6">>\<<set $memory to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D3_memory" 2 "story">><</button>> <<button "The day I scored the winning goal in soccer" "Day 3 - 6">>\<<set $memory to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D3_memory" 3 "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> <<if $memory is 0>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Well,"@@ you begin, a little hesitantly. @@.player;"I think I'd go back to this one Halloween when I stayed over at my aunt's place."@@ Jessica perks up, resting her chin on her hand with interest. @@.jessica;"Yeah? What costume did she put you in?"@@ You scratch the back of your neck a little sheepishly. @@.player;"It was... kind of silly, honestly. It was a normal storybook character for the most part. But my aunt insisted, and I mean insisted, on adding this big ribbon to my costume. Said it gave the whole look some 'character.' I remember thinking I looked ridiculous."@@ You pause for a moment, letting the memory resurface. You can still remember the soft tug of her brushing your hair, the careful way she tied the bow just right. @@.player;"But I don't know,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"It actually felt nice, in a weird way. Like... being looked after. I guess I just miss that kind of attention sometimes."@@ Jessica watches you for a moment, then gives a little sincere nod. @@.jessica;"I get that. Sometimes it's the silly stuff you don't really think about that sticks with us."@@ <<elseif $memory is 1>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a second to think before answering. @@.player;"Probably this one summer afternoon when I tagged along with my uncle for the day,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"I must've been real young. Nine? Ten, maybe."@@ Jessica tilts her head, listening. @@.player;"It wasn't anything major,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"He just had some errands to run—bank, post office, hardware store, that kind of thing. Stuff I'd usually find boring. But for some reason, he invited me to come with him that day."@@ You smile a little at the memory. @@.player;"He let me wear one of his old button-ups so I wouldn't get tanned, and I remember thinking it looked way too big on me. But he rolled up the sleeves and said I looked sharp."@@ You pause, realizing you haven't thought about that in years. @@.player;"I don't know. It was so ordinary, but I felt... not like a kid, exactly. Just included. Like I was allowed to take up space for once. I didn't feel out of place."@@ Jessica watches you, her smile softening into something quieter. @@.jessica;"That actually makes a lot of sense,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"The quiet days have a way of sticking with us. Especially when someone makes us feel like we matter."@@ <<elseif $memory is 2>>\ <<set $study to Math.clamp($study + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Well,"@@ you begin with a small smile, @@.player;"I think it'd be pretty great to relive the day I won the math olympiad back in middle school."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. @@.player;"It was one of those team competitions, and we were neck-and-neck with another school. I ended up just barely cracking the final question. But when I did, my team was so excited. Everyone was shouting, the teacher was beaming... I remember just standing there, not really knowing what to do with all that attention."@@ You glance down for a second before looking back at her. @@.player;"It felt good to be the one people were proud of, though."@@ @@.jessica;"That actually sounds kind of amazing,"@@ Jessica says, a warm smile on her lips. @@.jessica;"You must've felt unstoppable."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Let's see... I think I'd go back to this one soccer game I played in as a kid,"@@ you say with a small laugh. @@.player;"It was one of those community league matches—really nothing huge—but I ended up scoring the winning goal right at the end."@@ You pause for a moment, the memory coming back clearer than you expected. @@.player;"Everyone rushed me after. My teammates, the coach—even some parents were cheering. It was like we'd won the World Cup or something. It was chaotic, but in the best way possible. I felt... like I actually mattered, even just for a few minutes."@@ @@.jessica;"That sounds incredible,"@@ Jessica says, resting her chin in her hand. @@.jessica;"There's something different about those early ones, don't you think?"@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Thanks for understanding,"@@ you murmur, suddenly feeling bashful. You glance over at her, her blue eyes still fixed on you. @@.player;"But what about you?"@@ you ask, shifting in your seat. @@.player;"What day would //you// go back to?"@@ Jessica blinks—just once, but it's clear the question catches her off guard. She opens her mouth, then hesitates. For a second, you think that she'll just brush it off with a joke or change the subject. But instead, she leans back and exhales softly, her voice quieting a little. @@.jessica;"I guess... maybe one of the afternoons I used to spend at my grandma's place,"@@ she says quickly. @@.jessica;"We didn't do anything dramatic. Just baked cookies, folded laundry, and watched old game shows."@@ She twirls the end of her ponytail once, a faint smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. @@.jessica;"I don't know. It just felt so easy. No pressure or deadlines, just someone who was proud of me no matter what."@@ There's a beat of silence. Then, as if remembering herself, she waves it off with a laugh. @@.jessica;"Okay, wow, that got a little sappy. You're a bad influence already, $name."@@ @@.player;"No, that sounds really nice,"@@ you say, shaking your head. @@.player;"It's kind of rare, isn't it? Having someone who's proud of you for existing."@@ Jessica glances over at you, and her smile this time is warmer. @@.jessica;"Thanks,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Look at you. Not even nervous anymore. I'm really not that scary."@@ You grin. Maybe she's not what you expected. Maybe she's more. <<button "Continue on with your day" "Day 3 - 7">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> <<if $d2tell is true>>\ As you slide into your usual spot at the lunch table, Luke's already halfway through his sandwich, eyes lighting up as he spots you. @@.luke;"Hey, $name,"@@ he says with his usual grin. @@.luke;"So... any more girl magic moments since yesterday?"@@ You shake your head, grateful to give an honest answer. @@.player;"Nope. I'm good—at least for now."@@ Luke visibly relaxes, giving you a thumbs-up. @@.luke;"Nice. I was kind of worried I'd show up and you'd be six inches shorter."@@ @@.player;"I'm still me,"@@ you mutter. Samantha raises a brow from across the table. @@.samantha;"Good. We can't have you becoming more feminine than me. There's already a girl quota at this table, $name, and I'm filling it."@@ <<else>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ You're barely seated before Samantha leans over, squinting at your head like she's trying to solve a murder mystery. @@.samantha;"Okay, pause—what happened to your hair, $name?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"Uh, what about it?"@@ @@.samantha;"Hello?"@@ Samantha asks, bewildered. @@.samantha;"It's like... longer? Shinier? Weirdly good? This is a trap, right? Is this one of those TikTok hair-filter things in real life?"@@ You clear your throat and give the excuse you rehearsed for your mom. @@.player;"Extensions. Just wanted to try something different."@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"Ohhh, fancy. You're one beanie away from stealing my spotlight."@@ <<else>>\ Samantha gives you a quick once-over as you sit down, eyes narrowing for just a second. @@.samantha;"You look... slightly different today, or am I imagining things?"@@ You shrug, playing it off. @@.player;"Just taking care of myself a little more lately. I started a new Korean skincare routine."@@ @@.luke;"Really?"@@ Luke asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.luke;"I didn't know you cared about that."@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"Well, if this is the new standard, I expect tinted lip balm by next week for $name."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ You take a bite of your lunch and shift the subject. @@.player;"Anyway, are you two going to the back-to-school party?"@@ Luke perks up like someone just told him there's free cake. @@.luke;"Yeah, definitely! Apparently, if you want to make sure you get on the varsity football team, showing your face at every school event is basically part of the deal."@@ He sighs dramatically, like this is the greatest injustice in the world. @@.luke;"I didn't realize socializing was a sport."@@ @@.samantha;"Well, I'm going because I actually //want// to,"@@ Samantha says, twirling her fork. @@.samantha;"Not because Coach Grumble needs to see me dancing to prove I have what it takes to play football."@@ @@.luke;"Hey,"@@ Luke says, feigning offense. @@.luke;"Don't disrespect the guy who yells at us until we're doing pushups in our sleep.'@@ Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"Just calling it like I see it, Puke."@@ You can't help but grin as you hear Luke's classic nickname. it was one of those dumb inside jokes that stuck—an accidental keyboard typo that became tradition. L and P were close enough. Puke it was. @@.luke;"Yeah, well,"@@ Luke says, smirking. @@.luke;"I'm about to //puke// all over the anime girl on your shirt if you keep talking."@@ @@.samantha;"Try it and I swear to God I'll replace your shampoo with ranch,"@@ Samantha fires back. They burst into laughter, and for a second, it feels like everything is normal. Luke finally recovers and turns to you, still chuckling. @@.luke;"How about you, $name? You coming to the party?"@@ He looks genuinely hopeful. <<button "I want to go" "Day 3 - 8">>\<<set $temp to true>>\<</button>> <<button "I don't want to go" "Day 3 - 8">>\<<set $temp to false>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> <<if $temp is true>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, of course I'm planning on going,"@@ you say, a touch of confidence in your voice. @@.player;"I mean, it's the first big event of the year. I don't want to be the weird guy who skips out on everything and gets forgotten about."@@ Luke lights up instantly. @@.luke;"That's the spirit!"@@ he says, clapping you on the back a little too enthusiastically. @@.luke;"The gang, united and ready to light up the first event of the school year."@@ @@.player;"The gang?"@@ You snort. @@.player;"Luke, it's literally just the three of us."@@ @@.luke;"Three's enough for world domination if we put our minds to it,"@@ Luke replies without missing a beat. @@.luke;"I'll bring the muscle, you bring the brains, and Samantha brings... uh... the dangerous sarcasm."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, how flattering,"@@ Samantha chimes in, rolling her eyes. @@.samantha;"Remind me again what you're bringing, Luke? Protein powder?"@@ You laugh, already picturing the three of you at the party. With them around, it definitely won't be boring. <<else>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'm not sure, to be honest,"@@ you say, rubbing your chin as you think it over. @@.player;"Parties like that... they're kind of overwhelming, don't you think? The loud music, the people, everyone trying to out-cool each other. It feels like a waste of time, honestly. Stressful as hell, too."@@ Luke's expression softens as he leans forward, trying to be encouraging without pushing too hard. @@.luke;"Come on, man,"@@ he says with a grin. @@.luke;"Samantha and I will be there. We've got your back."@@ He pauses, then adds sheepishly, @@.luke;"Well, I //will// have to hang around the football guys for a bit, but I swear I'll pop over as much as I can."@@ You glance down at your lunch, not entirely convinced. @@.player;"I'll think about it,"@@ you mumble, though you're not sure whether you really will. Still, part of you wonders if it might be nice to go. You'd certainly feel normal again, just for one night. <</if>>\ <<button "Finish up lunch" "Day 3 - 9">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-locker.png"> <<set $pants to 7>>\ After lunch, you make your way down the hall and push open the door to the locker room. The air hits you—sweat, deodorant, and that faint rubbery scent of gym mats. You find your usual locker, kneel to unzip your backpack, and pull out your gym kit: a white shirt with the school's logo and a pair of navy blue shorts that you're pretty sure have seen better days. You're halfway through changing when the door swings open behind you. Loud laughter echoes through the space, followed by the slap of sneakers against the floor. You don't even need to turn around to know who it is—two guys from your gym class, always attached by the hip. One of them is tall, obnoxiously so, always talking too loudly. The other's quieter, but not in a good way—he watches people too closely and laughs at all the wrong things. @@.boy;"Bro, did you see Paige in homeroom today?"@@ the tall one starts, his voice already too loud. @@.boy;"That sweater? Jesus."@@ He whistles low, then laughs, like he just said something brilliant. The other guy chuckles. @@.boy;"Yeah. She's always acting shy, but you //really// don't wear a top like that unless you want someone to look, right? It's like... pick a lane."@@ You freeze, fingers hovering over the hem of your shirt. They're talking about Paige. The quiet, awkward girl who sits in the back of each class with her sleeves pulled down over her hands. The girl who always apologizes when someone bumps into her, even if it's not her fault. The girl who never speaks unless called on, and who never dresses for attention—not that it would justify what they're saying if she did. The guys keep talking, their voices sleazy, muttering to each other like they're sharing a gross secret. You can feel something twist in your chest. It's not anger. At least not //just// anger. It's discomfort. Like you're hearing something you were never meant to, but now that you have, you can't pretend you didn't. They haven't noticed you yet. You could just stay quiet and keep your head down. Remain a bystander. But that wouldn't feel right. You take a breath. <<button "Speak up and call them out" "Day 3 - 10">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<if $d3analysis is 0>>\ You start your analysis by focusing on Gregor's physical transformation—how he wakes up as a giant bug, but instead of freaking out, his first thought is about missing work. You jot down how that actually says a lot about who he is as a person. He doesn't see himself as a human being with wants or feelings—just a worker, someone who exists to meet expectations. His whole sense of self is tied up in what he can do for other people. And as you keep writing, you feel your mind start to wander. You didn't mean to think about yourself, but... yeah. It hits close to home. You've been changing too—not into a bug, of course—but in a way that's just as hard to explain. You still feel like //you//, at least at the moment. But sometimes when you look in the mirror, the face staring back doesn't match how you think you should look. And you can't help but wonder—how long until people start seeing you differently because of it? You pause, staring at the blinking cursor on your monitor for a moment. Then you keep typing. There's still more to say about Gregor, and you do have to focus on your homework. But in the back of your mind, a quiet thought settles in: What if people only see the changes... and not the person underneath? <<elseif $d3analysis is 1>>\ You decide to focus on the theme of alienation—how Gregor is no longer seen as part of the world he once belonged to the moment he transforms. His voice becomes unintelligible. His family recoils from him. Even though he's still himself inside, the same Gregor Samsa, no one seems able—or willing—to see that. He becomes a burden. An inconvenience. Something to be ignored. As you write, you find yourself slowing down a little. Because it hits too close. You haven't told your family about what's been happening to you. The transformations may be subtle for now, but they're ''very'' real. You see them. You //feel// them. And even though most people haven't noticed, it's like a wall has gone up between you and them. You haven't even changed much... but somehow, you already feel a little more distant. A little more alone. And the longer you keep it to yourself, the more it feels like you're becoming something they wouldn't recognize. <<elseif $d3analysis is 2>>\ You decide to center your analysis on the crushing weight of family expectations and the sense of duty Gregor feels. What stands out isn't just that Gregor turns into an insect—it's that his first instinct isn't fear or confusion. It's panic that he's going to miss work. That he's going to disappoint his boss and his parents. That his absence might jeopardize his household. It's like his entire worth has been boiled down to a mere paycheck. His body might be unrecognizable, but that doesn't matter. What matters is he can't go to work. That he can't //perform//. And you can't help but feel a twinge of recognition. You're changing too. Not as drastically as Gregor, but enough that it's hard not to wonder what people will think if they notice. If you stop being what they expect. What they need. You're even sure who "they" is—your mom, your friends, your teacher. Hell, maybe even yourself. Gregor's story makes you wonder: if you stop meeting expectations, will the people who say they care still care at all? Or are you only valuable for what you can provide? You chew the end of your pen for a moment, unsure how to finish the paragraph. You don't write the last part down. But it stays with you. <<else>>\ You decide to focus your analysis on the breakdown of communication—how Gregor's transformation doesn't just change his body, but doesn't let him connect with the people closest to him. One of the first things that happens is that his voice changes, and suddenly his family, who's right outside his bedroom door, can't even understand him. He's still there. Still thinking. Still //feeling//. But no one can hear him. No one //gets// him. And the worst part? They stop trying. You sit with that for a moment. It hits a little closer to home than you expected. You think about your own transformation—the changes, the secrecy, how every day it feels harder to just talk to the people around you. You're still //you//, but there's this growing distance. Like there's something big and important that you can't bring up sitting between you and everyone else. So you don't. You don't put that in your paper. But you feel it anyway. <</if>>\ You finish your homework, reread it once, and then shut down your computer. You lean back in your chair and let out a long sigh. The weight of Gregor's story, your story, and the weird parallels linger in your mind. Why this book, out of all the ones your teacher could've picked? Why not something lighter? Something with dragons, or magic, or a happy ending. But no. It had to be //The Metamorphosis//—a story about a guy who wakes up one day changed and slowly becomes unrecognizable to everyone around him. Maybe tomorrow will be easier. Or maybe it won't. Either way, you'll get through it. One weird transformation at a time. <<button "Choose what to do next" "Day 3 Choice">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $temp1 to true>>\ You let out a resigned sigh and pull your chair closer to your desk. Homework wasn't exactly how you wanted to spend your time today, but it had to be done. You dig through your backpack and pull out the battered, slightly yellowed copy of //The Metamorphosis// that your English teacher handed out in class. A puff of dust escapes at you open it, making you cough a little. Ten pages. That was the assignment. Just read the first ten pages and write a short analysis. You could do that. You crack your knuckles, lean back a little, and start reading. The story wastes no time. Gregor Samsa wakes up one morning to find out that he's turned into a giant insect. No explanation, no buildup—just //bam//, he's a fucking bug. But instead of panicking or screaming or something along those lines, Gregor immediately starts worrying about his job. He's a traveling salesman, and it seems like the only thing on his mind is how he's going to be late for work. He stresses over missing the train, over what his boss will think, and over the disappointment he'll cause his parents. It's surreal. Not even because of the bug thing, but because Gregor's reaction is so... //numb//. He clearly hates his job, but he doesn't see any way out. His family depends on his income and quitting just isn't an option. He tries to drag his new bug body out of bed, awkwardly struggling, while his mother knocks on his locked door. When he finally tries to speak, his voice is unrecognizable. And when the chief clerk finally shows up to check on him... You reach the bottom of page ten and close the book slowly, your fingers lingering on the worn cover. There's a lot to unpack, but what are you going to focus on? <<button "Focus on his physical transformation" "Day 3 - Homework 1">>\<<set $d3analysis to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Focus on his alienation and isolation" "Day 3 - Homework 1">>\<<set $d3analysis to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Focus on family expectations and responsibility" "Day 3 - Homework 1">>\<<set $d3analysis to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Focus on communication breakdown" "Day 3 - Homework 1">>\<<set $d3analysis to 3>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at your phone, thinking you'll just shoot off a quick reply to Jessica's text. But before you can even finish typing, your screen lights up with an incoming call. ''Jessica Sanders.'' You hesitate for only half a second before you swipe to pick up. @@.jessica;"Hey, hey!"@@ Her voice bursts through the speaker, bright and bubbly, like she's already mid-conversation. @@.jessica;"Hope you don't mind the call!"@@ @@.player;"Uh, yeah, I don't mind,"@@ you say, caught a little off guard. @@.player;"Wasn't expecting a call, that's all."@@ @@.jessica;"I'm painting my nails,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"And I //always// mess them up trying to text. I'm already on round two 'cause I smudged my thumb trying to send that first message."@@ You hear her blow gently, probably fanning the polish dry. For someone you barely knew a few days ago, she's surprisingly easy to talk to. @@.jessica;"So,"@@ she continues, her voice playful. @@.jessica;"Now that we're officially homeroom partners, I figured I should, y'know, make the effort. Team bonding and all that."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Didn't know homeroom partners were supposed to bond."@@ @@.jessica;"Duh, of course we are,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"We're sitting together every morning for the rest of the year. That's basically a relationship."@@ @@.player;"That's one way to look at it."@@ There's a pause, then a long sigh from her end. @@.jessica;"Anyway, I've been kind of losing it over cheer stuff today."@@ @@.player;"Oh yeah?"@@ @@.jessica;"Mandy left. Like—just gone. Moved to Iowa. Who does that? No offense to Iowa, but... actually no, full offense to Iowa. Why would you voluntarily live there?"@@ @@.player;"What happened?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"She transferred schools,"@@ Jessica grumbles. @@.jessica;"And now we're short a cheerleader, and no one who's tried out can even do a proper toe touch. I swear, I'm going to have a stress pimple over it. Anyway—"@@ There's a soft ping on her end. She clicks her tongue. @@.jessica;"Ugh, sorry, another friend's calling. I gotta go. You're not boring or anything, promise."@@ Before you can respond, the line goes dead. You stare at your screen for a second, blinking. Well... that was a conversation. Weirdly enough, you don't feel brushed off. If anything, it's like you've been pulled just a little closer into Jessica's orbit. Whether that's a good thing or a terrifying one though, you're not quite sure. <<button "Choose what to do next" "Day 3 Choice">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $nude to 0>>\ <<set $nudebutton to 0>>\ <<if $d3shampoo is true>>\ You step back into the shower, water still running hot and steady, steam curling around your legs. You try not to look down at yourself too much. It happened again. Of course it did. You should've known better. Using your sister's shampoo? You might as well have asked for the curse to activate. You let the water rinse the suds from your hair as your mind spins. The curse reacts to feminine actions—and it seems that Lily's "Bloom Petal Kiss" shampoo counted. You finish up the shower quickly, fingers a little shaky as you dry off. You'll deal with what changed later. For now, the most you can do is to try and act like everything's fine... and maybe get some gender-neutral shampoo. <<else>>\ You stare at the nearly empty shampoo bottle in your hand, then at your sister's full one. The floral label practically sparkles under the bathroom light, almost like it's mocking you. You eye the bottle like it's rigged with a trap. You have no idea what counts as "girly" enough to trigger whatever magical nonsense Madame Serena put on you, and you're not about to find out in the middle of your shower. Using your sister's shampoo would be tempting fate. So, with a sigh, you pop open the cap and march it under the running water, filling it up a little then shaking it. The resulting watery mixture isn't optimal, but it'll make do. You lather it into your hair, but it barely foams and barely smells like anything. By the time you rinse out the last of the bubbles, you're not sure if your hair is clean or just wet and confused. Still, a shower's a shower. You turn off the faucet and step out, drying yourself off and throwing on your clothes. You're clean. You smell acceptable. You're still a guy. That's enough for now. <</if>>\ <<button "Choose what to do next" "Day 3 Choice">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<set $temp to true>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $nude to 2>>\ <<set $nudebutton to 2>>\ You make your way to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The mirror catches your eyes as you pass it, and—you //hate// to admit it—you hesitate. For just a second. You glance at your reflection, scanning for any new signs of the curse. Nothing too different. No sudden curves or unexpected... additions. You exhale, a little tension easing from your shoulders. It seems you're in the clear for now. You turn toward the shower and reach for the knob, twisting it until the pipes groan. A few beats later, the water sputters and then rushes out, slowly climbing in temperature. While it heats up, you start peeling off your clothes—tossing your shirt onto the counter, stepping out of your cargo shorts, and finally kicking them into the corner with your foot. You step into the shower, and the blast of heat against your skin scalds the stress away. You take your time as you scrub down. Not because you particularly //enjoy// showering, but because being clean somehow makes everything else feel less chaotic. When you reach for your shampoo and give the bottle a firm squeeze... nothing. You frown and shake it, trying again. A sad sputter of air and the faintest blob barely make it into your palm. You pop the cap and peer inside. There's barely anything left. You let out a loud sigh and glance at the collection of bottles on the shelves, scanning for a backup. Your sister's shampoo stands out—bright pink, floral-print label, and the name "Bloom Petal Kiss." The bottle is completely full. Of course. You hover your hand over it, debating what to do. It wouldn't change anything, right? <<button "Use your sister's shampoo" "Day 3 - Sister Shampoo">>\<<set $d3shampoo to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Mix some water in your shampoo and use that" "Day 3 - Shower 1">>\<<set $d3shampoo to false>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<set $nextScene to "Day 3 - Shower 1">>\ You sigh and reach for your sister's shampoo bottle—screw it, you're already in the shower and there's no time to overthink it. The cap clicks open with a satisfying //snap//, and a soft floral scent fills the air. It's much better than your usual "Winter Freeze" or "Arctic Ice" or whatever nonsense your two-in-one shampoo and conditioner had promised. You pump some into your hand and lather it through your hair, fingers massaging your scalp. It feels smoother already, like the shampoo is working some kind of magic. That //would// be great, if you weren't actively worried about a curse right now. Just as you're starting to relax, you feel it. A chill—not from the water, but something beneath your skin, a prickle running up your spine. You freeze, eyes wide. It's subtle at first, but it deepens. Your stomach twists with recognition. <<if $d2hate is true>>\ @@.player;"No, no, no—"@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Shit—"@@ <</if>>\ You scramble out of the shower, almost slipping on the tile, shampoo still clinging to your wet hair. You grab a towel and rush to the mirror, heart pounding. Steam clings to the glass, but you swipe it away with a frantic hand, searching your own reflection. Something's happening again. You can //feel// it. <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $temp2 to true>>\ You flop onto your bed, grab your phone, then unlock it. Two new notifications pop up—one from Vincent and the other from Jessica. You blink at the screen for a moment, surprised. Jessica? Really? It's not like she lacks people to talk to. You'd assumed her DMs were flooded with messages from cheerleaders, club officers, and guys all fighting for her attention. And Vincent? Well, that made more sense. he was a little shy, but after today's game, it kind of felt like the two of you had bonded. Curious, you tap on Vincent's message first. <div class="chat-container">\ <<if $d3pickleball is 2 or $d3pickleball is true>>\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Thanks again for today. That was the most fun I've ever had in gym class, especially because we won!</div> </div>\ <<else>>\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Thanks again for today. Even if we lost, that was the most fun I've had in gym class in a long time.</div> </div>\ <</if>>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">You're a good partner. Let me know if you ever want to team up again.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">(Also sorry if I was awkward, I'm still learning how to talk like a normal person lol)</div> </div>\ </div>\ You smile despite yourself. Classic Vincent. There's something endearing about how earnest he is. You tap over to his Instagram out of curiosity—yep, just like you suspected. A dozen photos of him standing in front of different universities. A few blurry shots of museum exhibits. A half-eaten croissant captioned "//mid-study snack//." It's dorky. But in a charming way. Then you switch over to Jessica's chat. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">hey u 👀</div> </div>\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">figured we should be mutuals since we're homeroom buddies now lmao</div> </div>\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">don't leave me on read 😤</div> </div>\ </div>\ It's short and chill, but there's something about it that makes you smile. You were kind of expecting her to be more distant, but she was actually pretty warm today. Friendly, even. You sit up slightly, thumbs hovering over the screen. You can't have two full-on conversations at once. At least not if you want to keep your sanity. You'll give one of them a quick reply to be polite... and focus on chatting with the other. Who do you want to chat to tonight? <<button "Talk to Vincent" "Day 3 - Vincent">><</button>> <<button "Talk to Jessica" "Day 3 - Jessica">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You send Vincent a quick message before tossing your phone down on your bed. You're not expecting much. Maybe a reply in a bit. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">yeah, good game today!</div> </div>\ </div>\ But less than thirty seconds later, your phone buzzes. Incoming call: Vincent. You blink at the screen before picking up. @@.player;"Hello?"@@ @@.vincent;"Hey, $name!"@@ Vincent's voice comes through, upbeat and a little too fast. It's like he's been practicing how to sound normal and still overshot it. @@.vincent;"Sorry, I know this is kind of sudden. I didn't mean to—well, I mean, I did mean to call, but I wasn't sure if you'd pick up, and—anyway, hi."@@ You laugh lightly. @@.player;"Hey. Didn't expect a call, but... what's up?"@@ @@.vincent;"Oh! Nothing serious or anything. I just thought it'd be nice to talk for a bit. We're kind of friends now, right?"@@ You don't even hesitate. @@.player;"Yeah, I'd say we are."@@ @@.vincent;"Cool,"@@ he says, genuinely relieved. There's some silence before he adds, sheepishly, @@.vincent;"Sorry if that was weird."@@ @@.player;"You're good. I'm just not used to people calling anymore. Everyone's addicted to texting."@@ @@.vincent;"I know, right? But I always end up staring at the screen and rewriting the same message like five times and then deleting it anyway because it sounds weird or not weird enough or too blunt or too clingy—ugh, it's just a pain, you know?"@@ You let him talk, listening as he barrels forward. @@.vincent;"And like, sometimes I feel like I'm better in person than over text, even though I say dumb stuff out loud too. Like one time I told a girl in bio that mitochondria were hot and I meant like... thermodynamically, not—ugh, never mind. Sorry, I'm rambling."@@ You let out a laugh, shaking your head. @@.player;"No, you're good. I needed a laugh."@@ @@.vincent;"Okay, well... it //was// at my expense,"@@ Vincent says, mock-offended. @@.vincent;"But I'll allow it."@@ You settle into a more comfortable position on your bed, phone pressed to your ear. @@.player;"So, what were you doing before this very urgent call?"@@ @@.vincent;"Oh, just studying. Well, kind of. I was staring at my notes for AP Lit and convincing myself I was studying. Now, I've upgraded to chatting with you and convincing myself it's still productive."@@ @@.player;"Well, you're definitely getting an A in mental gymnastics."@@ @@.vincent;"I'd better!"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Anyway—want to help me procrastinate a little longer?"@@ You laugh again. @@.player;"Sure. That's what friends are for, right?"@@ The two of you keep talking, the conversation shifting from classes to history to who would actually survive if there was a zombie apocalypse. (Vincent claims he has a detailed plan that he can't share involving the library and a mop.) And honestly? It's kind of nice. <<button "Choose what to do next" "Day 3 Choice">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $nude to 0>>\ You wonder what you should do next. <<if $temp is false>>\ <<button "Take a shower" "Day 3 - Shower">><<trackChoice "D3_night_activity" "shower" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp1 is false>>\ <<button "Do your homework" "Day 3 - Homework">><<trackChoice "D3_night_activity" "homework" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp2 is false>>\ <<button "Talk to your friends" "Day 3 - Socialize">><<trackChoice "D3_night_activity" "socialize" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp is true and $temp1 is true and $temp2 is true>>\ <<button "Go to sleep" "Day 3 - 18">><</button>> <</if>>\

Fashion Club Got an eye for fashion? Love expressing yourself through clothes, accessories, or design? Whether your dream is to walk the runway or you just want to elevate your everyday style, the Fashion Club is the place for you! We're all about celebrating creativity, exploring trends, and designing looks. We design custom outfits, learn about fashion trends, share styling tips, discuss the history of fashion, and take part in DIY workshops! You should join us to meet other students interested in fashion and to build your confidence! Everyone is welcome, no matter if you're a fashionista or just curious about trying something new! Join the Fashion Club and let your creativity shine. Fashion is more than clothes, it's about making a statement! <<button "Return" "Day 3 - 3">><</button>>

Occult Club Are you fascinated by the mysteries of the universe? Do you find yourself drawn to ancient myths, supernatural lore, and the secrets just out of sight? Then the Occult Club is calling your name! We're the perfect place for curious souls to explore the hidden forces of the world. We study supernatural phenomena, investigate paranormal activities, discuss mystical practices, go on spooky field trips, and debate unknown truths! You should join us to unlock hidden knowledge and dive deep into the mystical arts. You can connect with others who share your interest in the weird, strange, and magical. Join the Occult Club, where we don't just ask questions. We go and seek the answers. <<button "Return" "Day 3 - 3">><</button>>

Yearbook Club Do you love photography, writing, or design? Want to be part of something that'll last forever and ever? Join the Yearbook Club and help put together the book that captures every precious moment of the school year! We're the team that documents it all! We take photos at school events, write fun and creative captions, design the yearbook pages, interview students and teachers, and work as a team to create the perfect yearbook! You should join us to make your mark on the yearbook everyone will keep after this school year! You'll also learn valuable skills in photography, writing, editing, and design. Join the Yearbook Club and help capture the heart of our school year. Every single moment matters, and so do you! <<button "Return" "Day 3 - 3">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> <<set $day to 4>>\ <<set $top to 0>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ It's another morning—quiet, cool, and just a little too early for your liking. You walk with your hands in your pockets, your backpack slung loosely over one shoulder, the chill in the air doing just enough to wake you up as you head toward school. You're not in a rush, letting your steps fall into a steady rhythm as your mind drifts. Not much feels urgent this morning. Well, at least until you hear sneakers slapping the pavement behind you. @@.luke;"Hey, $name!"@@ Luke catches up to you in a few long strides, falling in step beside you like it's the most natural thing in the world. He gives you his usual grin, brushing his hand back through his ginger hair before shooting you a quick glance. <<if $d2tell is true>>\ @@.luke;"Any progress with the curse?"@@ he asks, voice low enough that no one else nearby would hear. Not that there //is// anyone nearby, but you appreciate the gesture. He sounds genuinely curious, maybe even a little concerned. <<if $d3shampoo is true>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, I did change again,"@@ you say, letting out a tired sigh. @@.player;"All I did was use my sister's shampoo last night because I ran out of mine. I think you can guess what happened next."@@ @@.luke;"Seriously?"@@ Luke raises his eyebrows. @@.luke;"Just from that? Man, that's rough."@@ He winces sympathetically. @@.luke;"I mean—who even wants to turn into a girl? No offense."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Nah, nothing new,"@@ you say, shaking your head. @@.player;"Maybe I need to do more... obvious stuff. Like, I don't know, try on a dress or something stupid."@@ Luke snorts. @@.luke;"Sounds like something that witch would enjoy watching. But hey, not changing is probably a win, right?"@@ He gives you a sidelong glance. @@.luke;"I mean, come on. Who actually wants to become a girl?"@@ <</if>>\ You shrug, not quite answering the question. @@.player;"I don't know. Depends on how bad it gets, I guess. Maybe I'll stop by and see Madame Serena again soon—figure out if there's a way to reverse it or something."@@ Luke goes quiet for a moment, then nods. @@.luke;"Let me know if you do. You shouldn't have to deal with this alone."@@ <<else>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ @@.luke;"Is it just me, or do you look... different today?"@@ he says, tilting his head. @@.luke;"Not in a bad way. Just—something's off. Did you get a haircut or something?"@@ You force a casual shrug. @@.player;"What would I even be hiding?"@@ you say, doing your best to keep your voice light, even as your heart gives a little lurch. He stares for another second, then shakes his head and laughs. @@.luke;"Nah, never mind. I'm probably just sleep-deprived. Let's pretend I didn't say anything."@@ He moves on easily, chatting about a dumb post he saw and how Coach Blake is probably going to make everyone run laps again. The suspicion doesn't linger, at least for now. <<else>>\ He doesn't seem to notice anything at all, launching right into a story about how his dog ate an entire bag of marshmallows last night then proceeded to throw up on his bed. You chuckle as the two of you walk the rest of the way to school, his voice filling the early morning quiet. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Go to school" "Day 4 - 2">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> <<set $money += 50>>\ You spot Samantha near the mall fountain, pacing with purpose and scanning the crowd like she's on a mission. She's in her usual getup—striped sleeves layered under a black graphic tee, loose jeans, and her signature beanie perched just over her bangs. It's the same outfit she wears nearly every day, like a uniform she chose for herself and never bothered to change. Somehow, though, it doesn't look lazy—just distinctly Samantha. The moment she sees you and Luke walking up, her face lights up. @@.samantha;"Finally,"@@ she announces, hands on her hips. @@.samantha;"You both showed up. The gods must be smiling upon me."@@ Luke jogs over with that usual boundless energy, grinning as he comes to a stop in front of Samantha. @@.luke;"Hey! You ''always'' make that outfit work somehow. Still love the caution strap. It's like you're a walking warning sign or something."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"I've worn this literally every week for the past year, Luke."@@ @@.luke;"I know,"@@ he says, completely unbothered. @@.luke;"Doesn't make it any less cool. Kind of iconic at this point."@@ Samantha smirks despite herself. @@.samantha;"Careful, you're dangerously close to sounding sincere."@@ Luke gives a small shrug. @@.luke;"What can I say? I call it like I see it."@@ You bite back a smile. @@.samantha;"I'm serious, though,"@@ she continues, turning back to you. @@.samantha;"The back-to-school party is tomorrow. We need clothes. Preferably ones that won't make me want to melt into the floor when I look back at photos."@@ Luke stretches his arms above his head. @@.luke;"I mean, I've got my outfit already."@@ Samantha glances at him. @@.samantha;"Luke, that is the same shirt you wore yesterday. And the day before that. It has a dog wearing sunglasses."@@ @@.luke;"Yup!"@@ he says, looking down at it proudly. @@.luke;"It's got a cool vibe, right? Like, chill but strong."@@ @@.samantha;"I don't even know how to respond to that."@@ @@.player;"Dog vibes are in,"@@ you add, mostly just to back him up. Samantha raises a brow at you. @@.samantha;"Don't encourage him."@@ You shrug with a sheepish grin. @@.player;"I think it looks good."@@ @@.luke;"See?"@@ Luke beams. @@.luke;"$name gets it."@@ @@.samantha;"God help me,"@@ Samantha mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose. @@.samantha;"Anyway, let's get going. We ''need'' to be smart about this. We'll hit the clothes store after we warm up with a few fun ones. You two can pick where."@@ @@.samantha;"Wait,"@@ she pauses mid-step. @@.samantha;"Money check. ''Please'' tell me you didn't come here just to loiter."@@ You pull out your phone and double-check. @@.player;"I got some extra money from my mom. She pitched in fifty bucks."@@ @@.samantha;"Perfect."@@ She gives you an approving nod, then swivels toward Luke. @@.samantha;"And what about you?"@@ He digs into his pocket, then pulls out a slightly crumpled ten-dollar bill and an unopened mini-pack of Skittles. @@.luke;"There's this,"@@ he says, like he's presenting a rare treasure. @@.luke;"And this. Emergency snacks."@@ Samantha stares at him for a few seconds, dumbfounded. @@.samantha;"You... you brought ten bucks and candy to a fashion mission?"@@ @@.luke;"Gotta stay energized,"@@ he says. His grin doesn't falter. She opens her mouth, closes it, then shakes her head slowly. @@.samantha;"I'm not even mad. I'm just—no, actually, I am mad. But also impressed. But mostly mad."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.samantha;"I'll pick the actual stores later,"@@ she declares, motioning ahead. @@.samantha;"But to be a merciful goddess, I'll let you two choose three fun places to hit first. Then it's fashion boot camp."@@ @@.luke;"I pick Games for Life!"@@ Luke exclaims immediately. @@.samantha;"You didn't even wait,"@@ Samantha sighs. Luke grins. @@.luke;"Didn't need to. It was already in my heart."@@ You shake your head as the three of you step into the mall together. It already feels like it's going to be a good day. Or, at the very least, an entertaining one. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ You can choose to go to three stores. You won't be able to experience the stores you don't go to, so choose wisely! </div>\ <<set $d4stores to 0>>\ <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ <<set $temp3 to false>>\ <<set $temp4 to false>>\ <<set $temp5 to false>>\ <<set $temp6 to false>>\ <<set $plushie to false>>\ \ <<button "Go to Tech Gadgetz" "Mall - Tech Store">><</button>> <<button "Go to Games for Life" "Mall - Game Store">><</button>> <<button "Go to Page Turners" "Mall - Book Store">><</button>> <<button "Go to Mystic Emporium" "Mall - Mystical Store">><</button>> <<button "Go to Paws & Whiskers" "Mall - Pet Store">><</button>> <<button "Go to Cuddle Creations" "Mall - Plushie Store">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> You stretch your arms overhead, feeling a bit of a slump settle in after all the stores you visited. Before you can even suggest taking a second to rest, Samantha claps her hands. @@.samantha;"Well, that's that,"@@ she says, dusting off her hands like she's just completed a monumental task. @@.samantha;"You guys have officially draggd me through every store you care about. Three checks."@@ Luke lts out a dramatic groan. @@.luke;"Brace yourself, $name. We're about to be marched into Victorious Secrets. I can feel it in my soul."@@ You glance at Samantha just in time to see her roll her eyes. @@.samantha;"Please. You think I'm dragging two dudes into a lingerie store? Get over yourself."@@ She pauses for dramatic effect. @@.samantha;"Unless, of course, you //want// a matching lace set, Luke Finnegan O'Malley."@@ Luke shudders so intensely it nearly knocks over a display. @@.luke;"There was no need for my full name. I have a dog, too. I need to mantain some level of dignity. He can't see me in lingerie, he'd be so disappointed."@@ @@.samantha;"You say that like your dog doesn't sleep upside down with his tongue out,"@@ Samantha shoots back. @@.luke;"He still has standards. An old dog has many tricks, or whatever the saying is."@@ You laugh, the banter like background noise now. But your stomach chooses that moment to make its presence known, growling so loud it turns heads. @@.player;"Okay, okay, can we talk less about underwear and more about food?"@@ you say, hand over your stomach. @@.player;"I am starving."@@ @@.samantha;"Fine, let's scope out our options,"@@ Samantha says, stepping over to the nearby mall directory. She stands there for a few seconds, tapping her chin like she's solving an equation, then points triumphantly at the map. @@.samantha;"Alright, the food court is just... crazy. So we've got two good options. It's down to pizza or sushi."@@ @@.luke;"Pizza,"@@ Luke says instantly, like it's not even up for debate. @@.luke;"Greasy, cheesy, perfectly circular pizza."@@ Samantha recoils. @@.samantha;"Of course you'd choose the most unrefined option. Pizza's just hot bread with guilt."@@ @@.luke;"And sushi is cold fish,"@@ Luke retorts. @@.samantha;"Sushi is elegant and artistic,"@@ Samantha says smugly. @@.samantha;"You eat it and suddenly feel like you're better than everyone."@@ @@.luke;"You //already// think that,"@@ Luke fires back. You hold up your hands. @@.player;"Okay, okay, let's not start World War 3. I'm the deciding vote, right?"@@ They both turn to you, the air suddenly thick with tension. @@.samantha;"You're the tie-breaker,"@@ Samantha says, tilting her head. @@.samantha;"Do you want grease and regret or style and sophistication?"@@ Luke leans closer, trying to bribe you with pure enthusiasm. @@.luke;"One word, $name. Breadsticks."@@ You sigh, glancing between your two best friends. You're in the middle of a food custody battle, and your stomach is eager to cast its vote. <<button "Go for pizza" "Day 4 - 12 Pizza">><</button>> <<button "Go for sushi" "Day 4 - 12 Sushi">><</button>>

You plant your hands on your hips and declare, @@.player;"Alright. We're going with pizza."@@ Luke practically jumps into the air. @@.luke;"YES! Thank you. Finally, some real food!"@@ he cheers, throwing an arm around your shoulder in triumph. Samantha, on the other hand, makes a sound that is somewhere between a sigh and an agonizing death. @@.samantha;"Great,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"'Cause nothing gets me hungrier than the scent of grease and testosterone."@@ @@.luke;"You mean flavor and victory,"@@ Luke grins, already leading the way like a man on a mission. @@.luke;"I'm getting meat lovers with double meat. No, triple meat. No... INFINITE MEAT."@@ @@.samantha;"That's not a pizza,"@@ Samantha snaps. @@.samantha;"That's a war crime. What even //is// that? You're just stacking eight different animals into one sad circle of dough."@@ @@.luke;"It's delicious,"@@ Luke says smugly. @@.samantha;"We are getting supreme,"@@ she adds firmly. @@.samantha;"Why? Because we, as a group, have taste, standards, and functioning arteries."@@ @@.luke;"Supreme?"@@ Luke snorts. @@.luke;"You mean that sad veggie graveyard with a couple of pepperonis and sausages thrown on top for pity?"@@ You walk behind them as they argue, letting their voices bounce off the walls of the mall. It's honestly kind of fun, watching a dog and a cat fight. Eventually, though, you're forced to intervene. @@.player;"How about we just split a pepperoni?"@@ They both turn around mid-bicker. @@.luke;"Plain pepperoni?"@@ Luke asks. @@.samantha;"No veggies?"@@ Samantha asks. @@.player;"I mean, think about it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's a classic. It's neutral yet beloved."@@ Samantha sighs dramatically. @@.samantha;"Fine."@@ @@.luke;"I guess it's acceptable,"@@ Luke says. You all finally arrive at the pizzeria. You place the order for a large pepperoni, and it arrives sizzling and bubbling. The moment it hits the table, Luke turns into an absolute menace. You manage to grab a slice, Samantha gets one, and before you can blink, Luke is already working through his third slice. @@.samantha;"Dude, slow the fuck down!"@@ Samantha exclaims, watching in horror as he folds a piece in half and devours it in two bites, washing it down with soda. @@.luke;"This is how kings eat,"@@ Luke mumbles, barely coming up for air. @@.luke;"Pepperoni royalty. This is a feast."@@ By the time you've worked through your first slice and Samantha is dabbing oil off hers, the box is empty. Luke leans back in the booth with a satisfied grunt. @@.luke;"Whew. That was amazing."@@ @@.samantha;"You ate six slices,"@@ Samantha says, glaring at him. @@.samantha;"Six. Out of eight."@@ Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Yeah, and?"@@ @@.samantha;"You should pay for all of it,"@@ she says flatly. @@.samantha;"You ate most of the pizza."@@ @@.luke;"What?! NO way. This should be split three ways."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You sure about that? I barely got anything."@@ @@.luke;"Split three ways,"@@ Luke repeats, looking between you both with wild eyes. @@.luke;"We shared the experience."@@ @@.samantha;"You shared the experience of stuffing your face like a garbage disposal,"@@ Samantha shoots back. @@.luke;"I'm broke!"@@ Luke yelps. @@.luke;"I'll have to borrow from my mom again. She already said no more credit card unless it's for studying."@@ @@.samantha;"Guess this was an educational experience, then,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"You just learned that your actions have consequences."@@ You can't help but laugh as Luke slowly digs out his phone, mumbling under his breath about betrayal and pizza taxes. He hovers his phone above the card reader like he's offering his soul. @@.luke;"Rest in peace, Luke,"@@ he whispers. @@.luke;"This is gonna come back to haunt me."@@ @@.samantha;"You'll live,"@@ Samantha says. @@.luke;"I'm in debt to my mom now,"@@ Luke wails. @@.luke;"You guys better remember this moment. This is a sacrifice."@@ You pat his shoulder sympathetically. @@.player;"I'll think of you every time I get pizza."@@ Ansdwith that, you all step back out into the mall. <<button "Go shopping" "Day 4 - 13">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/restaurant-sushi.png"> You glance between your friends and say, @@.player;"Let's go with sushi."@@ Before the word's even fully out of your mouth, Samantha practically glows. @@.samantha;"Finally! Another cultured individual,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"We are getting some good seafood."@@ Luke, on the other hand, looks like you just kicked over his dog's food bowl. @@.luke;"Sushi?"@@ he groans. @@.luke;"Raw fish? Slippery ocean things wrapped in seaweed? My stomach's not built for that."@@ @@.samantha;"You'll live,"@@ Samantha says over her shoulder. @@.samantha;"There's always something on the menu for picky eaters. Go order your fish sticks or whatever."@@ @@.luke;"I like fish sticks,"@@ Luke mutters, already trudging along behind you two like a man marching to his culinary execution. @@.luke;"They're crunchy and honest."@@ You arrive at a sleek little sushi restaurant. The vibe is minimalist but cozy, with pale wood paneling, soft lighting, and the gentle clatter of plates being set down at nearby tables. You get seated near the window. Samantha already has her menu open and her finger halfway down the shrimp tempura section before the server even says hello. @@.samantha;"This,"@@ she announces. @@.samantha;"Now this is dinner."@@ @@.player;"I'll do a California roll,"@@ you say, pointing to something simple and safe. Luke flips through the menu like it's written in an alien language. @@.luke;"What is //half// of this?"@@ he asks. @@.luke;"I don't trust anything with 'roe' in the name."@@ @@.boy;"You could get the fried shrimp platter,"@@ the server suggests kindly. Luke lights up. @@.luke;"Fried shrimp? Say less."@@ He slams the menu shut and grins. @@.luke;"And fish sticks. I want those too. The crispy ones."@@ The server writes it all down with an amused smile and heads off. @@.samantha;"You are such a child,"@@ Samantha mutters. @@.luke;"I'm just honest,"@@ Luke shrugs. @@.luke;"Some of us don't want to eat wet rice blankets with fish sadness inside."@@ The food arrives a few minutes later in a beautiful arragement. Your California rolls glisten with sesame seeds, Samantha's shrimp tempura is golden and crispy and Luke's plate... Well, Luke's plate is a mountain of fried shrimp, battered fish sticks, and what appears to be a dipping sauce he is ''way'' too excited about. Luke digs in like he hasn't eaten in months. Within a minute, he's gone through half his plate. @@.player;"Dude, slow down,"@@ you say, watching him dunk another fish stick with frightening speed. @@.player;"You're gonna choke on your own happiness."@@ @@.luke;"I missed lunch, okay?"@@ Luke lies. @@.luke;"This is like... spiritual healing."@@ Samantha's eating her shrimp tempura with more dignity, but she's clearly savoring every bite. That is, until a shadow looms over her plate. @@.samantha;"Luke, don't even think about it,"@@ she warns. @@.luke;"I just want one,"@@ Luke says innocently, already reaching. She slaps his hand away with her chopsticks. @@.samantha;"Back off, crustacean thief."@@ @@.luke;"But you have, like, six tempuras!"@@ @@.samantha;"And you have a graveyard on your plate."@@ Luke pouts. @@.luke;"Sharing is caring."@@ @@.samantha;"Not when you're a bottomless pit with an addiction for fried food."@@ The table quiets as the last bites are taken and the server drops off the check. Samantha doesn't even look at it before turning to Luke. @@.samantha;"You're paying.@@ @@.luke;"What? Why me?"@@ @@.samantha;"You ate more than the two of us combined,"@@ she says, pulling out her phone like the discussion is over. @@.luke;"That's not fair. We all agreed on sushi."@@ @@.player;"And then you devoured three people's worth of seafood,"@@ you add. @@.luke;"Isn't it, like, subsidized or something?"@@ @@.samantha;"Not how money works, dude,"@@ Samantha says. Luke slumps in his chair. @@.luke;"I'm going to have to borrow from my mom //again//. She said no more purchases unless it's for studying."@@ @@.samantha;"She'll understand,"@@ Samantha says sweetly. @@.samantha;"Just tell her it was an emergency 'cause you were going through a growth spurt."@@ Luke glares at both of you as he pulls out his phone and taps it against the machine. @@.luke;"Rest in peace,"@@ he mutters. @@.luke;"There goes my weekend snack fund."@@ @@.player;"How were you going to get snacks anyway?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"The bookstore sells candy,"@@ Luke says. You all rise from the table, full and slightly poorer, ready to continue the mall adventure. <<button "Go shopping" "Day 4 - 13">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/store-boutique0.png"> The moment you step into the store, you're hit by perfume and warm lighting. Mannequins in trendy outfits line the entrance, all posed in dramatic angles, and a pop song is playing overhead. This ''definitely'' isn't Samantha's usual place. There's no graphic tees, band shirts, or spiky things in sight. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ Samantha declares, marching forward like she owns the place. @@.samantha;"Now we're finally doing what I wanted to do."@@ You glance at her with a raised eyebrow. @@.player;"I thought your thing was Threadz."@@ @@.samantha;"It //is//,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"But I need something with a little more class for the back-to-school party. I'm not going to pull a Luke and show up in my casual outfit."@@ @@.luke;"Hey!"@@ Luke exclaims. @@.player;"She's not wrong,"@@ you mutter. Luke glances around warily like he's just been dropped on a foreign planet. @@.luke;"Why is everything in here, like, really tiny and shiny? Am I gonna get arrested just for looking at the clothes wrong?"@@ @@.samantha;"You won't get arrested,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"But if you knock over a purse, they will make you buy it."@@ Luke immediately puts his hands in his pockets and straightens up. You drift away a little, weaving between racks of carefully folded crop tops and knit sets you would have no idea how to wear. That's when you see jeans. Blue skinny jeans. Nice but simple. You pick up a pair and unfold them slowly. Luke peers over your shoulder. @@.luke;"Yo. Are those for you?"@@ @@.player;"I mean, maybe?"@@ you say, holdin them up to your waist. @@.player;"They //are// on sale."@@ @@.luke;"They're really tight-looking,"@@ Luke comments, squinting. @@.player;"They're skinny jeans."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, but like, they're //skinny// skinny, y'know?"@@ You look down at your current outfit. You're wearing a plain white T-shirt, khaki cargo shorts, and a beat-up pair of Converses. The same thing you've worn basically every day of the summer. And the school year before that. And maybe the summer before that, too. @@.luke;"Dude, your cargo shorts have more mileage than my mom's car,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"And that white T-shirt is basically your uniform."@@ @@.player;"Thanks for the fashion analysis."@@ @@.luke;"You're like that guy from //Diary of a Wimpy Kid//,"@@ Luke continues. @@.luke;"Actually, I think he has more range."@@ You're about to tell him off when Samantha suddenly pops back into your peripheral vision, a handful of dresses draped over one arm and a gleam in her eyes. @@.samantha;"Oooh,"@@ she says, noticing the jeans in your hands. @@.samantha;"Look at you, Mr. Cargo Shorts branching out."@@ @@.player;"I'm not committing to anything,"@@ you say defensively. @@.player;"I just thought they looked alright."@@ @@.samantha;"Well, anything is better than the crime against fashion you've been committing for the past year,"@@ she says, poking your shoulder with one of her hangers. @@.samantha;"Seriously, $name, your shorts are like two wash cycles away from falling apart."@@ Luke nods solemnly. @@.luke;"I think they have a name."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"So supportive, the both of you."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Come on, just try them on. It's not like they'll melt on contact with your legs."@@ @@.luke;"What if they //do//, though?"@@ Luke asks, leaning in conspiratorially. @@.luke;"Like, cursed pants. Instant karma for abandoning the sacred Cargo Code."@@ You can't help but laugh. @@.player;"I don't even know if they'll fit."@@ @@.samantha;"Only one way to find out,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Besides, worst case, they look weird and I get to make fun of you."@@ @@.player;"And best case?"@@ @@.samantha;"You don't look like someone who got lost in a camping supply store."@@ You glance at the jeans again, and feel the faintest tug of curiosity. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"I guess I've just never worn stuff like this."@@ Luke claps you on the back. @@.luke;"Dude, I'll lie and say you look great even if they're awful."@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"And if they're great, I'll take credit for making you hot."@@ <<button "Try on the skinny jeans" "Day 4 - 14">>\<<set $d4jeans to true>>\<<trackChoice "D4_try_skinny_jeans" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't try on the skinny jeans" "Day 4 - 14">>\<<set $d4jeans to false>>\<<trackChoice "D4_try_skinny_jeans" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/store-boutique0.png"> <<set $friendsKnow to $d2tell>>\ <<if $d4jeans is true>>\ <<set $nextScene to "Day 4 - Jeans">>\ <<set $temp to $femineChanges>>\ <<set $pants to 1>>\ @@.player;"Alright, fine,"@@ you say, lifting the jeans with a little more resolve. @@.player;"I'll try them on."@@ Samantha lights up like she just won a bet. @@.samantha;"Good choice,"@@ she says, immediately turning on her heel. @@.samantha;"Follow me, brave soul."@@ You glance at Luke, who give syou a thumbs-up. @@.luke;"Don't die in there,"@@ he says solemnly. @@.luke;"If you do, I call dibs on your fancy chair."@@ @@.player;"Touch my chair and I haunt you."@@ Samantha leads you through the store until you reach the fitting rooms tucked in the back. It's quieter here, with muffled music and dim lights. She pushes open one of the doors and gestures. @@.samantha;"Your chamber awaits."@@ You roll your eyes and step inside. The fitting room is small and clean. A full-length mirror hangs on one wall, and a tiny bench sits under a rack of metal hooks. You step out of your sneakers and hang your cargo shorts on one of metal hooks. Then, you pull the jeans up. They're snug. Not tight in an uncomfortable way or anything, but close enough that you're very aware of the denim against your skin. You shift your legs and tug the waistband a little higher before zipping them up. They sit perfectly on your waist. Then you turn to the mirror. The person staring back isn't unrecognizable or anything, but the skinny jeans fit well. Your legs look longer, cleaner, and more defined. The bagginess of your cargo shorts had always obscured the shape of your frame, but now your figure feels more visible and soft. You tilt your head and move your hips a little. What the hell? They actually kind of work. You lean in closer to get a better look, frowning thoughtfully. And suddenly— A tingling feeling begins under your skin, light and prickly, like static electricity. <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.player;"I'm good,"@@ you say as you shake your head. <<button "Rate Samantha's outfits" "Day 4 - 15">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/store-boutique0.png"> <<set $pants to 0>>\ Samantha disappears into the fitting room with three dresses draped over her arms, her stride confident, like a woman on a mission. You and Luke hover nearby, surrounded by mirrors and racks of clothes, unsure what to do with yourselves in this awkward space. You glance at Luke, who's inspecting a necklace shaped like a strawberry with an expression of mild betrayal, like the store itself has personally offended his fashion sensibilites. @@.luke;"She's gonna be in there forever, huh?"@@ he mutters. @@.player;"She's breezing thorough,"@@ you say, then pause. @@.player;"And probably judging every little detail."@@ From behind the curtain, there's a swish of fabric and the soft clack of a hanger hitting the floor. A moment later, Samantha pulls the curtain back and steps out in a striking red wrap dress. It fits her well, vibrant with a plunging neckline and a tied waist. The fabric gathers just right at the hips, ending above her knees. @@.samantha;"Well?"@@ she asks, turning toward the mirror and studying herself. @@.player;"Woah,"@@ you say before you can stop yourself. @@.player;"That's actually kind of perfect."@@ Samantha smirks at your tone but doesn't comment. She turns to the side, adjusting the waist tie. @@.samantha;"It //is// a little daring,"@@ she muses, @@.samantha;"but the color is really nice. Bold but not tacky. I like it."@@ @@.luke;"You look like the lead in a rom-com,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"You're the one who's mean at first, but then has a tragic backstory and ends up being nice."@@ @@.samantha;"Thanks, I think?"@@ Samantha blinks, confused, then shrugs. @@.samantha;"Anyway, that was option one."@@ She ducks back into the fitting room, and the sounds of zippers and fabric rustling start again. When Samantha reemerges, she's swapped the red for a soft, flowy maxi dress. This one is light, airy, and covered in pale floral prints. It's sleeveless, with a modest neckline and a dreamy quality to it. @@.samantha;"This might not be back-to-school party material, but damn is it comfy,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"I feel like a trendy girl."@@ @@.player;"I like that one too,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"You look really relaxed."@@ @@.luke;"It makes me want to go barefoot and get iced tea,"@@ Luke offers. Samantha flashes you both a quick smile before retreating into the fitting room again. Another round of rustling, a quiet muttered @@.samantha;"fuck"@@, and the curtain pulls back for the third time. Now she's wearing a timeless little black dress. It's sleek and minimalistic, with a subtle sweetheart curve neckline. It hugs her figure just enough to suggest intention without effort. The material is soft matte, sleeveless, and falls a few inches above the knee. @@.samantha;"The classic,"@@ she says, turning to get a side profile. @@.samantha;"You can't go wrong with a little black dress."@@ @@.luke;"It's kinda like a black coffee,"@@ Luke says, trying to put it into words. @@.luke;"Simple, dark, yet not boring."@@ @@.player;"That was shockingly poetic,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"I know, right?"@@ Luke says, proud. @@.luke;"I impressed myself."@@ Samantha rolls her eyes but looks pleased. She smooths the fabric and faces you both. @@.samantha;"Alright, final verdict time. I've narrowed it down. Red wrap dress, comfy floral boho, or sleek black classic."@@ Luke crosses his arms and tilts his head. @@.luke;"You look slightly less bad than usual in all of them, which is saying a lot."@@ @@.samantha;"I'll take that as a glowing endorsement,"@@ she says dryly. Then her eyes land on you. @@.player;"Okay, your turn, fashion critic. What's the pick?"@@ <<button "I like the red dress" "Day 4 - 16">>\<<set $d4samanthaOutfit to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "I like the floral dress" "Day 4 - 16">>\<<set $d4samanthaOutfit to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "I like the black dress" "Day 4 - 16">>\<<set $d4samanthaOutfit to 2>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/store-boutique0.png"> <<if $d4samanthaOutfit is 0>>\ You fold your arms and nod slowly. @@.player;"I'm gonna have to go with the red one. it just suits you."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow, but there's a flicker of genuine surprise on her face. @@.samantha;"Seriously?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's confident without being loud, and it just kind of works. You look like you belong at the center of whatever room you're in."@@ Luke lets out a low whistle. @@.luke;"Who knew $name had such fashion wisdom?"@@ You ignore him. @@.player;"I'm just saying that it makes a statement in a good way."@@ Samantha laughs. @@.samantha;"That's nice to hear. It //does// make me feel like I could punch someone and look good doing it."@@ @@.luke;"You're wearing that to a party, Samantha,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Not a duel."@@ @@.samantha;"Have you //seen// our school's parties?"@@ she mutters, half under her breath. You think about the other dresses she chose. They were pretty, sure, but this one has energy. It looks like Samantha Rivera. @@.samantha;"So,"@@ Samantha says, locking eyes with you. @@.samantha;"Red it is?"@@ @@.player;"Red it is,"@@ you confirm. She smirks. @@.samantha;"Good. I was secretly hoping someone would say that one."@@ <<elseif $d4samanthaOutfit is 1>>\ @@.player;"I actually really like the floral one,"@@ you say, watching her sway lightly in front of the mirror. @@.player;"It's got this kind of laid-back elegance."@@ Samantha blinks. @@.samantha;"The boho one?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, that one. It's soft, but not boring. You look like someone who just left a bookshop and is on her way to something cool but secret."@@ Luke tilts his head. @@.luke;"That was... oddly specific."@@ @@.player;"It's a vibe,"@@ you say simply. @@.player;"It feels more //you// than the others. Like if you weren't trying to impress anyone, but still wanted to feel amazing."@@ Samantha hums. @@.samantha;"You know, I wasn't even going to try this one on. It felt too floaty."@@ @@.player;"But you kind of own it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It looks comfortable. Like something you'd actually wear again."@@ Luke snorts. @@.luke;"Only if she's running a cottagecore Instagram."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh please,"@@ Samantha says, but there's a smile tugging at her mouth. @@.samantha;"You just don't understand fashion unless it's made of jersey knit or has your favorite football team on it."@@ @@.luke;"What I //do// understand is comfort,"@@ Luke shoots back. @@.player;"Like I said, it feels like you,"@@ you repeat. There's a quiet moment before she nods. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ she says at last, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. @@.samantha;"Looks like this one wins."@@ <<elseif $d4samanthaOutfit is 2>>\ You rub your chin before speaking. @@.player;"I think I'm gonna have to go with the black one."@@ Samantha arches a brow. @@.samantha;"Classic choice, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Well, there's a reason it's a classic,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's clean, flattering, and powerful. You look sharp without even trying."@@ Luke frowns. @@.luke;"I just think they're sexy."@@ @@.player;"Of course,"@@ you respond, sighing. Samantha smiles faintly and turns back to the mirror, adjusting the neckline. @@.samantha;"Honestly? I kind of agree. With $name, not Luke. I always feel like a spy or an assassin or something in a dress like this."@@ @@.luke;"You //do// look like you could sneak into a villain's lair and steal some top-secret files,"@@ Luke adds. @@.luke;"But you'd also be back in time for curfew."@@ Samantha rolls her eyes, but she's clearly pleased. @@.samantha;"It's simple, but it works."@@ @@.player;"Isn't that your brand?"@@ you add. @@.player;"Effortless danger."@@ She gives you a playful side-eye. @@.samantha;"Flattery will get you nowhere, but noted."@@ Luke leans against the wall. @@.luke;"So, the little black dress wins?"@@ @@.player;"Looks that way,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's strong."@@ <</if>>\ As Samantha turns back toward the fitting room, clutching the dress you complimented, you're left with the pair of blue skinny jeans still in your hands. You glance down at them again, holding the denim up by the waistband. They look narrower than anything you've ever worn. It's like they were made for someone who actually knew what the hell they were doing with fashion. Someone who owned more than four white T-shirts and the same beat-up cargo shorts you've been wearing since middle school. Still... it wouldn't hurt to try something different, right? You glance at the price tag again. Twenty bucks. Not exactly a major investment or anything. You could probably wear them to the back-to-school party tomorrow, assuming you don't look ridiculous. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ Getting clothes will affect your character model in the future and can boost your stats if you wear them to the right events. </div>\ <<button "Buy the skinny jeans" "Day 4 - 17">>\<<set $skinnyjeans to true>>\<<trackChoice "D4_buy_skinny_jeans" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't buy the skinny jeans" "Day 4 - 17">>\<<set $skinnyjeans to false>>\<<trackChoice "D4_buy_skinny_jeans" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/store-boutique0.png"> <<if $skinnyjeans is true>>\ <<set $money -= 20>>\ You glance at the jeans one last time in your hands and make the decision before you can second guess yourself again. @@.player;"Yeah, screw it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'll get them."@@ Samantha perks up immediately, flashing you a proud smirk. @@.samantha;"Look at you, making fashion choices like a functioning member of society."@@ Luke throws both hands in the air dramatically. @@.luke;"We're witnessing histroy, folks! $name has bought pants that aren't cargo shorts or gym sweats!"@@ @@.player;"Don't make it a whole thing,"@@ you say, rolling your arms. @@.samantha;"It //is// a thing,"@@ Samantha says, already heading to the checkout counter with her dress slung over one arm. @@.samantha;"We're gonna remember this moment forever."@@ You follow her, jeans folded neatly in your hands. You still feel weird about it, but the world hasn't ended yet, and your friends are still by your side. At the register, Samantha pays first. She pulls a crumped bill out of her pocket and exchanges a few words with the cashier, who folds her dress into a slim, branded paper bag and hands it over. Then it's your turn. You step up, place the jeans on the counter, and pull out your phone. You double-click the side button and hold your phone over the terminal. A little chime confirms the payment. @@.luke;"Nice,"@@ Luke says, watching over your shoulder. The three of you step back out into the main mall, and you're walking with your friends at your side and jeans you actually chose for yourself in your hands. <<else>>\ You shake your head and let the jeans fall back onto the shelf. No matter how long you stared at them, it just didn't feel right. You're not ready, not right now, at least. You tuck your hands into the pockets of your cargo shorts and try not to feel weird about how relieved you are to just... stay in your comfort zone a little longer. Samantha reemerges from the fitting room with the dress you chose slung over one arm. She's already changed back into her regular clothes, and there's a knowing look on her face as she glances down at your empty hands. @@.samantha;"Suit yourself,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"But one of these days, I //am// going to get you out of those shorts."@@ You give her a smile, pretending not to hear that last part. She heads over to the checkout while you and Luke hover nearby. The cashier rings up the dress while Samantha pulls a crumped bill out of her pocket. Luke yawns dramatically beside you, like waiting a few minutes was some kind of physical hardship. When Samantha rejoins the two of you, she claps her hands together. @@.samantha;"Alright, I'm done. Let's get out of here before I vomit. I need some Threadz //so// badly."@@ The three of you step through the entrance and spill back out into the mall. Nothing's changed. Not really. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - 18">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> The mall is packed, the hum of overlapping conversations blending with the distant beat of pop music from a nearby store. You and your friends navigate through the crowd, Samantha leading the way with her phone in hand, rattling off the next store on her list. Just as you round a corner, someone slams into you—''hard''. It's not a careless brush or an accidental nudge; it's a full-body collision that knocks you a step back. Your shoulder throbs from the impact. @@.jordan;"Watch where you're going."@@ The voice is sharp, low with annoyance. You glance up and immediately recognize the figure in front of you—Jordan Brooks. His varsity jacket stands out against the sea of shoppers, the dark fabric broken up by the crisp white sleeves and a bold letter ''P'' stitched onto his chest. He's built like the athlete he is, broad-shouldered and tall. His amber eyes flick over you, unimpressed. @@.player;"Oh, my bad, I didn't see you,"@@ you say, though the words feel almost automatic. You're not entirely sure if you're at fault here, but apologizing seems like the easiest way to avoid making this a bigger deal. Jordan lets out a sharp exhale through his nose, shaking his head slightly. @@.jordan;"Yeah, no shit."@@ His voice is flat, edged with condescension, like he thinks your apology is a waste of breath. @@.jordan;"Maybe use your eyes next time instead of stumbling around like an idiot."@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, it was an accident,"@@ Samantha snaps, stepping forward with her arms crossed. @@.samantha;"Chill the fuck out."@@ Jordan finally shifts his gaze to her, his expression unreadable but not exactly friendly. @@.jordan;"And?"@@ he says, voice cool. He doesn't seem interested in arguing—just in making it clear that he doesn't care. His eyes flick back to you, lingering for a second longer than necessary. Then he scoffs under his breath, adjusting his jacket like the entire interaction has already bored him. @@.jordan;"Just don't get in my way again."@@ <<set $jordanMeetingCG to true>>\ <<set $jordanCGhair to 0>>\ <<set $jordanCGeyes to 1>>\ <<if $hairProg is 2>>\ <<set $jordanCGhair to 2>>\ <<elseif $hairProg is 3>>\ <<set $jordanCGhair to 3>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $eyesProg is 2 or $eyesProg is 3>>\ <<set $jordanCGeyes to 2>>\ <</if>>\ \ <<include "CG_JordanMeeting">>\ \ <<grantAchievement "MeetJordan">>\ <<button "Confront Jordan" "Day 4 - 19">>\<<set $d4jordan to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D4_jordan_talk" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Stay silent" "Day 4 - 19">>\<<set $d4jordan to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D4_jordan_talk" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask what's wrong" "Day 4 - 19">>\<<set $d4jordan to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D4_jordan_talk" 2 "story">><</button>> <<button "Ignore Jordan" "Day 4 - 19">>\<<set $d4jordan to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D4_jordan_talk" 3 "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> <<if $d4jordan is 0>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You stand your ground. Something about the way Jordan talks to you, like you're beneath him and he's annoyed he had to even acknowledge your existence, snaps something in you. Maybe it's the pain in your shoulder. Maybe it's the week you've had. Maybe you're just tired of being looked at like that. You step forward, meeting his eyes. @@.player;"Hey, maybe you should try not body-checking people like you're still on the damn field,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You ran into me, not the other way around."@@ Jordan pauses, brown eyes narrowing slightly. It's not that he's angry, it's more like he's surprised you even said anything. He shifts his stance a little, the corner of his mouth twitching. @@.jordan;"Oh yeah?"@@ he says, voice low. @@.jordan;"I didn't realize I needed permission from you just to walk."@@ @@.player;"You don't,"@@ you reply, @@.player;"But you also don't get to act like I tripped into your personal kingdom. It's a mall. People bump into each other. Get over it."@@ Luke lets out a quiet @@.luke;"yo..."@@ under his breath, clearly unsure where this is going. Samantha, on the other hand, looks proud as hell. Jordan stares at you for a beat longer before scoffing again. @@.jordan;"Whatever,"@@ he mutters, turning on his heel like you're no longer worth the energy. @@.jordan;"You're lucky I'm not in the mood."@@ @@.player;"You're lucky I am,"@@ you mutter under your breath. As he walks away, you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Maybe that wasn't the smartest move, but it felt good. And this time, at least, you didn't back down. <<elseif $d4jordan is 1>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Your throat is tight and your brain's trying to line up the words, but they all crumble before they reach your tongue. You just stand there. Stunned, angry, and embarrassed. Your shoulder still aches, and Jordan's words ring in your ears like a slap you weren't expecting. He already turned away, like you weren't even worth a second glance. Samantha shoots you a look, then glares at his back as he walks away. @@.samantha;"What an absolute dick,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"He's got the emotional range of a wet sock."@@ @@.luke;"That guy's always been kind of a tool,"@@ he says, trying to sound casual, but you can tell he's checking in on you. You shrug, trying to act like it doesn't bother you. @@.player;"It's fine. Whatever."@@ But it's not really fine. You hate how small it makes you feel and how fast someone like him can ruin your mood with a few words and a shove. You exhale through your nose and fall into step beside your friends again. You don't say anything. You just keep walking. <<elseif $d4jordan is 2>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You don't raise your voice, but you don't back down either. Instead, you tilt your head, studying Jordan's face like you're trying to solve a puzzle. @@.player;"You good, man?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Because you're acting like something just happened."@@ Jordan blinks, clearly not expecting that. He frowns, his jaw tightening. @@.jordan;"What?"@@ @@.player;"I'm just saying you ran into me, then snapped at us, and now you're glaring like I ruined your weekend,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Did something happen, or are you always this fun in public."@@ For a second, you almost think he's going to answer. Something flickers in his expression, like maybe you hit a nerve. But then he smirks, all sharp edges again. @@.jordan;"Cute,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Real cute."@@ @@.player;"You should hear me on stage,"@@ you shoot back, deadpan. Samantha lets out a soft snort, amused. @@.samantha;"God, well played, $name."@@ Jordan stares at you a second longer, then turns away, muttering something under his breath that sounds vaguely like //weirdo//. Luke watches him go, then glances at you. @@.luke;"You okay?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Just weird vibes all around."@@ <<else>>\ You don't say anything. You just blink, glance at your shoulder like you're brushing off the tension with your hand, and move past without giving Jordan the dignity of a response. He can be pissed. He can be rude. He can act like he owns the entire mall. That doesn't mean you have to validate it. Samantha looks between you and Jordan, eyebrows raised. @@.samantha;"Wow. Mature silence? That's new."@@ @@.player;"Not worth it,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"He clearly think this place is his runway. Let him strut."@@ Luke lets out a low whistle. @@.luke;"Cold-blooded. I like it."@@ Behind you, Jordan mutters something under his breath and walks off. You're not scared of him. You've got better things to do than get dragged into some stupid drama. You'll just keep walking. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - 20">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> You take your usual seat in homeroom, sliding into the familiar chair with a quiet sigh. The classroom is still in its pre-bell rush—some students are chatting, others are hunched over desks scrolling through their phones or finishing homework that they honestly should've done last night. You pull out your phone and thumb through your notifications, letting the minutes pass as you wait for the bell to ring and Ms. Carter to start in on the day's instructions. You're halfway through reading some random post when a familiar voice cuts through the quiet. @@.jessica;"Hey, $name."@@ You glance up and see Jessica walking toward your desk. She's got that usual confidence in her step, like she owns the place—or maybe just doesn't care what anyone thinks. But instead of her usual cool, she suddenly adjusts her posture, squares her shoulders, and tips an invisible hat in your direction. @@.jessica;"Or should I say, g'day partner."@@ Her voice has taken on the worst fake Australian accent you've ever heard. It is ''completely'' unconvincing. You blink before bursting into laughter. @@.player;"Isn't it meant to be 'g'day mate'? What was that?"@@ Jessica shrugs, already smiling at her own ridiculousness. @@.jessica;"Hell if I know. I'm American. We're not exactly known for our cultural sensitivity."@@ She slides effortlessly into the empty seat next to you, the one that's usually unclaimed or used by someone random depending on the day. The motion is casual, but you notice a few people across the room looking your way, probably wondering the same thing you are. @@.player;"Wait, you're sitting here now?"@@ you ask, trying to keep your voice even. Jessica glances around, completely unbothered. @@.jessica;"Yeah, why?"@@ You hesitate. @@.player;"No reason. Just... didn't think you would."@@ She stretches her legs under the desk and leans back like she's been sitting next to you all year. @@.jessica;"We're partners now, right? For homeroom? Might as well stick together."@@ @@.player;"Fair enough,"@@ you say, nodding. You're about to say something else—maybe a joke, maybe a thank you—but before the words come out, the sharp and familiar school bell rings. The classroom quiets down as everyone settles in, and a moment later, Ms. Carter claps her hands from the front of the room. @@.girl;"Okay, homeroom family,"@@ she says with a cheerful energy that sounds ''way'' too alert for this early in the day. @@.girl;"Today, we're starting something new—your personal reflection journals!"@@ There's a groan from somewhere in the back, but Ms. Carter powers through it with a smile. @@.girl;"You'll be filling out several entries throughout the year, and then looking back on them at the end. These are for you, so take them seriously. The school actually invested a fair bit into these, so please take care of them."@@ She begins walking around the classroom, handing out plain brown journals one by one. They're nothing fancy—just softcovers with a built-in bookmark ribbon—but they have a bit of weight to them, like something meant to last. You flip yours over in your hands when she sets it on your desk, inspecting the smooth cover and the stitched binding. @@.girl;"As part of this project, you'll sometimes be given prompts to reflect on,"@@ she continues, making her way back to the front. @@.girl;"After you write your entry, you'll read a short excerpt aloud to your partner and have a brief discussion. Nothing too scary—I just want you to be thoughtful and open-minded with each other."@@ Jessica leans over and raises an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"Guess that makes us journal buddies now too,"@@ she whispers. @@.player;"I didn't even know that was a thing,"@@ you reply, smirking. Ms. Carter powers on her laptop. The projector hums to life, casting a blue glow across the whiteboard before it flickers and displays her screen. A moment later, several bullet-pointed questions appear, each one designed to pry just a little deeper than your average school assignment. @@.girl;"These are the questions I want you to answer today,"@@ Ms. Carter says. @@.girl;"Take your time and be honest. You've got most of the block to work on this."@@ <<button "Look at the first question" "Day 4 - 3">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/store-jewelry.png"> <<set $piercedears to false>>\ You step into ''Gleam Glow'', a sleek little jewelry store nestled between a skincare boutique and a high-end tea shop. The store has display cases lined with shimmering gold, silver, and gemstones that glitter under the spotlights. There's a soft hum of ambient music playing overhead, barely audible over the faint clink of bracelets being rearranged by the attendant behind the counter. Samantha claps her hands softly. @@.samantha;"Finally, something I want,"@@ she says, immediately veering left toward a display of earrings. @@.samantha;"I want to get something for the party tomorrow. Maybe a necklace, or hoops, or a statement piece. I don't know yet."@@ A sharply dressed guy with a neat undercut glances up from his polishing cloth. @@.boy;"Feel free to browse,"@@ he calls over warmly. @@.boy;"Let me know if you're looking for something speciifc. We also do piercings, by the way."@@ @@.samantha;"Thank you!"@@ Samantha calls back, her attention already locked on a tray of glittering earrings. Luke stands behind you, visibly out of place. His expression is a mix of confusion and mild fear, like he's wandered into a foreign dimension made entirely of expensive sparkly things. He squints at a rotating earring tower near the register. @@.luke;"Do any of these... like... do anything?"@@ he mutters. @@.luke;"Like, are any of them walkie-talkies or secret weapons?"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"They're earrings, not spy gear."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, well, for the price they better launch missiles,"@@ he says, looking mildly disappointed. Samantha turns, holding up a pair of drop earrings shaped like wind chimes. @@.samantha;"What do you think?"@@ she asks, glancing between you and Luke. @@.luke;"They're shiny,"@@ Luke offers with a thumbs-up. @@.luke;"I give them a 10/10. Very windy."@@ You snort, stepping closer to a case of simple studs. You're not even sure why you're looking, but Samantha suddenly gasps. @@.samantha;"Wait,"@@ she says, spinning toward you with excitement practically radiating from her. @@.samantha;"$name, you should totally get your ears pierced."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.samantha;"No, seriously,"@@ she says, pointing at a pair of black studs. @@.samantha;"You'd look ''so'' good with a subtle little something. You'd be, like, a minimalist rockstar."@@ The shop assistant perks up at the sound. @@.boy;"We do ear piercings in-store,"@@ he says, already gliding over. @@.boy;"Free with the purchase of any earrings. It's completely safe and sterile, only feels like a little pinch. We do needle piercings."@@ Luke leans over to you, holding up a small card of stud earrings. @@.luke;"Some of these are only twenty bucks,"@@ he says, flipping the card around so you can see. @@.luke;"It's like buying yourself pain with a bonus accessory."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You think I should do it?"@@ @@.luke;"I mean, I wouldn't,"@@ he states, shrugging. @@.luke;"But that's because I'd cry, and also because my mom says I already get mistaken for a celebrity too much."@@ @@.samantha;"That has literally never happened,"@@ Samantha interjects without looking up. @@.luke;"You weren't there that one time,"@@ Luke insists. You shake your head and look back at the display, suddenly unsure. Your reflection in the mirrored case stares back at you. You //look// calm and unbothered, but there's a curious flicker in your chest. You run your fingers over your earlobe without thinking. Would it look good on you? Would //you// feel good wearing it? The matte studs do look cool, and twenty dollars isn't much. Hmm... <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ If you don't have enough money, the option to get your ears pierced will appear, but you will be unable to pierce them. </div>\ <<button "Get your ears pierced" "Day 4 - 21">>\<<set $d4pierce to true>>\<<trackChoice "D4_ears_pierced" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't get your ears pierced" "Day 4 - 21">>\<<set $d4pierce to false>>\<<trackChoice "D4_ears_pierced" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/store-jewelry.png"> <<if $d4pierce is true>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $money > 19>>\ <<set $d4pierce to true>>\ <<set $nextScene to "Day 4 - Restroom">>\ <<set $money -= 20>>\ <<set $piercedears to true>>\ <<set $earrings = 1>> You turn the little black studs over in your palm, feeling their weight. They're simple and small, but something about them just feels right. You glance up at your reflection in the mirror by the counter, tilting your head to one side. Would they look good at you? Would you look good with them? @@.player;"I think I want to do it,"@@ you say. Samantha immediately lights up beside you. @@.samantha;"Yes! You're going to look so cool. I knew you had it in you."@@ Luke squints at the display, then back at you. @@.luke;"You're sure about this? I mean, it's not like a tattoo or anything, but still..."@@ You shrug, already pulling out your phone to check your balance. @@.player;"I've got enough. It's just twenty bucks, right?"@@ The shop attendant, who's been watching the scene unfold with polite enthusaism, nods. @@.boy;"Yep. Studs and the piercing included. We sanitize everything and use a needle. Quick and easy, promise."@@ @@.player;"Let's do it,"@@ you say, heart thudding. You're not sure if it's excitement or nerves. Maybe both. You follow the guy to a small section of the store. The stool is padded and clean, and he walks you through everything with calm precision. He cleans your ears, marking the spots, and double-checking placement. @@.boy;"You ready?"@@ he asks, holding the piercing device in one hand. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Go for it."@@ A sharp pinch, then the second one. You exhale. It's over before you even really register it. @@.boy;"There we go,"@@ the guy says, wiping down your ears and handing you a small mirror. @@.boy;"They suit you."@@ You study yourself in the mirror. The black studs glint ever so slightly under the store's soft lighting. They're subtle, sure, but they changed your face somehow. It's still you, but the edges feel softer. Samantha comes over and does a little gasp. @@.samantha;"Dude, you look amazing. It's such a small change but it makes a big difference."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ Luke says, nodding slowly. @@.luke;"You're like... 20% edgier now. If you wore those skinny jeans, it'd be 45%."@@ You laugh until you feel it. That creeping, telltale warmth starts from behind your ears and spreads down your neck. You go stiff, clutching the sides of the chair. Not again. Not here. The tingling is unmistakable, like static in your bloodstream. You shoot up from the stool. @@.player;"I'll, uh, be right back,"@@ you say quickly, already stepping away. You grab your receipt and phone and make beeline for the front of the store. @@.samantha;"Everything okay?"@@ Samantha calls after you, confused. <<if $friendsKnow is true>>\ @@.player;"It's the curse,"@@ you toss over your shoulder. @@.luke;"Crap,"@@ Luke mutters. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Just need the restroom,"@@ you toss over your shoulder. @@.luke;"Number two emergency,"@@ Luke whispers, which earns him a light slap from Samantha. <</if>>\ You don't slow down. The transformation is coming on fast now, and the last thing you want is to go through it in the middle of a jewelry store surrounded by mirrors. You push your way through the crowd, heart racing, and duck into the nearest men's restroom, locking the stall door behind you. Then, finally, you exhale and brace yourself. <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $d4pierce to false>>\ <<set $piercedears to false>>\ You hold the simple black studs between your fingers, turing them over. They catch the light just enough to look interesting without being flashy. Something about them makes you want to see how they'd look on you. How you //would// look, if even just a little different. The idea of getting your ears pierced wasn't something you planned when you woke up today, but now it's lodged in your head like a splinter. It doesn't feel like a dare or a rebellion. Just a quiet curiosity. You glance up. Samantha's practically vibrating beside you, hands clasped in excitement. @@.samantha;"You're seriously thinking about it, aren't you?"@@ she says, eys wide. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, $name, yes. You'd look amazing with earrings."@@ Luke chimes in from the side, still messing with a chain necklace he clearly has no intention of buying. @@.luke;"I'm telling you, man. Studs and a denim jacket? Peak transformation arc."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, maybe,"@@ you say, laughing quietly. The sales guy returns with a little smile. @@.luke;"If you decide to go through with it, the piercing's free with any earrings purchase. Takes a few minutes, tops. We'll clean everything, mark the spot, whole thing's super safe."@@ You nod, slowly. You want to say yes. You really do. But then reality hits like a spalsh of cold water. You slip your phone out of your pocket, thumbing the screen to check your bank app. Your stomach drops a little. You forgot about everything you bought. Your balance stares back at you with brutal honesty. $money @@.player;"Damn."@@ Samantha looks over. @@.samantha;"What's wrong?"@@ @@.player;"I, uh, actually don't have the cash for it."@@ Her excited expression falters just slightly. @@.samantha;"Oh."@@ @@.player;"I mean, it's fine,"@@ you add quickly, forcing a small smile. @@.player;"I kinda spent more than I thought today. It's not a big deal."@@ Luke leans in, peering at your screen like it's a group project. @@.luke;"Woah, bro, yeah you're broke-broke."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you mutter, slipping your phone back into your pocket. Samantha bumps her shoulder gently against yours. @@.samantha;"Next time then,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"You've got the face for earrings anyway. Just a matter of time."@@ You nod. Maybe next time. <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - 22">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You stare at the studs resting neatly on the display card. Samantha is still bouncing with excitement, eyes wide with anticipation. @@.samantha;"Come on,"@@ she says, tilting her head. @@.samantha;"It'd be such a glow-up."@@ The sales guy gives a polite smile, hovering nearby with the quiet patience of someone who's upsold thousands of impulse piercings. Luke, meanwhile, is spinning a rack of necklaces, trying to get it as fast as he can. @@.luke;"I think if you got, like, a single earring and wore it with sunglasses, you'd look like a hacker in a movie,"@@ he says helpfully. @@.luke;"A cool hacker. Not like a weird one."@@ You lift your fingers to your earlobe again and feel its smooth surface. You imagine the sting of the needle, the weird pressure, the awkward aftercare. Your mom will probably ask a million questions, and someone at school might give you that look. You're not even sure //why// it's making you hesitate, just that something about it doesn't feel right. @@.player;"I think I'll pass,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Not really feeling it."@@ Samantha blinks. @@.samantha;"Seriously?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you shrug. @@.player;"Maybe some other time. It's just not really me."@@ She looks like you just turned down a free kitten, then sighs dramatically. @@.samantha;"Fine. Lame, but fine."@@ The sales guy gives a polite nod and steps back. Luke finally stops the necklace stand. @@.luke;"If you change your mind, I volunteer to do it with you,"@@ he grins. @@.luke;"We could get matching lightning bolts or something."@@ @@.samantha;"You are //not// putting a lightning bolt through your ear,"@@ Samantha says flatly. @@.luke;"Why not?"@@ he shoots back. @@.luke;"It worked for Harry Potter."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"That was his forehead, Luke."@@ @@.luke;"Still counts."@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - 22">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> You're sitting on one of the benches scattered around the center of the mall. The air conditioning hums above you, and the buzz of shoppers fades into a distant background hum now that you're finally off your feet. Samantha plops down beside you, setting her many bags at her feet with a satisfied sigh. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ she declares, stretching her arms over her head. @@.samantha;"I //think// that's it for today."@@ Luke, who's sprawled on the other side of you like he's just run a marathon, glances over. @@.luke;"You think?"@@ he echoes, gesturing to the mountain of shopping bags in front of her. Samantha just rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"Oh, shut up. This is how shopping works. You wander, you try stuff, you buy stuff. That's the system."@@ Luke groans and leans back, letting his head hang off the edge of the bench. @@.luke;"I wouldn't know,"@@ he mutters. @@.luke;"Because I'm not a girl, so that apparently means I'm not biologically built for this level of mall endurance. I swear my legs are going to fall off."@@ You glance over at him, one brow raised. @@.player;"Did you even get anything?"@@ you ask. Luke sits up just enough to fumble through his pockets. @@.luke;"Nope,"@@ he says, grinning. @@.luke;"I do have this, though."@@ He triumphantly pulls out the crumpled ten-dollar bill, waving it in front of your face like it's his proudest achievement. You smirk. @@.player;"What about the Skittles?"@@ He pauses, then slowly pulls out a flattened, empty wrapper from his pocket. @@.luke;"Ate 'em all."@@ You and Samantha have no words. @@.samantha;"Either way, that's enough for one day,"@@ she says, standing up with a stretch. @@.samantha;"I've got everything I need for tomorrow."@@ Her eyes flick to you and Luke. @@.samantha;"And I //better// see you both at the back-to-school party."@@ @@.luke;"I will, I don't know about $name though,"@@ he says, flashing you a look. @@.luke;"Wouldn't want him backing out last second."@@ You make a face, but before you can reply, Samantha cuts in with a playful laugh. @@.samantha;"Oh, don't worry,"@@ she says, nudging you with her elbow. @@.samantha;"If he doesn't show up, we'll hunt him down. Party or not."@@ @@.luke;"We're gonna light it up tomorrow,"@@ Luke says, laughing as the three of you begin to head back into the main mall. @@.luke;"Just the three of us."@@ <<button "Go home" "Day 4 - 23">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-livingroomn.png"> <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $momKnow to false>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 19>>\ You quietly turn the key in the front door, hoping it won't creak too loudly. The house is dimly lit. You slip off your shoes, heart thudding as you try to sneak in, thinking you might just be able to make it to your room unnoticed. But before you can take a full step forward, a familiar figure emerges from around the corner. Your mom. She's holding a mug of tea in both hands, hair up in a loose clip, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. She doesn't raise her voice or scold you, opting to just stand there with a kind of quiet sadness. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ she says softly. @@.girl;"It's good to see you again."@@ You freeze. @@.player;"Uh... hi, Mom."@@ @@.girl;"I've been trying to give you space,"@@ she begins gently, setting the mug down on the entryway table. @@.girl;"You've been distant lately. I've been trying to look past it, hoping you'd talk to me when you're ready. But now I look at you and I can't pretend I haven't noticed."@@ Her eyes move over you, observing and trying to understand. @@.girl;"Compared to just a week ago, you look different. Softer. You've changed, and I can see it."@@ The pause that follows is heavy. @@.girl;"Care to explain what's going on?"@@ she asks. @@.girl;"Because I'm your mother, and I want to be here for you. But I can't do that if you keep hiding."@@ <<button "Downplay it" "Day 4 - 24">>\<<set $d4mom to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D4_mom_confrontation" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Open up a little" "Day 4 - 24">>\<<set $d4mom to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D4_mom_confrontation" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Deflect and joke" "Day 4 - 24">>\<<set $d4mom to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D4_mom_confrontation" 2 "story">><</button>> <<button "Say you can't tell her yet" "Day 4 - 24">>\<<set $d4mom to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D4_mom_confrontation" 3 "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ You barely make it two steps into the house before a voice cuts through the air like a sword. @@.girl;"There you are."@@ You freeze mid-step, backpack sliding slightly off your shoulder. Your heart sinks as you lift your eyes to see your mom blocking your path, arms crossed and definitely not happy. There's no time to slip past her. You were hoping to slink into your room unnoticed. But you've been caught. @@.girl;"It's good to see you again,"@@ she says. Her eyes sweep over you, quick and assessing. You wonder if she's noticed anything different. You clear your throat. @@.player;"Uhhh... hi, Mom."@@ @@.girl;"You've been gone all day,"@@ she says, brows furrowing. @@.girl;"The mall, I'm guessing? And not a single text from you. Not a single update. I thought we talked about this, $name."@@ You wince. Yeah, you did talk about it. Last time you stayed out late without checking in, she gave you the lecture. The one about responsibility and communication and how she wasn't going to track your every move but still expected respect. @@.girl;"Ho are you going to explain this, young man?"@@ she states. There's no yelling, door-slamming, or finger-pointing. But somehow, the quiet disappointment in her voice stings worse than anything else. <<button "Make an excuse" "Day 4 - 24">>\<<set $d4mom to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D4_mom_confrontation" 4 "story">><</button>> <<button "Apologize" "Day 4 - 24">>\<<set $d4mom to 5>>\<<trackChoice "D4_mom_confrontation" 5 "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-livingroomn.png"> <<if $d4mom is 0>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Oh, this?"@@ you say, gesturing vaguely to your appearance. @@.player;"it's not a big deal. Just a dare, honestly. You know how Samantha and Luke are when we're out together."@@ Your mom doesn't say anything, just looking at you quietly for a few seconds longer than is comfortable. She sighs softly and turns her head away, rubbing her temple like the day's finally cauhgt up with her. @@.girl;"Do you //really// think I'd believe that?"@@ she murmurs, almost to herself. Then she meets your eyes again. @@.girl;"You don't have to tell me everything right now, I get it. But please, when the time comes, just be honest with me."@@ You nod quickly. @@.player;"I promise,"@@ you say. She offers a tired smile and steps aside to let you pass. You head toward your room, heart still thudding in your chest. <<elseif $d4mom is 1>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You shift your weight from one foot to the other. You glance at your mom, her face soft in the dim light, and feel your defenses weaken just a little. @@.player;"Okay, fine,"@@ you murmur, not quite meeting her eyes. @@.player;"I've just been experimenting with some stuff. Trying out a new look, I guess."@@ There's a brief pause, just long enough to make your chest tighten, but then your mom steps forward without hesitation and pulls you into a hug. @@.girl;"Oh, sweetheart,"@@ she says softly, her hand gently stroking your back. @@.girl;"You don't have to explain everything all at once. I know you've been carrying something."@@ You stay quiet for a moment, letting yourself melt into the embrace. She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes searching yours. @@.girl;"If there ever comes a time when you want to talk more, about anything, I want to be someone you can come to."@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"Okay, Mom."@@ She gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and smiles before turning to the kitchen. You stand there a beat longer, alone again in the quiet hallway. Your thoughts are still tangled, sure, but your chest feels a bit lighter than before. <<elseif $d4mom is 2>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You force a small smile, already mentally reaching for the nearest joke. @@.player;"Hey, it's called fashion, Mom,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Something you wouldn't understand since you're ancient. No offense."@@ That earns a subtle brow raise, but no real smile. @@.player;"But seriously,"@@ you continue, trying to sound as breeze as possible, @@.player;"Luke and Samantha and I were just goofing off at the mall. You know how it is. They dared me to try some stuff. I figured I might as well look fabulous for a day."@@ There's a long pause where her gaze lingers on you. It's the one she uses when she's trying to figure out if you're hiding something. Which, to be fair, you are. @@.girl;"$name, don't even try,"@@ she says, sighing. @@.girl;"You've changed more than that. I might be tired, but I'm not blind."@@ You shift, unsure of what to say. @@.girl;"I won't push you,"@@ she continues, her eyes meeting yours again. @@.girl;"But just promise you'll be honest with me when the time comes. That's all I ask."@@ @@.player;"I promise,"@@ you say, the words coming quieter than you expected. She gives a small nod and then steps aside, letting you pass without another word. <<elseif $d4mom is 3>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I don't know how to explain it,"@@ you say, voice soft, the words catching slightly on the way out. @@.player;"Things are changing. And not in the 'I tried something new' way, but a weird way. It's different and I didn't really ask for any of it."@@ You pause, rubbing the back of your neck, unable to meet her eyes now. @@.player;"I'm really not trying to keep you in the dark or anything,"@@ you continue, slower now. @@.player;"It's just a lot for me, and even I don't understand it all yet. I promise I'll tell you more later, but for now... could you just let me off the hook."@@ For a moment, there's silence. Then she steps froward. @@.girl;"Oh, sweetie,"@@ she murmurs, and pulls you into a hug. It's warm and familiar. One of those hugs that makes you feel safe and small, even if everything else feels too big to talk about. @@.girl;"You don't have to tell me everything,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"But I ''know'' something's going on, and I know it's bigger than a phase or a prank with your friends. Just don't shut me out forever. When you're ready, I want to understand. I //want// to be there for you."@@ @@.player;"Okay, Mom,"@@ you whisper. <<elseif $d4mom is 4>>\ You shift your weight awkwardly, gripping the strap of your backpack a little tighter. Your mom's eyes are locked on yours, waiting. The air is heavy with expectation, and it's not the good kind. You plaster on a casual smile and let out a breathy chuckle, hoping to diffuse the tension. @@.player;"We just lost track of time at the mall,"@@ you say, waving a hand like it's no big deal. @@.player;"Samantha wanted to hit every single store, and you //know// how she gets when she's on a shopping spree. She was buying one thing after another. I swear, Luke and I were just along for the ride."@@ You keep your tone light, like you're telling a funny store, hoping she'll crack a smile or roll her eyes and let it go. She doesn't. Instead, her expression hardens. @@.girl;"You're late,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"And now you're making up an excuse without even thinking to apologize?"@@ Your heart sinks. You open your mouth to respond, to maybe backpedal a little, but she keeps going. @@.girl;"$name, I don't care if Samantha was trying on every dress in California,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"You should've messaged me. A single text. That's all I ask."@@ @@.player;"I know, I—"@@ @@.girl;"I'm letting you off the hook this time,"@@ she says firmly. @@.girl;"But only because your back-to-school party is tomorrow and I don't want to make you miss out on that."@@ Relief floods your chest. @@.girl;"But don't make this mistake again,"@@ she warns, eyes narrowing slightly. @@.girl;"I'm serious. Next time, I won't be so generous."@@ You nod quickly. @@.player;"I promise."@@ She doesn't say anything else. Just gives you one last look before stepping aside and walking into the kitchen. You exhale, shoulders sagging the moment her back is turned. That could've gone worse, you were lucky this time. <<elseif $d4mom is 5>>\ You shift your weight uneasily, bracing yourself. The silence between you and your mom stretches. There's no excuse that would feel right, though, so you just go with the truth. @@.player;"I'm really sorry, Mom,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"I wasn't trying to make you worry or be irresponsible or anything like that. I was just caught up having fun with Luke and Samantha, and I forgot to message you. That was my bad."@@ Your mom studies you carefully, like she's deciding whether your apology is genuine or just another attempt at damage control. @@.girl;"Hmmm,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"You know I'm not mad that you were out. I want you to spend time with your friends. But when I don't hear from you all day, I really do start to worry. I didn't even know where you were."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you nod, eyes low. @@.player;"It won't happen again."@@ She sighs, her expression softening. @@.girl;"I'm letting you off without a grounding,"@@ she says, her voice gentler. now. @@.girl;"Mainly because your back-to-school party is tomorrow, and I don't want you to miss out. But don't make me chase you down again. I need to know that I can trust you to check in."@@ @@.player;"I promise,"@@ you say. She gives you a small nod, and now you're in the clear. <</if>>\ <<button "Go to your room" "Day 4 - 25">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png">\ <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ The mall trip today was a lot more than you expected. You ran into Aurora and Jordan, and while you're not sure where either of those threads will lead, they've lodged themselves in your mind anyway. Now that you're back home, the usual comfort of your room settles over you. You step into the bathroom and go through the motions of your nightly routine. Brushing your teeth, washing your face, and showering. The steam helps clear your head, sure, but it doesn't wash away the tension humming beneath your skin. You're changing in ways that feel more permanent now. <<if $plushie is true>>\ After toweling off, you grab your newest companion. There's something reassuring about placing $plushieName next to your pillow and giving him a gentle pat on the head. <</if>>\ You slip under the covers and lie still for a while, the room dark. The back-to-school party feels surreal. A party, after everything that's happened? But maybe that's exactly what you need. A night to pretend things are normal. Or maybe to figure out what your new normal looks like. But all of that will have to wait. You'll figure it out tomorrow. <<button "Continue" "Day 5 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> You look at the first question to see that it's deceptively simple: "Who are you right now?" You jot down the question in the first page of your journal and think about how you should answer it. <<button "I'm conflicted and confused" "Day 4 - 4">>\<<set $journalw1q1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q1" "confused" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'm still the same person" "Day 4 - 4">>\<<set $journalw1q1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q1" "same" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'm changing as a person" "Day 4 - 4">>\<<set $journalw1q1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q1" "changing" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> You put your pencil on the paper and start writing. <<if $journalw1q1 is 0>>\ //Right now, I'm honestly not sure who I am. I feel like I'm in between something. Everyone probably sees me as the same old guy they've always seen, but I don't feel the same inside. Something weird is happening to me, physically and emotionally, and I'm losing control of who I used to be. I'm trying to act like nothing's wrong, but every day, I feel like I'm changing.// <<elseif $journalw1q1 is 1>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ //I'm still the same person I've always been. Just $name. I like hanging out with Luke and Samantha, not taking things too seriously, and just being an average guy. Nothing's changed at all except this problem I've been having. I hope I can resolve this stupid problem, move on from it, and not have to deal with it anymore.// <<else>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ //Right now, I'm...evolving, to say the least. It's weird, but I feel I'm not exactly the same person I was even a few days ago. There's this strange pull as if I'm growing into something different. I don't know what that is yet, but part of me is curious and eager to find out. Maybe people still see me as $name, but I'm not sure that's the full picture anymore.// <</if>>\ You nod, satisfied with your answer. You move on to the next question, which asks "how do you adapt to unexpected challenges?" You take a second to think yet again—this one was difficult too. What did you rely on when you faced a hurdle? <<button "I rely on my brain" "Day 4 - 5">>\<<set $journalw1q2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q2" "brain" "story">><</button>> <<button "I rely on my body" "Day 4 - 5">>\<<set $journalw1q2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q2" "body" "story">><</button>> <<button "I rely on my social skills" "Day 4 - 5">>\<<set $journalw1q2 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q2" "social skills" "story">><</button>> <<button "I rely on my popularity" "Day 4 - 5">>\<<set $journalw1q2 to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q2" "popularity" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> You begin writing another answer. <<if $journalw1q2 is 0>>\ <<set $study to Math.clamp($study + 3, 0, 100)>>\ //When something unexpected happens, I rely on my brain to figure it out. I like to break things down and analyze the situation before I react. Whether it's a tough test or something weird, I try to comprehend what's going on first.// <<elseif $journalw1q2 is 1>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 3, 0, 100)>>\ //When something unpredictable comes my way, I trust my instincts and act fast. I've always been good at sports because I know how to think quick on my feet.// <<elseif $journalw1q2 is 2>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social + 3, 0, 100)>>\ //When things don't go as planned, I lean on my ability to talk through it and get a read on people. I've always been good at understanding how others feel and using my words and communication skills.// <<else>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ //I've always been pretty popular, so when unexpected challenges come up, I rely on my social status to handle it. People like me, so I can usually laugh things off and dismiss it. I just need to stay confident and keep my place in the social scene.// <</if>>\ You move on to the last question, and this one makes you think as well. It asks "what do you want to do after senior year?" You tap your pencil against your chin, wondering what exactly you want to do after this school year is up. <<button "I want to do something academic" "Day 4 - 6">>\<<set $journalw1q3 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q3" "academic" "story">><</button>> <<button "I want to do something active" "Day 4 - 6">>\<<set $journalw1q3 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q3" "active" "story">><</button>> <<button "I want to do something mysterious" "Day 4 - 6">>\<<set $journalw1q3 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q3" "mysterious" "story">><</button>> <<button "I want to do something flashy" "Day 4 - 6">>\<<set $journalw1q3 to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q3" "flashy" "story">><</button>> <<button "I want to do something artsy" "Day 4 - 6">>\<<set $journalw1q3 to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D4_journal_q3" "artsy" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> You write down your final answer. <<if $journalw1q3 is 0>>\ //After senior year, I definitely want to go to a good college. I want to put a lot of effort into my studies and hope it'll pay off with some scholarship offers. I'm thinking of going into STEM, something practical that will help me in the future. I know it's going to be competitive, but I can make it happen.// <<elseif $journalw1q3 is 1>>\ //Honestly, I'm still figuring it out. I never really thought much about anything beyond school, but lately, I've been thinking about doing something more active. I realize I like the physical side of things, maybe something in fitness or performance. I want to feel more confident in how I move.// <<elseif $journalw1q3 is 2>>\ //I'm not totally sure at the moment, but I've been getting interested in the unexplained. I know it sounds weird, but I've been thinking about exploring areas that deal with hidden knowledge or stuff that people don't usually talk about. There's something that really pulls me to this topic.// <<elseif $journalw1q3 is 3>>\ //I want to pursue something flashy, like something in performance. Maybe theater or dance. I never had much of an interest in this personally, but I've always admired people who could express themselves on stage. I'm not sure if I can do it, but maybe I'll see about the school's theatre production.// <<else>>\ //After high school, I'm hoping to do something artsy. I've never been the best at art, but I feel drawn to it, and I wouldn't mind doing it more in the future. I think it would be really cool to be able to make my own creations for a living, and I'm going to look into this in the future.// <</if>>\ You set down your pencil, satisfied with all your answers. You think you did a good job, although your thoughts on all these topics could be very different by the end of the year. You wait until the rest of the class finishes, and Ms. Carter tells you all to get with your partner to discuss your answers. <<button "Talk to Jessica" "Day 4 - 7">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> Jessica doesn't say anything at first. She sits with her journal open in her lap, turning her pen slowly between her fingers like she's waiting for something—maybe the right words, maybe the right moment. The sunlight from the classroom window catches the gold in her hair, but even with all that shine and polish, there's a strange stillness about her. You're used to seeing her in motion: laughing with friends in the hallway, flipping her ponytail at practice, taking over any room she walks into. But right now, next to you, she seems quieter. When she finally speaks though, it's with that same easy tone you've heard before. @@.jessica;"Alright, partner,"@@ she says, tilting her head toward you with a grin. @@.jessica;"Journal exchange time."@@ @@.player;"You go first,"@@ you say. Jessica smirks. @@.jessica;"Coward,"@@ she teases, then sighs a little. @@.jessica;"Fine. Let's see..."@@ She taps the page with her pen before reading. @@.jessica;"First question: how would I describe myself?"@@ She pauses for a second, eyes on her paper. Then she starts reciting, her voice breezy, almost like she's reading from a profile bio. @@.jessica;"Jessica Sanders. Cheer captain. Straight-A student. Known to dominate a Starbucks menu and a dance floor."@@ She looks over at you, her grin widening. @@.jessica;"Pretty accurate, right?"@@ @@.player;"Definitely sounds like you,"@@ you reply, chuckling. @@.jessica;"Yeah, well."@@ She shrugs. @@.jessica;"People already have a version of me in their heads. No point fighting it."@@ Her tone's light, but you catch something faint just beneath the surface. Not resentment, but fatigue. She shifts in her seat, tucking her legs neatly beneath the desk. @@.jessica;"It's weird though. I feel like most people don't really want to know anything past that stuff. Like... they see the makeup and the popularity and they assume I've got everything figured out."@@ Her voice grows softer. @@.jessica;"Which, sure, I guess I //do// in a lot of ways. But not all of them. I mean—"@@ she catches herself, straightens a little, and clears her throat. @@.jessica;"Anyway. That's what I wrote. Nothing too deep. Just me."@@ You nod, unsure if you should say something. If anything you could say would even mean anything. There's a tension in her now, the kind that comes from brushing too close to something real. She moves on before you can respond. @@.jessica;"Second question—how I handle unexpected challenges."@@ She leans back in her chair, thinking. @@.jessica;"I put that I'm good under pressure. Because I kinda have to be. Like, if something goes wrong during a cheer routine, you've got half a second to fix it before someone falls or twists their ankle or the whole pyramid collapses. So I guess I've just... trained myself to be cool about it. On the outside, at least."@@ She picks at the edge of her journal page with one neatly manicured nail. @@.jessica;"And for the last question... what I want to do in the future."@@ She exhales, the first real break in her flow. @@.jessica;"That one was harder."@@ @@.player;"How come?"@@ you ask, tilting your head. Jessica gives a wry little laugh. @@.jessica;"Probably because I don't really //know//. I wrote that I want to do something with media or communications. Maybe work in fashion or marketing. Something where I get to travel and be seen. But..."@@ She pauses, then adds in a softer voice. @@.jessica;"Sometimes I wonder if that's what //I// want, or if it's just what I'm supposed to want. You know?"@@ You nod slowly. She quickly brightens again, like she's flipping a switch. @@.jessica;"Anyway. I figure I've got time to figure it out, right? Senior year //is// for experimenting, after all."@@ The mask is back—subtle, but there. She leans toward you, resting her chin on her hand. @@.jessica;"Okay, your turn. What'd you put down, mystery partner?"@@ <<if $journalw1q1 is 0>>\ You clear your throat. @@.player;"Well, for the first one, I kept it kind of vague. I wrote that I'm not really sure who I am right now."@@ Jessica's brows raise a little at that, but she doesn't say anything—just tilts her head, listening. @@.player;"I guess... I feel like I'm in this weird in-between space,"@@ you continue, choosing your words carefully. @@.player;"People still treat me like I haven't changed, like I'm the same guy I've always been. But lately, I don't really feel that way. It's like something is shifting. I don't know. I didn't go super deep into it, but that's the gist of it."@@ Jessica hums thoughtfully, her gaze drifting toward the front of the classroom for a second before returning to you. @@.jessica;"That's kind of deep,"@@ she says softly, almost like she wasn't expecting it. @@.jessica;"I get that though... sometimes it's not easy to pin yourself down when things are moving under the surface."@@ You nod, grateful she doesn't push further. She doesn't need to know what's //really// going on. Not yet, at least. <<elseif $journalw1q1 is 1>>\ You let out a small breath through your nose and lean back a bit. @@.player;"My answer to the first question was kind of boring,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I just said I'm the same as always. Nothing special."@@ Jessica gives a little smirk. @@.jessica;"Define 'boring.'"@@ @@.player;"I don't know. I hang out with Luke and Samantha. I mess around. Try not to take things too seriously,"@@ you say with a shrug. @@.player;"I've got this one annoying problem going on, but I'm hoping I can get past it soon and move on."@@ Jessica taps her pen against her desk. @@.jessica;"Sounds nice, honestly. Stable."@@ There's something behind her tone that you can't quite make out. You glance over at her, then down at your journal. @@.player;"Not sure how long I'll feel that way, though?"@@ Jessica doesn't respond right away, but her smile softens just a little. Maybe she understands more than she lets on. <<else>>\ You run a hand through your hair, trying to find the right words. @@.player;"I said that I feel like I'm evolving."@@ Jessica blinks, surprised—but intrigued. @@.jessica;"Evolving?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you nod slowly. @@.player;"I know it sounds kind of dramatic, but... I just feel like I'm not the same person I was even a few days ago. Something's changing, and I don't know what it is yet. But it feels like I'm heading somewhere new, even if I can't quite see it yet."@@ Jessica's eyes narrow, not in judgment, but in contemplation. @@.jessica;"That's kind of cool,"@@ she says finally. @@.jessica;"Most people don't even notice when they're changing. If you think about it, you're already ahead of the curve."@@ @@.player;"Or I'm just confused,"@@ you murmur, shrugging. She laughs at that. @@.jessica;"Same thing."@@ <</if>>\ You glance down at your journal for a second before answering. The second question was about how you adapt to unexpected challenges. <<if $journalw1q2 is 0>>\ @@.player;"For the second one, I wrote that I usually try to break things down,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Like, I need to understand what's going on before I react."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"You're a thinker, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I guess I am,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"Even when stuff gets weird or overwhelming, I like to look at the facts. Whether it's a test or something I don't totally understand, I want to make sense of it first. That really helps me to stay calm."@@ @@.jessica;"That sounds... kind of grounding,"@@ she says, nodding slowly. @@.jessica;"Like you don't let your emotions take over."@@ You tilt your head. @@.player;"Well, I certainly try not to. It doesn't always work, though."@@ She smiles faintly, like she appreciates the honesty. @@.jessica;"Still. Beats spiraling."@@ <<elseif $journalw1q2 is 1>>\ @@.player;"I put down that I usually rely on my body when things go sideways,"@@ you say, stretching your legs out a little beneath the desk. @@.player;"Not like, fight-or-flight, just that I'm used to dealing with challenges physically. Sports, movement... that kind of thing."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow, intrigued. @@.jessica;"So, what does that mean? Do you, like, throw yourself at problems?"@@ @@.player;"Not literally,"@@ you reply, letting out a small laugh. @@.player;"But when I'm in a tough spot, I get moving. I think better when I'm doing something. Playing volleyball or going for a run—anything that helps me feel grounded. My body knows what to do before my head catches up sometimes."@@ @@.jessica;"You know,"@@ Jessica begins, tapping her pen against her journal, @@.jessica;"I kind of envy that. I overthink ''everything''. Sometimes I feel like I get stuck in my head and forget I even have a body."@@ You smile. @@.player;"That happens to me too, sometimes. But I've learned that if I keep myself moving, even just stretching, it helps the rest fall into place. Physical momentum turns into mental momentum."@@ Jessica looks thoughtful at that, her gaze drifting. @@.jessica;"Makes sense. I guess we all have different ways of staying steady when things get weird."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, meeting her eyes for a moment. @@.player;"Whatever keeps you balanced, right?"@@ She nods, then looks back down at her journal, the corner of her mouth twitching like she's turning something over in her head. <<elseif $journalw1q2 is 2>>\ @@.player;"I wrote that I try to talk my way through things,"@@ you say, giving a small shrug. @@.player;"I'm usually good at reading people, so I use that to my advantage."@@ Jessica perks up slightly. @@.jessica;"Really?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah. When things get unpredictable, I pay attention to how people are reacting. I try to understand what they're feeling and work with that. It's easier when you're not alone in it."@@ She considers that, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. @@.jessica;"You sound like a counselor or something."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Maybe. I think people underestimate how much a conversation can solve."@@ Jessica nods. @@.jessica;"No kidding."@@ There's a pause between you, a quiet understanding hanging in the air. Maybe she knows what it's like to hide behind words, too. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I said I usually lean on my popularity,"@@ you say with a half-smile, knowing how it sounds. @@.player;"If something unexpected happens, I can usually shrug it off. People don't expect me to be shaken up, so I just play the part."@@ Jessica's expression shifts—interest, surprise, maybe even a sliver of recognition. @@.jessica;"Wow. Honest answer."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It works. People like confidence. And if you act like everything's fine, most of the time, they believe it."@@ @@.jessica;"Trust me,"@@ Jessica says, giving a short laugh. @@.jessica;"I get it."@@ You glance sideways at her. @@.player;"Yeah, I figured you might."@@ Her smile lingers for a beat longer than usual, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. @@.jessica;"Confidence really can be a good mask."@@ You don't say anything right away. Maybe because you're not sure what's under yours either. <</if>>\ <<if $journalw1q3 is 0>>\ You glance down at your journal, fingers drumming lightly against the edge. @@.player;"For the last question, I said I want to go to a good college. Hopefully one with a strong STEM program."@@ @@.jessica;"Ooh,"@@ Jessica says, perking up. @@.jessica;"What kind of STEM?"@@ @@.player;"Well, I'm not totally sure yet,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"Maybe some sort of engineering? Something that'll land me a job when all of this is over."@@ She nods slowly. @@.jessica;"So you're the responsible type."@@ @@.player;"I guess?"@@ you say, uncertain. @@.player;"What I //really// want are options. Scholarships, stability, you know? It's competitive, but I'm willing to put in the work."@@ @@.jessica;"That's cool,"@@ she says, expression softening in a way that doesn't quite reach her eyes. @@.jessica;"Must be nice, knowing what you want."@@ You glance over at her, curious about the edge in her voice, but she looks away before you can get a good read. The smile she gives you next is practiced and perfect, but maybe just a little tired. <<elseif $journalw1q3 is 1>>\ You shift in your seat. Jessica's looking at you expectantly, one eyebrow raised. @@.player;"I wasn't sure how to put it exactly,"@@ you finally say. @@.player;"But for the last question, I wrote about how I've been thinking of doing something more active after high school."@@ Jessica tilts her head. @@.jessica;"Like sports?"@@ @@.player;"Sort of,"@@ you say, scratching the back of your neck. @@.player;"But not in the typical way. I don't mean, like, going pro or anything like that. It's just I've been realizing that I actually really like the physical side of things. Moving. Being in sync with a group. Feeling strong, coordinated, and sharp. I don't think I've ever appreciated that part of myself before."@@ @@.jessica;"Huh,"@@ she says, studying you for a beat. @@.jessica;"That's kind of surprising, actually. You don't seem like the... movement type."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I know,"@@ you grin. @@.player;"I'm usually the type of guy who just chills in the background. But lately, I've been thinking it might be nice to... I don't know. Be more visible. Do something that pushes me."@@ @@.jessica;"Pushing yourself can be good,"@@ she says, her voice thoughtful. @@.jessica;"And being a part of a group like that? It's underrated. There's something addictive about it, when it clicks."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You say that like you've experienced it."@@ Jessica just shrugs, her nails catching the light. @@.jessica;"Maybe I have."@@ <<elseif $journalw1q3 is 2>>\ You hesitate, then speak carefully. @@.player;"I said I'm not totally sure, but I've been drawn to... the unexplained. Weird stuff. Hidden knowledge. I ''know'' that sounds kind of out there."@@ Jessica blinks. @@.jessica;"Out there how? Like conspiracy theories? Or, like, crystals and incense?"@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"More like... mysteries. Things people don't talk about. The stuff behind the curtain."@@ @@.jessica;"Kind of spooky, don't you think?"@@ she asks, intrigued but guarded. You shrug. @@.player;"Maybe it is. But it feels... important somehow. I don't know what it means yet. I just want to follow that thread and see where it goes."@@ Jessica pauses, tapping her nails against her journal. @@.jessica;"That's... actually kind of cool. Like your own mystery novel or something."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, smiling faintly. @@.player;"I guess I just want to understand things that don't make sense. Or maybe understand myself."@@ She nods, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze, before she glances away. @@.jessica;"Well, if you uncover any secrets of the universe, let me know."@@ <<elseif $journalw1q3 is 3>>\ You clear your throat. @@.player;"I, uh... I wrote that I might want to try something performative. Theater, maybe. Dance."@@ Jessica's eyes widen. @@.jessica;"Really? That's a plot twist."@@ You laugh, a little embarrassed. @@.player;"Yeah, I've never actually done it before, but lately... I've been thinking about it. It's scary, but kind of exciting too."@@ She smiles, a little softer than usual. @@.jessica;"I totally get that. There's something really powerful about being able to express yourself on a stage. Like you can be loud in ways you're not allowed to be in real life."@@ @@.player;"Exactly!"@@ you exclaim, surprised by how easily she put it into words. @@.player;"It's not even about being seen, really. It's more about... having space to figure yourself out. In front of people, sure, but also just... for yourself."@@ Jessica looks thoughtful for a second. @@.jessica;"You should do it. Seriously. If you ever want to try out, let me know. I can get you in."@@ @@.player;"You're part of the theater department too?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"No,"@@ she says before grinning. @@.jessica;"But I have connections."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"For the third question, I said I want to do something creative,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Art, maybe. I'm not super good at it or anything, but it's been pulling at me."@@ Jessica tilts her head. @@.jessica;"Like painting?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, maybe. Drawing. Designing. Just anything that lets me make something that feels like me, I guess."@@ She smiles at that. @@.jessica;"That's beautiful. I think everyone wishes they could do that."@@ @@.player;"I don't know if I'll ever be great at it,"@@ you say, rubbing your neck. @@.player;"But lately, it's been one of the only things that feels... right. Like I'm allowed to make things just for the sake of it."@@ Jessica's eyes drift for a moment, deep in thought. @@.jessica;"That's rare, you know? Most people don't even let themselves admit they want that."@@ @@.player;"What about you?"@@ you ask. She waves you off with a laugh that doesn't quite match her expression. @@.jessica;"I'm too much of a control freak. I'd probably lose my mind with a blank canvas."@@ But something in her tone makes you think she's not telling the whole truth. <</if>>\ Jessica leans back in her chair, and for a second, she doesn't say anything. She just gives you this quiet, thoughtful look like she's trying to read more between the lines but doesn't want to push. Then she smiles. Not her usual dazzling, performative kind of smile, but something softer. @@.jessica;"Thanks for sharing that,"@@ she says gently. @@.jessica;"You didn't have to, at least not in this much detail, but... I'm glad you did."@@ You shrug, trying to play it off. @@.player;"Felt right, I guess."@@ @@.jessica;"Sometimes it's easier to write this stuff than say it out loud, huh?"@@ You glance down at your own writing, the words still fresh and a little raw. @@.player;"Yeah. Definitely."@@ Ms. Carter's voice rises again from the front of the room, giving a few reminders as the activity winds down. You and Jessica both look forward, journals still open in your hands. Everything should be the same, but something feels a little different now. <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - 8">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> The cafeteria's already halfway to chaos when Samantha slides into her seat across from you, tray clattering dramatically. Her smile is way too pleased with itself for it to be anything good. @@.samantha;"Guess where we are going today!"@@ she declares. You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Let me guess. The DMV."@@ She ignores you. @@.samantha;"//The mall.//"@@ Luke looks up from his tray, mouth full of food and eyes blank. @@.luke;"Wait, like... //all// of us?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, genius. You, me, and $name. The holy trinity."@@ She points her fork at each of you like she's casting a spell. @@.samantha;"The coolest group in school, obviously."@@ Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Since when are we the coolest group in school?"@@ Samantha sighs. @@.samantha;"Since I said so. Keep up."@@ @@.luke;"Well, //I// always thought we were somewhere in the above-average but forgettable range,"@@ Luke mutters, furrowing his brow like he's doing math in his head. @@.luke;"Y'know, like... the background characters in a teen drama."@@ @@.samantha;"Okay, Puke,"@@ Samantha says, whacking him lightly on the back of the head. @@.samantha;"First of all, no more talking. Second of all, you are singlehandedly dragging our social status into the dirt with that attitude."@@ Luke nearly chokes on his juice. @@.luke;"Why do I always get called Puke?!"@@ @@.player;"It //is// kinda catchy,"@@ you say. Samantha leans back in her chair like she's surveying her empire. @@.samantha;"Anyway. We're going shopping. For the back-to-school party. I need clothes. You need clothes. Luke ''especially'' needs clothes."@@ @@.luke;"Hey!"@@ Luke looks down at his T-shirt, which has a dog wearing a baseball cap backwards. @@.luke;"...Okay, valid, but still rude."@@ @@.samantha;"We're going,"@@ Samantha says, stabbing a baby carrot for emphasis. @@.samantha;"No complaints. No excuses. No, 'I'm busy walking my hamster' or 'I'm allergic to capitalism.' You're coming."@@ Luke raises a tentative hand like a student in class. @@.luke;"What if I'm—"@@ @@.samantha;"No,"@@ she interrupts. @@.luke;"I didn't even say what I was gonna say yet!"@@ @@.samantha;"You were going to say 'what if I'm busy,' and then list a schedule consisting of video games, snacks, and watching that YouTuber who reviews cheese."@@ Luke looks genuinely offended. @@.luke;"First of all, his name is CheddarDan and he's educational."@@ Samantha turns to you with a deadpan stare. @@.samantha;"$name, //please// tell me you're smarter than this one."@@ You shrug, trying not to smile. @@.player;"I mean, I'm free."@@ @@.samantha;"See?"@@ she says, triumphant, gesturing at you like she just won custody of you after a messy divorce. @@.samantha;"Be more like $name."@@ Luke sighs, clearly defeated, but trying to hold onto some semblance of pride. @@.luke;"Fine. I'll go. But if anyone tries to put me in a sparkly top, I'm leaving."@@ @@.samantha;"No promises,"@@ Samantha says, grinning. @@.samantha;"I think you'd look adorable in glitter."@@ @@.luke;"I think I'd rather die."@@ You watch them bicker back and forth with the ease of longtime friends, and honestly? As chaotic as it sounds, the idea of spending an afternoon with them at the mall... doesn't sound half bad. Even if someone ends up getting glitter in their eyes. Probably Luke. Definitely Luke. <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - 9">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-hallway.png"> <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ As you make your way through the crowded hallway, you catch a shift in the usual noise—just enough to notice. A small group of girls huddled by the lockers glance your way mid-conversation, and you hear your name in the mix, soft but unmistakable. When your eyes meet theirs, the chatter cuts off instantly, replaced by awkward smiles and diverted gazes. You keep walking, pretending not to notice, but something prickles under your skin. You're not sure what they were saying, but you're pretty sure it was about you. <<else>>\ You move through the hallway toward your next class, the usual mix of sneakers squeaking and voices speaking echoing off the walls. No one spares you a second glance. It's just another ordinary shuffle between periods, and you're just another face in the crowd. <</if>>\ Someone suddenly steps into your path. You stop abruptly, blinking in surprise as your eyes meet hers. Aurora Rowan. She stands directly in front of you, blocking your way with unnerving precision. Her outfit is all black, the fabric hugging her frame in crisp, clean lines. Silver jewelry gleams at her wrists and ears, and her hair catches the sunlight filtering through the hallway window. Before you can say a word, she raises a finger to her lips. @@.aurora;"Shh,"@@ she breathes. <<set $auroraMeetingCG to true>>\ <<set $auroraCGhair to 0>>\ <<set $auroraCGeyes to 0>>\ <<if $hairProg is 2>>\ <<set $auroraCGhair to 2>>\ <<elseif $hairProg is 3>>\ <<set $auroraCGhair to 3>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $eyesProg is 1>>\ <<set $auroraCGeyes to 1>>\ <<elseif $eyesProg is 2 or $eyesProg is 3>>\ <<set $auroraCGeyes to 2>>\ <</if>>\ \ <<include "CG_AuroraMeeting">>\ <<grantAchievement "MeetAurora">>\ Your breath catches. She's close and her voice is quiet but charged, like the stillness before a thunderclap. Her eyes scan your face like she's memorizing every line of it. Then she tilts her head slightly, her lips curling into something between curiosity and certainty. @@.aurora;"You're changing,"@@ she says softly, but there's no question in it. Just fact. Your throat tightens. @@.player;"I—I don't know what you're talking about,"@@ you manage, the words clumsy as they leave your mouth. Aurora just arches a brow. @@.aurora;"You do. Maybe not everything. Not yet. But something's already shifting."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean by 'shifting'?"@@ you ask, taking a step back. She lets her oddly knowing gaze wander over you, then meets your eyes again. @@.aurora;"You feel it, don't you? Like something's unraveling."@@ You swallow hard. The hallway suddenly feels too quiet, too still. @@.player;"How do you even—"@@ you start to ask, but she cuts you off with a small motion of her hand. @@.aurora;"I see magic,"@@ she says simply. @@.aurora;"The real kind of magic. The kind that weaves itself into people. And you..."@@ Her eyes narrow just slightly, like she's watching something take shape behind your skin. @@.aurora;"You're wrapped in it. Not cursed, not really. Just... waking up."@@ You freeze. Aurora isn't guessing. She //knows//. Your voice feels small in your throat. @@.player;"What am I supposed to do?"@@ Aurora studies you for a long moment, like she's weighing how much to say. Then a slow, almost sad smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. She's not pitying you, but she //does// know something. @@.aurora;"When you're ready to stop fighting it, come find me,"@@ she says, her voice softer now. @@.aurora;"I can help you understand what this really is. But be careful. The longer you resist, the harder it'll be to hear what your heart's been trying to tell you."@@ She steps back, the sunlight glinting off the silver on her wrists. She turns, and by the time your eyes follow, she's already slipping into the passing tide of students. One blink, and she's gone—no trace, no silhouette. You're left standing there, not quite knowing what to think. Maybe you would take her up on her offer and seek her out later, but for now, you had to get to class. <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - 10">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/store-boutique0.png"> <<set $friendsKnow to true>>\ <<if $d2tell is true>>\ Your chest is rising and falling too fast, your breath catching in your throat as you press your back to the cool wall to try and calm the panic clawing its way up your spine. Fuck. You just transformed again. And this time, it was in a mall changing room. In a brightly lit store filled with mirrors and strangers and your two best friends just outside. You grip the edge of the little bench in your room, you knuckles whitening. Your reflection in the full-length mirror looks unfamiliar yet again. You close your eyes. Okay, you've done this before. And thankfully, you've already told Samantha and Luke about the curse. That's a major difference. You're not alone anymore. You can breathe. You force yourself to inhale through your nose, slow and deep, like your mom used to tell you when you were a kid and panicking about presentations. Then you exhale through your mouth, hands trembling a little as you straighten up. You open the door. Samantha turns to you immediately. She stops mid-scroll on her phone the moment she sees your face. @@.samantha;"Woah, $name,"@@ she says, eyes narrowing as she takes you in. @@.samantha;"What the hell just happened? Did the curse hit again?"@@ Luke turns to and his eyebrows shoot up. @@.luke;"Dude..."@@ You scratch the back of your neck. @@.player;"Yeah, it happened again,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Just now."@@ @@.samantha;"In there?"@@ Samantha jerks a thumb toward the fitting room. @@.samantha;"You're kidding. At the mall?"@@ You shrug, still rattled but trying to downplay it. @@.player;"Apparently, skinny jeans are a high-risk object."@@ Samantha doesn't laugh, instead just watching you with those sharp green eyes of hers. @@.samantha;"Are you okay?"@@ she asks quietly. @@.samantha;"Like, for real?"@@ You hesitate, but then nod. @@.player;"I think so. It was weird, but not painful. Just intense, I guess. I didn't expect it to happen here."@@ Luke frowns. @@.luke;"That's freaky, man. You sure it's over? Like, you're not mid-transformation or something?"@@ @@.player;"I don't think so,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I feel fine. Just... different. Again."@@ @@.samantha;"Well, at least you didn't turn into a mall mannequin or something,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Now that would've been a real nightmare."@@ @@.player;"I'm just glad I told you guys already,"@@ you murmur, eyes flicking between the two of them. @@.player;"If I hadn't, this would've been so much worse."@@ @@.luke;"Seriously,"@@ Luke nods, his tone suddenly more grounded. @@.luke;"You'd be in there all freaking out while we're out here arguing about something."@@ Samantha sighs. @@.samantha;"Hey. Look at me. You're okay, right? We've got you. Weird curse or not, you're still our best friend, $name. Even if you're under a fashionable haunting or whatever."@@ @@.player;"Fashionably haunted?"@@ you ask, letting out a small laugh. She shrugs. @@.samantha;"Well, you //were// trying on skinny jeans. That's already a cursed activity for you."@@ @@.luke;"Let us know if you grow a second head or turn into a goat or something,"@@ Luke says, his usual grin returning. @@.luke;"I'll keep it a secret. Probably."@@ You smile. You're nervous, yet miles steadier than you were a few minutes ago. You don't feel normal, not by a long shot. But you feel better with your friend's support. <<else>>\ You're still staring at the mirror, breath coming too fast, heart hammering like a drum in your ears. The overhead lights buzz faintly, but they might as well be floodlights with how exposed you suddenly feel. You transformed in a mall changing room. You blink rapidly, trying to steady yourself, but your vision is swimming. The walls feel like they're closing in, the bench pressing against the back of your knees like it's daring you to collapse. You've been through this before, sure, but never like this. Never out in public, surrounded by strangers, with your friends standing just outside the fitting room, waiting like nothing's wrong. Except everything //is// wrong. You hadn't told them. You'd kept it secret. You thought you could manage it on your own, maybe figure it out, maybe undo it. But now? There's no hiding this. Not anymore. You swallow hard. Luke might not notice. He's always been... very oblivious. But Samantha? She misses //nothing//. If you walk out there and try and play it off, she'll take one look at your face and call your bluff before you even get a full sentence out. You don't have a choice. You take one last look in the mirror, drag your hand through your hair, and push open the door. Samantha is the first to react. She tilts her head, eyes narrowing. Her phone lowers by just a few inches, thumb hovering mid-scroll. @@.samantha;"Woah, $name,"@@ she says slowly. @@.samantha;"What the hell happened?"@@ Luke loops up from the display of weird shirts he's been thumbing through and does a double take. @@.luke;"Dude,"@@ he says, blinking. @@.luke;"Uhh, did you always look like that?"@@ You glance around at the store. No one else seems to be paying attention. Still, your voice drops to a whisper. @@.player;"Okay. I need to tell you guys something."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. Luke shrugs. You steer them toward a quiet corner near the back, behind a row of fake plants and racks of scarves. It's not much, sure, but it's private enough. You exhale before telling them everything. You explain about Madame Serena. The tent at the autumn festival. The dare. The curse. The strange sensation in your chest, the tingling every time it happens, how your reflection keeps shifting a little more each time you're not paying attention. How this time, it was triggered by a pair of skinny jeans. At first, there's silence. Samantha watches you with her eyebrows furrowed, like she's trying to decide whether you're messing with her or having a mental breakdown. Luke just stares blankly. @@.luke;"Wait... so you're cursed? Magically?"@@ Luke asks after a long pause. @@.luke;"Like a wizard's revenge thing?"@@ @@.player;"Kind of,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's more like a witch's punishment, I suppose. And it's been happening every time I do something even vaguely feminine."@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, I //knew// something was up,"@@ Samantha says. Luke looks between the two of you, still processing. @@.luke;"Okay... but how do we know you're not just messing with us?"@@ he asks. @@.luke;"Like, what if this is just puberty's weird sequel where it, like, reverses?"@@ @@.player;"Because //look// at me, Luke,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Does this look like something I could fake?"@@ He studies you for a moment longer. @@.luke;"...Okay, yeah. You're definitely cursed. No offense."@@ Samantha folds her arms. @@.samantha;"This is insane, but it does explain a lot."@@ You nod again, feeling your shoulders finally start to lower. @@.player;"I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier. I just didn't know how to bring it up."@@ There's another pause. Then Luke claps you on the shoulder, more gently than usual. @@.luke;"Well... that sucks. But you told us, so now we know. And we're not gonna ditch you or anything. Right, Samantha?"@@ Samantha rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"Obviously. You think I'd let you go through a whole gender-swapping horror arc alone? Please. I'm invested now."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Wait, so you guys are okay with this?"@@ Luke shrugs. @@.luke;"You're still $name, cursed or not."@@ @@.samantha;"Just keep us in the loop next time, alright?"@@ Samantha requests. @@.samantha;"If your nose starts glowing or your voice changes or something, I wanna be warned in advance."@@ @@.player;"Noted,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"And hey, if you ever need help dealing with the witch, I've seen every season of //Supernatural//,"@@ Luke says proudly. @@.luke;"I'm basically an expert."@@ Samantha groans. @@.samantha;"Dude, oh my God."@@ You smile. Somehow, against all odds, you feel lighter. <</if>>\ <<button "Rate Samantha's outfits" "Day 4 - 15">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> @@.samantha;"Where should we go next?"@@ Samantha asks. <<if ($temp is false) and ($d4stores < 3)>>\ <<button "Go to Tech Gadgetz" "Mall - Tech Store">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if ($temp2 is false) and ($d4stores < 3)>>\ <<button "Go to Games for Life" "Mall - Game Store">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if ($temp3 is false) and ($d4stores < 3)>>\ <<button "Go to Page Turners" "Mall - Book Store">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if ($temp4 is false) and ($d4stores < 3)>>\ <<button "Go to Mystic Emporium" "Mall - Mystical Store">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if ($temp5 is false) and ($d4stores < 3)>>\ <<button "Go to Paws & Whiskers" "Mall - Pet Store">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if ($temp6 is false) and ($d4stores < 3)>>\ <<button "Go to Cuddle Creations" "Mall - Plushie Store">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $d4stores is 3>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - 11">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/restroom.png"> You lean over the cold porcelain sink, breathing hard. The cool water splashes up against your face, dripping down your chin and onto your shirt as you try to ground yourself. The rush of adrenaline hasn't faded. Your ears still sting faintly from the piercing. Though now, that sensation is completely drowned out by the aftershocks of the curse. Something deeper. That familiar hum that coils under your skin like an afterthought of magic. You grip the edges of the sink, knuckles white. @@.player;"Fuck,"@@ you mutter under your breath, eyes squeezed shut. @@.player;"That actually triggered it."@@ You glance up at the mirror, your breath fogging a small patch of glass. Your own reflection stares back, and you study every detail like a detective combing for clues. The earrings look fine, surprisingly fine, but it's the rest of your face that has you squinting. Pierced ears are supposed to be harmless. Common. Normal, even for guys now. And yet... of course //you// couldn't have something go normally. You should've expected this. You do the math in your head, trying to count how many times this has happened now. Your brain finds the number: $femineChanges. It's getting harder to keep track. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door opening. A sudden cough echoes as someone steps into the restroom. <<if $feminineLooks > 19>>\ You freeze. The guy entering the room jolts mid-step when his eyes land on you. @@.boy;"Oh shit,"@@ he blurts, visibly startled. He recoils for half a second, backing up through the doorway and glancing up at the sign above the entrance. @@.boy;"Never mind, my bad,"@@ he says, chuckling. @@.boy;"Thought this was the girls' room for a sec."@@ You blink. He walks past you after that, like nothing happened, but the comment hangs in the air longer than it should. It looks like you've officially crossed some invisible line. You're still you, $name Yoon, but apparently you're now feminine enough to confuse strangers at a glance. You're not quite androgynous, but you are suspiciously soft. <<else>>\ The guy who entered offers a nod as he walks in. It's just a casual lift of the chin. A universal guy-to-guy greeting. @@.boy;"What's up, man?"@@ he mumbles, brushing past you on his way to the stalls. You nod back instinctively. @@.player;"Hey."@@ As he disappears into one of the stalls, you stare at your reflection again, wondering how close you're getting to the threshold. For now, you're still clearly a guy. Still anchored to the identity you've always known. But that anchor's feeling looser lately. <</if>>\ You wipe your face dry with a paper towel and toss it in the bin. You've got to pull yourself together, Luke and Samantha are probably just outside. You take a breath then head for the door. <<if $friendsKnow is true>>\ As you step out of the restroom, still feeling the dull buzz of magic beneath your skin. Samantha is the first to spot you, and her expression tightens immediately. She knows. Of course she knows. @@.samantha;"$name, are you alright?"@@ she asks, voice low but laced with genuine concern. Her brows are furrowed, and her head tilts as if trying to get a better read on your face. You manage a nod, though it's not exactly convincing. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm okay,"@@ you say, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"I'm still getting used to these changes. Every time something happens, it throws me off all over again."@@ @@.luke;"Was it the earrings?"@@ Luke says, stepping in beside you. @@.luke;"Did the curse kick in because of those."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, exhaling. You glance toward the bustling mall corridor behind them, hoping the world hasn't noticed whatever subtle changes the mirror just revealed to you. @@.player;"Let's just keep going,"@@ you add after a moment. @@.player;"We can talk about it more later. Somewhere less public."@@ Samantha doesn't push, but she doesn't let it go, either. @@.samantha;"I'll respect that,"@@ she says with a nod, pushing her beanie up. @@.samantha;"But we are going to talk about it at some point, okay? No more dodging. We're in this together."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $friendsKnow to true>>\ As you return from the restroom, still shaken but trying to look normal, Luke eyes you wraily. @@.luke;"Yo, you good? Did you, like... throw up or something?"@@ he asks, wrinkling his nose. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, forcing a shiver to make the lie more convincing. @@.player;"It was gross. I think our lunch earlier hit me weird or something."@@ Samantha gives you a long, skeptical look. She doesn't buy it. Not even for a second. @@.samantha;"Don't fucking lie to us, $name,"@@ she says, arms crossing tightly over her chest. @@.samantha;"You've been acting off all day, and you look different. There's something going on. You're not just sick."@@ You falter and your act crumbles under the weight of her stare. You sigh, slow and heavy, shoulders sagging. @@.player;"Okay. Fine."@@ You glance between your two cloest friends and decide to stop hiding then and there. If you're going to survive this curse, you'll need people in your corner. You need them. So you start from the beginning. Madame Serena. The fortune booth. The curse. The mirror. The tingling. The changes. You spill everything. To their credit, they don't interrupt you. They just listen. And when you finally finish, your throat dry and your nerves fried, you expect them to laugh or to look at you like you're crazy. But they don't. They just nod. @@.samantha;"I believe you,"@@ Samantha says softly. Luke nods too. He doesn't even make a dumb comment, maybe for the first time in his life. A strange weight lifts from your chest. @@.player;"Let's just keep going,"@@ you say eventually, trying to push past the moment. @@.player;"We'll talk more about it later. When it's not in the middle of a crowded mall."@@ Samantha gives you a slow nod. @@.samantha;"Okay. I'll respect that. but this isn't something we're sweeping under the rug, alright?"@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - 22">><</button>>

<<if $d4book is 0>>\ <<set $money -= 10>>\ <<set $study to Math.clamp($study + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You turn the academic book over in your hands, thumbing along the clean spine. Something about it keeps pulling you in. The back cover synopsis promises a deep dive into perception, cognition, and the way identity can shift depend on how we're seen—or //not// seen—by others. It sounds intense, maybe even a little above your level, but you've been craving something like this lately. Something that might help you make sense of the weird blur your life's become. @@.player;"This one,"@@ you say, lifting the book up. @@.player;"It feels like something I should try reading."@@ Luke peers over your shoulder and squints at the back cover. @@.luke;"Let me see. 'And exploration of the liminal self in transitional adolescent through the lens of postmodern psycholinguistics...'"@@ He trails off, his eyebrows slowly knitting together. @@.luke;"Okay, no offense, but what the hell does any of that mean?"@@ You suppress a laugh. @@.player;"It means it's not for you."@@ Luke tilts his head, eyes still locked on the tiny print. @@.luke;"Dude, my brain just gave up. Like, I felt it. It waved the white flag."@@ @@.samantha;"Poor baby,"@@ Samantha says dryly. @@.samantha;"Did the mean book use too many syllables?"@@ Luke holds up a finger in protest. @@.luke;"I read all of //Percy Jackson// twice, thank you."@@ @@.samantha;"Didn't you read the graphic novel version?"@@ Samantha snarks. He doesn't deny it. You shake your head, still grinning, and head toward the register. The cashier barely glances up as you place the book down, and you're already tapping your phone to the reader. A soft //beep//, a digital receipt, and the book is yours. You tuck it under your arm as you turn back to your friend. Luke is still rubbing his temples like he's just walked out of a midterm. @@.luke;"That book gave me psychic damage,"@@ he mutters. @@.player;"You didn't even read it,"@@ you point out. @@.luke;"I //tried//,"@@ he says, solemnly. @@.luke;"And it tried back."@@ Samantha finally joins you both, arms folded and eyebrow arched. @@.samantha;"So, what's the plan? Gonna read it over coffee while wearing a turtleneck and silently judging the rest of us?"@@ @@.player;"I don't own a turtleneck,"@@ you say, stepping out of the store. @@.player;"But now I kind of want one."@@ Luke makes a thoughtful noise. @@.luke;"I think you'd look smart in a turtleneck."@@ You don't answer. You're too busy flipping through the first few pages as you walk, already getting pulled in by the dense text and quiet promise of meaning just under the surface. You're not sure if you'll understand all of it. But for some reason, it feels like the right kind of challenge. <<elseif $d4book is 1>>\ <<set $money -= 10>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You pick up the athletic book, the one with the bold cover. The back cover mentions themes like perseverance, team drama, self-discovery, and finding confidence through movement. You're not sure why it grabs you the way it does... but it does. @@.player;"This one,"@@ you say, holding it up. Luke leans over your shoulder, eyes brightening immediately. @@.luke;"Ooh, that looks fun! You gotta lend it to me after you're done."@@ You glance sideways at him, one eyebrow slowly lifting. @@.player;"You mean like last time?"@@ @@.luke;"What last time?"@@ Luke asks, tilting his head. @@.player;"The last time I lent you a book, your dog ate it."@@ @@.luke;"Oh //that// last time,"@@ Luke says, sheepish but grinning. @@.luke;"Come on, that was months ago! He thought it was a chew toy. He has better taste now. In like... both snacks and literature."@@ @@.player;"Didn't he also chew up your controller last week?"@@ you point out. Luke opens his mouth, pauses, then shrugs. @@.luke;"That was a //different// controller. And he was going through stuff."@@ Samantha, still scrolling on her phone like she's far too cool to be involved in the conversation, snorts without looking up. @@.samantha;"What could your dog //possibly// be going through, Luke? Did he get dumped by his girlfriend? Is he behind on his taxes? Is //Need of Arms: Bark Ops// too emotionally intense now?"@@ @@.luke;"Hey, you don't know his life,"@@ Luke huffs. You shake your head, laughing under your breath, and walk over to the register. You tap your phone against the reader, the soft //ding// confirming the purchase. You get a digital receipt and the book is yours. You hold it for a moment before tucking it under your arm. As you step out of the store, Luke jogs to catch up beside you, eyes on the book. @@.luke;"So... after you're done, right? Like two weeks? One?"@@ @@.player;"We'll see,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You might have to earn my trust back."@@ @@.luke;"I'll prove I'm worthy,"@@ he says, clasping his hands together like he's pledging a solemn vow. @@.luke;"My dog will not get within ten feet of this book. I will set up barriers."@@ @@.samantha;"Can one of those barriers be common sense?"@@ Samantha quips, walking ahead with a sigh. You trail behind them, book in hand and grin on your face, wondering what story you've just stepped into. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Hmm, maybe later,"@@ you say, placing the books you just picked up back on the shelf. @@.samantha;"Are you not going to buy it, $name?"@@ Samantha asks, leaning over. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm too broke,"@@ you say, a chuckle escaping your lips. You check your digital wallet to see that you have $money dollars for the rest of your shopping trip. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - Mall Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp3 to true>>\ <<set $d4stores += 1>>\ The moment you suggest the bookstore, Luke looks at you like you just invited him to a tax seminar. @@.luke;"For real?"@@ he says, baffled, as the three of you slow to a stop outside the shop's wide wooden entrance. @@.luke;"You chose //this//? Out of the entire mall?"@@ Samantha snorts, throwing a glance at the sign above the doorway like it personally offended her. @@.samantha;"Wow. We could've gone to the arcade, the smoothie place, literally anywhere with flashing lights or food. But no. $name wanted... books."@@ @@.player;"Hey, it's cozy,"@@ you insist. @@.player;"It smells nice and it's quiet."@@ Luke sniffs the air. @@.luke;"It just smells like paper."@@ @@.player;"You mean knowledge,"@@ you correct, walking inside. The scent hits you first—aged pages, faint vanilla, and that comforting musty warmth unique to old shelves. The air is cooler in here and a thick carpet muffles your footsteps. A soft piano instrumental plays overhead, competing only with the occasional hum of someone flipping through a paperback. Samantha follows with a dramatic sigh, already pulling out her phone like she's shielding herself from the threat of literacy. @@.samantha;"Ten minutes,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"I'm putting a timer on."@@ Luke stays by the doorway a second longer, peering in like he's afraid the books might leap at him. @@.player;"Come on,"@@ you nudge him. @@.player;"You might find something you like."@@ @@.luke;"I like pictures,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"And explosions. This place is sorely lacking in both."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Okay, so you've //never// read a book you enjoyed?"@@ Luke squints, thinking real hard. @@.luke;"I read the //Percy Jackson// series when I was twelve,"@@ he finally says. @@.luke;"Those were pretty cool. The sword fighting, the Greek gods, the crazy superpowers—felt relatable."@@ @@.samantha;"Wow."@@ Samantha perks up. @@.samantha;"A whole middle grade series. How brave. What's next? //Captain Underpants//?"@@ Luke frowns. @@.luke;"Hey, those books had surprisingly deep lore."@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, you are //literally// proving my point."@@ You wander back toward the Young Adult section, where a display of newly-arrived paperbacks catches your eye. Most of them are the usual—fantasy sagas and angsty romance—but two books stand out from the rest, neatly propped up beside each other like they're daring you to choose. The first one has a clean, minimalistic cover—white background, sharp serif title, and a stack of old books overlaid with a diagram of a double helix. It looks like the kind of book that would teach you something. The second one is the opposite: bold colors, a stylized silhouette mid-jump, muscles outlined in dramatic motion. It's about someone chasing glory—training, improving, striving. You're not even sure if it's fiction or a memoir, but its energy is magnetic. Luke peers over your shoulder. @@.luke;"Ooh, are you gonna get the sciencey one? Or the one with the guy doing backflips?"@@ @@.samantha;"Don't let Luke peer pressure you into getting the one with abs on the cover,"@@ Samantha says from across the aisle. Luke raises his hands. @@.luke;"Hey, I'm just saying it looks cool. Like, I'd read that one."@@ @@.samantha;"You haven't finished a book since seventh grade,"@@ Samantha fires back. You roll your eyes with a laugh and glance down at the two books again, feeling a flicker of curiosity. Or... maybe you'll pass for now. It //is// ten dollars after all. <<button "Buy the book with the academic cover" "Mall - Book Store 1">>\<<set $d4book to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Buy the book with the athletic cover" "Mall - Book Store 1">>\<<set $d4book to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Skip buying a book for today" "Mall - Book Store 1">>\<<set $d4book to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $gamepref is 0>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You scroll past the puzzle game and land on something a little more your speed. //CosmoClash: Annihilation Protocol.// The logo flashes on screen: a stylized armored soldier with a glowing visor, mid-air with twin plasma rifles in hand. The background music is all war drums and electric guitar. Gritty. Dramatic. Over-the-top. You smirk. @@.player;"This look familiar?"@@ Luke lights up like a Christmas tree. @@.luke;"No freaking way—they have CosmoClash here? Dude, I used to //live// on this game."@@ Used to. You're pretty sure "used to" means "played six hours last night." He's already reaching for the controller like a man reunited with his long-lost lover. Samantha rolls her eyes behind you both. @@.samantha;"Yay. Digital violence and male bonding. I'll be over here pretending I'm not being third-wheeled by two human Doritos."@@ Luke immediately selects his favorite loadout—plasma carbine, jetpack, and reflective armor. You take your pick, less familiar but not totally new either. @@.player;"Ready to get smoked?"@@ you ask, giving him a side glance. @@.luke;"Not a chance,"@@ he says, cracking his knuckles like this is a tournament match. The game drops you both into a mirrored arena—a floating asteroid base with gleaming blue lights and lots of verticality. The timer starts. Five minutes. First to fifteen kills. You barely get your bearings before Luke is on you like a heat-seeking missile. He zip-jets above you, rains down a flurry of laser bolts, then lands with a melee to your helmet. Game announcer: @@.boy;''"First Blood."''@@ You respawn and get a few good hits in the next round, even managing to corner him in a corridor. But he drives backward off a ledge, sticks the wall, and swings around the corner with his secondary. Your screen goes red again. @@.luke;"Two to zero,"@@ he mutters, laser-focused. @@.player;"Okay, chill,"@@ you say, gripping your controller tighter. It doesn't help. Every time you think you have a plan, Luke's already three steps ahead—jetting across rooftops, tossing plasma grenades with casual precision, or sniping you mid-sprint. Samantha peeks over the edge of the demo screen. @@.samantha;"Is $name okay? Should I call for an ambulance?"@@ You grit your teeth. @@.player;"It's fine. I've got this."@@ You do ''not'' got this. The score climbs: 8-2, 11-3, 13-4... At one point, Luke jumps from a launchpad, sticks you with a grenade midair, lands behind a crate, and types "lol" into the chat. @@.player;"Oh my God, you teabagged me,"@@ you groan, horrified. @@.luke;"That wasn't a teabag,"@@ he says with a smirk. @@.luke;"That was... aggressive crouching."@@ @@.samantha;"Semantics,"@@ Samantha snorts. Finally, match point. You bunker behind a shield barrier, determined not go down quietly. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Come at me."@@ Luke does. He jetpacks through your shield like it's made of paper, double-pumps a plasma blast to your chest, and finishes with a melee that knocks your avatar across the screen in slow motion. @@.boy;''"Victory."''@@ The announcer says it like it's holy. Luke drops his controller and lets out a satisfied sigh, stretching like he just finished a long day of work. @@.luke;"God, I love this game."@@ You slump back into your beanbag, blinking at the screen. @@.player;"Dude. Do you even sleep?"@@ @@.luke;"Sleep is for people who lose,"@@ he says with a wide grin. Samantha claps once. @@.samantha;"Well. That was a murder. I haven't seen someone get wrecked that hard since Jessica told off that guy who called her 'mid.'"@@ You can't help but laugh. @@.player;"Alright. You win. You're cracked."@@ Luke leans over and fist-bumps you. @@.luke;"We should duo next time. I swear I can carry."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Sure. Just don't teabag our teammates."@@ @@.luke;"No promises."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You scroll past the flashy shooter option and land on something that looks a little... slower-paced. The title flashes on the screen in neon blue letters: //PortHole: Double Trouble//. A sleek co-op puzzle game. @@.player;"Let's try this one,"@@ you say, clicking confirm. Luke leans over to read the game description. @@.luke;"Two-player brain bender... test chambers... logic puzzles... okay, sure. How hard can it be?"@@ Samantha snorts behind you. @@.samantha;"Famous last words."@@ The screen fades in, showing too robot avatars—one tall and skinny, the other short and round—being dropped into a shiny test chamber by a snarky AI named Orbyx. She has a voice like she's permanently bored with your existence. @@.girl;"Welcome, meatless disappointments. Please attempt to collaborate. For science."@@ @@.luke;"Alright,"@@ Luke says, blinking. @@.luke;"Rude."@@ The first test is simple enough—just a pair of buttons that need to be pressed at the same time to open a door. You both run to your respective switches, count down from three, and step on them. @@.luke;"See?"@@ Luke exclaims, looking pleased. @@.luke;"Easy. We're basically geniuses."@@ The next room involves portals. Very quickly, it becomes clear that Luke has no idea how to use his portal gun. You try to calmly explain the mechanics—how the blue portal connects to the orange one, and how momentum carries through them—but Luke somehow manages to place his two portals in the same wall and then run in a circle for a full thirty seconds. @@.luke;"Why does mine keep facing the wrong way?"@@ he says, spinning in place and firing portals at his own feet. @@.player;"Because you keep jumping while shooting,"@@ you point out, trying not to laugh. @@.player;"Just aim. And stop trying to trickshot like this is //Need of Arms//."@@ @@.luke;"I'm not trickshotting,"@@ Luke says defensively. @@.luke;"I'm... innovating."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, you innovated a way to trap yourself in a corner,"@@ Samantha deadpans from behind you. In the next test chamber, you're supposed to use momentum to fling yourself across a gap using angled platforms and portals. You do your part flawlessly, landing neatly on the other side and waiting for Luke to follow. Instead, Luke fires a portal directly beneath himself... and then forgets to place the second one on the platform. He drops like a rock. The next ten minutes are a chaotic blur of poorly timed launches, mistimed switches, and one unforgettable moment where Luke accidentally locks you in a laser trap and doesn't notice for a full minute. @@.luke;"Why is your screen all red?"@@ he asks as your character frantically bangs on the glass. @@.player;"Because I'm on fire, Luke!"@@ @@.luke;"Wait, really? Oh, that's... wow. My bad."@@ Samantha is doubled over by this point, watching from behind with a hand over her mouth. @@.samantha;"This is the best entertainment I've had all week."@@ Eventually, after far too many deaths and sarcastic comments from Orbyx—@@.girl;"If I had hands, I would be facepalming"@@—you both manage to limp your way through the final chamber. You're not sure whether to feel proud or just relieved. Luke drops the controller onto his lap and leans back with a satisfied sigh. @@.luke;"That was awesome."@@ @@.player;"Dude, you almost killed me eight times,"@@ you say, rubbing your temples. @@.luke;"Yeah, but we made it, didn't we?"@@ He grins, wide and proud. You glance at the screen where your robot characters give each other an awkward high five. @@.player;"Barely,"@@ you mutter. Samantha just shakes her head, clearly amused. @@.samantha;"Well. I know who //not// to call if I ever get trapped in a science lab."@@ @@.luke;"I'd rescue you,"@@ Luke says cheerfully. @@.luke;"But I'd probably trip over a button and launch you into space."@@ @@.samantha;"How touching,"@@ she replies. Still, despite the chaos, there's a smile on your face as you hand the controller back to the counter. Luke might not be puzzle-inclined, but hanging out with him like this? Kind of worth it. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - Mall Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp2 to true>>\ <<set $d4stores += 1>>\ The second you step into the game store, Luke visibly perks up like a kid spotting his favorite toy aisle. @@.luke;"Okay,"@@ he says with a grin, scanning the shelves, @@.luke;"now this? This is what I'm talking about."@@ The store is brightly lit, clean displays and colorful posters lining the walls. Consoles hum quietly beneath glass cases, and a rotating display in the center flickers with trailers for upcoming releases. Techno music pulses from overhead speakers, fast and loud, while a few kids cluster around demo kiosks, arguing over a racing game. Luke walks ahead without waiting, making a beeline for a pair of oversized beanbags near the demo station. @@.luke;"They've got the new shooter //and// the co-op puzzle one,"@@ he calls over his shoulder. @@.luke;"Solid picks."@@ You follow him and drop into the purple beanbag next to him as he settles into the green one, controller already in hand. @@.luke;"I could live here,"@@ he says. You can't tell if he's joking or not. @@.luke;"Like, just give me a mini fridge and a blanket. Done deal."@@ Samantha strolls up behind you, arms crossed. @@.samantha;"You'd forget to eat, sleep, and answer texts."@@ @@.luke;"Not true,"@@ Luke says, smirking. @@.luke;"You see, I'd text back //between// matches. Very responsible."@@ She rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"No offense, but I'm putting my money on $name."@@ @@.luke;"Offense taken,"@@ Luke replies, wounded. @@.luke;"But also fair."@@ He nudges you with his elbow, nodding toward the screen. @@.luke;"Alright, your pick. We've got the shooter if you want to go head-to-head, or the puzzle game if you're feeling cooperative. Fair warning, I'm better at reflexes than logic. But I can give it a shot."@@ You scroll through the options, glancing at the covers on the wall and the kids still fighting over the leaderboard near the corner. Luke stretches out beside you, casual but clearly excited. @@.luke;"Honestly, either's good,"@@ he adds. @@.luke;"If we do the shooter, prepare to lose. If we do puzzles, I'll pretend I know what I'm doing."@@ @@.samantha;"Pretend harder,"@@ Samantha says under her breath. @@.luke;"You have no faith in me, Samantha,"@@ Luke says, shaking his head. @@.luke;"None at all."@@ You shake your head, deciding on a game as the controller clicks under your thumb. One way or another, this is going to be fun. <<button "Choose the shooter game" "Mall - Game Store 1">>\<<set $gamepref to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Choose the puzzle game" "Mall - Game Store 1">>\<<set $gamepref to 1>>\<</button>>

<<if $trinket is true>>\ <<set $money -= 10>>\ <<grantAchievement "MagicTrinket">>\ You stare at the crystal for a beat too long, Isolde still looming over the counter like a spider waiting for a fly. It's ridiculous. It's obviously a scam. But then again... @@.player;"Why the hell not,"@@ you mutter, more to yourself than anyone else, and pull out your phone. Isolde lights up like you just announced she'd won the lottery. @@.girl;"An excellent choice!"@@ she croons, sweeping the crystal off the counter and cradling it in both hands. @@.girl;"This stone will attune your aura to the pathways of the mystic arts."@@ @@.samantha;"It's a rock,"@@ Samantha deadpans. @@.samantha;"A rock that probably came from the clearance bin at a craft store."@@ Isolde ignores her completely, already pulling out a suspiciously advanced payment setup. @@.girl;"We take cash, debit, credit, e-transfer, Speedmo, PayBuddy, StashApp, Fruit Pay, Giggle Pay, Zippy..."@@ she says, rattling off options like she's a bank. @@.girl;"Oh, and if you sign up for my loyalty program, your next aura-cleansing session will be half off."@@ Luke's eyes go wide. @@.luke;"Dude. That's customer service. She takes everything."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, because she's a con artist,"@@ Samantha mutters. But you've already tapped your phone against the reader with a resigned sigh. The device beeps cheerily, and Isolde claps her hands like a proud mother watching her child graduate. @@.girl;"The universe thanks you,"@@ she says, placing the crystal into a velvet pouch that looks like it costs five cents. @@.girl;"Carry it close to your heart, and it will guide you."@@ Samantha folds her arms and gives you a dangerous look. @@.samantha;"You are //so// dumb. I hope you enjoy your ten-dollar gravel."@@ Luke, on the other hand, is elated. @@.luke;"Brooo, you're gonna be so magical,"@@ he says, clapping you on the shoulder. @@.luke;"Like, I bet that thing glows under a full moon or shoots lasers or something."@@ As you walk out, Samantha shakes her head like she can't believe she's friends with you. Luke, meanwhile, is already brainstorming names for your "new magic powers." @@.luke;"Lightning $name,"@@ he says thoughtfully. @@.luke;"No, wait—$name the Enchanted."@@ @@.samantha;"$name the Idiot,"@@ Samantha cuts in. You sigh, wondering which one of them is actually right. <<else>>\ You stare at the crystal for a moment longer before setting it back on the counter. @@.player;"Yeah, I think I'm gonna pass,"@@ you say, trying to sound polite. Isolde blinks once, then lets out a long sigh. @@.girl;"Very well,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"But know that opportunities like this rarely come twice. The universe does not beg."@@ @@.luke;"Man, why'd you do that?"@@ Luke asks. @@.luke;"You could've been magic, $name. Like, who knows? That crystal could've given you, like, fire powers or something."@@ Samantha rolls her eyes so hard you're surprised they don't get stuck. @@.samantha;"Yeah, or it could've given him a ten-dollar hole in his wallet. I'm actually relieved. Congrats, $name, you're not completely stupid."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, I think?"@@ you reply, still a little unsure whether that was a compliment or not. Isolde leans over the counter as if she's trying to reel you back in. @@.girl;"When your path grows dark, you'll wish you hadn't walked away from this choice,"@@ she says ominously. Samantha doesn't even wait for her to finish. @@.samantha;"When my path grows dark, I'll buy a flashlight,"@@ she mutters, already heading toward the door. You follow Samantha out, with Luke trailing behind. He's still lamenting your "missed opportunity." @@.luke;"Seriously, you could've been, like, the chosen one or something,"@@ he says, shaking his head. @@.player;"Or I could've been out ten bucks,"@@ you reply, pushing open the door and letting the heavy incense fog stay behind where it belongs. @@.luke;"Lame,"@@ Luke says, but he's grinning anyway. Samantha claps you on the back. @@.samantha;"Welcome back to reality, champ."@@ You inhale as the fresh mall air hits you. Whatever //that// was, at least you got out without being the proud owner of a supposedly "blessed" rock. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - Mall Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp4 to true>>\ <<set $d4stores += 1>>\ The bell above the door gives a sad little //ding// as you step into Mystic Emporium, the kind of store that thinks turning the lights down low will make the dust look "mystical." It smells like incense and every surface is littered with stuff: dusty tarot decks, "ancient" tomes with suspiciously shiny barcodes, crystals that are definitely just broken chunks of amethyst, and dreamcatchers that look homemade (not in the good way). Luke's eyes go wide, practically sparkling. @@.luke;"Yo. This place is amazing."@@ He picks up a quartz skull and immediately drops it when he sees the $80 price tag. @@.samantha;"Amazing?"@@ Samantha coughs dramatically, waving a hand in front of her face. @@.samantha;"Dude, it smells like an old yoga mat in here. $name, why did you bring us to a Spirit Halloween side hustle?"@@ <<if $d2tell is true>>\ You shrug, pretending to look interested in a "spell jar" that's literally just a baby food jar full of glitter. @@.player;"I thought... maybe there'd be some information about the curse. You know, worth a shot."@@ <<else>>\ You shrug, pretending to look interested in a "spell jar" that's literally just a baby food jar full of glitter. @@.player;"It just seemed interesting. You know, worth a visit."@@ <</if>>\ @@.samantha;"Well, what //I// think is that you've brought us to get scammed by some crazy lady,"@@ Samantha says. Before you can reply, a bead curtain rustles and a figure appears with the dramatic timing of someone who's been waiting for this exact moment for hours. She's tall, draped in about seven layers of black lace, with long silver hair (you're pretty sure it's a wig) that catches the dim light. @@.girl;"Greetings,"@@ she intones, her voice unnaturally low. @@.girl;"I am Isolde, keeper of this sanctuary of the arcane."@@ Luke actually claps. @@.luke;"That's so cool."@@ Samantha squints. @@.samantha;"You're kidding me."@@ Isolde glides over to a cluttered shelf, reaching out like she's drawing Excalibur from the stone. She plucks a shiny crystal from the shelf. @@.girl;"This,"@@ she breathes, @@.girl;"is exactly what you need."@@ You take it, rolling it in your hand. It's... fine. Cold. A rock. @@.player;"What does it do?"@@ She places her hand dramatically over yours, eyes narrowing. @@.girl;"That cannot be spoken,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"You must... trust."@@ Samantha laughs. @@.samantha;"Translation: it does nothing, and she hopes you're gullible."@@ Isolde ignores her completely. @@.girl;"For only ten dollars, this crystal will cleanse your aura, ward off misfortune, and assist with your issues."@@ @@.samantha;"Ten bucks?"@@ Samantha raises her voice. @@.samantha;"You're selling him a rock. A literal rock."@@ Isolde gasps, offended. @@.girl;"This is no ordinary crystal, young lady. It was blessed under the full moon by my grandmother's coven. It hums with energies older than time itself."@@ @@.samantha;"Sure,"@@ Samantha says, voice full of skepticism. @@.samantha;"And I'm the fucking president."@@ Luke, on the other hand, is encouraging you. @@.luke;"Only ten for a magic crystal? That's a steal. You should totally get it."@@ Samantha stares at him. @@.samantha;"Luke, you'd buy a jar of air for fifty bucks if it was 'enchanted.'"@@ Isolde beams, already turning back to you. @@.girl;"So, young seeker. Will you accept this rare opportunity to rewrite your fate?"@@ <<button "Buy the trinket" "Mall - Mystical Store 1">>\<<set $trinket to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Don't buy the trinket" "Mall - Mystical Store 1">>\<<set $trinket to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $petpref is 0>>\ The moment you say @@.player;"Let's meet Bolt,"@@ it's like you flipped a switch in Luke. @@.luke;"YES!"@@ he practically shouts, punching the air like you just scored the winning point in overtime. @@.luke;"Knew you'd pick the right one, dude. Good instincts."@@ Even Bolt seems to know something exciting just happened. The dog's tail goes into overdrive, thudding against the side of the enclosure like a percussion instrument, tongue lolling, eyes gleaming with uncontainable joy. He's already pawing at the glass by the time the shop assistant comes over with a leash and a soft smile. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ Morgan laughs, unlocking the enclosure. @@.girl;"Just be warned—he //will// jump on you. He doesn't mean to, he's just... very enthusiastic."@@ The second the latch clicks open, Bolt bursts out like a bottle rocket of pure, unfiltered chaos. He almost skids on the polished floor, but recovers. He barrels toward Luke first, and to your surprise, Luke doesn't flinch. He just braces for it like a wide receiver catching a particularly slobbery touchdown. Bolt rears up and plants two paws right on Luke's chest, tail wagging so hard it could probably generate electricity. Luke laughs loudly and ruffles the dog's floppy ears with both hands. @@.luke;"Bro,"@@ he says, looking absolutely thrilled, @@.luke;"we're communicating on a primal level right now."@@ Samantha, standing off to the side with arms crossed, watches the chaos unfold with one raised brow. @@.samantha;"Yeah, I can see it. Dog meets dog."@@ She steps back just in time to avoid getting a faceful of dog tongue, giving Bolt a wary look. @@.samantha;"You guys have fun rolling in dirt together. I'll be over here preserving my dignity."@@ You crouch down as Bolt turns toward you, still buzzing with energy. He doesn't leap this time, but he does nudge your hand with his wet nose, then immediately presses his head into your palm like you've always been friends. @@.player;"Hey, buddy,"@@ you say, scratching behind his ears. His fur is sleek and warm, and the way his tail starts wagging twice as quickly lets you know you've hit the sweet spot. Luke sits cross-legged on the floor now, completely immersed, holding one of the rope toys the store provided. @@.luke;"You see, Bolt's not //just// smart,"@@ he says, throwing the rope a few feet and watching Bolt zoom after it with joyful abandon. @@.luke;"He's got... like a soul. You can //feel// it."@@ @@.samantha;"No shit, Sherlock,"@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"Of course he has a soul. So do cockroaches. It doesn't mean I want them licking my face."@@ Bolt trots back and drops the toy neatly in Luke's lap. Then he turns to Samantha with a big grin, tongue hanging sideways. @@.samantha;"Oh no,"@@ she says, backing up. @@.samantha;"Don't you dare—"@@ Bolt bounds toward her like she's his new best friend, but Samantha sidesteps. @@.samantha;"Look, Bolt. I see you. I respect you. I just... don't want your spit on my jeans, okay."@@ Despite her protests, there's a faint smile on her lips as she watches Luke and Bolt continue their game. For a moment, the three of you settle into a rhythm—Luke tossing the rope, Bolt retrieving it with boundless energy, and you alternating between petting and laughing at the ridiculous expressions he makes. Samantha eventually crouches down a safe distance away and holds out her hand. @@.samantha;"Okay, fine. I'll pet him //once//. One polite head pat."@@ Bolt tilts his head, reads her energy, and to everyone's surprise, calmly walks over and lowers his head into her palm. @@.samantha;"Okay, that was... weirdly respectful,"@@ Samantha admits, stroking his head once, then twice. @@.samantha;"Maybe you're not as drool-powered as I thought."@@ Bolt immediately sneezes on her shoes. She glares. @@.samantha;"I take it back."@@ Luke bursts out laughing again, cheeks flushed with joy. @@.luke;"Best. Store. Ever."@@ You watch the scene unfold—Luke glowing like he's in love, Samantha pretending to be annoyed but not actually pulling away, and Bolt panting in the middle of it all, happy just to be part of your little world. You didn't come here expecting much. Maybe a moment of fun, something to pass the time. But as Bolt flops on the floor and rolls over for a belly rub, you find yourself wondering what it would be like to have a creature like this in your life. Loyal. Open. Joyful in the most uncomplicated way. Maybe that's what Luke sees in him. Maybe that's what you're starting to see too. <<else>>\ The moment you glance toward the tabby perched with regal indifference behind the glass, you feel Samantha's eyes flick to yours in anticipation. @@.samantha;"Oho,"@@ she says, watching your gaze settle. @@.samantha;"Going feline, huh?"@@ You nod slowly, already caught by the way the cat's tail flicks with precise rhythm. @@.player;"I want to meet Misty,"@@ you say, reading the little placard beside the enclosure. @@.player;"She seems... cool."@@ @@.samantha;"Excellent choice,"@@ Samantha replies, smugly satisfied. @@.samantha;"I knew you had taste."@@ Luke looks betrayed. @@.luke;"But the dog, Bolt, he was ''so'' soft."@@ @@.samantha;"You can go pet your dog doppelgänger later,"@@ Samantha says, waving him off. @@.samantha;"Right now we're spending time with the superior pet."@@ Morgan sees you gesturing toward Misty's enclosure. @@.girl;"Ah, Misty,"@@ she says with a warm smile. @@.girl;"You've got good instincts. She's picky about people, but when she likes someone, she //really// likes them."@@ As she gently opens the enclosure, Misty stretches like she's been preparing for this exact moment all day—her back arches high, paws extending. Then, in a single bound, she lands gracefully on the padded floor of the small pet interaction area. @@.girl;"She's free to roam around a bit,"@@ Morgan says. @@.girl;"Feel free to sit, let her come to you."@@ @@.samantha;"Well, well,"@@ Samantha murmurs, scratching lightly behind Misty's ear. @@.samantha;"A creature after my own heart."@@ Luke kneels down on the floor, holding out a hand toward the tabby with a hopeful smile. @@.luke;"Hi, Misty. I come in peace."@@ Misty slowly turns her head toward him and stares. Then, with deliberate grace, she lifts her paw and bats him squarely on the nose—claws retracted, but firm enough to send a message. Samantha bursts into laughter, clutching Misty slightly closer. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, she just smacked you like you were a bug."@@ Luke sits back, hands raised in surrender. @@.luke;"Dude, I didn't even do anything! That was unprovoked violence!"@@ @@.samantha;"Well, Misty here is asserting dominance,"@@ Samantha says, clearly delighted. @@.samantha;"You're in her domain now. Respect the queen."@@ You bite your lip to hold back a grin as Misty, now entirely content, nestles into Samantha's lap and closes her eyes. Her purring begins, low and steady, vibrating through the denim of Samantha's jeans. @@.player;"She really likes you,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"Of course she does,"@@ Samantha replies, smug as ever. @@.samantha;"She sees a fellow woman of taste."@@ Luke tries once more, slowly scooting closer on his knees like a man pleading for forgiveness. @@.luke;"Okay, truce. I'll even give you some of my Skittles. Just... give me a chance."@@ Misty lifts her head just slightly. Her ears flick. Then she lays back down and turns her entire body so her back is to Luke. @@.player;"Oof,"@@ you wince. @@.samantha;"She's literally ghosting you in real time,"@@ Samantha says, nearly wheezing from laughter. Luke slumps back against the wall, arms crossed and sulking. @@.luke;"All I'm saying is that dogs ''never'' treat me like this."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, and dogs also lick their own butts,"@@ Samantha replies. @@.samantha;"Maybe that's why you get along."@@ You can't help but laugh as Misty lets out a long, pleased sigh and burrows a little deeper into Samantha's lap, like she's settling in for the long haul. And honestly? You're kind of impressed. Not many beings can keep up with Samantha, let alone match her energy and attitude. But this cat? Misty might actually be her perfect counterpart. And judging by the smug look on Samantha's face, she's thinking the exact same thing. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Mall - Pet Store 2">><</button>>

<<if $petpref is 0>>\ After what feels like both a minute and a lifetime, Bolt flops onto his side with a huff, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, chest rising and falling like he's just finished a tough workout. His tail still thumps lightly against the floor, even as he rests. It's like he can't help but keep wagging for you. Luke, cross-legged beside him, is also breathless. His hair's sticking to his forehead from all the play, and there's a faint red mark on his arm from where Bolt excitedly pawed him a little too hard. @@.luke;"I think I'm in love,"@@ Luke says, not even joking. Samantha wipes her hands off on a tissue she pulled from her pocket. @@.samantha;"With a dog."@@ Luke nods. @@.luke;"Yeah. Duh."@@ You smile, crouching down to give Bolt one last head rub. @@.player;"You've got good taste. He's kind of a perfect little guy."@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, he is ''not'' little,"@@ Samantha says, squinting at the lab sprawled out on the floor like a rug. @@.samantha;"He's a menace with paws. That dog could take on a linebacker."@@ @@.luke;"I like him,"@@ Luke says again, a little quieter this time. Morgan, the pet store employee, walks back over. She's holding a clipboard and smiling at the three of you like she's seen this play out before—teenagers, puppy love, and a very expensive price tag. @@.girl;"Looks like someone made a new best friend,"@@ she says warmly, crouching beside Bolt and giving his side a fond pat. He gives her a lazy lick in return. Luke sits up a little straighter. @@.luke;"Hey, uh—what would it take to, you know, actually take him home."@@ Morgan glances at the clipboard, then looks back up. @@.girl;"Well, Bolt's still pretty young, so he's not too expensive compared to some of the purebred pups... but with his vaccinations, chips, and starter supplies, he'd come out to about $850."@@ There's a pause. Luke freezes, mid-smile. @@.luke;"Eight... hundred?"@@ @@.girl;"Fifty,"@@ Morgan confirms. He looks down at Bolt. Then back up. Then at his wallet, which, if you remember right, currently contains a crumpled ten-dollar bill and a packet of unopened Skittles. @@.luke;"I have... candy,"@@ Luke says, mostly to himself. Bolt gives a soft whine, pawing at Luke's knee like he knows. Luke laughs, but it cracks halfway through. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a quiet breath. @@.luke;"Sorry, bud. I guess it's not in the cards today."@@ Bolt leans against him one more time, head nuzzled into his side, and Luke wraps an arm around him like it's the only thing holding him together. Samantha watches the whole thing without a joke this time, arms crossed but face soft. You clear your throat, suddenly self-conscious. @@.player;"Um, Morgan? Just so you know, we weren't, like, planning on buying anything today. We kind of just came in to look. I hope that's okay."@@ @@.girl;"That's totally fine,"@@ Morgan says, waving you off. @@.girl;"It happens more than you think. Honestly, Bolt probably appreciated the playtime anyway. He gets a little restless during slow hours."@@ Luke sniffs once, wiping at his nose. @@.luke;"Can I—"@@ His voice wobbles. He swallows. @@.luke;"Can I come back to visit him sometimes? If he's still here."@@ Morgan nods with a smile. @@.girl;"Of course. And if you ever want to fill out an interest form, I'll keep your name on it in case anything changes."@@ Luke doesn't answer right away. He just leans down and presses his forehead to Bolt's, closing his eyes. @@.luke;"Bye for now, okay?"@@ he murmurs. Bolt licks his chin. You all watch in silence as Morgan leads Bolt gently back to his enclosure. His tail wags the whole time. None of you speak for a few seconds, leaving a moment of silence in Bolt's honor. Then Samantha glances at Luke and breaks it. @@.samantha;"You gonna be okay, golden boy?"@@ she asks, gently teasing but not mocking. Luke sighs dramatically, clasping a hand to his heart. @@.luke;"Once I get home, I'll tell my dog about the one that got away."@@ You shake your head, laughing under your breath. Samantha rolls her eyes but is smiling, and even Luke—dramatic farewell and all—starts grinning again. Still, as the door closes behind you, you can't help but to glance back at the glass just once. Bolt's already lying down again, chewing on a toy. But for a moment, you swear he lifts his head and looks back. Just for a second. Just to say goodbye. <<else>>\ Eventually, Misty stretches out one last time—delicately and lazily, as if to remind everyone that //she// decides when things are over. Then she hops off Samantha's lap in a single fluid motion, tail flicking with a grace that only a cat who knows her worth can manage. Samantha brushes a bit of silver fur off her jeans, still wearing a faint, dreamy smirk. @@.samantha;"If I were a cat, I'd be Misty,"@@ she says. Luke, still seated on the floor like a rejected suitor, gives her a flat look. @@.luke;"Cold and judgmental?"@@ Samantha tilts her head, pretending to think it over. @@.samantha;"Beautiful, independent, and doesn't take shit from boys."@@ @@.luke;"Same thing,"@@ Luke mutters under his breath, sounding mildly defeated. You give Misty one last look as she circles the room with a sense of purpose, then pad over to the door to the enclosure area as Morgan returns. @@.samantha;"Well,"@@ Samantha says, giving Misty a final scratch behind the ears, @@.samantha;"thanks for choosing me over the boys. You've got good taste."@@ Misty responds by casually licking her paw and ignoring everyone. Luke leans forward one last time, hands clasped like he's about to plead in prayer. @@.luke;"Bye, Misty. I hope you live a long, happy life."@@ Misty doesn't so much as glance at him. She simply saunters back toward her enclosure and hops up onto her perch, her back to all of you. @@.luke;"Ouch,"@@ Luke winces. @@.luke;"It's like she knows."@@ @@.samantha;"She does,"@@ Samantha says immediately, already heading for the store exit. @@.samantha;"Cats //always// know."@@ Morgan steps in to guide Misty gently back into her space. @@.girl;"She seemed to like you all—well, most of you,"@@ she adds with a knowing smile toward Luke, who dramatically clutches his chest. You glance at Morgan, rubbing the back of your neck a little. @@.player;"Hey, um... just so you know, we were just browsing. We're not actually planning on buying anything today."@@ @@.girl;"That's completely fine,"@@ Morgan says, waving it off before you can finish. @@.girl;"Honestly, the animals like the company. Especially Misty—she's picky, so it's nice when she finds someone she clicks with."@@ @@.samantha;"She clicked with //me//,"@@ Samantha brags. Morgan chuckles. @@.girl;"She did. You have the same energy."@@ Samantha looks far too pleased by that. @@.girl;"Anyway, feel free to come by any time,"@@ Morgan continues, @@.girl;"Whether you're buying or just visiting, they're always happy for the attention."@@ You nod gratefully. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ Luke sighs, trailing after you and Samantha toward the exit. @@.luke;"I still can't believe she hated me. I have a dog! He loves me. I'm good with animals."@@ @@.samantha;"She sensed weakness in you,"@@ Samantha says breezily, pushing open the glass door. @@.samantha;"That, or she didn't like the Skittles in your pocket."@@ Luke stops short. @@.luke;"You think she could smell them?"@@ @@.samantha;"Wouldn't you be mad if someone brought candy to your house and didn't share?"@@ she says without missing a beat. You stifle a laugh as the three of you step back into the mall's bright, polished corridor. You didn't leave with a pet, but something about the experience sticks with you. Something about the way Samantha smiles when Misty sat with her. It was small, but it means something. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - Mall Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp5 to true>>\ <<set $d4stores += 1>>\ As soon as you step through the sliding glass doors, you're hit with a wave of warmth and soft, ambient music—background noise barely audible beneath the faint sounds of barking, the occasional meow, and the hum of filters in fish tanks. The air smells like sawdust, kibble, and something faintly sweet. Samantha immediately gasps like she's seen a celebrity. @@.samantha;"Oh my God!"@@ she blurts, and practically skips ahead, darting past displays of chew toys and scratching posts to press her hands against the window of one of the glass kennels. @@.samantha;"Look at that one. Look at //that// one. Holy shit, he has //eyebrows//. Thank you, $name. I didn't know we needed this, but we did. You're a genius."@@ Luke strolls in after her, hands in his pockets, his eyes sweeping over the store in quiet fascination. @@.luke;"This place is pretty big,"@@ he says, pausing by a stack of aquariums. A school of neon tetras flicker under the glow of a soft blue light. @@.luke;"I didn't know people kept fish this tiny. This one's the size of a fingernail."@@ @@.player;"Pretty sure some of these tanks are illegal,"@@ you murmur, watching a single goldfish loop lazy circles in a glass bowl that looks better suited for a scented candle. You remember reading somewhere that goldfish need much more space than people think—actual tanks, not glorified jars. You file that thought away with a frown. To your left, guinea pigs scurry through plastic tunnels while a sleepy hamster half-buries itself in wood shavings. There's even a small reptile section in the back with a turtle staring dramatically into space, like it's contemplating the meaning of life. A young woman in a store apron notices your group and heads over with a bright, practiced smile. She adjusts her nametag—Morgan, it says—and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. @@.girl;"Hi there! Just browsing, or are you hoping to make a furry friend today?"@@ she asks, addressing all three of you. @@.girl;"We actually have a couple of social pets who love meeting visitors, if you'd like to spend a little time with one."@@ @@.luke;"Wait, seriously?"@@ Luke asks, perking up. @@.luke;"We can just hang out with them?"@@ @@.girl;"Of course!"@@ Morgan beams. @@.girl;"We find it helps them socialize, and it's a nice break for them too. We have two you can meet today—one's this sweet labrador puppy, super energetic, total goofball. And the other is a tabby cat who's been unusually affectionate lately."@@ She gestures first toward a small black lab who's panting so hard his whole body is wiggling. His tongue flops out the side of his mouth like he has absolutely no idea how to manage it. @@.girl;"That's Bolt,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"He'll play with you until your arms fall off."@@ Then she turns slightly and points to a smaller enclosure near the front of the store. A soft gray tabby is perched inside on a carpeted ledge, daintily licking her paw with the kind of calm detachment that makes her look far too elegant for this chaotic world. @@.girl;"And that's Misty. She's been watching you all since you walked in."@@ Samantha's face lights up. @@.samantha;"Dude, I ''love'' her. I am spiritually connected to this cat. She has a judgmental aura and perfect eyeliner."@@ @@.luke;"I want to meet the dog,"@@ Luke says at the same time, crouching down in front of Bolt's enclosure with a slow, curious grin. @@.luke;"He looks like a dork. I love it."@@ @@.samantha;"Alright then, $name,"@@ Samantha says, nudging your arm. @@.samantha;"It's up to you to break the tie. Do we hang out with the adorable mess of a dog, or the mysterious and beautiful feline who almost certainly runs this place from behind the scenes?"@@ Luke looks up from where Bolt is now trying to lick the glass like it wronged him personally. @@.luke;"No pressure, but he's already imagining us playing fetch in a field of dreams."@@ You glance between the two animals—Bolt wagging like his life depends on it, and Misty, who now has one paw elegantly draped over the other, staring at you like she's judging your soul. Either way, it's a choice between chaos and grace. You take a deep breath and decide. <<button "Choose the dog" "Mall - Pet Store 1">>\<<set $petpref to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Choose the cat" "Mall - Pet Store 1">>\<<set $petpref to 1>>\<</button>>

<<set $textbox to true>>\ <<if $plushie is true>>\ <<set $plushieName = "Bamboo">>\ <<set $money -= 10>>\ <<grantAchievement "PandaPlushie">>\ You clutch the panda plushie against your chest a little tighter. His tiny, outstretched arms seem to fit perfectly under your chin, and there's something that's just right about the way he squishes when you hug him. Soft and comforting. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say under your breath. @@.player;"You're coming with me."@@ @@.samantha;"Look at you,"@@ Samantha says, one eyebrow raised, hugging her grotesquely lopsided cat thing. @@.samantha;"Joining the plushie cult. I'm so proud. You've officially regressed to your plushie era."@@ Luke gives you an approving nod. @@.luke;"Solid choice. Still think real dogs are better, but if I didn't have Bruno, I'd maybe consider a fake one."@@ @@.player;"Bruno would eat this thing whole,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"Fair,"@@ Luke replies, not even offended. You walk over to the front counter, plushie in hand, and are greeted by a cheerful employee. @@.girl;"Oh my God,"@@ she gasps. @@.girl;"You're adopting him?! Look at him! He's been waiting for months for someone to pick him up."@@ @@.player;"...Adopting?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.girl;"Yup!"@@ she chrips. @@.girl;"Come, follow me. You're not just buying a plushie, you're giving him a forever home."@@ You follow her to a small pastel kiosk where there's a keyboard and a blinking cursor. It's time to name him. <<textbox "$plushieName" "Bamboo">> <<button "Name the panda" "Mall - Plushie Store 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ You look down at the panda plushie one last time. He's still staring up at you from your hands, those button eyes soft and hopeful. His little arms are slightly crooked now, like he's been waiting for someone to fix it. Like he's been waiting... for you. You hesitate. It's only ten dollars. But you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You glance at your phone. You think about your wallet. Then you end up carefully placing him back on the shelf. The panda leans slightly to the side, his plush body slumping like he already knows. He doesn't fall over, but he's not standing quite right anymore either. A little off-balance and forgotten. Samantha watches silently, arms crossed, putting her cursed cat plushie back on a shelf as well. Luke opens his mouth like he might say something, then shrugs. @@.luke;"Your call, man."@@ The three of you turn to leave. You don't look back, but the panda does. In your mind, you see him: still on that shelf, surrounded by shinier plushies, ones with buttons taht light up and noses that squeak. He doesn't light up or squeak, instead just waiting. Quiet, huggable, yet unchosen. <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - Mall Choice">>\<<set $textbox to false>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $textbox to false>>\ You tap the little keyboard and, with a quiet finality, enter the name. $plushieName. The kiosk dings and a little animated panda rolls across the screen. @@.girl;"$plushieName, huh? That's a good name,"@@ she says warmly. '''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $plushieName!'' A digital badge appears beneath it that says "Champion Napper, Bamboo Devotee, Cuddle Expert." @@.luke;"That sounds like Bruno,"@@ Luke says, glancing at the badge. @@.luke;"He likes chicken, though. I tried to feed him a leaf once. That's kind of like bamboo. He ended up just spitting it out."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, I wonder why your dog didn't want to eat a leaf,"@@ Samantha says snidely. A cream-colored certificate slides out of the printer. ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $plushieName, a cherished member of the SnuggleFriends family, has been officially adopted by $name on this day. Even though he'll often be caught napping and always on the lookout for bamboo treats, this panda promises endless cuddles, quiet company, and the softest hugs. The cashier hands it over with a little bow. @@.girl;"Congratulations,"@@ she says with a warm smile. @@.girl;"You are now, officially, a plush parent. It's a big responsibility, but... you look like you've got what it takes."@@ Samantha squints at the certificate. @@.samantha;"This //does// kind of resemble Bruno. He's literally ''always'' sleeping."@@ @@.luke;"He is not,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"He's always up for at least an hour a day. You just come over when he's tired."@@ You gently place the adoption certificate and the plushie into a small bag. Bamboo sits safetly nestled in a pile of tissue paper, his big eyes blinking at no one in particular, totally at peace with his new place in the world. @@.samantha;"I still think my plushies could take yours in a fight."@@ Luke glances between the two plushies. @@.luke;"$plushieName would probably just lie down and accept his fate."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Exactly. He's mastered the art of peaceful surrender."@@ The cashier, still watching fondly, adds, @@.girl;"Just know he gives //exceptional// emotional support during finals week."@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - Mall Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp6 to true>>\ <<set $d4stores += 1>>\ You walk into Cuddle Creations and immediately get hit with a wall of soft color. Shelves that go from the floor to the ceiling are stuffed with every imaginable creature: frogs, foxes, unicorns, narwhals, dragons, kittens, and living mushrooms. The air somehow smells like optimism and a cute song plays over the speakers. You glance around in awe. @@.player;"This place is actually kind of amazing."@@ Samantha groans dramatically, shielding her eyes like she's stepped into some weird place. @@.samantha;"This is horrifying,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"Everything is smiling and round and weirdly soft."@@ Despite her theatrics, though, she makes a beeline toward the far end of the store and begins methodically picking through a bin. You watch her dig through the plushies like a gremlin looking for cursed treasure. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she breathes suddenly, lifting up a horrendous-looking plush that's meant to be a cat. Its eyes are uneven, one ear is missing, and it has this unexplainable pattern that looks like it was drawn by a toddler with crayons in the dark. @@.samantha;"This is disgusting. I love it."@@ Luke ambles in behind you, giving the place a quick look. @@.luke;"Why would anyone spend money on this stuff?"@@ he says, poking a shelf with a suspiciously floppy llama on it. @@.luke;"You want soft? Just sleep next to a real dog. Way cheaper."@@ @@.samantha;"Luke, you sleep next to Bruno,"@@ Samantha deadpans, holding up the deranged cat plush like it's her new best friend. @@.samantha;"That ancient creature wheezes like a haunted accordion."@@ Luke looks proud. @@.luke;"He's majestic. He's got a heart murmur and two good teeth, yet he's still kickin'. King behavior."@@ @@.player;"Your dog tried to eat my phone case once,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"He thought it smelled weird!"@@ Luke says defensively. @@.luke;"Also that was, like, three years ago. He's old, not evil."@@ You drift along the wall of plushies, lightly brushing your hand across the rows. Something suddenly stops you. A panda. It's stupidly cute. You pick it up and give it a light squeeze. It's perfectly weighted and soft in all the right ways. @@.player;"Look at this one,"@@ you say, holding it up. Samantha glances over and wrinkles her nose. @@.samantha;"Ugh. It's too clean. It's like it hasn't seen pain."@@ @@.player;"I think that's the point,"@@ you say. Luke peers at it. @@.luke;"Pretty nice. Still not better than Bruno."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm sorry, are you comparing a plushie to your fucking centennial dog?"@@ Samantha asks. @@.luke;"You don't get it,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Bruno's a legend. He once chased a squirrel and forgot what he was doing halfway through, but kept going because he didn't want to look dumb."@@ You can't help but laugh, hugging the panda against your chest. Its tag says 10 dollars. Ten bucks for this little guy. You're not sure if you're really about to spend your money on a stuffed animal... but then again, he's kind of perfect. <div class="note">\ <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ While this plushie won't affect any of your stats, it will be mentioned in several scenes in the future and be your fuzzy companion! </div>\ <<button "Buy the panda plushie" "Mall - Plushie Store 1">>\<<set $plushie to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Don't buy the panda plushie" "Mall - Plushie Store 1">>\<<set $plushie to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $shoepref is 0>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You slip your feet into the pair of limited-edition sneakers that seem to be all the rage nowadays. You stand up and present yourself in the mirror, checking to see if you look good. You do look super stylish, and the thought of buying it crosses your mind. <<elseif $shoepref is 1>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You put on the practical athletic shoes, and stand up. You immediately notice a difference, feeling like you're walking on clouds. You do a quick jump and even your vertical seems to have increased by a few inches. The thought of buying the shoe quickly crosses your mind. <<elseif $shoepref is 2>>\ <<set $study to Math.clamp($study + 3, 0, 100)>>\ The casual slip-on loafers take only a second to get on and instantly make you look much more professional and smart. If you had a pair of glasses and a button-up shirt, you'd look like a businessman. You think of purchasing the shoe for a second. <<else>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You put on the fashionable boots and walk up and down the shoe aisle as if you're walking down the runway. You do look really good with them on, and you consider purchasing them. <</if>>\ @@.player;"Hey, how much does this cost?"@@ you ask your friends. @@.luke;"300 dollars,"@@ Luke says after checking the box the shoes were in. @@.player;"Yeah, never mind,"@@ you say, quickly slipping the shoes off. @@.samantha;"Maybe save up for a few months,"@@ Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"Or you can get a job."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, maybe later,"@@ you say, shaking your head. 300 dollars for shoes was an inane price, and you don't think you're going to be purchasing it even if you have the money. <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - Mall Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp1 to true>>\ <<set $d4stores += 1>>\ You walk into the shoe store, known for its diverse selection of shoes. There's a bunch of options, from casual tennis shoes to high-end boots. The walls are lined with colorful displays that any sneakerhead would be happy to see. @@.luke;"Do you need new shoes, $name?"@@ Luke asks, a confused expression on his face. @@.samantha;"Yeah, why are we here?"@@ Samantha asks, similarly perplexed. @@.player;"Well, I thought it wouldn't hurt to try on some shoes,"@@ you shrug, going from section to section to see if there are any shoes that appeal to you. Samantha and Luke help you choose some out and you end up with four shoes that you're interested in. <<button "Try on the limited-edition sneakers" "Mall - Shoe Store 1">>\<<set $shoepref to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Try on the practical athletic shoes" "Mall - Shoe Store 1">>\<<set $shoepref to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Try on the casual slip-on loafers" "Mall - Shoe Store 1">>\<<set $shoepref to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Try on the fashionable boots" "Mall - Shoe Store 1">>\<<set $shoepref to 3>>\<</button>>

<<if $d4help is true>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $money += 50>>\ <<grantAchievement "HelpLady">>\ Something about the confused look on the older woman's face makes you pause. She looks completely lost. The employee in front of her isn't helping either. He just leans on the counter, tablet in hand, delivering his lines like he's said them a thousand times. @@.boy;"Yes, ma'am, a technician reset starts at a hundred dollars. It's the standard service fee. There's really no way around it."@@ You walk forward before you can talk yourself out of it. @@.player;"Excuse me,"@@ you say, stepping up beside the woman. She looks up, startled. @@.player;"Sorry to interrupt,"@@ you add quickly, voice gentler now. @@.player;"But I think you might not need to pay for that."@@ The employee straightens. @@.boy;"I'm sorry—can I help you with something?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, brushing past him slightly to tilt the woman's phone toward you. The screen is dimmed, but you tap the power button. A message appears: //eyeFone is disabled. Try again in 52 minutes.// @@.player;"See?"@@ you tell her, turning the phone back around so she can see for herself. @@.player;"It's just locked from too many password attempts. But after a while, it lets you try again. You don't need a reset, and you ''definitely'' don't need to pay a hundred bucks."@@ The woman blinks down at her phone. @@.girl;"Oh. I... didn't know that. I thought I'd broken it."@@ @@.player;"You didn't,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"It's built to do this. It's just being cautious."@@ The employee frowns, stepping forward. @@.boy;"Look, you're not authorized to give tech advice in this store."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"And you're not authorized to lie to people just to make money."@@ @@.boy;"This isn't your business,"@@ he warns, jaw tightening. @@.player;"She was literally about to pay you a hundred bucks for something she can do by waiting an hour,"@@ you say, a little sharper now. @@.player;"How is that not anyone's business?"@@ The woman's voice cuts in, tentative but firm. @@.girl;"Is he right?"@@ The employee opens his mouth, closes it again, then shrugs. @@.boy;"If you //want// to wait..."@@ She gives him a look like she sees through him now. @@.girl;"I do."@@ And then she turns to you, eyes warmer than they were a minute ago. @@.girl;"Thank you, dear. I really thought I'd messed something up."@@ @@.player;"No problem,"@@ you say, waving it off. @@.player;"I'm just glad I could help."@@ But before you can step away, she's digging through her purse. @@.girl;"No, no, wait a second."@@ She pulls out her wallet, flips it open, and presses a crisp fifty-dollar bill into your hand. @@.girl;"Take this. Please. You saved me a ton of money."@@ @@.player;"I—really, you don't have to—"@@ @@.girl;"I insist,"@@ she says with the kind of resolve only grandmothers carry. @@.girl;"Better it goes to someone honest than into this place's pockets. I'll be leaving a one-star review on that site my daughter's always talking about."@@ You can't help but laugh. @@.player;"Thank you. That's really kind of you."@@ She pats your arm before walking out of the store, her phone still cradled in her hands. The moment she's gone, the employee glares at you. @@.boy;"You need to leave. Now. All of you. Before I call security."@@ You turn and head toward the exit, finding Luke and Samantha already waiting. As soon as you step out into the mall's main walkway, the glass doors gliding shut behind you, Samantha claps you on the back. @@.samantha;"Well,"@@ she says, @@.samantha;"we're officially banned from the Tech Palace of Greed."@@ She raises an eyebrow at the fifty-dollar bill in your hand. @@.samantha;"But at least you're fifty bucks richer. I'd say it evens out."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, tucking it into your pocket. @@.player;"Not a bad trade."@@ Luke's eyes go wide. @@.luke;"Wait, she //paid// you?"@@ @@.player;"Technically, I saved her a hundred."@@ He grins. @@.luke;"Dude, we should visit every scammy tech store in this mall. You could be, like... the Tech Whisperer. We'd be rich."@@ @@.samantha;"No more of this,"@@ Samantha groans. You chuckle, letting the noise of the mall fold back in around you as the three of you wander off toward your next stop. <<else>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance away, jaw tight. The employee's smug, rehearsed tone sticks in your head like a splinter, but you don't move. Something about the situation twists in your gut. It's wrong. Predatory, even. But your feet stay planted. You tell yourself it's not your place. That stepping in might make things worse. That you don't work here, you're just someone poking around the demo stations. And maybe that's true. But still, you feel the weight of it as the older woman slowly pulls out her wallet, her fingers hesitant. @@.luke;"Guess she just paid a hundred bucks to lose all her photos,"@@ Luke mutters under his breath. You don't answer. You pretend to keep browsing, dragging your eyes across glowing displays and sleek screens you can't afford. But the excitement's gone now. Every polished surface feels cold. You pass a shelf of overpriced wireless chargers and can't help but picture that lady walking out later with a plastic bag and a wiped phone—and no idea she could've just waited it out. You leave the store a moment later, the automatic doors sliding shut behind you with a //whoosh//. Even as the noise of the mall picks back up, you find yourself glancing back once. You could've said something. You're not sure what, but something. The thought lingers as you fall in step with your friends. It doesn't weigh heavy exactly, but it stays. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 4 - Mall Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp to true>>\ <<set $d4stores += 1>>\ The cool blast of air conditioning hits you as the three of you step into the sleek, ultra-modern tech store. Everything inside gleams like it's been polished five minutes ago. It's quiet in that kind of way only expensive places are, like even the air knows it costs too much to breathe here. Your eyes drift across a lineup of high-end tablets sitting on a curved display table. A robotic voice murmurs a promotional message: "Experience the future at your fingertips." Samantha makes a beeline for the smartphone section, arms crossed like she's judging the merchandise. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"They've got the new eyeFone. The one with the ridiculous name and the camera bump that looks like it wants to fight you."@@ She leans in closer, squinting at the price tag. @@.samantha;"I want it."@@ Luke trails after her, lifting an eyebrow. @@.luke;"Do you have a thousand dollars?"@@ Samantha glances at him sideways. @@.samantha;"Yeah, right next to my private jet, supermodel wife, and beachfront estate."@@ Luke snorts, then turns to you. @@.luke;"Seriously though, why'd you bring us in here? We're broke."@@ @@.player;"I dunno,"@@ you shrug. @@.player;"It's fun to look. Maybe we'll find something on sale, like a ten-dollar screen wipe or a charger that doesn't rip after two weeks."@@ @@.samantha;"Optimism,"@@ Samantha mutters. @@.samantha;"Dangerous trait in this economy."@@ Still, she's clearly not in a rush to leave. She lingers by the row of demo phones, swiping through home screens like she's trying to convince herself she doesn't care how nice they feel. Meanwhile, Luke is practically drooling over a gaming laptop, pressing random keys on laptops like maybe, just maybe, one of them will unlock a secret discount. Then you hear it—just behind you, near the service counter. @@.girl;"Wait, a hundred dollars? Just to unlock it?"@@ a woman says, her voice thick with disbelief. She's probably in her sixties, dressed in soft beige with a matching purse clutched to her chest. Her phone is in her hand, the screen locked tight. @@.girl;"My grandson just typed the password wrong too many times. That's all that happened."@@ The employee she's talking to is a gangly guy in his early twenties, wearing the store's sleek black polo. He doesn't look up from his tablet as he replies, @@.boy;"That's standard policy, ma'am. The reset process requires a technician's assistance. It's one hundred dollars for the service."@@ Samantha tilts her head, eavesdropping with zero shame. @@.samantha;"Wow,"@@ she says under her breath. @@.samantha;"They're really gonna charge her for something the phone would fix on its own if she just waited like ten minutes."@@ You glance over, watching the older woman frown, clearly unsure whether to believe him. There's a sharp pang in your chest—an awareness of just how confusing tech can be. @@.player;"Think we should say something?"@@ you whisper. @@.samantha;"Nah,"@@ Samantha mutters. @@.samantha;"If I ever end up paying a hundred bucks for a password delay, put me out of my misery."@@ Luke leans over to look at her screen. @@.luke;"You'd never get scammed like that. You'd bite the employee before you let them get away with it."@@ @@.samantha;"Damn right I would,"@@ Samantha says. She doesn't say it out loud, but the way she glances back at the older woman—with a tiny crease between her brows—makes it clear she's a little bothered by it. She always acts too cool to care, but it's moments like this that give her away. You could help her, or you could mind your own business. <<button "Help the lady" "Mall - Tech Store 1">>\<<set $d4help to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Don't help the lady" "Mall - Tech Store 1">>\<<set $d4help to false>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 5>>\ <<set $top to 0>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ The early morning light filters in through your curtains as your alarm blares. For a few moments, you just lie there, letting the alarm scream. It's ''far'' too warm under the covers to leave just yet. It's the first Friday of the school year, and with it comes the back-to-school party. You sit up slowly, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. After a short shower, brushing your teeth, and staring into the mirror for a bit too long, you throw on the usual outfit. Making your way downstairs, the hallway smells faintly of detergent and toast. You follow the scent to the living room. There, curled up on the couch, is Lily. She's got a blanket draped over her lap and her phone is glued to her hand, thumbs tapping away at lighting speed. Her hair is up in a messy ponytail, and she's wearing one of those oversized hoodies she refuses to throw away no matter how many holes it has. Her legs are kicked up on the coffee table. She glances up and blinks. <<if $feminineLooks > 19>>\ Her brow furrows immediately, nose scrunching the way it always does when something doesn't line up. @@.lily;"Wait, why do you look like that, $name?"@@ she asks, genuinely confused. Her eyes narrow as they sweep over you again, this time more deliberately. @@.lily;"You actually look kinda... pretty? Like, weirdly pretty."@@ She makes a face, then squints harder. @@.lily;"Ugh. Too bad your personality ruins it,"@@ she adds, rolling her eyes. @@.lily;"You'd make a really annoying girl."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Thanks? I'm just experimenting a little, I guess. It's not a big deal."@@ Your voice sounds too casual, even to you. @@.lily;"Experimenting? Since when do //you// care about experimenting?"@@ she asks, skeptical. @@.lily;"I thought your entire wardrobe was just, like, five white T-shirts and that one pair of cargo shorts you never wash."@@ @@.player;"They're comfortable,"@@ you protest, instinctively defensive. @@.player;"And for the record, I own //two// pairs."@@ @@.lily;"Okay, well, congrats on discovering style,"@@ she says, snorting. @@.lily;"I was starting to think you were allergic to mirrors."@@ You grab your bag and move toward the door. @@.player;"Why, you want a fashion lesson or something?"@@ @@.lily;"In your dreams,"@@ she shoots back. @@.lily;"If you start stealing my stuff, though, I //will// throw hands."@@ You flash her a smirk, one foot already out the door. @@.player;"Yeah, 'cause I //totally// haven't stolen your stuff before."@@ There's a brief pause before her muffled yell echos from inside the house. @@.lily;"I //knew// you were up to something!"@@ You shake your head, letting out a quiet laugh as you walk down the driveway. Arguing with your little sister like nothing's changed. when everything kind of has. <<else>>\ @@.lily;"Hey, loser,"@@ Lily chrips without missing a beat, barely looking up from her phone. @@.lily;"Did you get grounded for coming home late yesterday?"@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Why would I be grounded?"@@ She smirks, finally meeting your gaze. @@.lily;"Because you were out for, like, ten hours. And don't lie, I ''know'' you didn't text mom."@@ @@.player;"None of your business,"@@ you state, sighing. @@.lily;"Rude!"@@ Lily remarks, offended. @@.lily;"You think just because you're the older sibling you get to be mysterious?"@@ @@.player;"I was hanging out with my friends,"@@ you say, turning the doorknob. @@.player;"Not that you'd know what that's like."@@ Her head jerks up. @@.lily;"Hey! I have plenty of frie—"@@ You shut the door before she can finish, her annoyd voice muffled but still audible. She's probably pouting now, scrolling twice as aggressively just to make a point. It's comforting to know that even with the curse, some things never change. <</if>>\ <<button "Go to school" "Day 5 - 2">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $temp is true>>\ @@.player;"Well, I think you should go with the classic,"@@ you say, folding your arms and giving her a playful raise of your eyebrows. @@.player;"I want to see what you consider a 'classic.'"@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"What's more of a classic than Katy Perry, obviously?"@@ she states. @@.samantha;"I'm doing //Teenage Dream//. It's practically an anthem. It's literally a teenager now, which makes it officially retro."@@ @@.player;"Wait..."@@ you mutter, blinking. @@.player;"The song is a teenager now?@@ @@.samantha;"Yup. It came out in 2010. Do the math, Einstein."@@ You pause, mildly horrified. @@.player;"Huh. That's... unsettling."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly. Now shut up and hype me up like a good friend."@@ @@.player;"You're going to kill it,"@@ you state. @@.samantha;"I know I am."@@ She gives you a wink before stepping forward as the previous singer finishes and hands off the mic. Samantha scrolls through the ancient karaoke UI, finds //Teenage Dream//, and selects it. The opening chords hit and she adjusts the mic like she's done this a hundred times before. You watch as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, body swaying slightly in rhythm before the lyrics flash onto the screen. Then she starts to sing. And to your surprise, she's actually really fucking good. She doesn't hit every note perfectly and her voice cracks once or twice, but she commits fully. She leans into the lines with flair and jumps at the right moments. You clap along with everyone else when she finishes. @@.samantha;"See?"@@ she says breathlessly, handing off the mic. @@.samantha;"Classic. You're welcome."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I think you should go with something trending,"@@ you say, nodding toward her phone. @@.player;"Strike while the popularity is hot, right?"@@ @@.samantha;"Hmm..."@@ Samantha thinks before perking up. @@.samantha;"Yeah, I //could// do something from the summer playlist."@@ She scrolls a bit, her eyes lioghting up when she finds the one she wants. @@.samantha;"Ooh. //Espresso// is everywhere right now. I'm usually more of a Evanescence fan, but pop is nice sometimes. This one //has// been rotting my brain for months."@@ @@.player;"You've played it like five times this week,"@@ you say with a small smile. @@.player;"What happened to being alt? Threadz is going to disown you."@@ @@.samantha;"Hey!"@@ she exclaims. @@.samantha;"All alts are allowed to like a few popular things. It's the law."@@ The current song wraps up, and she strides confidently toward the karaoke setup. She scrolls through the ancient UI until she finds the song, and Samantha's demeanor shifts. Somehow, Samantha Rivera of all people, is able to imitate Sabrina Carptenter's sultry delivery. She doesn't take it too seriously, which makes it even more fun to watch. By tthe end, she's got a small crowd clapping, and even a few random students join in on the chorus. @@.samantha;"That's that me espresso,"@@ she declares as she hands the mic off and struts back toward you. @@.player;"You were born for karaoke,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"I know,"@@ she says simply, like it's just a fact. <</if>>\ The karaoke machine beeps dramatically as the score screen begins to flicker between numbers. It keeps increasing, going from 55 to 72 to 83, before it finally settles on a glowing ''93'' in bold, neon letters. @@.samantha;"Wooh!"@@ she cheers, pumping her first in the air. @@.samantha;"93, baby! I'll be here all night, thank you, thank you."@@ @@.player;"Damn,"@@ you say, genuinely impressed. @@.player;"That's actually really good."@@ @@.samantha;"Actually?"@@ she asks, placing a hand on her hip. @@.samantha;"Excuse you. I always cook."@@ You laugh and hop up your hand for a high five. She meets it with a loud //smack//, the kind that leaves your palm stinging a little. Then her expression shifts, mischievous and plotting. Her eyes narrow like a predator sizing up prey, and you get the sinking feeling that you're next in line. @@.samantha;"You know, $name,"@@ she says sweetly, far too sweetly. @@.samantha;"You should totally go up next."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Me?"@@ She leans in closer, grinning like the devil. @@.samantha;"Yes, you. Come on, it'd be great. I think you'd actually do a really good job."@@ @@.player;"You're just saying that so you can record me making a fool of myself."@@ @@.samantha;"I mean, maybe, but think of the memories! Come on, what's the worst that could happen?"@@ She's practically bouncing now, clearly delighted at the idea of watching you squirm on stage. Around you, the energy is still sky high. It wouldn't be the most awful thing in the world... would it? <<button "Decide to sing" "Day 5 - Karaoke">>\<<set $d5karaoke to true>>\<<trackChoice "D5_karaoke" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide not to sing" "Day 5 - Karaoke">>\<<set $d5karaoke to false>>\<<trackChoice "D5_karaoke" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> You and Samantha make your way back toward the main floor of the gym, weaving through clumps of students who are laughing, dancing, or just trying not to look awkward. You glance around, trying to decide what to do next now that the karaoke booth is behind you. @@.player;"What else should we do?"@@ you ask, shifting closer to her so she can hear you over the music. Samantha gives a casual shrug. @@.samantha;"I dunno. We can't grab Luke yet. He's still glued to that group of footabll guys. Might as well kill time with one of the activities."@@ @@.player;"Like what?"@@ you ask. Her eyes flick to the far corner of the gym. @@.samantha;"How about the wheel?"@@ @@.player;"The wheel?"@@ you repeat, face scrunching up. Something about the way she said it makes it sound ominous. A cursed relic passed down from seniors to unsuspecting freshmen. @@.player;"What the hell is the wheel?"@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"It's not that deep, man. It's just a stupid prize wheel. Everyone gets one spin, y'know, to kick off the year or whatever. Most of the prizes suck. They're, like, stickers or pencils or something. But sometimes you get lucky. Snack vouchers, homework passes, school merch. That kind of thing."@@ @@.player;"Oh,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That doesn't sound too bad."@@ @@.samantha;"Didn't you you were such a thrill-seeker."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Let's just go. I'm feeling lucky."@@ The two of you head toward the spinning wheel setup. The wheel itself is obnoxiously colorful, divided into sections labeled with prizes in bold blocky font. "STICKER SHEET," "FREE COOKIES," "HOMEWORK PASS," "KEYCHAIN," "EXTRA CREDIT," "HOT CHIPS." It clicks noisily as it spins, and the crowd cheers every time someone wins something decent. You and Samantha get in line, which moves faster than you expected. You try not to fidget, but the anticipation is weirdly contagious. She leans in, mock-whispering. @@.samantha;"If you win a sticker, I'm never letting you live it down."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"If I win a sticker, I'm giving it to you."@@ @@.samantha;"How generous."@@ Finally, you're at the front of the line. A girl in a student council shirt and cat-ear headband greets you with a clipboard and a polite smile. @@.girl;"Hi there. Can I see your student ID?"@@ she asks. You fish it out of your pocket and hand it over. She glances at the name, checks a box on her list, and nods. @@.girl;"Alright, you're good to go."@@ You step up to the wheel and place your hand on the edge. It's slightly sticky from too many sweaty palms, but you try not to think about that too hard. You glance over at Samantha, who gives you a thumbs-up. It's time to spin. <<button "Put in a little bit of force" "Day 5 - 12">>\<<set $d5wheel to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Put in a moderate amount of force" "Day 5 - 12">>\<<set $d5wheel to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Put in a lot of force" "Day 5 - 12">>\<<set $d5wheel to 2>>\<</button>> \<<set $d5rng to random(0, 2)>>\

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d5wheel is 0>>\ You only put a little bit of force into the wheel, giving it a gentle spin. It turns slowly, clicking from section to section, and finally creeps toward its stopping point. @@.girl;"Ooh, congrats!"@@ the girl manning the wheel says, handing you a ticket. @@.girl;"You won a month of a free gym membership! This is the best prize we have."@@ @@.samantha;"Damn, you can get jacked, $name!"@@ Samantha slaps you on the back affectionately. @@.player;"Guess I've got to start working out now,"@@ you say, a grin on your face. Although a gym membership wasn't exactly what you were looking for, winning a prize felt good. <<elseif $d5wheel is 1>>\ You put a moderate amount of force on the wheel, and it spins at a steady pace, clicking through the sections a few times. Eventually, though, it starts to slow down, and it finally clicks to a stop. You end up winning a school hoodie, which you see as a pretty decent prize. It says Pacific Crest High School across the front and has the school mascot, a panther, looking ferocious. @@.samantha;"Not bad,"@@ Samantha says, whistling as you're handed the hoodie. @@.player;"I guess this is decent,"@@ you shrug. <<else>>\ You put all your strength into the spin, and the wheel whirls wildly. It spins for a long time, and the tension builds as you watch nervously. Finally, it begins to slow, clicking to a stop. Despite all the tension, you end up winning a school spirit wristband, one of the worst prizes you could get. The girl attending the stand congratulates you and drops the wristband into your hand. @@.samantha;"Nice prize, $name,"@@ Samantha laughs at your disappointed expression. @@.player;"What did I put that much effort in for?"@@ you ask, letting out a defeated sigh. <</if>>\ @@.samantha;"Move aside, it is my turn now,"@@ Samantha announces, handing over her student ID and spinning the wheel. She puts so much force into it that the wheel, which was probably made in a few minutes, almost topples over. @@.girl;"You won a keychain,"@@ the girl tells Samantha, much to her chagrin. <<button "Continue" "Day 5 - 13">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> You head over to the snack table with Samantha, which is filled with chips, cookies, pizza, soda, and punch. You notice a lot of the good snacks are already gone, not to mention the pizza is all stale and cold. @@.samantha;"Hey, I'm going to head to the restroom real quick, okay?"@@ Samantha says after she takes a sip of soda. @@.samantha;"Just wait here for me."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, sure,"@@ you reply, watching as Samantha scurries off toward the restroom. You eat some pretzels and chips when you notice some people you recognize around you. Jessica stands by the snack table with casual confidence, sipping on some punch by herself. Vincent is standing off to the side, carefully analyzing the variety of snacks. You see Aurora standing away from the main table, sipping a dark-colored drink that you're pretty sure she brought. Finally, Jordan stands by the drinks, his muscular frame making him hard to miss. <<button "Go talk to Jessica" "Day 5 - 14">>\<<set $d5snack to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D5_snack_talk" "jessica" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Go talk to Vincent" "Day 5 - 14">>\<<set $d5snack to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D5_snack_talk" "vincent" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Go talk to Aurora" "Day 5 - 14">>\<<set $d5snack to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D5_snack_talk" "aurora" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Go talk to Jordan" "Day 5 - 14">>\<<set $d5snack to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D5_snack_talk" "jordan" "rel">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d5snack is 0>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Hey, Jessica,"@@ you say approaching her nervously. You're scared that she'll ignore you or be mad that you're talking to her due to the difference in popularity between you two. @@.jessica;"Oh, homeroom partner!"@@ she greets you. @@.jessica;"What's up?"@@ @@.player;"I just wanted to say your outfit is really awesome, you pull it off well,"@@ you enthuse. @@.jessica;"Oh, thanks!"@@ Jessica smiles. She looks down at her perfectly fitted green dress. @@.jessica;"I can't show up looking raggedy to the first social event of the year, can I?"@@ @@.player;"No, you can't,"@@ you chuckle. @@.player;"I'm surprised you didn't tell me to go away."@@ @@.jessica;"Look, I'm really not that mean,"@@ Jessica rubs the bridge of her nose. @@.jessica;"A lot of people spread rumors about me, so I think you have the wrong idea of who I am."@@ @@.player;"I know you're not mean, we are homeroom partners after all,"@@ you stick your hand out. @@.jessica;"Yup, you're stuck with me all year,"@@ Jessica says, shaking your hand. <<elseif $d5snack is 1>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"How's it going, Vincent?"@@ you ask as you approach him. You realize he's dressed in a faded graphic tee with a sci-fi design on it, you can't help but be endeared by his commitment to his nerdy interests. @@.vincent;"Oh, hey $name!"@@ Vincent says, enthused to see you. @@.vincent;"It's nice to finally see someone I know here."@@ @@.player;"Why, have you been alone this whole time?"@@ you ask, tilting your head. @@.vincent;"Yeah, I don't even know why I decided to come,"@@ Vincent says softly, looking down at the floor. @@.vincent;"But whatever, I'll just enjoy the free snacks and then go home soon."@@ @@.player;"Well, what would you say the best snack here is?"@@ you ask, trying to appeal to his interests. @@.player;"What's better, the cookies or the chips?"@@ @@.vincent;"Well, the cookies have more immediate energy since they have a lot of sugar,"@@ Vincent launches into an explanation. @@.vincent;"But chips provide longer-lasting energy from the fat and carbohydrates. They're both really good, just for different things."@@ @@.player;"So I should grab both?"@@ you ask playfully. @@.vincent;"Well, if you're going to stay here for the rest of the party, maybe a combination is the way to go,"@@ Vincent says, a smile on his face. @@.vincent;"Got to keep the energy levels up, right?"@@ <<elseif $d5snack is 2>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Hey, Aurora,"@@ you can't help but shiver as you approach the mysterious girl. @@.player;"What are you drinking? It doesn't look like any drink that's offered here."@@ @@.aurora;"Oh, this?"@@ she asks, smirking and holding up the black drink. @@.aurora;"It's just soda."@@ @@.player;"Hmm, okay,"@@ you say, the skepticism obvious in your tone. @@.player;"Can I ask about what you said to me in the hallway?"@@ @@.aurora;"Shh,"@@ Aurora shushes you, putting a finger to your lips with a cheeky smile on her face. @@.aurora;"Not in the middle of a party."@@ @@.player;"Oh, sure,"@@ you murmur, instantly feeling embarrassed even as she takes her finger off your lips. @@.player;"Is there anywhere I can find you? You don't have any socials."@@ @@.aurora;"You'll find me when you need to,"@@ Aurora takes another sip of her drink. @@.aurora;"Don't worry."@@ <<elseif $d5snack is 3>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Jordan, how are you?"@@ you ask, walking toward him. You see Jordan sipping on a bottle of water with an unreadable expression on his face. Despite the fact that he's on the football team, he's not with the rest of the team. @@.player;"You're looking like you're in top shape, do you train daily?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, every day,"@@ he says, a bit of irritation evident in his gruff voice. @@.jordan;"Some people slack off, but I don't."@@ @@.player;"Oh, I see,"@@ you struggle to find what to say next. @@.player;"Do you have any tips for me? I'm trying to stay fit myself."@@ @@.jordan;"If you're serious about it, you can't make excuses,"@@ Jordan explains. @@.jordan;"I don't waste time giving advice to people who aren't willing to push themselves."@@ @@.player;"Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot,"@@ you say, trying to exude cold confidence like Jordan does so effortlessly. @@.player;"I'm willing to put in the effort and I won't give up so easily."@@ @@.jordan;"Hmm,"@@ Jordan says, his eyes flickering in surprise. @@.jordan;"You know what, fine. I like your guts, so I'll give you some advice. Make sure you push yourself but don't do it for others. That type of motivation won't last. Remember first and foremost it's about you."@@ <</if>>\ You spot the gym door swinging open and Samantha steps into the party, looking around for you. @@.player;"Oh, I have to go now,"@@ you quickly wave goodbye and make your way to Samantha. @@.samantha;"Hey, $name,"@@ Samantha greets you. @@.samantha;"Come on, let's get Luke now."@@ <<button "Go take back Luke" "Day 5 - 15">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> @@.samantha;"Hello football players!"@@ Samantha says, approaching the entire football team with an unmatched confidence. @@.samantha;"$name and I have come back to take back our beloved Puke, thank you!"@@ @@.luke;"Oh, yeah,"@@ Luke chuckles as the entire football team looks at him. @@.luke;"I promised my friends that I'd hang out with them at this party."@@ <<if $popularity > 39>>\ @@.boy;"You're going to ditch us for Samantha and this random guy?"@@ one of the football players asks. <<else>>\ @@.boy;"You're going to ditch us for Samantha and this loser?"@@ one of the football players asks. <</if>>\ @@.luke;"Hey, $name is my friend, don't fucking act like that,"@@ Luke snarls, getting all up in the other guys face. @@.luke;"Look, I've been hanging out with you guys for this entire party, I'm going to hang out with my closest friends now."@@ @@.samantha;"Damn, Luke,"@@ Samantha giggles at Luke's display he just put on. @@.samantha;"So you can be scary when you feel like it."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, yeah,"@@ Luke says as the three of you walk away from the football team. <<button "Thank Luke for defending you" "Day 5 - 16">>\<<set $d5thank to true>>\<<trackChoice "D5_thank_luke" true "rel">><</button>> <<button "Don't thank Luke for defending you" "Day 5 - 16">>\<<set $d5thank to false>>\<<trackChoice "D5_thank_luke" false "rel">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d5thank is true>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Oh, thanks for defending me by the way,"@@ you say as Luke leads you and Samantha to the main party. @@.player;"I appreciate it."@@ @@.luke;"Of course,"@@ Luke says, a bright smile on his face. @@.luke;"What, do you think I would just let them insult you?"@@ @@.player;"Well, it was still nice of you,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"Thank you."@@ <<else>>\ You stay silent as Luke leads you and Samantha back to the main party. <</if>>\ @@.samantha;"Ooh, we should go check out the face paint station!"@@ Samantha chirps as she spots a boy with a basketball painted on his cheek. @@.samantha;"We can get designs painted on us."@@ @@.luke;"I'm up for that,"@@ Luke nods. @@.luke;"I wonder what design I should get."@@ @@.girl;"Hey, what can I do for you?"@@ asks Rachel, a girl that you recognize, at the face paint station. @@.girl;"We've got all sorts of designs! I can do something subtle or something a bit bolder, all up to you."@@ @@.luke;"I'll just go with some eye black,"@@ Luke takes a seat at the station and moves his face toward Rachel. @@.samantha;"Isn't that a bit boring though?"@@ Samantha asks, tilting her head. @@.samantha;"How about Rachel paints your face white?"@@ @@.luke;"Why would I paint my face white?"@@ Luke frowns. @@.samantha;"Then she can add some red on your nose, and some blue around your eyes,"@@ Samantha breaks into a smirk and giggles. @@.luke;"I am not a clown,"@@ Luke sighs, realizing what Samantha was implying. @@.luke;"Just two black lines under my eyes if you may, Rachel. Ignore Samantha."@@ @@.girl;"I think Samantha's idea is better, but sure,"@@ the girl gets some black paint and makes two quick lines under Luke's eyes. @@.girl;"There you go!"@@ @@.luke;"Thanks,"@@ Luke says as he stands up. He looks significantly more threatening and athletic than he did just a minute ago. @@.luke;"How do I look?"@@ @@.samantha;"Are you sure you don't want to get some red paint on your nose?"@@ Samantha sighs, acting disappointed. @@.luke;"I'm positive,"@@ Luke replies. @@.samantha;"Well, I want a rainbow on my cheek,"@@ Samantha says, taking the seat in front of Rachel. Rachel works quickly and a few seconds later, Samantha is looking fancy. @@.samantha;"This washes off, right?"@@ @@.girl;"Yes, don't worry, it'll come off when you're wiping off your makeup,"@@ Rachel says. @@.girl;"Okay, how about you, $name?"@@ @@.player;"Huh, me?"@@ you ask, snapping back to reality. @@.player;"Umm, I'm not sure."@@ @@.luke;"Come on, you should get one,"@@ Luke tries convincing you. @@.girl;"We have some popular designs over here, take a look,"@@ Rachel says, showing you a laminated piece of paper with a bunch of designs. A few stick out to you, and you decide on what you should get. <<button "Decide not to get your face painted" "Day 5 - 17">>\<<set $d5design to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Get a small star on your cheek" "Day 5 - 17">>\<<set $d5design to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Get a tiny flower on your forehead" "Day 5 - 17">>\<<set $d5design to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Get a tribal symbol under your eye" "Day 5 - 17">>\<<set $d5design to 3>>\<</button>> <<button "Get a small heart near your temple" "Day 5 - 17">>\<<set $d5design to 4>>\<</button>> <<button "Get a lightning bolt across your cheek" "Day 5 - 17">>\<<set $d5design to 5>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d5design is 0>>\ @@.player;"I think I'll pass for today,"@@ you say, shaking your head. @@.player;"I don't really want to get my face painted."@@ @@.samantha;"Boring!"@@ Samantha rolls her eyes. @@.luke;"What a shame,"@@ Luke sighs. <<elseif $d5design is 1>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I want a simple star on my cheek, just below my eye,"@@ you say, taking a seat at the table. It's a subtle design, but it has a fun vibe that fits the party well. @@.girl;"Oh, that's a good one,"@@ Rachel says, picking up a brush and dipping it in silver paint. She quickly paints a star on your cheek, adding a white outline and a hint of sparkle. @@.girl;"Perfect, it looks great on you."@@ @@.samantha;"Pretty classic design, good one,"@@ Samantha compliments, nodding her head. @@.luke;"Yup, it looks nice,"@@ Luke pats your back. <<elseif $d5design is 2>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I want a flower on my forehead,"@@ you say, taking a seat at the table. It's a delicate bloom that would sit somewhere visible, and you think it would look nice. @@.girl;"Good choice!"@@ Rachel says, smiling. She picks up a brush and delicately paints a small, pink-and-white flower on your forehead. @@.girl;"It's subtle but adds a nice touch to your face."@@ @@.samantha;"Little girly, but it looks cute,"@@ Samantha compliments, nodding her head. @@.luke;"Good choice,"@@ Luke pats your back. <<elseif $d5design is 3>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I want a tribal symbol under my eye,"@@ you say, taking a seat and pointing to an intricate tribal design. It's a few sharp angular lines, and it looks bold and cool. @@.girl;"Nice!"@@ Rachel says, painting the lines for you. You check it out in the mirror and it adds a slightly more rebellious edge to your look. @@.girl;"That's a bit edgier, but definitely unique."@@ @@.samantha;"Ooh, cool design,"@@ Samantha compliments, nodding her head. @@.luke;"Yeah, it really makes you look like someone that shouldn't be messed with,"@@ Luke pats your back. <<elseif $d5design is 4>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I want a small heart near my temple, something simple,"@@ you say, taking a seat at the table. A heart fit with just about anything, so you thought it would be a good choice. @@.girl;"Sure, let me draw it on you,"@@ Rachel picks up her brush and quickly paints a tiny, red heart on your face. @@.girl;"That one's cute! It suits you."@@ @@.samantha;"Did you want to show that off to your crush, $name?"@@ Samantha giggles. @@.luke;"Who knows, maybe he's just showing off his romantic side,"@@ Luke shrugs. <<elseif $d5design is 5>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'll take the lighting bolt,"@@ you say, sitting down and pointing to the jagged design. @@.player;"Something with a bit more edge."@@ @@.girl;"Love it,"@@ Rachel says, flicking her wrist to draw the yellow lightning bolt on your cheek. @@.girl;"That one's got energy."@@ @@.samantha;"Cool, you look badass,"@@ Samantha giggles. @@.luke;"Talk about making a statement,"@@ Luke whistles in appreciation. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"Well, thanks for checking out the face paint station!"@@ Rachel says with a genuine smile on her face. @@.girl;"I hope you all are satisfied with what you got."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh yeah, thanks Rach,"@@ Samantha replies. The three of you spend the rest of the time hanging out and fooling around, along with participating in some of the smaller activities. Time passes, and eventually, the night starts to wind down. As you, Luke, and Samantha are sipping on punch at the back of the gym, the lights suddenly dim. The upbeat music fades into a slower, more romantic tune. The gym looks almost magical with the soft lighting and music, the balloons and confetti littering the floor. The speakers crackle with static before a voice comes out. @@.boy;"Alright, everyone,"@@ the DJ, who's actually just a teacher, announces. @@.boy;"It's time to cap off the night with our last dance. Find a partner, someone you'd like to share this moment with and let's make it a night to remember!"@@ You watch as couples begin to take the floor, your heart starting to beat a little faster as you contemplate what you should do. You look from Samantha to your left and Luke to your right, your eyes jumping from one to the other, before you finally make a decision. <<button "Sit out the dance" "Day 5 - 18">>\<<set $d5dance to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D5_dance" "sit out" "story">><</button>> <<button "Dance with Samantha" "Day 5 - Samantha">>\<<set $d5dance to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D5_dance" "samantha" "story">><</button>> <<button "Dance with Luke" "Day 5 - Luke">>\<<set $d5dance to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D5_dance" "luke" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> The night winds down, and the lights in the gym begin to dim. This signals the end of the back-to-school party, and everyone knows it. Students start to gather their belongings, lingering in small groups. The principal takes the microphone once more to address the crowd. @@.boy;"Alright, everyone!"@@ he says, a wide smile plastered on his face. @@.boy;"I hope you had a fantastic time tonight! Let's give a big hand to the student council and everyone who helped put this amazing party together!"@@ A round of applause erupts across the gym, with a few cheers from students. @@.boy;"Before you head out, I just want to give you all a quick reminder,"@@ the principal says. @@.boy;"Let's keep things respectful as you head home, and get some rest. We've got a big year ahead of us, and I know you're all going to make it one to remember! Have a safe night."@@ Students begin to filter out of the gym. Some are still buzzing with energy while others are ready to get into bed and sleep after hours of dancing and socializing. You find yourself standing with Luke and Samantha near the gym's entrance, the three of you basking in the afterglow of a night well spent. @@.samantha;"I feel like we just got started, and it's over already?"@@ Samantha asks. @@.luke;"I don't know, I'm dead tired,"@@ Luke stretches. @@.luke;"I'm ready to crash."@@ @@.player;"But it was fun, right?"@@ you smile. @@.player;"Totally worth it."@@ As the three of you reach the parking lot, you all say your goodbyes and split off. You can still hear the distant echoes of laughter and chatter as you walk home. <<button "Continue" "Day 5 - 19">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<if $d5party is true>>\ You get back home and collapse on your bed, burying your face in the pillow. @@.lily;"How was the party?"@@ Lily opens your door and asks. @@.lily;"Wait, let me guess! You were so unpopular that everyone called you a loser and laughed at you."@@ @@.player;"Projecting much?"@@ you groan. @@.lily;"Geez, you must be really tired,"@@ Lily says, her voice taking on a softer tone. @@.lily;"You're not as mean as usual."@@ @@.player;"Too tired."@@ @@.lily;"Well, I'll leave you be,"@@ Lily turns off the light for you and exits your room. You instantly fall asleep, ready for the weekend. <<else>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "SkipBTSParty">>\ You spend the next few hours doing nothing, just wasting time as you didn't go to the party. Your sister comes into the room and makes fun of you a few times, calling you a loser. Normal sibling banter. You get a few texts from Samantha and Luke, and they seem disappointed you didn't attend. You try and ignore the nagging feeling that you should've attended the party as you drift off to sleep. Maybe you missed a lot of cool stuff that could've happened. <</if>>\ <<button "It's time for the weekend" "Day 6 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> You spot your usual table in the cafeteria and weave your way through the crowd, tray in hand. Lunch is halfway over, and you're one of the last ones to get your food today. The line was absolutely ''brutal''. You balance your tray carefully, the steam rising off your lukewarm spaghetti, and try not to spill your milk on your shirt as you finally slide into your seat. Luke's already sitting there, already done eating two meals and a bag of chips. He nods in greeting. @@.luke;"Thought you got lost,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"That line was insane."@@ Samantha looks up from her phone. @@.samantha;"There you are,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Took you long enough."@@ You shrug, setting your tray down. @@.player;"Guess a lunch lady was on break or something."@@ Samantha turns off her phone and slips it into her pocket. @@.samantha;"Well, you're just in time. I was telling Luke about my outfit for the back-to-school party."@@ @@.luke;"She's been talking about it since first period,"@@ Luke says, clearly exasperated. Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"Sorry for having a functioning sense of style."@@ @@.luke;"You dragged us to so many stores yesterday,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"I thought we were just hanging out, and suddenly I'm carrying shopping bags like some pack mule."@@ @@.samantha;"You weren't even carrying that many,"@@ Samantha counters. @@.samantha;"Also, you got candy out of it. So I'd call that a fair deal."@@ @@.luke;"Those Skittles were a month old,"@@ Luke mourns. @@.player;"You sure they weren't expired or something?"@@ Luke shrugs, grinning. @@.luke;"They were kind of melting, but still tasted good."@@ You take a bite of your spaghetti. It's overcooked, but edible. Classic cafeteria food. @@.samantha;"Anyway, isn't this kind of exciting?"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"First big thing of the school year."@@ You nod, half-distracted by a noodle trying to escape your tray. @@.player;"It's definitely a... thing."@@ Samantha narrows her eyes at you. @@.samantha;"That sounds suspiciously like someone who hasn't even thought of what he's wearing yet."@@ @@.player;"I mean... I've thought about it."@@ Luke snorts into his milk carton. @@.luke;"He totally hasn't."@@ You sigh. @@.player;"I've partially thought of it."@@ Samantha leans forward slightly, tapping her fingers against the table. @@.samantha;"I swear, $name, if you show up in that same thing you always fucking wear—"@@ @@.player;"—You'll love me anyway?"@@ you offer. @@.samantha;"No,"@@ she says flatly. @@.samantha;"I'll abandon you and pretend we don't know each other."@@ @@.luke;"That's cold,"@@ Luke comments. @@.samantha;"That's honest,"@@ Samantha states. @@.samantha;"But seriously, are you gonna even come?"@@ <<button "Downplay the party and focus on other things" "Day 5 - 3">>\<<set $temp to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Show excitement and ask about the party" "Day 5 - 3">>\<<set $temp to false>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> <<if $temp is true>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social - 1, 0, 100)>>\ You force a scoff and lean back in your chair like the party is the last thing on your mind. @@.player;"Who cares about the party?"@@ you mutter, trying to sound casual. @@.player;"It's just a bunch of people standing around in a gym trying to pretend they're having fun. No thanks."@@ @@.player;"Anyway,"@@ you say, glancing back up. @@.player;"What are you guys doing this weekend? Luke, don't tell me you're just gonna sleep and play video games."@@ @@.luke;"Hey, I //do// stuff,"@@ he says, mouth half-full with... something. @@.luke;"Important stuff. Like sleep and video games."@@ Samantha isn't letting you drop the subject. @@.samantha;"Bruh,"@@ she says flatly. @@.samantha;"Stop trying to change the topic."@@ You shrug. @@.samantha;"You're going,"@@ she says, tone final. @@.samantha;"I don't care if I have to drag you there myself. It's the first big thing of the year. No way you're skipping out."@@ You don't reply right away, deciding to just keep eating. <<else>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You light up a little, a smile forming before you can even realize it. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"I'm actually really looking forward to it. The past few days have been... weird, sure, but kind of good too. I met some new people. Vincent's cool and I talked to Jessica a little bit."@@ Samantha pauses. @@.samantha;"Wait. //Jessica// Jessica?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"We had a moment the other day, I guess. Homeroom does that."@@ Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Cheer captain Jessica? Jessica Sanders?"@@ @@.player;"She's nice,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.samantha;"Okay, hold on,"@@ Samantha says, eyebrows raised. @@.samantha;"Vincent I can see, but Jessica?"@@ She glances at Luke like she's checking whether she misheard something. @@.samantha;"Next thing you're gonna tell me is that Jordan asked you to hang out."@@ Luke laughs. @@.luke;"Honestly, I'd believe it at this point."@@ You chuckle and shake your head. <</if>>\ A shaddow suddenly crosses the table. A guy stands just off to the side, tall and sharp. While you don't know his name, you //do// recognize him from the hallways and you //do// know he's popular. He glances between you, Samantha, and Luke, then settles his eyes on you. <<if $popularity > 39>>\ @@.boy;"Hey, $name,"@@ he says, a friendly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. @@.boy;"We were hoping you'd swing by the party tonight. It'd be great to have you there."@@ You blink, surprised. You're not used to guys like him coming over unprompted, let alone addressing you like you matter. @@.boy;"We're trying to get a good crowd together, you know?"@@ he adds. @@.boy;"First party of the year, want it to be a decent turnout."@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"I've been thinking about it,"@@ you say, nudging your head toward Samantha and Luke. @@.boy;"Awesome, hope to see you there,"@@ he says, his smile widening before he turns and walks off. You watch him go for a second. @@.luke;"Damn,"@@ Luke says, eyebrows raised. @@.luke;"He was pretty nice about it. Guy treated you like you were royalty or something."@@ Samantha just smirks but doesn't say anything. Luke leans back. @@.luke;"You know, if you weren't as popular, I bet that conversation would've gone way different."@@ You don't answer, but you're thinking the same thing. <<else>>\ @@.boy;"Hey, $name,"@@ he says, his voice clipped. @@.boy;"Come to the party tonight, okay?"@@ He doesn't phrase it like a question. It's closer to an obligation than an invitation. @@.boy;"We're trying to get everyone there,"@@ he adds, folding his arms like he's checking off a mental list. @@.player;"Uh, I'm still thinking about it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Just chatting it over with my friends."@@ There's a pause. His eyes linger on you like he's evaluating something and not loving the result. @@.boy;"Unless you've got some kind of emergency, you should probably come,"@@ he says with a tight sigh. With that, he turns and leaves, not bothering to say goodbye. Luke snorts. @@.luke;"Dude,"@@ he says, shaking his head. @@.luke;"That was like... barely above a threat."@@ He laughs, bewildered. @@.luke;"I guess this is how they treat you when you're not part an insider."@@ Samantha leans back. @@.samantha;"Still, it's pretty wild that he came over at all."@@ Luke leans in, his tone light again. @@.luke;"Honestly though, if you show up, maybe I'll go too."@@ @@.samantha;"You were always going,"@@ Samantha says, rolling her eyes. @@.samantha;"Don't even try to play it cool now."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Finish up school" "Day 5 - 4">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $shoes to 69>>\ You finally make it home after a long day at school, your backpack sliding off your shoulders as you drop it. You sit down at your desk, the chair cool against your legs, and exhale slowly. The party's at five. You still have time. But let's be honest, the real question is //if// not //when//. You lean back slightly, staring at the ceiling as your mind weighs the options. Going could be fun. There'd be music, snacks, people from school. Maybe even a chance to talk to someone new. It might be chaotic and awkward and loud as hell, but it could also be exciting. Or... you could stay at home. No pressure or crowd. Just a few hours to yourself with no obligations, noise, or expectations. It //is// kind of tempting, especially after how strange the past few days have been. It's time to make a choice. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ Going to the party is highly recommended. There is no alternative content if you decide not to go to the party, and it'll hurt your popularity significantly. Not going to the party has no benefits whatsoever. </div>\ <<button "Go to the party" "Day 5 - 5">>\<<set $d5party to true>>\<<trackChoice "D5_attend_party" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't go to the party" "Day 5 - 19">>\<<set $d5party to false>>\<<trackChoice "D5_attend_party" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<grantAchievement "BTSParty">>\ You let out a slow breath, dragging your hand through your hair as you finally reach a decision. You're going. The party won't change your life or anything, but sitting around second-guessing it definitely won't either. You reach for your phone, thumbs tapping out a quick message to the group chat. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">alright</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i decided im going lol</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">YESSS</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">knew u would</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">now i wont be stuck with samantha</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">bitch excuse me???</div> </div>\ </div>\ Their enthusiasm brings a faint smile to your face. You toss the phone onto your bed (it keeps buzzing) and sit back in your chair, trying to shake the nerves beginning to creep in. You've still got some time to kill before the party kicks off at five, so you pull out your homework and do your best to focus, even if your mind keeps wandering. A little while later, you glance at the clock and its already 4:17 p.m. Shit. You need to get ready. You push back from your desk and make your way over to the closet. The door creaks a little as you open it, revealing the familiar line-up of clothes. Your eyes land on your go-to, the plain white T-shirt. It's safe, it's comfortable, and you know it won't make anyone look twice. ...But maybe that's the problem. Your gaze shifts to a red flannel jacket hanging just beside it. It's simple and the kind of thing that adds a bit of effort to an otherwise basic outfit without feeling like you're trying too hard. The reds and blacks in the pattern give it a warm vibe. You haven't worn it in a while, but tonight might just be the perfect time. You hesitate, fingers grazing the fabric. This party feels like a chance. Not a huge life-defining moment or anything, but a chance to be seen a little differently. To take a small step into something new. Whatever you choose to wear tonight will say something. <<button "Your usual T-shirt" "Day 5 - 6">>\<<set $top to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "A T-shirt with a flannel jacket over it" "Day 5 - 6">>\<<set $top to 1>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<if $top is 0>>\ You eye the flannel one last time before deciding to just keep on your tried-and-true T-shirt instead. It's the same white one you've worn a hundred times before. You tell yourself that no one really cares what you were anyway as you tug it over your head. You glance in the mirror. It's not flashy or new but it //is// you. Or at least the version of you everyone's used to. The idea of drawing more attention to yourself than ncessary,especially gives what the curse has changed, makes your stomach twist a little. Still, as you smooth out the wrinkles on the front, a flicker of doubt lingers. Is this playing it safe, or just hiding? <<else>>\ You run your fingers over the flanne's sleeve, hesitating for only a moment before slipping it on. When you look at yourself in the mirror, it's different... but in a good way. The open flannel layered over your T-shirt adds a little depth, a bit of personality. There's something oddly satisfying about the way the checkered pattern breaks up your usual monotony. You think you kind of look cool, then immediately shake your head at yourself. You're not cool, but you're at least not boring. That's enough. <</if>>\ You look down at your ower half and see the same-old beige cargo shorts. They're functional, sure, but maybe a bit too casual for a party. Then again, they //do// have a million pockets and it's not like anyone's handing out fashion awards anyway. <div class="note">You will only have an option for this if you bought the skinny jeans at the mall yesterday.</div>\ <<button "Just wear your usual shorts" "Day 5 - 7">>\<<set $pants to 0>>\<</button>> <<if $skinnyjeans is true>>\ <<button "Wear the skinny jeans you bought yesterday" "Day 5 - 7">>\<<set $pants to 1>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<if $pants is 0>>\ You glance down at your legs, still clad in your usual cargo shorts. They've served you well for countless school days, lazy afternoon, and vacations. You briefly consider switching them out, but you shake your head. If it's good enough for everyday life, it's good enough for a school party, right? You run your hands over the fabric, brushing off a few imaginary creases. They're comofrtable, familiar, and very low-effort. And right now, low-effort feels safe. It'll make it easy to disappear if the party gets overwhelming, too. It might not be flashy, but it's you. <<else>>\ You pull out the skinny blue pair of jeans you bought at the mall just yesterday. You hesitate only briefly before tugging off your shorts and sliding the jeans on. They hug your legs snugly. After you fasten the button and pull up the zipper, you look in the mirror. //Woah.// They fit ''way'' better than you expected. It's not huge or dramatic, but it does feel good. You look a little more put-together, a little more like someone who came to the party on purpose. It feels like you're trying. <</if>>\ With your outfit finalized, you glance at the clock. Almost time. You stretch to get release some of the nervous energy then make your way downstairs. You pause briefly at the bottom of the stairs, eyes scanning the living room. Of course she's there. @@.lily;"Going to the party?"@@ Lily calls out casually. You glance over your shoulder. @@.player;"Yeah. It's kind of a big deal, you know. First school event and all that."@@ @@.lily;"Mhm,"@@ she hums. @@.lily;"I'm gonna go when I get to high school too. Better parties, better people, better outfits. That's the Lily way."@@ @@.player;"Better outfits?"@@ you ask with a smirk. @@.player;"You gonan wear your glitter llama pajamas?"@@ @@.lily;"Shut up,"@@ she groans, slapping a throw pillow in your direction but missing by a mile. <<if $earrings is 1>>\ Just as you turn toward the door, Lily suddenly sits upright, squinting at your head. @@.lily;"Wait. Stop. Let me see your ears real quick."@@ Before you can protest, she hops off the couch and bounds over, invading your personal space. @@.lily;"Did you... did you get them pierced?"@@ she gasps, her eyes widening. You hesitate before replying. @@.player;"So what if I did?"@@ @@.lily;"That's actually so cool!"@@ she beams. @@.lily;"You're finally doing something interesting for once. Keep this up and you might not be such a total loser."@@ <<if $popularity > 39>>\ @@.player;"I'm not that unpopular, you know,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"Sure, sure. Big man on campus now, huh?"@@ Lily states, rolling her eyes. She crosses her arms but grins anyway. @@.lily;"Still, try not to embarrass yourself tonight, okay? I'm going to Pacific Crest next year too, and I don't want people thinking my older brother is some weirdo with no social skills."@@ @@.player;"I'l do my best,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.player;"Just for you."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Damn. Harsh,"@@ you mutter. @@.lily;"I'm just telling the truth,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Still, try not to totally ruin the family reputation, okay? I'll be there next year too, and I want people to think I come from cool stock."@@ You let out a short laugh. @@.player;"Cool stock? ''Please'' never say that again."@@ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ @@.lily;"Anyway, try not to be too cringy,"@@ she says with a dramatic sigh. @@.lily;"I'm going to Pacific Crest next year, remember? I don't want to have to spend my entire freshman year for my weird older brother."@@ You flash a grin. @@.player;"No promises, but I'll try to tone it down."@@ @@.lily;"You better."@@ <</if>>\ You open the door and step out, the chill of the evening brushing your skin. Behind you, Lily's already absorbed in her phone again like the whole conversation didn't even happen. It's time for the party. <<button "Go to the party" "Day 5 - 8">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<set $shoes to 0>>\ The moment you step through the double doors into the gym, you're hit with a swirl of color. The ceiling is lined with purple fabric and glowing lights. A large disco ball is in the middle, and some balloons (that have miraculously //not// been popped) are floating. A soft mist rolls across the floor from rented fog machines. Students are already mingling, laughing, posing for photos, and showing off their outfits. You stand there for a second, just taking it all in. You were right to come. Even if you just made the decision an hour ago, something about being here makes things feel good. Before you can take another step, a familiar voice cuts through the music. @@.samantha;"$name, you actually came!"@@ Samantha jogs up to you, glowing with excitement. Her hair isn't under a beanie for once, and she clearly put effort into her look. A rarity, considering you're talking to Samantha Fucking Rivera. @@.samantha;"I'll be honest, I was worried you were gonna fake,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Luke said he wasn't sure either, and you didn't text me back, so I was already forming backup plans. I didn't want to look like a loser when I put in this much effort. Ugh, I miss Threadz already."@@ @@.player;"Of course I came,"@@ you say, omitting the whole inner-debate you had about it all afternoon. @@.player;"Where's Luke, anyway?"@@ Samantha rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"He got kidnapped by the football team because they needed someone to 'boost morale.' Translation: they needed someone who can carry six sodas and make them all laugh."@@ That sounds about right. @@.samantha;"We'll steal him back later,"@@ she adds. @@.samantha;"No way I'm letting them take our dog. But right now, more importantly, what do you think of how I look?"@@ She steps back, letting you get a full view of her outfit. <<if $d4samanthaOutfit is 0>>\ She's wearing a bold red wrap dress that grabs attention. It's not just flashy, it suits her ''really'' well. The fabric has a subtle sheen which catches the gym's colored lights. A tie cinches the waist just off-center, and the hem stops slightly above her knees. It makes her look confident and relaxed. <<elseif $d4samanthaOutfit is 1>>\ She's chosen the pale floral maxi dress, light enough to move gently as she turns. The fabric drapes down past her knees, floating around her like it's caught a breeze. It makes her look peaceful and comfortable in her own skin. <<elseif $d4samanthaOutfit is 2>>\ She's in a simple black dress, the kind that seems like it could be worn anywherre and still feel right. There's a gentle sweetheart neckline that curves without being too show. She's paired it with black flats, skipping the hells, which gives the whole thing a casual balance. <</if>>\ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"You look great. I think I helped make the right decision."@@ @@.samantha;"Of course it looks great,"@@ Samantha remarks. @@.samantha;"No, but I do appreciate it."@@ <<if $top is 0 and $pants is 0>>\ Samantha gives you a long, slow once-over, and her smile drops to a flat line. @@.samantha;"You're kidding me,"@@ she deadpans. @@.samantha;"You showed up like //that//?"@@ You glance down at yourself. Plain white T-shirt and shorts, along with your broken-in Converses. @@.player;"What?"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's clean."@@ @@.samantha;"Nothing screams 'I made no effort at all' like the classic $name shirt and shorts ensemble,"@@ she scoffs, putting a hand on her hip. @@.samantha;"Seriously, were you hoping to win a prize for Most Forgettable?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"I mean, comfort counts for something, right?"@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Comfort is for pajama day, not the first party of senior year."@@ @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you groan. @@.player;"I'll try to rise to your standards next time."@@ <<elseif $top is 1 and $pants is 1>> <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Samantha gives you a long, slow once-over, and her smile grows even larger. @@.samantha;"Oh, okay, look at you,"@@ she says, blinking in surprise. @@.samantha;"Wait a second. Did someone kidnap my fashion-challenged friend and replace him with this guy?"@@ You grin. @@.player;"Is it really that different?"@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, it's like night and day,"@@ she says, stepping into adjust the collar of your flannel. @@.samantha;"Flannel //and// skinny jeans? Who are you trying to impress?"@@ @@.player;"Can't I just look good for once?"@@ you tease. Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"Sure you can. But this is, like, effort. And surprisingly well-coordinated effort. It's throwing me off."@@ @@.player;"I figured it was time for something new,"@@ you say, feeling a little bashful now. She nods slowly, her sarcasm mellowed into genuine approval. @@.samantha;"Well, it's working. You actually look like someone who belongs at this party instead of some random who wandered in looking for the library."@@ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"A compliment without roasting me too hard? Is this you?"@@ @@.samantha;"Don't worry,"@@ she replies. @@.samantha;"Balance will be restored soon enough."@@ <<elseif $top is 1 or $pants is 1>> <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity + 2, 0, 100)>>\ Samantha gives you a long, slow once-over, and her smile stays about the same. @@.samantha;"Huh,"@@ she says, narrowing her eyes slightly. @@.samantha;"Okay, you... kind of tried?"@@ @@.player;"Wow, such glowing praise,"@@ you deadpan. @@.samantha;"No, seriously,"@@ she continues. @@.samantha;"You've got this 'half-evolved Pokoban' thing going on. Like, not a total disaster, but also not quite there yet."@@ @@.player;"Gee, thanks,"@@ you mutter with a smirk. @@.player;"I'll take 'not a total disaster' as a win."@@ @@.samantha;"I see the effort. With some guidance from your fashion fairy godmother, me, you might actually make it through senior year without traumatizing everyone's eyes."@@ You give her a playful bow. @@.player;"Your guidance is deeply appreciated, O Stylish One."@@ <</if>>\ The sudden squeal of microphone feedback pierces the gym, making everyone in the room flinch. The DJ quickly turns the volume down, and a moment later, a familiar voice echoes through the speakers. @@.zhang;"Ah, my apologies, everyone,"@@ says Principal Zhang, stepping up onto the small stage near the front of the gym. He gives a tight smile, the kind that's all teeth. His eyes scan the crowd before he continues. @@.zhang;"I just wanted to personally welcome you all to the 2024 back-to-school party. Senior year is a time for growth, maturity, and for preparing yourselves for the world ahead. But tonight is a time to set that side, and enjoy yourselves, make memories, and represent your school with pride."@@ He pauses, letting the silence linger just a moment longer than necessary. His gaze sweeps over the crowd again, not warmly, but like he's measuring something. @@.boy;"Let this be a night that reflects the very best of who you are,"@@ he says, tone cool. @@.boy;"Enjoy yourselves. Just remember, the eyes of Pacific Crest are always watching."@@ There's a polite round of applause. The principal nods curtly before stepping down, vanishing back into the crowd as the DJ cranks the music back up. You stand there for a second, unsettled. Something about the way he said that last line rubs you the wrong way. Like there was something else under the surface. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you murmur to Samantha beside you. @@.player;"Is it just me, or is there something kinda... off about Principal Zhang?@@ She snorts. @@.samantha;"Off? You mean other than the fact that he sounds like a robot pretending to be human?"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"I'm serious."@@ Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"I've heard some weird stories about him being super strict, yeah. But I dunno. He seemed fine up there. A little creepy, sure, but in a principal kind of way."@@ You glance back at the stage, even though he's no longer there. The last look he gave the crowd still lingers in your mind. Something tells you this won't be the last time you feel it. <<button "Continue" "Day 5 - 9">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> You don't have much time to think about Principal Zhang's weird speech. Samantha grabs your wrist the moment the lights dim and the music kicks back in. @@.samantha;"Alright, enough standing around,"@@ she says, tugging you through the crowd. @@.samantha;"Come on, karaoke's open, and I feel like embarrassing myself in front of a bunch of people."@@ A second later, you're at the karaoke booth. It's not exactly glamorous, to say the least. One microphone has duct tape at the base and the speakers are already crackling slightly from overuse. A small crowd is gathered around the screen, cheering as a girl sings an off-key but enthusiastic rendition of a pop song. Her friends are clapping and shaking tambourines. @@.player;"She's not bad,"@@ you say, stepping up beside Samantha. @@.samantha;"She's better than me,"@@ Samantha admits. @@.samantha;"But I make up for it with sheer volume and dramatic flair."@@ She tilts her head slightly, watching the girl finish her final chrous. As the small crowd gives her a round of applause, Samantha looks at her phone. @@.samantha;"Okay, okay, hmm..."@@ she mutters, scrolling. @@.samantha;"Do I go for a classic or something trending?"@@ <<button "The classic song" "Day 5 - 10">>\<<set $temp to true>>\<<trackChoice "D5_party_song" "classic" "story">><</button>> <<button "The trending song" "Day 5 - 10">>\<<set $temp to false>>\<<trackChoice "D5_party_song" "trending" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d5song is 0>>\ You punch in //September//, and the screen begins flashing with color as the opening notes burst from the speakers. Everyone recognizes the song instantly, and people start cheering before the lyrics even start. You roll your shoulders, letting yourself loosen up as the beat kicks in. It's impossible //not// to move to this song. Even if you're nervous, your body seems to know what to do. As you sing the first line, a few students raise their hands and sway. You catch someone doing a little disco finger point in time with the music. Samantha's cheering for you, yelling @.samantha;"Go, Earth, Wind & $name!"@@ By the time you hit the chorus, you're fully into it, even throwing in little dance moves here and there. Your voice isn't perfect, sure, but it //is// enthusiastic. And that's all this song really needs. Everyone claps along to the beat. When the music ends and the screen fades to black, there's a burst of applause. Someone shouts, @@.boy;"That's how you kick off senior year!"@@ Before you hand the mic back, you yell out, @@.player;"Enjoy this September!"@@ Everyone cheers. Samantha meets you as you move to make space for the next singer, cheeks flushed from the effort. @@.samantha;"Okay, disco king,"@@ she smirks. @@.samantha;"Where have you been hiding all that groove?"@@ You laugh. @@.player;"I don't know, but I'm glad it came out today."@@ <<elseif $d5song is 1>>\ The synth line rings out like a challenge as you press play. You clear your thrt, trying to channel some 80s energy. Most of the verse is easy enough, but you can feel the ending coming. You take a deep breath, and right on cue, you sing. @@.player;"Take onnn meeeee!"@@ Your voice wobbles and your pitch is questionable, but you're giving it your all. The falsetto is //hard//, and you're not even close to nailing the high notes. But it somehow just makes the moment even more fun. People are laughing //with// you, not //at// you. Samantha's doubled over with laughter, clapping along and mouthing @@.samantha;"You're insane!"@@ from the front. As the final note dies out, everyone erupts in claps and hoots. You bow like a rockstar and return to Samantha, who givs you a slow clap. @@.samantha;"You brave, brave soul,"@@ she says, grinning. @@.samantha;"You didn't hit that high note, though."@@ @@.player;"I tried!"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"You did, and you know what? It was kind of cool."@@ <<elseif $d5song is 2>>\ You stare at the mic in your hand, scroll past a few options, then smirk. You type in //Toxic// and press play. The gym lights cast a faint blue glow as the eerie violins screech to life. A few people immediately turns their heads, surprised, but interested. @@.player;"Baby, can't you see... I'm calling..."@@ you begin. Your voice is low, tentative, and sultry in an over-the-top kind of way. You hold the mic a little too close on purpose to give your voice that breathy effect. Samantha gasps and nearly drops her phone. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, what is he doing,"@@ she whispers to someone next to her. But she's clearly entertained. The beat drops, and you commit. You strut across the space, gesturing dramatically. By the chorus, people are howling. Some are waving their arms. One brave student grabs a tambourine and starts shaking it like you're in a club. You power through the final chorus like you've been possesed by Britney's ghost (even though she's alive). When the song ends, you strike a final pose. The applause is chaotic. @@.samantha;"That was something, alright,"@@ Samantha says. @@.player;"Iconic?"@@ you offer. @@.samantha;"More like possibly traumatic,"@@ she replies. @@.samantha;"But yeah, it was unforgettable."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You stare at the karaoke remote for a long moment. The gym is buzzing around you. And then you do something no one expects. You type in Skibidi Toilet. Samantha's face falls. @@.samantha;"You wouldn't."@@ You would. The screen flashes and the music starts. You belt out @@.player;"Skibidi bop yes yes yes"@@ like it's the national anthem. The karaoke screen can barely keep up. The lyrics make no sense and the melody is unhinged, yet you go all in. You bounce. You make faces. You act like this is the most important song of your life. The crowd goes feral. Someone's laughing so hard they drop their soda. A few freshmen near the photo booth start chanting along. Samantha is in disbelief, hands over her mouth, crying from laughter. By the end, you've somehow summoned chaos itself. The mic crackles as you say the final @@.player;"Yes yes yes."@@ When you finish, the silence hangs for half a beat before the gym explodes in cheers and unhinged applause. Samantha grabs you by the arm when you walk back. @@.samantha;"You are absolutely not okay,"@@ she says, breathless from laughing. @@.samantha;"You just started the Skibidi Era."@@ You shrug, grinning. @@.player;"The people wanted art."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 5 - 11">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d5karaoke is false>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You shift your weight awkwardly, laughing off her suggestion with a wave of your hand. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm good,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"I'm stricly moral support."@@ Samantha lets out a dramatic sigh. @@.samantha;"Wow. Talk about cowardice in its purest form."@@ @@.player;"I like to think of it as self-preservation,"@@ you reply, grinning. She rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"You're lucky I already spent my energy up there or I'd drag you to that mic myself."@@ @@.player;"You can try, but I bite."@@ @@.samantha;"Yuck."@@ You both laugh. @@.samantha;"Alright, fine,"@@ she groans. @@.samantha;"You're off the hook for now. But next time, you're singing. No excuses."@@ @@.player;"We'll see,"@@ you say, knowng full well you'll do everything in your power to dodge it again. <<button "Continue" "Day 5 - 11">>\<<set $d5karaoke to false>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"You know what?"@@ you say, feeling a strange surge of confidence rush through you. @@.player;"Sure. I can sing."@@ Samantha's eyes widen with delighted shock. @@.samantha;"Wait, seriously? You're actually going up?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, shrugging. You do your best to play it cool even as your heartbeat starts picking up. @@.player;"Why not?"@@ The nearby students cheer as you step forward and take the mic. You scroll through the song list, fingers hesitating. What should you even sing? You //could// sing September by Earth, Wind & Fire. It's impossible not to smile when this song plays. It's a disco classic from way before your time, but it such a classic that it still works at every party. You might be able to pull it off. Take on Me by a-ha is also a classic. It's risky, you've seen enough people crash and burn on the high note. But maybe, just maybe, you could be the one to pull it off. The Princess of Pop has made a number of classics, but Toxic is iconic. It's seductive, chaotic, and a little unhinged, but in the fun way. You'd need to lean into it, really perform. Samantha would definitely laugh if you chose this, and maybe that's reason enough. And there's Skibidi Toilet. This song is... barely a song. More like an internet fever dream. It's a choice for chaos, and... kind of tempting. You take a breath and glance back at Samantha. She gives you two big thumbs up, mouthing @@.samantha;"Don't embarrass yourself."@@ You roll your eyes, then turn back to the screen. Time to pick your song. <<button "Sing September" "Day 5 - Karaoke 1">>\<<set $d5song to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D5_karaoke_song_choice" "september" "story">><</button>> <<button "Sing Take on Me" "Day 5 - Karaoke 1">>\<<set $d5song to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D5_karaoke_song_choice" "take on me" "story">><</button>> <<button "Sing Toxic" "Day 5 - Karaoke 1">>\<<set $d5song to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D5_karaoke_song_choice" "toxic" "story">><</button>> <<button "Sing Skibidi Toilet" "Day 5 - Karaoke 1">>\<<set $d5song to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D5_karaoke_song_choice" "skibidi toilet" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d5luke is 0>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You decide to keep things chill and do your best to match Luke's playful energy. You mimic his goofy dance moves, throwing in a crazy breakdancing move just for fun. There's honestly something comforting about how carefree your best friend is, so you roll with it. @@.luke;"There we go, $name,"@@ Luke says with a wide grin on his face. @@.luke;"Good job, we're seriously going to be legends after this."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, we are!"@@ you reply. You look around to see some amused glances from your peers, but that just makes you laugh harder. Your worries about how people might see you fade as you lose yourself in the moment. @@.luke;"Now presenting the kings of the dance floor!"@@ Luke says in an exaggerated tone, trying to imitate a narrator. He swings into a dramatic spin and stops in a weird pose, gesturing for you to follow suit. You try to do the same, but end up clumsily stumbling a little. You continue the playful back-and-forth, as the both of you build on the other's jokes. The dance moves get sillier and sillier until what you're doing is almost unrecognizable as a dance move. @@.player;"Damn, we're the best!"@@ you yell, the both of you radiating carefree energy. You attempt a dramatic dance move, but end up bumping into Luke. @@.luke;"Woah, careful!"@@ Luke says, stumbling a little. @@.luke;"Let's not get injured today."@@ You straighten yourself up, shaking your head at how ridiculous the whole thing has become. But the energy you and Luke have been giving off seems to be contagious, as other students begin joining in with some weird moves as well. By the time the song ends, the two of you are breathless from laughing so much. You feel lighter than you have in a while, and a smile is plastered on your face. @@.luke;"What did I say, huh?"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"I told you we'd be legends."@@ @@.player;"Legends of bad dancing, sure,"@@ you say. The two of you laugh as you leave the dance floor, having stolen the spotlight for a few minutes. As you walk away, some of your peers give you approving nods and high-fives, and you feel elated. <<elseif $d5luke is 1>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ As the music shifts into a slower, more intimate rhythm, you can't help but hesitate for a moment. You glance at Luke, who looks a bit awkward but smiles encouragingly. The atmosphere in the gym has shifted, the lights dimming slightly as couples around you begin to sway to the softer tune. You take a breath, deciding to close the distance between you and Luke. You step closer, your bodies now just a few inches apart. The proximity feels different, but not bad. Luke's eyes widen a little, but he doesn't pull away from you. There's just a quiet understanding between the two of you, an unspoken agreement to just go with the flow. @@.player;"Guess this is what we're doing now, huh?"@@ you chuckle nervously. @@.luke;"Hey, you're the one who wanted to dance closer,"@@ Luke replies. The music wraps around you, and for a moment, the world outside the two of you fades away. You feel the warmth radiating between you and Luke, and although it's a new feeling, it's one that's oddly comforting. You've known Luke for ages now, and there's something grounding about being here with him. As you sway to the rhythm, your movements are slower and more in sync with the mood of the song. Luke's hands rest on your shoulders, and you place your own hands around his waist. It's still a bit awkward, but you make it work. @@.luke;"Careful, $name,"@@ Luke teases. @@.luke;"I use my body for ramming into people, not dancing, so I might not be the best at dancing."@@ @@.player;"I'm not the best at dancing either,"@@ you laugh. @@.player;"Guess we're a disaster waiting to happen."@@ The awkwardness starts to disappear and everything starts to feel quite natural. It fully dissolves, and what remains is a sense of calm. You can feel the subtle rise and fall of his breath, his broad chest against yours, and the two of you just dance. You're fully engrossed in the moment, and right now, the only person in the world that matters is Luke. @@.luke;"You know, this isn't as bad as I thought it'd be,"@@ Luke says. @@.player;"It's really not,"@@ you whisper back. The song draws to a close, and the final notes of the melody hang in the air as you glance at Luke, who's grinning widely. Your eyes meet for a second, your brown eyes meeting his gray ones. You quickly glance away, your heart pounding and cheeks flushing. What was this feeling? You'd been friends with Luke for so long but you never felt this way around him before. @@.luke;"Not bad for two guys who can't dance,"@@ Luke chuckles. @@.luke;"If you think about it, we weren't a disaster waiting to happen."@@ @@.player;"We r-really weren't,"@@ you stumble over your words a little. You step apart as the song ends, and you feel breathless. Not from the dancing, but from the comforting experience of it all. The two of you exchange a brief but meaningful look before Luke gives you a friendly clap on the shoulder. The two of you walk off the dance floor, feeling very different than when you first stepped on it together. And although you hate to admit it, you wouldn't have minded having Luke's hands on your shoulders a little longer. <<elseif $d5luke is 2>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 3, 0, 100)>>\ As the song plays, you exchange a brief glance with Luke. Something familiar sparks, a sense of competition flickering between the two of you. @@.luke;"You're not going to let me show you up here, are you?"@@ Luke asks, a hint of a challenge in his voice. @@.player;"Only if you can keep up,"@@ you reply. Without missing a beat, Luke takes your hand, and you both step up your game. You begin mirroring each other's moves, each trying to outdo the other. Luke spins you around, but instead of stumbling, you spin right back. @@.luke;"Damn, not bad,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"But watch this."@@ Luke throws in an exaggerated twirl, pulling you back with a wide grin. You respond with your own quick footwork, stepping up the tempo. The two of you move in sync, but there's a clear edge of competition in each step and move, as both of you are unwilling to back down. @@.samantha;"Go, $name!"@@ Samantha cheers for you. @@.samantha;"Don't let Luke win."@@ You shoot her a quick smirk before refocusing on Luke. You playfully push him, nudging his shoulder lightly. Your laughter fills the air as you try to one-up him, and it's clear you're both having a blast. As the song reaches its climax, Luke pulls off a smooth move, dipping you unexpectedly. You're surprised, but unwilling to lose. You quickly recover, pushing yourself back up and spinning away in a flourish. @@.luke;"Not bad, $name,"@@ Luke chuckles. @@.player;"Come on, I clearly won that,"@@ you quip back. You both share a light-hearted laugh, feeling tired but exhilarated from the competition. The two of you exit the dance floor, and although neither of you will admit it, it is a tie. <<else>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 10, 0, 100)>>\ As the music plays and you sway awkwardly with Luke, an unexpected wave of self-consciousness washes over you. You become acutely aware of everything—the curious glances from your peers, the slight stiffness in Luke's movements, and the fact that you're a guy dancing with another guy. You can't shake the feeling that people are watching. Your thoughts begin to race, filled with uncertainty and doubt. @@.luke;"Hey, are you good?"@@ Luke asks, concerned after noticing the change in your body language. @@.player;"Yeah, but it just feels kind of weird, doesn't it?"@@ you try to force a chuckle but can't. @@.luke;"Not at all,"@@ Luke raises his eyebrows. @@.luke;"It's just a dance, who cares what other people think."@@ You appreciate the nonchalance he has, but it doesn't stop your heart from pounding. You try to focus on the music, but the sensation of being out of place lingers. You notice how stiffly you're moving compared to some of the other pairs. There's no fluidity to your steps, no rhythm in your movements. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you say, your voice trailing off. @@.luke;"We can just step this one out if you're not feeling it,"@@ Luke says, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. The two of you make your way off the dance floor early, a bit of awkwardness lingering. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 5 - 18">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $lukeRelo += 5>>\ @@.luke;"Come on, dude,"@@ Luke chuckles, playfully nudging you as he notices you staring at him. @@.luke;"Let's show everyone how it's done."@@ You can't even get a word out before Luke grabs your arm with just the right amount of strength. His grip is strong but not overwhelming, and you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. There's a nervous energy between you two, as you are both guys, but there's no denying the connection you two have. Luke, always confident, starts doing some silly dance moves. You laugh, watching him spin around and move his arms. It's clear he's not taking things too seriously. <<button "Keep it casual" "Day 5 - Luke 1">>\<<set $d5luke to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Dance a bit closer" "Day 5 - Luke 1">>\<<set $d5luke to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Get competitive" "Day 5 - Luke 1">>\<<set $d5luke to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Feel nervous" "Day 5 - Luke 1">>\<<set $d5luke to 3>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d5samantha is 0>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a deep breath, feeling the pulse of the music in the gym. You turn to Samantha, who's watching you with an expectant grin and a subtle challenge in her eyes. Samantha's always teased you about your hesitance and lack of confidence, but you decide to surprise her tonight. @@.player;"Alright, let's see if you can keep up,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"Oh?"@@ Samantha asks, her eyebrows shooting up. @@.samantha;"Mr. Yoon finally has some moves?"@@ Without another word, you hold out your hand. Samantha grasps it, her soft hand clasped in yours. You lead her onto the dance floor, gently pulling her close as the two of you find your rhythm. You guide the movements, making Samantha grin. @@.samantha;"Look at you, all in control."@@ You spin her with a flourish, your steps steady. You're surprised by yourself, you're not normally the type to take charge, especially on the dance floor. But something about this moment just feels right, like you have a perfect opportunity. Your nerves settle and you lean into the flow of the music, allowing your body to move naturally. You know you're in control, and there's a sense of fluidity in how you're leading. @@.player;"Hmm, maybe I've been holding back too much,"@@ you chuckle. @@.samantha;"Maybe you have!"@@ Samantha laughs, clearly impressed. @@.samantha;"Where's all this confidence coming from?"@@ Your bodies briefly brush as you dance, and your heart races. Not from nerves, but from the excitement of the moment. Right now, you're just having fun and enjoying the moment with Samantha. As the song reaches its final notes, you dip Samantha, causing her to giggle in delight. You hold the position for a second before she pushes herself back upright, and you can see just a hint of rose on her cheeks. For a few minutes, this dance made you feel like you were in your own little world. @@.samantha;"You seriously pulled that off, huh?"@@ Samantha asks. @@.player;"Maybe you've been underestimating me,"@@ you reply. The two of you make your way off the dance floor, but despite the crowd around you, you don't see anybody other than Samantha. <<elseif $d5samantha is 1>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ The music pulses softly, and as everyone begins to settle into pairs, Samantha flashes a grin at you. @@.samantha;"How about I lead this time?"@@ she asks. @@.player;"You know what, sure,"@@ you reply. You're not confident about your own dancing skills in the slightest, and Samantha's leading would take some of the pressure off you. @@.player;"You're probably better at this anyway."@@ Samantha steps in closer, taking charge with supreme confidence. She places her hand firmly on your waist and leads you into the rhythm of the song. Her movements are smooth and assertive, guiding you with a gentle tug here and a subtle nudge there. You stumble slightly at first, but Samantha keeps you steady. As she moves with you across the floor, gliding through the dance, she spins you around lightly. You can't help but laugh at how strange it feels to be led like this, but there's a strange and oddly enjoyable sensation in giving up control. @@.samantha;"I'm amazing, no?"@@ Samantha winks, and you can feel a little bit of tension leave your body. You remind yourself that Samantha is your best friend, and seeing her be her usual playful self helps you relax. @@.player;"You are amazing, Samantha,"@@ you laugh. As the dance progresses, Samantha continues to guide you through the music, occasionally adding a fancy move. You notice some of your peers around you, but you can't be bothered to care what they think. You're too focused on keeping up with Samantha's pace and enjoying the moment. Suddenly, Samantha pulls you closer, her voice dropping to a serious tone for just a second. @@.samantha;"You're doing really well, $name,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Sometimes, you just have to let go of everything and live in the moment."@@ You nod, unable to say anything. Her message resonates with you though, and you realize letting go isn't a bad thing. Maybe, just maybe, with everything going on, it would be okay to let someone else take control for a change. The music slows as the song nears its end, and Samantha is clearly pleased with the performance the two of you put on. @@.player;"Samantha, that was amazing,"@@ you say, exhilarated by the dance you shared with her. @@.samantha;"Sounds like a win to me,"@@ Samantha says. The both of you stand there for a moment, both a little breathless from the fun of it all. You realize that despite your initial hesitation, you feel lighter. As the two of you head off the dance floor, there's a sense of ease in your body that wasn't there before. <<elseif $d5samantha is 2>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ As the song takes on a softer, slower rhythm, you lock eyes with Samantha. There's a playful gleam in her gaze, the one she always has, but this time you feel something more intimate buried deep inside. You hesitate for just a moment, but the music, the way she smiles, and her green eyes urge you to step a little closer. You tighten your hold on her hand and draw her in, feeling the warmth of her body as you bridge the space between you and her. Samantha doesn't pull away though, instead letting out an amused breath. She wraps her free arm around your shoulder, resting her hand comfortably. @@.samantha;"Getting bold, huh?"@@ she giggles. @@.player;"Who knows, maybe I am getting bold,"@@ you reply. The tension in your shoulders slowly eases as you settle into the rhythm of the music. The close proximity between you two makes the dance feel more intimate, and you feel hyperaware of everything. The brush of her arm, the way your hands stay linked, and the way her dark hair falls softly against your cheek. Samantha's expression softens as you move, the teasing tone she always has fading into something more sincere. @@.samantha;"You're not bad at this, $name,"@@ she whispers. @@.samantha;"Maybe you've got more rhythm than you let on."@@ You feel your cheeks flush slightly, caught off guard by the compliment. Not quite knowing how to respond, you give her a small smile. @@.player;"Maybe I've been holding out on you."@@ You fall into a comfortable silence, the music and your gaze saying everything that needs to be said. You feel the closeness in every step, and it's different from how the two of you usually interact. Not in a bad way though. You let your thoughts drift, wondering how things might be changing between the two of you. There's something unspoken in the air, a quiet tension buzzing. @@.samantha;"This is kind of nice, don't you think?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, it is."@@ The two of you continue dancing, moving a little slower now, more in tune with each other. It's not as playful as before, but there's a sense of comfort in the closeness. As the song winds down, Samantha looks up at you with a small, knowing smile. When the music finally stops, she pulls back just slightly, but her hand lingers on your shoulder for a moment before she finally lets go. She doesn't say anything out loud, but you can sense there are unspoken words. The two of you leave the dance floor, feeling very different. <<else>>\ As the music sways through the gym, you feel a mix of excitement and nerves. Dancing with Samantha feels comfortable in some ways but it is definitely unfamiliar. You know Samantha well enough to know she'd probably lead the two of you into something wild or playful if you let her, but you just want to keep things simple tonight. You fall into step with the beat, and you choose not to take the lead or do anything bold. You just let the moment flow, keeping the dance easy and light. @@.samantha;"Aww, come on, $name,"@@ Samantha says with a playful smile on her face. @@.samantha;"I know you can do better than this."@@ @@.player;"What, are you saying my moves aren't good enough for you?"@@ you reply. @@.samantha;"I'm saying you've got potential that you're holding back on,"@@ she teases. The two of you continue bantering, the lighthearted teasing making the dance feel like just another fun moment between friends. Samantha occasionally adds some small flourish to her movements, but you keep things simple. You're just going to enjoy the moment without pushing it. The both of you laugh, the conversation flowing easily as you sway side by side. The comfortable rhythm helps you forget about the crowd, and for a few minutes, it's just the two of you. Best friends enjoying each other's company. As you make your way off the dance floor with her, you're glad that Samantha is your best friend. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 5 - 18">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo += 5>>\ @@.samantha;"So, are you gonna ask me, or do I have to do all the work?"@@ Samantha notices you staring at her and extends her hand dramatically, her eyes glinting with mischief. You can't help but laugh at her confidence, as Samantha's always been the one to take the lead when you hesitated. There's a beat before you take her hand, and you make your way onto the dance floor. The slow rhythm of the music sets the tone as you face each other. As the two of you begin to sway, Samantha keeps things light and playful. She starts humming along to the music, occasionally doing a dance move. <<button "Take the lead" "Day 5 - Samantha 1">>\<<set $d5samantha to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Let Samantha take the lead" "Day 5 - Samantha 1">>\<<set $d5samantha to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Dance closer" "Day 5 - Samantha 1">>\<<set $d5samantha to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Keep things light" "Day 5 - Samantha 1">>\<<set $d5samantha to 3>>\<</button>>

@@.luke;"How is this place even open?"@@ Luke says as the three of you walk into the cozy record store nestled in a corner of the town's shopping district. Its large windows let in the sunlight, which casts soft light on rows of vintage records and modern vinyl collections. @@.samantha;"No clue,"@@ Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"Maybe some ancient people still like vinyl."@@ @@.player;"Can't think of any other reason to come here,"@@ you murmur. @@.boy;"Vinyl has the best sound quality,"@@ an elderly voice says from behind. The three of you jump in surprise, swinging around to see an old man. He appears to be the owner of the shop. @@.boy;"Vinyl captures audio in analog form without any compression, so it sounds much better."@@ The three of you quickly murmur apologies, realizing the store owner heard everything you said. He chuckles and laughs it off though, clearly not concerned. He walks back to the front desk, fiddling with a guitar. @@.samantha;"You know, $name, you never told us what music you listen to,"@@ Samantha says, glancing over at you. @@.luke;"That's true, now that I think about it,"@@ Luke murmurs after thinking for a few seconds. @@.player;"I like a little bit of everything,"@@ you shrug. @@.samantha;"Still, you should choose a section for us to go to,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Just whatever genre fits your taste the best."@@ <<button "Go to the rock section" "Activity - Call 2">>\<<set $music to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Go to the indie section" "Activity - Call 2">>\<<set $music to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Go to the pop section" "Activity - Call 2">>\<<set $music to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Go to the hip hop section" "Activity - Call 2">>\<<set $music to 3>>\<</button>>

<<if $music is 0>>\ You move through the aisles of the record store, letting your fingers lightly graze the spines of vinyls. You make your way to the rock section, and notice several legendary album covers. Nestled in between The Rolling Stones and Pink Floyd is Led Zeppelin IV. You take the album out from the shelf, admiring the design. @@.samantha;"Boring!"@@ Samantha says, looking at the album you have in your hands. @@.samantha;"What is this, even? I've never seen this before."@@ @@.luke;"You're uncultured, Samantha,"@@ Luke rolls his eyes. @@.luke;"I don't even like rock but I know Led Zeppelin."@@ @@.samantha;"Led Zeppelin?"@@ Samantha furrows her eyebrows. @@.samantha;"Isn't that the group that made Smoke on the Water?"@@ @@.player;"No, that's Deep Purple,"@@ you say, a little disturbed about Samantha's lack of knowledge. @@.player;"Have you ever heard of Stairway to Heaven?"@@ @@.samantha;"I would be pissed if they made me go upstairs to reach heaven,"@@ Samantha laughs. @@.samantha;"Like, I just died. Give me a break."@@ @@.luke;"Ignore her,"@@ Luke can't help but chuckle. @@.samantha;"Hey, it's not my fault I don't know these bands from prehistoric times."@@ You share a knowing look with Luke, disappointment crossing both of your faces. <<elseif $music is 1>>\ You weave through the record store, eventually ending up in the indie section. The vibe of the store shifts, as even the decor in this section is different. There are posters of old underground bands plastered across the walls and handwritten staff recommendations. The records here aren't very mainstream, but that might be exactly why you're drawn to them. Your eyes scan over some well-loved indie staples—records from The Smiths, Joy Division, and The Velvet Underground are on the shelves. But one album in particular catches your attention: Doolittle by the Pixies. You slide it off the shelf, staring at the cover art. You know a few songs by the Pixies but never listened to a full album of theirs. You remember hearing that Doolittle was a very important part of indie rock history. @@.samantha;"What are you looking at?"@@ Samantha asks, peeking her head over your shoulder. She stares at the monkey on the album cover and giggles. @@.samantha;"Look, Puke, that's you."@@ @@.luke;"That is not me,"@@ Luke sighs and shakes his head. @@.luke;"I do have the strength of an ape though."@@ @@.samantha;"Too bad you have the brain of one too,"@@ Samantha sighs. <<elseif $music is 2>>\ You wander over to the pop section, where there are a ton of recent albums that you know of. Rows of popular records line the shelves, from classic pop acts like Michael Jackson to today's artists like Taylor Swift. There's a sense of familiarity since you've grown up listening to many of these artists. You end up picking up an album that was an essential part of your childhood, Doo-Wops & Hooligans by Bruno Mars. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, a good album!"@@ Samantha says, excited to see Bruno Mars. @@.samantha;"This section has albums I actually know."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, because you don't listen to anything other than what's charting,"@@ Luke rolls his eyes. @@.samantha;"I know some real underground stuff, alright?"@@ Samantha says, moving her hands around trying to be mysterious. @@.samantha;"For example, do you know of the Arctic Monkeys? I just found out about them a week ago."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, she's hopeless,"@@ Luke says, shaking his head. @@.samantha;"They're pretty unknown,"@@ Samantha crosses her arms. @@.samantha;"They only have 40 million monthly listeners on Spotify."@@ You share a knowing look with Luke, disappointment crossing both of your faces. <<else>>\ You end up in the hip-hop section, and you can feel a raw energy buzzing in the air. The passion of the artists shines through the striking album covers. You glance over the selection, noting some of the biggest names in hip-hop. Nas, Kanye, Tupac, and Biggie all line the shelves. Your eyes end up settling on Good Kid, M.A.A.D City though, an album that you're a little familiar with. You know it has a great concept, with an intense and engaging story. @@.luke;"Ooh, that's a classic,"@@ Luke says, his eyes filled with approval. @@.luke;"I really like Kendrick and this is, in my opinion, his best album."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh my God, that's the guy who feuded with Drake?"@@ Samantha asks, picking up on Kendrick Lamar's name. @@.luke;"You didn't know?"@@ Luke asks. @@.samantha;"I listened to the diss track but that's it,"@@ Samantha shrugs, clearly not too interested in Kendrick's artistry. You share a knowing look with Luke, disappointment crossing both of your faces. <</if>>\ @@.luke;"Anyway, we can't buy anything,"@@ Luke says, shrugging. @@.luke;"That is unless you have a record player at home."@@ @@.player;"Aw, okay,"@@ you say, putting the vinyl back on the shelf. You end up leaving with your hands empty, feeling a little bad that you didn't buy anything. If you had a record player, you totally would've bought an album. <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

<<set $d6option1 to true>>\ <<set $d6activities += 1>>\ You decide to spend the day with your two best friends, Luke and Samantha. You call on the group chat, and they quickly pick up. @@.luke;"Hey, $name, what's up?"@@ Luke asks. @@.samantha;"Yeah, why'd you call?"@@ Samantha's familiar voice says over the speaker. @@.player;"Do you guys want to hang out real quick?"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's the weekend, you know?"@@ You quickly make plans and end up meeting up at the town square. You start making your way toward the Cedarbrook town square when you smell the aroma of meat. You speed up, and after a minute, make your way to the town square. You spot that a few food trucks have set up for the weekend, and a bunch of meat is being cooked. You look around the benches to see Luke lounging on a bench and Samantha waving you over. @@.samantha;"Finally, took you long enough,"@@ Samantha grins as you approach. @@.samantha;"How are you going to plan the hangout and show up late?"@@ @@.luke;"He was probably staring at the mirror,"@@ Luke snorts, putting his phone away. @@.luke;"You've been doing that a lot lately, $name."@@ <<if $friendsKnow is true>>\ @@.player;"You know why,"@@ you say, rolling your eyes. You're surprised that even Luke noticed that you've been staring in the mirror more lately. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I have my reasons,"@@ you say, a little nervous. Even Luke noticed that you've been staring in the mirror more lately. <</if>>\ @@.samantha;"Anyway, let's get some food!"@@ Samantha looks around at the assortment of food trucks. @@.samantha;"Well, maybe just a snack for you, Puke. Can't get fat now, can you?"@@ @@.luke;"I'm the most athletic person here and I eat double what you eat,"@@ Luke laughs, clearly not taking Samantha's comment seriously. Luke picks up a massive BBQ burger, Samantha a burrito, and you get a taco plate with a mix of flavors. You guys settle back on the bench, paper plates in your hands. @@.samantha;"So, how was the first week of school, everyone?"@@ Samantha asks, trying to spark a conversation. @@.luke;"It would've been good if I didn't embarrass myself in gym class,"@@ Luke sighs and shakes his head. @@.luke;"I got someone else's gym kit by accident."@@ @@.samantha;"Hold up, what?"@@ @@.luke;"I accidentally took someone else's gym clothes and didn't even notice,"@@ Luke chuckles to himself. @@.luke;"I was like, why the fuck are these so tight today? I thought I grew bigger over the summer or something. Turns out I just took the gym kit of someone three inches shorter than me."@@ @@.player;"You're stupid,"@@ you can't help but laugh, and Samantha joins in. @@.luke;"That's not even the worst part,"@@ Luke holds up a finger. @@.luke;"The guy whose gym kit I stole came out with my gym kit on because he couldn't find his."@@ @@.samantha;"Dumb and dumber, huh?"@@ Samantha asks, snorting. @@.luke;"Maybe,"@@ Luke shrugs. As the three of you finish up your meals, you throw away the plates and make your way toward a record store. <<button "Check out the record store" "Activity - Call 1">><</button>>

You steady your hand on the joystick, glancing at the colorful array of prizes glimmering under the arcade lights. Each one seems to call out to you, but you already know which one you want. <<if $temp is 0>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ Your eyes land on an adorable kitten keychain. Its gray fur, oversized head, and big eyes make it irresistible. You can already imagine it dangling from your backpack as you walk through your school's hallways. You take a deep breath and adjust the joystick. Once the kitten lines up with the claw, you tap the big red button, letting the claw drop. The claw closes around the keychain, but just as it's about to rise, it slips. The kitten tumbles away, and you let out a disappointed sigh. <<elseif $temp is 1>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ Your gaze shifts to the mini basketball, and you feel a surge of excitement. You can already imagine it dangling from your backpack as you walk through your school's hallways. You carefully maneuver the claw, aiming it just right. With a quick press, the claw drops, but you're completely off. The claw grabs at the air, and you're left with nothing. You chuckle at the missed opportunity. <<else>>\ Your attention is caught by the glow-in-the-dark alien. It's mysterious and a bit quirky, exactly what you wanted. You can imagine it perched on your desk, glowing slightly green when the lights go out. You take aim with the joystick, moving the claw over the little alien. With a surge of confidence, you press the button and watch as the claw descends. Just as you think you've got it, the claw suddenly weakens and drops the alien. You laugh, a little frustrated by how the claw suddenly lost power. <</if>>\ You step back from the machine, and although you didn't win a prize this time, you're still left smiling. The joy of the challenge and the chance to escape into nostalgia is something you hadn't anticipated to win today. <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

You step into the retro arcade and are greeted by the beeping of pinball machines and bright neon lights. The space is brimming with energy, and packed with teens, families, and even adults. The walls are lined with some classic games, Pac-Man, Galaga, and more. You can't help but feel nostalgic for an era you never even experienced. You look around the place, just exploring. You didn't particularly want to spend any money today, especially when you could play all the video games you wanted at home. You eventually stumble across a claw machine, gleaming with a collection of prizes on display. Inside the glass box, a ton of stuffed animals, keychains, and other small treasures lie in a pile. You study the machine, wondering if you should spend some money. @@.boy;"Hey, kid,"@@ you hear an older voice say. You swing around to see an older guy with his family. He tosses you a quarter and flashes a toothy grin. @@.boy;"Go on ahead, give it a try."@@ @@.player;"O-Oh, thank you,"@@ you stutter out surprised by his generosity. You pop the quarter into the machine and grip the joystick, wondering what you should target. <<button "A plush kitten keychain" "Activity - Explore Arcade 1">>\<<set $temp to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "A mini basketball keychain" "Activity - Explore Arcade 1">>\<<set $temp to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "An alien figurine" "Activity - Explore Arcade 1">>\<<set $temp to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $temp is 0>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"What's got you so hooked?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow as you glance at the book in Vincent's hands. @@.player;"It must be a good one if you're reading it early on the weekend."@@ @@.vincent;"Oh, it's this amazing sci-fi novel about astronauts who get lost in a multiverse,"@@ Vincent beamed, his face brightening. He turns the book toward you, showing you the title, The Stars Beyond. @@.vincent;"It's not just action and fights — it really does go a lot deeper than that. The synopsis is that each multiverse they explore reflects something about the crew's own personalities! They're basically exploring different versions of themselves each time they go to another dimension."@@ @@.player;"Huh, sounds like it messes with your head a little,"@@ you nod, intrigued by how Vincent is describing the book. @@.player;"I didn't realize sci-fi could get that philosophical."@@ @@.vincent;"Well, science fiction is one of those genres that can really explore a lot,"@@ Vincent replies, a sparkle in his eyes. @@.vincent;"There's this one chapter where the main character is literally staring at a version of herself in a world where she made different choices. She ended up with a different career, relationships, and has a totally different life. It really is haunting if you think about it because it makes her question if she'd be happier that way. I'll stop rambling, but it really makes you think about who you could've been."@@ @@.player;"No, don't worry,"@@ you say, trying to soothe Vincent as he looks embarrassed. @@.player;"That sounds really cool, thanks for letting me know."@@ @@.vincent;"I really love that about sci-fi,"@@ Vincent sheepishly grins. @@.vincent;"Most people think it's just about the technology and the adventure, but it's really not! It's about exploring who we are and the paths we didn't take. Thanks for letting me yap, I love talking about this kind of stuff."@@ <<elseif $temp is 1>>\ @@.player;"So, I'm starting to think you've got a bit of a book addiction, Vincent,"@@ you say as you lean in with a smirk. @@.player;"How many have you read this month? Fifteen? Twenty? Maybe one every day?"@@ @@.vincent;"Oh, come on!"@@ Vincent laughs, his cheeks faintly turning red. @@.vincent;"It's not an addiction. I just really enjoy reading."@@ @@.player;"I see you with a book every time I spot you at school,"@@ you chuckle, unconvinced by Vincent's rebuttal. @@.player;"At this rate, you're going to end up becoming a librarian."@@ @@.vincent;"What's wrong with that, exactly?"@@ Vincent chuckles, hugging the book to his chest. @@.vincent;"At least I'll be well-read. On the other hand, you'll be clueless about all the amazing worlds out there."@@ @@.player;"Is that your goal?"@@ you tease, crossing your arms. @@.player;"To be the most well-read guy in the city?"@@ <<if $hobby is 0>>\ @@.vincent;"Knowledge is power,"@@ Vincent smirks. @@.vincent;"I know you like reading too! Don't tease me for it."@@ @@.player;"It's just funny to tease you about,"@@ you chuckle. @@.player;"But I don't read nearly as much as you do."@@ <<else>>\ @@.vincent;"Knowledge is power,"@@ Vincent smirks. @@.vincent;"Maybe one day I'll convince you to pick up a book too! That would be nice."@@ @@.player;"One of these days, you might just be able to convince me to,"@@ you feign a dramatic sigh. @@.player;"But today is not that day."@@ <</if>>\ @@.vincent;"You know, if I'm the city's unofficial librarian, you'll have to keep coming back for updates on the latest books."@@ @@.player;"I can't promise anything, but I'll try,"@@ you smile. <<else>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"So, do you come here a lot?"@@ you ask, glancing around the cozy space. @@.player;"Like, to Chapter & Page, I mean."@@ @@.vincent;"I do, it's kind of my go-to place whenever I'm bored,"@@ Vincent chuckles. @@.vincent;"I mean, it's close enough to walk to, and they have a lot of nice books. Plus, the owners always bring in interesting new titles."@@ @@.player;"I can see the appeal,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"It seems like a nice place to be."@@ @@.vincent;"I know, right?"@@ Vincent's eyes light up as he talks about the shop. @@.vincent;"Not to mention, they actually care about books here. It's not just another boring bookstore opened by a corporation."@@ @@.player;"Oh, are you a regular?"@@ you ask, intrigued. @@.player;"Do you know the owners?"@@ @@.vincent;"Of course, they're Mr. Patel and Mrs. Patel,"@@ Vincent smiles. @@.vincent;"Mr. Patel's really into sci-fi and fantasy, and he's always giving me recommendations after I blaze through a book. Matter of fact, he's the one who recommended me the book I'm reading right now."@@ @@.player;"This sounds like a nice place to hang out,"@@ you can't help but smile too at Vincent's enthusiasm. @@.player;"You have a spot that's just yours here."@@ @@.vincent;"Exactly! If you ever need a break from everything, this place is always welcoming. Give it a shot sometime."@@ <</if>>\ As you continue the conversation, you two have a lot of fun talking. The conversation naturally winds down after a while, and Vincent looks back at his book. it seems like he's caught between continuing the conversation and going back to his book. @@.vincent;"Well, I should probably get back to this,"@@ Vincent raises his book slightly. @@.vincent;"But it was really cool running into you today. I don't usually get to chat with anyone."@@ @@.player;"Same here, I wasn't expecting to run into you today,"@@ you feel the warmth of his sincerity. @@.player;"Maybe I'll catch you around again,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I could use a few recommendations myself."@@ @@.vincent;"I'll keep an eye out for you,"@@ he promises. @@.vincent;"If you ever need a book recommendation, you know who to come to. I have a few hundred stored up."@@ @@.player;"I'll remember that,"@@ you say. You wave and head off, exiting the bookstore. As you walk away, you realize you wouldn't mind running into Vincent here again sometime soon. <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

You step into Chapter & Page, and take the time to breathe in the warm scent of old paper and ink. Soft jazz music plays overhead and the dim lighting creates an amazing atmosphere. Shelves filled with books line the walls, and although this bookstore is known for its selection of trending books, it still has a little of everything. A few readers sit in chairs or on the floor, completely engrossed in the words on the pages. As you browse the shelves, your gaze lands on Vincent, who's seated on a cushy chair near the back. Vincent's face is very expressive as he flips through a book with a spaceship on the cover. Sometimes, there's a subtle crease on his brow. Other times, you see a soft smile on his face. You watch until he finally looks up, noticing you. @@.vincent;"Oh, $name!"@@ Vincent exclaims, setting his book down and giving you his undivided attention. @@.vincent;"I didn't expect to see you here. I thought I was the only one who spent their Saturdays in a bookstore."@@ <<button "Ask Vincent what he's reading" "Activity - Explore Bookstore 1">>\<<set $temp to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Lightly tease him" "Activity - Explore Bookstore 1">>\<<set $temp to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask if he comes here often" "Activity - Explore Bookstore 1">>\<<set $temp to 2>>\<</button>>

You step into Sycamore Park, a small slice of nature nestled in the middle of the busy city. Trees arch over the many trails, casting shadows on the grass below. The air smells of fresh earth, grass, and flowers. A pond shimmers up ahead as well, ducks and water lilies floating on the surface. It's a perfect little snapshot of nature, and you're glad you decided to come here today. You feel calm. You decide to relax by the pond, drawn by the gentle rippling of the water. You sit a few feet from the edge and stretch your legs out, basking in the sun. As you sit there, you spot a duck and her ducklings appear. A small smile spreads on your face as you watch the balls of fluff trailing behind their mother. You close your eyes after they pass, letting the sounds of the park wash over you. You end up appreciating the things you would usually never even think of. Even the steady hum of a bee seems profound. For a moment, you're not thinking about school, your friends, or even the curse! It's just nature, and the quiet joy of it all is a nice reprieve from everything you've been going through. After a while, you realize the sun has shifted higher in the sky. You sigh and stand up, stretching your arms up high. You feel lighter now, more relaxed. With a final look at the pond, you head back. <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

<<set $art to Math.clamp($art + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d6memory is 0>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You tap your pencil against the sketchbook as you recount a time from your childhood—a simpler time before everything got so complicated. A vivid memory of you playing dress-up with your sister, Lily, comes to mind. Your mom had dragged down an old box filled with a bunch of old clothes from the basement, and the thing was basically a treasure chest for you. With each outfit change, you'd become a different character. Superheroes, fantasy characters, and aliens were all within the realm of imagination. You remember at one point, you found a dress that was just your size. It fit perfectly, and you soon were lost in the folds of an elegant, flowing dress. You turned this way and that, admiring how the dress shifted and shimmered. The fabric brushed against your skin in a way that none of your boring male clothes had. In the sketch, you draw yourself gazing into the mirror, a wide-eyed expression on your young face. You try to capture the moment the best you can, the sense of awe you felt when you stared at your reflection. It felt both familiar and foreign like you were seeing a piece of yourself you hadn't quite met yet. The memory brings a pang of nostalgia, as well as a faint ache deep inside of you that you can't quite place. As you finish the drawing, you sit back and study it. The image stirs a quiet realization within you, but you can't quite articulate it. There's a spark there, a connection that you hadn't noticed as a kid. @@.girl;"That's really beautiful,"@@ Ms. Harper says, glancing over your shoulder. Her expressions soften as she sees your art. @@.girl;"It seems like a very special memory."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you nod. You're not sure what this memory means for now, but it lingers, leaving you with some questions that you're not sure you want answered. <<elseif $d6memory is 1>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You stare at the blank page in front of you, remembering your younger days when you used to play soccer. You spent countless hours on the soccer field, hair drenched in sweat and cleats scuffing against the grass. The thrill of the competition fills your memory as you pick up a pencil and begin to bring it to life. Steadying your hand the best you can, you start to sketch a scene from a match. You draw yourself in your old soccer uniform, charging toward the ball with determination. The small details that faded away with time come back to you as well, and you remember the dirt on your knees, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and the pride that rushed through you when you scored a goal. Soccer had been one of the few things that made you feel powerful and confident, almost invincible. It was a time before all the complicated feelings you deal with now. As you finish the drawing, your gaze lingers on your younger self. There's a sense of nostalgia, a bittersweet longing for those carefree days. @@.girl;"It looks like you captured the spirit of a fighter,"@@ she nods approvingly. @@.girl;"Soccer seems to mean a lot to you."@@ @@.player;"It used to, yeah,"@@ you reply, managing a small smile. <<else>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Memories of your family camping trip come flooding back into your mind. You remember the summer when your family had packed up a rented RV with camping gear and supplies, and heading out into the woods. It was one of those rare times they'd all been together without work, school, or anything else getting in the way. Just nature and each other's company. You begin sketching the towering pine trees that had surrounded the campsite, remembering how they seemed to stretch up endlessly. You begin to remember the chilly morning air, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot, and the sunrise reflecting on the nearby lake's surface. You add detail to the sketch, remembering how your dad showed you how to set up the tent. Your mom laughed as you fumbled through starting a fire, with Lily not helping at all. You finally decide on a moment to capture, putting the four of you by the campfire. You add a faint smile to your sketched self, sitting by the fire and looking at your family. That moment feels safe, like a memory frozen in time. You step back to view the finished sketch, and you realize just how grounding that trip had been. It was a time you felt connected. Surrounded by those you cared about. Moments like that felt increasingly harder to come by, and you felt a newfound appreciation for your family. @@.girl;"That's a beautiful memory,"@@ Ms. Harper leans over to take a look, her eyes warm with approval. @@.girl;"It's clear you put a lot of yourself into it."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, that was a good time,"@@ you nod. <</if>>\ You hold the piece of paper in your hands and feel a swirl of emotions—nostalgia, curiosity, and perhaps a hint of longing. You feel like you truly captured a piece of yourself on the paper. You look at Ms. Harper, who gives you an encouraging smile. @@.girl;"You're more of an artist than you give yourself credit for,"@@ she says, her eyes filled with understanding. @@.girl;"That art you created, that moment you drew, it's a reflection of who you are. Art has a funny way of bringing out things we didn't even know we had inside of us."@@ You smile, feeling oddly proud. Your sketch is rough around the edges, sure, but you think you did pretty well for the first attempt. @@.player;"Thank you, I didn't really think about it like that."@@ @@.girl;"Look, try and keep at it,"@@ Ms. Harper says. @@.girl;"You'll be surprised at what you discover."@@ You step out of the studio, feeling a sense of satisfaction. <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

<<set $metHarper to true>>\ As you step into the art studio, you're greeted by the scent of paint and varnish. The room is spacious, filled with natural light streaming through large windows that overlook the bustling street outside. The shelves are lined with paints, brushes, pencils, and sketchbooks. The place is slightly messy, but only in a way that inspires creativity. The sound of brushes against canvases and quiet chatter between artists fills the air, as everyone pursues their own art. It's a stark contrast to the mall, where everything was entrenched in chaos. You take a deep breath and gather your thoughts, suddenly spotting a figure at the back of the room. A woman in her late twenties with blue hair and a bunch of piercings on her ears is animatedly discussing color theory with some artists. You can't help but be drawn to her energy, and you awkwardly stand around until she finishes her discussion. She notices you glancing at her and comes over. @@.girl;"Hey there!"@@ she introduces herself, extending a hand. @@.girl;"I'm Ms. Harper, the studio's resident art mentor. You look like you're ready to create something amazing! Are you new here?"@@ @@.player;"Yes, I've never had much to do with art before,"@@ you nod, feeling a little shy. @@.girl;"That's totally okay!"@@ her eyes sparkle with excitement, clearly glad to see a new member. @@.girl;"Art is all about exploring and expressing yourself. You don't need any prior experience to get started. Just grab a piece of paper and a pencil and let your imagination run wild!"@@ Your nerves ease a little, and you feel inspired to explore your thoughts and memories through art. You pick up a pencil and grab a sheet of paper, sitting down in an isolated corner of the room. Ms. Harper gives you a few pointers on basic technique, although she makes sure to emphasize to create something that resonates with you. After she leaves, you absorb all the advice she gave you. You consider your past and what you'd like to express on that piece of paper in front of you. <<button "A childhood memory of playing dress-up" "Activity - Explore Studio 1">>\<<set $d6memory to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "A reflection of your soccer days" "Activity - Explore Studio 1">>\<<set $d6memory to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "The family camping trip" "Activity - Explore Studio 1">>\<<set $d6memory to 2>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/city-streets.png"> <<set $d6option to true>>\ <<set $d6activities += 1>>\ You step out onto the city streets of Cedarbrook, and you shield your eyes as the bright California sun shines down on you. The air is tinged with the faint smell of coffee and baked goods, and cars roll lazily down the street. You take in the scene, enjoying the comforting familiarity your city offers. You look around, trying to decide where you should go. Nestled on a quieter street, there's an inviting little bookstore known for its selection of popular novels. It's a little messy, but in a charming way, with a faded wooded sign reading Chapter & Page. If you walk a little though, you can make your way to Sycamore Park. It's full of lush green, and there are a bunch of trees, ponds, cute critters, and an expansive walking trail. It's a really popular spot for people to hang out on the weekend, and you haven't gone in a while. Just down the street, the colorful arcade also draws your attention. The air near Pixel Palace is thick with whooping, the sound of 8-bit music, and the furious clicking of buttons. You could dive into a quick game to blow off the stress of the first week of school. Your final option would be to go behind the main strip to a small community art studio called Creative Corner. You haven't ever gone there before, the best you could draw was a stick figure, but you could take some time to sketch something. <<button "Go to the bookstore" "Activity - Explore Bookstore">><</button>> <<button "Go to the park" "Activity - Explore Park">><</button>> <<button "Go to the arcade" "Activity - Explore Arcade">><</button>> <<button "Go to the art studio" "Activity - Explore Studio">><</button>>

You approach Aurora by the massive oak tree, and you're confused about how you feel. A part of you is a little excited to find out more about the curse, but another part of you feels some unease. This part of the park is quiet, with only the sounds of a light breeze rustling the leaves and the faint ripple of water from the nearby pond. Aurora stands there, arms crossed, looking like she didn't have a care in the world. She looked as if she belonged among the shadows and secrets. @@.aurora;"You showed up,"@@ she says, her tone calm but a little impressed. @@.aurora;"A lot, dare I say most, would have stayed away."@@ @@.player;"Guess I'm not most people,"@@ you force a nervous smirk on your face. Aurora nods her head, her expression unreadable. @@.aurora;"Good. Because this isn't something just anyone can handle. That spell you're dealing with..."@@ @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you ask, nervous as she trails off. @@.aurora;"It's not just something simple, it's like a mirror. It reflects off what you carry inside, and it'll change with each choice you make."@@ @@.player;"So you're saying these changes are based on who I am?"@@ you tilt your head, confused. @@.aurora;"You're exactly right, $name,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"And who you're becoming, whether you like it or not. It's a deeply personal kind of magic, it's bound to your sense of self. Every time you give in, push back, or try to hide, it'll know. The more you understand yourself, the more control you'll gain over what's happening."@@ @@.player;"So, if I start making choices based on who I want to be, it'll affect the changes?"@@ @@.aurora;"Yes, but the deeper you go, the harder it'll be to turn back"@@ she replies, looking over you to gauge your reaction. @@.aurora;"I can help you gain some control over it if you're ready."@@ You swallow, feeling a lump in your throat. You can sense the importance of her words, the sheer gravity of it. Although your choices feel like they carry an extra weight now, you don't want to miss this opportunity for help. <<button "Open up about your transformation" "Activity - Find 2 (Open)">><<trackChoice "D6_tell_aurora" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Stay closed about your transformation" "Activity - Find 2 (Closed)">><<trackChoice "D6_tell_aurora" false "story">><</button>>

@@.player;"I don't want to talk about it,"@@ you say, hesitating to tell Aurora anything. Her gaze is heavy on you as you feel a rush of conflicting emotions. Opening up about the transformations and the curse feels too scary like it makes you too vulnerable. You're not ready to face it just yet. You decide to keep your feelings locked away, at least for now. @@.aurora;"I get it can be tough to navigate these changes, especially when they feel overwhelming,"@@ Aurora says, her gaze studying you. @@.aurora;"I'm here if you need to talk about it with someone. After all, didn't you come here to learn more about the spell?"@@ @@.player;"I mean, I guess,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"But I'm not ready to talk about it. Not yet, anyway."@@ @@.aurora;"That's fair,"@@ she nods slowly. @@.aurora;"Just remember, sometimes facing things head-on is the best way to move forward. The more you resist, the harder it might become. But there's no pressure, of course. When you're ready, you'll know."@@ Feeling the weight of her words, you shift your gaze. @@.player;"I'll keep that in mind."@@ <<button "Go home" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

<<if $acceptance > 4>>\ @@.player;"It's a little strange,"@@ you whisper, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. @@.player;"I've been beginning to accept the changes as they happen. It felt weird at first, but then I started liking them. I'd catch myself in the mirror, and it was like seeing someone familiar but different. It felt right, and I'd never felt that way about my reflection before."@@ @@.aurora;"I see,"@@ she says, her eyes softening in understanding. @@.aurora;"Sometimes, magic shows us parts of ourselves we've ignored or buried. It doesn't have to make sense to anyone but you, to be honest."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Look, this whole thing is really messed up,"@@ you cross your arms, an edge to your voice. @@.player;"I don't want these changes, and I'm trying to resist."@@ @@.aurora;"I see,"@@ she says, nodding slightly as she thinks. @@.aurora;"I can't help you break the curse, but I think the more you fight this curse, the stronger it'll push back."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"I guess that's true,"@@ you murmur. <<set $d6auroraTalk to true>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 29>>\ <<set $upperControl to true>>\ <<grantAchievement "EarlyAurora">>\ @@.aurora;"It seems you've gone through quite a number of changes, huh?"@@ Aurora asks, eyeing you up and down. @@.player;"Kind of,"@@ you chuckle awkwardly. You knew you looked considerably different now, but it was still awkward to have it be pointed out. @@.player;"Is that an issue?"@@ @@.aurora;"No, not at all,"@@ Aurora shakes her head. @@.aurora;"You actually had to go through these changes in order for me to give you more control over the spell."@@ @@.player;"So, what do I have to do?"@@ you ask after a few awkward moments of silence. @@.aurora;"Nothing at all, everything's already done"@@ a faint smile on her lips. @@.aurora;"Next time you transform, try directing the energy toward your body."@@ <<else>>\ @@.aurora;"I don't think you've gone through enough changes yet for me to introduce you to more,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"I can help you expand your control over the spell so that you can change your upper body as well. But not yet."@@ @@.player;"Not yet?"@@ you ask, raising your eyebrows. @@.aurora;"Not yet,"@@ she says, shaking her head. @@.aurora;"You still have to go through some more changes. I'll be here ready to help you gain more control over the spell once you've done that."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Oh, okay,"@@ you say, turning around and getting ready to go back home. Before you start walking though, you look over your shoulder to glance at Aurora one more time. @@.player;"Oh, and thank you Aurora."@@ <<button "Go home" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>> <<button "Go back and ask Aurora how she knows all this" "Activity - Find 3">><</button>>

<<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $auroraOffer to true>>\ @@.player;"Wait, wait!"@@ you shout, catching up to Aurora. You put your hands on your knees and take a few seconds to catch your breath. @@.player;"I forgot to ask this question. Seriously, how do you know all this?"@@ @@.aurora;"The world isn't always what it seems, $name,"@@ she says, her lips curling into a slight smile. @@.aurora;"Most people are only aware of what's right in front of them. But there's so much more moving beneath the surface, things you couldn't even dream about."@@ @@.player;"I see,"@@ you nod unconvincingly, unsure of what Aurora is saying. @@.aurora;"I started learning about it when I was younger,"@@ Aurora continues. @@.aurora;"I always had a knack for... seeing things others couldn't. My family thought it was just a phase, a young girl's fascination with the occult. But I just knew there was something real about it. So I started doing my own studies on the topic."@@ @@.player;"Your own studies?"@@ you ask in a soft whisper. @@.aurora;"I've read texts, practiced rituals, and even met people like Madame Serena who understand more than I do,"@@ Aurora looks at you, her eyes filled with a burning intensity. @@.aurora;"Magic is real, $name. It's not the kind of magic you see in movies, with a bunch of wizards and flashy spells, but it's real enough. It's about channeling energy, understanding intention, and unlocking parts of yourself you didn't know were there. I could notice your energy was off as if it was affected by magic. That's how I figured out about your spell."@@ @@.player;"I mean, I knew magic was real, but hearing it like this..."@@ you trail off, not quite knowing what to say. @@.aurora;"You know, I could teach you,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"It won't be easy, and I'm not sure if you even want to learn. But if you're willing, I could help you navigate this transformation. Help you understand and control it."@@ @@.player;"But why?"@@ you ask, your head whirling from the overload of information that was just introduced to you. The idea of learning magic is enticing, but the enormity of it all scares you. @@.aurora;"I don't know, to be honest,"@@ she laughs softly. @@.aurora;"When I started down this path, I was all alone. Nobody believes in magic, even at school everyone thinks I'm just weird. I want to help others that are interested in this, that's why I'm the leader of the occult club. Maybe I just want to give someone else a chance to walk this road, but without the confusion I had to go through."@@ For a moment, the two of you stand in silence, the breeze rustling the trees around you. As your eyes meet hers, there's an openness there you hadn't seen before. A genuine offer of support. @@.player;"T-Thank you, I don't know what to say,"@@ you stutter out. @@.aurora;"I know you're not ready to give me an answer, not yet at least,"@@ she murmurs. @@.aurora;"But when you're ready, you know where to find me."@@ <<button "Go home" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

<<set $d6option4 to true>>\ <<set $d6activities += 1>>\ You spend some time mulling over Aurora's cryptic words from the mall. You can't shake the feeling that she genuinely knows something about what you're going through. She did have knowledge about the curse, after all. You think about finding her, but you realize the simpler solution would be to just shoot her a message. It was 2024, after all. @eyoon06: @@.player;Hey Aurora. its $name. I think I'm ready for some real answers... Can we meet up?@@ You're about to put your phone down, but you realize Aurora has responded already. @mystic_aurora: @@.aurora;Meet me at Sycamore Park near the big oak tree by the pond. Make sure you're ready for what I have to say.@@ You feel some apprehension as you slide your phone into your pocket. You know the tree she's referring too, it's near one of the quieter areas of the park, and it was usually undisturbed as people rarely went there. The tree was an old, twisted oak tree that loomed over the pond like a guardian. It was so spooky that you and your sister used to dare each other to go near it. You shake your head, trying to shake the scary thoughts, and go outside. <<button "Go to the park" "Activity - Find 1">><</button>>

You look around the sleek, modern gym. There are rows of treadmills and ellipticals facing windows that let in a flood of natural light. There's also a free weights section, some stationary bikes off to the side, and even some special areas for workouts like yoga. You can't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness. It's not like you went to the gym often, and the sheer number of options is a little overwhelming. You eventually decide on something though. <<button "Head to the cardio machines" "Activity - Gym Cardio">><</button>> <<button "Head to the free weights" "Activity - Gym Weights">><</button>> <<button "Head to the yoga class" "Activity - Gym Yoga">><</button>>

After finishing up at the gym, you feel both exhausted and invigorated. The post-exercise endorphins have been released in your brain. As you head to the restroom, the faint sound of upbeat music still plays overhead, blending in with the hum of conversation. You wash your hands with soap, making sure to get all the grime off your hands. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and can't help but smile. There's something satisfying about the sweat on your brow, proof of the effort you put in today. You feel more present in your body than you have in a long while. You leave the gym and head back home, humming on the way. <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

<<if $d6jessica is 0>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"You know, you're really dedicated, I'm impressed,"@@ you look over at Jessica with a sheepish grin on your face. @@.player;"I guess that's how the head cheerleader stays on top."@@ @@.jessica;"What can I say?"@@ Jessica smirks, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. @@.jessica;"Cheerleading is tougher than people think, and I've got to keep up with everyone. I can't let them outshine me."@@ @@.player;"I can understand why everyone likes you,"@@ you nod, feeling the passion exuding from her voice. @@.player;"You seem really put together."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ Jessica says, looking at the floor for a second. Her shoulders slump, and the confidence you saw from her just a few seconds ago seems to be gone. She bounces back though, looking up at you with a smile. @@.jessica;"Careful though, $name. Keep talking like that and people might think you're trying to win me over."@@ @@.player;"Hey!"@@ you can't help but blush slightly. @@.player;"I'm just calling it as I see it, alright? It's impressive, that's all."@@ @@.jessica;"Thanks, I appreciate it,"@@ she says, glancing at you with something that feels almost like gratitude. She seems more genuine. @@.jessica;"I don't get to hear that as much as you might think."@@ The two of you share a brief pause before Jessica raises her water bottle. @@.jessica;"I hope I'll see you around here more often. I have to get back to my workout."@@ @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you shrug. @@.player;"I'll see you next week."@@ @@.jessica;"I'll keep an eye out for you then,"@@ she winks at you before standing up and heading off toward the weights. <<elseif $d6jessica is 1>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 1, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"By the way, do you have any tips?"@@ you ask, hoping Jessica won't mind sharing a few of her secrets. @@.player;"You're the expert here, after all."@@ @@.jessica;"Me?"@@ she asks, a playful grin spreading across her face. @@.jessica;"I wouldn't call myself an expert. I do have a few tips though."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, I want to learn from the best,"@@ you say, smiling as well. @@.jessica;"Okay, so, first things first,"@@ she begins. @@.jessica;"Don't just stick to cardio or to the machines. A mix of cardio and strength will get you better results. It keeps you balanced. Personally, I do these circuits with a mix of lunges, kettlebell swings, and core work to keep everything toned but not too muscular."@@ @@.player;"I see,"@@ you nod. @@.jessica;"Yup, squats also help a lot too,"@@ she smiles. @@.jessica;"Guys tend to neglect that, but they're a really great exercise."@@ @@.player;"Can't say I'll look forward to squats, but thanks for the help,"@@ you respond. @@.jessica;"Of course,"@@ she winks at you. @@.jessica;"I'm going to continue working out though, it was nice seeing you here."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Activity - Gym 2">><</button>>

You decide to keep it simple and you head over to the cardio machines. You step onto an open treadmill and settle in. You set the treadmill to a light pace and start jogging. The steady rhythm calms your nerves, and you soon find yourself zoning out. You find your hand reaching to increase the speed again and again and again. You have a nice view of the city outside, and it feels refreshing to just move and clear your mind. After some time, you finally return to Earth. You're drenched in sweat, and realize you ran way more than expected. The exhaustion hits you all at once, and you slow the treadmill to a stop. You put your hands on your knees and take large breaths to relax your beating heart. @@.jessica;"So, did you enjoy your run?"@@ you hear a familiar voice say from your right. You glance over to see Jessica take out an earbud, a smile on her face. @@.jessica;"I've been here for a while now and you just noticed me."@@ @@.player;"Were you?"@@ you ask after finally catching your breath. @@.jessica;"Yup, I noticed you when I walked in,"@@ Jessica says, jogging at a brisk pace on the treadmill. She looks focused and effortlessly put together as always. @@.jessica;"I never saw you here before, are you new?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I just decided to go to the gym today for some reason. Don't ask me why."@@ @@.jessica;"Cool,"@@ Jessica replies, a smile on her face. She stops her treadmill and slows her pace as the treadmill comes to a stop. @@.jessica;"Come on, let's take a break. You are in desperate need of water."@@ The two of you head to the water purifier, and you down water as if you've been stuck in the Sahara without a water bottle. Jessica giggles as she watches you gulp down cup after cup. The gym's noise hums around the two of you as you think about what you should say. <<button "Compliment her dedication" "Activity - Gym Cardio 1">>\<<set $d6jessica to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask for workout advice" "Activity - Gym Cardio 1">>\<<set $d6jessica to 1>>\<</button>>

@@.player;"I'll get the day pass,"@@ you say, scanning your phone against the card reader. <<if $money > 9>>\ <<set $money -= 10>>\ @@.boy;"All done,"@@ the gym worker says, nodding. @@.boy;"Thank you for purchasing a membership at Apex Fitness Studio."@@ @@.player;"You too,"@@ you say. As you walk into the main area of the gym, you blush bright red. Why did you say you too to the gym worker? <<button "Go to the main area of the gym" "Activity - Gym 1">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.boy;"It says your payment has been declined,"@@ the gym worker says after a few seconds, raising his eyebrows at you. @@.player;"O-Oh,"@@ you say, blushing bright red in embarrassment. You really were broke, weren't you? <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d6jordan is 0>>\ You glance at Jordan, feeling hesitant once again. Lifting weights isn't really your thing, and you're sure he's cringing at your form. After some internal debate, you walk over to Jordan. @@.player;"Hey, Jordan,"@@ you begin awkwardly. @@.player;"Do you mind spotting me?"@@ Jordan's eyebrows furrow further, clearly not having expected you to ask for help. He hesitates, seeming to gauge if you're serious or not. After a while, he shrugs and makes his way toward you. @@.jordan;"Alright,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"If you go for too much weight though, I'm letting it drop."@@ @@.player;"I'll stick to what I can handle,"@@ you say, adjusting the weights on the barbell. He moves into place behind you on the bench. His eyes are sharp and focused as he watches you settle and get into position. @@.jordan;"Go for it."@@ You start your reps, feeling a little safer with Jordan. His hands hover close to the bar, ready to assist if needed. With each lift, you can sense his presence. @@.jordan;"Slow down a little,"@@ he says, voice low. @@.jordan;"Don't rush it. Just focus on controlling the weight."@@ You nod, adjusting your rhythm. You immediately feel a difference, but after a few more reps, your arms begin burning. @@.jordan;"Last two, come on,"@@ Jordan encourages you, much to your surprise. @@.jordan;"Finish strong."@@ You complete the final rep, setting the bar back on the rack with his help. You let out a relieved breath, taking a second to rest on the bench. @@.jordan;"Not bad,"@@ Jordan crosses his arms. @@.jordan;"Watch your grip though, you'll strain your wrist if you do it like that."@@ @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you nod, grateful for the tip. @@.player;"I'm glad you didn't let the bar drop."@@ @@.jordan;"No problem,"@@ he shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes hold some approval. @@.jordan;"Just don't go overestimating what you can lift."@@ <<elseif $d6jordan is 1>>\ You notice Jordan going through an intense set, each movement controlled and precise. The sheer determination on his face is striking, and it's clear he's spent hours upon hours in the gym. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you step a bit closer. You wait for Jordan to finish with his set before piping up. @@.player;"You're making that look way too easy. How long have you been working out?"@@ Jordan glances up at you, seeming surprised. @@.jordan;"Long enough,"@@ he says gruffly. He wipes his brow with a towel. @@.jordan;"It doesn't come easy though, it's all about consistency. Even on days where I'd rather do anything else, I come to the gym."@@ @@.player;"It shows, you're amazing,"@@ you nod. @@.player;"I can barely handle a few pounds, meanwhile your weights are super big. Do you have any advice for me?"@@ Jordan glances away, and you're scared he'll just ignore you. He looks back though, sighing. @@.jordan;"First, don't focus on trying to look cool. Some people just go for the heavy weights to flex or something, but their form is terrible. Just take it seriously and don't rush."@@ @@.player;"Trust me, I don't have much of an ego,"@@ you chuckle. @@.jordan;"Good,"@@ you can Jordan's lip twitch a little. Did he almost smile? @@.jordan;"If you're looking to stick with this, don't just mess around either. Figure out what you want from it."@@ @@.player;"I'm just looking to be a little healthier, I guess,"@@ you respond. @@.jordan;"That's a good goal to have,"@@ Jordan's expression softens slightly, although he quickly hides it. @@.jordan;"As long as you're not wasting your time here, I guess that's a start."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, I'll try not to mess up too much,"@@ you say, grateful that Jordan took his time to chat with you. <</if>>\ With a final nod, Jordan heads back to his own weights. There's a slight shift in his demeanor. While he's not warm by any means, he's no longer as distant. You sense a tiny crack in his tough exterior. It's a start, and as you return to your own routine, you feel a tinge more confident. <<button "Continue" "Activity - Gym 2">><</button>>

You head over to the free weights area, deciding you could use some strength training. You pick up a dumbbell, feeling the weight in your hands. You settle in for a few reps with the dumbbell. After a while though, you look up to see a familiar face. Jordan. He's working on a bench press, his form precise. His eyes are focused ahead, and he doesn't seem to care about your presence much. You continue working out but can't help the urge to glance at him again. He notices you this time and his eyebrows furrow. You quickly look forward again, but he has already caught you staring. <<button "Ask for him to spot you" "Activity - Gym Weights 1">>\<<set $d6jordan to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Comment on his routine" "Activity - Gym Weights 1">>\<<set $d6jordan to 1>>\<</button>>

You roll up your mat, feeling the pleasant stretch in your muscles as you walk up to Ms. Delaney. She's tidying up the front of the class area, cleaning everything up for future classes. @@.player;"Hi, Ms. Delaney,"@@ you say, a hint of awkwardness in your voice. @@.player;"I just wanted to say thank you for the class. I didn't realize yoga could be so challenging."@@ @@.girl;"That's wonderful to hear,"@@ she laughs softly. @@.girl;"Yoga is about both physical and mental strength. It takes time and practice."@@ @@.player;"It really does, doesn't it?"@@ you laugh too. @@.player;"I've done other workouts a few times but this felt like a whole different experience. I felt focused and relaxed."@@ @@.girl;"That's exactly what yoga is for,"@@ she says, a warm smile growing on her face. @@.girl;"I notice you're new here. If you enjoyed today's class, you're welcome to join us again. We meet every Saturday at this time."@@ You consider it, feeling oddly drawn to the idea. Ms. Delaney's encouragement is genuine, and there's something appealing about returning for more. You realize that maybe you can use this time each week to clear your mind. @@.player;"I'll think about it, thanks,"@@ you say. @@.girl;"Just remember each practice builds on the last,"@@ she says before you leave. @@.girl;"It's about progress, not perfection."@@ As you walk away, you're glad you decided to join this yoga class. <<button "Continue" "Activity - Gym 2">><</button>>

<<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You notice a sign advertising a yoga class that'll begin in a few minutes. You've never tried yoga before, but you feel a little curious as you stare at the sign. The class has already begun to gather in one corner of the gym, with a mix of people stretching, some setting down mats, and a calm instructor greeting everyone. You shrug and head toward them, deciding to give it a go. You grab a mat and find a spot near the back, feeling too scared to be up in the front. The instructor, a tall woman with a soothing voice, introduces herself. @@.girl;"Welcome, everyone, I'm Ms. Delaney!"@@ she says, a serene smile on her face. @@.girl;"Whether you're a yoga veteran or brand new, this is the space to relax, unwind, and challenge yourself. Let's get started with some breathing."@@ As you move from one pose to the next, you quickly realize yoga is not as easy as you thought. Holding the warrior pose required a lot more strength and energy than you anticipated. There is still something grounding about the whole experience though, as you move through the poses in sync with the others. You find your mind clearing as you focus on each breath and stretch. When the class shifts into a seated forward fold, you notice some of the other students sneaking curious glances at you. Most people here seem to be women in their 20s, and they're surprised to see a high school guy in a yoga class. Instead of feeling nervous though, you just focus on your breathing. @@.girl;"Let go of any thoughts or worries you have,"@@ Ms. Delaney says. @@.girl;"Breathe into the moment, my dears."@@ After a while, she leads you into a final resting position called Savasana. Lying flat on your back, you feel a deep relaxation wash over you, as if you're floating. It's a rare, peaceful moment of stillness. As the class ends, Ms. Delaney thanks everyone for coming. You feel surprisingly refreshed, your muscles pleasantly stretched. Your mind seems a little clearer too, although you're unsure if that's a placebo or not. You're a little sore, but you appreciated the challenge. <<button "Thank the instructor" "Activity - Gym Yoga 1">>\<<set $metDelaney to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Leave quietly" "Activity - Gym 2">>\<<set $metDelaney to false>>\<</button>>

<<set $d6option2 to true>>\ <<set $d6activities += 1>>\ You step into the bustling gym, looking around the place. It's very clean, with every surface being spotless. You look around, not sure what to do, when the worker at the front desk gestures for you to come closer. You walk over to the muscular guy who looks like he's in college. @@.boy;"Hello, welcome to Apex Fitness Studio,"@@ he says his rehearsed line. @@.boy;"Do you have a membership?"@@ <<if $d5wheel is 0>>\ @@.player;"I do, actually,"@@ you say, pulling out the ticket you got from the party yesterday. It seems that thing did come in handy. @@.boy;"Thank you, feel free to enter,"@@ the worker says after scanning the ticket. He hands it back to you. @@.boy;"Thank you for coming to Apex Fitness Studio."@@ <<button "Go to the main area of the gym" "Activity - Gym 1">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.player;"I don't, how much does it cost?"@@ you ask, hoping it's not too expensive. @@.boy;"It'll cost you 50 dollars for a month,"@@ the worker says. @@.boy;"Are you interested?"@@ @@.player;"Fifty?"@@ your mouth falls open. You didn't realize the gym was that expensive. @@.boy;"There's also a day pass, that one only costs 10 dollars."@@ You think if you should purchase the day pass for the gym or not. You check your phone to see that you currently have $money dollars in your account. <<button "Purchase the day pass" "Activity - Gym Purchase">><</button>> <<button "Go back home" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d6dad is 0>>\ @@.player;"Fixing this thing wasn't too bad,"@@ you say as you twist the wrench one final time on the bottom hinge. @@.player;"I'm glad I don't have to do this often though."@@ @@.boy;"Well, if you enjoyed it, maybe you can take a full-time position here at the home repair crew,"@@ your dad jokes, gently nudging your shoulder. @@.boy;"You don't get paid, and there aren't any benefits either. I would appreciate it though."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, sounds like a dream job,"@@ you snort. The two of you share a quiet laugh, and any tension still lingering melts away. @@.boy;"Alright, I think this gate should finally stop squeaking every time we open it,"@@ your dad tests the gate, a faint smile appearing on his face as it moves smoothly. @@.boy;"Good work, partner."@@ @@.player;"Partner?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"Don't push it, Dad."@@ @@.boy;"Fine, assistant it is,"@@ your dad retorts, laughing as he packs up the toolbox and heads toward the house. You follow him, and you can't help but be a little happy that you spent some quality time with your dad. You don't have a ton of memories with him, but you can already tell you'll remember this one for years to come. Your dad pops open the fridge and hands you a cold soda. @@.player;"Oh, what's this?"@@ you ask, looking at the red can. @@.boy;"You're a little young for a beer, so this is the best you'll get,"@@ your dad chuckles, patting your back. @@.boy;"Thanks for helping out."@@ <<elseif $d6dad is 1>>\ <<set $dadRelo to Math.clamp($dadRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"So, how were things like with Grandpa?"@@ you say after a moment of hesitation. Your dad is far too adept at this, and he tightens a bolt like he's done it a thousand times before. @@.boy;"Grandpa was always tinkering around the house,"@@ your dad looks out across the yard, his eyes seeming to focus on a distant memory. @@.boy;"I used to be his assistant for everything, just like you're doing right now."@@ @@.player;"Are you trying to recruit me?"@@ you ask, raising your eyebrows. @@.boy;"No, don't worry,"@@ your dad chuckles. @@.boy;"I want you to do what you enjoy doing. But I really did enjoy helping out around the house. Your grandpa always had all these little projects everywhere you went, you couldn't take a few steps without running into some contraption. I was usually just out there holding the tools, getting my hands dirty. He had me wedged under the sink with a flashlight while he taught me. His idea of teaching was more like barking instructions and hoping things would work out though."@@ @@.player;"So, how'd you end up getting this good at fixing stuff then?"@@ @@.boy;"Compared to Grandpa, I'm nothing,"@@ your dad says, the warmth of nostalgia lingering in his voice. @@.boy;"He wasn't a great teacher, but he loved spending that time with me. I think those were his favorite memories. Just something as simple as the two of us fixing a gate."@@ @@.player;"It must have been nice to spend time with him like that,"@@ you say, feeling the breeze shift gently around the two of you. @@.boy;"Yeah, I didn't realize it at the time though,"@@ your dad nods slowly. @@.boy;"But looking back, those were some of the best memories I had with him. Those afternoons felt endless like we had all the time in the world. I'd do anything to go back to one of those days, even just for a few minutes."@@ There's a pause as you look at the gate in front of you. You can sense something in your dad you hadn't seen before though. A kind of longing, a deep respect for those few specks of time when everything made sense. @@.boy;"I know I've missed a lot of that with you, $name,"@@ your dad with quiet sincerity in his voice. @@.boy;"I'm not perfect. I'm not even decent. Work kept me busy, and I got distracted. Much more distracted than I should have."@@ @@.player;"You're here now, Dad,"@@ you whisper. @@.boy;"Thanks, $name,"@@ your dad's gaze softens as he claps a hand on your shoulder. He lightly squeezes it as he looks into your eyes, his gaze saying everything. @@.boy;"It means a lot to me that you decided to come out here and spend some time with me today. Grandpa would've been proud of you, you know that, right?"@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Dad,"@@ you say, a lump forming in your throat. The words hit you harder than you expected. The two of you finish up the gate, working together in a comfortable silence. The project is just a gate in the backyard, but to you, it feels more like a bridge. It's more than just a squeaky hinge, it's a shared memory to look back on. <<else>>\ <<set $dadRelo to Math.clamp($dadRelo + 1, 0, 100)>>\ You look down at the ground, taking a moment to think. After a few moments, you speak up. @@.player;"You know, Dad,"@@ you begin, glancing up to gauge your father's reaction. @@.player;"I know work is important, and I get that you do what you do to take care of us, but sometimes it feels like you haven't really been here."@@ Your dad stops tightening a screw and looks at you, his expression surprised. You take a deep breath and continue. @@.player;"Like, I don't even know what to expect when you're home,"@@ you say, trying to keep the frustration that's been boiling inside of you for so long from bubbling over. @@.player;"I don't really know who you are, and I especially feel like you don't really know me. It makes things complicated for me, not to mention for Lily."@@ @@.boy;"I'm sorry, $name,"@@ your dad says quietly, his voice thick with regret. He takes a slow breath, his brows drawn together as he processes what you just said. @@.boy;"I didn't realize it had gotten that bad. I know I've been gone a lot, but I convinced myself that as long as I was providing, it was enough. That financial stability was the most important thing. But I realized it wasn't enough, not nearly so. That's on me."@@ @@.player;"It just sucks sometimes,"@@ you sigh. You're glad your dad isn't brushing it off or making excuses, but words just spill out of your mouth. @@.player;"There were things I wanted to talk to you about, things I wanted to show you. Even when I had a bad day at school, I always wished I had my dad to talk to. I missed having you here."@@ @@.boy;"I'm sorry I missed so much,"@@ his face softens, guilt crossing his features. @@.boy;"I thought I was doing what was best for the family, but maybe I was just hiding behind work. I apologize, $name. I'm truly sorry."@@ @@.player;"Will things change?"@@ you ask, your voice quiet. @@.boy;"Yes, they will,"@@ your father says, a new determination in his eyes. @@.boy;"I'm going to do my best to change. I want to be really present with you, with Lily, with your mother. I don't want to miss out anymore. I know you're already an adult now, and I know that you're well on your way to leaving the nest. But let's make this last year a good one."@@ You nod, feeling a weight lift off your chest. Your dad's words don't fix everything, but they are a very good start to repairing the fractured relationship the two of you share. There's a new understanding as you finish working on the gate, side by side. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

<<set $dadRelo to Math.clamp($dadRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You head out to the backyard, the late morning sun casting long shadows over the lawn. Your dad is hunched over by the old wooden gate, toolbox open beside him. he has a screwdriver in one hand and a fierce look of concentration on his face. @@.boy;"Oh, $name,"@@ he says, sounding a little surprised as he notices you. @@.boy;"Do you need something?"@@ @@.player;"No, I wanted to help, actually,"@@ you respond, nervous now that you're actually out here. @@.player;"It seemed you were having a tough time, so I wanted to ask if I could do anything."@@ @@.boy;"Oh, of course you can help!"@@ your dad interrupts, a wide grin on his face. You haven't seen him look so happy in a long time, and his enthusiasm brings a smile to your face as well. He hands you a screwdriver and starts giving directions. @@.boy;"Here, you can start with the lower hinge. It's loose, and I could use an extra set of hands."@@ You two work together, your dad talking you through the process of tightening the screws, aligning the hinge, and checking the balance. It's simple enough, but you feel like you're learning something important. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you settle into a rhythm, the creak gradually growing quieter. @@.boy;"You know, I used to help my dad with stuff like this too sometimes when I was your age,"@@ he pauses, a distant look in his eyes. @@.boy;"I didn't appreciate it back then, I honestly just wanted to hang out with my friends. But now that I look back, those little moments were something special."@@ You glance at your dad, seeing him a bit differently now. There's a hint of vulnerability in your dad's voice. As if he's subtly admitting that he's also trying to bridge the gap that's grown between the two of you. <<button "Keep the conversation light" "Activity - Home Dad 1">>\<<set $d6dad to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask about your dad's memories with your grandpa" "Activity - Home Dad 1">>\<<set $d6dad to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Express some of your own frustrations with your dad" "Activity - Home Dad 1">>\<<set $d6dad to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $d6lily is 0>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You offer her a smile, remembering your own first-day jitters from a few years ago. @@.player;"Honestly, Lily, I was a total mess before I started high school,"@@ you admit, chuckling to yourself. @@.player;"You probably don't remember because you were really young, but I was super scared. I couldn't even get any sleep before freshman year, I was freaking out about everything. What if I got lost? What if my teachers hated me? What if I embarrassed myself in front of everyone? I think everyone feels that way, no matter how confident they might appear."@@ @@.lily;"Really?"@@ she asks, her eyes widening slightly. @@.lily;"I always thought you just walked in and dealt with it."@@ @@.player;"I wish it was as easy as you make it seem,"@@ you say, giving her a reassuring nudge with your shoulder. @@.player;"I think that's the thing about high school, though. You're not supposed to have it figured out when you start. Some people say you need to know what major you want to go into and have everything planned out from the get-go, but that's nonsense. Even in college, almost everyone changes their major at least once. It's a process, Lily."@@ @@.lily;"You're right,"@@ Lily processes what you just said. @@.lily;"But I'm just worried I'll make a bad impression or something. What if people think I'm weird?"@@ @@.player;"Lily, you're going to make friends,"@@ you laugh softly, shaking your head. @@.player;"Yeah, maybe you'll have a few awkward moments, but everyone does. You'll find people who get you, and those are the friends that matter."@@ @@.lily;"I just hate not knowing what to expect,"@@ Lily says, a hint of nervousness still in her voice. @@.player;"High school is full of surprises, trust me I know,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"Some of it's weird, and some of it's great. The nerves though, they go away. After a while, you get used to it, and suddenly you're just living it."@@ @@.lily;"Thanks, $name,"@@ Lily smiles, her shoulders relaxing. @@.lily;"I didn't know you went through all that too.@@ @@.player;"What's family for, huh?"@@ you ask, grinning. @@.player;"If you ever need advice or want to know of some embarrassing stuff I did in freshman year, I'm always here."@@ @@.lily;"Didn't have to tell me, I knew you were embarrassing,"@@ Lily snorts, her usual personality returning. She leans into you though, a rare show of affection. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, and you realize your little sister really is growing up. You hope that your reassurance will make her transition to high school a little bit easier when the time comes. <<elseif $d6lily is 1>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 1, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at the notebook in Lily's hands, noticing the dense page of notes she's working on. You shift a bit closer to her, reaching out to look over her shoulder. @@.player;"I felt nervous before high school, but I feel learning how to study efficiently is the key to doing well,"@@ you begin, pointing at her page. @@.player;"It looks like you're putting in some serious effort, but you don't need to study everything at once."@@ @@.lily;"That's easy for you to say, you're already in your senior year,"@@ she frowns, looking up from her notebook with some skepticism. @@.lily;"I don't want to fall behind on anything."@@ @@.player;"I get it, but you need to be smart with how you study, especially for some of the more difficult classes,"@@ you say, taking her notebook and flipping through her notes. @@.player;"Try and take a break every now and then. Studying in shorter bursts is way more effective than doing it in one go. I think a five-minute break every twenty-five minutes is good."@@ @@.lily;"Five minutes doesn't sound like much of a break,"@@ Lily makes a face, clearly intrigued. @@.player;"It sounds short, but it actually keeps you from burning out,"@@ you explain. @@.player;"Not to mention it makes studying feel way less like a marathon. Also, when you take notes, try breaking things down into bullet points instead of full sentences. It's a lot easier to remember that way."@@ Lily looks down at her notes, where she has long paragraphs on each topic. @@.lily;"Okay, that makes sense,"@@ she nods, thoughtfully going over what you're saying. @@.lily;"Anything else?"@@ @@.player;"For the stuff that's really hard to remember, I make flashcards. They're actually a lifesaver, you can quiz yourself, and it makes the stuff stick in your head better. It really makes the stuff stick in your head better. Plus, you can quiz yourself or if you have a friend you can quiz each other."@@ @@.lily;"I thought flashcards were for little kids learning words,"@@ her face crunches as she tries to envision it. @@.player;"Hey, they're really useful, don't knock them,"@@ you say with a grin. @@.player;"They've saved me more times than I can count. Speaking of friends, try and form a study group. You can share notes and your friends can point out things you missed."@@ @@.lily;"Alright, alright, I'll try these,"@@ she considers, nodding. @@.lily;"If it doesn't work and I flunk out of high school though, I'm blaming you."@@ @@.player;"Hey, my tips are the best, they'll help a ton,"@@ you laugh. @@.lily;"Whatever you say,"@@ Lily says with a smirk on her face, some of her worries eased away. @@.player;"You're going to do great, Lily,"@@ you pat her on the shoulder. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Well, I felt a little nervous, but it's really not a big deal,"@@ you shrug. @@.player;"You'll probably end up napping through half of it anyway."@@ @@.lily;"Napping through it?"@@ Lily frowns, looking up from her notes. @@.lily;"Seriously?"@@ @@.player;"I'm just saying it's mostly a bunch of random quizzes, weird food, and teachers yapping about random things for ages. It's really not worth stressing over."@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, but I don't want to mess it up,"@@ Lily bites her lip, glancing back down at her notes. She's clearly not reassured by your words. @@.lily;"What if I don't make any friends or I can't keep up with the homework?"@@ @@.player;"If you can't keep up, just pretend you're too cool for it,"@@ you say, waving a hand dismissively. @@.player;"Besides, you're pretty smart."@@ @@.lily;"I don't think I want to be too cool for school, $name,"@@ Lily looks at you, her frown only growing deeper. @@.lily;"I actually care a lot about this, you know."@@ @@.player;"Just don't overthink it,"@@ you give a small, awkward laugh. @@.lily;"Yeah, thanks, I guess,"@@ she sighs, pulling her notebook a little closer. @@.lily;"I just thought you'd have some actual advice."@@ You feel a pang of regret, realizing you may have misread the moment. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

<<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You step out into the front yard, the sun warm against your face. You spot your sister, Lily, sitting cross-legged on the grass. Her brow is furrowed in concentration as she jots something down. When she hears you approaching, she glances at you, blinking in surprise. @@.lily;"Hey, $name,"@@ she says, her voice missing its usual spunk. @@.lily;"I didn't think anyone would be out here. I was just going over some stuff."@@ @@.player;"Stuff?"@@ you ask, raising your eyebrows. You expected Lily to call you a loser or say something snarky. You look down to see a bunch of highlighters and sticky notes sprawled around her. @@.lily;"I'm just trying to get ready for high school,"@@ she admits. @@.lily;"I'm just worried because high school determines what university you go to, and that determines your job, and that determines your entire life! Ugh, it's just all so overwhelming."@@ You can see the unease etched on her face, a glimpse of worry beneath her usual confidence. It's strange to see her like this—Lily, your fiery little sister, is actually nervous about school. @@.player;"I get the feeling,"@@ you say, sitting down on the grass beside her. @@.lily;"Did you ever feel like this?"@@ she asks. @@.lily;"Before you started high school?"@@ <<button "Reassure her that everyone feels nervous" "Activity - Home Lily 1">>\<<set $d6lily to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Offer practical study tips" "Activity - Home Lily 1">>\<<set $d6lily to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Jokingly downplay the whole thing" "Activity - Home Lily 1">>\<<set $d6lily to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $d6mom is 0>>\ You shift your body as you mix the batter to be closer to your mom. The kitchen feels cozy, the warmth of the oven mixing with the smell of chocolate. @@.player;"Hey, Mom,"@@ you start, a hint of curiosity in your voice. @@.player;"Do we have any other family recipes?"@@ Your mom pauses, looking up from the tray of cookies. Her eyes soften as she takes a moment to reflect, a fond smile growing across her face. @@.girl;"Well, there's the apple pie recipe that my mom used to make every fall,"@@ your mom begins. @@.girl;"I was so curious as to what the secret ingredient was."@@ @@.player;"So, what was the secret ingredient?"@@ you ask, tilting your head. @@.girl;"Cinnamon,"@@ your mom can't help but smile. @@.girl;"Your grandpa also used to make this stew that was just amazing. It was a bunch of random ingredients, but it all came together to make something special. I've tried to recreate it but it doesn't taste quite the same. If you're interested in making it, I could try and find the recipe."@@ @@.player;"That actually sounds really nice,"@@ you lean back a little, intrigued by the idea of learning more about your family's culinary roots. @@.girl;"You know, we could make it into a family thing, if you'd like,"@@ your mom laughs gently, a wistful look in her eyes. @@.girl;"Maybe next weekend we'll do something together. It's nice to share a moment like that."@@ You smile, feeling a sense of connection with your family's past. @@.player;"I'd like that,"@@ you whisper. @@.girl;"Just say the word, and we'll make it happen,"@@ your mom nods. @@.girl;"If you ever want to learn any of my other recipes, let me know."@@ <<elseif $d6mom is 1>>\ You glance at your mom rolling the cookie dough and arranging it on the tray. It's a familiar motion, and you can tell she's done it a ton in the past. @@.player;"So, you're kind of a master at baking, huh?"@@ you ask, chuckling. @@.girl;"I wouldn't call myself a master,"@@ she looks up and laughs. @@.girl;"I'm not a bad baker though, I'll give myself that."@@ @@.player;"You always make it look so easy though,"@@ you say, a skeptical look crossing your face. @@.player;"Lily and I tried to make cookies once, and it was a disaster."@@ @@.girl;"You don't have to tell me,"@@ your mom shakes her head, although there's a hint of a smile on her face. @@.girl;"I remember the two of you left the mess for me to clean up."@@ @@.player;"Oops, sorry,"@@ you apologize. @@.girl;"Don't worry, you have to practice to learn. My first few attempts at making cookies weren't good at all, trust me. My mom, your grandma, got angry after I burnt all of them. The oven smelled like burnt chocolate and dough for weeks."@@ @@.player;"Wait, so you're telling me you weren't born with your baking skills?"@@ you tease. You can't imagine your mom, who always seems to be put-together in the kitchen, doing that. @@.girl;"Not at all, did you listen to anything I just said?"@@ she tousles your hair. @@.girl;"Your grandma always told me I'd figure it out one day. Look at me now, she was right."@@ @@.player;"Maybe one day I'll become a master baker too,"@@ you murmur. @@.girl;"We can always make this a regular thing, if you want,"@@ your mom winks at you. @@.girl;"I can pass down all the Yoon family secrets to you."@@ <<else>>\ You glance over at your mom, who's rolling the cookie dough and arranging it on the tray. She hums softly to yourself, and you feel a sense of gratitude. She's always been busy, and you're sure she's had a lot of personal issues she hasn't told you. @@.player;"Hey, Mom,"@@ you say, leaning against the counter. @@.player;"Thank you for doing this with me, and for everything you've done for me in general."@@ Your mom pauses, surprised by your sincere tone. A soft smile crosses her face and her eyes water up a little. @@.girl;"Oh, $name,"@@ her voice trembles slightly. @@.girl;"You don't have to thank me for that, I'm just doing what a mother should. Spending time with you is as much for me as it is for you."@@ @@.player;"I guess,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"It's just, I know raising a kid isn't easy and you've always done your best. I've never felt unloved or anything before. I guess I realized I should say thank you."@@ @@.girl;"Thank you,"@@ your mom says, pulling you into a tight hug. After a few seconds, she pulls back, staring at you. @@.girl;"You're all grown up now, aren't you?"@@ <</if>>\ You feel a warmth swelling in you at her words, and you know that these small, intimate moments carry a lot of meaning. The conversation drifts back to lighthearted chatting as the cookies bake, but you feel like there's a whole new world of memories waiting to be uncovered now. <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

<<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You wander into the kitchen, where the sweet smell of cookies and brownies fills the air. Your mom is bustling around, carefully measuring ingredients, checking timers, and sliding fresh cookies onto a cooling rack. She glances up at you, a warm smile spreading across her face. @@.girl;"Hey, $name, you're just in time,"@@ she says, gesturing to the counter lined with mixing bowls and chocolate chips. @@.girl;"I thought I'd make a few treats today. Do you want to help?"@@ @@.player;"Sure, why not,"@@ you grin, any reservations you may have about helping melting away in the cozy kitchen. You grab an apron, and your mom hands you a mixing spoon. She asks you to stir the batter and you oblige. You end up sneaking spoonfuls of cookie dough and chocolate chips though. @@.girl;"We won't have enough for the actual cookies,"@@ your mom laughs as she swats your hand away. @@.girl;"Be careful."@@ @@.player;"They're so good though,"@@ you say with cookie dough in your mouth. As the two of you bake, your mom shares little stories. She talks about how she learned her favorite cookie recipe from her own mother, and how she almost set the kitchen on fire the first time she tried to make it. You find yourself relaxing, feeling a connection with your mom that you sometimes miss. Once the cookies are in the oven, you have a moment to finally rest and chat with your mom. <<button "Ask about old family recipes" "Activity - Home Mom 1">>\<<set $d6mom to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Jokingly ask if she's a master at baking" "Activity - Home Mom 1">>\<<set $d6mom to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Thank her for everything she's done for you" "Activity - Home Mom 1">>\<<set $d6mom to 2>>\<</button>>

You stay in your room and spend some time playing video games. It's a fun time, but you can't help but think you should have done something a little more productive. <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - Weekend Choice">><</button>>

<<set $d6option3 to true>>\ <<set $d6activities += 1>>\ You decide to stay where you are, wanting to relax a little in the comfort of your own home. You rub your eyes and look at what your family members are doing. You can see your dad outside, fixing the creaky backyard gate that's been broken since you were a kid. Your mom is in the kitchen, baking some cookies and brownies, and you know she'd love it if you helped. Finally, your little sister is in the front yard, carrying a small notebook in her hands. You wonder who you should approach, or if you should just stay in your room and play video games. <<button "Go help your dad" "Activity - Home Dad">><</button>> <<button "Go help your mom" "Activity - Home Mom">><</button>> <<button "Go talk to your sister" "Activity - Home Lily">><</button>> <<button "Play video games" "Activity - Home Nothing">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 6>>\ @@.lily;"Dude, get up!"@@ you hear your sister's voice say as you're shaken awake. @@.player;"Huh?"@@ you ask groggily, still half-asleep. @@.player;"What's up?"@@ @@.lily;"Well, Mom and Dad want to have a family breakfast,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"They told me to wake you up."@@ @@.player;"How cruel of them,"@@ you muse. @@.player;"Waking up to your face and voice is horrific."@@ @@.lily;"Shut up,"@@ Lily shoves you in annoyance. @@.lily;"Anyway, get to the dining room soon."@@ Lily leaves and you push yourself off your bed and onto the floor. You look in the mirror, wondering how you're going to explain the way you look. You look \ <<if $feminineLooks > 19>>\ very different from how you did when this week started. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 9>>\ a little different from how you did when this week started. <<else>>\ not too different from how you did when this week started. <</if>>\ <<button "Go to the dining room" "Day 6 - 2">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-kitchen.png"> <<if $d5party is true>>\ @@.girl;"Morning, $name,"@@ your mom says, noticing how tired you look. @@.girl;"Did the back-to-school party have you exhausted?"@@ @@.boy;"You didn't get into too much trouble at that party last night, did you?"@@ your dad asks. @@.player;"I didn't get into any trouble, Dad,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But it was really tiring."@@ <<if $d5design isnot 0>>\ @@.girl;"Go shower after you eat, you still have face paint on,"@@ your mom says. @@.player;"Yes, yes,"@@ you reply. It slipped your mind, but you completely forgot to shower yesterday. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ @@.girl;"Morning, $name,"@@ your mom says. @@.girl;"Wake up a little earlier next time, you didn't even go to the back-to-school party."@@ @@.player;"Sorry, Mom,"@@ you reply, rubbing your eyes. <</if>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 19>>\ @@.boy;"You know, you look a little different, $name,"@@ your dad says, inspecting your face closely. @@.boy;"Softer, I think."@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, he said he's experimenting with how he looks or something,"@@ Lily explains. @@.boy;"Ah, I see,"@@ your dad replies, his face unreadable. <<else>>\ Your dad glances at your face for a second but then looks away, not noticing anything. <</if>>\ @@.lily;"So, what are we having for breakfast?"@@ Lily asks, sniffing the air. @@.lily;"I smell sausage."@@ @@.player;"You smell the sausage but can't smell your own body odor?"@@ you ask, chuckling. Lily didn't have any body odor, but it was fun teasing her. @@.player;"Geez, we might have to get you to a doctor."@@ @@.lily;"I do not have any body odor, did you even shower yesterday?"@@ Lily asks indignantly. @@.player;"Okay, next topic,"@@ you cough awkwardly, realizing she caught you. @@.lily;"No, no, you didn't shower and you're calling me stinky?"@@ she says with a sly smile on her face. @@.lily;"According to my big brain, this is hypocrisy at its finest!"@@ @@.girl;"Knock it off, you two,"@@ your mom says, bringing plates full of various classic American breakfast foods to the table. @@.girl;"Just enjoy the food, okay?"@@ @@.lily;"Yay, I knew I smelled sausage!"@@ Lily exclaims as she sees a plate of sausage. @@.lily;"See, $name."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, yeah,"@@ you reply. Your entire family starts digging into the breakfast, enjoying the food. @@.boy;"So, how's the senior year going so far?"@@ your dad asks after he finishes chewing and swallowing the bite he was eating. He seems a little awkward, with a forced smile plastered on his face, but it's clear he's genuinely putting in effort. @@.boy;"Did anything exciting happen? Do you have any plans for the weekend?"@@ @@.lily;"$name's just going to mope around like he always does,"@@ Lily teases you. @@.lily;"That's your plan this weekend, isn't it?"@@ You think about how you should respond. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ How you treat your father will have a massive impact on how his arc goes. Will your dad become your greatest ally or will he remain the distant father he's always been? </div>\ <<button "Open up and engage with your dad" "Day 6 - 3">>\<<set $d6dad to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D6_dad" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Keep things vague, don't open up to your dad" "Day 6 - 3">>\<<set $d6dad to 1>><<trackChoice "D6_dad" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Deflect to Lily, shift the focus off yourself" "Day 6 - 3">>\<<set $d6dad to 2>><<trackChoice "D6_dad" 2 "story">><</button>> <<button "Reject the conversation" "Day 6 - 3">>\<<set $d6dad to 3>><<trackChoice "D6_dad" 3 "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-kitchen.png"> <<if $d6dad is 0>>\ <<set $dadRelo += 5>>\ @@.player;"Oh, a lot has been going on,"@@ you say, thinking about all that has happened in just a week. You leave out the curse but talk about some other stuff that's happened. \ <<if $d5party is true>>\ @@.player;"I went to the back-to-school party the other night, and it was actually fun. I also signed up for a club and went to the mall."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I signed up for a club and went to the mall. The back-to-school party was the other night, but I didn't attend."@@ <</if>>\ @@.boy;"Looks like you've got a lot going on!"@@ your dad says enthusiastically. @@.boy;"What club did you sign up for?"@@ <<if $club is 0>>\ @@.player;"The Academic Club,"@@ you respond, swallowing a bite of your eggs. @@.player;"I just thought it'd be good to go for something related to studying since colleges like it."@@ <<elseif $club is 1>>\ @@.player;"The Occult Club,"@@ you respond, swallowing a bite of your eggs. @@.player;"I know it's unconventional, but I think the unexplained is super interesting."@@ <<elseif $club is 2>>\ @@.player;"The Fashion Club,"@@ you respond, swallowing a bite of your eggs. @@.player;"I didn't expect myself to join the fashion club, but the opportunities it provides are actually really cool."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"The Yearbook Club,"@@ you respond, swallowing a bite of your eggs. @@.player;"I think it'll be a really good experience to make the yearbook in my senior year."@@ <</if>>\ @@.boy;"That's great to hear, $name,"@@ your dad says, looking pleasantly surprised. @@.boy;"I hope you enjoy the club, trying new things is what this year should be about. I know I haven't been around as much as I should have, but I'd love to hear more about it. Maybe we can grab something to eat and spend some time together, just the two of us."@@ Your dad's tone softens considerably, and it's clear he's genuinely making an effort to connect. This feels new to you, as until now, it seemed he was just going through the motions of being a father. You appreciate the attention, but another part of you feels a little unsure. @@.lily;"Wow, you're actually doing something exciting,"@@ Lily leans over her plate with a grin. @@.lily;"The mall and a school club, it's all so exciting. Who knows, maybe you'll become a social butterfly."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, don't expect anything,"@@ you roll your eyes. @@.player;"Sorry that I'm not the super popular older brother that you wanted."@@ @@.boy;"Listen, I know things have been different this year,"@@ your dad steps back in. @@.boy;"I just want to let you know I'm here if you ever want to talk about anything. School, friends, whatever's on your mind. It's not just about grades and college. I'm trying to do better for you two."@@ <<elseif $d6dad is 1>>\ @@.player;"Oh well, same old, same old,"@@ you shrug and continue eating, not really wanting to have a serious conversation. The reply is almost automatic, the kind of response you've given so many times in the past. @@.boy;"Same old, huh?"@@ your dad frowns, a flicker of hurt in his eyes. It's clear he's disappointed by your response, but he does his best not to let it show too much. @@.boy;"I guess that's not necessarily a bad thing. At least you're not dealing with any drama, huh?"@@ Silence fills the room as you remain focused on your breakfast, not giving much away. Your dad chuckles lightly, in his best attempt to lighten the mood, but it's clear the conversation has run out of steam already. <<if $feminineLooks > 9>>\ @@.lily;"I don't know about things being the same old for you, $name,"@@ Lily interjects, filling the tense silence. @@.lily;"You never used to care about how you look, but you've been different lately. Who knows, things might be changing up for my loser brother."@@ <<else>>\ @@.lily;"Maybe things are the same old, you still look the same as always, $name,"@@ Lily interjects, filling the tense silence. @@.lily;"My loser brother never changes, how sad."@@ <</if>>\ @@.girl;"Lily, don't call your brother a loser,"@@ your mom steps in, trying to smooth things over. Your dad's attempt at giving you attention ends there, and you wonder if you should've said anything differently. <<elseif $d6dad is 2>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Well, anything I say wouldn't be nearly as interesting as hearing about Lily's interesting life,"@@ you say with a sly grin, turning the spotlight toward your younger sister. It's a move you've mastered over the years, as it allows you to not talk about yourself while getting to tease Lily. You know she loves the attention anyway. @@.lily;"Come on, my life is so interesting compared to you, $name,"@@ Lily perks up. @@.lily;"I can't believe nobody is interested in my amazing life."@@ @@.boy;"Well, Lily's always got something going on,"@@ your dad says. @@.boy;"But I'm curious about how things are going for you, $name. I know school can be a lot to handle sometimes, and I'm always here if you need to chat."@@ An awkward silence fills the room as you don't respond to your dad. You just continue poking at your breakfast. @@.lily;"Well, since everyone's so curious, I'm doing fantastic, as usual,"@@ Lily boasts, giving you yet another opportunity to deflect the spotlight to Lily. The conversation shifts away from you, although your dad gives you a lingering stare of disappointment. <<else>>\ <<set $dadRelo -= 5>>\ @@.player;"I don't really want to talk about it,"@@ you say, feeling a pang of frustration. The stress from the curse looming in the background, the pressure from the changes you've been experiencing, and the irritation from your dad's attempt to dig into your life all make your temper short. You turn back to your breakfast, intentionally focusing on cutting your toast. @@.boy;"Oh..."@@ your dad says, taken aback. His face is a mix of surprise and disappointment, and he looks away from you while shifting uncomfortably. @@.boy;"Alright then."@@ @@.girl;"You know, $name's always been a little independent,"@@ your mom steps in, picking up on the tension. @@.girl;"I think he just needs a little breathing room."@@ After some more awkward silence passes, conversation resumes, although your dad is clearly trying to respect your space now. You're just glad you don't have to deal with it for now. <</if>>\ <<button "Finish up breakfast" "Day 6 - 4">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 6>>\ You finish up breakfast, shoving the last of the eggs into your mouth. You dismiss yourself from the table and make your way back to your room. You think about what you should do this weekend, considering there's a ton you can do with your time. You look out your room's window to look at the city of Cedarbrook. It was home. You've lived here ever since you were a kid, but you haven't explored the city as much as you could have. You could spend the weekend doing that. You could also call Samantha and Luke, and get a hangout prepared. The local gym was always waiting for you to get a workout in. You could, of course, just do the lazy thing and stay at home. The final option was to try and somehow find Aurora after the mysterious thing she said to you in the hallway. There was a good chance she could know something. <div class="note">You can do three out of the five activities this Saturday.</div>\ <<set $d6activities to 0>>\ <<set $d6option to false>>\ <<set $d6option1 to false>>\ <<set $d6option2 to false>>\ <<set $d6option3 to false>>\ <<set $d6option4 to false>>\ \ <<button "Go explore the town" "Activity - Explore">><</button>> <<button "Go call Samantha and Luke" "Activity - Call">><</button>> <<button "Go to the gym" "Activity - Gym">><</button>> <<button "Stay at home" "Activity - Home">><</button>> <<button "Go and try to find Aurora" "Activity - Find">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> After wrapping up your morning, you feel a sense of fulfillment. You find yourself back in your room in the afternoon, stretched out on your bed. <<if $plushie is true>>You hug your favorite plushie, $plushieName as you roll around the bed. <</if>>The warmth of morning lingers on your mind as the sun begins to set, your room becoming darker and darker. You finish up some schoolwork and spend some time relaxing, considering you were busy the whole morning. Although you had two months of free time over the summer just a week ago, it's nice to have a day off after the hectic week you had. After a quick glance at the time, you realize you have a few hours left before you head off to bed. You rub your chin as you think about what you should do before you wrap up your Saturday. This is soon answered for you though, as Lily bursts into your room. @@.player;"What's up?"@@ you ask. @@.lily;"Looks like Mom and Dad want to have a movie night,"@@ Lily says, leaning on your doorframe. @@.lily;"Dad's really trying to get closer to us, I guess he feels bad."@@ @@.player;"I'm not even in the mood for a movie,"@@ you groan, looking up at the ceiling. @@.lily;"Too bad, you have to come in five minutes, they even have the popcorn ready."@@ @@.player;"Fine, give me a second,"@@ you say, sitting up in your bed. <<button "Make your way to the living room" "Day 6 - 6">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-livingroomn.png"> Everything is set up for the movie night, with popcorn on the table and everything you need for an entertaining time. @@.boy;"Hey you two!"@@ your dad says, bringing over a hot dog from the grill outside. @@.boy;"Come on, everything's ready!"@@ @@.player;"This actually seems really nice,"@@ you murmur, pretty impressed. @@.girl;"Sit down, we're watching //The Princess Diaries//,"@@ your mom brings over some nachos with a bunch of cheese. @@.lily;"Who selected this movie?"@@ Lily furrows her eyebrows. @@.boy;"I did!"@@ your dad says. @@.lily;"Dad, do you think I'm still twelve?"@@ Lily asks, seeming a little offended by your father's choice. @@.boy;"O-Oh I'm sorry, I thought it would be a fun family movie to watch,"@@ your dad's face falls a little. @@.lily;"It's fine,"@@ Lily responds. You all get ready and your dad turns out the lights and makes his way over to the couch as the film starts. You've watched this movie before as a kid, but you don't quite remember much about it. It starts with this girl, Mia, who's this complete loser. @@.lily;"Oh my god, it's you, $name!"@@ your sister says, giggling. @@.player;"Projecting much?"@@ you quickly respond. @@.lily;"You always say that,"@@ Lily pouts. @@.lily;"Be more creative."@@ The movie continues, and it turns out she's actually the sole heir to a small European kingdom, and that she will become a princess. She gets a makeover and goes from a frizzy-haired mess into a princess. You watch her transformation from an awkward high schooler into a posed, graceful princess. It's not just her physical appearance either, she learns a lot about herself as well. After the makeover, she looks in the mirror and sees herself changed. She's unsure of who she's become and is trying to figure out who she is now. <<button "You relate to her a lot" "Day 6 - 7">>\<<set $d6relate to true>>\<<trackChoice "D6_princess_bride_relate" true "story">><</button>> <<button "You don't really relate to her" "Day 6 - 7">>\<<set $d6relate to false>>\<<trackChoice "D6_princess_bride_relate" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-livingroomn.png"> <<if $d6relate is true>>\ <<set $nextScene to "Day 6 - Bathroom">>\ <<if $acceptance > 9>>\ You can't help but feel a deep connection. You realize you're also learning who you are after your transformation and are starting to accept who you are now. \ <<else>>\ You can't help but feel a deep connection. You realize you're also learning who you are after your transformation and are unsure about your identity. \ <</if>>\ Your gaze lingers on Mia, a sense of understanding blooming inside you. You suddenly feel a strange chill running down your spine. You realize what'll happen, you're going to transform. @@.player;"I have to go to the bathroom,"@@ you say, quickly excusing yourself. @@.player;"Be right back."@@ @@.boy;"Oh, do you want us to pause the movie for you?"@@ your dad asks. @@.player;"It's fine!"@@ you yell, running to the bathroom. <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>> <<else>>\ You don't really relate to her, despite your curse. <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - 8">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<if $d6relate is true>>\ You finish up the movie, making sure to hide in the dark and make your way back to your room. You feel a little nauseous, having devoured hot dogs, nachos, and popcorn. \ <<else>>\ You finish up the movie, enjoying the experience, and make your way back to your room. You feel very full, having devoured hot dogs, nachos, and popcorn. \ <</if>>\ You lie down on your bed and fall asleep, nervous about what Sunday has to hold. <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> You wonder what you should do next. <<if ($d6option is false) and ($d6activities < 3)>>\ <<button "Go explore the town" "Activity - Explore">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if ($d6option1 is false) and ($d6activities < 3)>>\ <<button "Go call Samantha and Luke" "Activity - Call">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if ($d6option2 is false) and ($d6activities < 3)>>\ <<button "Go to the gym" "Activity - Gym">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if ($d6option3 is false) and ($d6activities < 3)>>\ <<button "Stay at home" "Activity - Home">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if ($d6option4 is false) and ($d6activities < 3)>>\ <<button "Go and try to find Aurora" "Activity - Find">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $d6activities > 2>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 6 - 5">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 7>>\ Your eyes flutter open, and you can't help but feel relieved that the insistent blare of the alarm is missing. Birds chirp and sunlight streams in through the curtains, it feels picturesque, an ideal morning. You stretch, lifting your arms above your head, letting your muscles rest. There's a knock at the door, and before you can answer, your sister pokes her head in. <<if $lilyRelo > 32>>\ @@.lily;"Morning, $name,"@@ Lily says, a smile on her face. @@.player;"Hey, Lily,"@@ you reply. <<if $feminineLooks > 19>>\ @@.lily;"Hmm,"@@ Lily stares at your face, her face morphing into a frown. @@.lily;"You know, you can tell me if something's going on with you."@@ @@.player;"Huh?"@@ you can't help but freeze. @@.lily;"You look so different, I tried to brush it off, but looking at you..."@@ she trails off. <<button "Tell Lily the truth" "Day 7 - 2">>\<<set $d7tellLily to true>>\<<trackChoice "D7_tell_lily" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Brush it off" "Day 7 - 2">>\<<set $d7tellLily to false>>\<<trackChoice "D7_tell_lily" false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.lily;"You've been acting really different lately,"@@ Lily frowns. @@.lily;"Are you alright?"@@ <<button "Tell Lily the truth" "Day 7 - 2">>\<<set $d7tellLily to true>>\<<trackChoice "D7_tell_lily" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Brush it off" "Day 7 - 2">>\<<set $d7tellLily to false>>\<<trackChoice "D7_tell_lily" false "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ @@.lily;"Morning, loser,"@@ Lily says, an unreadable expression on her face. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you reply. <<if $feminineLooks > 19>>\ @@.lily;"Hmm,"@@ Lily stares at your face, her face morphing into a frown. @@.lily;"What the hell is going on with you?"@@ @@.player;"Huh?"@@ you can't help but freeze. @@.lily;"You look so different, I tried to brush it off, but looking at you..."@@ she trails off. <<button "Tell Lily the truth" "Day 7 - 2">>\<<set $d7tellLily to true>>\<<trackChoice "D7_tell_lily" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Brush it off" "Day 7 - 2">>\<<set $d7tellLily to false>>\<<trackChoice "D7_tell_lily" false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.lily;"You've been acting really different lately,"@@ Lily frowns. @@.lily;"What the hell is going on with you?"@@ <<button "Tell Lily the truth" "Day 7 - 2">>\<<set $d7tellLily to true>>\<<trackChoice "D7_tell_lily" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Brush it off" "Day 7 - 2">>\<<set $d7tellLily to false>>\<<trackChoice "D7_tell_lily" false "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

<<set $top to 3>>\ <<set $pants to 2>> <<set $shoes to 0>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ You dry off from the bath, making sure there isn't a speck of water left on your body. As the hot air from the dryer hits your hair, you can't stop thinking about the curse. What exactly was going on and why did she cast the curse on you? The decision to visit Madame Serena again weighs on you heavily, but you just have to go back and speak to her again. If anyone had answers about what was happening to you, it would be her. You slip a hoodie on over your head and leave your house as the sun begins to set. The autumn air had a sharp bite, but it was invigorating in a strange way. You push forward, navigating through your city to the Autumn Festival. The festival grounds were no longer bustling with people. Instead, it was completely quiet, the remnants of the event being packed away. An eery silence is left. You make your way over to Madame Serena's tent as your breath mists in front of you. You approach the spot where her tent had stood and your heart sinks. There was nothing there but an empty clearing. As drawn by instinct though, your eyes catch a faint glow in the distance. You follow the light, pushing through bushes and branches, until you stumble into a small, makeshift encampment. Madame Serena's tent was there. You take a deep breath and step closer. The tent's flap rustles slightly even though there was no wind. You swallow hard, the knot in your stomach tightening. You knew one thing for certain: you had to face this, no matter how much it scared you. With one glance at the fading light of the evening sky, you step forward, pull back the tent flap, and enter. <<button "Meet Madame Serena" "Day 7 - 11">><</button>>

Madame Serena's tent is just as you remember it being. Deep violet drapes swallow the candlelight, casting restless shadows that dance along the walls. The air is thick with incense, a heady mix of spice and something sweet—like crushed roses steeped in honey. It clings to your skin and sinks into your lungs, making the world outside feel distant. And then there's her. She reclines behind the table draped in silk and gold that shimmer brighter than the stars. Deep purple fabric flows over her curves, clinging in places where they shouldn't. A golden chain rests against the bare expanse of her collarbone, dipping low. It draws attention to her chest, barely contained by the bejeweled top she has on. Every gentle breath she takes makes the delicate chains adorning her body shift ever so slightly, catching the light and demanding you look. But it's her eyes that snare you completely, violet, darkened by kohl, and framed by thick lashes. She watches you like she already knows why you're here. Like she already has the answer to the question you haven't even asked. @@.serena;"Sit, $name,"@@ she purrs, her voice smooth as silk with the faintest trace of amusement curling at the edges. She gestures to the chair across from her, wrist adorned with golden bangles that jingle softly with movement. @@.serena;"You've returned."@@ Her full lips curve slightly behind the veil, a secret smile meant just for you. \ \ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ @@.serena;"Much has changed since we last spoke."@@ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 19>>\ @@.serena;"Quite a bit has changed since we last spoke."@@ <<else>>\ @@.serena;"Not much has changed since we last spoke."@@ <</if>>\ Your throat feels dry. You force yourself to move, to sit, but even that feels like a small surrender beneath her gaze. @@.player;"I needed to talk to you,"@@ you finally manage to say, though your voice comes out softer than you expected. @@.serena;"Good,"@@ she murmurs, folding her hands atop the open book before her. She taps lightly against the aged parchment. @@.serena;"Magic is not meant to be faced in isolation. Let us see how your path has unfolded since we last met."@@ The candle on the table flickers, its flame dancing in her eyes. The tent seems to shrink around you, the outside world disappearing. She studies you in silence, and for a second, all you can hear is the faint rustle of her silk garments as she shifts, the whisper of gold against skin. Her gaze drags over you like she's savoring something. Then she leans forward, just slightly, and the scent of her—exotic, warm, rich like spiced wine—fills your senses. @@.serena;"Tell me, how do you feel?"@@ Madame Serena asks. The question lingers as your pulse quickens. @@.serena;"You carry much within you, child,"@@ she continues, tilting her head, her gaze piercing. A strand of dark hair slips over her shoulder, brushing against the soft swell of her breast. @@.serena;"I see fear, but also curiosity. Conflict, but also desire."@@ Your fingers tighten against your lap. @@.serena;"This is why you have returned, isn't it?"@@ she whispers. @@.serena;"To understand what you are becoming."@@ The air is thick between you. @@.serena;"Let us see where this journey has led you, $name."@@ As her gaze gleams with something unreadable, you realize: there's no hiding from the truth. Not from her. Certainly not from yourself. <<set $serenaEvaluationCG to true>>\ <<set $serenaCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $serenaCGhairtie to $hairtie>>\ <<set $serenaCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $serenaCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $serenaCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ \ <<include "CG_SerenaEvaluation">>\ <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ The following passage will be based on the choices you've made on your journey so far. </div>\ <<button "Get Madame Serena's Evaluation" "Day 7 - 12">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/serena-tent.png"> <<set $d7serenaEvaluation to 0>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 19 and $acceptance > 14>>\ <<set $d7serenaEvaluation to 1>>\ <<grantAchievement "SerenaEvaluation1">>\ @@.serena;"Ah,"@@ Madame Serena begins, her tone like a soft embrace. A smile grows on her face, her gaze warm and filled with a quiet satisfaction. @@.serena;"You've begun to see the beauty in the gift I gave you. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak—there's a balance now. The harmony between body and spirit grows stronger each day."@@ You feel an unexpected surge of pride at her words. @@.player;"I didn't think I'd ever feel okay with this,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"But now? It's starting to make sense. Like this is who I'm supposed to be."@@ @@.serena;"Magic rarely lies, child,"@@ she says, her approval clear. @@.serena;"I didn't choose you at random, nor did I force you down this path. It saw what was already within you and brought it to the surface. Tell me, when you look at your reflection now, what do you see?"@@ @@.player;"I see someone new,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"Someone I didn't think I'd ever be. I kind of like it though."@@ @@.serena;"The hardest part of any transformation is not the change itself, but the fear of letting go,"@@ the seer nods. @@.serena;"Here you are, not just surviving, but thriving. Tell me, $name, what does this new part of you want? What dreams does it whisper to you now?"@@ You hadn't let yourself think too far ahead before. Everything had been so immediate and overwhelming, and all you could do was focus on the now. But at this moment, with the changes feeling less like a curse and more like a guide, you could feel the inklings of something stirring. @@.player;"I don't know, but I think I'm ready to figure it out."@@ @@.serena;"Trust in yourself, in the magic, and in what's to come. Remember, transformation isn't just about changing what you are. It's about discovering who you've always been. Embrace it fully, and you'll find the world will begin to reflect a new kind of light."@@ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 19 and $acceptance < 15>>\ <<grantAchievement "SerenaEvaluation2">>\ @@.serena;"Ah,"@@ Madame Serena begins, her tone laced with both amusement and pity. @@.serena;"You wear the changes well, even if you refuse to let them settle into your heart."@@ Madame Serena's gaze lingers on you, her eyes tracing your changes. The undeniable femininity that had softened your features. You still have a stiff demeanor and tension in your shoulders that speaks volumes though. @@.player;"Look, I didn't ask for this, okay?"@@ you say firmly, your voice tinged with frustration. @@.player;"None of it. It's not me. It's just this curse messing with me."@@ Serena furrows her eyebrows, the jingle of her bracelets soft as she tilts her head. @@.serena;"Is it really?"@@ she asked, her voice almost teasing. @@.serena;"Look at yourself, $name. Look at the way the world has started to see you. Do you truly believe this is all the magic is doing? Or could it be that it's revealing something that was always there, just hidden away?"@@ @@.player;"I know who I am, lady,"@@ you snap, your jaw tightening. @@.player;"This isn't it."@@ Madame Serena sighs, shaking her head from side to side. @@.player;"I didn't choose this,"@@ you say, your stomach churning. @@.player;"I just want to feel normal again. Like myself."@@ <<if $transgender < 10>>\ <<set $d7serenaEvaluation to 2.1>>\ Madame Serena's eyes sweep over you, her all-knowing smile flickering for a second. There was something about you that didn't align with her expectations. @@.serena;"This is... unusual,"@@ she murmurs, almost to herself. @@.serena;"The magic should resonate, should align with something deep within you. It shouldn't feel so foreign."@@ @@.player;"Guess your magic is wrong,"@@ you say, your tone cutting. @@.serena;"Sometimes, transformation magic doesn't just reflect who we are. It challenges us to confront what we fear, deny, or bury. You don't have to embrace the change, $name, but you do need to face it. Only then will the magic reveal its true purpose. I saw something in you, $name. It may not feel right at the moment, but it isn't without meaning."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $d7serenaEvaluation to 2.2>>\ @@.serena;"Denial is a heavy burden to carry,"@@ she says. @@.serena;"I understand that it weighs down the spirit and blinds the mind. Tell me, young one, how long do you intend to fight against what's already happening? What will you do when you look in the mirror and realize that this fight is only with yourself?"@@ <</if>>\ <<elseif $feminineLooks < 20 and $acceptance > 14>>\ <<set $d7serenaEvaluation to 3>>\ <<grantAchievement "SerenaEvaluation3">>\ Madame Serena observes you, her piercing gaze sweeping over you. Your features still leaned toward your original masculinity, but there was something about you that had softened in presence. The way you carried yourself, your subtle gestures, even the tone of your voice as you greeted her. They all hint at someone who had embraced the changes within. @@.serena;"$name,"@@ Madame Serena says, her voice rich with intrigue. @@.serena;"You've come far, haven't you?"@@ You smile slightly, a light blush creeping up your cheeks. @@.player;"I guess you could say that,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm figuring stuff out."@@ @@.serena;"Figuring things out is the heart of transformation. Tell me, how has it felt? Your energy has shifted considerably. Your spirit is softer, more open."@@ You nod slowly, resting your elbows on your knees as you think about how to respond to her question. @@.player;"It's weird,"@@ you finally say. @@.player;"I thought that this curse was about physically turning me into a girl. But funnily enough, it's been the small things. The way I talk to people, how I see the world. I don't hate it, honestly."@@ @@.serena;"You've embraced the changes within, even if you resist the surface,"@@ Madame Serena leans forward and studies you with interest. @@.serena;"That's rare, $name. Most people focus on what they see rather than what they feel."@@ @@.player;"I suppose I'm the exception,"@@ you chuckle. @@.player;"It's not like I'm avoiding the physical stuff on purpose, I'm just going with my own pace."@@ @@.serena;"The magic is respecting your boundaries. It's sensing that you've embraced enough to grow without forcing more upon you."@@ You frown slightly, considering her words. @@.player;"So, what happens now? Do I stay in this in-between state?"@@ @@.serena;"Only you can decide,"@@ the seer replies, her tone gentle but firm. @@.serena;"The spell is not static. It will respond to your choices, your willingness to explore. If you feel comfortable as you are, it could pause. But should you choose to delve deeper, it will answer. Remember the magic isn't here to define you—it's here to reveal you."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $d7serenaEvaluation to 4>>\ <<grantAchievement "SerenaEvaluation4">>\ Madame Serena's expression shifts subtly as her gaze sweeps over you. Your features remained mostly unchanged and your demeanor hasn't changed either. @@.serena;"I'll admit, you've surprised me,"@@ she says, her voice softer than usual. @@.player;"Yeah, well, I don't know what you expected,"@@ you say, frowning. @@.player;"This curse hasn't done much except make my life more complicated."@@ The seer blinks, momentarily at a loss for words. @@.serena;"Complicated?"@@ she asks. @@.serena;"You haven't changed?"@@ @@.player;"Not really,"@@ you shake your head. @@.player;"There have been moments, but I'm keeping it together. Whatever this thing is, I'm not letting it take over."@@ @@.serena;"The spell should've begun reshaping you by now,"@@ Madame Serena studies you closely, as though searching for some hidden clue. @@.serena;"If you're still resisting this strongly, the magic should be pushing back. But it looks like it hasn't touched you much at all."@@ @@.player;"You're the one who cursed me, shouldn't you know what's going on?"@@ @@.serena;"The magic is meant to work in harmony with the person it touches,"@@ the seer says, a confused expression on her face. @@.serena;"You're holding the spell at bay, somehow. Not just physically or mentally, but entirely."@@ @@.player;"Maybe that's because I don't want this,"@@ you snap, your voice rising. @@.player;"I never asked for this. Never. I already know who I am."@@ @@.serena;"For now, it seems the spell is content to lie dormant,"@@ Madame Serena says, letting out a weary sigh. @@.serena;"Whether you embrace it or resist, the magic will remain a part of you."@@ <</if>>\ <<trackChoice "D7_serena_eval" $d7serenaEvaluation "eval">> <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 13">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/serena-tent.png"> @@.player;"About breaking this curse though, how would I do that?"@@ you ask quietly. @@.serena;"The curse isn't indefinite,"@@ Madame Serena's eyes bore into you. Her gaze was steady, almost solemn. @@.serena;"By the time you graduate high school—by the end of your senior year—it will solidify. Whatever changes you've undergone, whether you've embraced them or fought them, will become permanent."@@ @@.player;"Permanent?"@@ you whisper. @@.serena;"The magic works within a timeline,"@@ the seer says, her tone unyielding. @@.serena;"It adapts, it shifts, it waits—but only for so long. If you haven't found a way to break the curse by then, you will remain as you are."@@ @@.player;"You're telling me I have a deadline to figure this all out then?"@@ you ask, a chill running down your spine. @@.serena;"Exactly,"@@ Madame Serena nods. @@.serena;"Breaking the curse will require understanding its purpose and making peace with what it's shown you. You'll have to confront it, $name, one way or another."@@ Your mind races as you realize every choice you make, every moment of resistance or acceptance, every transformation you'll undergo—it all seems to hold much more weight. @@.player;"Why are you telling me this now?"@@ you ask, almost wary. @@.serena;"Because you deserve to know the stakes. Deep down, I believe you can face this."@@ @@.player;"Can't you just break the curse for me?"@@ you \ \ <<if $acceptance > 14>>\ ask. <<else>>\ plead. <</if>>\ \ @@.player;"You're the one who put this curse on me in the first place. You started this entire thing!"@@ Madame Serena shakes her head. @@.serena;"You think it's that simple, don't you?"@@ Madame Serena says with a sigh. @@.serena;"Magic doesn't work like flicking a light switch, child. The spell I placed wasn't random, nor was it a punishment. It's woven into you now, like threads in a tapestry. Pulling at a string would unravel far more than just the curse."@@ @@.player;"So I have to deal with this curse until the end of the year?"@@ you ask. @@.serena;"Think of it this way, $name,"@@ Madame Serena begins. @@.serena;"The curse isn't something to be erased. It's a reflection of your actions, your choices, your truths. Breaking it is about understanding why it happened and deciding what you're going to do with that knowledge. The magic is a mirror, young one. And mirrors don't lie, do they? It's showing you something about yourself. Whether you embrace it, reject it, or find a way to balance it, that's entirely up to you. But you are the key to breaking this curse, not me."@@ @@.player;"Okay then,"@@ you whisper, not quite knowing what more to say. You turn to leave, lingering near the exit. Your hand rests on the edge of the curtain as you think. @@.serena;"One last thing, $name,"@@ the seer calls out to you. \ \ <<if $upperControl is true>>\ @@.serena;"It seems you've already gained more control over the spell."@@ @@.player;"Oh, you could sense that?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"I talked to this girl at my school, she gave me more control over the curse."@@ @@.serena;"Yes, I'm well aware of Aurora,"@@ Madame Serena says, a faint smile on her face. @@.serena;"I believe you don't need more control over the curse for now."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $upperControl to true>>\ <<if $femineChanges > 5>>\ @@.serena;"You have transformed quite a few times, I'll grant you more control over the spell."@@ <<else>>\ @@.serena;"You haven't transformed much yet, but I'll grant you more control over the spell."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"More control?"@@ you ask, confused. @@.serena;"Oh, nothing,"@@ Madame Serena says, a faint smile on her face. @@.serena;"You'll know soon."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Go back home" "Day 7 - 14">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 0>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ You lie in your bed, staring at the ceiling as the dim glow of the desk lamp cast soft shadows across your room. Madame Serena's words echo in your mind like a constant loop. You think about one quote in particular that stands out to you. <<if $d7serenaEvaluation is 1>>\ @@.serena;"Embrace it fully, and you'll find the world will begin to reflect a new kind of light."@@ Her words linger, almost like a challenge. You thought about how your body had changed so much already. Your reflection in the mirror no longer matching the boy you used to know. Your face was softer now, more delicate. It was all undeniable. Madame Serena hadn't told you to fight it or hide it, instead she spoke of embracing it. You pull the covers closer, as if shielding yourself from the weight of your own thoughts. It felt like the world was shifting around you, like the curse was pushing you to become someone else. You didn't feel lost though, or like you didn't want the changes. If anything, you liked the changes. Looking back on your journey, you realize something had changed deep inside of you. There was fear, yes. But there was also an undeniable curiosity. You've been leaning into the transformations, accepting it. Should you continue embracing it? What more could it reveal about yourself? Were you perhaps not the normal guy you always thought you were? Maybe it wasn't about the fear of losing who you were, but the possibility of becoming someone even better. <<elseif $d7serenaEvaluation is 2.1 or $d7serenaEvaluation is 2.2>>\ @@.serena;"You wear the changes well, even if you refuse to let them settle into your heart."@@ The words echo in your head, lingering like an unanswered question. Your reflection in the mirror was becoming harder to ignore with each passing day. Your face was still familiar, but noticeably softer. They'd taken on a gentler contour. Despite all that though, you just couldn't bring yourself to accept it. You didn't want to. Not when everything you had ever known, everything that had ever defined you, was now being shaken apart. The curse was there, but so was your refusal to let it take over. You were still $name, the boy you'd always been. The boy who just lived a normal life without the need to change. You couldn't be someone else, not just like that. You pull the blanket up closer to your chin. Was the curse not just about physical change? Could it be about accepting something deeper within you that you never even considered? You weren't ready for that though. Not yet, at least. You couldn't just let go of everything you believe in. Your heart, the sense of who you are, was still firmly rooted in the person you'd always been. For now, at least, that was enough. <<elseif $d7serenaEvaluation is 3>>\ @@.serena;"Remember the magic isn't here to define you—it's here to reveal you."@@ Her words hang in the air, warm and heavy, as if they were meant to unlock something inside you. The thought of it gnaws at you, something about it feeling true. You hadn't changed much physically, your body still holding the sharp angles of your old self. There was a quiet femininity in you, but it wasn't enough to make you feel like someone else. Not entirely, anyway. Still, there was a sense that your transformation was different. It wasn't about becoming something unrecognizable; it was more like peeling back layers to reveal something that had always been there but was buried beneath the surface. The more you thought about it, the more that idea started to make sense. You turn onto your side, your graze drifting to the window. Moonlight casts faint shadows on your walls, and think about how you were horrified by the curse. Fighting against them was the knee-jerk reaction to protect the parts of you that felt safe and familiar. But maybe, just maybe, that wasn't the right approach. Maybe it was time to stop fighting it. <<else>>\ @@.serena;"Whether you embrace it or resist, the magic will remain a part of you."@@ A part of you bristle at her words. Why should you have to deal with this? You didn't ask for this. You didn't want it. Everything about the curse felt wrong—like they didn't belong to you. You let out a frustrated sigh. You knew who you were, a regular guy trying to figure out his life. But now, everything felt off. It was like your reflection in the mirror shifted without your permission. No matter how much you rejected it, how much you fought to stay the same, the curse would linger. It wasn't something you could shake off, the curse was a part of you now. You didn't know what that meant, and that gnawed at you. As you stare out the window, the moonlight casting faint shadows on your walls, you make a silent promise to yourself. You would resist, fight, do whatever it would take to hold onto who you are. You just hoped that would be enough. <</if>>\ <<button "Drift off to sleep" "Day 7 - 15">><</button>>

You find yourself walking through a dense, foggy forest. The air is heavy with mist and the path you're walking on seems to stretch endlessly. Trees rise around you like towering figures, their trunks thick and gnarled and branches obscuring the sky. The forest feels vast, its silence broken only by the soft rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. You take a deep breath, the coolness of the air filling your lungs. The weight of the world feels distant for just a moment. Here, it's as if time has stopped entirely. As you venture deeper, the path beneath your feet becomes less clear, obscured by the mist that clings to the ground. Fog swirls around you, creating a sense of isolation. There's an odd comfort in the quiet as if this place exists solely for you to explore your feelings. You hear the distant sound of a voice, soft and melodic, drifting through the air. @@.player;"Come closer,"@@ the voice beckons gently, like a whisper in the wind. Your heart quickens, and although you can't place where the voice is coming from, the pull to follow it is undeniable. You continue walking, the fog thinning as you move, and the air grows warmer. The path before you opens up into a small clearing, bathed in moonlight. There, standing in the center of the clearing is a figure. Her silhouette glows with an ethereal light, contrasting against the shadows of the forest. As you approach, the figure's features become clearer. You're finally able to make out what she looks like when— You freeze. The girl before you is not a stranger. She's a reflection of yourself, only in a form far more feminine than you've ever seen. Her face mirrors your own, but softer—more delicate. Her dark hair cascades down her back, shimmering like a river of starlight. She wears a flowing white dress made of some silken fabric that seems to dance with the breeze. She looks powerful, like a being that truly belongs to this otherworldly place. You feel a strange connection to her as if you've always known her. She steps toward you slowly, her movements graceful and fluid. @@.player;"$name,"@@ she says, her voice soft, like the sound of a breeze through the trees. She extends her hand toward you, her palm open. You can sense she's offering something. An invitation. A chance to step forward into something unknown. @@.player;"I've been waiting for you."@@ Her eyes never leave yours as she waits for you to respond. The weight of your decision hangs in the air like a heavy fog. Your heart races and everything seems to fade away except for the girl in front of you. You feel the weight of everything you've been through. The changes, the transformations, and the uncertainty of it all. You can either step forward into the unknown with her or reject her offer. <<set $dreamMeetingCG to true>>\ <<include "CG_DreamMeeting">>\ <div class="note">This will have a major impact on your transgender stat.</div>\ <<button "Accept the embrace" "Day 7 - 16">>\<<set $d7dreamOffer to true>>\<<trackChoice "D7_dream_accept" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Reject the embrace" "Day 7 - 16">>\<<set $d7dreamOffer to false>>\<<trackChoice "D7_dream_accept" false "story">><</button>>

<<if $d7dreamOffer is true>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender + 15, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender - 15, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "AcceptEmbrace">>\ You step forward, your heart pounding in your chest. Each step toward the girl feels both heavier and lighter at the same time. As you reach out to take her hand, the world around you seems to hold its breath. The moment your palms meet, a spark of energy courses through you. It's electric as if you've tapped into a force far greater than yourself. The girl's smile deepens, her gaze steady and filled with warmth. @@.player;"You've made the right choice,"@@ she says softly, her voice carrying a tone of reassurance that seems to echo through the entire forest. The gentle, soothing heat from her hands moves up your arms and through your chest. It's not just physical; it's emotional—a sense of belonging and clarity wash over you. The fog around the two of you seems to lift, thinning and swirling around to reveal a forest that's transformed. The trees are no longer foreboding and dark. Instead, their branches are adorned with soft cherry blossoms that glow faintly in the moonlight. The ground beneath your feet feels alive, dotted with luminescent flowers. As the girl gently guides you further into the clearing, her dress trailing behind her like liquid light, you can't help but smile. @@.player;"You've always had this within you,"@@ the girl says, noticing your reaction. @@.player;"This is not a transformation, really. It's more like an unveiling. You're stepping into who you truly are."@@ Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You've spent so long doubting, yet everything feels right in this moment. @@.player;"Will it be easy?"@@ you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. @@.player;"No,"@@ the girl replies, shaking her head gently. @@.player;"But it will be worth it. The world will begin to see you as you are. Some will understand, and others won't. But this journey is yours, $name. Embrace it fully, and you'll find the light you've been searching for."@@ Her words settle into your heart, and you nod. You feel a sense of resolve growing within you. The girl steps back, her form beginning to fade. Her smile remains steady, and she leaves you with some words before she departs. @@.player;"You've taken the first step. Trust yourself, and trust the magic. It's a part of you now."@@ She disappears, and the clearing brightens momentarily. The light cascades over you, filling you with a sense of peace. When the light fades, you find yourself lying in your bed, your heart still racing. The feeling of her hands linger like a phantom touch. The room is quiet, but you feel the change coursing within you. You were going to embrace the spell. <<else>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender - 15, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender + 15, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "RejectEmbrace">>\ You hesitate, your feet rooted to the mossy ground as you stare at the girl. Her outstretched hand beckons, yet every fiber of your being screams at you to pull back. Something about this feels like too much. The warmth radiating from her is inviting, but you fear what it might mean to step into that light. @@.player;"No, I can't,"@@ you say, your voice trembling. @@.player;"This isn't me."@@ The girl tilts her head, her expression shifting to an understanding sadness. @@.player;"Are you sure?"@@ she asks softly. @@.player;"I'm not ready for this,"@@ you say, your tone firmer. @@.player;"Maybe I never will be. I just want things to go back to the way they were."@@ The girl sighs, and the light around her begins to dim. The forest responds, and the forest gets darker. Everything becomes cold, and the girl lowers her hand. @@.player;"I understand, $name,"@@ the girl says, her eyes welling with tears. @@.player;"I guess the choice is yours."@@ The light around her dissipates into the shadows of the forest. You feel a chill settle over you as the forest grows empty. The girl disappears completely, and the forest around you begins to blur. The moss and the trees melt away into darkness. When you open your eyes, you're back in your bed. Your room is bathed in the faint glow of morning light filtering in through the window. You sit up slowly, the phantom sensation of the girl's presence lingering in your mind. The weight of your decision settles heavily on your chest. @@.player;"I'll figure this out on my own terms,"@@ you declare, your jaw set. You were going to fight the curse. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Week 1 - End">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<if $d7tellLily is true>>\ You hesitate, not knowing how to respond. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you decide to tell Lily the truth. If anyone could handle the truth, it would be your little sister. @@.player;"Okay, look,"@@ you begin, sitting down on the edge of your bed. @@.player;"You have to promise me that you won't laugh, okay?"@@ <<if $lilyRelo > 32>>\ @@.lily;"Of course,"@@ Lily says. <<else>>\ @@.lily;"Hmm, fine,"@@ Lily says. <</if>>\ @@.player;"There's this thing happening to me,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's a little complicated, and I wouldn't believe what I'm about to say if I were in your position. But I'm changing."@@ @@.lily;"Changing?"@@ Lily asks, furrowing her eyebrows. @@.lily;"Changing how?"@@ You explain the curse and everything that's happened thus far. You stumble over your words as you try to make sense of the curse without sounding like you're crazy. As you speak, Lily's expression goes from amused skepticism to wide-eyed disbelief. @@.lily;"Wait,"@@ she says, pacing around your room. @@.lily;"So you're telling me you're turning into a girl? That's a lot... Are you okay with this happening? I mean, you're not freaking out or anything?"@@ The question hangs in the air, heavy with implications. <<button "Tell her you kind of like it" "Day 7 - Tell">>\<<set $d7okay to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Tell her you don't mind" "Day 7 - Tell">>\<<set $d7okay to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Tell her you hate it" "Day 7 - Tell">>\<<set $d7okay to 2>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ @@.player;"I think you're imagining things,"@@ you say, forcing a casual laugh. @@.player;"I just woke up, so maybe that's why I look a little off."@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, sure,"@@ Lily says, clearly not convinced. @@.lily;"I don't know how sleep makes your eyes bigger."@@ @@.player;"It's nothing, okay."@@ @@.lily;"Fine, whatever,"@@ Lily shrugs, not caring enough to dig deeper. She leaves your room, and you can't help but shake off the fact that she isn't convinced. <<button "Decide what to do" "Day 7 - 3">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> You decide that today wouldn't be a bad day to explore more of the curse. Whether you liked it or not, you were already cursed. You reach out and touch your hair, wondering if that would be a decent thing to experiment with first. <<if $hairProg is 0>>\ There haven't been any changes to your hair yet, and it's still the same old hair you've had for a while now. Still, it wouldn't hurt to play with it a little. <<elseif $hairProg is 1>>\ Your hair hasn't grown in length but it's become significantly softer and silkier. It wouldn't hurt to play around with it a little. <<elseif $hairProg is 2>>\ Your hair has grown in length and is a lot softer than it was before. It's actually been bothering you a little, getting in your face. It wouldn't hurt to learn how to style it differently. <<else>>\ Your hair has grown in length significantly and is a lot softer than it was before. It's actually been bothering you a little, oftentimes getting in your face. It wouldn't hurt to learn how to at least tie it back into a ponytail. <</if>>\ <<if $d7tellLily is true>>\ <<button "Ask your sister for help with hair" "Day 7 - Hair Sister">>\<<set $d7hairsister to true>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Try and work your hair yourself" "Day 7 - Hair Solo">>\<<set $d7hairsister to false>>\<</button>> <<button "Just leave your hair as it is" "Day 7 - 4">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $nude to 2>>\ <<set $nudebutton to 2>>\ Having finished what you wanted to do with your hair in the morning, you decide to spend the afternoon taking a relaxing bath. It could help you unwind and clear your head. You gather your towels and change of clothes and step into the bathroom. You enter the bathroom, turn on the faucet, and let water flow into the bathtub. You swipe at the porcelain with a sponge to make sure it's clean before plugging the bathtub's drain. You turn around and rummage through the cabinet for something that could make the bath more enjoyable while the tub fills with water. You eventually find a bottle of lavender-scented bubble bath that Lily left behind. You hesitate a little, turning the bubble bath bottle around in your hands. <<button "Use the bubble bath" "Day 7 - 5">>\<<set $d7bubbleBath to true>>\<<trackChoice "D7_bubble_bath" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't use the bubble bath" "Day 7 - 5">>\<<set $d6relate to false>>\<<trackChoice "D7_bubble_bath" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<if $d7bubbleBath is true>>\ <<set $nextScene to "Day 7 - Bathroom">>\ You shrug your shoulders, deciding to use the bubble bath as curiosity gets the better of you. You unscrew the cap of the lavender-scented bubble bath and hover your nose over the bottle's opening, breathing in the soothing aroma. You feel a little calmer and pour a generous amount under the running water. As the bubbles rise, filling the tub, you feel a strange feeling burn through you. <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>> <<else>>\ You shake your head, opting to keep things simple. You adjust the water's heat and wait as the tub fills. <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 6">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<if $d7bubbleBath is true>>\ You slip into the bath, the warm water and soft bubbles surrounding you. You let out an involuntary sigh of relief. The scent of lavender fills your senses, and you can feel the stress slipping away. \ <<else>>\ You slip into the bath, letting the warm water soothe you. The water wraps you in comfort as you lean back against the edge of the tub. \ <</if>>\ \ You close your eyes and slip deeper into the bath. You can't help but smile, enjoying the experience. The bath is almost meditative, allowing you some peace. After some time you open your eyes, feeling very refreshed. <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 7">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> You stand up after finishing bathing, ready to take a shower. You allow the water to drain and let the showerhead rain hot water down on you. You trace your skin and realize that it's \ \ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ a lot smoother than it was a week ago. \ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 19>> a little smoother than it was a week ago. \ <<else>>\ the same as it was a week ago. \ <</if>>\ \ You realize you have a decent amount of body hair too, especially on your legs and armpits. You look over to see a razor Lily left, and some shaving foam as well. An idea creeps into your mind, and you wonder what would happen if you shaved. You'd never done it before, but part of you was tempted to see what it would look like. <<button "Shave your body" "Day 7 - 8">>\<<set $d7shave to true>>\<<trackChoice "D7_shave" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide not to shave your body" "Day 7 - 8">>\<<set $d7shave to false>>\<<trackChoice "D7_shave" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<if $d7shave is true>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for a moment, staring at the razor. You pick it up, turning it around in your hands. The thought of shaving feels like stepping into unknown territory. You'd never had to shave before, as facial hair had been nonexistent and body hair was normal for a guy your age. Looking down at your legs and arms, you think to yourself. Is it time to embrace something new? With a quiet exhale, you start rubbing shaving foam on yourself. You never had much body hair, but it was still definitely there. After you finish with the foam, you grip the razor tightly and start shaving. You feel the cold steel against your skin as the razor glides over the surface of your skin. Small pieces of hair stick to the floor as you continue. Once you finish with your legs, you move onto your upper body. You move slowly across your armpit, making sure the razor doesn't nick you. The smoothness as you finish is undeniable. Your skin feels a lot smoother than what you're used to. You spend a few minutes just running your hands over your smooth body and rubbing your thighs together. As you're about to return to the shower, you suddenly feel an all-encompassing tingle through your entire body. <<set $nextScene to "Day 7 - Shave">>\ <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>> <<else>>\ You pause as you look down at the razor. The idea of shaving feels like crossing a line you're not sure if you're ready for. You shake your head and leave your legs and arms untouched. You lean back into the bathwater, convincing yourself that this was the right decision. <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 9">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<set $d7femLooks to $feminineLooks>>\ <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $nude to 0>>\ <<set $nudebutton to 0>>\ You step out of the shower, drying yourself off and putting on your clothes. You opt for a tank top and some shorts, wanting to be comfortable. \ <<if $d7shave is true>>\ As you dress, you notice how the fabric of your clothes feels different against your skin. It's softer, and you feel a little more feminine. <<else>>\ As you dress, you notice how the fabric of your clothes feels the same as always against your body hair. You look at the razor one last time, wondering if it would've been worth it to shave. <</if>>\ You look in the fogged mirror before you leave, making sure to get a good look at yourself. You realize that you look \ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ very androgynous. You could be seen as either gender. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 19>>\ like a feminine guy. <<else>>\ like a normal guy. <</if>>\ You step out of the bathroom with a towel, lazily wiping off any remaining beads of water. You're almost to your room when you see your mom. @@.girl;"Hey, $name,"@@ you hear her say. She inspects you, \ <<if ($feminineLooks > 39) or (($breastsProg > 1) and ($bind is false))>>\ <<set $afterEvent to "Day 7 - 10">>\ a frown growing on her face @@.girl;"Wait. I've been excusing it but you look way too different. You don't even look male anymore. What's going on?"@@ <<button "Talk to your mom" "Event - Mom Notice">><</button>> <<elseif $feminineLooks > 19>>\ a slight frown on her face. @@.girl;"You look a little different."@@ @@.player;"Oh, yeah,"@@ you say, your heart pounding. @@.player;"Just taking care of myself a little differently."@@ @@.girl;"Hmm, okay,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Just know that you can talk to me, okay?"@@ <<button "Go to your room" "Day 7 - 10">><</button>> <<else>>\ a smile on her face. @@.girl;"Hope you enjoyed your shower."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Mom,"@@ you say, smiling back. <<button "Go to your room" "Day 7 - 10">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> You gasp, realizing you just changed again. You didn't realize bubble baths were feminine. You sigh, were guys not allowed to have bubble baths? <<if $recentTransformation is "breasts1">>\ You look down, having just grown boobs. Boobs. On your body. You can't help but feel \ <<if $transgender > 4>>\ happy for some reason. You don't know why, but you do feel a little happy. <<else>>\ nervous. <</if>>\ You think they're small enough that nobody will notice them for now, but you don't know what you'll do if they grow further. You decide to leave that for later though. <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 6">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts2">>\ <<set $afterEvent to "Day 7 - 6">>\ You look down, realizing your boobs just grew. You gasp, realizing you can't hide them anymore. This is something you have to address. <<button "Address the issue" "Event - Breasts">><</button>> <<else>>\ You realize you just changed again, but luckily it's a part you can hide. You breathe a sigh of relief. <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 6">><</button>> <</if>>\

@@.lily;"Hmm, okay,"@@ Lily says as she studies your hair. She touches it, runs a brush through it, and runs her hand through the strands. @@.lily;"Your hair is long enough that I think you should learn how to tie it."@@ @@.player;"Tie my hair?"@@ you ask. @@.lily;"Yeah!"@@ Lily exclaims. @@.lily;"How have you even been eating or exercising?"@@ @@.player;"I've just kind of been toughing it out,"@@ you murmur, looking away in embarrassment. @@.lily;"Yeah, none of that anymore!"@@ Lily reaches into a shelf on her vanity and takes out a few hair ties. @@.lily;"You should choose from one of these."@@ <<button "Choose the simple elastic band" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 2 (Long)">>\<<set $d7hairtie to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Choose the simple ribbon" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 2 (Long)">>\<<set $d7hairtie to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Choose the bunny ears ribbon" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 2 (Long)">>\<<set $d7hairtie to 3>>\<</button>> <<button "Choose the scrunchie" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 2 (Long)">>\<<set $d7hairtie to 4>>\<</button>>

@@.lily;"Hmm, okay,"@@ Lily says as she studies your hair. She touches it, runs a brush through it, and runs her hand through the strands. @@.lily;"Your hair hasn't gotten any longer, I don't think you can learn how to tie it just yet."@@ @@.player;"Oh, okay,"@@ you say. Your hair hasn't grown in length, so it does make sense. @@.player;"Is there anything else I can do to make it neater then?"@@ Lily thinks for a few seconds, tapping her foot. @@.lily;"I can give you a hairpin for your bangs."@@ @@.player;"A hairpin?"@@ you ask, wondering how that would look on you. @@.lily;"Yeah!"@@ Lily goes to her vanity and takes out some hairpins from the shelf. @@.lily;"Just put two of them to keep your bangs held back and it'll look cute."@@ @@.player;"I guess I can try,"@@ you murmur, looking as your sister drops three pairs of hairpins in front of you. @@.lily;"All you have to do is choose a color,"@@ Lily informs you. <<button "Choose the violet hairpin" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 2 (Short)">>\<<set $d7hairpin to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Choose the white hairpin" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 2 (Short)">>\<<set $d7hairpin to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Choose the red hairpin" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 2 (Short)">>\<<set $d7hairpin to 3>>\<</button>>

<<set $hairStyle to 1>>\ @@.lily;"Okay, let's go with that,"@@ Lily says, picking up the \ \ <<if $d7hairtie is 1>>\ <<set $hairtie to 1>> simple elastic band. @@.lily;"This one is really simple, but everyone chooses it for a reason."@@ <<elseif $d7hairtie is 2>>\ <<set $hairtie to 2>> simple ribbon. @@.lily;"This one is a little girly, I'm surprised you chose it."@@ <<elseif $d7hairtie is 3>>\ <<set $hairtie to 3>> bunny ears ribbon. @@.lily;"This is my personal favorite, I'm surprised you chose it."@@ <<elseif $d7hairtie is 4>>\ <<set $hairtie to 4>> scrunchie. @@.lily;"Scrunchies are really nice because it puts less strain on your hair."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"How do I tie my hair with this?"@@ you ask as your sister starts brushing your hair, untangling it. @@.lily;"Well, first things first, brush your hair better,"@@ Lily berates you. @@.lily;"Your hair is so nice but I can tell you're not taking the best care of it."@@ @@.player;"Sorry,"@@ you grin sheepishly. @@.player;"Do I have to start using conditioner too?"@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, duh,"@@ you can see Lily rolling her eyes in the vanity mirror. @@.lily;"You probably use two-in-one shampoo and conditioner right now, those don't work well."@@ @@.player;"I'll do better,"@@ you chuckle, some embarrassment coursing through you. How did Lily know the shampoo you use? After Lily finishes brushing your hair, she quickly ties it back into a ponytail. It only takes a few moments for her, and your hair is now in a ponytail. You look in the mirror, admiring your new look. @@.lily;"So, do you like it?"@@ Lily asks, watching as you tilt your head from side to side. @@.player;"It'll probably make eating and exercising easier,"@@ you say, thinking of the practical uses first. @@.lily;"I mean, it will, but I'm talking about if you like how it looks."@@ <<set $lilyhairtieCG to true>>\ <<set $lilyCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $lilyCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ \ <<include "CG_LilyHairtie">>\ <<button "Say you prefer the ponytail over having your hair loose" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 3 (Long)">>\<<set $ponytailPref to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Say you don't prefer the ponytail over having your hair loose" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 3 (Long)">>\<<set $ponytailPref to false>>\<</button>>

@@.lily;"Okay, let's go with that,"@@ Lily says, picking up the \ \ <<if $d7hairpin is 1>>\ <<set $hairaccessory to 1>> violet hairpin. @@.lily;"You know, I don't know if anyone ever told you, but purple really is your color."@@ <<elseif $d7hairpin is 2>>\ <<set $hairaccessory to 2>> white hairpin. @@.lily;"This one will look nice with your hair. It's like yin and yang, you know?"@@ <<elseif $d7hairpin is 3>>\ <<set $hairaccessory to 3>> red hairpin. @@.lily;"Ooh, red looks a little ferocious. I like it."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"So, what am I meant to do with this?"@@ you ask. @@.lily;"Alright, $name,"@@ Lily says, suddenly putting on a serious look. @@.lily;"Hairpins are not just for holding your hair in place, they're also for style."@@ @@.player;"Style,"@@ you murmur. @@.lily;"Hairpins are really easy, all you have to do is style your bangs the way you want them and then stick them to make sure they stay in place."@@ Lily reaches over, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. She grabs the hairpins and puts them in place. @@.player;"Oh!"@@ you exclaim, a little surprised by how cold the metal harpins are. @@.player;"Is that it?"@@ @@.lily;"Yup, it's real easy. Try doing it yourself."@@ You manage to get it on your first try, sliding the two pins in perfectly. You can't help but smile, proud of your progress. @@.player;"I did it,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"Good job,"@@ Lily replies. @@.lily;"You can keep the hairpins, do you want to keep them on for today or take them out?"@@ <<button "Keep your hairpins on" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 3 (Short)">>\<<set $d7keepPins to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Take the hairpins off" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 3 (Short)">>\<<set $d7keepPins to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $ponytailPref is true>>\ @@.player;"I like it,"@@ you say, shaking your head a little and watching the ponytail sway from side to side. @@.player;"I think I actually prefer it over having my hair loose."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Hmm, I like it,"@@ you say, shaking your head a little and watching the ponytail sway from side to side. @@.player;"I think I prefer having my hair loose though."@@ <</if>>\ @@.lily;"I see,"@@ Lily says, rubbing her chin. She then suddenly unties your hair, making your hair fall down your back. @@.lily;"Well, let's teach you to do your own hair now."@@ @@.player;"Okay, it can't be too tough, right?"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"You did it in a few seconds after all."@@ @@.lily;"It's pretty easy, plus you'll commit it to muscle memory."@@ @@.player;"I'm ready,"@@ you say, taking the hair tie in your hands. @@.lily;"Step one,"@@ Lily begins. @@.lily;"You're going to make sure your hair is all smooth. Just a quick brush will do."@@ @@.player;"Didn't we already do that?"@@ @@.lily;"I did it, but yes,"@@ Lily laughs. @@.lily;"Just make sure to brush it before you start tying it. Step two, gather the hair in one hand. Make sure you gather it around the center of the back of your head."@@ You use both hands to gather your hair together into a ponytail, making sure to center it. After you're done gathering it, you hold it with one hand. @@.player;"Like this?"@@ @@.lily;"Good job!"@@ Lily exclaims. @@.lily;"Okay, step three is to hold the ponytail in one hand and use the other to wrap the hair tie around it."@@ You nod, picking up the hair tie and fumbling with it. You try and wrap the hair tie around your hair, but you stretch it a little too far. The band snaps out of your hand, flying through the air before it crashlands on the floor. @@.player;"Whoops."@@ @@.lily;"Great job,"@@ Lily bursts out into laughter. She walks across the room and picks up the band before bringing it back to you. @@.lily;"This is the easy part by the way."@@ @@.player;"Really?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Let me try again, I'll do better this time."@@ @@.lily;"You did it,"@@ Lily smiles. @@.lily;"Now, step four, hold the ponytail tight with your left hand. Stretch the tie with your right hand and loop it over the hair."@@ @@.player;"Woah, what?"@@ Lily sighs and loosens her hair in response. She repeats the first few steps, making sure you can see it. You watch intently and she loops the hair tie around her hair. You try and replicate it and fail a few times. Eventually though, you manage to finish step four. @@.lily;"Are you ready for the last step?"@@ @@.player;"As ready as I'll ever be,"@@ you respond, starting to feel a little burn in your arms from holding them up for so long. @@.lily;"Step five, just twist the tie and loop it around again,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"It's basically the same as step four."@@ With your experience, you managed to secure the tie on the second loop. You look at yourself in the mirror and see yourself with a ponytail. Sure it's a little messy, but you did it! @@.player;"Wow, I actually did it."@@ @@.lily;"Good job!"@@ your sister says, a hint of pride in her voice. She lets you observe your ponytail in the mirror for a few more seconds before taking off your hair tie. @@.lily;"Now, do it a few more times until you've got it down."@@ <<button "Master the art of tying your hair" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 4 (Long)">><</button>>

<<if $d7keepPins is true>>\ @@.player;"I think I'll keep the hairpins on for now,"@@ you say, preening in the mirror. <<else>>\ <<set $hairaccessory to 0>>\ @@.player;"I think I'll keep the hairpins off for now,"@@ you say, taking the hairpins out and putting them in your pocket. <</if>>\ @@.lily;"Sure, suit yourself,"@@ Lily shrugs. @@.player;"Thanks for the help today, by the way,"@@ you say, a light grin on your face. @@.player;"I know it must've been weird to teach your older brother how to put in hairpins after he got cursed by a witch."@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, that damn gender curse,"@@ Lily giggles. @@.lily;"I didn't mind helping at all though. It was actually kind of fun"@@ @@.player;"Well, just know I appreciate it."@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 4">><</button>>

<<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You spend the next hour in Lily's room, tying your hair over and over again. Your movements are clumsy and slow at first, but you slowly improve with each repetition. By the end of the hour, you've advanced significantly. You're able to tie your hair without any assistance, and it looks pretty neat and put together as well. @@.lily;"Ladies and gentlemen!"@@ Lily announces in a mock celebration. @@.lily;"We've got a hairstylist in the making in $name."@@ @@.player;"Let's not get carried away,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"Anyway, thank you, Lily."@@ @@.lily;"Hey, if you ever want to learn how to tie your hair into a bun, I'm always here,"@@ Lily says, winking. @@.lily;"You can keep the hair tie. Are you going to keep your hair tied or not?"@@ <<button "Keep your hair tied" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 5 (Long)">>\<<set $d7keepTied to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Keep your hair loose" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 5 (Long)">>\<<set $d7keepTied to false>>\<</button>>

<<grantAchievement "LilyHair">>\ <<if $d7keepTied is true>>\ @@.player;"I think I'll keep my hair tied for now,"@@ you say, adjusting your ponytail. <<else>>\ <<set $hairStyle to 0>>\ <<set $hairtie to 0>>\ @@.player;"I think I'm going to keep my hair loose for now,"@@ you say, taking off the hair tie and putting it on your wrist. <</if>>\ @@.lily;"Sure, suit yourself,"@@ Lily shrugs. @@.player;"Thanks for the help today, by the way,"@@ you say, a light grin on your face. @@.player;"I know it must've been weird to teach your older brother how to tie his cursed hair."@@ @@.lily;"Cursed hair?"@@ Lily giggles. @@.lily;"Yeah, okay Rapunzel. I didn't mind helping at all. It was actually kind of fun."@@ @@.player;"Well, just know I appreciate it."@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 4">><</button>>

You decide to go and ask your sister for help with your hair. You go over to her room, standing outside the door awkwardly. Mustering up the courage, you hit your knuckles on the door, knocking it. @@.lily;"Come in!"@@ Lily says. You open the door and peek your head in, watching Lily at her desk. Her room is a cozy, chaotic mix of posters, scattered school supplies, and a bed covered in plushies and throw pillows. Lily sits cross-legged, flipping through a notebook and occasionally glancing at her laptop. She spots you hesitating and raises her eyebrows. @@.lily;"Hello, Earth to $name,"@@ she says, making her way over to you and waving her hand over your eyes. @@.lily;"Come on, what's going on? Still feeling weird because of the curse?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Well, I mean yes I am feeling weird because of the curse, but that's not why I'm hesitating."@@ @@.lily;"Uhh, okay?"@@ Lily says, tilting her head to the side in confusion. @@.lily;"So, why'd you visit my room?"@@ @@.player;"Well, the issue is with my hair,"@@ you say, reaching out and touching your hair. \ \ <<if $hairProg is 0>>\ @@.player;"It hasn't changed, but I still want to kind of try experimenting with it."@@ <<elseif $hairProg is 1>>\ @@.player;"It hasn't grown longer, but it's gotten a lot softer, and I want to learn how to mess with it."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"It's grown softer and longer, and it's been getting a little annoying to deal with."@@ <</if>>\ <<if $hairProg < 2>>\ @@.lily;"Hmm, I see,"@@ Lily says, rubbing her chin. <<elseif $hairProg > 1>>\ @@.lily;"I knew it wasn't hair extensions or hair serum from Temu!"@@ your sister exclaims, touching your hair. @@.lily;"It was too realistic to be extensions, and the hair serum part was just bullshit."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"So, do you think you can help?"@@ you ask with a little desperation in your voice. @@.lily;"Oh, so you want some of my expertise?"@@ she asks, a smug grin on her face. @@.lily;"Of course, the expert is here to help. Sit down."@@ <<if $hairProg < 2>>\ <<button "Take a seat" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 1 (Short)">>\<<set $tieHair to false>>\<</button>> <<elseif $hairProg > 1>>\ <<button "Take a seat" "Day 7 - Hair Sister 1 (Long)">>\<<set $tieHair to true>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $hairStyle to 1>>\ <<set $hairtie to 1>>\ You manage to find a hairbrush and a simple violet-colored hair tie that seems like it went through a lot. You drag the chair over to your mirror and sit in front of it. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you mutter to yourself, picking up the brush. @@.player;"This can't be too difficult, right?"@@ You begin brushing your hair, carefully working out the tangles. The sensation of the bristles pulling through your locks is oddly soothing. You remember watching Lily tie her hair in the mornings, and she was always able to do it perfectly in a few seconds. It looks effortless, and you hoped you could do the same. You pick up one of the elastic ties and hold it between your fingers. @@.player;"Step one,"@@ you mumble. @@.player;"Pull the hair back."@@ You sweep your hands back, gathering the hair at the nape of your neck. Some strands slip out of your grip though. You frown and try again, holding tighter. You manage to get most of your hair into a loose bundle. @@.player;"Okay, now the tie,"@@ you say, looping the elastic around your fingers and reaching for the gathered hair. You try and twist it into place, but the tie snaps off your fingers. It flies away and lands on the floor. @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you groan, running a hand through your hair. You slump back in your chair for a moment, sighing. But something inside you, some determination, won't let you quit. You start higher up on your head and comb through your hair with your fingers to keep it smooth. You gather the strands tightly, and after a few tries, you manage to loop the elastic band over the bundle once. Then, with a slow and careful twist, you do it again. For a moment, you can't believe you just did that. Sure, it's just tying your hair, but it fills you with a strange sense of accomplishment. It was a small thing, but it was your small thing. You did it all by yourself. You stand up and take a look at yourself, turning your head from side to side. You feel \ \ <<if $acceptance < 10>>\ a little nervous. <<else>>\ a little excited. <</if>>\ Sitting back down, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You did a pretty good job. For now, though, you have to decide what to do with your ponytail. <<button "Keep your hair tied" "Day 7 - Hair Solo 2">>\<<set $d7keepTied to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Keep your hair loose" "Day 7 - Hair Solo 2">>\<<set $d7keepTied to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $d7keepTied is true>>\ You decide to keep your hair tied, nodding to yourself. <<else>>\ <<set $hairStyle to 0>>\ <<set $hairtie to 0>>\ You decide to keep your hair loose, taking off the hair tie and putting it on your wrist. <</if>>\ You smile at your reflection in the mirror. \ <<if $acceptance < 10>>\ Despite not being so sure about the whole thing yet, you were still proud of today. <<else>>\ You feel yourself slowly accepting the curse. Maybe things aren't so bad after all. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 4">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> You decide to work your hair by yourself. You head off to YouTube, hoping it will have some information. There are a few guides, and it seems pretty simple. \ <<if $hairProg < 2>>\ The only issue is your hair isn't long enough yet to tie it back. You shake your head, maybe you'll be able to learn how to tie it later. <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 4">><</button>> <<else>>\ You look at your hair, and see that it is long enough to tie. You nod your head, and scamper off to look for everything you need. <<button "Gather materials" "Day 7 - Hair Solo 1">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<if $recentTransformation is "breasts1">>\ You look down, having just grown boobs. Boobs. On your body. You can't help but feel \ <<if $transgender > 4>>\ happy for some reason. You don't know why, but you do feel a little happy. <<else>>\ nervous. <</if>>\ You think they're small enough that nobody will notice them for now, but you don't know what you'll do if they grow further. You decide to leave that for later though. <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 9">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts2">>\ <<set $afterEvent to "Day 7 - 9">>\ You look down, realizing your boobs just grew. You gasp, realizing you can't hide them anymore. This is something you have to address. <<button "Address the issue" "Event - Breasts">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts3">>\ You realize your boobs just grew even more. You have medium-sized breasts now, and they are very noticeable. You've already decided to \ <<if $eventBind is true>>\ bind them so that nobody will notice you've grown boobs. It'll be uncomfortable, but something you have to deal with. <<else>>\ just leave them be regardless of if people notice you've grown boobs. You sigh and wonder what you'll tell your parents. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 9">><</button>> <<else>>\ You realize you just changed again, but luckily it's a part you can hide. You breathe a sigh of relief. <<button "Continue" "Day 7 - 9">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<if $d7okay is 0>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ Your cheeks flush as you look away, struggling to find the words to express how you feel. @@.player;"I actually kind of like it, believe it or not,"@@ you spit out. @@.player;"I mean, I don't fully get it, but some of the changes feel... right, I guess."@@ @@.lily;"Wow,"@@ Lily says, her eyes widening. She doesn't look judgmental; though, just surprised. @@.lily;"That's cool. I think. It is your body, so if you're okay with it, that's what matters. But that still sounds pretty intense."@@ <<elseif $d7okay is 1>>\ You shrug, trying to sound nonchalant even though your heart is pounding. @@.player;"It's weird for sure, but I don't really mind it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's not as bad as I thought it'd be. I'm just trying to go with the flow, I guess."@@ @@.lily;"Okay, that's fair,"@@ Lily nods, her expression thoughtful. @@.lily;"If I was cursed to turn into a guy though, I'd be pissed."@@ @@.player;"Maybe it's a virus,"@@ you tease, a smirk growing on your face. @@.player;"I'll infect you with the gender change virus."@@ @@.lily;"No, get away from me!"@@ Lily shrieks. <<else>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Your shoulders slump as you avoid Lily's gaze. @@.player;"No, I'm not okay with it,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"I hate it, it feels like I'm losing control over my own body."@@ @@.lily;"That really does sound terrifying,"@@ Lily says, her expression softening. @@.lily;"I'm not really good at serious stuff, but let me know if I can help in any way."@@ <</if>>\ You discuss the curse with Lily for a while, and after a few minutes, she leaves. <<button "Decide what to do" "Day 7 - 3">><</button>>

<img src="img/logo.png"> Congratulations on reaching the end of the introduction to A Mirror's Curse! The first week of $name's journey has been intense and involved a lot of changes. Whether you've embraced the magic, resisted it, or found yourself unsure, your decisions have begun shaping $name's path in ways both subtle and profound. This week served as a foundation for the rest of the game. An opportunity to familiarize yourself with many aspects of the game. As we move forward, things will only grow more complex. The stakes will rise, the transformations will deepen, relationships will advance, and $name's world will open up in ways you may not expect. Remember, your choices matter. You get to influence $name's relationships, identity, and ultimate fate. The power to determine $name's future is in your hands. I hope you all enjoyed what the game has to offer so far, and will stick around for more. Much love, amaty <<button "Continue" "Week 2 - Beginning">><</button>>

<<if $academic1introjoke is true>>\ <<set $sarcastic += 5>>\ <<set $genuine -= 5>>\ @@.player;"Alright, I'm $name, and I'm not really into all this 'academic alignment' stuff,"@@ you say, making air quotes around the phase. @@.player;"I mean, I guess I'm more of a... jock bard or something? Or maybe a gym wizard. Does that work?"@@ A few snickers ripple through the room, but you're mostly met with blank stares. Max tries to step in. @@.boy;"Do you mean athlete bard? Or maybe a—"@@ @@.player;"Oh no, no,"@@ you interrupt, waving a hand dismissively. @@.player;"I'm not about to start memorizing spells or whatever you guys do as a hobby. I mean, do you actually spend time on 'Rolling for Invention' or something?"@@ @@.boy;"Rolling for initiative,"@@ Max corrects. @@.boy;"It's from Dungeons & Dragons. You've heard of it, right?"@@ @@.player;"Oh, of course I've heard of that thing from //Stranger Things//,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You play pretend knights and fight goblins with math, don't you?"@@ There's a moment of stunned silence as all the nerds stare at you. A kid in the front row lets out an indignant huff. @@.boy;"There's so much more than that! It's about strategy, teamwork, and storytelling! You don't fight with math at all."@@ @@.player;"Sure, whatever you say,"@@ you shrug, your smirk widening. @@.player;"Anyway, I'm here because Vincent bribed me with some candy. I also heard there were donuts, and I was feeling hungry. Those are the real treasures here, right?"@@ @@.boy;"Donuts are nice, but this club is about more than snacks,"@@ Max raises an eyebrow, trying to keep his composure. @@.boy;"The club is also about expanding your mind, testing your limits, and unlocking your inner scholar."@@ @@.player;"Inner scholar, huh?"@@ you snort. @@.player;"Is that like when I 'level up' and get better grades? That would be great, I'm all for it."@@ The room erupts in groans and all the members of the Academic Club seem very disappointed in you. @@.vincent;"Psst, $name,"@@ Vincent whispers, shifting awkwardly in his seat. @@.vincent;"These guys are super into this stuff, maybe tone it down a little?"@@ @@.boy;"Well, it's good to have you,"@@ Max says, straightening his posture. @@.boy;"Even if you're, uh, new to all this, we're here to enlighten you. Consider this your first quest: to appreciate the wonders of academia."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $sarcastic -= 5>>\ <<set $genuine += 5>>\ @@.player;"Hey, I'm $name,"@@ you begin, glancing around the room. @@.player;"I'm not as hardcore about academics as some of you probably are, but I think learning stuff outside of class sounds really cool. Vincent's been telling me how great this club is as well, so I figured I'd give it a try."@@ A few nods ripple through the room, and Vincent beams. You continue, leaning in slightly. @@.player;"I've always liked history—it's kind of like a giant collection of stories, don't you think? I guess I'm curious about how competitions and trivia games work. I've never done something like that before."@@ @@.boy;"History bard!"@@ Max says, clapping his hands together enthusiastically. @@.boy;"Welcome to the team, $name. Don't worry—if you're new to academic challenges, we'll get you trained up soon. This is like your origin story."@@ <</if>>\ Once everyone finishes their introductions, Max gets everyone's attention. @@.boy;"Alright, adventurers, now that we've all declared our academic alignments and formed our party, it's time for our first quest: a trivia battle!"@@ He gestures toward a small table at the front of the room, where a set of buzzers are hooked up to a central console. @@.boy;"Each of you will take turns competing head-to-head, answering questions on a variety of topics. Think of this as a trial by fire. The winner gets first dibs on the donuts!"@@ The group chuckles and Max gestures for the first two volunteers to step up. It's not long before your turn arrives. You find yourself sitting across from Vincent, who's grinning at you. @@.boy;"Alright, $name and Vincent!"@@ Max declares, pretending to be a game show host. @@.boy;"The next round begins now. First question!"@@ Max pulls out a card from a stack and reads the first question. @@.boy;"This ancient Greek historian, often called the 'Father of History,' wrote //Histories//, a work documenting the Greco-Persian Wars."@@ Vincent buzzes in almost immediately. @@.vincent;"Herodotus!"@@ Vincent says triumphantly. @@.boy;"Correct!"@@ Max says. Vincent shoots you an apologetic grin. Max moves on to the next question. @@.boy;"In physics, what is the term for the amount of energy required to raise the temperature of one gram of a substance by one degree Celsius?"@@ You buzz in first this time, remembering the physics class you took last year. @@.player;"Specific heat capacity!"@@ @@.boy;"Correct, $name's on the board!"@@ Max cheers. The questions come quickly after that, ranging from obscure to downright impossible. You trade points back and forth with Vincent, with the other club members cheering you on. By the end of the round, you're neck-and-neck with Vincent. Max grins mischievously as he pulls out the final card. @@.boy;"Alright, this one's for all the glory! In what year did the Treaty of Paris, ending the American Revolutionary War, officially come into effect?"@@ <div class="note">\ <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ Don't cheat! </div>\ <<button "1783" "Day 10 - Academic 2">>\<<set $academic1triviaanswer to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_academic_trivia" "1783" "story">><</button>> <<button "1776" "Day 10 - Academic 2">>\<<set $academic1triviaanswer to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_academic_trivia" "1776" "story">><</button>>

<<if $academic1triviaanswer is true>>\ <<set $study to Math.clamp($study + 3, 0, 100)>>\ Without hesitation, you slam the buzzer. @@.player;"1783,"@@ you say confidently, the answer coming to you. Max freezes for a moment, drawing out the dramatic pause, before he finally grins and points at you. @@.boy;"Correct! $name takes the win!"@@ The room erupts into cheers and applause, and Vincent walks up to you. He has a smile on his face, sticking his hand out toward you. @@.vincent;"Good game,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"I can't believe you beat me on your first try!"@@ @@.player;"I suppose I got lucky,"@@ you say, shaking his hand. Max raises his arms like a victorious sports announcer. @@.boy;"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our first trivia champion of the day! $name has claimed the crown and the first pick of the donuts!"@@ Max grabs the box of donuts and holds them out toward you. \ <<else>>\ You buzz in quickly, your hand moving on instinct. @@.player;"1776?"@@ you say, your voice and confidence wavering as soon as the words leave your mouth. The room falls silent for a beat before Max gives an exaggerated groan, clutching his chest as if he's been shot. @@.boy;"Oh, so close, $name! Alas, 1776 is when the Declaration of Independence was signed—not the Treaty of Paris."@@ @@.vincent;"The correct answer is 1783!"@@ Vincent says with a grin. @@.boy;"Correct!"@@ Max declares, slamming his hand onto the table. @@.boy;"Vincent takes the round!"@@ @@.vincent;"Good game,"@@ Vincent says, sticking out his hand as the both of you stand up. @@.vincent;"That was a really close game! You did well."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Vincent,"@@ you say, shaking his hand. @@.boy;"Vincent, as the winner, you get the first pick,"@@ Max grins as he steps forward, holding out the box of donuts. @@.boy;"Don't worry $name, you still get a donut. Not to mention you'll always remember the Treaty of Paris from now on."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, a sheepish smile on your face. @@.player;"1783."@@ The group chuckles as Vincent grabs a glazed donut and waves it in triumph. \ <</if>>\ \ You look into the box of donuts, your eyes glazing over. The selection is impressive, and you find yourself overwhelmed by choices. Two immediately jump out at you though. One's a pink-frosted donut covered in glittery sprinkles, edible pearls, and a tiny candy bow. It looks adorable, and it's hard not to notice that it's the most intricately decorated one. The other is a dark chocolate donut topped with a drizzle of rich caramel and a sprinkle of sea salt. It's very understated and cool, as cool as a donut can be. <<button "Choose the adorable donut" "Day 10 - Academic 3">>\<<set $academic1femdonut to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_academic_donut" "adorable" "story">><</button>> <<button "Choose the cool donut" "Day 10 - Academic 3">>\<<set $academic1femdonut to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_academic_donut" "cool" "story">><</button>>

<<if $academic1femdonut is true>>\ You reach for the pink donut. @@.player;"This one's calling my name,"@@ you say with a grin, holding up the donut. @@.boy;"Bold choice, $name,"@@ Max nods approvingly. @@.vincent;"I can't wait to see you eat that thing,"@@ Vincent chuckles. @@.vincent;"It's like a tiny work of art."@@ <<else>>\ You grab the chocolate-caramel donut, nodding in approval. @@.player;"This one's solid,"@@ you say. @@.player;"No frills, just flavor."@@ @@.boy;"A warrior's choice,"@@ Max nods sagely. @@.boy;"Straightforward and strong. You are ready for battle."@@ @@.vincent;"It's just a donut, Max,"@@ Vincent rolls his eyes, but can't help but laugh. <</if>>\ With your chosen donut, you head back to your seat. You breathe in, savoring the sweet smell. The group is still buzzing from the trivia game, a sense of excitement still lingering. Max stands up at the front of the room again, clapping his hands to get everyone's attention. @@.boy;"Alright, fellow scholars, fantastic work today!"@@ he announces. @@.boy;"I'm dubbing this meeting a critical success. Next week, we'll dive deeper into academics and even do some strategy sessions for anyone interested in competitions."@@ @@.vincent;"Not bad for your first meeting, huh?"@@ Vincent turns to you, grinning as everyone begins wrapping up. @@.player;"Yeah, it was fun,"@@ you admit, feeling a sense of relief. @@.player;"I didn't think I'd enjoy this as much as I did."@@ @@.vincent;"What did I say,"@@ Vincent smiles. @@.vincent;"Stick with us, and you'll be an academic monster in no time. At the very least, you'll have fun trying."@@ As you head for the door, chewing on your donut, Max calls out to you. @@.boy;"$name! Great job today. You've got some serious potential, my friend."@@ You nod back at him, appreciating the encouragement. As you step out of the classroom, the chatter of your peers fills the hallway. Time really had flown by. Maybe the Academic Club had a lot more to offer than you expected. <<button "Go to lunch" "Day 10 - 5">><</button>>

The Academic Club meets in one of the older classrooms on the second floor, the kind with scuffed wooden desks and chalkboards that haven't been replaced with smartboards yet. The faint smell of old books and chalk dust lingers in the stale air as you step inside, taking in the rows of desks pushed together to form a large rectangle. A few students are already seated, chatting in low voices or flipping through textbooks thicker than your arm. At the far end of the room, you spot Vincent. You chuckle to yourself, of course he's in this club. He looks up from his book and spots you. @@.vincent;"$name, over here!"@@ he calls, waving energetically. You make your way over, dropping your bag onto the chair next to his. @@.player;"Hey, Vincent,"@@ you say, returning his smile. @@.vincent;"I can't believe you joined this club!"@@ Vincent says, his grin widening. @@.vincent;"I mean, I hoped you would join, but Academic Clubs aren't exactly exciting to most people."@@ @@.player;"You know, I thought I'd give it a shot,"@@ you say, chuckling as you lean back in your chair. @@.player;"Besides, you're here, so it can't be too bad."@@ @@.vincent;"You won't regret it, I hope,"@@ he laughs, the sound genuine. @@.vincent;"The club is great, for the most part. Sometimes we get a little too caught up with things like debate prep or advanced math problems, but it's all fun once you get into it. The people here are pretty cool too, although a few of them could work on their social skills."@@ At that moment, a tall, lanky guy with a mop of messy blond hair on his head strides to the front of the room. He's wearing a T-shirt with a pixelated dragon on it and a button pinned to his backpack that reads: //I'd rather be rolling for initiative//. He gestures dramatically as he addresses the group. @@.boy;"Welcome, fellow scholars and adventurers, to the most noble of quests: the Academic Club!"@@ he declares, his voice filled with enthusiasm. @@.boy;"I am your fearless leader, Max, Dungeon Master of this party of knowledge-seekers. But today, we aren't slaying dragons. Oh no. We're slaying ignorance! And the XP rewards are totally worth it."@@ Vincent leans over and whispers into your ear. @@.vincent;"As I said, some could work on their social skills."@@ Max continues, pacing around the front of the room as if he's giving a motivational speech. @@.boy;"Here in the Academic Club, we celebrate the ancient arts of problem-solving, trivia mastery, and intellectual combat. Whether your specialty is decoding history textbooks or wielding the magic of equations, there's a place for you here. We're like Ravenclaw, but better. Also, we have snacks."@@ @@.vincent;"A Harry Potter reference in 2024?"@@ Vincent whispers, judging Max. @@.vincent;"//The Stormlight Archive// is better anyway."@@ @@.girl;"Do we actually have snacks?"@@ a girl in the back asks. @@.boy;"Of course!"@@ Max replies, pulling out a box of donuts and setting them on a nearby desk with a flourish. @@.boy;"Behold! Provisions for our mighty academic journey. Take one if you dare."@@ The group chuckles and Max claps his hands to get everyone's attention. @@.boy;"Now, let's begin with introductions! Tell us your name, your academic alignment, and what you hope to get out of this merry fellowship."@@ As the introductions begin, you listen to the other members talk about their favorite subjects and their dreams of winning competitions or acing their exams. One student refers to himself as a "literature rogue," while another declares he's a "physics paladin." The worst part is you think they're being completely serious. Eventually, your turn to introduce yourself arrives. You make your way to the front of the room and think of how you should do it. <<button "Troll the nerds a little" "Day 10 - Academic 1">>\<<set $academic1introjoke to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Be genuine and try to fit in" "Day 10 - Academic 1">>\<<set $academic1introjoke to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $fashion1introConfident is true>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You stand up and smile, feeling the eyes of the club on you but using it to fuel your confidence. @@.player;"Hey, I'm $name,"@@ you say with a grin. @@.player;"This is my first year in the Fashion Club. I figured I could use some help with my style. Plus, I'm always up for a challenge.'@@ You give a quick wink and sit back down. <<else>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You stand up a little straighter, feeling the weight of all the eyes on you. You clear your throat and try to keep your voice steady. @@.player;"Uh, hey everyone, I'm $name,"@@ you say, your hands nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt. @@.player;"I, uhh... I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, but I thought joining might help with some fashion stuff. I guess. Yeah, that's it. Thanks."@@ You sit down quickly, your face burning a little with embarrassment. You hope you didn't sound too awkward. <</if>>\ Sierra crosses your name off her list and looks up with a bright smile. @@.girl;"Alright, welcome to the Fashion Club, everyone! I'm really excited to see so many of you here today. Today's going to be a chill intro meeting, but I've got a couple of activities planned so we can start getting to know each other more. Let me go over what we do in the club first."@@ She clicks a button on a remote, and a PowerPoint presentation appears on the whiteboard behind her. As expected from the fashion club, the slides are simple but stylish. @@.girl;"Basically, this club is all about fashion design, styling, and personal expression. We do a lot here, from sketching outfit concepts to upcycling old clothes into fresh designs. Some of you might be here to refine your skills, and others may be complete newbies to this hobby. That's all fine! We're here to learn and grow together."@@ She presses a button to go to another slide. @@.girl;"Throughout the year, we'll have design challenges, styling contests, and even collaborate with the theater department for costume design. We also have an Instagram account where we showcase everyone's work!"@@ Sierra gestures to a stack of fabric swatches and magazines on a nearby table. @@.girl;"For today, let's keep it light,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Use the magazines, cutouts, and fabric pieces to create a mood board! You can create a collage that represents your personal style or what inspires you. You'll work in small groups so everyone gets to share ideas."@@ She divides the room into groups of four or five. Jessica is in your group, along with two other girls who introduce themselves as Ava and Clara. The table between you is soon piled high with colorful materials, scissors, and glue sticks. Jessica flips through a magazine with a thoughtful expression, Ava eagerly grabs fabric swatches, and Clara collects some bold, colorful cutouts. You hesitate as you consider how to approach your collage. <<button "Highlight clean, structured looks" "Day 10 - Fashion 2">>\<<set $fashion1moodboard to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_fashion_moodboard" "structured" "story">><</button>> <<button "Explore soft, expressive designs" "Day 10 - Fashion 2">>\<<set $fashion1moodboard to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_fashion_moodboard" "expressive" "story">><</button>>

<<if $fashion1moodboard is true>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You focus on the clean, structured looks that immediately catch your eye. Reaching for a magazine, you start flipping through it. You come across images of tailored suits, crisp button-ups, and well-fitted coats. The sharp lines and neutral tones feel grounding, offering balance amidst the variety of materials you have to work with. @@.jessica;"That's an interesting choice,"@@ Jessica says, glancing over. @@.jessica;"I wouldn't have thought to go that direction."@@ @@.player;"It's just what stood out to me,"@@ you say, carefully cutting out an image from the magazine. @@.girl;"That's cool,"@@ Clara chimes in. @@.girl;"Structured pieces can be super versatile. They're more formal, sure, but you can always mix them with casual stuff to make it work."@@ Ava leans over, holding a swatch of fabric toward you. @@.girl;"Do you think this would fit with what you're doing?"@@ You take the fabric and run your fingers over it. It's a muted gray with a subtle pinstripe. @@.player;"Yeah, I think this would work,"@@ you nod. As you arrange the cutouts and fabric swatches on the poster board, you notice how your contributions add a grounding element to the collage. Jessica and Clara's bold choices bring energy and Ava's vibrant textures add flair. Your additions tie everything together with a subtle, structured edge. @@.jessica;"Wow, it's coming together really well,"@@ Jessica says, stepping back to admire the work. @@.girl;"It's got a bit of everything,"@@ Clara agrees, clearly impressed. @@.girl;"We can show this off."@@ You can't help but feel a small spark of pride as you see how your contributions fit into your group's mood board. <<elseif $fashion1moodboard is false>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You find yourself drawn to the softer, more expressive designs scattered across the magazines and swatches. Flowing dresses, delicate patterns, and gentle pastel hues seem to leap off the pages. You begin cutting out the images and end up noticing how these styles evoke a sense of individuality. Jessica leans in, watching as you carefully extract a picture of a feminine top. @@.jessica;"That's an interesting pick,"@@ she says, tilting her head. @@.jessica;"You're going for something... whimsical?"@@ @@.player;"I suppose so, yeah,"@@ you respond, setting the image next to another of a flowing skirt. @@.player;"It just feels so effortless, I like it."@@ Ava holds up a picture of a loose sweater in a peach color. @@.girl;"Ooh, I think this would totally fit with what you're doing. It's cozy but stylish, if you know what I'm getting at."@@ You nod, accepting the image and adding it to your collection. The pieces start forming a cohesive theme—one that celebrates softness. Clara picks up a swatch of pink chiffon and hands it to you. @@.girl;"Here,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"This seems like it'd go right with your vibe."@@ As the group works together and arranges everything, your pieces add a sense of softness to the collage. The pastel tones and free-flowing lines balance out Jessica and Clara's bold choices and Ava's textural contributions. @@.girl;"It's really pretty,"@@ Clara says, stepping back to admire the board. @@.girl;"Like, it's calm, but still makes a statement."@@ @@.jessica;"It's definitely got this peaceful but artistic vibe,"@@ Jessica nods in approval. You smile, brushing some stray cutouts to the side. You feel like your choices reflect a part of yourself you hadn't expressed much in the past. <</if>>\ As your group finishes the collage, Clara uses a sharpie to write a small title across the top: //''Expressions of Style''//. The board is a colorful mixture of textures and images, with each member's contributions weaving together into something cohesive but unique. Sierra claps her hands to get everyone's attention. @@.girl;"Alright everyone, time's up! Please leave your collages in the back, we'll be presenting them next class."@@ As your group sets the board aside, Sierra moves to the front of the room. @@.girl;"To keep the creative energy going, we're going to be playing //Style Story Showdown//!"@@ she announces. @@.girl;"Now, if you're asking what that is, I just made it up. But, how it works is that I have a basket filled with a bunch of fashion items. You'll pick an item blindly, and then you'll have a minute to tell us a story about a character who would wear that item. Be as wild and creative as you want!"@@ Jessica has a hint of a sly smile playing on her lips. @@.jessica;"I'm not sure if anyone can top my fashion storytelling skills, though."@@ @@.girl;"Jessica, if you're so confident, feel free to go first,"@@ Sierra says, handing the basket to her. Jessica reaches in and she pulls out a pair of oversized, glitter-encrusted sunglasses. She held them up, examining them like a prospector inspects minerals. @@.jessica;"Okay, I've got it,"@@ Jessica slips the glasses onto her nose. She tilts her head as if posing for a magazine cover. The lenses sparkle under the room's fluorescent lights, drawing every eye. @@.jessica;"Picture this: Sunset Goldstein, a pop star with a flair for drama. She just dropped her latest single, //Disco Inferno Love//, and it's hit a billion streams on every platform."@@ Jessica begins to pace the front of the room like she was on a stage, gesturing animatedly. @@.jessica;"But Sunset isn't just about music. Oh no, not at all. She's what some would call a //visionary//. And these glasses are her signature look. She wears them around everywhere she goes."@@ You can't help but smile, feeling like Sunset Goldstein is an actual person. @@.jessica;"Sunset doesn't just wear these glasses, she lives in them. Now, everyone wants a pair. She's an icon—the new queen of iconic eyewear."@@ Jessica strikes a final pose, hand on her hip, sunglasses glinting under the lights. @@.jessica;"Thank you,"@@ she says, flipping her hair before sitting back down with a triumphant smirk. The room bursts in a mix of laughter and applause. @@.girl;"Alright, Jessica,"@@ Sierra has a grin on her face despite her best efforts to maintain a neutral expression. @@.girl;"Good job. That's going to be a tough act to follow, but we might just have the perfect second act! $name!"@@ Your heart drops. You had to follow up //that// performance? Seriously? You hesitate before dipping your hand in the basket. Your fingers close around something soft and lacy, a pastel pink scarf with embroidered flowers. @@.girl;"Let's see what you've got, $name. Impress us!"@@ <<button "Play it safe with a simple explanation" "Day 10 - Fashion 3">>\<<set $fashion1style to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_fashion_explanation" "simple" "story">><</button>> <<button "Go bold and act it out" "Day 10 - Fashion 3">>\<<set $fashion1style to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_fashion_explanation" "bold" "story">><</button>>

<<if $fashion1style is true>>\ You clear your throat, feeling the eyes of the room settle on you. The pastel pink scarf with its embroidered flowers feel soft in your hands. You take a breath to steady yourself, reminding yourself that this is just for fun. Holding the scarf up for everyone to see, you start with a small smile. @@.player;"This scarf belongs to Lady Penelope Blossom,"@@ you say, your voice wavering a little. @@.player;"She's... uh... a Victorian-era ghost who haunts a grand estate."@@ You glance around the room and notice Jessica smiling encouragingly, so you continue. @@.player;"Lady Penelope used to throw these, uh, really extravagant garden parties when she used to be alive. This scarf was her favorite because it matched her rose bushes."@@ A few heads nod and you feel your confidence build. @@.player;"Now that she's a ghost, she still roams the halls of the estate. But instead of hosting parties, she makes sure all the other ghosts' outfits are color-coordinated. She's like the fashion police of the afterlife."@@ A few giggles ripple through the group, and you feel a bit more of the tension ease. Sierra claps her hands lightly. @@.girl;"Nice one, $name!"@@ Sierra says warmly, her smile making you feel a little better. @@.girl;"You did a really good job."@@ The rest of the club offers polite applause, and you let out a relieved breath as you pass the basket to the next person. It might not have been the flashiest performance, but you got through it without embarrassing yourself. <<elseif $fashion1style is false>>\ <<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $timmersion to Math.clamp($timmersion + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a deep breath, holding the pastel pink scarf in your hands. It's frilly, flowery, and nothing like you'd usually wear. But there's something about this room's energy that makes you decide to go big. If you're going to do this, you might as well //own// it. Standing up, you drape the scarf dramatically around your neck, letting it cascade down like you're modeling. With a deep bow and exaggerated flourish of your hand, you adopt a posh British accent. @@.player;"Ah, dearest guests of the illustrious Blossom Estate!"@@ you declare, sweeping an invisible crowd with a regal gaze. A few people lean forward and many begin giggling, boosting your confidence. You continue pacing the room as if addressing an audience at a grand ball. @@.player;"I am Lady Penelope Blossom, the eternal hostess of the most fabulous garden parties on this side of the afterlife!"@@ You pause dramatically, raising your hand as though to emphasize the importance of your words. @@.player;"This scarf is no mere accessory,"@@ you continue, tugging at the fabric around your neck. @@.player;"It is the crown jewel of my ensemble, hand-embroidered by only the finest artisans of the Victorian era. Some say it's enchanted—capable of making even the most dreadful fashion choices appear acceptable!"@@ The club laughs louder, Sierra clapping her hands together. You pause mid-step, holding up a finger as if suddenly struck by inspiration. @@.player;"However, this scarf does come with a curse!"@@ you add, lowering your voice. @@.player;"If someone dares to wear it without my explicit permission, they will find themselves unable to coordinate even the simplest of outfits for eternity! You'll find yourself wearing red and green!"@@ The laughter reaches a crescendo, and you finish with a dramatic bow. @@.player;"Now, my friends, I bid you adieu. For the afterlife waits, and the roses must be pruned."@@ You sit back down, feeling the adrenaline coursing through you as the class erupts in applause. Sierra looks delighted. @@.girl;"Okay, $name,"@@ Sierra says breathlessly. @@.girl;"That was amazing! Lady Penelope would definitely approve of that performance."@@ You can't help but feel a surge of pride—you didn't just participate, you stole the show. <</if>>\ You watch as the other members of the fashion club present, and as the last story wraps up, Sierra claps her hands. @@.girl;"That was fantastic, everyone! You really brought your A-game today. I loved seeing how creative you could get. This is exactly the kind of energy we're aiming for here!"@@ The room buzzed with chatter as members started to gather their things. You felt a mix of relief that the first meeting went so well. Sierra walked around, offering a few words of encouragement to each person. Jessica, standing nearby, adjusts her bag and looks over at you with a smirk. @@.jessica;"You did really great, $name,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Lady Penelope and her ghost fashion empire, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Well, it was difficult to follow Sunset Goldstein,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"I did my best though."@@ @@.jessica;"I'll see you in homeroom tomorrow, alright?"@@ Jessica says, slinging her bag over her shoulders. @@.jessica;"It was really nice seeing you here."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, see you,"@@ you reply, watching as she strolls out of the room. As you grab your things and head out to lunch, you can't help but feel a little lighter. Maybe the fashion club isn't just about clothes and creativity. You feel it'll also be a chance to build connections and discover new sides of yourself. Today felt like a step forward, even if you're not quite sure where it'll lead. <<button "Go to lunch" "Day 10 - 5">><</button>>

The fashion club meets in a room tucked away in the quieter wing of the school. As you approach the door, you can hear the low hum of conversation and the faint rustle of fabric. A colorful poster taped to the wall next to the door reads, "//FASHION CLUB: Where Creativity Threads Us Together.//" It's adorned with doodles of spools, needles, and vibrant outfits. You take a deep breath to steady your nerves. You push the door open and step inside. The room is a kaleidoscope of color and texture. Bolts of fabric line one wall, while another is covered in sketches pinned to a corkboard. A few sewing machines hum in the background as members adjust fabric and focus on their stitching. Jessica looks up from a table in the center of the room, her arms full of swatches. Her face lights up when she spots you. @@.jessica;"$name! I didn't know you joined this club!"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I thought I'd give it a shot,"@@ you reply, trying to mask your nervousness. @@.jessica;"Well, I'm glad you joined,"@@ she gives you a friendly smile. @@.girl;"Welcome, welcome!"@@ you hear a voice ring out. You look to the front of the room to see a girl with curly hair, wearing an oversized sweater and ripped jeans. Her outfit makes her look lazy and put-together at the same time. You suppose that's fashion. @@.girl;"We're a bit of everything here at the Fashion Club. Whatever strikes our fancy—designing, styling, learning new techniques—we try them all out! It's all about self-expression, creativity, and of course, a lot of fun."@@ She pauses, her eyes sweeping over the class. @@.girl;"Before we dive into the plans for the semester, let's have all the new members introduce themselves. Don't be shy—this is a supportive space."@@ Your turn to introduce yourself finally comes after some girls introduce themselves. The fact that the entire club is made up of girls slowly dawns on you as you look around. Sierra finally calls out your name and motions toward the front of the room. @@.girl;"Come on up, $name,"@@ she says. She hesitates, looking back down at her clipboard. @@.girl;"Oh, a guy joined this year! It's been a while since we had one..."@@ A few girls whisper quietly to each other, and you can feel your cheeks heat up slightly. How rare was it for a guy to join this club? <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ <<set $fashion1malefail to true>>\ @@.girl;"$name?"@@ Sierra says, continuing to look around the classroom. Her eyes rest on everyone's face, but she can't seem to point out who the guy is. A slight frown forms as she tries to match the name to a face. A few students glance at each other, and the whispers grow louder. You see Sierra's gaze flick back to the door like she's expecting you to be standing there. But no one steps forward. @@.girl;"Maybe he's late?"@@ You're beginning to realize what's happening: Sierra can't tell you're the guy she's supposed to be calling up. In fact, none of the girls seem to have noticed yet either. You bite your lip, feeling a bit awkward as your mind races to catch up. You suddenly realize that she might not even be able to tell you're a guy at all. You haven't done anything drastic, but your changes are enough that she might just be assuming you're one of the other girls who joined. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the room's eyes on you as you start moving. The room is quiet, all attention fixed on you. With a small, forced smile, you step toward the front of the room. Sierra, now realizing her mistake, blushes a deep red. @@.girl;"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"@@ she blurts out, her voice higher than usual. @@.girl;"I totally didn't mean to—uh, I mean, I should have known you were the new guy, but, uh, I was just... I wasn't expecting—"@@ She stops herself, realizing she's not making things better for herself. She presses her clipboard to her chest like a shield, clearly flustered. @@.girl;"I've been in this club since my freshman year, and I've never seen a guy join,"@@ she says, her hands fidgeting. Her usual confidence is nowhere to be found. She takes a deep breath and forces a smile, pulling herself together the best she can. @@.girl;"Okay, uh... sorry again. Why don't you go ahead and introduce yourself? We're all excited to have you!"@@ <<else>>\ <<set $fashion1malefail to false>>\ Sierra spots you in the crowd and smiles warmly. @@.girl;"Here, get up and introduce yourself!"@@ You make your way to the front of the room. You think about how you should introduce yourself, wanting to make a good first impression. <</if>>\ <<button "Introduce yourself confidently" "Day 10 - Fashion 1">>\<<set $fashion1introConfident to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_fashion_intro" "confident" "story">><</button>> <<button "Introduce yourself shyly" "Day 10 - Fashion 1">>\<<set $fashion1introConfident to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_fashion_intro" "shy" "story">><</button>>

<<if $occult1question is 0>>\ You lean forward slightly, glancing between Aurora and Milo. @@.player;"So what do you actually do in this club?"@@ you ask, curious. @@.aurora;"Good question,"@@ Aurora says, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. @@.aurora;"Officially, we study the supernatural. Folklore, myths, urban legends, all that jazz. We analyze how these stories shape cultures and why they persist. It's academic enough that the school doesn't mind."@@ @@.boy;"But unofficially?"@@ Milo cuts in, practically vibrating with excitement. @@.boy;"We experiment! We try a bunch of stuff. We test theories, draw protective sigils, and even do basic rituals. Aurora's really good at divination too!"@@ @@.aurora;"We're careful about what we do, $name,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"We don't mess with anything we don't fully understand. Magic is real, but it's also dangerous. We're here to learn and explore, not take unnecessary risks."@@ Milo nods, his face suddenly turning serious. @@.boy;"Yeah, I summoned a spirit once to find my earbuds after I lost them. It was a really bad idea, Aurora had to fix things."@@ @@.aurora;"Well, it taught you a lesson, didn't it?"@@ Aurora sighs. @@.aurora;"We can't summon spirits for trivial things, Milo."@@ @@.boy;"Lesson learned, ma'am!"@@ Milo says brightly before turning back to you. @@.boy;"But back to the point, we don't just sit around reading books. We explore, and sometimes, we actually get answers."@@ @@.aurora;"It's also about understanding the boundaries of what's possible,"@@ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"The supernatural isn't always obvious. It can be subtle. It's in the way coincidences happen, or the strange feeling you have when you step into certain places. The Occult Club is a space to notice those things and, maybe, figure out why they happen. There's a lot to learn here, and since you already know magic is real, you'll probably find more here than most."@@ <<elseif $occult1question is 1>>\ You glance at Milo, who's begun to doodle in the margins of his notebook. His energy is almost dizzying, and you can't help but wonder how someone like him ended up in the Occult Club. You turn to Aurora, lowering your voice slightly. @@.player;"So, who's this kid? Milo, right?"@@ @@.aurora;"Milo?"@@ Aurora asks, an amused smile on her face. @@.aurora;"He's our resident... enthusiast."@@ Milo perks up immediately. @@.boy;"That's me, enthusiast extraordinaire!"@@ he says, throwing his arms in the air. @@.boy;"Oh, wait. Did you mean my story? It's a really good one, I promise. Full of mystery, intrigue, and more."@@ @@.aurora;"Milo joined the club last year, and he's curious about everything,"@@ Aurora rolls her eyes fondly. @@.aurora;"He reads and studies a lot about magic. Sometimes he overdoes it."@@ @@.boy;"Hey!"@@ Milo interjects. @@.boy;"I just like knowing stuff, alright? Like, there's a species of beetle that looks like it has runes on its back. Imagine if those were magic runes. Maybe magic came from those beetles, who knows?"@@ Aurora suppresses a laugh and continues. @@.aurora;"He's also really good at drawing sigils and deciphering old symbols. When focused, Milo is one of the best researchers I know. The issue is he's not focused very often."@@ @@.boy;"Well, I'm awesome anyway,"@@ Milo enthuses, a grin on his face. @@.boy;"I'm here because magic is cool, and there's so much to learn about it. Plus, Aurora lets me talk as much as I'd like. Some clubs take an issue with that."@@ @@.player;"You don't say,"@@ you mutter. @@.boy;"Hey, I heard that!"@@ @@.aurora;"Milo's chaotic, but passionate,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Feel free to ask him about anything, he'll be happy to answer. And that's Milo."@@ You look at Milo again, watching as he furiously sketches something that looks suspiciously more like a cat than a rune. You can already tell that Milo will make this club interesting. <<elseif $occult1question is 2>>\ You look between Aurora and Milo, the question swirling in your mind before you finally decide to ask. @@.player;"Is magic real for everyone? Or is it just something only a few people can do?"@@ Aurora's expression softens and she adjusts how she's sitting. @@.aurora;"That's a good question,"@@ she says, her voice calm and thoughtful. @@.aurora;"Magic is all around us—in the small things most people don't notice. But it's not something everyone can //use//."@@ @@.boy;"Yeah!"@@ Milo jumps in, practically bouncing in his seat. @@.boy;"Like, everyone can feel magic sometimes, even if they don't realize it. You know when you get goosebumps for no reason or when you just know someone's watching you? That's magic. Kinda. Or intuition. Or both. Who knows?"@@ Aurora holds up a hand to calm Milo. @@.aurora;"What Milo's saying is that most people are capable of sensing magic, but only some have the potential to harness it. There's something unique about you, $name. I've felt it for a while now. You've been touched by magic—maybe because of the spell, or maybe it's something that was always part of you. Either way, you have potential."@@ @@.boy;"Oh yeah, you're definitely not, like, average when it comes to magic vibes,"@@ Milo says. @@.boy;"You have the spark! We could teach you stuff."@@ @@.aurora;"If you want to explore your potential, this is the place to do it,"@@ Aurora continues. @@.aurora;"We can teach you how to sense magic more clearly, how to protect yourself, and—eventually—how to use it. But it takes time and patience. Remember that magic is a craft. It has rules."@@ @@.boy;"Rules are super important,"@@ Milo says, his tone unusually serious. @@.boy;"Make sure you don't summon stuff unless you know how to send it back. Trust me on that."@@ @@.aurora;"To answer your real question, $name, you can 'do' magic."@@ The weight of her words settles over you. The idea of being able to use magic is thrilling, but you feel it also carries a sense of responsibility. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue with the Occult Club" "Day 10 - Occult 2">><</button>>

@@.aurora;"Alright, let's start with something simple,"@@ Aurora says, reaching into a box on the table and pulling out a clear quartz crystal. It gleams faintly under the warm light, its edges catching the glow like a prism. @@.aurora;"Energy sensing is one of the first skills any practitioner learns. It's subtle, but once you feel it, you'll always recognize it."@@ She sets the crystal on the table between the three of you and gestures toward it. @@.aurora;"The goal is to quiet your mind and focus on the crystal. Let your intuition take over. You might feel warmth, a vibration, or just a sense of awareness."@@ @@.boy;"Oh, oh!"@@ Milo claps his hands together. @@.boy;"I love this one! It took me forever to get it at first, but when I finally got it? It was awesome."@@ Milo reaches out and places his hand near the crystal, squinting in concentration. @@.boy;"Yup, I feel it! A little tingly, like I just got shocked by static electricity. Your turn, $name!"@@ @@.aurora;"Make sure not to force it,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Just relax and see what you notice."@@ You hesitate, glancing at the crystal. It's small, unassuming, but something about it feels alive. You reach out, hovering your hand over it. The moment your fingers are over the surface, something shifts. It's subtle at first—a faint warmth spreading through your hand. But then it grows. The warmth turns into a pulse, like a heartbeat. A soft hum fils your ears, and a strange, electric sensation courses up your arm. The crystal glows brighter under your hand, as if its responding to you. @@.boy;"Woah,"@@ Milo whispers, eyes wide. @@.boy;"That's not normal, is it?"@@ @@.aurora;"$name, do you feel that?"@@ Aurora asks, her voice barely above a whisper. You see that her calm demeanor has cracked, her mouth slightly agape. @@.player;"I do, it feels strong,"@@ you say, struggling to find the words. The pulse intensifies, its power undeniable. It's as if the crystal is drawing something from you—or giving something to you. You pull your hand back instinctively, and the sensation stops. The crystal dims but the energy in the air remains. Aurora is silent for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the crystal as though expecting it to react again. She looks up at you, her expression a mix of awe and disbelief. @@.aurora;"$name, that wasn't just sensing energy,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You amplified it. That's not something you do on your first try."@@ @@.boy;"Amplified it?!"@@ Milo shouts, at you and then the crystal and then back at you. @@.boy;"That's insane!"@@ @@.aurora;"The crystal resonated with your energy,"@@ Aurora takes a deep breath, not knowing quite how to take this. @@.aurora;"You have an incredible amount of potential. I don't think you understand how rare this is."@@ @@.player;"Is that... bad?"@@ you ask, unsure if this newfound potential is something to fear. @@.aurora;"No, it's not bad,"@@ Aurora states. @@.aurora;"But it's powerful. If you want to explore this, you'll need to be careful—and you'll need guidance."@@ @@.boy;"Guidance?"@@ Milo asks. @@.boy;"There's no need for that, $name's going to be the magic MVP! I mean, we've got to test this more, come on. Like, what else can you do? Can you—"@@ @@.aurora;"Milo,"@@ Aurora interrupts. She's gentle but firm, and Milo immediately closes his mouth. @@.aurora;"We need to take this slow. His power is raw, and until he learns to control it, we can't risk pushing too far."@@ You glance down at the crystal, its quiet surface now feeling like a doorway to something vast and unknown. The room is silent, the weight of your decision settling over you. <<button "Let's keep going" "Day 10 - Occult 3">>\<<set $occult1magicchoice to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_magic_choice" "Let's keep going" "story">><</button>> <<button "I need some time to think about this" "Day 10 - Occult 3">>\<<set $occult1magicchoice to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_magic_choice" "I need some time to think about this" "story">><</button>>

<<if $occult1magicchoice is true>>\ <<set $mmana to Math.clamp($mmana + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I want to keep going,"@@ you mutter, wanting to unlock more of your potential. @@.player;"I want to see what else I can do."@@ Aurora studies you carefully, her gaze steady. She seems to weigh the risk of moving forward before giving a small nod. @@.aurora;"Alright,"@@ she says, nodding. @@.aurora;"We're going to take it slow though. No jumping into anything too advanced. This is about understanding what magic is. We don't want to push your limits."@@ Milo pumps his fist in the air, practically vibrating with excitement. @@.boy;"Yes, let's do this!"@@ he enthuses, picking up a notebook and a pen. @@.aurora;"Let's try this next,"@@ Aurora says, ignoring Milo's enthusiasm. She places a smooth, black stone on the table in front of you. @@.aurora;"This is obsidian, and it's often used for grounding and focusing energy. I want you to hold it this time and see if you can channel your focus into it."@@ You reach out and pick up the stone, feeling its weight in your hand. The moment your skin touches it, you feel a subtle tug. It's something quiet and deep, not like the crystal's pulse. Closing your eyes, you concentrate. The tug grows stronger. You feel the energy inside you stir again, like a current waiting to flow. You instinctively guide it toward the stone, and within seconds, a faint warmth spreads through your palm. The stone begins to glow faintly, the light from its surface rippling like water. @@.boy;"Woah,"@@ Milo breathes, leaning closer. @@.boy;"It's glowing! Aurora, is it supposed to do that?"@@ @@.aurora;"Not usually, no,"@@ she says softly, voice laced with astonishment. @@.aurora;"$name, can you feel the flow of energy? Try to control it if you can."@@ You focus harder, willing the warmth to stabilize. The glow intensifies for a moment, then steadies, casting rippling shadows across the table. The room feels charged, as though the air itself is holding its breath. @@.aurora;"Good, now let the energy return to you,"@@ Aurora says, her voice low. @@.aurora;"Don't force it—just let it flow back naturally."@@ You follow her instructions, easing your focus. The warmth begins to recede and the obsidian's glow fades until it's just a normal stone. Your eyes flicker back open to find both Aurora and Milo staring at you, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief. @@.aurora;"Incredible,"@@ Aurora says after a long pause. @@.aurora;"You didn't just sense the energy—you controlled it. That takes most people months to achieve at best."@@ @@.boy;"Months?!"@@ Milo jumps out of his seat. @@.boy;"$name's doing this in //minutes//! You're a prodigy or something! Can we try another thing?"@@ @@.aurora;"That's enough for today, Milo,"@@ Aurora raises a hand to stop him. She turns to you, her usual calm demeanor crumbling. @@.aurora;"You've already done more than I expected. Pushing further would be dangerous, especially since this is your first time."@@ @@.boy;"Fine,"@@ Milo groans but doesn't argue. @@.boy;"Next time though, I want $name to go all out. I've got ideas!"@@ Aurora laughs and shakes her head. @@.aurora;"You've shown a lot of potential today, $name. More than anyone in a long, long time. But this is just the beginning. You'll need patience and practice to explore your abilities."@@ As the clock on the wall ticks closer to the end of the club block, Aurora starts gathering the objects and cleaning everything up. The curtains come off the windows, and the room returns to usual. Milo chatters on about theories and ideas, occasionally trying to coax you into learning to summon something. You lean back in your chair, the weight of what happened settling in. The crystal, the obsidian, the energy coursing through you—it felt natural. It felt like a part of you that had always been there but was only now waking up. When the bell rings, Aurora gives you a small smile. @@.aurora;"Great work today, $name,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"Think about what you want to focus on next time. Make sure Milo doesn't pressure you into summoning anything."@@ @@.boy;"Hey, I would never do that!"@@ Milo protests. As you leave the room, you can't help but feel a spark of excitement. You feel that the Occult Club is a place where your potential, your power, can truly grow. <<else>>\ You glance down at the crystal, its faint glow gone, and feel the lingering hum of energy in your fingertips. It's overwhelming—the power, the potential, the idea that you might have something inside you that could change everything. But instead of being excited, there's a weight in your chest, a nagging sense of unease. @@.player;"I think that's enough for today,"@@ you say, shaking your head. @@.player;"I need some time to process this. All of this."@@ Aurora studies you carefully, her purple eyes searching your expression. She doesn't seem disappointed, and there's a flicker of understanding in her gaze. @@.aurora;"I understand,"@@ she says gently. @@.aurora;"It's a lot to take in. You've already done more than most people can on their first try."@@ @@.boy;"Aw, come on!"@@ Milo lets out a dramatic groan, throwing his arms up in the air. @@.boy;"You were just getting started! Who knows what you can do? You can summon something like a..."@@ Milo catches Aurora's stern gaze and trails off. @@.aurora;"Milo, $name's made his decision,"@@ Aurora says, her voice calm but firm. @@.aurora;"This isn't about rushing. magic is personal, and everything needs to move at their own pace."@@ @@.boy;"Fine,"@@ Milo sighs and slumps back in his chair. @@.boy;"But you're missing out on a lot."@@ You can't help but chuckle at how dramatic Milo is being, though you're relieved at not pushing further. The energy you felt was thrilling, to say the least, but also unnerving. It felt like opening a door to something vast and unknowable. @@.aurora;"It's important to trust yourself, $name,"@@ Aurora says softly. She reaches across the table, picks up the crystal, and places it back into the box with care. @@.aurora;"If you feel like you're not ready, it's okay to take a step back. Magic isn't just about power—it's about control and understanding."@@ @@.boy;"Yeah, I had to start real slow!"@@ Milo says. @@.boy;"It took me a week just to get the hang of sensing energy. Okay, maybe I messed up a bunch of times, but that's part of the process!"@@ The room falls into a comfortable silence as Aurora and Milo begin tidying up. They don't ask you for help, letting you mull over what happened. You watch the way Aurora carefully handles the magical objects and the way Milo bounces between tidying and making more of a mess. Despite their differences, there's an odd harmony between them. When the bell rings, signaling the end of the club block, Aurora looks at you. @@.aurora;"You've taken the first step, $name. That's more than most people do. Don't underestimate just how important that is."@@ Milo swings his bag over his shoulder and grins. @@.boy;"Don't take too long to think things over! I've got a lot of plans, and they're gonna blow your mind."@@ As you leave the room, the faint l lingers in your fingertips. It's a quiet reminder of the power resting inside you. You're not ready to dive in just yet, but you can't shake the feeling that this is only the beginning of something far bigger than you ever imagined. <</if>>\ <<button "Go to lunch" "Day 10 - 5">><</button>>

The Occult Club meets in a small, dimly lit room tucked away in an unused corner of the school. The only clue to its purpose was a small, hand-drawn sign taped to the door: "Occult Club - Enter If You Dare!" You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you made the right choice. The door to the Occult Club creaks as you push it open, revealing a dimly lit classroom. The windows are covered by thick, dark curtains, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. The air smells faintly of old books and incense. At the center of the room is a round wooden table, its surface covered in an assortment of strange items. Two chairs are already occupied, with a third that seems to be open for you. One of them is Aurora, and she's dressed in her usual layered black attire. She looks up as you enter, her purple eyes staring deep into you. @@.aurora;"Hello, $name,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Welcome to the Occult Club. I was hoping you'd show up."@@ The other student—a short boy with messy brown hair and glasses that are far too large for his face—looks up as well. He's surrounded by an explosion of notebooks, papers, and a half-eaten bar of chocolate. @@.boy;"Oh! Hi! You're the new guy, right? $name? I'm Milo!"@@ His words come out in a rush, and he gives a quick wave, knocking over a small stack of books in the process. @@.boy;"Oops, sorry."@@ Aurora suppresses a small smile but gestures for you to take a seat at the table. You sit down, feeling the faint buzz of energy in the air. @@.aurora;"So, welcome to our small club,"@@ she begins, her voice calm. @@.aurora;"Officially, we're here to study folklore, myths, and the supernatural. Unofficially though, we know there's more to the world than what most people see. I'm sure you know."@@ You nod, Madame Serena's $referto still fresh in your mind. @@.player;"Yeah, of course,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"I've seen and experienced things."@@ @@.boy;"Ooh, like what?"@@ Milo leans forward, his eyes wide with curiosity. @@.boy;"Is it ghosts? No, maybe interdimensional portals! They're super freaky, I've been reading about them."@@ @@.aurora;"Milo,"@@ Aurora says gently but commandingly. @@.aurora;"Let $name share what he wants to, alright?"@@ Milo sits back, fiddling with the edge of his notebook. @@.boy;"Yeah, sorry."@@ @@.aurora;"When we talked before, I could sense something different about you,"@@ Aurora whispers, leaning in slightly. @@.aurora;"If you're here, I'm assuming you're looking for answers. We might be able to help."@@ She slides a thin, leather-bound book toward you. Its cover is embossed with an intricate, swirling design. Milo immediately perks up upon seeing it. @@.boy;"I love that book, it's one of my favorites!"@@ the words tumble out of his mouth. @@.boy;"It's got all kinds of stuff in it—rituals, runes, even some stories about ancient curses! Make sure you don't skip the chapter on protective charms though."@@ Aurora shakes her head fondly. @@.aurora;"What Milo means is that we've got a lot of resources here. We're here to figure out what you need. Before we get started though, do you have a question? Only one though, we have a lot to do."@@ You glance between Aurora, with her calm expression, and Milo, who's bouncing in his seat. They're waiting for you to ask a question, and you realize this is your chance to start uncovering the secrets of magic. <<button "What do you actually do in this club?" "Day 10 - Occult 1">>\<<set $occult1question to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D10_occult_question" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Who is Milo?" "Day 10 - Occult 1">>\<<set $occult1question to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D10_occult_question" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Is magic real for everyone?" "Day 10 - Occult 1">>\<<set $occult1question to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D10_occult_question" 2 "story">><</button>>

<<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $yearbook1introConfident is true>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You lean back slightly in your chair, keeping your tone casual but confident as you speak. @@.player;"Hey, I'm $name,"@@ you say, offering a small nod to the group. @@.player;"I figured this would be a fun way to do something different this year. I like working on projects, so I thought I'd give it a shot."@@ Charlotte nods, jotting something down on her clipboard. @@.girl;"Good to have you, $name,"@@ she says with a welcoming smile. @@.girl;"We're always looking for people who aren't afraid to try something new."@@ Jordan glances at you briefly, his expression unreadable, but you catch the faintest flicker of curiosity in his eyes before he looks away again. <<else>>\ <<set $sarcastic += 5>>\ <<set $genuine -= 5>>\ You lean forward slightly, a smirk playing on your lips as you speak. @@.player;"I'm $name, and I'm here because yearbooks are obviously the most exciting thing in high school,"@@ you say, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. @@.player;"Who doesn't want to spend hours choosing fonts and arranging pictures? It's every teenager's dream."@@ There's a brief moment of silence before a few people laugh, including Charlotte, who raises an eyebrow and grins. @@.girl;"Well, I can't argue it can be a little much at times, but the final result makes it all worth it,"@@ she says, scribbling something down on her clipboard. Jordan glances up from his phone and shakes his head slightly, muttering something under his breath you can't quite hear. You're not sure if he liked or disliked your introduction, but you've at least caught his attention. <</if>>\ Charlotte signals it's time to move on after everyone finishes introducing themselves. She claps her hands, her green hair bouncing slightly as she shifts her focus back to the group. @@.girl;"Alright, now that we've got the introductions out of the way, let's talk about themes,"@@ she says, a bright smile on her face. @@.girl;"The yearbook isn't just a random collection of pages—it's a reflection of the year, the vibe of the school, and the people in it."@@ She pulls out a thick binder, plopping it onto the table with a thud. The cover reads //Yearbook Club// in handwritten letters. @@.girl;"This binder has a bunch of stuff from the last ten years of Pacific Crest's Yearbook Club,"@@ Charlotte explains. @@.girl;"Most importantly for today's club meeting, it has the past themes! It's good for inspiration and making sure we don't copy a past yearbook. Make sure to think big—what kind of story do we want to tell about this year?"@@ The group leans in, murmuring ideas and pointing at the binder. @@.boy;"What about something futuristic?"@@ Simon suggests. @@.boy;"Like '2025: A School Odyssey' or something?"@@ @@.girl;"Futuristic sounds cool,"@@ Charlotte agrees, jotting it down. @@.girl;"Let's keep brainstorming. Any other ideas?"@@ Jordan, who hasn't muttered a single word thus far, suddenly speaks up. @@.jordan;"What about something simple?"@@ he suggests. @@.jordan;"We don't need any gimmicks, just a theme that highlights the students and focuses on the people."@@ @@.girl;"Like a focus on portraits and personal stories?"@@ Charlotte asks, nodding thoughtfully. You sit back, listening as the ideas flow. Some suggest vibrant, colorful themes, while others lean toward minimalist concepts. Charlotte writes down every suggestion, nodding and occasionally adding her own thoughts. @@.girl;"Alright, we've got a solid list of ideas here,"@@ Charlotte says after twenty minutes. @@.girl;"Let's see where everyone fits in and what role you all will have. Photography, design, writing, editing, and more. There's a ton that goes into a yearbook, and we need to know what everyone's strengths are."@@ She divides the room into smaller groups, and you end up in a design-focused group with Jordan and Simon. Charlotte hands out sheets of paper and some markers. @@.girl;"This is a quick exercise,"@@ she explains. @@.girl;"I want you to come up with a mock layout for a two-page spread. Imagine this is for the theme we just brainstormed. Just make it creative, it doesn't need to be perfect or anything."@@ @@.jordan;"I'm not much of an artist,"@@ Jordan mutters, crossing his arms. Simon rolls his eyes playfully. @@.boy;"It's just an exercise. Nobody's going to judge if you draw stick figures."@@ @@.player;"Alright, what if this page had a big story in the middle, and we framed it with smaller pictures and quotes?"@@ you suggest, picking up a marker. @@.jordan;"That could work,"@@ Jordan shrugs. @@.jordan;"Maybe add a border to tie it into the team."@@ Simon nods enthusiastically, sketching a few lines. @@.boy;"Over here, we could have a section for candid photos or interviews."@@ The three of you bounce ideas back and forth, and unexpectedly, even Jordan gets into it. By the time Charlotte walks over to check on your progress, your page has a surprisingly polished look. @@.girl;"This looks awesome,"@@ Charlotte says, her eyes lighting up as she examines what the three of you created. @@.girl;"Great work, I can already tell this is going to be a strong yearbook team."@@ Charlotte steps back once she finishes checking on everyone and addresses the entire room. @@.girl;"Awesome work, everyone!"@@ she enthuses. @@.girl;"These layouts are a great start, and I'm getting an idea of how to structure the final yearbook already. Next time, we'll refine these concepts and start assigning specific pages to different teams."@@ The group murmurs in agreement, as everyone begins to tidy up their workspace. @@.girl;"But I also want to do another activity,"@@ Charlotte continues, holding up a sketch of papers. @@.girl;"Since this is Yearbook Club, it's only fitting that we include a section about us in the yearbook! The team that made it all happen! So, as a quick exercise, we're going to make personal profiles."@@ She starts handing out sheets of paper, each one printed with prompts. @@.girl;"Think of this as a little snapshot of who you are,"@@ Charlotte explains. @@.girl;"Not only will it help us get to know each other better, it'll serve as nice practice about how to tell other people's stories in the yearbook."@@ @@.boy;"This is a cute idea,"@@ Simon says, picking up his sheet with a smile. @@.boy;"I love these kind of prompts."@@ @@.jordan;"I joined the football team to escape these,"@@ Jordan mutters, eyeing the sheet warily. As you tap your pen against the desk as you glance over the questions, thinking about how to represent yourself. The room hums with the sound of scribbling pens and quiet chatter. When you glance over at Jordan, you see him frowning at his paper like it's a math test. This small, reflective task is quiet and introspective. It's a moment to think about how you want to come across not just to the group but to anyone flipping through the yearbook next year. <<button "Lean in a softer, more expressive style" "Day 10 - Yearbook 2">>\<<set $yearbook1femprofile to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_yearbook_profile" "soft" "story">><</button>> <<button "Lean in a stronger, more confident style" "Day 10 - Yearbook 2">>\<<set $yearbook1femprofile to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_yearbook_profile" "strong" "story">><</button>>

<<if $yearbook1femprofile is true>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You glance down at the sheet, reading through the prompts carefully. You focus on your own answers as you consider how you want to present yourself. The first prompt, "//three words to describe yourself//," stands out. After a moment, you write: //imaginative, thoughtful, detail-oriented.// They feel right—words that show you're someone who cares about ideas and how they're expressed. Next is "//favorite school memory//." You smile a little, thinking back to a moment that felt meaningful. You decide on: //Helping organize the school track meet last year//. It's a memory that speaks to how much you enjoy working behind the scenes to make things special. For "//dream job//," you take a moment to think. Something creative but impactful feels right, so you write: //event planner//. It reflects your interest in aesthetics and creating meaningful experiences. The last prompt, "//why you joined the Yearbook Club//," gives you pause. You want to express your excitement without overthinking it, so you write: //To work on something creative that brings the school together//. As you finish writing, you look at your answers and feel a quiet sense of satisfaction. They feel authentic and give a glimpse of your personality. When Charlotte comes around to collect the sheets, she glances briefly at yours and smiles warmly. @@.girl;"This is great, $name! I can tell you're going to bring a lot of heart to the club."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at the sheet, reading through the prompts again. The words "//three words to describe yourself//" catch your attention first. You think carefully, tapping your pen against the table. Finally, you write: //determined, focused, ambitious//. They're not flashy, but they feel like the right words. The kind of image you want to project. Next is the prompt "//favorite school memory//". You hesitate for a moment, then jot down something that shows your competitive side: //Winning the relay race during last year's track meet//. It's straightforward but says a lot about what you value. For "//dream job,//" you write something bold and aspirational: //CEO of a tech company//. It shows that you aim high, which is nice. The prompt "//why you joined the Yearbook Club//" makes you pause. You want to keep the tone consistent, so you write: //To challenge me with something new and contribute to the school//. You finish up and place the paper down. When Charlotte comes to collect the sheets, she smiles as she glances at what you wrote. @@.girl;"It looks like you've got a clear vision of who you are, $name. That's good."@@ <</if>>\ As the hum of conversation fades and Charlotte finishes collecting the personal profiles, she moves back to the front of the room with her clipboard in hand. She taps the stack of papers on her desk lightly, drawing everyone's attention. @@.girl;"Alright, awesome work on these profiles,"@@ Charlotte says. @@.girl;"I'll go through these later to get a sense of everyone's vibe. But before we wrap up, there's one last thing we need to tackle for today. We're going to be choosing the theme for this year's yearbook!"@@ The room stirs with quiet excitement. Simon sits forward eagerly while Jordan leans back, looking indifferent. @@.girl;"We had some amazing suggestions but I've narrowed it down to three strong contenders based on what you all shared earlier. Let's take a quick vote to decide. Remember, the theme will shape how we design, organize, and tell the story of this school year!"@@ She writes down the three options on the whiteboard at the front of the room. <ol>\ <li>A School Odyssey</li> A futuristic theme with sleek, digital-inspired layouts and a focus on forward-thinking. <li>Through the Lens</li> A photography-driven theme highlighting candid moments and personal stories of students and staff. <li>Timeless Traditions</li> A nostalgic theme celebrating the school's history, traditions, and the moments that define the year. </ol>\ Charlotte turns back to the group. @@.girl;"Take a minute to think and then write down your choice on these slips of paper. We'll tally the votes anonymously."@@ As the slips make their way to you, you weigh your options. <<button "Choose A School Odyssey" "Day 10 - Yearbook 3">>\<<set $yearbooktheme to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D10_yearbook_theme" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Choose Through the Lens" "Day 10 - Yearbook 3">>\<<set $yearbooktheme to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D10_yearbook_theme" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Choose Timeless Traditions" "Day 10 - Yearbook 3">>\<<set $yearbooktheme to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D10_yearbook_theme" 2 "story">><</button>>

You make your choice and jot it down on the slip of paper. You fold the paper and glance at the others as you wait. When everyone has finished, Charlotte places a small basket at the front of the room. You drop in your slip of paper, the small action feeling oddly significant. @@.girl;"I'll tally all of these and announce the winner next week!"@@ Charlotte smiles, holding the basket like it's filled with secrets. @@.girl;"Great job today, everyone."@@ The group begins to gather their things, the buzz of conversation filling the room again. Jordan brushes past you on his way out\ <<if $jordanRelo > 4>>\ , offering a nod as he slings his bag over his shoulder. \ <<else>>\ . \ <</if>>\ Simon gives you a cheerful wave before heading out, and you find yourself lingering in the room for a moment, the weight of the day's work settling in. As you finally step out of the room, you can't help but feel like you've taken the first step in leaving your mark on the school. <<button "Go to lunch" "Day 10 - 5">><</button>>

The Yearbook Club meets in a small, brightly lit room. Shelves are stacked with binders, folders, and photo equipment. The air smells faintly of ink and paper, and the faint hum of a printer lingers in the background. A group of students have already gathered near the front of the room, chatting amongst themselves. You scan the club room, and your eyes land on Jordan, the school's star football player. He's off to the side, leaning casually against a desk with his arms crossed. He looks completely out of place, his athletic stance a stark contrast to the more artsy vibe of the rest of the club. Jordan glances up and meets your eyes for a moment before looking away, his expression unreadable. He's certainly aware of your presence, but you get the sense he's not going to acknowledge it. At the center of the group stands a girl with short, choppy hair dyed a shade of light green. She's wearing a black turtleneck and has a pair of round glasses on. She has a clipboard in her hands and flips through some papers as she talks. @@.girl;"Alright everyone, let's get started,"@@ she says, her voice warm but no-nonsense. @@.girl;"Welcome to the Yearbook Club. For those of those who don't know me, I'm Charlotte, your fearless leader and editor-in-chief of this operation."@@ Charlotte looks around the room, her eyes scanning the group. When her gaze lands on you and a few other faces, she pauses briefly, her brow furrowing in curiosity. @@.girl;"Looks like we've got a few new faces this year, which is great. We can use all the help we can get. The yearbook is a reflection of the entire school, and it's our job to make sure it tells a story. We can't just slap some pictures together and call it a day."@@ There's a murmur of agreement from the group, though Jordan remains silent. Charlotte lets the room quiet down before clapping, drawing everyone's attention back to her. @@.girl;"Now, before we dive into brainstorming themes, layouts, and all that fun stuff, let's do some quick introductions,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Just your name, why you joined the club, and what you hope to bring to the yearbook this year!"@@ She gestures to a boy sitting nearby, who introduces himself as Simon. He talks about his love of photography. The introductions move around the room, each person sharing their interests. When it's Jordan's turn, he straightens up slightly, sliding his phone into his pocket. @@.jordan;"Jordan,"@@ he says simply, his tone as flat as can be. @@.jordan;"Coach made me join. He said I needed to 'diversify my extracurriculars' or something."@@ @@.girl;"Well, we're glad to have you Jordan,"@@ Charlotte says politely, although you can tell she's a little worried. @@.girl;"I'm sure you'll bring a unique perspective to the team."@@ Finally, your turn arrives. Charlotte looks at you expectantly, clipboard in hand, ready to write something down. The room quiets, waiting to hear what you have to say. Even Jordan glances your way, his expression unchanging. <<button "Be confident with your introduction" "Day 10 - Yearbook 1">>\<<set $yearbook1introConfident to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_yearbook_intro" "confident" "story">><</button>> <<button "Be playful with your introduction" "Day 10 - Yearbook 1">>\<<set $yearbook1introConfident to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_yearbook_intro" "playful" "story">><</button>>

<<set $day to 10>>\ <img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> The shrill blare of your alarm yanks you out of sleep, but it's not the //first// alarm—it's the //last//. The one you set as a fail-safe. Groggy and disoriented, you turn on your phone and check the time. ''7:45 AM.'' Your heart lurches. If you didn't get to school in fifteen minutes, you'd be late for your first class of the day. Today was a Wednesday, which meant your schedule was a little weird. Wednesdays are club days, so you will have your first class of the day at 8. The time usually reserved for homeroom was moved to before lunch. You check the clock again and a minute has passed while you were thinking about your school's schedule. @@.player;"Shit!"@@ you mutter, kicking off your blanket and scrambling out of bed. No time to brush your teeth, no time to think—you just have to get to school. By the time you get your shoes on and dash out the door, your hair is a mess, and you're certain you forgot something important. You begin to run, your shoes pounding against the pavement as you try to calculate how much time you have left before your first class. By the time you reach school, your lungs are burning, and you're sure you look like you just stumbled out of a storm. The hallway is eerily quiet, and you make your way to Mr. Reeds' English Literature class. Just as you reach the door, you pause for a moment, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. Your hair's a mess, your shirt feels slightly damp, and you're acutely aware of how disheveled you must look. You push open the door. You interrupt Mr. Reeds mid-sentence. The entire class turns to look at you as the door creaks open. @@.boy;"Ah, Mr. Yoon,"@@ Mr. Reeds says. @@.boy;"Have you decided to grace us with your presence after all?"@@ You wince, managing a sheepish apology. He gestures toward your seat. @@.boy;"Take your seat, we are discussing The Metamorphosis. I trust you've done your homework?"@@ @@.player;"Yes, yes, I did it,"@@ you manage to say as you slide into your chair. You avoid eye contact with everyone, and your heart is racing. You're unsure if it's because of embarrassment or exertion, though. <<button "Listen to Mr. Reeds' lesson" "Day 10 - 2">><</button>>

<<if $d10dramascenario is true>>\ @@.player;"Alright, here's what I'm thinking,"@@ you say, crossing your arms and leaning slightly toward Jordan. @@.player;"Your character and mine are meeting in secret, but it's our last chance to see each other before you duel my brother at dawn."@@ @@.jordan;"Duel your brother?"@@ Jordan asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"That sounds intense. So what's the vibe we're going to go for here?"@@ @@.player;"It's all about the tension,"@@ you reply, gesturing vaguely. @@.player;"This mix of anger, fear, and love. Maybe I'm begging you not to go, trying to convince you to leave town instead of fighting. You're caught between what's expected of you and what you actually want."@@ @@.jordan;"Alright, alright, I see it,"@@ Jordan says as he leans back, his brow furrowed in thought. @@.jordan;"I'm trying to act all noble and self-sacrificing, and you're breaking down because you think I'm gonna die."@@ @@.player;"So, the scene starts with us meeting somewhere—maybe in the garden behind my family's house,"@@ you begin, trying to flesh out the details. @@.player;"It's late, and we're both looking over our shoulders, paranoid about someone catching us. The conversation starts tense, like we're both trying to pretend everything's fine. But then it'll escalate into this emotional mess."@@ @@.jordan;"Okay, I'll be talking about how I have no choice and that it's about honor,"@@ he nods slowly, starting to get into it. @@.jordan;"You can talk about your need to keep me from getting killed."@@ @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"You get to play the tragic hero and I get to play the desperate one."@@ The two of you quickly sketch out the dialogue, trading ideas and occasionally arguing over the phrasing. Jordan's surprisingly invested, offering suggestions. By the time Mr. Bennet announces the end of brainstorming time, you're feeling confident. The scene you've created is heavy, emotional, and full of stakes—exactly what Mr. Bennet had demanded. As Jordan leans back with a satisfied look, you can't help but feel like the two of you might actually be able to pull this off. And maybe, just maybe, you're starting to see a different side of Jordan—one that isn't so bad after all. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Alright, picture this,"@@ you say, crossing your arms and glancing at Jordan with a small grin. @@.player;"Your character sneaks into my family's masquerade ball. You're in disguise, trying to blend in, but you risk everything to pull me aside for a private conversation."@@ @@.jordan;"So I'm basically James Bond?"@@ Jordan asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"Sounds risky."@@ @@.player;"Exactly, we're talking tension,"@@ you say, gesturing animatedly. @@.player;"Every word we say has to be whispered because we're surrounded by people who'd lose it if they knew you were here. It's a mix of fear, urgency, and forbidden romance."@@ @@.jordan;"Alright, and what are we talking about? Just catching up, or are we plotting something big?"@@ @@.player;"It could go either way,"@@ you say, shrugging. You're already imagining the scene. @@.player;"But I'm thinking of something simple. You're here to tell me it's getting too dangerous for us to keep meeting. Maybe you're trying to say goodbye, but I don't want to let you go."@@ Jordan tilts his head, considering what you're saying. @@.jordan;"So we're whispering like we're in a spy movie, throwing in some emotional tension, and then it'll end with one of us walking away. Short and dramatic, I've got it."@@ With the plan sketched out, you quickly decide on some key beats: the initial meeting, the tension of being surrounded by people, and the dramatic goodbye as Jordan's character reluctantly leaves the ball. The details fall into place, with Jordan offering simple but effective suggestions. By the time Mr. Bennet calls for the brainstorming to stop, you feel confident about the scene. The masquerade setting, the tension, and the emotional stakes all feel like they'll play well. And working with Jordan isn't as bad as you thought it'd be. <</if>>\ <<button "Act it out" "Day 10 - 11">><</button>>

<<if $d10dramascenario is true>>\ The class quiets as you take your place in the center of the stage with Jordan. Mr. Bennet is perched on the edge of his desk, watching with an expression of eager anticipation. In front of the stage, your peers sit with varying degrees of interest. Some seem interested, some doodle in their notebooks, and some seem to be more concerned about their own performance than yours. You take a deep breath, step into the role, and start the scene. @@.player;"If anyone sees us together, it's over,"@@ you say, your voice hushed but filled with urgency as you turn toward Jordan. @@.player;"You know what my father would do if he knew you were here."@@ You soon realize your fears of Jordan not trying were unnecessary. Jordan shifts his stance, his hands clenched at the sides. @@.jordan;"And what would you have me do?"@@ he asks, his voice steady but laced with frustration. @@.jordan;"Run away like a ''coward''? Leave you here to face them alone? That's not who I am. You know that."@@ You shake your head and pace slightly, letting the emotions build. @@.player;"This isn't about bravery,"@@ you reply, your tone cracking just enough to hint at desperation. @@.player;"It's about survival. If you fight my brother, he'll kill you. You don't know what he's capable of."@@ Jordan straightens, his jaw tightening. @@.jordan;"Then so be it,"@@ he says, stepping toward you. @@.jordan;"If this is the price I have to pay to protect my honor and what we have, then I'll face it. I'm not afraid to die."@@ The words hang in the air, heavy with tension. You feel the room watching, the silence thick around you. This is the moment. <<else>>\ The classroom quiets as you and Jordan step into the center of the stage. Mr. Bennet adjusts his scarf, settling in with an expectant smile as he leans against this desk. The other students sit in front of the stage, their eyes flicking toward the two of you. Some seem curious while others are only half paying attention. You glance at Jordan, who gives you a barely perceptible nod. His posture is relaxed but purposeful, and despite his usual attitude, you can tell he's ready to perform. You begin the scene, your voice hushed but urgent. @@.player;"What are you doing here?"@@ you whisper, looking around the imaginary ballroom with paranoia. @@.player;"If anyone sees you, it's over. You're risking everything by coming here."@@ Jordan adjusts his stance, his imaginary mask firmly in place as he keeps his tone low and steady. @@.jordan;"I had to see you,"@@ he replies, his eyes darting to the invisible crowd around you. @@.jordan;"This might be the last time. Your father's already suspicious. If he finds out, I'm done."@@ You let your gaze flicker to the crowd, then back at him, your voice laced with panic. @@.player;"Then why come at all? Why risk everything just for a conversation?"@@ @@.jordan;"Because I couldn't leave without telling you the truth,"@@ Jordan says, taking a step closer. @@.jordan;"This isn't just about us anymore—it's about what they'll do if we're caught. I can't lose you like this."@@ The intensity builds as you both weave the tension of secrecy into every line. The room feels smaller and quieter as the rest of the class seems to hold its breath. You realize this is the moment to show off your acting chops. <</if>>\ <<button "Go all in" "Day 10 - 12">>\<<set $d10dramaallin to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_drama_all_in" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Hold back for subtlety" "Day 10 - 12">>\<<set $d10dramaallin to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_drama_all_in" false "story">><</button>>

<<set $improvCG to true>>\ <<set $improvCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $improvCGhairtie to $hairtie>>\ <<set $improvCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $improvCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $improvCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ \ <<include "CG_Improv">>\ <<if $d10dramascenario is true>>\ <<if $d10dramaallin is true>>\ <<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tdelivery to Math.clamp($tdelivery + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You step closer to Jordan, letting your voice rise with raw emotion. You grab his arm, your eyes wide with fear and frustration. @@.player;"You're not protecting anything by throwing your life away! If you die, this—all of this—dies with you!"@@ Your hands tremble slightly as you step back. @@.player;"I can't lose you too. Please... Please don't do this."@@ <<else>>\ You keep your voice steady, your tone subdued but firm. @@.player;"You're not protecting anything by going through with this. You're letting them win. Don't you see that? If you fight him, they'll get exactly what they want—both of us destroyed. There's another way. There //has// to be."@@ <</if>>\ @@.jordan;"And what other way is there?"@@ Jordan responds, his voice quieter now, filled with conflict. @@.jordan;"Do you want me to run and hide while they call me a coward? I can't live like that."@@ You feel the weight of his words, and for a moment, the room falls silent. The energy between the two of you is electric, the stakes clear to everyone watching. Finally, Jordan turns away, his shoulders stiff. @@.jordan;"This is the only way,"@@ he says, his voice low. @@.jordan;"I'll fight him... and I'll win. For us."@@ You step forward, reaching out as if to stop him but letting your hand drop before it reaches his shoulder. @@.player;"You don't have to do this,"@@ you say, your voice breaking. @@.player;"But if you are going to... promise me you'll come back."@@ Jordan pauses, glancing over his shoulder. For a moment, he looks at you, his usual stoicism breaking into something softer. @@.jordan;"I promise."@@ With that, he walks off, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. The silence stretches for a moment after Jordan's final line and exit, the room caught in the scene. Then, as if on cue, Mr. Bennet rises dramatically from his perch on the desk, clapping his hands together as if he just witnessed a masterpiece. @@.boy;"Magnificent!"@@ he exclaims, his scarf trailing behind him as he steps forward. @@.boy;"$name, Jordan—what you've just given us is nothing short of //theater//!"@@ His voice carries across the room, and you feel the weight of everyone's attention as Mr. Bennet gestures to you both, his expression one of pure delight. <<if $d10dramaallin is true>>\ Mr. Bennet points at you, his eyes sparkling. @@.boy;"$name, my boy, that was ''raw'' emotion! You threw yourself into that scene with abandon—your desperation was palpable! When you grabbed Jordan's arm, I could feel the stakes rising; the fear, the love, the anger—it all poured out of you!"@@ He presses a hand to his heart as if moved. @@.boy;"Your voice carried the weight of someone who was truly fighting for their life!"@@ he continues, pacing slightly as he speaks. @@.boy;"You weren't just acting; you truly //were// that character. The trembling hands, the way your voice cracked at just the right moment—it was sublime! That's the kind of energy that turns good theater into unforgettable theater."@@ Mr. Bennet then turns to Jordan, his tone still encouraging but a touch more measured. @@.boy;"And Jordan, you played an excellent counterpoint. The stoicism and restraint—it created a brilliant contrast to $name's fervor. But remember: even in moments of calm, there's fire beneath the surface. Let us feel that conflict simmering, that turmoil threatening to boil over. Still, very well done."@@ Your drama teacher steps back, looking at the class. @@.boy;"Show of hands for those here who felt stakes in that scene!"@@ Several students raise their hands and a surge of pride rips through you. <<else>>\ Mr. Bennet nods approvingly, stepping forward. @@.boy;"$name, Jordan—excellent work. The scene carried the tension it needed, and you both stayed grounded in your roles. $name, you brought a quiet intensity to the scene that worked beautifully. The measured tone and the pacing of your words, they all gave the impression of someone holding back their emotions. It was subtle yet effective."@@ He pauses, tilting his head thoughtfully. @@.boy;"That being said, don't be afraid to let go just a little more. There's a fine line between subtlety and holding back too much. Your character was desperate, but you could've pushed that edge a little more. You could've let us see the cracks forming in the calm exterior. But overall, very strong work."@@ @@.boy;"And Jordan, your restraint played nicely against $name's steadiness,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, turning to Jordan with a slight smile. @@.boy;"It added a layer of tension to the scene, like a rubber band stretched just short of snapping. It was really well done, but next time, I'd love to see you let that band snap. Just for a moment, of course. The contrast would be electric."@@ Stepping back, your drama teacher addresses the room. @@.boy;"Now, who here felt the weight of their scene? Raise your hands!"@@ A few students raise their hands, nodding in agreement, while others murmur quietly. <</if>>\ Mr. Bennet clasps his hands together once again, his tone shifting back to his usual theatrical cheer. @@.boy;"Take your seats, and let's move on to the next pair!"@@ As you and Jordan head back to your seats, you catch a few murmurs from your classmates. Someone whispers, @@.boy;"That was intense,"@@ while another says, @@.girl;"I could never pull that off."@@ Jordan's unfazed, as usual, but you smile. <<else>>\ <<if $d10dramaallin is true>>\ <<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tdelivery to Math.clamp($tdelivery + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a bold step forward, grabbing Jordan by the lapels of his imaginary disguise. Your voice rises with urgency, but you keep it low enough to maintain the illusion of secrecy. @@.player;"Then stay!"@@ you say, making your hands tremble. @@.player;"Don't leave! If you walk away, it's over. All of it! If you mean what you say, don't you dare walk out of that door."@@ <<else>>\ You keep your movements restrained, letting your voice carry the weight of the emotion. @@.player;"Then why leave at all?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Why start something you're too afraid to finish? You say you can't lose me, but every time you leave, you do exactly that. So tell me, truly tell me, is this goodbye again?"@@ <</if>>\ @@.jordan;"You think I want to leave?"@@ Jordan leans in slightly, his tone quiet but charged. @@.jordan;"I don't have a choice. If they catch me here, they'll kill me. You'll hate me even more for bringing this down on you."@@ Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, the room feels charged with unspoken words. You step back, glancing through the crowd as though weighing his words. @@.player;"Then go,"@@ you say, your voice trembling slightly. @@.player;"If you're afraid, just go. But don't come back unless you're ready to fight for this. For ''us''."@@ Jordan hesitates, his jaw tightening. He looks at you for a long moment before turning away, his shoulders stiff with resolve. @@.jordan;"I'll come back, I promise,"@@ he says, his voice low and determined. @@.jordan;"When it's safe. When I can give you the life you deserve. Stay safe... for me."@@ With that, he walks off, leaving you standing alone in the imaginary ballroom as the scene closes. The classroom is silent for a moment after the scene concludes, the tension lingering in the air. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, Mr. Bennet leaps to his feet, clapping with unbridled enthusiasm. @@.boy;"Bravo!"@@ he exclaims, his voice booming across the entire room. @@.boy;"An excellent performance—both of you! Let's talk about what made it work."@@ <<if $d10dramaallin is true>>\ Mr. Bennet turns to you first, his eyes sparkling with excitement. @@.boy;"$name! My dear boy, that was ''passion incarnate''! When you grabbed Jordan's lapels, I felt the electricity—your desperation, your plea, your unwillingness to let go. That physicality brought the scene to life. You weren't just delivering lines; you were embodying the moment and your character. Your movements and your trembling hands all told a story before you even began speaking. That's the kind of boldness that makes an audience forget they're watching a play and feel like they're living it."@@ @@.boy;"Take note, everyone!"@@ your drama teacher gestured toward the class, addressing them with dramatic flair. @@.boy;"This is what happens when you commit to the stakes with your whole being. $name gave us tension, emotion, and action—all in one package. It was truly inspiring."@@ Turning to Jordan, Mr. Bennet smiles. @@.boy;"Jordan, your restraint worked beautifully against $name's intensity. You gave us a solid anchor, someone who felt steady but conflicted, which only amplified $name's raw desperation. It was a perfect counterbalance. Well done to the both of you!"@@ You feel a rush of pride as several students nod in agreement, a few murmuring words of praise. The spark of confidence from your bold choice lingers as you head back to your seat, feeling like you've made a real impact. <<else>>\ Mr. Bennet folds his arms and nods thoughtfully as he addresses you. @@.boy;"$name, a restrained performance can be just as powerful as an explosive one, and you proved that. The quiet intensity you brought to the scene gave the impression of someone teetering on the edge but holding it together just enough to make the heartbreak even more poignant."@@ @@.boy;"However, I must say, there were moments where I wanted just a //little// more,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, his expression contemplative. @@.boy;"A step closer, a hand reaching out—something to show the internal conflict bubbling beneath the surface. Don't be afraid to take a risk and let those cracks show next time. That said, the subtlety you brought was haunting in its own way."@@ @@.boy;"And Jordan, your grounded performance played perfectly against $name's restraint,"@@ he says, turning to Jordan. @@.boy;"The quiet tension between the two of you felt authentic and kept the scene taut. Nicely done."@@ As you head back to your seat, you catch a few murmurs from the other students, most of them impressed. Although you didn't take the bold route, you feel confident in the emotional depth you brought to the performance. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 10 - 13">><</button>>

The final minutes of class tick away as Mr. Bennet steps forward, his scarf flaring dramatically as he addresses the room. The buzz of conversation dies down as everyone turns to him. @@.boy;"Well, my budding thespians, today has been an exceptional start,"@@ he begins. @@.boy;"The sparks of creativity! The raw emotion! The stakes! I couldn't be prouder of you all."@@ @@.boy;"But, we are just beginning to scratch the surface,"@@ he says, his voice rising. @@.boy;"Our masterpiece, //Romeo and Juliet//, is what we're preparing for. To truly embody the spirit of the play, you must dive into the poetry, the words, the ''soul'' of Shakespeare's work. Therefore, your assignment is to read the first two acts of //Romeo and Juliet// before our next class. Take your time with it and let the language wash over you like a symphony."@@ @@.boy;"While you're doing that, I want you to start thinking about the question of what role interests you. Every role is vital for this production. We'll discuss your thoughts next class, and the auditions will be upon us before you know it. So prepare, my students, and let the spirit of Shakespeare guide you!"@@ The bell rings just as he finishes, and the room bursts into movement as students begin gathering their things. Mr. Bennet waves you all off with a flourish. You step out of the drama room, thoughts of the play and its characters swirling in your mind. They mingle with the lingering energy of your earlier scene. Whatever happens next, it's clear this production is going to be an adventure. <<if $d10hangout is true>>\ <<button "Go to hang out with Samantha" "Day 10 - Samantha">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Go to hang out with Luke" "Day 10 - Luke">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriornd.png"> You walk up the driveway to your house, the warmth of the day still lingering in the air. The energy of the day has left you buzzing, a mix of excitement and exhaustion. Pushing open the front door, you're greeted by the familiar smell of home—a faint hint of dinner cooking wafting in from the kitchen. @@.girl;"$name?"@@ you hear your mom's voice call out from the living room. @@.girl;"Is that you?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, it's me,"@@ you reply, kicking off your shoes and tossing down your bag. <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ The front door clicks behind you, and almost immediately, your mom steps into the hallway, dish towel still in hand. She stops mid-step, her expression freezing as her eyes land on you. She doesn't move, her eyes scanning your face, your posture, the way your clothes seem to hang on you differently. It's almost like she's seeing you for the first time. <<if $eventMomNotice isnot undefined>>\ @@.girl;"Christ, $name,"@@ your Mom says, putting her hand on her hips. @@.girl;"I know we talked about this a few days ago, but this is... This is a lot."@@ @@.player;"I'm fine Mom, don't worry,"@@ you say, letting out an awkward laugh. <<if $eventMomNotice is true>>\ @@.girl;"Fine?"@@ she repeats, her voice rising slightly. @@.girl;"$name, you got cursed and now you're slowly becoming a girl and that's fine?"@@ <<else>>\ @@.girl;"I try to understand, $name, I really do,"@@ she begins, shaking her head. @@.girl;"But you are going to tell me what the hell is going on sooner than later."@@ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ @@.girl;"What...?"@@ she begins, her brow furrowing deeply. She takes a cautious step closer, her gaze locked onto you. @@.girl;"What's going on with you? You look... different. ''Really'' different. Is something wrong?"@@ @@.player;"I'm fine, Mom,"@@ you say, letting out an awkward laugh. @@.girl;"Fine?"@@ she repeats, her voice rising slightly. @@.girl;"$name, look at yourself. You don't... you don't even look like yourself right now. Everything is just softer, different. It's almost like..."@@ <</if>>\ Before you can respond, your dad's voice calls out from the kitchen. @@.boy;"$name! Your mom's trying to tell me I can't slice a tomato straight. Come settle this for us!"@@ Your mom presses her lips together but steps aside, letting you head toward the kitchen. Your dad is at the counter, a tomato on the cutting board and a knife in his hand. He grins when you walk in, gesturing dramatically at the tomato slices. @@.boy;"What do you think? They're pretty straight, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Looks fine to me,"@@ you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. Your mom walks in behind you, but instead of joining the conversation, she leans against the counter, watching you with an unreadable expression. @@.girl;"Are you //sure// you're fine?"@@ she presses. @@.girl;"You look... Never mind."@@ @@.boy;"What's going on?"@@ your dad asks, looking up. @@.boy;"Is everything alright with you two?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, it's fine,"@@ you say quickly, forcing a smile. Your mom doesn't reply but her brows knit tighter. She sighs and turns back to the stove, but you can feel the weight of her lingering unease. <<else>>\ @@.boy;"$name! Your mom's trying to tell me I can't slice a tomato straight,"@@ you hear your dad's voice say from the kitchen. @@.boy;"Come settle this for us!"@@ You make your way over to the kitchen and see your dad with a cutting board and knife. He grins when he sees you, gesturing at the slices. @@.boy;"What do you think? They're pretty straight, huh?"@@ @@.player;"They look fine to me,"@@ you reply. @@.boy;"Great, let's get ready to eat then,"@@ you dad says with a wide grin on his face. <</if>>\ <<button "Get to eating dinner" "Day 10 - 15">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-kitchen.png"> The dinner table has already been set, the clatter of plates and silverware filling the air as everyone settles in. Your dad is already serving himself a very generous portion of the roasted chicken, while your mom fusses over the mashed potatoes. The warm, savory smell of the meal mingles with the quiet hum of casual conversation. Lily is glued to her phone, idly scrolling through some app with one hand while spearing a bread roll with her fork in the other. She hasn't even glanced in your direction yet, too absorbed in the latest social media trend or middle school drama. <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ Your mom, on the other hand, is far more attentive. She's sitting across from you, her eyes flickering to your face every few seconds, though she's careful not to linger too long. <</if>>\ @@.boy;"So, $name, how's school?"@@ your dad asks as he slathers butter onto a roll. @@.boy;"Your mom said today was the first day of clubs. That's new, right?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, they're every Wednesday,"@@ you reply, eating some mashed potatoes. @@.player;"It's mandatory for every student to be in a club."@@ @@.boy;"That's good,"@@ your dad nods approvingly. @@.boy;"Clubs are a great way to meet people and get involved. What did you decide to do? Sports? Art? Something else?"@@ <<if $club is 0>>\ @@.player;"I joined the Academic Club,"@@ you respond. @@.boy;"Academic, huh?"@@ your dad says, a smile growing on his face. @@.boy;"Great choice, it'll look great when you're applying to college."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, we played some trivia today,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Later though, we might even join academic competitions and stuff."@@ @@.boy;"That's great, good call,"@@ your dad says, a proud expression on his face. <<elseif $club is 1>>\ @@.player;"I decided to join the Occult Club,"@@ you respond. @@.boy;"The Occult Club?"@@ your dad says, furrowing his eyebrows. @@.boy;"What exactly do you do there?"@@ @@.player;"We just focus on researching and analyzing trends like this,"@@ you say, covering what the Occult Club is //really// about. @@.player;"It's actually very interesting, I swear."@@ @@.boy;"Hmm, alright,"@@ your dad says, clearly still uncertain about your choice. <<elseif $club is 2>>\ @@.player;"I decided to join the Fashion Club,"@@ you respond. @@.boy;"The Fashion Club?"@@ your dad says, taking a second to process what you just said. @@.boy;"Is it for trying on clothes?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, we like, sketch dreams and craft masterpieces,"@@ you say, trying to make the Fashion Club sound as good as possible. @@.player;"We work really hard, it's not just putting on clothes and stuff."@@ @@.boy;"I guess I can see how that would be a good choice,"@@ your dad nods his head. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I decided to join the Yearbook Club,"@@ you respond. @@.boy;"Oh, that's interesting,"@@ your dad says, rubbing his stubbled chin as he thinks. @@.boy;"I'm assuming you work on making the school yearbook?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, we voted on the theme for the yearbook today,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I thought it would be nice to contribute to the yearbook since it's my senior year."@@ @@.boy;"That's a good call,"@@ your dad says, a proud expression on his face. <</if>>\ You nod along, taking a bite of chicken. The conversation shifts as your dad begins talking about his day at work, filling the room with anecdotes you've heard a million times. Your mom chimes in occasionally, \ \ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ but her attention keeps drifting back to you. \ <<else>>\ a smile on her face as she engages with your dad. \ <</if>>\ \ Lily stays quiet, still scrolling on her phone, until she suddenly looks up. <<if $d7tellLily is true and $feminineLooks > 39>>\ @@.lily;"Why are you looking at $name like that, Mom?"@@ Lily asks. She quickly glances at you and winks subtly, reminding you that she knows about the $referto. @@.girl;"You don't notice... something different about your brother, Lily?"@@ your mom asks. Lily looks at you and dramatically inspects your face. @@.lily;"Looks the same as always to me. Same old ugly $name."@@ @@.girl;"Do not call your brother ugly, Lily,"@@ your mom says, sighing. @@.lily;"I'm just being honest!"@@ she says, starting a back-and-forth with Mom. She gives you a subtle look and smiles as she takes the attention off you. <<else>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ @@.lily;"So, are you doing something different lately, $name?"@@ Lily says casually, her voice low enough so that only you can hear. @@.lily;"New skincare routine or something?"@@ Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression neutral, stabbing a piece of chicken with your fork. @@.player;"Nope, just same old me."@@ @@.lily;"Really?"@@ Lily asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.lily;"Because you're looking polished. Pretty smooth, to be honest."@@ Your dad, too busy laughing at his own unfunny joke, doesn't catch the exchange, and neither does your mom. But Lily's eyes remain locked on yours, her expression unreadable but intrigued. @@.player;"I don't know what you're talking about,"@@ you mutter. @@.lily;"Yeah, sure, that's why Mom's been looking at you so weird this whole time,"@@ Lily jabs. She pops a bread roll into her mouth, shrugging as if it's no big deal. @@.lily;"But whatever you say, I guess."@@ <<else>>\ @@.lily;"Can I get some of the mashed potatoes?"@@ she asks, putting down her phone for just a second. @@.player;"Of course you only put down the phone when you need food,"@@ you joke, letting out a loud sigh in mock disappointment. @@.lily;"Look, the food's really good today,"@@ Lily replies. @@.lily;"Can't blame me for eating good. Also, some drama is going on that I can't miss."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ The conversation around the table slows as everyone finishes eating. Your dad leans back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. @@.boy;"Now //that// was a meal,"@@ he says, reaching for some water. @@.boy;"Props to the lovely chef."@@ @@.girl;"Glad you liked it,"@@ your mom says with a smile. @@.girl;"$name, can you grab the dishes and bring them to the sink?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, sure,"@@ you reply, standing up and starting to clear the table. As you bring the plates to the sink, your mom starts rinsing them off. \ \ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ She glances at you with that same thoughtful expression she's had all evening. @@.girl;"You were quiet tonight,"@@ she says softly, keeping her tone casual but curious. @@.player;"Just tired, you know?"@@ She nods, but there's hesitation in her expression, like she wants to say more. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"Don't stay up too late,"@@ she warns. @@.girl;"You've got school tomorrow, you have to be well rested."@@ @@.player;"Got it, I'll sleep early,"@@ you say. @@.girl;"You're off the hook for today, then,"@@ your mom laughs gently, wiping her hands on a towel. @@.girl;"Go relax a bit before bed."@@ <<button "Go to your room" "Day 10 - 16">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> The faint glow of the moon filters through the blinds as you sit at your desk, the familiar hum of your desktop filling the room. The hours since dinner passed quickly, a mix of winding down and tying up loose ends from your busy day. After dinner, you spent some time scrolling through your phone, catching up on group chats and mindlessly watching a few shorts. Samantha had sent a sarcastic meme about coffee and Luke posted a picture of the field during his practice. You also tackled your homework. There was always more schoolwork to do, and you couldn't help but feel like Sisyphus. Always working but never finishing. \ \ <<if $study > 79>>\ You worked hard to complete your homework the best you could, checking your notes and your textbook. <<else>>\ You scribbled some random stuff that sounded profound, and while it wasn't your best work, it was enough that you didn't feel guilty. <</if>>\ The rest of the evening was spent half-watching a show on your computer while you flipped through a few pages of //Romeo and Juliet//. Mr. Bennet's assignment to read the first two acts lingered in the back of your mind, so you did your best to read through it. Now, with the clock ticking closer to bedtime, you're winding down. The show is paused, the book is back on your desk, and your phone charges quietly. Your room feels serene after a busy day, the kind of stillness that lets you finally breathe. You stretch and make your way to your bed, the day's energy slowly ebbing away. Although today had been busy, it was nice. <<button "Good Night" "Day 11 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> You try to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible. Mr. Reeds continues his lecture, pacing in front of the room. @@.boy;"Now, what was I talking about before our late arrival?"@@ he asks, giving you a pointed glance. @@.boy;"Ah, yes. Franz Kafka's //The Metamorphosis//. The opening is one of the most famous in literature, and for good reason. Does anyone remember how it starts?"@@ He pauses, scanning the room briefly. Noticing how silent the room is, he continues. @@.boy;"Gregor Samsa wakes up one morning to find he's been transformed into a monstrous insect. But let's not focus too much on what kind of creature he's become. Kafka avoids giving us a clear image, and that's very intentional. The transformation isn't just physical—it's symbolic. The question we need to ask is: what does Gregor's condition represent? What is Kafka trying to tell us about alienation, identity, or even the human condition?"@@ He begins pacing slowly in front of the whiteboard, gesturing with the book in his hand. @@.boy;"In these opening pages, we see Gregor's first reaction to his transformation. What's interesting, and what I'm sure you all noticed, is how... mundane his response is. He's not screaming or panicking. Instead, he's worried about being late for work. Why do you think that is?"@@ The entire class remains silent again. Mr. Reeds looks a little disappointed, but he seems used to it. You start to drift off, wondering if you should continue to pay attention to what Mr. Reeds is saying. <div class="note">\ <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ You should totally focus on the lecture to see how $name's transformations relate to a classic piece of literature about transformation. But if you just want to move on without reading an analysis, feel free to drift off. </div>\ <<button "Focus on the lecture" "Day 10 - 3">>\<<set $d10focus to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_focus" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Drift off" "Day 10 - 3">>\<<set $d10focus to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_focus" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> <<if $d10focus is true>>\ <<set $study to Math.clamp($study + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.boy;"Gregor's priorities are fascinating, aren't they?"@@ Mr. Reeds says. @@.boy;"Here he is, a creature unlike anything else in the world, but his first thought is how it'll affect his job. It's absurd, but it also says something about the pressure he's under. Gregor's value, to himself and his family, is entirely tied to his ability to work. Think about that: he's reduced to a role, not a person. How does that relate to the theme of dehumanization?"@@ He pauses at the whiteboard and picks up a marker, jotting down keywords as he speaks. <ul>\ <li>Alienation</li> <li>Dehumanization</li> <li>Absurdity</li> <li>Identity</li> </ul>\ @@.boy;"Kafka isn't interested in a neat, tidy narrative. He really wants us to //feel// Gregor's disorientation and fear, his isolation. Everything about the writing is designed to make us uncomfortable. To make us think about how we define ourselves, and how others define us."@@ You jot down as much as you can, your thoughts still scattered from your rushed morning. @@.boy;"Now, $name,"@@ Mr. Reeds calls on you. You perk up, a little worried. \ \ <<if $d3analysis is 0>>\ @@.boy;"Care to share your thoughts on Gregor's transformation? Why do you think Kafka chose such an unusual physical change to begin the story?"@@ You quickly open the homework on your laptop. You read over what you wrote and freeze for a moment. The words you'd written for the homework assignment flicker in your mind, along with thoughts of your own transformation. You feel the weight of the question, and it feels like more than just a classroom discussion. Clearing your throat, you speak. @@.player;"I think Kafka uses Gregor's physical transformation to show how much of his identity is tied to his role in society. Gregor doesn't really stop to think about what happened to him or even how he feels about it. If anything, he panics over being late to work, like his worth is only measured by what he can do for his family or his boss. He's not really seen as a person, just a worker or provider."@@ Mr. Reeds nods, clearly approving of your answer. @@.boy;"Interesting observation, $name. Gregor's immediate concern with his obligation rather than his new form speaks volumes about his sense of self-worth. Why do you think Franz Kafka chose to start the story this way?"@@ You can't help but hesitate for a moment, your mind pulling at the threads of Gregor's story and your own. @@.player;"I think Kafka's trying to show how fragile identity can be when it's tied to external things—jobs, responsibilities, even how others see you,"@@ you say cautiously. @@.player;"Gregor is still the same person inside but once his body changes, everything about how he sees himself and how he's treated starts to unravel."@@ As you speak, you feel an odd twist in your stomach. The parallels to your own life are impossible to ignore. Like Gregor, you've felt the same inside, but you've also felt the weight of how others might perceive the changes in you. It's unsettling and strange, as you're aware of how you're changing but unable to stop it. @@.boy;"That's an excellent point, thank you $name,"@@ Mr. Reeds says. @@.boy;"Gregor's identity becomes unstable because it's so dependent on the expectations and perceptions of others. This makes his physical transformation not just a literal event, but a deeply symbolic one. Does anyone want to add to $name's analysis?"@@ The discussion continues as Mr. Reeds is forced to call on another victim. Your mind lingers on what you just said though. It's not just Gregor's transformation you're analyzing anymore—it's your own. <<elseif $d3analysis is 1>>\ @@.boy;"What are your thoughts on the theme of alienation in the first ten pages of //The Metamorphosis//? It's a concept that seems central to Gregor's experience so far."@@ You sit up straighter, opening the homework on your laptop. The words you'd written swim in your mind, along with the uncomfortable parallels to your own situation. After a moment of gathering your thoughts, you begin. @@.player;"I think Gregor's transformation creates a deep sense of alienation for him,"@@ you say. @@.player;"The moment he wakes up as an insect, he's cut off from everything that connected him to his normal life. He can't work or explain himself, he's basically trapped. The people around him don't see //him// anymore—just the thing he's become."@@ Mr Reeds nods thoughtfully. @@.boy;"An insightful take, $name. Gregor's inability to communicate with his family definitely heightens his isolation. But why do you think Kafka makes such a point of showing that disconnect so early in the story?"@@ You glance at your laptop, your own words staring back at you like a mirror. You take a deep breath before speaking. @@.player;"I think Kafka's showing how easily someone can become invisible when they don't meet the expectations of the people around them. Gregor's family relied on him to provide, but once he can't fulfill that role anymore, they don't know how to treat him. It's not just his body that's changed—his place in their lives has too. I believe that's why he feels so isolated."@@ Mr. Reeds' expression brightens with approval. @@.boy;"Exactly. Kafka often explored the idea of people being alienated from those closest to them. Gregor's transformation becomes a physical representation of that emotional and social distance. Do you think Gregor felt this way even before his transformation?"@@ @@.player;"Probably,"@@ you admit, your voice quieter. The question strikes a little too close to home. @@.player;"I think the transformation just makes it more obvious. It forces everyone to see the distance that was already there."@@ Your own transformation has been creating a quiet distance between you and your family. It's been difficult to keep it hidden. Difficult to avoid the questions they throw at you. The longer you stay silent though, the more alone you feel. Like Gregor, you're starting to wonder if anyone would even try to understand, or if they'd just see what's on the surface and treat you differently. @@.boy;"Thank you for your contribution, $name,"@@ Mr. Reeds says. @@.boy;"Does anyone want to add to Mr. Yoon's analysis?"@@ The discussion moves on as Mr. Reeds is forced to call on another victim. The knot in your chest remains, though, tied by the thoughts of the secret you're carrying and the alienation that grows with it. <<elseif $d3analysis is 2>>\ @@.boy;"Let's hear your thoughts. How do you see family expectations shaping Gregor's response to his transformation?"@@ You feel a flutter of nerves as all eyes turn your way. You draw a deep breath and focus on the homework on the computer in front of you. The words you wrote about Gregor resonate more deeply than you'd like to admit, but you push through. @@.player;"I think Gregor's transformation puts a spotlight on how much pressure he's under to meet his family's expectations,"@@ you begin. @@.player;"What stood out to me was how his first reaction when turned into an insect was guilt. He's panicking because he's worried he won't be able to go to work and provide for his family. It's like... his sense of self-worth is completely tied to what he can do for them, not who he is."@@ Mr. Reeds nods, his expression thoughtful. @@.boy;"An excellent observation, $name. Gregor's immediate concern for his family's financial situation does suggest how much of his identity has been consumed by that responsibility. Why do you think Kafka chose to make the family dynamic such a central part of the story?"@@ You glance at what you wrote again, your thoughts swimming. @@.player;"I think it's to show how unhealthy that kind of relationship can be,"@@ you say, your voice gaining confidence. @@.player;"Gregor's family doesn't seem to care about him as a person—they care about what he can do for them. The moment he can't work, he stops being their son and becomes a burden. I think Kafka's trying to say that basing your worth on what you can do for others is dangerous."@@ Mr. Reeds leans against his desk, crossing his arm. @@.boy;"That's a powerful interpretation. So would you say Gregor is complicit in this dynamic? Do you think he willingly sacrificed his individuality for his family's expectations?"@@ @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you admit, the question hitting closer to home than you'd honestly like it to. @@.player;"I think he feels he doesn't have a choice. His family relies on him so much, and he doesn't want to let them down. But I really don't think it's fair to put all that on him. They should support him too, isn't that what family is for?"@@ Gregor's panic about failing his family strikes a chord, echoing your own fears. You've been changing, and though you've tried to downplay it, you can't shake the anxiety that people around you—your family, your friends—might start seeing you differently. Would they still care about you if you couldn't meet their expectations anymore? Your chest tightens at the thought. You'd written about Gregor's family only valuing him for what he could do for them, and you can't help but wonder: are you afraid of the same thing? @@.boy;"Thank you for your valuable insight, $name,"@@ Mr. Reeds says. @@.boy;"Would anyone else like to add to what Mr. Yoon said?"@@ The discussion continues around you, but your mind lingers on those thoughts. It's hard not to see pieces of Gregor's struggle in your own life. <<else>>\ @@.boy;"Why don't you share your thoughts? How does Gregor's transformation affect his ability to communicate, and what do you think Kafka might be saying through that?"@@ Your heart skips a beat, but you sit up straighter and glance at your homework on your laptop. The words you'd written only a week ago feel heavier now, tied too closely to your own struggles. You take a deep breath and begin. @@.player;"I think the biggest impact of Gregor's transformation is how it cuts him off from the people around him,"@@ you say, choosing your words carefully. @@.player;"He can hear his family right outside his door, and they're talking to him, but he can't say anything. His voice is different, and they don't understand him. That breakdown in communication makes him feel even more isolated. His family is right there, but they might as well be a light year away."@@ Mr. Reeds nods, his expression thoughtful. @@.boy;"An insightful observation. So would you say that the inability to communicate is what makes his transformation truly terrifying?"@@ @@.player;"I think so, yes,"@@ you reply, your voice a little steadier. @@.player;"Turning into an insect is scary enough, but the real horror comes in not being able to explain yourself or ask for help. Gregor can't even tell his family about what's happening to him or how he feels. They're supposed to care about him, but because he can't communicate, they start seeing him as more of a monster than a person."@@ @@.boy;"That's an astute interpretation,"@@ Mr. Reeds says, his tone encouraging. @@.boy;"Now what do you think Kafka is trying to say about the importance of communication in relationships?"@@ @@.player;"I think he's showing how fragile communication can be,"@@ you say after hesitating for a moment. @@.player;"It's a warning, I suppose, about how it is to lose people if you don't make the effort to really listen to them."@@ @@.boy;"That's an excellent point, $name,"@@ Mr. Reeds smiles faintly, satisfied with your answer. @@.boy;"What do the rest of you think? Is Gregor solely to blame for the communication breakdown, or do his family and society share some responsibility?"@@ As the discussion shifts to the broader class, you lean back in your chair, your mind lingering on your own thoughts. Gregor's isolation feels familiar. Too familiar. You've been burying a lot about the transformation deep inside, keeping it a secret. It's starting to feel like you're losing the ability to connect with the people who matter most to you. You swallow hard, trying to shake the thoughts away. They stick to you like a shadow though. The fear of being misunderstood, of losing the people you care about because they can't hear you, sits heavy in your chest. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $study to Math.clamp($study - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You can't help but drift off, bored by whatever Mr. Reeds is yapping about. You start trying to list as many North American fruits as you can. Oranges, apples, grapes, cranberries— @@.boy;"$name,"@@ Mr. Reeds voice interrupts your thoughts. @@.boy;"Why don't you share your thoughts on the first ten pages? How does Gregor's transformation serve as a metaphor?"@@ Your stomach drops. You hadn't been paying attention at all. You sit up straighter, trying to look composed, but you have no idea what to say. @@.player;"Well,"@@ you begin, stalling as you glance down at your empty notebook. @@.player;"I think Gregor's transformation into an, uh, insect is actually... a statement about the importance of... boundaries."@@ @@.boy;"Boundaries, huh?"@@ Mr. Reeds echoes, raising his eyebrows. @@.player;"Precisely,"@@ you say, gaining confidence for no reason. @@.player;"You see, Gregor is suddenly stuck inside his room, right? That's Kafka showing how society boxes us in. Like, if you think about it, we're ''all'' Gregor. We're all trapped by the walls of... expectation. And bugs! We can't forget about bugs. Bugs love walls, don't they? They climb on them, eat them, you know, they love walls. So Gregor becoming a bug is Kafka telling us to not let society trap us in its metaphorical walls."@@ The class bursts into muffled laughs, and you hear someone whisper, @@.girl;"What is he even talking about?"@@ Mr. Reeds on the other hand, nods very seriously, although his lips twitch. @@.boy;"Interesting interpretation, $name. And what do you think Kafka is suggesting we do about these metaphorical walls?"@@ @@.player;"Oh, that's real easy,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Kafka is saying we should break them down! Like, we should get some metaphorical bug spray, to, uhhh... deal with the walls before the bugs take over. Because bugs represent all the societal expectations crawling all over us."@@ The giggles are louder now, and even Mr. Reeds looks like he's trying not to laugh. @@.boy;"Very creative. I admire your enthusiasm. Let's see what the class thinks about that. Does anyone else care to weigh in on these metaphorical walls?"@@ Your cheeks burn but you can't help but smile a little. Kafka probably would've appreciated the absurdity of your interpretation. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue to your first club meeting" "Day 10 - 4">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-hallway.png"> The school hallway buzzes with the usual passing period chaos. Lockers slam, voices overlap, and there's an occasional reprimand from a tired teacher. You stand in the middle of it all, clutching your backpack strap a little tighter than usual. Your first club meeting is today, and it feels like a fresh layer of nerves is settling in your stomach. Clubs were supposed to be fun, right? A chance to try something new or dive into something familiar. Now though, you're second-guessing ''everything''. You glance at the clock above the hallway exit. There's still a little time before the meeting starts, just enough for you to take a few deep breaths and remind yourself that this was your decision. This is it. Your club is waiting, and whether it's an easy fit or a rocky start, it's another step forward. With one last glance down the hallway, you adjust your bag on your shoulder and start walking, weaving through the crowd as you make your way to the meeting. <<if $club is 0>>\ <<button "Head to the Academic Club" "Day 10 - Academic">><</button>> <<elseif $club is 1>>\ <<button "Head to the Occult Club" "Day 10 - Occult">><</button>> <<elseif $club is 2>>\ <<button "Head to the Fashion Club" "Day 10 - Fashion">><</button>> <<elseif $club is 3>>\ <<button "Head to the Yearbook Club" "Day 10 - Yearbook">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> The cafeteria buzzes with even more energy than usual. After getting your food, you head to your usual table. Samantha is leaning back in her chair, picking at a salad with a look of disdain, while Luke is demolishing a plate of chicken nuggets. @@.samantha;"How was your first club day?"@@ Samantha asks as she spots you. @@.samantha;"Did you solve world hunger?"@@ @@.luke;"I'm sure he did well,"@@ Luke says, grinning through a mouthful of food. @@.player;"It was interesting,"@@ you say as you slide into your seat. @@.samantha;"Interesting?"@@ Samantha asks, raising her eyebrows. @@.samantha;"That's all you have to say? Come on, that's so boring!"@@ @@.luke;"Well, $name chose a club that actually does something,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"You chose the Film Club so you could just watch movies, didn't you?"@@ @@.samantha;"Puke, you're just jealous of me,"@@ Samantha sighs dramatically and rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"I get to sit in an air-conditioned room watching movies while you're out there running."@@ @@.luke;"The Sports Club is great,"@@ Luke replies. @@.samantha;"Anyway, we're talking about $name here. So, how'd you enjoy your first day of clubs?"@@ <<button "Give an optimistic response" "Day 10 - 6">>\<<set $d10cluboptimistic to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Give a pessimistic response" "Day 10 - 6">>\<<set $d10cluboptimistic to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $ver < 0.15>>\ <<set $lukeRomance = 0>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance = 0>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance = 0>>\ <<set $vincentRomance = 0>>\ <<set $auroraRomance = 0>>\ <<set $jordanRomance = 0>>\ <<if $d5luke is 1>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<elseif $d5samantha is 0 or $d5samantha is 1 or $d5samantha is 2>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $thighsProg = 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $d10cluboptimistic is true>>\ You shrug, although there's a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. @@.player;"It was actually better than I expected it to be,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I enjoyed my time and met some cool people."@@ @@.samantha;"Better than expected?"@@ Samantha asks, narrowing her eyes playfully. @@.samantha;"Are you sure you're talking about a school club here?"@@ @@.luke;"Clubs are where it's at. I'm glad you found something you like,"@@ Luke says with a wide grin on his face. @@.samantha;"Just don't try and recruit me,"@@ Samantha shivers. @@.samantha;"I don't want to be a part of anything other than the Film Club."@@ <<else>>\ You sigh, leaning back in your chair. @@.player;"To be honest, it was a bit of a letdown,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It wasn't terrible, but I guess I expected more."@@ @@.samantha;"Wow, what a glowing review,"@@ Samantha says with a smirk on her face. @@.samantha;"I'm sure your club's leader is just as devastated by how unimpressed you were."@@ @@.luke;"I mean, I'm sure it'll get better with time,"@@ Luke reassures. @@.luke;"First days can be rough and you need to get into the rhythm of it."@@ @@.samantha;"You can always join the Film Club with me, $name,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"We're going to be watching another part of //The Emoji Movie// next week."@@ <</if>>\ You continue eating and soon the lunch period winds down. The three of you linger at your usual table as the cafeteria gradually empties. Samantha twirls her fork lazily between her fingers like a pencil, while Luke stretches from side to side. You look down at his empty tray and have to hold in a laugh. @@.samantha;"So, do you have anything planned after school?"@@ Samantha asks you, her tone casual. @@.samantha;"Got something else lined up, or are you free to hang out with us? You know, your actual friends."@@ @@.luke;"You're counting yourself as an actual friend?"@@ Luke asks, chuckling. @@.samantha;"Hey, I'm a better friend than you!"@@ Samantha exclaims. @@.luke;"Anyway, $name, I'm going to hit the field after school ends,"@@ Luke says, turning his attention back to you. @@.luke;"It wouldn't hurt to get some practice in before the first game of the season. You could come and help me with drills."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, because what $name really wants to do after school is run around in the dirt with you,"@@ Samantha laughs so hard she snorts a little. @@.samantha;"I have a way better idea. We should check out the new café downtown! I'll let you pay for your own drink, don't worry."@@ @@.luke;"How productive."@@ @@.samantha;"Better than concussions, don't you think?"@@ Luke and Samantha squabble as you think about how you should spend your time. <<button "Hang out with Samantha" "Day 10 - 7">>\<<set $d10hangout to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_hangout" "samantha" "story">><</button>> <<button "Hang out with Luke" "Day 10 - 7">>\<<set $d10hangout to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_hangout" "luke" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d10hangout is true>>\ You glance between Luke and Samantha, considering both of their options. Ultimately though, you turn to Samantha with a shrug. @@.player;"Let's check out that café,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"See, what did I say, Puke?"@@ Samantha smirks triumphantly. @@.samantha;"Enjoy your sweaty football practice, Mr. Golden Retriever."@@ @@.luke;"Ugh, you're missing out, $name,"@@ Luke groans, shaking his head. @@.luke;"Fine, go have your pumpkin spice macchiato or whatever. Just know that exercise is better than lattes."@@ @@.player;"I'll survive,"@@ you say, chuckling as you grab your tray and stand up. Samantha slings her bag over her shoulder and turns her attention to you. @@.samantha;"Good choice, I can't wait to see what pretentious drink you end up ordering."@@ @@.player;"Who says I'm ordering anything pretentious, huh?"@@ you retort. @@.samantha;"Oh you //totally// will, don't worry,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"There's a bunch of weird options. You'll get something you've never even heard of before."@@ <<else>>\ You glance between Samantha and Luke, weighing their offers. While the idea of lounging in a café with Samantha has its appeal, the field calls out to you today. With a grin, you turn to Luke. @@.player;"Alright, I'm in,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Let's get to the field after school."@@ @@.luke;"Yes!"@@ Luke's face lights up with a triumphant smile as he slaps the table. @@.luke;"I knew you'd make the right choice. You won't regret it, I swear."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh come on, $name,"@@ Samantha lets out an exaggerated groan. @@.samantha;"You'd rather hang out in the dirt instead of, I don't know, actual civilization?"@@ @@.luke;"It's called dedication, Samantha,"@@ Luke says, completely unbothered. @@.samantha;"Dedication to running up and down a field? Very inspiring."@@ @@.player;"Hey, I could use the fresh air,"@@ you cut in. @@.samantha;"Yeah, sure,"@@ Samantha laughs. @@.samantha;"I'll show you two a picture of my perfect foamed milk while you're wheezing and panting."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue with the school day" "Day 10 - 8">><</button>>

Drama class is a whirlwind of creative chaos as always. You immediately feel a tickle in your throat and start coughing as you walk in, and you need a second to catch your breath. You look around the class and find the culprit, a bunch of dust motes dancing in the sunlight. A cluttered stage stands in the center of the room, hosting a bunch of mismatched chairs, scripts, and costumes. You put down your backpack and take a seat in the \ \ <<if $shy > $confident>>\ back \ <<else>>\ front \ <</if>>\ \ of the room. @@.boy;"Welcome to Drama, my little thespians,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, a wide grin on his face as he appears from behind the curtain. Your teacher runs a hand through his messy brown hair and makes his way to the center of the stage. His long scarf—an essential part of his wardrobe—drapes dramatically over one shoulder. @@.boy;"Today is a rather important day, as we're going to start preparing for our first play of the year."@@ A wave of excitement, mixed with some nervousness, washes over you. You hear your classmates whispering, speculating on what the play will be and what role they'll play. @@.boy;"We'll be working on one of the most famous plays of all time this time around,"@@ Mr. Bennet announces after the room quiets back down. @@.boy;"It's one that all of you have either already read or will read soon. It's a tale of love, fate, and tragic misunderstandings. Without further ado, we'll be performing //Romeo and Juliet//!"@@ The reaction to Mr. Bennet's announcement is polarized, to say the least. Half of the class groans while the other half gasps in excitement. Everyone begins murmuring, and you can hear a girl say, @@.girl;"I hope I get to play Juliet!"@@ @@.boy;"Now, we won't be doing much today, let alone casting students for roles,"@@ your drama teacher interrupts. @@.boy;"But we will have to start reading the play, brainstorming characters, and warming up. The scripts are on the table—please, treat them better than the last set."@@ You stand up and make your way toward the table Mr. Bennet pointed to. You pick up the script and make your way back to your seat. You think back to when you first read Romeo and Juliet in your freshman year. Although the details are fuzzy now, you still remember the gist of the story. You can't help but think about who you would play if you could. What role might this year have in store for you? <<button "I want to play Romeo" "Day 10 - 9">>\<<set $d10playwho to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D10_acting_role" "romeo" "story">><</button>> <<button "I want to play Juliet" "Day 10 - 9">>\<<set $d10playwho to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D10_acting_role" "juliet" "story">><</button>> <<button "I want to play Mercutio" "Day 10 - 9">>\<<set $d10playwho to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D10_acting_role" "mercutio" "story">><</button>> <<button "I want to be backstage" "Day 10 - 9">>\<<set $d10playwho to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D10_acting_role" "backstage" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d10playwho is 0>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You decide if you could, you would play Romeo. There's something about him being a star-crossed lover caught in a whirlwind of passion and tragedy. The image comes to you rather easily: standing on the stage, bathed in the spotlight, delivering heartfelt monologues about love. You already know you'd pour your soul into your performance as the audience hangs on your every line. There's something alluring about playing the lead. You'd get to explore everything from the highs of love to the depths of despair. It's intimidating though. You're not sure if you could pull off his romantic charm without feeling ridiculous. The sword fights would be a challenge as well. <<elseif $d10playwho is 1>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ The thought catches you off guard, but you can't help but wonder: what if you played Juliet? You picture yourself dressed in a flowing gown, delivering Juliet's lines with grace and vulnerability. The balcony scene comes to mind, and you can't help but smile as you imagine gazing down at Romeo, filled with longing and conflict. Juliet's role in the story feels fascinating despite its challenge. She's strong yet vulnerable, caught between Romeo and her family. You'd step out of your comfort zone, but isn't that what acting's all about? The idea of exploring Juliet's complexity, courage, and tragic story pulls at you. <<elseif $d10playwho is 2>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 3, 0, 100)>>\ Mercutio's name leaps to the forefront of your mind. Romeo's charismatic, witty, and bold friend seems like the kind of role you could get into. You picture yourself swaggering across the stage, delivering Mercutio's sharp one-liners. Mercutio isn't the lead, but his presence is unforgettable. He's the kind of character that leaves a lasting impression. You'd have to lean into humor, confidence, and heartbreak all at once—a blend that feels like a perfect challenge. <<else>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You imagine working behind the scenes, helping build sets, adjusting lighting, and managing costumes. The idea of contributing to the play and its success without stepping onstage feels oddly comforting. You could easily see yourself enjoying the satisfaction of creating something tangible—like painting the backdrop or designing props. You wouldn't have to worry about memorizing lines or performing in front of an audience either, which is nice. <</if>>\ @@.boy;"Alright, my budding thespians,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, cutting through your thoughts. @@.boy;"We've just learned our destiny for the semester—//Romeo and Juliet//, the most epic tale in the history of the English Language!"@@ He pauses for effect, pacing slowly across the stage at the front of the room. @@.boy;"But what is a play without //passion//? What is acting without //connection//? What is drama without..."@@ He stops, spinning on one foot to face the group. @@.boy;"Conflict?"@@ You see a few of your peers exchange amused glances, while others sit up a little straighter, drawn into his energy. @@.boy;"To prepare you for the emotional stakes required to bring Shakespeare's words to life, we're going to start with a little warm-up. Improv! The sacred art of creating something from nothing."@@ With another clap, he marches toward the center of the room and gestures for everyone to stand. @@.boy;"On your feet! Drama is not a spectator sport."@@ Chairs screech as everyone reluctantly pushes them back and shuffles into the open space. Mr. Bennet raises a single finger, halting the movement like a conductor. @@.boy;"Now, this will not be your //average// improv,"@@ he says, pacing again. @@.boy;"Oh no, not at all! This exercise will draw inspiration directly from our dear friend William Shakespeare himself. Each pair will embody a scenario inspired by the grand themes of //Romeo and Juliet//. You'll take these emotions, these stakes, and make them your own! Remember there are no wrong answers in improv, only boring ones."@@ @@.boy;"I will assign your pairs and scenarios. You'll have three minutes to brainstorm, craft, and rehearse your masterpiece. Then the stage will be yours! The clock starts as soon as I've finished assigning pairs. No pressure!"@@ He begins pointing dramatically at students, assigning pairs with the flair of someone casting a high-stakes Broadway show. @@.boy;"Emily and Theo! You are rival family members meeting in secret to make peace. Jasmine and Kevin! You are two best friends torn apart by loyalty to your families."@@ When his gaze lands on you, a sly smile spreads across his face. @@.boy;"$name!"@@ he exclaims. @@.boy;"You shall be paired with... Jordan!"@@ You glance over at Jordan, the football star that you forgot was even in this class. He raises an eyebrow at you from across the room. Mr. Bennet doesn't miss a beat, pointing a finger at the two of you. @@.boy;"Your scenario: secret lovers meeting under the shadow of your families' bitter hatred!"@@ Jordan \ \ <<if $jordanRelo < 10>>\ sighs audibly but \ <</if>>\ \ makes his way toward you. @@.jordan;"Guess we're doing this,"@@ he mutters as he stops in front of you. @@.player;"Guess so,"@@ you reply. @@.boy;"The clock starts now!"@@ Mr. Bennet sweeps his arm dramatically toward the rest of the class. The room bursts into motion as pairs begin brainstorming their scenes, their voices filling the air with snippets of ideas. You turn to Jordan, already thinking about how to pull this off. Jordan leans against a nearby desk, crossing his arms as he looks at you. @@.jordan;"Alright, how are we doing this?"@@ he asks, his voice low and even. @@.jordan;"Lovers meeting in secret—sounds pretty straightforward."@@ @@.player;"We've got a few ways we could spin this,"@@ you say, turning back to Jordan and shrugging. @@.player;"It depends on how dramatic we want to go."@@ @@.jordan;"This whole class is dramatic, might as well lean into it,"@@ Jordan chuckles, a faint smirk on his face. <<button "Suggest that you act out the last meeting before a duel" "Day 10 - 10">>\<<set $d10dramascenario to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_drama_scenario" "duel" "story">><</button>> <<button "Suggest that you act out a secret meeting in disguise" "Day 10 - 10">>\<<set $d10dramascenario to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_drama_scenario" "secret meeting" "story">><</button>>

Luke stands in the middle of the field, his hands on his hips as he surveys the setup. Cones, tackling dummies, and even a foam noodle rest nearby. All the tools necessary for an afternoon's worth of drills. @@.luke;"Alright, here's the game plan,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"We're focusing on three things today: reaction time, agility, and tackling form. Don't go easy on me, $name, you're the assistant coach today."@@ @@.player;"Don't worry,"@@ you reply, smirking. @@.player;"I plan to make you work for it."@@ @@.luke;"Good, let's get started then,"@@ Luke says, grabbing the football and jogging to the center of the field. @@.luke;"For this one, you're going to toss the ball randomly in different directions. I'll sprint to catch it before it hits the ground. Don't make it too predictable—keep me guessing."@@ You take your spot a few yards away and begin tossing the ball, sometimes lobbing it high up into the air and other times throwing it low. Luke sprints, drives, and pivots, his cleats tearing into the turf as he moves. @@.luke;"Is that all you got, $name?"@@ Luke shouts after catching a difficult throw. @@.player;"Try this!"@@ you reply, sending the next ball wide to his left. The drill pushes Luke to his limits, but as he warms up, you notice his reaction time becomes even quicker. Even his movements seem to get more precise as he adjusts to your unpredictable throws. After you finish up with the reaction time drill, Luke waves you over to the cones. @@.luke;"Alright, now we're working on agility,"@@ he says, holding up the foam noodle with a grin. @@.luke;"You're going to use this deadly weapon to try and tag me as I sprint through the cones. Your job is to block me or force me to change direction. My job is to make sure you miss."@@ You take your position as Luke crouches into a ready stance. He bursts into motion the moment you lunge, zigzagging through the cones. @@.luke;"Too slow!"@@ he calls out, narrowly dodging your swing. You adjust, trying to anticipate his next move, but his quick footwork keeps you on your toes. Eventually, you manage to tag your friend on the shoulder. @@.luke;"Alright, alright, that was decent,"@@ Luke says, shaking his head and laughing. @@.luke;"But you're going to have to be faster than that if you want to keep up with someone like me."@@ After some more practice with the foam noodle, Luke picks up the padded tackling dummy, setting it in place a few yards back from the line of scrimmage. He kneels to adjust its position, shifting it around and making sure it's secure, before stepping back. @@.luke;"This is the fun stuff,"@@ Luke says, cracking his knuckles with a loud pop. @@.luke;"Tackling is all about form. Lowering the shoulder, keeping the legs driving, and following through. You can't just flail around and bump into someone. Watch and learn."@@ He lines up a few yards away, takes a deep breath, then bursts into motion. His feet pound against the grass as he closes the distance to the dummy. At the last second, he drops his shoulder, driving into the pad with so much force that it's knocked backward. @@.luke;"Did you see that?"@@ Luke asks, adjusting the dummy. @@.luke;"It's all about control. You're moving it, not just hitting it. Give it a try."@@ You step up and mimic your friend's stance. Your first attempt is clumsy, to say the least, but Luke steps in and gives you tips. With his guidance, you improve, eventually landing a solid hit that sends the dummy to the floor. Luke claps you on the back, congratulating you. By the time you finish the final drill, you're both winded, but there's a sense of accomplishment hanging in the air. The both of you made for a solid team, and you can't help but feel closer to him after today. You think about how you should respond to the training session. <<button "Playfully tease Luke" "Day 10 - Luke 2">>\<<set $d10lukechoice to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D10_luke_choice" "Playfully tease Luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Challenge Luke for next time" "Day 10 - Luke 2">>\<<set $d10lukechoice to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D10_luke_choice" "Challenge Luke for next time" "story">><</button>> <<button "Thank him for including you" "Day 10 - Luke 2">>\<<set $d10lukechoice to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D10_luke_choice" "Thank him for including you" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d10lukechoice is 0>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 1, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Not bad, wide receiver,"@@ you say, your tone light and teasing as you lean casually on the foam noodle. @@.player;"But let's be real here—I did most of the work. You'd have been lost without me keeping you on track."@@ @@.luke;"Oh, is that right?"@@ Luke asks, shaking his head as he turns to face you. He lets out a snort, his grin widening. @@.luke;"From where I'm standing, you were the one out here sweating while trying to stop me with a foam noodle."@@ @@.player;"I was breaking a sweat because I was actually trying,"@@ you chuckle. @@.player;"You're just lucky I didn't decide to start trying."@@ @@.luke;"Sure, coach,"@@ Luke laughs, his voice full with skepticism. @@.luke;"Keep telling yourself that if it helps. Maybe next time I'll let you run the whole practice—you know, so I can sit back and critique your form."@@ @@.player;"Deal, we're on,"@@ you reply, grinning. @@.player;"Don't cry when I show you up though."@@ @@.luke;"All bark and no bite, $name,"@@ Luke says, the laughter still lingering in his eyes. <<elseif $d10lukechoice is 1>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 1, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Alright, wide receiver,"@@ you say, planting your hands on your hips. @@.player;"Next time, let's turn this into an actual competition. Do you think you can keep up if I'm the one running the drills?"@@ @@.luke;"You?"@@ Luke asks, his eyebrows arching. A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. @@.luke;"Are you sure you even know the difference between a linebacker and a wide receiver?"@@ @@.player;"I'm serious!"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"If you think you're fast now, you should wait until I set the pace. I'll have you working harder than your coach does."@@ @@.luke;"Alright then, $name. If you think you can handle it, I'm up for it. But don't cry when I end up leaving you in the dust."@@ @@.player;"Come on, you and I both know I'll have you begging for water breaks before I even break a sweat."@@ @@.luke;"We'll see about that, Coach,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Next time, bring your A-game. You're going to need it."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You wipe the sweat from your brow as Luke grabs the football and tosses it into the air absentmindedly. You watch him for just a moment, his focus still sharp even after the intense session. Instead of feeling drained though, you feel oddly accomplished. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, breaking the quiet. Luke turns to you, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"Thanks for letting me tag along. I wasn't sure what to expect, to be honest, but this was actually pretty fun. I'm glad you thought to include me."@@ @@.luke;"Huh, what do you mean?"@@ Luke asks. He blinks, caught off guard by the sincerity in your tone. @@.luke;"You kept me sharp, kept the drills interesting. I invited you and you helped me more than I helped you. Plus, it's easier when it's someone who actually gives a shit, you know?"@@ @@.player;"Well, I'm glad to be that someone,"@@ you say, chuckling and taking a step toward him. @@.luke;"Alright, $name,"@@ Luke says, a soft grin growing on his face. His eyes briefly meet yours before he tosses the ball to you. @@.luke;"I don't want to get too sentimental but thanks. It's nice to have you out here."@@ @@.player;"Aww, I knew you had a soft spot for me,"@@ you tease, catching the ball. @@.luke;"Yeah, yeah,"@@ Luke laughs, shaking his head as he slings his bag over his shoulder. @@.luke;"Don't let it get to your head."@@ <</if>>\ The field fades behind you as you and Luke approach the nearby bench and vending machine. It's under the shade of a few tall trees, and the breeze carries a slight chill through the air. Luke tosses his bag onto the bench with a casual motion and cracks his neck. @@.luke;"Man, I needed that,"@@ he says, his shirt drenched in sweat. @@.luke;"Nothing beats a good workout."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, it's exhausting but the serotonin boost is nice,"@@ you say, smirking as you wipe your face. @@.luke;"You've earned your break, Coach,"@@ Luke replies, laughing. He stops in front of the vending machine and looks around, reading all the labels. @@.luke;"Let's see what they've got here."@@ He leans down, examining the brightly lit row of drinks inside. @@.luke;"So you got your classic sports drinks,"@@ he says, gesturing toward some neon-colored bottles. @@.luke;"They've got a ton of electrolytes and taste pretty good. Cool blue is the best flavor, by the way—don't let anyone tell you otherwise."@@ He moves his hand to the next row, pointing to the fizzy cans stacked neatly in their slots. @@.luke;"Then there's some soda if you're feeling rebellious. Probably not what Coach would want me to drink, but hey, it's sugar and carbonation."@@ @@.luke;"And for the practical types, there's flavored water,"@@ Luke says, nodding toward a row of sleek bottles with trendy labels. @@.luke;"It's classy, like hydration without the sugar rush."@@ You step forward, looking over the selection. The vending machine hums softly as you wonder what you should get. <<button "Get a sports drink" "Day 10 - Luke 3">>\<<set $d10lukedrink to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D10_luke_drink" "sports drink" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get a soda" "Day 10 - Luke 3">>\<<set $d10lukedrink to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D10_luke_drink" "soda" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get a flavored water bottle" "Day 10 - Luke 3">>\<<set $d10lukedrink to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D10_luke_drink" "flavored water" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d10lukedrink is 0>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'll go with that one,"@@ you say, pointing to the electric-blue sports drink. @@.player;"I've got to replenish those electrolytes, don't you think?"@@ @@.luke;"Good choice,"@@ Luke says, nodding approvingly. He pulls a crumbled bill from his pocket and slides it into the machine, punching the button for the drink with a practiced motion. The bottles clunk loudly into the bottom tray, and Luke bends down, grabs it, and tosses it to you with a grin. @@.luke;"Here, Coach."@@ You twist the cap off and take a sip, the cool, tangy flavor hitting just right after some exercise. Luke leans back against the bench, holding up his drink in a mock toast. @@.player;"To a hard day's work?"@@ you ask, holding up your bottle as well. @@.luke;"To a hard day's work and good company,"@@ he replies. You clink your bottle lightly against his with a \ \ <<if $femininity > 29>>\ giggle. <<else>>\ chuckle. <</if>>\ The moment feels easy, the refreshing drink a perfect cap to the effort the two of you put in. There's an underlying respect and warmth in Luke's tone that makes the day's work feel worth it. <<elseif $d10lukedrink is 1>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at the fizzy row of drinks and point to a bright red can. @@.player;"Soda,"@@ you say with a grin. @@.luke;"Soda after a workout?"@@ Luke asks, shaking his head as he fishes a crumpled bill from his pocket. He punches in the code for the soda, and the cans clunk into the tray below. He grabs it, tossing it over to you with a smirk. @@.luke;"I'll enable your terrible choices just this once."@@ You crack open the can, the sharp hiss of carbonation filling the air. Taking a long sip, you let out a sigh of satisfaction. @@.player;"Ah, the taste of rebellion feels good."@@ @@.luke;"Here's to terrible decisions,"@@ Luke says, raising his drink in a mock toast. @@.player;"Hear, hear,"@@ you say, clinking your can lightly against his. The familiar rhythm of your friendship makes the moment feel effortless. <<else>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Flavored water,"@@ you say, pointing to the sleek bottle with a bright citrus label. @@.player;"I've got to stay hydrated and classy."@@ @@.luke;"Flavored water?"@@ Luke asks, raising his eyebrows. @@.luke;"What, you too good for a regular sports drink?"@@ @@.player;"Are you calling me bougie for picking a drink I like?"@@ you joke. @@.player;"I have refined taste, you don't. Simple as that."@@ @@.luke;"Unbelievable,"@@ Luke shakes his head with an exaggerated sigh. He pulls out a crumpled bill from his pocket, punches in the code, and waits for the bottle to clunk into the tray. He grabs it, holds it up in mock reverence, and passes it to you. @@.luke;"Here, Your Majesty. Your hydration awaits."@@ You twist the cap off and take a sip, letting the cool, slightly sweet water slide down your throat. It hits perfectly after the workout, having a citrus zing to it. @@.player;"Not bad,"@@ you say with a smile. The two of you enjoy a quiet moment on the bench, both drinking your bottles of flavored water. The flavored water might not have been Luke's pick, but you can tell he doesn't mind. @@.luke;"Thanks for sticking around today,"@@ Luke says, glancing at you. @@.luke;"It's nice having someone out here who doesn't just talk about practice but actually shows up."@@ @@.player;"Someone's got to keep you on your toes, don't you think?"@@ you ask, raising your bottle and meeting his gaze. @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ Luke replies, bumping his drink lightly against yours. @@.luke;"Just don't get too used to me buying your fancy water, alright?"@@ @@.player;"Deal,"@@ you chuckle. The moment feels grounded and real, the kind of exchange that reminds you why you've been friends with Luke for so long. It's the little things—like a shared laugh over flavored water—that keep it all feeling effortless. <</if>>\ The sun dips lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the football field. The faint rustling of leaves and distant sounds of the cheer squad fade into the background as you and Luke finish your drinks. The calm after the workout lingers, but as the breeze cools, Luke stretches his arms above his hands and stands up. @@.luke;"Alright, Coach,"@@ he says, tossing the drink into a nearby trash can with a perfect arc. @@.luke;"Don't you think it's about time we head home now? We've earned the break."@@ @@.player;"Sure,"@@ you reply, nodding and brushing off your shorts. @@.player;"I'm pretty sure my legs will be super sore tomorrow."@@ @@.luke;"You'll be fine,"@@ Luke says, chuckling. @@.luke;"Come on, let's take the shortcut through the woods. It's faster and we'll beat the traffic."@@ @@.player;"The woods?"@@ you ask, glancing at the tree line. The dark foliage looks darker now in the fading light. @@.player;"Are you sure?"@@ @@.luke;"Relax, I've been there a million times,"@@ Luke reassures, nudging your shoulder lightly. @@.luke;"What, are you scared?"@@ <<button "Go through the woods" "Day 10 - Luke 4">>\<<set $d10lukewoods to true>>\<<trackChoice "D10_luke_woods" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Take the usual route home" "Day 10 - Luke 4">>\<<set $d10lukewoods to false>>\<<trackChoice "D10_luke_woods" false "story">><</button>>

<<if $d10lukewoods is true>>\ @@.player;"No, of course not,"@@ you reply to Luke. @@.player;"Let's go through your shortcut."@@ @@.luke;"Come on then, $name,"@@ Luke starts walking toward the path, looking over his shoulder with a grin. @@.luke;"Don't let me outpace you."@@ You roll your eyes, but follow, and the two of you step off the beaten path and into the woods. The crunch of autumn leaves beneath your shoes and the distant chirping of crickets fill the air, the shortcut already feeling quieter and more secluded than the busy parking lot. @@.luke;"See?"@@ Luke says, gesturing around. @@.luke;"Not so bad."@@ @@.player;"It really isn't,"@@ you whisper. The air grows cooler as you and Luke walk deeper into the woods, the golden glow of the sunset filtering through the treetops. @@.luke;"I told you this was faster,"@@ Luke says, glancing back at you and flashing an easy grin. @@.luke;"We'll be home in no time."@@ @@.player;"If we run into a pack of angry squirrels, I'm not saving you,"@@ you joke. @@.player;"I'll sacrifice you and get out of here alive."@@ @@.luke;"Noted,"@@ Luke replies. @@.luke;"I'll rely on my wide receiver instincts to fend them off."@@ The deeper you go, the darker it gets, the trees growing thicker and blocking out the last rays of sunlight. The air feels heavier here, cooler and tinged with an earthy scent. @@.luke;"It's been a while since I came through here this late,"@@ Luke admits, his voice quieter now. He slows his pace, glancing around as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. @@.luke;"It's a little scarier than I remembered it being."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, no shit,"@@ you mutter, your gaze darting from tree to tree. @@.player;"Remind me again why this shortcut was a good idea?"@@ Luke opens his mouth to respond but the sound of a twig snapping in the distance makes both of you pause. @@.luke;"It's fine,"@@ he says after a moment, his tone reassuring. @@.luke;"There's nothing here but wildlife. Just stick close, and we'll be out soon."@@ The path narrows further, forcing you to take each step carefully to avoid tripping over roots and rocks. Luke's footsteps are steady ahead of you, but the woods feel different now—quieter, almost unnervingly so. The occasional distant rustle of leaves and strange sound keep your nerves on edge. <<button "Stick closely behind Luke" "Day 10 - Luke 5">>\<<set $d10lukeclose to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Keep your distance" "Day 10 - Luke 5">>\<<set $d10lukeclose to false>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, I am scared of the woods,"@@ you reply to Luke. @@.player;"I'm fine taking our usual route home."@@ @@.luke;"Fine, whatever you say, Coach,"@@ Luke says, a grin on his face showing that he doesn't actually mind. @@.luke;"We won't take any shortcuts, but if we hit traffic, I'm blaming you."@@ The two of you walk away from the edge of the woods, heading toward the paved path that winds around the school campus. The late evening light stretches across the quiet sidewalks, casting long shadows from the rows of neatly trimmed bushes and lamp posts lining the path. The air is cooler now as it approaches night, and the faint hum of traffic from the nearby road blends with students wrapping up their after-school activities. @@.player;"Hey, it's better than being lost in the woods,"@@ you quip back. @@.luke;"You're the only person taking a shortcut through the woods sound that dangerous,"@@ he chuckles, nudging you lightly with his elbow. The walk feels easy, the familiarity of the campus calming after the intensity of the field drills. Luke slows his pace slightly, tilting his head back to look at the sky. @@.luke;"Man,"@@ Luke says after a moment. @@.luke;"I don't think I actually took the time to appreciate how nice it is out here. I'm too busy running laps or dodging Coach's yelling at this time of day."@@ @@.player;"Guess you're always moving too fast to notice,"@@ you say, falling into step beside him. @@.player;"It could help if you slowed down once in a while."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, maybe,"@@ he replies, his tone lighter. @@.luke;"But you know me—I don't exactly do 'slow.'"@@ The two of you pass the empty bleachers and the main parking lot, the occasional car pulling out and heading toward the main road. The chatter of a small group of students fades as they turn in the opposite direction, leaving the path ahead quieter. @@.luke;"You ever think about stuff like this, $name?"@@ Luke asks, his voice thoughtful. @@.luke;"Like, all the little moments we don't pay attention to. How they just... slip by?"@@ You blink, surprised by the sudden shift in tone. It wasn't like Luke to suddenly bring something like this up. @@.player;"I mean, sometimes,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"But I guess that's why it's important to have people to share them with, right? Makes them stick a little more."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ Luke says, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. @@.luke;"That makes sense."@@ The rest of the walk feels quieter and more reflective, as the path takes you closer to the main road. The streetlights flicker on one by one, their warm glow guiding your way. <<button "Tell him something positive" "Day 10 - Luke 5">>\<<set $d10lukeclose to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Tell him he's overthinking things" "Day 10 - Luke 5">>\<<set $d10lukeclose to false>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d10lukewoods is true>>\ <<if $d10lukeclose is true>>\ <<if $lukeRomance > 0>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <</if>>\ You quicken your pace, falling into step right behind Luke. The fading light filtering through the trees only makes the shadows stretch longer, creating strange shapes on the ground. There's a sense of unease creeping in, but Luke's steady presence in front of you reassures you. @@.player;"Yeah, sticking close seems like a solid plan,"@@ you say, trying to sound lighthearted. @@.player;"I'm sure we'll be fine."@@ @@.luke;"Relax, $name,"@@ Luke says, chuckling softly. @@.luke;"Worst-case scenario, I'll carry you out of here. Just don't trip and fall."@@ You roll your eyes, glad to have Luke's unshakable confidence even in the encroaching darkness. The trail narrows further though as you walk, forcing the two of you to walk single file. Every now and then, you have to step around roots or duck beneath low-hanging branches. The sound of your sneakers crunching against leaves and twigs echoes in the stillness, each snap and crackle feeling a lot louder than it should. @@.luke;"You good?"@@ your friend asks, his voice quieter. He slows down slightly, waiting for you to match his pace. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply rather unconvincingly. @@.player;"Just trying not to trip."@@ @@.luke;"You'll be fine,"@@ he says, glancing back at you. His tone softens, and for a moment, there's something comforting about the way he says it. The trail twists suddenly, veering to the right. Luke pauses, looking ahead to check the path. You nearly bump into him but catch yourself, muttering some words of apology. The air feels heavier as you make your way to the edge of the woods. The trees seem to close in, their branches forming a canopy that blocks out the last of the fading sunlight. It's darker now, the faint glow of twilight barely reaching the forest floor. You stick closer to Luke, your steps almost matching his. @@.player;"It feels like we've been walking forever,"@@ you say, keeping your voice low. @@.luke;"Yeah, these woods always feel longer when it's getting dark,"@@ Luke says, his voice as calm as ever. @@.luke;"Trust me though, we're almost there.@@ The faint rustling of leaves catches your attention, and you instinctively look toward the sound. Nothing's there. It was just the wind brushing through the leaves. You shake your head, trying to push down the creeping unease as you continue walking. @@.luke;"Hey, you've been pretty quiet,"@@ Luke observes suddenly, breaking the silence. @@.luke;"Are you alright?"@@ @@.player;"I'm just focused,"@@ you reply, quickening your pace so that the two of you are walking almost shoulder to shoulder. @@.luke;"On what?"@@ Luke asks. @@.luke;"I know it can be scary, but we'll be fine."@@ @@.player;"You're right,"@@ you say, appreciative of his words. You open your mouth but quickly close it again as you see some light. The trail widens again, and ahead, you can see the faint glow of open space. Relief washes over you like a wave as the thick canopy gives way to the sight of the first streetlights marking the edge of the woods. @@.luke;"There it is!"@@ Luke says, pointing toward the clearing. His pace quickens, and you follow close behind. Your footsteps feel light now that you can see the way out. <<else>>\ As Luke leads the way, his confident strides creating a faint path through the woods, you decide to hang back, keeping a few paces between the two of you. The air is cooler here, the fading sunlight casting long shadows that stretch across the uneven trail. The sound of your footsteps crunching on leaves echoes faintly, punctuated by the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. @@.luke;"You alright back there?"@@ Luke calls over his shoulder. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm good,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"I'm just making sure you don't lose me in this place."@@ @@.luke;"Don't worry, Coach,"@@ he says, chuckling softly. @@.luke;"If we stick to the trail we'll be fine, I've got a flawless sense of direction."@@ @@.player;"Flawless, sure we'll call it that,"@@ you joke, adjusting your pace to maintain the gap between you. @@.player;"You're lucky I trust you."@@ The trail narrows slightly, forcing you to watch your footing carefully. Roots and rocks just out from the dirt, their twisted shapes catching what little light filters through the trees. The quiet feels heavier now, the distant sounds of the school and city muffled by the canopy above. @@.luke;"This part's a little tricky,"@@ Luke says, pausing briefly. He carefully steps over a particularly large root, pointing to the uneven ground. @@.luke;"Don't trip."@@ @@.player;"Got it, I am pretty coordinated so, it'll be fine,"@@ you respond, a smirk on your face. The path twists sharply as you continue walking, and for a moment, Luke disappears from view. You quicken your pace slightly, the shadows ahead growing darker as the trees seem to close in. @@.player;"Luke?"@@ you call, your voice breaking the quiet. You glance from left to right, trying to find where the hell he went. @@.luke;"Relax!"@@ you hear his voice say as he steps back into view. @@.luke;"The trail's just winding a bit, I'm not ditching you."@@ @@.player;"You scared me,"@@ you say with a nervous laugh. You fall back into your slower pace, although you do stick a little closer to Luke. The woods go quieter as the light fades, the air cooler and the scent of damp leaves stronger. You glance around occasionally, the rustling of branches keeping you on edge. Luke's steady pace and confident movements ahead are reassuring, even from a distance. @@.luke;"We're almost there!"@@ Luke says after a few minutes. @@.luke;"See that light up ahead? That's the edge of the woods."@@ You follow his gaze and spot the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the trees. Relief washes over you, and you pick up your pace slightly, closing some of the distance between you and Luke. <</if>>\ As you both step out of the woods, the air feels fresher, the faint hum of cars in the distance a welcome reminder of civilization. Luke stops at the edge of the path, glancing back toward the darkened woods with a small smirk. @@.luke;"What did I say, the shortcut is faster,"@@ Luke says, turning to you. @@.player;"Yeah, not bad, if you're alright with getting lost in the woods, that is,"@@ you say, glad to be out of the woods. @@.player;"I'll stick to sidewalks next time."@@ @@.luke;"You may say that now, but when you're busy, it's a whole different matter."@@ The two of you make your way toward the main road, the tension of earlier fading. <<else>>\ <<if $d10lukeclose is true>>\ <<if $lukeRomance > 0>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <</if>>\ You glance at Luke as you walk, the glow of the streetlights catching the edges of his face. There's an ease to the way he carries himself, his steps are confident but unhurried as if he's savoring the quiet moment. @@.player;"I'm glad we got to hang out today,"@@ you say, your tone soft but genuine. @@.player;"It's nice to actually spend time together."@@ Luke's confident stride falters for a split second. He glances over at you, @@.luke;"Yeah?"@@ he asks, his voice a little strained as if he's testing the words. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"Feels like we don't get to do this much anymore. Just hanging out without a million things going on. I missed it."@@ Luke looks ahead for a moment, his hand shifting to adjust the strap of his bag. When he speaks again, his voice is steady, but there's an undertone of something deeper. @@.luke;"Me too. It's been a while, hasn't it?"@@ @@.player;"I suppose life gets in the way sometimes,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But today reminded me why we're friends in the first place."@@ @@.luke;"You really know how to hit someone in the feels,"@@ Luke chuckles softly, his gaze dropping to the pavement. @@.luke;"For real, though, I'm glad too."@@ @@.player;"Well, don't get used to me going easy on you,"@@ you say, trying to lighten the mood. @@.player;"Next time, I'm running the drills. They won't be easy either."@@ @@.luke;"We'll see about that,"@@ Luke says, letting out a light laugh. @@.luke;"Don't get cocky."@@ The warmth between you lingers as you approach the intersection of your neighborhoods, the quiet banter wrapping around you like the steady glow of the streetlights. <<else>>\ You glance at Luke and smirk, nudging his arm lightly. @@.player;"Wow, listen to you,"@@ you begin. @@.player;"Getting all deep and philosophical. You're really overthinking this, aren't you."@@ @@.luke;"I don't overthink,"@@ Luke says, turning to face you with an exaggerated look of offense. @@.luke;"I think you're confusing me with someone else, Coach."@@ @@.player;"Sure, because you're known for casually pondering the fleeting nature of moments,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.luke;"I'm allowed to think about stuff like that every now and then,"@@ he says, following after you. @@.luke;"Doesn't mean I'm turning into some tortured poet."@@ @@.player;"Could've fooled me,"@@ you quip. @@.player;"You know, in drama class, we're going to be doing a Shakespeare play. Maybe you can join. 'To tackle or not to tackle, that is the question.'"@@ Luke groans dramatically, covering his face with one hand as he catches up to you. @@.luke;"You're the worst. I made one small comment and now I'm a philosopher."@@ @@.player;"You said it, not me,"@@ you reply, grinning. @@.luke;"Seriously though,"@@ Luke says after a moment, his voice softer but still carrying that edge of humor. @@.luke;"It's not that deep. I just... I guess it's nice to have days like this, you know? Stuff that doesn't feel so... routine."@@ @@.player;"I get it,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"And don't worry—I won't let anyone find out you have feelings."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, thanks, I guess,"@@ Luke says, shoving you slightly. @@.luke;"Wouldn't want to ruin my stellar reputation."@@ The first stars appear in the sky, the warmth of the moment making the walk feel a little shorter. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ Luke stops walking as the intersection between your neighborhoods comes into view. He looks at you, his smirk replaced by something softer and more thoughtful. @@.luke;"Alright, Coach,"@@ he says, his tone lighter now. @@.luke;"I suppose this is where we part ways. Are you sure you'll be able to survive the walk home without my expert guidance?"@@ @@.player;"I think I'll manage,"@@ you say, rolling your eyes. @@.player;"Thanks for the workout."@@ @@.luke;"Anytime,"@@ he replies, chuckling as he adjusts his bag. @@.luke;"I'll see you in the morning tomorrow."@@ @@.player;"For sure,"@@ you say. As Luke turns to head toward the street, he glances back over his shoulder, flashing you a quick grin. @@.luke;"Later, $name."@@ @@.player;"Later,"@@ you reply, watching as he walks off. His silhouette fades into the glow of the streetlights. The evening air feels a little cooler now, but a faint smile remains on your face as you head home. <<button "Go home" "Day 10 - 14">><</button>>

<<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "D10LukeHangout">>\ The sun hangs low in the sky as you make your way to the field after school, the golden light spilling across the trimmed grass. The air smells of earth, sweat, and chalk, and the distant sounds of whistles and cheers add to the atmosphere. Luke is already out there, tossing a football back and forth with one of his teammates. He spots you as you approach and jogs over, a grin appearing on his face. @@.luke;"About time you showed up,"@@ he says, lightly punching your shoulder. @@.luke;"Thought you bailed on me to get coffee with Samantha for a second."@@ <<if $sarcastic > $genuine>>\ @@.player;"Well, I had to mentally prepare myself for all the athletic greatness I'm about to witness,"@@ you say with a smirk. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I would never, we had a plan,"@@ you say, smiling. <</if>>\ @@.luke;"Anyway, let's see if you can actually throw this thing,"@@ Luke says, shoving the football into your chest. He leads you to a marked-off section of the field where some cones and tackling dummies are set up. @@.luke;"Coach said I need to work on my speed and reaction time—typical wide receiver stuff. You're here to keep me sharp since running drills alone is boring."@@ @@.player;"Sure, I can let you do all the running while I stand around,"@@ you joke, tossing the ball back. @@.luke;"Don't worry, I'll do the lion's share of the exercise today,"@@ Luke replies, catching the ball effortlessly and jogging to his setup. @@.luke;"I just need you to keep things interesting while I run some of these drills. Think of yourself as an assistant coach."@@ @@.player;"Do I get a whistle?"@@ you ask, chuckling. @@.luke;"Not yet, no,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Alright, let's get started."@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 10 - Luke 1">><</button>>

<<if $d10samanthadrink is 0>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You glance up at the menu, scanning the options until your eyes land on the most outrageous drink listed: the //Rainbow Sparkle Latte//. You read the description and see that it promises layers of colorful steamed milk, edible glitter, and a hint of vanilla. It sounds ridiculous, but you can't help but be intrigued. @@.player;"I'll take the Rainbow Sparkle Latte,"@@ you say confidently, stepping up to the counter. @@.girl;"Good choice!"@@ the barista says, grinning. @@.samantha;"Look at you, $name!"@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"You're embracing the ridiculousness. I've got to say I approve."@@ When your drink arrives, it's as, if not more, over-the-top as you imagined. Layers upon layers of pastel colors topped with a swirl of glittery foam. As you sit down with Samantha, you notice a few people glancing your way, whispering about the drink. @@.samantha;"That thing is like, made for Insta,"@@ Samantha says, pulling out her phone. @@.samantha;"Hold still—I'm going to take a pic. You're going to be famous for this drink."@@ The attention feels lighthearted and fun, and you enjoy having the spotlight, even if it is for your drink. <<elseif $d10samanthadrink is 1>>\ You scan the menu, skipping past the flashy drinks and landing on something straightforward. @@.player;"Just a vanilla latte, please,"@@ you say to the barista. @@.girl;"Classic choice,"@@ she replies, nodding as she rings up your order. @@.samantha;"Wow, bold choice, $name,"@@ Samantha jokes, nudging you as the two of you step away from the counter. @@.samantha;"Going with the most exciting drink on the menu, I can't imagine how that felt."@@ @@.player;"Look, for coffee, simple is better,"@@ you reply, justifying your choice. When your drink arrives, it's exactly what you expected—no frills, just a delicious drink. You sit down with Samantha, and she shakes her head in mock disappointment. @@.samantha;"You're missing out on the glittery madness, but I suppose that's respectable."@@ It's a quiet moment, nothing flashy, but you feel content with your choice. <<else>>\ <<set $sarcastic += 5>>\ <<set $genuine -= 5>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $social to Math.clamp($social - 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"What?"@@ you let out as you squint at the menu, reading some of the descriptions out loud. @@.player;"Unicorn Frappé? What the hell? Do they serve coffee here or just liquid art projects?"@@ Your voice carries just enough for a few people in line to hear. Samantha snorts, stifling a laugh behind her hand. @@.samantha;"Careful, $name. You might get thrown out of the store for blasphemy."@@ The barista raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything, while a couple of other customers glance your way with faint disapproval on their faces. You shrug though, completely unaffected, and step up to the counter. @@.player;"Just a regular black coffee,"@@ you say, keeping it simple. When your drink arrives, Samantha is still smirking. @@.samantha;"You really leaned into the boomer vibe there,"@@ she says, laughing. @@.samantha;"Back in my day, coffee didn't have all these frills!"@@ You chuckle, but as you sit down, you've noticed that the cafe's atmosphere has changed. A few people are still giving you side-eyes, and Samantha seems more amused than impressed. The moment passes, but you feel your joke might not quite have landed like you'd intended it to. <</if>>\ After your drinks arrive and you two get settled next to a window, you enjoy the warm afternoon sun. It streams in, painting the café in soft, warm hues of orange and yellow. Outside, the steady rhythm of passersby creates a backdrop of movement, while inside, the gentle clatter of mugs and conversation wraps the space in a cozy intimacy. Samantha takes a long, deliberate sip of her lavender honey latte, her brow furrowed in concentration as if she's judging a gourmet meal. After a moment, she places the cup down and leans back in her chair. @@.samantha;"It's good,"@@ she says with mock seriousness. @@.samantha;"Smooth and a little floral, but honestly? Not the life-changing experience I was promised. I'll give it an eight out of ten."@@ @@.player;"You're not giving it a ten?"@@ you ask, smirking. @@.samantha;"Eh, nothing's a ten,"@@ she says, waving her hand dismissively. @@.samantha;"Tens are for life-altering moments. This is just... nice."@@ @@.player;"That's fair,"@@ you reply, leaning back in your chair as your gaze drifts to the window. For some time, the conversation settles into an easy quiet, both of you taking in the scenery. Samantha breaks her silence after a minute or two, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. @@.samantha;"So,"@@ she starts, her tone casual but with a hint of genuine curiosity. @@.samantha;"What's it like hanging out somewhere that doesn't involve Luke yelling about football or someone trying to knock you over? Nice, right?"@@ @@.player;"Come on, it's not like I'm with Luke all the time,"@@ you reply, a grin on your face. @@.samantha;"Come on, you've got to admit it—this is better. You don't have to run laps or deal with sweaty guys, just good coffee and //me//. Pretty unbeatable combo, if I do say so myself."@@ Her teasing tone is familiar, but there's something softer behind it. @@.samantha;"But seriously, how have you been?"@@ she asks, her voice dropping. @@.samantha;"You've been busy lately—clubs, school, life. I feel I don't see you nearly as much as I used to, and I kinda miss having someone to make fun of."@@ The shift in her tone is subtle but unmistakable. Samantha's usual sarcasm seems to fall away for a moment, leaving her open. There's a weight to her words, a reminder that behind everything, she's still one of your closest friends. <<button "Open up about how busy you've been" "Day 10 - Samantha 2">>\<<set $d10samantharesponse to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Make a playful comment about spending time with her" "Day 10 - Samantha 2">>\<<set $d10samantharesponse to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Brush it off and keep things light" "Day 10 - Samantha 2">>\<<set $d10samantharesponse to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $d10samantharesponse is 0>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, it's been a lot lately,"@@ you admit, resting your arms on the table as you let out a soft sigh. @@.player;"Clubs, school, trying to keep up with everything—it feels like there's always something that needs to be done. Sometimes it feels like there's not enough time for anything."@@ @@.samantha;"Sounds like you're running yourself ragged, $name,"@@ Samantha tilts her head, her expression softening. @@.samantha;"You're usually not this introspective or tired."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence, Samantha,"@@ you chuckle. @@.player;"But yeah, it's been overwhelming. I'm still trying to figure out how to balance everything."@@ @@.samantha;"I get it. School, clubs, family—it's like they all want a piece of you, right?"@@ @@.player;"Pretty much, yeah,"@@ you say, grinning faintly. @@.player;"I'm glad we're hanging out, today though. I really am. It's nice to just... take a break."@@ For a moment, Samantha doesn't respond. She's watching you closely, her usual sarcasm replaced with something softer. Then, she leans back in her chair, her grin returning. @@.samantha;"Lucky for you, I'm a world-class distraction. Consider this your break from the chaos."@@ @@.player;"It's the best distraction I've had in a while,"@@ you reply. @@.samantha;"And seriously, $name, if it ever feels like too much, you know you can talk to me, don't you?"@@ she asks, pointing her spoon at you. @@.samantha;"I'll even let you rant for free."@@ @@.player;"That's generous of you,"@@ you laugh. @@.samantha;"Hey, I have my moments,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Anyway, enough with the doom spiral. Did I tell you about what Puke did when he called me yesterday?"@@ The weight of the earlier conversation starts to lift as she continues talking. The blend of Samantha's wit and her genuine care makes the moment feel lighter, even as her words about being there for you linger in your mind. <<elseif $d10samantharesponse is 1>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Well, with how busy I've been, you're lucky to be so high on my priority list,"@@ you say, leaning back in your chair and letting a small grin tug at the corners of your mouth. @@.player;"Not everyone gets the privilege of enjoying a coffee with me, you know."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, is that so?"@@ Samantha asks, her voice dripping with mock indignation. @@.samantha;"I should feel honored, huh? Mr. Young Socialite took time out of his packed schedule to grace me with his presence?"@@ @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"You really should start appreciating me more. It's not every day I bless someone with my company."@@ @@.samantha;"Wow, someone's ego got a boost today,"@@ she says, laughing. @@.samantha;"Did someone give you a pep talk about how you're special?"@@ @@.player;"Just being around you inspires me,"@@ you say with an exaggeratedly sincere tone. @@.samantha;"Okay, dial it back,"@@ Samantha rolls her eyes, but can't hide the faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. @@.samantha;"You're laying it on //way// too thick."@@ @@.player;"But it's working, no?"@@ you tease. @@.samantha;"I'll admit that it's mildly entertaining,"@@ she says, pointing her spoon at you. @@.samantha;"Emphasis on //mildly//."@@ The banter flows effortlessly, the energy between the two of you light and playful. Samantha seems to relax even more, the usual sharpness of her sarcasm softening into something warmer, more comfortable. The conversation shifts naturally to other topics, but there's a new undercurrent to the moment. You can't help but notice the way Samantha's grin lingers a little longer, or the way her tone softens slightly when she teases you. Whatever this is, it feels good. <<else>>\ @@.player;"It's not too bad,"@@ you say, keeping your tone casual as you lean back in your chair. @@.player;"Yeah, the clubs and school stuff keep me busy, but it's nice to have something going on, you know? It keeps things interesting."@@ @@.samantha;"So you're saying juggling all the shit you have to get done doesn't bother you?"@@ Samantha asks, swirling her latte thoughtfully. @@.samantha;"If it were me, I'd be stress-eating like crazy."@@ @@.player;"Nah, I got it under control,"@@ you chuckle, shaking your head. @@.player;"Besides, I know you'd call me out if I slacked on my friend duties."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, you better believe I would,"@@ she says, a grin returning to her face. @@.samantha;"I'd write a strongly worded text and everything. You'd be horrified."@@ The tension in her earlier question melts away, replaced by the usual banter that feels like second nature between you two. Samantha rolls her eyes playfully but seems satisfied with your answer, her sarcasm picking up right where it left off. <</if>>\ The last remnants of your drinks sit forgotten on the table as you and Samantha linger in the café's warm atmosphere. Samantha stretches her arms over her head, letting out a satisfied sigh. @@.samantha;"Alright, I'll admit it,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"This was a pretty solid way to spend an afternoon. Even if I'm still bitter about this coffee not being a perfect ten."@@ @@.player;"You really have high standards for coffee,"@@ you reply. @@.samantha;"For everything,"@@ she corrects. @@.samantha;"Someone's got to keep this world from falling into mediocrity."@@ You chuckle, watching as she pulls her bag from the back of her chair. The café has thinned out a bit, and the soft golden light outside hints at the day slipping into evening. @@.samantha;"So, what's the plan now?"@@ Samantha asks as the two of you stand to leave. @@.samantha;"Should we hang out a little longer?"@@ The two of you step out into the crisp air, the sounds of the bustling street filling the space around you. Samantha pauses, glancing toward the nearby shops. @@.samantha;"Okay, real talk,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"We could call it a day and head home, or we could go do something fun. You in?"@@ <<button "Walk around the shops" "Day 10 - Samantha 3">>\<<set $d10samanthaactivity to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Call it a day" "Day 10 - Samantha 3">>\<<set $d10samanthaactivity to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $d10samanthaactivity is true>>\ You glance down the street, the small row of shops lit with the warm glow of their displays. A few people stroll past, carrying bags or chatting quietly, giving the atmosphere a relaxed vibe. @@.player;"You know, why don't we check out the shops?"@@ you say, turning back to Samantha. @@.player;"A little window shopping never hurt anyone, did it?"@@ Samantha grins, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. @@.samantha;"Finally, a good idea. Let's see what overpriced nonsense we can find to make fun of."@@ The two of you start walking down the street, falling into an easy rhythm. Samantha immediately points out a clothing store with mannequins dressed in overly dramatic and mismatched outfits. @@.samantha;"Check this out, $name!"@@ she says, gesturing to a mannequin in a gown paired with chunky sneakers. @@.samantha;"A gown with sneakers? It's like they dressed for a ball and then remembered they had to catch the bus."@@ @@.player;"Hey, it's a bold choice,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"Maybe they're onto something that we just don't understand yet."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, onto being the weirdest person in the room,"@@ Samantha mutters. You keep walking, pausing to peer into a bookshop window where an elaborate display of bestsellers is stacked. Samantha reads the blurb on one of the covers, her voice dripping with sarcasm. @@.samantha;"Look at this. 'In a world not unlike our own, a young man embarks on a journey of self-discovery, facing unexpected challenges and ultimately learning valuable life lessons about courage, friendship, and the importance of finding one's true purpose.' Wow, that's never been done before."@@ @@.player;"It could be good,"@@ you say with a grin. @@.samantha;"I'm good,"@@ she replies. @@.samantha;"You can buy it if you want and tell me if it's good."@@ As you stroll past a quirky gift shop, Samantha stops abruptly, her eyes lighting up. @@.samantha;"Come on, we //have// to go in there,"@@ she says. You follow her inside, the smell of candles and the faint sound of indie music filling the air. Samantha immediately picks up a mug that looks like a cat curled into a ball. @@.samantha;"This is so stupid, but I kind of want it."@@ @@.player;"Why not buy it?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"Come on, I can't be the person who drinks out of a ceramic cat."@@ The two of you wander the aisles, occasionally picking up random items and making jokes about their impracticality. You go through novelty mugs, fake plants, and blocky spheres. <<button "Buy Samantha the cat mug as a surprise" "Day 10 - Samantha 4">>\<<set $d10samanthabuy to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Point out something that suits her perfectly" "Day 10 - Samantha 4">>\<<set $d10samanthabuy to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Tease her about buying the cat mug" "Day 10 - Samantha 4">>\<<set $d10samanthabuy to 2>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ You pause for a moment, glancing down the street at the fading sunlight and the slowly shifting shadows of the evening. The weight of the day and everything you still need to do starts to creep back into your thoughts. @@.player;"Honestly, I should probably head home,"@@ you say, turning back to Samantha. @@.player;"I've got a lot to catch up on, and if I don't start now, it's just going to pile up."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a teasing smirk. @@.samantha;"Look at you, being all responsible. Who are you, and what have you done with the real $name?"@@ @@.player;"Hey, I have my moments,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"But seriously, thanks for dragging me out. I needed this."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, well, I figured someone had to make sure you were still alive."@@ @@.player;"Mission accomplished,"@@ you reply, a goofy grin on your face. @@.samantha;"Alright, fine, go be productive,"@@ she says, laughing. @@.samantha;"But don't let this become a habit, alright? And if you crash and burn halfway through your homework, just remember—it's not my fault you didn't want to hang out more."@@ @@.player;"Alright, alright,"@@ you laugh and shake your head as she turns and heads off down the street, her sarcasm trailing behind her like an echo. The moment feels lighter than you expected, her usual teasing balanced out by her sincerity. As you make your way home, the noise of the day seems quieter, and the stress of everything you have to do is a little less heavy. Spending time with Samantha reminded you why it's worth making space for moments like these, even when life feels overwhelming. <<button "Go home" "Day 10 - 14">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d10samanthabuy is 0>>\ <<if $money > 4>>\ <<set $money -= 5>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ As Samantha lingers near a display of scented candles, distracted by a flowery scent, you glance toward the shelf where she left the cat mug. Without hesitation, you quietly double back, picking it up and heading to the counter. The cashier rings it up with a knowing smile, saying nothing but glancing over at Samantha, who's oblivious to what's happening. You quickly tuck the small bag behind your back as you rejoin her, catching her mid-ramble about how none of the candles smell good. @@.player;"Ready to go?"@@ you ask, keeping your tone casual. @@.samantha;"Yeah, I am,"@@ she says, rolling her eyes and grabbing her bag. @@.samantha;"This place is fun, sure, but I swear half of it is designed to give you buyer's remorse."@@ You step outside, the cool air a welcome contrast to the cozy, slightly overwhelming vibe of the shop. As the two of you walk a few steps, you pull the small bag from behind your back. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, holding it out to her. @@.samantha;"What's this?"@@ she asks, turning and furrowing her brows in confusion. @@.player;"Just a little something for you,"@@ you reply, grinning. Samantha takes the bag cautiously, her expression skeptical as she pulls out the cat mug. For a moment, she just stares at it, her lips twitching like she's trying to decide how to react. @@.samantha;"You didn't,"@@ she says, her voice softer than usual. @@.player;"I just did,"@@ you reply, shrugging. @@.player;"You were obviously into it, come on now. Figured it might brighten up your mornings."@@ @@.samantha;"This is ridiculous,"@@ Samantha says, letting out a laugh and shaking her head as she holds up the mug. A faint blush creeps up her cheeks as she observes the cat. @@.player;"But you love it,"@@ you tease. @@.samantha;"Maybe a little,"@@ she admits, tucking the mug back into the bag carefully. @@.samantha;"Alright, fine, you win this round,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"But don't think this makes you some gift-giving genius, alright?"@@ @@.player;"Sure,"@@ you reply. Samantha nudges you lightly with her elbow as you start walking again. @@.samantha;"Thanks, by the way, it's cute."@@ The gesture shifts the dynamic between you slightly—not enough to feel awkward, but just enough to make the moment feel special. Samantha's usual sarcasm hasn't disappeared, but the warmth in her voice and the way she glances at the bag every so often tells you that she appreciates it more than she's letting on. As the two of you continue down the street, you notice her carrying the bag a little more carefully, as if it means more to her than she'd ever admit out loud. <<else>>\ You check your balance and realize you don't have enough money to buy Samantha the cat mug. You sigh and shake your head, turning your gaze away from the adorable feline. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d10samanthabuy is 1>>\ As Samantha browses the shelves, picking up random items and making sarcastic comments, your eyes land on a quirky journal tucked near the display of novelty items. The cover reads in bold, gold-embossed letters: "//Things I Pretend to Care About.//" @@.player;"This has your name written all over it,"@@ you say, grinning as you show it to her. @@.samantha;"Oh, come on,"@@ Samantha says as she spots the journal. @@.samantha;"Are you trying to sell me something, $name?"@@ @@.player;"It just feels very... //you//,"@@ you reply, smirking. @@.player;"I mean, think about it—you could fill it with all the annoying trends you mock, classes at school, your sarcastic takes on life. It's perfect."@@ She flips through the blank pages, her smirk widening. @@.samantha;"Alright, I'll admit it—it's kind of amazing. But I feel like buying this would be admitting I don't care about anything. That's not true, obviously, I care deeply about the stuff that really matters in life. Like making fun of you and Puke."@@ @@.player;"See, that'll be a place to document all that wisdom,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Think about the material you could save for later."@@ @@.samantha;"You're not wrong,"@@ she says after spending a few moments holding the journal up and weighing her options. @@.samantha;"This could be useful. Fine, you know what, you win this round. But if I start actually using this thing, I'm blaming you."@@ @@.player;"Happy to help,"@@ you say, chuckling. As you both head toward the register, she holds the journal up again, shaking her head. @@.samantha;"You know, maybe you should be my personal shopper once I'm rich."@@ @@.player;"In your dreams,"@@ you say. When she pays for the journal and steps back outside with you, the late afternoon sun catches the faint smile still lingering on her face. She glances at you, holding up the bag with the journal inside. @@.samantha;"Thanks for pointing it out, by the way. You might actually know me better than I thought."@@ The moment feels light but meaningful, and you're glad this connection means something to the both of you. <<else>>\ As you and Samantha step out of the gift shop, you gesture back toward the display of novelty mugs. @@.player;"You sure you don't want it?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"I can totally see you sipping tea out of that cat mug while judging everyone in class. You'd be an icon."@@ @@.samantha;"Not happening,"@@ Samantha says, rolling her eyes. @@.samantha;"I have standards, thank you very much."@@ @@.player;"Do you, though?"@@ you tease, leaning slightly closer. @@.player;"I mean, you did spend way too much time looking at it."@@ @@.samantha;"Excuse me?"@@ Samantha pauses mid-step and turns to face you. @@.samantha;"I was //analyzing// it. There's a difference, thank you very much."@@ @@.player;"Oh, sure,"@@ you reply, laughing. @@.player;"Analyzing whether it'd ruin your carefully curated vibe, right?"@@ @@.samantha;"You're impossible,"@@ Samantha says, shaking her head and giggling. The banter flows easily between you, her laughter punctuating the steady rhythm of your steps as you stroll down the street. The teasing is light and familiar, the kind of exchange you can only have once you know someone well. By the time you reach the next block, the moment with the cat mug has become just another funny story. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 10 - Samantha 5">><</button>>

As the sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of gold and orange, you and Samantha find yourselves at the edge of the bustling shopping district. The streetlights begin to flicker on, casting a warm glow over the sidewalks. Samantha stops at the corner and turns to you. @@.samantha;"Well, I guess this is where we part ways."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I suppose so,"@@ you reply, shifting your bag on your shoulder. @@.player;"Thanks for dragging me out today. It was fun."@@ @@.samantha;"You know, has anyone ever told you you're good company?"@@ she says, her smirk softening into something more genuine. @@.player;"Back at you,"@@ you reply, a smile on your face. @@.player;"At least when you're not roasting me every five seconds."@@ For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the hum of the street filling the quiet between you. Samantha adjusts her bag, glancing down the street in the direction of her house. @@.samantha;"Alright, I'm out. Don't forget to do all your homework and stuff, superstar."@@ @@.player;"I'll do my best."@@ She starts to turn, but then hesitates, glancing back at you. @@.samantha;"Oh, and $name?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"Thanks for today. It was... nice."@@ Before you can even respond, she waves casually and heads off, her usual confident stride carrying her down the sidewalk. You stand and watch her for a few seconds, the faint sound of her humming something under her breath fading into the evening air. As you turn and make your way home, the lingering warmth of the day stays with you. You know you wouldn't trade these moments with one of your closest friends for anything. <<button "Go home" "Day 10 - 14">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D10SamanthaHangout">>\ After school, you find Samantha waiting for you by the front steps, leaning against a handrail with her phone in hand. She glances up as you approach, a sly grin spreading across her face. @@.samantha;"Well, look who decided to show up. I was starting to think Luke's football cult had roped you in after all."@@ @@.player;"Not a chance,"@@ you reply, smirking. @@.player;"I told you I'd come, didn't I?"@@ @@.samantha;"True,"@@ she says, pocketing her phone and straightening up. @@.samantha;"Alright, let's get going. This café's been all over my feed lately. If it's as good as everyone says, we might be in for a treat."@@ The walk to the café is easy, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the sidewalk. Samantha fills the silence with her usual mix of sarcasm and commentary on the people you pass. @@.samantha;"Did you see Jessica's outfit today? She somehow made that outfit work. I'm impressed, if I wore that, it would look so bad."@@ @@.player;"Weren't you the one who said she can make anything work?"@@ you ask, chuckling. @@.samantha;"Hey, I stand by that,"@@ Samantha replies with a grin. @@.samantha;"It's just I didn't expect her to go and dress like it's still the 90s."@@ When you arrive at the café, the place is buzzing and the air is filled with the rich aroma of coffee. The décor is chic but cozy, with mismatched chairs, hanging plants, and a neon sign that reads //Sip Happens//. @@.samantha;"This is the moment of truth,"@@ Samantha says, scanning the menu board. @@.samantha;"I'm going for the lavender honey latte. What about you?"@@ <<button "Order the trendiest drink" "Day 10 - Samantha 1">>\<<set $d10samanthadrink to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Order something basic" "Day 10 - Samantha 1">>\<<set $d10samanthadrink to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Make a joke about the menu" "Day 10 - Samantha 1">>\<<set $d10samanthadrink to 2>>\<</button>>

<<set $day to 11>>\ <img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> The sharp buzz of your alarm jolts you awake, the faint morning light creeping through the blinds. Groaning, you reach out to silence the noise, slapping the snooze button before reluctantly sitting up. The quiet hum of the house reminds you that everyone else is going about their morning routines, leaving you with time to get ready. You rub your eyes and stretch, your mind slowly shaking off the fog of sleep. Sliding out of bed, you shuffle over to your closet, the soft creak of the door breaking down the stillness of the room. The familiar rows of clothes greet you: a mix of well-worn T-shirts, hoodies, jeans, and the occasional nicer shirt that hasn't seen the light of day in a long time. <div class="note">\ <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ I finally implemented a closet system! </div>\ <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 11 - 2">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">><</button>> <<button "Just throw something on" "Day 11 - 2">><</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ The quiet of your room feels heavier as the night deepens, the soft hum of the world outside filtering in through the window. You lie on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, the events of the day swirling in your mind. The room is dim, illuminated only by the faint glow of your desk lamp. You think back to the moments that stood out: fleeting looks, small victories, and the $referto that continues to shape your life. But tonight, as you close your eyes, something about it all feels manageable. Maybe it's simply the fact that you made it through another day. Nevertheless, there's a flicker of something reassuring in the stillness. Your breathing slows, the tension in your body easing as sleep begins to pull at you. Whatever tomorrow brings—be it school, the football game, or just more of the unexpected—you'll face it head-on. For now, though, you let the quiet take over, your thoughts drifting like leaves on a calm breeze until they fade completely. And like that, you're asleep. <<button "A new day" "Day 12 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> The fluorescent lights of homeroom buzz softly as students trickle in, the room still waking up from the early morning haze. You take your usual seat in the back, gently placing your bag on the floor and pulling your phone out of your pocket. Around you, the chatter of classmates fills the air—a blend of sleepy murmurs and animated conversations. Jessica sits in the seat next to you, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders as she leans back in her seat. Even this early, she looks camera-ready, her glossy nails tapping against her phone screen. @@.jessica;"No, I know,"@@ she says on the phone, her voice carrying just enough to be heard over the general hum of the room. @@.jessica;"It's the worst timing ever. Like, the game is literally tomorrow, and we're still down a cheerleader."@@ You glance up, pretending to be focused on your phone while keeping one ear trained on the conversation. @@.jessica;"Yeah, Mandy moved to Iowa, I told you,"@@ Jessica continues, her perfectly manicured fingers twisting a strand of her hair absentmindedly. @@.jessica;"The routine's already a mess because of that. Coach is freaking out, and I can't blame her. We can't do a pyramid with one person missing. It's just—ugh."@@ She pauses, nodding as if the person on the other end can see her. @@.jessica;"I mean, sure, I guess we could rework it, but that's going to take //forever//, and we've already practiced this routine a million times. We don't really have time for this."@@ She falls quiet for a moment, listening to what the other person is saying. Then, with a practiced flick of her hair, she says, @@.jessica;"I know, yeah. I'll talk to Coach after class and see if she has any ideas, but unless someone magically volunteers today, we're gonna have to go out there with a busted routine. It's going to be so embarrassing."@@ She ends the call with a soft sigh, setting her phone down on the desk and staring out the window. Despite her frustration, there's not even a hint of malice in her tone—it's clear she cares about the team and wants the routine to succeed, but she's caught in a situation she can't control. As the bell rings to start homeroom, Jessica shifts in her seat and glances around the classroom, her usual bright, social smile not appearing. For a moment, you wonder what it must be like to juggle all the expectations of someone like her—the pressure to always have it together. You return your focus to your phone, but her words linger in your mind. <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - 3">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> Ms. Carter rises from her desk, immediately quieting down the hum of morning chatter. @@.girl;"Alright, class, settle down,"@@ she says, gently tapping a stack of papers against the desk to straighten them. @@.girl;"I think you'll all be happy to hear that there are no big announcements today. This period will be free time. Use it to catch up on homework, read, or whatever you need to do."@@ A ripple of murmurs and rustling echoes through the room as students take out books, phones, or laptops. Some settle to chat in hushed tones, while others just stare at the wall, completely zoned out. You pull out your laptop, pretending to be busy, but your attention shifts when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. Jessica leans over from the seat next to you glancing over at you. @@.jessica;"Hey, $name,"@@ she says, her voice as bright and casual as ever. @@.jessica;"Got a minute?"@@ @@.player;"Uh, sure,"@@ you say, a little surprised. @@.player;"What's up?"@@ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ As she settles in, her eyes sweep over you briefly. There's a flicker of something in her expression—curiosity, maybe—but she doesn't comment directly. Instead, she leans toward you even more in a way that feels casual and intentional. @@.jessica;"So, you might've overheard me totally spiraling earlier about the cheer squad being short a person,"@@ she begins. @@.jessica;"Ugh, it's all such a mess. But don't worry—I'm not here to rope you into a pyramid or anything. Yet."@@ She pauses, letting the word hang in the air for a split second too long before continuing with a small laugh. @@.jessica;"Kidding, just kidding. Sort of."@@ You blink, unsure how to respond, but before you can say anything, she shifts gears. @@.jessica;"Actually, I was wondering if you'd do me a little favor. Nothing major,"@@ she says quickly, as if sensing potential resistance. Jessica leans in slightly, her tone softening. @@.jessica;"We've got practice today after school, and it's crunch time with the game tomorrow. The routine's an entire mess because we're down a person, and we're trying to rework everything last minute. I thought... maybe you could come by and, you know, watch? Give us some feedback?"@@ Her gaze lingers for a moment, and there's a subtle shift in her expression—just enough to suggest she's choosing her words carefully. @@.jessica;"You've got a good eye, you know?"@@ she adds. @@.jessica;"You notice stuff. I feel you'd be able to tell us what works and what doesn't without sugarcoating it."@@ You open your mouth, but she cuts in, her tone turning a touch more playful. @@.jessica;"And, hey, who knows? Maybe you'll get inspired and decide to give it a try yourself. I mean, just saying, we //are// looking for someone to fill in after all."@@ The way she says it is light, like a joke, but there's a spark of something genuine in her words. Her eyes flick to you briefly, as if gauging your reaction, before she leans back in her chair with an easy smile. @@.jessica;"But seriously, all jokes aside, it'd mean a lot if you came by,"@@ she continues, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. @@.jessica;"Even if it's just to hang out and watch for a bit. No pressure or anything, of course!"@@ The words "no pressure" hang in the air, but the way she looks at you suggests otherwise. It's not forceful, you know Jessica isn't like that, but there's a certain charm in her approach. An almost magnetic way of making it hard to say no. <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"Hey, so I don't know if you heard me earlier, but the cheer squad's kind of in a situation,"@@ she says with a soft laugh. @@.jessica;"We're down a person, and it's messing up everything for Friday's game."@@ Her voice is breezy, but there's a faint edge of stress beneath it. @@.jessica;"Mandy's in Iowa and now the pyramid's all wonky, the timing's off—Coach is not happy."@@ @@.jessica;"Anyway, I'm not asking you to join the team, that'd be a stretch,"@@ she says, flashing a playful grin. @@.jessica;"I just thought it would be helpful if you came to watch us practice tomorrow. We're making some last-minute changes to adjust for the missing person, and having someone from outside the team there could really help. You know, someone who's not stuck in their own head about how it's supposed to look."@@ Jessica tilts her head slightly, her bright blue eyes sparkling. @@.jessica;"And honestly, you seem like the kind of person who'd give it to us straight. No fluff or sugarcoating—just 'this works' or 'this doesn't. That's what we need right now."@@ She pauses, watching your reaction carefully. @@.jessica;"It's not a big deal or anything. You can just swing by after school, take a look, and let us know what you think. Easy, right? Think you can spare a little time for us today?"@@ <</if>>\ While homeroom buzzes around you, Jessica's attention is completely locked on you, awaiting your response. <div class="note">\ <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ You will need to look androgynous in order to participate and dress up as a cheerleader! There will be one transformation point soon, but if you're still not androgynous after that, you'll miss the chance to try out being a cheerleader. Your hidden feminineLooks value is currently $feminineLooks. It will have to be at least 40 for you to participate. </div>\ <<button "Agree" "Day 11 - 4">>\<<set $d11practiceAttend to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_attend_cheer_practice" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't agree" "Day 11 - 4">>\<<set $d11practiceAttend to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_attend_cheer_practice" false "story">><</button>>

<<if $d11practiceAttend is true>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "AcceptJessica">>\ You hesitate for a moment, glancing at Jessica's hopeful expression. Jessica's smile is warm, her gaze unwavering but not pushy. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you finally say, nodding. @@.player;"I'll come by and check it out."@@ Jessica's face lights up immediately, her smile widening into something genuine and grateful. @@.jessica;"Really?"@@ she asks enthusiastically. @@.jessica;"That's awesome! Thank you, $name. You have no idea how much this is going to help. The squad's been kind of stressed lately, so having someone new there might actually make it... fun, you know?"@@ @@.player;"It's no big deal,"@@ you shrug, trying to downplay it. @@.player;"I'm just watching, right? No promises on how helpful I'll be."@@ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ @@.jessica;"Oh, I'm not worried about that,"@@ Jessica says, tilting her head slightly. There's a hint of something playful in her eyes. \ <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"Oh, I'm not worried about that,"@@ Jessica says. \ <</if>>\ \ @@.jessica;"You'll be great—I can tell."@@ @@.jessica;"We're practicing on the football field after school today,"@@ she says, reaching for her phone. She quickly types something before glancing back up at you. @@.jessica;"Just swing by whenever you can. Thanks for saying yes. You'll love it. Promise."@@ <<else>>\ <<grantAchievement "RejectJessica">>\ You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to respond. Jessica's request seems genuine, but you can already feel the awkwardness of standing on the sidelines at a cheerleading practice. Finally, you shake your head slightly, offering her a polite smile. @@.player;"I don't think I'd be much help, to be honest,"@@ you say, sounding casual but firm. @@.player;"Cheerleading's not really my... area of expertise, and I wouldn't even know what to look for. But good luck with the practice—I'm sure you guys will figure it out."@@ Jessica's smile falters for just a split second, but she recovers quickly, flipping her hair over her shoulder with an easy laugh. @@.jessica;"Yeah, I totally get it,"@@ she says, waving a hand dismissively. @@.jessica;"It was kind of a weird ask, anyway. I mean, cheerleading isn't exactly everyone's cup of tea."@@ Her tone is light, but there's a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. She glances at her phone as if to busy herself, then looks back at you with her usual bright demeanor. @@.jessica;"Thanks for considering it though,"@@ she says with a small shrug. @@.jessica;"We'll figure something out. We always do. And hey, if you change your mind, you know where to find us."@@ She flashes you one last smile, this one a little softer, before turning back. <</if>>\ Watching the cheerleaders practice wasn't exactly on your agenda for the week, but something about Jessica's confidence in you feels oddly encouraging. The rest of homeroom passes uneventfully, although the thought of practice lingers in your mind. When the bell rings, you grab your things and head to your next class. <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - 5">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> The cafeteria is chaotic as always as you, Samantha, and Luke gather at your usual table. You pick at your own meal, bread with some strange mystery meat. Lunch is almost over, and you've barely touched your meal. When you look up though, you notice Samantha eyeing Luke's hands with a raised brow. His knuckles are rough, his palms calloused—classic signs of hours spent at football practice. @@.samantha;"Puke,"@@ she says suddenly, pointing her fork at him. @@.samantha;"Do you ever, like... moisturize?"@@ Luke pauses mid-bite, glancing at her with a confused expression. @@.luke;"What? Why would I do that?"@@ Samantha sets her fork down with a dramatic sigh, shaking her head like she's just witnessed a great tragedy. @@.samantha;"Why? Because your hands look like you've been wrestling sandpaper. They're so rough."@@ @@.luke;"They're fine,"@@ Luke says, completely unbothered. @@.luke;"Football does that. I'm not exactly worried about having soft hands. I'm worried about winning the game tomorrow."@@ Samantha narrows her eyes at him, digging through her backpack with purpose. @@.samantha;"Well, you should be,"@@ she comments. She pulls out a small tube of lotion, the pastel packaging immediately recognizable as something floral or fruity. @@.samantha;"Lucky for you, I have just the thing."@@ @@.luke;"No way, not happening,"@@ Luke leans back, already shaking his head. Samantha unscrews the cap, the faint scent of lavender and something citrusy wafting through the air. @@.samantha;"Oh, come on,"@@ she says, rolling her eyes. @@.samantha;"It's just lotion. It won't kill you, I promise."@@ @@.luke;"Nope,"@@ Luke states firmly, crossing his arms. @@.luke;"I'm not going to put that shit on myself. I'll smell like a flower shop."@@ @@.samantha;"You say that like it's a bad thing,"@@ Samantha quips. She doesn't push further though, instead turning her attention to you. @@.samantha;"How about you, $name? Your hands could probably use it."@@ <<button "Take the lotion" "Day 11 - 6">>\<<set $d11lotion to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_lotion" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't take the lotion" "Day 11 - 6">>\<<set $d11lotion to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_lotion" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> <<if $d11lotion is true>>\ You glance at the small tube of pastel-colored lotion in Samantha's hand and shrug. @@.player;"Sure, why not? My hands could use it."@@ Samantha beams, squeezing a small dollop onto your palm. The floral-citrus scent wafts up immediately, stronger than you expected, and you start rubbing it into your skin. @@.samantha;"See?"@@ Samantha says, leaning back triumphantly. @@.samantha;"Doesn't that feel so much better, $name? You're welcome by the way."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, sure,"@@ Luke snorts, shaking his head as he finishes the last of his meal. @@.luke;"Just what he needed, right? Smelling like a lavender field."@@ You laugh lightly, but before you can come up with a witty reply, the lunch bell rings, cutting through the noise of the cafeteria. @@.samantha;"Alright, time for more school,"@@ Samantha says, gathering her tray. @@.samantha;"Don't say I never did anything nice for you, $name!"@@ As Luke and Samantha get up, you suddenly feel a wave of heat rush through your body—a familiar, unsettling sensation that you've come to associate with the $referto. Your stomach twists as you realize you're going to have to get out of this crowded cafeteria. @@.player;"Uh, I'll catch up with you guys,"@@ you say quickly, your voice a little higher-pitched than you intended. @@.player;"Can one of you take my tray for me?"@@ @@.luke;"What?"@@ Luke asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.luke;"Where are you going?"@@ @@.player;"Bathroom,"@@ you blurt out, already grabbing your bag and standing up. @@.player;"My stomach..."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, Pacific Crest's cafeteria food got to you,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"I'll take your tray for you, be careful."@@ You dart toward the hallway, desperately trying to buy a few more seconds before the $referto comes into effect. The moment you're out of sight, you pick up the pace, heading straight for the nearest restroom. You burst into the restroom, glad to find it completely empty. Tossing your bag onto the counter, you look into the mirror as your $referto fully takes over. <<set $nextScene to "Day 11 - Restroom">> <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>> <<else>>\ You glance at the tube of lotion Samantha is waving in your face, its design and scent almost mocking you. Smirking, you shake your head. @@.player;"Nah, I'm good."@@ Samantha sighs dramatically, leaning back in her chair like she's been personally defeated. @@.samantha;"Ugh, you two are hopeless,"@@ she says, gesturing between you and Luke. @@.samantha;"I'm just trying to help, and all I get is rejection. My charity knows no bounds. Especially you, $name. You could totally rock the lavender vibe."@@ Before you can respond, the shrill sound of the lunch bell cuts through the air, signaling the end of the period. Around you, chairs scrape against the floor as students begin gathering their trays and bags. @@.luke;"Saved by the bell, weren't you?"@@ Luke says, chuckling as he glances at you. The three of you head toward the tray drop-off, the buzz of the cafeteria fading as the crowd begins to disperse. Samantha, as always, is already plotting her next dramatic moment. She keeps muttering about "ungrateful friends" even as you all part ways. <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - 7">>\<<set $d11lotion to true>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

The rest of the school day blurs by in a mix of hurried classes and distracted thoughts. \ <<if $d8rumors is true>>\ You hear whispers about you, as people take quick glances in the hallways. \ <</if>>\ By the end the final bell rings, you're feeling a little tired. Luckily, \ <<if $d11practiceAttend is true>>\ you know you can relax by watching the cheerleaders. <<button "Go to see the cheerleaders" "Day 11 - Cheerleading">><</button>> <<else>>\ you know you're going straight home to relax and unwind after the long day. <<button "Go right home" "Day 11 - 8">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ The house is quiet when you step inside, the soft click of the door shutting behind you echoing faintly in the stillness. You take off your shoes at the entrance, your muscles aching slightly from the day's practice. The faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the soft ticking of a clock are the only sounds accompanying you as you make your way upstairs. Once in your room, you shut the door and let out a long breath, leaning against it for a moment. The familiar surroundings feel grounding after the whirlwind of a day you had—the bed neatly made, your desk cluttered, and the faint glow of the lamp on your nightstand. You drop your backpack and sink into the chair by your desk, your mind still spinning with everything that happened. The rhythm of the cheers, the applause of the squad, Jessica's encouraging smile—it all lingers in your thoughts. <<elseif $d11joinCheerleaders is false or $d11watchedCheerleaders is true>>\ The house greets you with quiet as you step inside, the faint creak of the door marking your arrival. You drop your bag by the entrance, your body still carrying the weight of a day that was far more tiring than you expected—even though you didn't participate in practice. While watching the squad had been eye-opening, it left you with a strange uncertainty. Heading upstairs, you avoid the usual evening hum of the house, skipping any distractions and going straight to your room. You tug at your shirt absentmindedly, unsure what to make of the day's events. Tomorrow would bring a chance to figure out where you fit in this world, but for now, the quiet is enough. <<elseif $d11practiceAttend is false>>\ The house feels still as you step inside, the soft creak of the door the only sound greeting you. Your thoughts drift back to the day as you head upstairs, the soft thud of your footsteps the only noise breaking the silence. Skipping practice had seemed like the right decision at the time—watching cheerleading didn't feel like your thing, no matter how persuasive Jessica had been. But now, there's a faint nagging in the back of your mind, like you'd missed out on something. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - 9">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ You sit on the edge of your bed, the stillness of your room wrapping around you. Memories of the practice with the cheerleaders are still swirling in your mind, leaving you buzzing with both exhaustion and excitement. The mirror above your dresser catches your reflection, and for a moment, you pause. The day's events playback in your mind—Jessica's encouragement, the way the squad rallied around you, the warm laughter at practice. <<if $feminineLooks > 59>>\ But as your eyes linger on your reflection, the changes seem impossible to ignore. The face staring back at you is yours, but softer—the traces of femininity making you look more like a tomboyish girl than the person you're used to seeing. Even your body seems to move differently, a kind of fluidity in your gestures that wasn't there before. Your hands rest against your lap as you take in the sight. You let out a deep breath, running a hand through your hair, the movement effortless but unnervingly natural. Finally, you lie back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. <<else>>\ But as your eyes linger on the subtle shifts in your reflection—the way your features seem to sit somewhere between familiar and unfamiliar—the reality of the changes settles heavily in your chest. You let out a long sigh, brushing a hand through your hair, the strands falling easily back into place. Without thinking, you lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as your thoughts swirl in the stillness of the room. <</if>>\ <<if $d7tellLily is true>>\ Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of your door creaking open. Glancing over, you see Lily stepping inside without knocking. She's wearing an oversized hoodie and pajama pants, her black hair tied up in a messy bun. @@.lily;"You've got a weird look on your face,"@@ she says, leaning against the doorframe. @@.lily;"Brother, sister, whatever you are. What's up?"@@ @@.player;"Lily,"@@ you sigh, rolling your eyes. @@.player;"Don't you ever knock?"@@ @@.lily;"Don't you ever lock your door?"@@ she shoots back, smirking. @@.lily;"Seriously, though. You've been acting weird all day. Did something happen?"@@ You hesitate. @@.player;"It's nothing. Just a long day."@@ Lily steps further into the room, plopping onto your bed without invitation. She rests her chin in her hands, narrowing her eyes at you. @@.lily;"Let me guess—curse stuff?"@@ You give her a pointed look. @@.player;"It's not exactly something I can turn off."@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, no kidding,"@@ Lily says as she studies your features. @@.lily;"You look... different. What happened?"@@ Her words make you pause, and for a moment, you consider brushing her off. But Lily knows about the curse and she's been surprisingly supportive, though not without her usual bluntness. <<button "Tell Lily what you did this afternoon" "Day 11 - Lily (Knows O)">>\<<set $d11cheerleadingLily to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_tell_lily_cheer" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide not to" "Day 11 - Lily (Knows O)">>\<<set $d11cheerleadingLily to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_tell_lily_cheer" false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ The knock on your door is quick and sharp, more of a warning than a request. Before you can answer, the door swings open, and your sister strides in. Lily's fiery energy fills the room like a spark catching dry wood, immediately changing the mood of the place. @@.lily;"Okay, what the hell is going on with you,"@@ Lily demands, her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowing as they rake over you. You sit up quickly, caught off guard. @@.player;"What are you talking about?"@@ @@.lily;"Don't play dumb, $name,"@@ she says, stepping closer. @@.lily;"Have you looked in a mirror lately? You've been changing, like, a lot. Don't think I don't notice you sneaking back in lately, all weird and quiet."@@ Her gaze sharpens, her voice rising slightly. @@.lily;"Your face and even the way you carry yourself—it's like you're turning into someone else, and you're just pretending like nothing's happening?"@@ You try to interject, but her energy doesn't leave much room for interruption. @@.lily;"And you've been acting so weird too,"@@ she presses, facing you directly. @@.lily;"I really need to know what's going on. You're my brother—or at least, you //were//—and I can't just sit back and pretend everything's normal when it's so obviously not."@@ Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, the room feels stiflingly silent. Yet, you can see concern etched into her features beneath all the frustration. @@.lily;"So, are you going to tell me what's going on?"@@ she says, her voice quieter now. @@.lily;"Or am I supposed to figure it out myself?"@@ <<button "Be honest with Lily" "Day 11 - Lily (Knows X)">>\<<set $d11tellLily to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_tell_lily" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Brush her off" "Day 11 - Lily (Knows X)">>\<<set $d11tellLily to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_tell_lily" false "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ The dim glow of your desk lamp fills the room as you settle into the chair, scrolling through your phone and letting your mind wander. The past few days have been a lot. New clubs, new routines, and a whirl of conversations still buzz in your mind. You think about everything that happened, your fingers idly scrolling without paying much attention to the screen. The sound of footsteps in the hallway breaks the silence, followed by a soft knock on your door. Before you can say anything, the door creaks open, and your sister steps inside. She's wearing an oversized hoodie and pajama pants, her black hair tied back into a messy bun. @@.lily;"Yo,"@@ she says, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. @@.lily;"You've been awfully quiet lately. What's up with that?"@@ You shrug, spinning your chair to face her. @@.player;"Just tired. Long day."@@ Lily raises an eyebrow, her sharp gaze scanning you like she's trying to figure out if you're telling the whole truth. @@.lily;"Uh-huh,"@@ she says, stepping further into the room. She plops down on your bed, crossing her legs. @@.lily;"Are you going to tell me what this long day is?"@@ Her tone is teasing, but there's a flicker of something softer beneath it. @@.player;"It's nothing serious,"@@ you say, hesitating slightly. @@.player;"Just trying to figure out some school stuff."@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, but, you're okay, right?"@@ she asks. @@.lily;"You've just seemed... different lately."@@ <<button "Open up to her" "Day 11 - Lily (Cheerleader X)">>\<<set $d11lilyopen to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_open_up_lily" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Keep it neutral" "Day 11 - Lily (Cheerleader X)">>\<<set $d11lilyopen to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_open_up_lily" false "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $csquadbond to Math.clamp($csquadbond + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "JoinCheerleaders">>\ @@.player;"Alright, I'll give it a shot,"@@ you say, the words slipping out before you can second-guess yourself. Jessica's grin widens and her eyes light up. @@.jessica;"Yes! You're officially our hero. Seriously, you have no idea how much this is going to help."@@ The rest of the squad exchange curious glances as Jessica turns to them, her energy electric. @@.jessica;"Alright, everyone, meet our new temporary team member—$name!"@@ she announces, her voice carrying across the field. @@.jessica;"Mandy's out, so $name is stepping in to save the day."@@ A few of the cheerleaders cheer and clap, though some just look intrigued, their expressions a mix of amusement and approval. Jessica motions for you to follow her. @@.jessica;"Come on,"@@ she says, already walking toward the girls' room. @@.jessica;"If you're going to join us, you need to look the part. Let's get you a uniform."@@ @@.player;"Wait, wait,"@@ you say, stopping Jessica in her tracks. @@.player;"I'm not allowed in there."@@ @@.jessica;"The locker room?"@@ Jessica replies, her expression blank. @@.player;"The... girls' room?"@@ you say, feeling like you're pointing out the obvious. @@.jessica;"Oh, just come in,"@@ Jessica says, marching toward you and grabbing your hand. She drags you into the locker room, shutting the door behind you. @@.jessica;"Nobody will mind. It's not like you're seeing us naked or anything. Just don't steal anything."@@ <<button "Change into the uniform" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 2">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> As the sun dips lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the field, Jessica gathers the squad together for the final part of practice. Jessica gathers the squad together for the final part of practice. Her clipboard is tucked under one arm, and her ponytail bounces as she steps to the center of the group. @@.jessica;"Alright, team, let's finish strong,"@@ she says, clapping her hands. @@.jessica;"We're going to teach $name a short cheer. it's a staple—simple, high-energy, and it looks great when we're hyping up the crowd. Do you think you're ready?"@@ You nod, the adrenaline and the excitement from the day making you eager to take on the next challenge. @@.player;"Yeah, let's do it."@@ @@.jessica;"That's the spirit!"@@ Jessica says with a grin. @@.jessica;"Alright, everyone, line up! Let's run through it once so $name can see how it's done."@@ The cheerleaders form a tight line, their movements synchronized as Jessica counts them in. @@.jessica;"Five, six, seven, eight!"@@ @@.girl;"Let's go. Panthers!"@@ the squad says, bursting into motion. Their arms pump in time with the chant, not a beat off. @@.girl;"Let's fight, Panthers! Blue and white, we own the night!"@@ Their voices are sharp and rhythmic, their footwork crisp as they step and clap in perfect unison. Jessica finishes with a high V motion, her arms stretched confidently above her head as the team freezes in their final pose. She turns to you, her smile bright. @@.jessica;"Got it?"@@ The squad steps aside to give you room, all eyes on you as Jessica claps encouragingly. @@.jessica;"Don't overthink it. Just match the rhythm, hit the motions, and give it energy. We'll help you if you need it."@@ You take your position, heart racing slightly. Jessica counts you in again. @@.jessica;"Five, six, seven, eight!"@@ The cheer flows out of you effortlessly. Your arms snap into the correct positions, your feet follow the steps with surprising ease, and your voice projects confidently through the chant. By the time you finish with the high V pose, the squad is already clapping and cheering. @@.girl;"Woah,"@@ Mia says, her hands on her hips. @@.girl;"How is he //this// good? That was better than some of the tryouts we've had."@@ @@.girl;"Not just good,"@@ Ashley adds, shaking her head. @@.girl;"That was perfect."@@ Jessica steps closer, her grin widening. @@.jessica;"$name, I really don't know what kind of cheerleading fairy blessed you, but you've got serious talent. You hit every motion, your timing was spot-on, and you even projected like you've been leading cheers for years."@@ @@.player;"It just... felt natural, I guess,"@@ you say, laughing in jubilation. @@.jessica;"Well, it looked natural too,"@@ Jessica says, clapping you on the shoulder. @@.jessica;"Let's try it one more time with the whole squad. Everyone, line up!"@@ This time, Jessica places you at the front of the group, her voice full of encouragement. @@.jessica;"You're leading this one, $name. Don't worry though—we'll be right behind you."@@ As she counts in, the squad moves as one, their voices harmonizing with yours as you lead the chant. @@.player;"Let's go, Panthers! Let's fight, Panthers! Blue and white, we own the night!"@@ The rhythm is electric, the combined energy of the squad lifting the cheer to a whole new level. Your movements are sharp and precise, your voice carries across the field, and when the final pose hits, it's clear from the applause and whistles that the practice has ended on a high note. @@.jessica;"That was incredible!"@@ Jessica says, spinning toward you. @@.jessica;"Seriously, you've got to stick with this. You're a natural-born cheerleader."@@ The other cheerleaders crowd around, their enthusiasm spilling over as they offer compliments and high-fives. You can't help but smile as you grab your water bottle and take a long sip, your heart still racing from the excitement of the last cheer. @@.jessica;"Alright, team, that was amazing!"@@ Jessica says, her voice brimming with pride. @@.jessica;"I can't believe how much we got done today. $name, you did so well!"@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.girl;"You look like you've been doing this for years,"@@ Mia chimes in, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. @@.girl;"That high V at the end? Perfection."@@ @@.girl;"I'm just saying, $name—if you ever want to go full-time with this, you'd fit right in,"@@ Ashley says, leaning in with a playful smirk. @@.girl;"You're basically one of us already."@@ @@.jessica;"Totally,"@@ Jessica says, nodding enthusiastically. @@.jessica;"We're so glad you're here."@@ As the squad gathers their things, you notice a few of them glancing at you with small smiles, their expressions warm and encouraging. @@.girl;"You know, you've got such a great look for cheerleading,"@@ Tori says. @@.girl;"Like, your lines are super clean, and the uniform just... works on you."@@ @@.girl;"She's right, you know,"@@ Mia grins, nudging you lightly with her elbow. @@.girl;"You've got that vibe—confident, but approachable. You're totally photogenic too. We need to get you in the squad photo."@@ @@.jessica;"Agreed,"@@ Jessica adds, her voice teasing but kind. @@.jessica;"I mean, look at you. You're already rocking the uniform better than most of us right now."@@ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You feel your cheeks flush as they continue to compliment you, their words feeling oddly... right. You realize that it's not just about cheerleading. It's about the way they see you, the way they accept you without any hesitation or question. <<else>>\ You feel a little embarrassed as they continue to compliment you. You appreciated what they were saying, but you really weren't a girl. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"By the way, have you thought about what you're wearing for tomorrow?"@@ Mia asks, tilting her head. @@.girl;"You're coming to the game, right?"@@ @@.player;"The game?"@@ you blink, caught off guard. @@.player;"In front of everyone? I hadn't really thought about it."@@ @@.jessica;"Well, you're cheering with us,"@@ Jessica says, her tone making it clear it's not up for debate. @@.jessica;"We'll figure out the details tomorrow, but you're basically part of the squad now. We can't do this without you."@@ The other girls nod in agreement, their excitement making it impossible to say no. @@.girl;"Hey, we're all going to grab food after this,"@@ Mia mentions, perking up. @@.girl;"You should come with us, $name."@@ @@.jessica;"Yes, you have to!"@@ Jessica says, her grin widening. @@.jessica;"It's kind of a post-practice tradition—plus, you've totally earned it after today."@@ @@.girl;"You're one of the girls now,"@@ Ashley says with a laugh, tossing her bag over her shoulder. @@.girl;"No excuses."@@ You hesitate for a moment, caught off guard by how easily they've embraced you. @@.player;"Are you sure?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"I don't want to intrude or anything."@@ @@.girl;"Intrude?"@@ Mia waves off your concern with an exaggerated eye roll. @@.girl;"Please. You're part of the squad now, and that means you're part of everything. Come on, it'll be fun."@@ @@.jessica;"Besides, we need to celebrate your debut,"@@ Jessica leans in with a playful smile. @@.jessica;"Today was basically legendary."@@ <<button "Go to dinner with the cheerleaders" "Day 11 - Dinner">>\<<set $d11dinner to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_dinner" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Go home early" "Day 11 - 8">>\<<set $d11dinner to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_dinner" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-locker.png"> <<set $d11top to $top>>\ <<set $d11pants to $pants>>\ The locker room feels both familiar and foreign. The scent of detergent, sweat, and faintly floral body spray lingers in the air. You can't help but judge how bad the boy's locker room smells in comparison. Jessica hums softly as she rifles through a large bin, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the plastic as she sifts through the neatly folded uniforms. The sounds of her rummaging fills the otherwise quiet room, punctuated by her occasional mutterings. @@.jessica;"Let's see, Mandy's usual size is too small, but this one should work,"@@ she says, pulling out a top in the school's signature colors. She holds it up briefly, glancing at you with a grin. @@.jessica;"Here. It's stretchy, so it'll fit fine. Plus, it'll look great on you."@@ @@.jessica;"And for the bottom..."@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Aha! Here!"@@ In one hand, Jessica holds a pair of fitted cheer shorts, their sleek design clearly made for practicality. In the other, a pleated cheer skirt, its vibrant color and crisp folds embodying the iconic cheerleader aesthetic. She turns to you, holding them up side by side with an appraising look. @@.player;"What is this?"@@ you ask, despite fully knowing what the options mean. @@.jessica;"It's the moment of truth,"@@ she says, her tone light but with a touch of amusement. @@.jessica;"Shorts or skirt? No pressure—just pick whatever feels right for you."@@ She sets both options on the bench, stepping back and leaning casually against the lockers. @@.jessica;"I'll give you some space to change. Take your time,"@@ Jessica says, a playful twinkle in her eyes. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<set $bindoption to true>>\ <<set $d11bra to true>>\ @@.jessica;"Hey,"@@ she says suddenly, her tone softening. Her gaze flickers to you—not your face, but somewhere lower. @@.jessica;"This might sound random, but... are you okay?"@@ Your stomach flips, and you realize with a jolt that her sharp eyes might've caught on to something you've been trying to hide. You glance down instinctively, your chest feeling heavier under the pressure of the binding. @@.jessica;"No judgment or anything,"@@ she adds. @@.jessica;"It's just that if you're gonna be moving around a lot, and you're binding or whatever... It might not be the best idea for practice."@@ @@.player;"It's just... you know,"@@ you say softly. @@.jessica;"Like I said, no judgment,"@@ she says holding up a hand. @@.jessica;"We've got a ton of extras in here. You should grab a sports bra or something—it'll help. Last thing you need is to feel uncomfortable or hurt yourself."@@ She pulls out a clean sports bra with a simple design. She holds it up briefly before placing it on the bench beside the other options. @@.jessica;"It's totally up to you, but I think it'll make a difference."@@ @@.jessica;"Anyway, just let me know when you're ready,"@@ she says, stepping toward the door. @@.jessica;"And don't stress. You've got this."@@ <<elseif $breastsProg > 1>>\ Jessica's grin is bright as she looks at you, but as her gaze flickers over your chest, she hesitates for a moment. Her eyebrows knit briefly before smoothing into a neutral expression. <<if $bra is 0>>\ Her gaze flickers briefly to your chest, and you can see the realization hit her as her smile turns a little more relaxed. She doesn't comment, though, instead nodding approvingly. @@.jessica;"The top should fit fine over what you're wearing,"@@ she says lightly. She steps toward the door, pausing just enough to glance back over her shoulder. @@.jessica;"If you need anything else, just let me know. We've got backup stuff, and the girls are pros at making things work."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $bra to 0>>\ <<set $d11bra to true>>\ @@.jessica;"Hey, um... do you have a sports bra or something?"@@ she asks, her tone casual. @@.player;"Uh, no,"@@ you freeze, heat rising to your cheeks. @@.player;"I didn't really think about that."@@ Jessica's smile softens into something more understanding. @@.jessica;"No worries,"@@ she says quickly, already crouching to dig through the bin again. @@.jessica;"We've got plenty of extras. You definitely don't want to be jumping around out there without one. Trust me when I say it's not fun."@@ After a moment, she pulls out a black sports bra, holding it up like a trophy. @@.jessica;"Here we go. This one's stretchy, so it should work for now. I'll let you change. You're going to look great though—I can already tell."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ The door swings shut behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet locker room. The air feels heavier now, the reality of the situation setting in. The decision about what to wear feels different, the cheer uniform suddenly more than just fabric. Your eyes flick from the shorts to the skirt as you wonder what to put on. <<button "Put on the skirt" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 3">>\<<set $d11skirt to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_bottoms" "skirt" "story">><</button>> <<button "Put on the shorts" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 3">>\<<set $d11skirt to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_bottoms" "shorts" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-locker.png"> You take a deep breath, fingers trembling slightly as you gently tug at your top. Hints of flat, smooth skin underneath your top come into view. You pull it free, folding it and safely placing it on the bench. Next, you let your fingers hook into the waistband of your pants. You push them down, stepping out of the pooled fabric. You're left standing in only your boxers, chest heaving. <<set $bind to false>>\ <<set $top to 8>>\ <<if $d11bra is true>>\ You glance at the black sports bra Jessica handed you. It feels surprisingly lightweight in your hands. It's simple, functional, and clearly meant for support during activity. Holding it still sends a jolt of hesitation running through you though. //It's fine, $name,// you tell yourself, exhaling slowly. //It's just part of the uniform after all, right?// You slip the bra over your head, the elastic band snapping lightly into place as you adjust the straps. The fabric hugs your chest snugly, but not uncomfortably, and as you shift around, it becomes clear why cheerleaders wear these. They make your boobs feel so much more comfortable, the sensation being oddly reassuring despite its unfamiliarity. <</if>>\ <<if $d11skirt is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "CheerleadingSkirt">>\ <<set $pants to 5>>\ Your fingers hover over the pleated cheerleading skirt lying on the bench. It's bold, iconic, and definitely out of your comfort zone. But something about it draws you in. Maybe it's because of its vibrant color, the way it flares out, or the way it symbolizes confident femininity. You swallow hard, picking it up slowly, the fabric feeling surprisingly soft and light against your fingertips. You step into the skirt one leg at a time, the cool material brushing against your creamy skin as you pull it up. \ <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ You give a little wiggle to make it fit as the skirt flares enticingly around your pert rear. \ <</if>>\ It fits snugly on your waist, the pleats falling neatly into place as they swish gently with your movements. You adjust the waistband slightly, smoothing it out and ensuring it fits just right. The skirt changes your silhouette, softening it, highlighting your legs and hips in a way that's new and unfamiliar. <<else>>\ <<set $pants to 4>>\ <<grantAchievement "CheerleadingShorts">>\ You pick up the pair of fitted cheer shorts from the bench. The skirt might be the iconic choice, sure, but the shorts feel like the safer option—less attention-grabbing, more manageable. The outfit seem almost out of place in your hands, a far cry from your usual attire, but there's something about them that draws your attention and urges you forward. The cool air brushes against your \ <<if $d7shave is true>>\ shaved \ <</if>>\ \ legs, the fabric gliding smoothly over your creamy thighs. The snug waistband settles just right, resting comfortably near your waist without feeling restrictive. Looking down, you adjust them slightly, the fit accentuating the lines of your legs in a way that feels both unfamiliar and surprisingly flattering. The school colors pop against your skin, giving the outfit a vibrant energy. The material clings securely but doesn't feel tight, molding to your shape. The outfit feels light, freeing, and a little daring, as if you're stepping into a role you never expected to play. As you adjust the waistband one last time, you can't help but admire it. <</if>>\ You pick up the top, running your fingers over the material. It's soft, smooth, and stretchy, designed to hug the body in all the right places. You slide it over your head, the cool material brushing against smooth skin as you pull it down. The fit is close, hugging your torso as it molds to your shape. You tuck it in, letting it frame your waist and highlighting the subtle curves you hadn't thought about before. The way the fabric clings highlights your posture, making you look different in a way you can't quite describe. A knock at the door jolts you back to reality, Jessica's voice light and playful. @@.jessica;"$name, are you coming out, or do I need to drag you out to show off?"@@ You roll your eyes, shaking off the strange mix of emotions. @@.player;"Coming!"@@ you call. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ The first option will lead to a more natural reaction, while the second one is kind of fan service. Everyone will fawn over you and call you cute. You're free to choose the second one though, I wrote it for a reason. (Not to mention the fact that I prefer the fan service variant as well.) </div>\ <<button "Nervously step out of the locker room" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 4">>\<<set $d11cute to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_bottoms_confidence" false "story">><</button>> <<button "Have some confidence! You're cute!" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 4">>\<<set $d11cute to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_bottoms_confidence" true "story">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> <<if $d11cute is true>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ As the door swings open and you step out onto the field, the cheerleaders' conversations falter. One by one, their heads turn in your direction, their eyes widening in unison as they take in the sight of you in the cheerleading uniform. \ \ <<if $d11skirt is true>>\ The pleated skirt sways gently with each step, catching the light and moving effortlessly, \ <<else>>\ The cheerleading shorts hugs your hips comfortably, flexing with each movement and catching the light as they shift effortlessly with each step, \ <</if>>\ \ while the fitted top accentuates your form in a way that makes you feel acutely aware of every glance. For a moment, no one says anything, their surprise hanging in the air. Jessica then breaks the silence with a delighted squeal, clapping her hands together. @@.jessica;"Oh my God! $name, you look so //cute//!"@@ One of the other cheerleaders leans forward with a grin. @@.girl;"No kidding! Are we sure you've never done this before? You look like you were born to wear that."@@ @@.girl;"Seriously,"@@ another chimes in. @@.girl;"You totally look like one of us. Like, if you told me you were on the squad all year, I'd believe it."@@ You feel your cheeks flush, heat rising to your face under their barrage of compliments. @@.player;"Uh... thanks?"@@ you mumble, shifting your weight from foot to foot. @@.jessica;"Alright, team, let's give $name a proper welcome!"@@ Jessica says as she steps forward, her confidence radiating as she gently grabs your hand and pulls you closer to the group. @@.jessica;"Not only does he look amazing, he's also saving our asses today."@@ @@.girl;"Thank you, seriously,"@@ a brunette says, nodding earnestly. @@.girl;"You don't know how much this means to us. We were //so// stressed about fixing the routine without Mandy, and now we actually have a shot. Not to mention you look amazing as a cheerleader!"@@ @@.jessica;"See, $name?"@@ Jessica beams, clearly loving the energy. @@.jessica;"You've got the look, the vibe, and now you're part of the squad. We really couldn't have asked for more."@@ You swallow, trying to process the whirlwind of compliments and gratitude. It's overwhelming, sure, but not in a bad way. There's something oddly affirming about the way they look at you, like you've seamlessly stepped into their world. Jessica nudges you lightly with her elbow. @@.jessica;"Alright, cutie, let's get you warmed up and show you the ropes. We're all in this together now, and trust me when I say you're going to kill it out here."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 5, 0, 100)>>\ The door swings open with a faint creak, and you step out You make your way onto the sideline, the sunlight spilling across the field and catching the colors of the uniform. \ \ <<if $d11skirt is true>>\ The pleated cheer skirt sways lightly with your movements, brushing against your legs as the fitted top hugs your frame. \ <<else>>\ The snug cheer shorts cling comfortably to your hips, moving seamlessly with your every step, while the fitted top hugs your frame. \ <</if>>\ \ For a moment, the world feels eerily quiet as all eyes turn toward you. The cheerleaders pause mid-conversation, their chatter fading into stunned silence as they take you in. A breeze ripples through the field and you feel a faint flush rise to your cheeks under their gazes. @@.jessica;"Oh my God!"@@ Jessica exclaims, the first to react. Her face lights up with a mix of excitement and admiration. @@.jessica;"You look amazing!"@@ One of the other cheerleaders lets out a low whistle, her lips curling into a grin. @@.girl;"Are you sure you've never done this before?"@@ Another girl nudges her teammate, whispering something you can't quite catch but that earns a round of soft giggles. Their expressions aren't mocking though, not at all. They're warm, surprised, and more than a little impressed. @@.jessica;"I mean, look at you!@@ Jessica steps forward, her ponytail bouncing as she gestures toward you. @@.jessica;"You look like you've been doing this forever."@@ You shift slightly, your Converses scuffing the ground as you try to process the attention. @@.player;"Uh, thanks,"@@ you mumble, glancing down at the uniform and adjusting it. <<if $d11skirt is true>>\ @@.jessica;"The skirt was definitely the right choice,"@@ Jessica grins even wider, her hands on her hips. @@.jessica;"You're seriously killing it."@@ <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"The shorts were definitely the right choice,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"A skirt might have been a bit too much."@@ <</if>>\ The rest of the squad nods in agreement, and one of the girls steps closer. @@.girl;"You look like you belong out here with us! This is going to be so much fun, thanks for doing this."@@ @@.jessica;"Alright, everyone!"@@ Jessica says, clapping her hands together. @@.jessica;"Let's get $name warmed up and run through the routine. We're about to blow this practice out of the water."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Get started" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 5">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> The energy of the field feels different now, charged with a sense of anticipation as the cheerleaders gather in a loose circle. Standing at the center of the group, Jessica radiates confidence, gesturing for everyone to come closer. The rest of the squad is already watching you with a mix of curiosity and excitement, their chatter quieter than before. You glance down at your cheerleading outfit, still getting used to the feel of the lightweight fabric and how it moves with you. Despite the initial nerves, the uniform isn't as bad as you thought—it's comfortable, almost natural. @@.jessica;"Okay, so here's the deal,"@@ Jessica says, stepping forward. She holds the clipboard like it's a microphone. @@.jessica;"We're going to start $name off with the basics—warm-ups, jumps, stunts, and maybe a short cheer. No pressure, no stress. We're just here to have fun and get him up to speed. Let's start with warm-ups!"@@ The squad forms a wide circle on the grass, their movements fluid and synchronized as they begin the warm-up routine. Jessica stands at the center, leading with a natural authority that makes following her almost effortless. @@.jessica;"Alright, stretch it out!"@@ she calls out, raising her arms above her head. @@.jessica;"Big circles—nice and slow. Let's loosen those shoulders."@@ You follow along as the cheerleaders stretch, their movements graceful yet practical. Arm circles come first, your arms sweeping in wide arcs. Jessica moves around the circle, offering pointers as she goes. @@.jessica;"Keep it controlled, $name,"@@ she says, her voice encouraging. @@.jessica;"You're already doing great, but don't rush it."@@ From there, you transition to toe touches. Jessica demonstrates, folding herself in half with perfect form, her hands brushing the ground effortlessly. @@.jessica;"Don't worry if you can't touch your toes,"@@ she says, glancing your way with a playful grin. @@.jessica;"Just reach as far as you can. Flexibility comes with practice."@@ To your surprise, you manage to touch your toes on the first try, though your hamstrings protest slightly. One of the cheerleaders nearby raises an eyebrow. @@.girl;"Wow,"@@ she says, impressed. @@.girl;"Most newbies can't do that right off the bat. Are you sure you're not secretly a gymnast or something?"@@ @@.player;"Nope,"@@ you shake your head, laughing. @@.player;"Just lucky, I guess."@@ The warm-up continues with lunges, side stretches, and hip openers. Each move is explained clearly, and you quickly pick up the rhythm of the routine. The cheerleaders are supportive, occasionally glancing your way with nods of approval. Jessica saves the splits for last, demonstrating with an effortless glide into a perfect position on the grass. The squad follows suit, each member easing into their own version of the stretch. You notice that some are more flexible than others though. @@.jessica;"Alright, $name,"@@ Jessica says, her tone light but encouraging. @@.jessica;"Let's see what you've got. Don't push too hard—just go as far as feels comfortable."@@ @@.player;"Okay, let me try,"@@ you murmur, sliding into the position. You feel a mix of tension and determination, and while you don't quite hit the full split, you're closer than you expected. @@.jessica;"Nice!"@@ Jessica says, clapping lightly. @@.jessica;"For a first-timer, that's seriously impressive. You'll be nailing these in no time!"@@ The squad finishes with a few deep breaths and gentle twists to cool down. You wonder how you should approach the final exercise in warm-ups. <<button "Push yourself" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 6">>\<<set $d11warmuppush to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Focus on precision" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 6">>\<<set $d11warmuppush to false>>\<</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> <<set $shoes to 1>>\ <<if $d11warmuppush is true>>\ <<set $cpresence to Math.clamp($cpresence + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You feel the strain in your muscles as you push through each stretch. Although it's exhausting, you feel a sense of accomplishment with every improvement. @@.jessica;"That's the kind of effort we need,"@@ Jessica says when she glances your way, giving you an approving nod. @@.jessica;"If you keep that up, you're going to be a pro in no time."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $cprecision to Math.clamp($cprecision + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You move carefully, making sure each stretch feels deliberate and balanced. @@.jessica;"Good form,"@@ Jessica says, watching with a thoughtful expression. @@.jessica;"Don't forget, precision is just as important as flexibility."@@ <</if>>\ As Jessica claps to signal the end of the warm-ups, you rise to your feet, feeling a sudden, sharp ache shoot through your arches. You wince slightly, glancing down at your shoes. Your trusty Converses, while stylish and comfortable enough for everyday wear, are clearly not designed for the demands of cheerleading. @@.jessica;"You good, $name?"@@ Jessica asks, noticing your slight hesitation immediately. She steps closer with a curious tilt of her head. @@.jessica;"Is everything alright?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, it's just..."@@ you shift your weight, grimacing. @@.player;"My feet are kind of killing me after that."@@ Jessica's gaze drops to your shoes, and her expression quickly shifts to one of amused exasperation. @@.jessica;"Oh no, Converses? $name, those are //not// going to cut it out here."@@ One of the other cheerleaders, Mia, laughs softly from nearby. @@.girl;"Yeah, those are cute and all, but you'll be limping by the end of practice if you keep wearing them."@@ Jessica spins on her heel, striding over to a storage bin near the sidelines. @@.jessica;"Luckily for you, we've got extras,"@@ she calls over her shoulder. @@.jessica;"Can't have you breaking down before we even get to the fun stuff, can we."@@ She digs through the bin with practiced efficiency, eventually pulling out a pair of white cheerleading sneakers. They're lightweight, sleek, and clearly designed for high-impact movement. She walks back over, holding them out with a grin. @@.jessica;"Here, try these on,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"They're not custom-fit or anything, but I think they should fit your feet."@@ @@.player;"Are you sure?"@@ you ask, taking the sneakers. Their clean, professional look stands in stark contrast to your scuffed Converses. @@.player;"I don't want to mess up your extras or anything."@@ @@.jessica;"Please,"@@ Jessica says, waving off your concern with a laugh. @@.jessica;"These are for emergencies, and this definitely qualifies as one. Your feet will thank you."@@ You make your way to the bleachers, taking a seat. You slip off your shoes and pull on the sneakers. They fit snugly, and the cushioned soles immediately provide relief to your aching feet. You stand up, testing them with a few careful steps, and the difference is night and day. @@.player;"These are a lot better,"@@ you say. @@.jessica;"Now you're officially one of us,"@@ Jessica says, crossing her arms and smirking. @@.jessica;"You're even complete with proper shoes!"@@ <<if $hairStyle is 0 and $hairProg > 1>>\ <<if $d7hairsister is undefined>>\ <<set $learnponytailJessica to true>>\ As you test out the new sneakers, bouncing lightly on your feet, Jessica's eyes flicker to your face, then your hair. She tilts her head, her smile turning playful. @@.jessica;"Alright, $name, you're almost there. Shoes? Check. Uniform? Check. But..."@@ she gestures toward your hair, which falls freely around your face. @@.jessica;"This needs to be tied back. Safety first. You don't want it getting in your way while you're jumping or stunting."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, that makes sense,"@@ you say, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes. @@.player;"The issue is I, uh... don't really know how to tie it up."@@ @@.jessica;"Wait, seriously?"@@ she asks, her eyes widening. @@.jessica;"You've //never// had to tie your hair before?"@@ @@.player;"Not really, no,"@@ you shrug, feeling a little sheepish. @@.jessica;"Alright, we're fixing that right this instant,"@@ Jessica says, her expression determined. @@.jessica;"You've got to know how to do this if you're going to survive cheerleading."@@ She pulls a spare hair tie from her wrist and motions for you to sit on the bench nearby. @@.player;"When did I say I was going to keep doing this?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"Okay!"@@ Jessica says loudly, ignoring what you just said. @@.jessica;"First lesson in hair tying 101. It's easy once you get the hang of it, watch me first."@@ She lets her hair loose and gathers it with both hands, her fingers moving with practiced ease as she pulls it back into a sleek ponytail. @@.jessica;"Step one: collect all your hair like this. You want it smooth, no bumps. Step two: hold it tight in one hand. Step three: loop the hair tie around it, twist, and loop again until it's secure."@@ She finishes with a flourish, flicking her ponytail for emphasis. @@.player;"Uhh,"@@ you say, a little overwhelmed by how effortless she made it look. @@.jessica;"Come on, it's not that hard,"@@ she says, laughing softly. @@.jessica;"Here, I'll talk you through it."@@ She stands behind you, gently gathering your hair. @@.jessica;"Alright, hold it like this,"@@ she says, moving your hand and placing it over the gathered strands. Her soft hands guide yours briefly, showing you how to smooth it down. @@.jessica;"Now, keep it tight and hold it in one hand."@@ You do as she says, your grip a little awkward but manageable. @@.jessica;"Good, now take the hair tie and loop it around the base of the ponytail,"@@ she instructs, handing one to you. She demonstrates the motion with her own hand. You fumble a bit, although you're unsure if you're bad at tying your hair or intimidated by Jessica's presence. But after a few tries, you manage to twist the hair tie and loop it a second time. It's not perfect, but it holds. @@.jessica;"Not bad!"@@ Jessica says, stepping back to admire your work. @@.jessica;"A little loose, but hey, for a first try? That's solid. Let me fix it for you since you'll be exercising."@@ She reaches out, tightening the ponytail with a practiced tug and smoothing down any stray strands. She smiles and crosses her arms. @@.jessica;"Now you're officially ready for cheerleading survival mode."@@ <<set $hairStyle to 1>>\ <<set $hairtie to 1>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $learnponytailJessica to false>>\ As you test out the new sneakers, Jessica's gaze shifts to your hair, and she raises an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"Alright, one last thing,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"The shoes are perfect, the uniform's on point, but you've got to tie your hair back. Can't have it flying everywhere when you're jumping."@@ You nod, already pulling a hair tie out of your pocket. @@.player;"Yeah, I got it."@@ Jessica watches with an impressed smile as you quickly gather your hair and secure it into a neat ponytail. @@.jessica;"Okay, look at you,"@@ she says, a grin on her face. @@.jessica;"Not your first rodeo, huh?"@@ @@.player;"I've done this before,"@@ you say, brushing a stray strand out of your face. Jessica laughs lightly, flicking her own ponytail over her shoulder. @@.jessica;"Nice, you're ahead of the game. Now, you're //officially// ready to cheer."@@ <<set $hairStyle to 1>>\ <<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\ <<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ \ <</if>>\ @@.girl;"Looking good, $name,"@@ Mia nods approvingly from her spot nearby. @@.girl;"Now you won't have an excuse not to keep up."@@ The squad laughs lightly, the camaraderie making the moment feel less intimidating. The cheer shoes feel like a small but significant step into this new world of femininity, and you can't help but feel \ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ excited. <<else>>\ nervous. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 7">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> With the new cheerleading shoes securely on your feet, you follow Jessica and the squad to the center of the field. The cushioning and snug fit make every step feel lighter, and the ache in your arches is already fading. You roll your ankles just to test it and appreciate the newfound stability. @@.jessica;"Alright, team!"@@ Jessica calls out, her voice cutting through the chatter. @@.jessica;"Time to tackle some jumps. $name, this is where we really see what you're made of. Jumps are the bread and butter of cheerleading, after all!"@@ She steps to the front, her posture perfect as she demonstrates the first move. @@.jessica;"We'll start with the basic toe touch. Watch closely."@@ With a swift, practiced motion, Jessica swings her arms down, jumps high into the air, and snaps her legs into a perfect V. Her toes point elegantly, and she lands softly, barely making a sound. @@.jessica;"Notice the timing, everyone,"@@ she says as she straightens. @@.jessica;"Arms lead, then legs. Keep everything tight and sharp. Now, let's see what you've got."@@ You take your place in line, heart racing slightly as the squad forms a semicircle to watch. The first cheerleader jumps, her toe touch clean and precise. Another follows, her height impressive but a little less polished. Then it's your turn. You swing your arms, jump with all your strength, and feel your legs snap into position mid-air. The motion feels surprisingly natural, almost instinctive. When you land, there's a brief pause before the squad breaks into applause. @@.jessica;"Woah!"@@ Jessica exclaims, her eyes wide with approval. @@.jessica;"$name, that was //amazing//. Your height is insane, and your form is already better than some of the people who've been doing this for years."@@ @@.girl;"Yeah, seriously,"@@ Mia adds, laughing in disbelief. @@.girl;"Did you take secret cheer lessons or something?"@@ @@.player;"Nope,"@@ you say, shaking your head. @@.player;"That was my first time."@@ @@.jessica;"Well, you've got some serious natural talent,"@@ Jessica says, grinning. @@.jessica;"Let's see if you can take it up a notch."@@ @@.player;"Up a notch..?"@@ you say under your breath. Jessica steps forward again, her expression turning thoughtful. @@.jessica;"Alright, let's try something more advanced. Everyone, we're going to be working on combo jumps. A double toe touch, if you're feeling brave."@@ The squad murmurs excitedly as Jessica demonstrates, jumping high, snapping into a toe touch, landing lightly, and immediately springing into a second jump. The move is seamless, her energy never faltering for even a moment. @@.jessica;"Now, this takes serious timing and stamina,"@@ she says, catching her breath. @@.jessica;"But if you get it right, it looks amazing. $name, you've got the height and form—want to give it a shot?"@@ All eyes are on you once again, and you feel the pressure mounting. You could stick to a single jump for now, or you could push yourself to try the combo. <<button "Attempt the double toe touch" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 8">>\<<set $d11double to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Stick to a single toe touch" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 8">>\<<set $d11double to false>>\<</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> <<if $d11double is true>>\ <<set $cpresence to Math.clamp($cpresence + 5, 0, 100)>>\ The squad gathers around, their energy palpable as Jessica steps back, giving you the floor. The grass feels firm beneath your new cheer sneakers, and the late afternoon sun seems to spotlight you as all eyes focus on your next move. @@.jessica;"Alright, $name, let's see what you've got!"@@ Jessica says, folding her arms. @@.jessica;"Don't overthink it—just let your body follow through. Arms lead, legs snap, land, and spring into the second jump. You've got the height, so I know you can nail this."@@ @@.girl;"No pressure, right?"@@ Mia leans in with a grin. You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulders to shake off the nerves. The squad's encouragement fills you with excitement and determination. You swing your arms back, plant your feet firmly, and push off with all your strength. The air feels electric as you leap upward, your arms slicing through the air. Your legs snap into a perfect V midair, your toes instinctively pointing as you reach the peak of the jump. The movement feels effortless, almost like muscle memory. The ground rushes up to meet as you land lightly, your knees bending to absorb any impact. The squad claps and cheers, but you don't stop. You're already pushing off for the second jump, after all. The momentum carries you upward again, your body moving with practiced precision even though this is your first attempt. Your arms swing in perfect sync, and your legs snap into another clean toe touch, your form as sharp as the first. As you land, the grass feels solid beneath your feet, and you straighten up, the adrenaline surging through your veins. For a moment, the field is silent as the squad processes what they've just seen. Then, the cheerleaders erupt into cheers and applause, a few of them laughing in disbelief. @@.jessica;"Okay, what just happened?"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"$name, that was insane! I was expecting good, but that was next-level."@@ @@.girl;"You're making the rest of us look bad!"@@ Mia says, stepping forward. @@.girl;"Who even lands a double toe touch that clean on their first try?"@@ @@.player;"I'm just lucky, I guess?"@@ you say, laughing nervously. Your cheeks flush red from the praise though. @@.jessica;"$name, that wasn't luck,"@@ Jessica says, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. @@.jessica;"That was raw talent. You've got the timing, the strength, and the form. Honestly, if you keep this up, you're going to be one of the best on this squad. Hell, maybe even ''the'' best. We'll see over the coming months, I suppose."@@ @@.player;"Wait, but I didn't agree to do this for a—"@@ @@.jessica;"Let's go, $name!"@@ Jessica calls over her shoulder, her tone so cheerful it's impossible to argue. One of the cheerleaders leans toward you with a smirk on her face. @@.girl;"Yeah, good luck with that. Once Jessica sets her sights on something, there's no escape."@@ You sigh as you jog to catch up with the group. Somehow, it feels like you've already been recruited, whether you agreed or not. <<else>>\ <<set $cprecision to Math.clamp($cprecision + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You take a deep breath, your heart pounding as you step into position. The squad's attention is all on you, their encouraging smiles and nods giving you a bit more confidence. Jessica stands nearby, her clipboard tucked under one arm, her eyes filled with curiosity. @@.jessica;"Alright, $name,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Let's see that toe touch again. Focus on your form—arms strong, legs sharp, toes pointed. You've got this!"@@ The squad falls silent, their anticipation palpable as they watch. You swing your arms down, gathering momentum, and in one fluid motion, you jump. Your legs snap into a clean V midair, and the movement feels almost like muscle memory already. As you land softly, the squad erupts into applause. @@.girl;"Woah, that was sharp!"@@ one of the girls says, clapping her hands. @@.girl;"Perfect execution,"@@ Mia chimes in. @@.girl;"Seriously, $name, where have you been hiding this talent?"@@ @@.jessica;"That's what I'm talking about!"@@ Jessica says, stepping forward with a wide grin. @@.jessica;"Your height was awesome, your form was clean, and your landing was smooth as butter. Honestly, you've got a gift for this. People usually take weeks to get this right."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, feeling a swell of pride at their reactions. @@.jessica;"Alright then, let's work on refining it even more,"@@ Jessica continues, gesturing for you to reset. @@.jessica;"Try to keep your toes even sharper and don't forget to keep your arms tight on the swing. These small details make a huge difference."@@ You nod, taking your place again. This time, you focus on everything Jessica pointed out. When you jump again, it feels even cleaner, and the squad's cheers only grow louder. @@.jessica;"See?"@@ Jessica says, laughing lightly. @@.jessica;"That's perfect. You're going to make the rest of us step up our game, $name."@@ The cheerleaders exchange glances, their expressions a mix of admiration and excitement. One of them, a redhead with a playful smirk, leans over to Mia. @@.girl;"We're totally stealing him, right?"@@ @@.girl;"Oh, for sure,"@@ Mia grins. @@.jessica;"Alright, team, I know we're excited, but let's keep it moving!"@@ Jessica says, snapping the group back to attention. @@.jessica;"$name, your form's already amazing, and you've got the potential to take it even further."@@ As the squad shifts back into formation, you feel a quiet sense of accomplishment. Sticking to the basics might not have been the flashiest choice, sure, but it's clear that your effort and focus haven't gone unnoticed. The squad's encouragement only fuels you as the practice continues, and you start to think that maybe—just maybe—you've found something you're really good at. <</if>>\ <<button "Move onto stunts" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 9">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> With the jumps complete, Jessica steps forward, her expression a mix of excitement and determination. @@.jessica;"Alright, team, let's move on to stunts. This is where we really bring the wow factor."@@ The cheerleaders respond enthusiastically, their energy infectious. Jessica gestures for everyone to form smaller groups, splitting the squad into stunt teams of three to five. She places you in a group with Mia and two other experienced bases, Ashley and Tori. @@.jessica;"Okay, $name, remember stunting is all about trust, balance, and strength,"@@ she begins, her tone encouraging. @@.jessica;"Everyone has a role, and today you're going to start as a base. It's the foundation of any stunt."@@ Ashley steps forward, rolling her shoulders. @@.girl;"As a base, your job is to keep the flyer stable. You'll be holding them up, so make sure your grip is firm, your legs are strong, and you work with your partner."@@ Tori nods, positioning herself next to you. @@.girl;"It's all about teamwork. You won't do it alone—everything we do is synchronized. Don't worry though, Mia's one of the best flyers we have. She'll make it easy."@@ Mia grins, her confidence radiating as she adjusts her ponytail. @@.girl;"I'll make you look good,"@@ she says, playfully, stepping forward to take her position. Jessica steps in to guide you. @@.jessica;"$name, hold out your hands like this."@@ She demonstrates the proper grip, her hands cupped and firm. @@.jessica;"You and Tori will lock your hands together to create a stable platform. Keep your elbows bent but strong, and don't let your arms wobble."@@ You follow her instructions, linking hands with Tori. The position feels solid, though the idea of lifting someone into the air still makes your heart race. @@.jessica;"Alright, bases, ready?"@@ Jessica calls out as Mia steps lightly onto the platform created by your hands. @@.girl;"Ready!"@@ Tori responds, her voice steady. <<if $confident > $shy>>\ @@.player;"Ready!"@@ you repeat. <<else>>\ @@.player;"R-Ready!"@@ you say. <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"Go!"@@ Jessica yells. You and Tori lift together, your arms bracing as Mia rises into the air. Her movements are fluid, and she balances effortlessly as you hold her steady. Your muscles strain slightly, but the adrenaline and focus make it feel easy. @@.jessica;"Great form, $name!"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"You're rock solid. Keep it up!"@@ Mia shifts her position slightly, extending one leg and holding her arms high. The squad cheers loudly, and you feel a surge of pride. When it's time to dismount, Mia calls out, @@.girl;"Coming down!"@@ You and Tori lower her gently, your movements perfectly synchronized. Mia lands lightly on her feet, spinning around to face you with a grin. @@.girl;"Not bad for a newbie,"@@ she says, giving you a high-five. Jessica steps in again, her eyes gleaming with approval. @@.jessica;"Alright, let's mix it up. $name, let's have you spotting next. It's just as important as basing. You are the safety net, after all."@@ She demonstrates the spotter's position, standing behind the flyer with her hands ready to catch if anything goes wrong. @@.jessica;"Your job is to keep Mia safe. Stay focused and watch her movements. Be ready to support if needed at all times."@@ You take your place behind Mia, your stance steady. As the bases lift her again, you keep your eyes locked on her, your hands hovering just below her back and legs. @@.jessica;"Great job!"@@ Jessica says as the stunt goes off without a hitch. @@.jessica;"You're a natural at this too."@@ As the group breaks for water, the other cheerleaders come over, their expressions a mix of admiration and excitement. @@.girl;"Seriously, $name, you're picking this all up faster than anyone I've ever seen,"@@ Ashley says, shaking her head. @@.girl;"If I hadn't known, I could've sworn you've been cheering for years."@@ @@.girl;"Tell me about it,"@@ Mia chimes in. @@.girl;"I've had bases who cheer on a college team and even they weren't this steady."@@ @@.jessica;"Honestly, if you ever want to make this permanent, you'd be a star,"@@ Jessica says. The cheerleaders nod in agreement, their encouragement making the experience feel exhilarating. You glance toward the other flyers practicing their stunts, their movements graceful and effortless as they're lifted into the air. A flicker of curiosity sparks in your mind—what would it feel like to be the one soaring above the rest? <<button "Ask about flying" "Day 11 - Cheerleading Fly">><</button>> <<button "Decide against it" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 10">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> <<set $cpresence to Math.clamp($cpresence + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for a moment before stepping closer to Jessica, curiosity getting the better of you. @@.player;"Hey, Jessica,"@@ you say, catching her attention. @@.jessica;"What's up, $name?"@@ she asks as she turns to you, her smile warm. @@.jessica;"Having fun?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, actually,"@@ you admit, feeling a little more confident now. @@.player;"I was just wondering... could I try being a flyer?"@@ The cheerleaders nearby exchange glances, a mix of surprise and amusement flashing across their faces. Mia raises an eyebrow, grinning. @@.girl;"$name as a flyer? That would be really fun to see."@@ @@.jessica;"Alright, I'll be honest—flyers are usually the smallest and lightest people on the team,"@@ Jessica says, her tone thoughtful as she looks you over. @@.jessica;"You're like 5'10, that's definitely on the taller side for that role. Flyers need to be super easy to lift and balance, which is why it's usually the shorter squad members."@@ @@.player;"Oh, yeah, I get it,"@@ you say, not entirely surprised. @@.jessica;"That being said, I'm not about to crush your dreams,"@@ Jessica adds with a playful smile. @@.jessica;"If you want to give it a shot, we can make it work. Just don't expect to take this role permanently unless you've got a shrink ray hidden somewhere."@@ Jessica claps her hands to get everyone's attention. @@.jessica;"Alright, team, we've got a special request! $name wants to try being a flyer, so let's show him what it's all about."@@ The squad cheers, clearly excited to see you take on the challenge. Jessica organizes a stunt group with Mia and Ashley as the bases and Tori as the spotter. @@.jessica;"Okay, $name, you need to have trust in your bases and spotter as a flyer,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"When you step onto the bases, keep your core tight, your movements controlled, and trust your team to hold you steady. We'll start with something simple—a basic prep stunt."@@ You take a deep breath, stepping forward as Mia and Ashley position themselves. Tori gives you a reassuring nod from behind. @@.girl;"Ready?"@@ Mia asks, her hands steady. @@.player;"Ready,"@@ you reply, your heart racing as you place your hands on their shoulders and step onto their linked hands. As Mia and Ashley lift you, the sensation of being airborne is both exhilarating and terrifying. You instinctively tighten your core, just as Jessica instructed, and focus on keeping your balance. The bases are solid beneath you, their strength and coordination making the lift feel almost effortless. @@.jessica;"Nice job!"@@ Jessica calls out, clapping. @@.jessica;"Keep your legs together and your arms up—perfect!"@@ You extend your arms, and your confidence only grows as you settle into the pose. The squad cheers, and even Tori gives you a thumbs-up from below. @@.jessica;"Alright, now let's dismount,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Bases, bring him down slowly."@@ The descent is smooth and you land lightly on the grass, a grin spreading across your face. @@.girl;"Not bad at all, $name,"@@ Mia says. @@.girl;"You've got the balance for it, that's for sure."@@ @@.jessica;"That was better than I expected for your first try, although you have only been impressing me so far,"@@ Jessica nods. @@.jessica;"But, like I said, your height makes you less ideal for this role."@@ As the team regroups to continue practice, you can't help but feel proud of yourself for trying something new. The experience of being a flyer only helps you feel more confident. <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 10">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> You approach the football field, the late afternoon sun in the air. The cheerleaders are already gathered near the sideline, stretching and chatting in small groups, their uniforms catching the sunlight as they prepare for practice. Jessica is at the center of it all, clipboard in hand, her energy magnetic as she directs her teammates. <<if $feminineLooks > 59>>\ Jessica spots you immediately, her smile widening as she waves enthusiastically. @@.jessica;"$name! You're here!"@@ Her energy draws the attention of the other cheerleaders, and as you walk over, you catch a few surprised glances. Whispers ripple through the groups, though they're quick to stifle them. Their expressions turn welcoming as Jessica steps forward to greet you. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>>\ Jessica catches sight of you, her smile widening as she waves you over. @@.jessica;"$name! Over here!"@@ A few of the cheerleaders glance up, their expressions a mix of curiosity and quiet interest. You notice one or two lingering stares as you approach, though no one says anything outright. Jessica meets you halfway, her eyes briefly sweeping over you in a way that feels both friendly and a touch appraising. <<else>>\ Jessica spots you almost immediately, her sharp eyes catching your approach. She waves you over, her ponytail swaying as she turns to face you. @@.jessica;"$name!"@@ she calls, her voice carrying easily over the field. You walk up, noticing a few cheerleaders glance your way, their expressions neutral but curious. Most of them return to stretching or chatting, clearly more focused on the practice ahead. Jessica, on the other hand, strides up to meet you, her smile as bright and confident as ever. <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"I'm glad you made it,"@@ she says, lightly tapping her clipboard against her palm. @@.jessica;"We're about to start running through the routine. Trust me when I say it's a bit of a train wreck right now. We need all the feedback we can get.@@ She gestures toward the group of cheerleaders behind her, some of whom are now adjusting their pom-poms or practicing small jumps. @@.jessica;"We're trying to make the routine work with one person down, but... well, you'll see. It's not pretty."@@ You nod, glancing at the squad as they assemble near the center of the field. Jessica steps to your side, keeping her tone casual but appreciative. @@.jessica;"Feel free to call out if you see something weird. You've got the perspective we need—no sugarcoating, alright?"@@ @@.player;"Got it,"@@ you reply, managing a small grin. @@.jessica;"Good,"@@ Jessica grins back, motioning toward a spot near the sidelines. @@.jessica;"Grab a seat over there. You'll be able to see everything, and I'll check in with you after the first run-through."@@ @@.jessica;"Alright, team!"@@ she shouts, clapping her hands. @@.jessica;"Let's take it from the top. No slacking, and keep it tight. $name's watching, so don't make us look bad."@@ There's a light ripple of laughter through the group, and you can't help but smirk as Jessica takes her place at the front. You settle onto a seat, the energy of the squad buzzing in the air as they begin their routine. Watching them move in near-perfect synchronization, you're instantly able to spot where the gaps are. Places where someone should be but isn't, moments where the flow stumbles ever so slightly. It's clear the squad is trying their hardest to make it work. The routine builds to its climax—the pyramid—but it's clear something's off. One of the bases stumbles slightly, causing the formation to wobble before they manage to bring it back together. A mix of frustration and relief floods their faces as they stop. Jessica exhales loudly, placing her hands on her hips. @@.jessica;"Not bad, but not great either,"@@ she says, turning to the group. @@.jessica;"We're still missing the balance without Mandy. If we don't figure this out by Friday, we're going to look half-baked out there."@@ <<if $feminineLooks > 59>>\ Jessica doesn't waste a second before heading straight to you. @@.jessica;"Okay, $name, spill,"@@ she says, crossing her arms. @@.jessica;"How bad was it?"@@ You offer your feedback, pointing out where the routine feels unbalanced and suggesting adjustments for the pyramid. Jessica listens closely, nodding thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"You know,"@@ she says, her eyes sparkling. @@.jessica;"You've got a knack for this. Seriously, you should think about joining us. I mean, you'd look amazing in the uniform, and we //really// need someone who can step in last-minute."@@ Her voice carries a mix of playfulness and genuine enthusiasm as she gestures toward the group. @@.jessica;"Come on, just try it for today. See how it feels. You'd be helping us out //so// much, and I promise, it's really fun."@@ The other cheerleaders exchange glances, whispering to each other. None seem opposed to the idea, if anything, they seem excited by the possibility of having you. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>>\ Jessica walks over, a spark of determination in her eyes. @@.jessica;"Alright, $name,"@@ she says, tilting her head. @@.jessica;"Be honest—what do you think?"@@ You offer your feedback as Jessica nods along. Her expression shifts though as an idea seems to strike her. @@.jessica;"You know, you've got a really good eye for this,"@@ she says, leaning in slightly her tone casual but with a teasing edge. @@.jessica;"Honestly, you'd kill it out here. Have you ever thought about, I don't know... trying it yourself?"@@ She gestures toward the team with a grin. @@.jessica;"I'm just saying, we could use someone who can keep up with this kind of stuff. You'd fit right in."@@ Her words linger and you can tell they're sincere. The other cheerleaders glance over, a few nodding in agreement. <<else>>\ Jessica walks over to you, her expression more thoughtful than usual. @@.jessica;"Okay, give it to me straight,"@@ she says, crossing her arms. @@.jessica;"What do you think? Is it as bad as it feels?"@@ You hesitate but soon begin offering your feedback. Jessica listens intently, nodding as you point out specific moments where the routine feels off. @@.jessica;"Good notes,"@@ she says, flashing you a quick smile. @@.jessica;"Thanks for watching. I'll figure something out for the pyramid."@@ She heads back to the squad, clapping her hands to rally them for another run-through. <</if>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ Jessica steps closer, her tone softening slightly. @@.jessica;"I don't mean to pressure you or anything,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"But seriously—just think about it. You'd be a lifesaver."@@ The squad waits nearby, stretching and chatting quietly. You can feel their attention drifting toward you as Jessica watches, clearly hoping you'll say yes. <<button "Join the cheerleaders" "Day 11 - Cheerleading 1">>\<<set $d11joinCheerleaders to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_join_cheerleaders" "join" "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't join the cheerleaders" "Day 11 - Watch Cheerleading">>\<<set $d11joinCheerleaders to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_join_cheerleaders" "reject" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Watch the cheerleaders do their thing" "Day 11 - Watch Cheerleading">>\<<set $d11watchedCheerleaders to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_join_cheerleaders" "watch" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d11correct is true>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at the waitress, feeling the weight of her words. Something inside you stirs—a need to clarify, to make sure you're being seen as //you//. @@.player;"Actually, I'm not a girl,"@@ you say, your tone polite but firm. The waitress freezes for a split second, her eyes widening as her smile falters ever so slightly. Then, just as quickly, she recovers, her expression turning apologetic. @@.girl;"I'm so sorry,"@@ she says, sincerity in her voice. @@.girl;"That was my mistake. I didn't mean to assume."@@ @@.jessica;"Don't worry about it,"@@ Jessica says, jumping in. @@.jessica;"$name's just special like that—keeps us all on our toes."@@ @@.girl;"Well, thanks for letting me know,"@@ the waitress says, laughing a little. @@.girl;"I'll be right back with your drinks."@@ As the waitress walks away, the table falls into a comfortable hum of conversation. Jessica leans toward you, her tone casual but supportive. @@.jessica;"That was cool of you to say something,"@@ she says quietly. @@.jessica;"It's important to speak up when you need to. We've got your back, no matter what."@@ The rest of the cheerleaders reaffirm you, and the tension from earlier begins melting away. They're not treating it as a big deal—just a part of who you are. @@.jessica;"To $name!"@@ Jessica says with a sly smile. @@.jessica;"For being the coolest, most talented, bestest ever non-girl on the squad."@@ The rest of the cheerleaders laugh, raising their glasses as well. @@.girl;"To $name!"@@ You laugh along with them, feeling a sense of belonging that's impossible to put into words. You're glad you've found a group of people that accept you exactly as you are. <<else>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You hesitate for a moment as the waitress' words settle in the air. For reasons you can't quite explain, what she said doesn't feel wrong. In fact, there's a strange, warm sense of affirmation in her assumption. You glance around the table, half-expecting the cheerleaders to say something, but none of them do. Jessica flashes the waitress a friendly grin, and the conversation flows on effortlessly, as though nothing out of the ordinary has been said. For a moment, you think about correcting her, about pointing out the obvious—that you're not actually a girl—but the words don't come. Instead, you find yourself smiling softly, the weight of the day's events melting into a quiet sense of belonging. You find yourself realizing it doesn't bother you. No, more than that—it feels good. You catch your reflection in the glossy surface of the menu, your face framed by the soft lighting of the restaurant. You realize you \ <<if $feminineLooks > 59>>\ look like a girl and that fact makes you oddly... comfortable. \ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>>\ look androgynous, but next to a group of girls, you fit right in. \ <<else>>\ cheated. Why did you cheat smh you shouldn't be here! \ <</if>>\ You think back to the way the cheerleaders had accepted you without any question, the compliments they'd thrown your way. //You're basically one of us already.// //You're one of the girls now.// Their words echo in your mind, and for the first time, you don't feel the need to push back against them. You let out a small, quiet sigh, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as the waitress takes your drink order. @@.player;"Water's fine,"@@ you say, your voice light. @@.girl;"Got it,"@@ she replies with a cheerful nod before moving on to the next person. @@.jessica;"Are you alright, $name?"@@ Jessica turns to you once the waitress steps away. @@.jessica;"You've got that look—like you're overthinking something."@@ @@.player;"No, I'm good,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"I'm just glad I came with you guys."@@ @@.girl;"Well, duh,"@@ Mia says, leaning her elbow on the table and giving you a playful smirk. @@.girl;"You're part of the squad, we wouldn't leave you behind."@@ Ashley nods. @@.girl;"To $name, our star rookie!"@@ You laugh again, a genuine warmth bubbling up inside you as the others join in, their cheers and encouragement wrapping around you like a safety net. <<else>>\ You glance around the table as the waitress moves on, chatting brightly with the other cheerleaders as she takes their drink orders. Jessica throws you a knowing smile, but she doesn't say anything about the comment. The squad seems perfectly at ease, their laughter and banter continuing without missing a beat. You shift in your seat, deciding it's better to just go along with it for now. The waitress obviously meant no harm, and the way the cheerleaders have treated you all day—like you're one of them—makes the moment feel less awkward than you thought it would. @@.girl;"So, what do you think of your first cheerleading dinner so far?"@@ Mia says, turning back to you once the waitress walks away. @@.girl;"A little different from what you usually do, right?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, it's definitely different,"@@ you laugh lightly, relaxing into the booth. @@.player;"You all make it fun, though."@@ @@.jessica;"This is just as much a part of the cheerleading experience as the routines, after all,"@@ Jessica says, grinning. @@.jessica;"Bonding over some food is tradition."@@ @@.girl;"Honestly, it's cool how you just jumped into all this today,"@@ Tori says, her expression softening. @@.girl;"Most people would've been super nervous, but you handled it like a pro."@@ You feel a small swell of pride as the cheerleaders continue to bombard you with thanks and compliments. Even if you're not too sure how you feel about being grouped with “the girls,” their easy camaraderie makes it hard to feel out of place. The waitress returns shortly with a tray of drinks, setting them down in front of everyone with a cheerful smile. @@.girl;"Here you go, ladies!"@@ Again, you feel a brief moment of discomfort, but no one else seems to notice. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - Dinner 2">><</button>>

The waitress returns after a few minutes, balancing trays of food with practiced ease. She sets a plate in front of you with your order—a burger stacked high with toppings, accompanied by a generous pile of crispy fries. You breathe in the savory scent of freshly grilled beef and melted cheese, your stomach rumbling. <<if $d11correct is true>>\ @@.girl;"I hope you all enjoy!"@@ the waitress says cheerfully. <<else>>\ @@.girl;"Enjoy, girls!"@@ the waitress says cheerfully before bustling off to tend to another table. <</if>>\ You glance at the burger in front of you, its glossy bun glistening under the warm light. The french fries are golden and perfectly crisp, a tempting sidekick to the main event. As the others dig into their meals, you pick up the burger, the soft bun yielding immediately under your fingers. The first bite is perfection—a juicy explosion of flavor. @@.girl;"It's good, right?"@@ Mia asks from beside you, holding a nacho like a cigarette. @@.girl;"This place has the best burgers in town, hands down."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, it's amazing,"@@ you nod. @@.player;"I didn't realize I was this hungry."@@ @@.jessica;"Cheerleading burns a ton of calories,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Get used to being starving after every practice."@@ @@.girl;"She's not kidding,"@@ Ashley chimes in, balancing a fry on her fork. @@.girl;"One game day, I ate two of these burgers after the game. It didn't even fill me up, I was still hungry."@@ The table laughs as you take another bite, savoring the rich flavors and the simple joy that comes with sharing a meal with new friends. You find yourself relaxing more as you get further into the meal, even chiming in with a few comments and laughing at the squad's stories. Jessica teases Mia about her nacho obsession, Ashley recounts a time she tripped during a halftime routine, and Tori insists she didn't see the school mascot coming when she ran into it mid-cheer. You join in the laughter, the day's events replaying in your mind. All of it felt surreal, yet completely natural at the same time. Silverware clink softly against the plates and the warm smell of grilled food lingers in the air. Jessica, who finished her food faster than anyone else, wipes her hand on a napkin and stretches her arms over her head. @@.jessica;"Alright, I'm going to head outside for a breather,"@@ she says, sliding out of the booth. @@.jessica;"Too much food, too much energy—I need a minute to decompress."@@ @@.girl;"Jessica's decompressing?"@@ Mia asks, a grin on her face. @@.girl;"That's a first."@@ Jessica laughs, tossing a glare at Mia. @@.jessica;"Watch it, Mia. You're lucky I'm too full to think of a comeback."@@ As she heads toward the door, her ponytail swaying behind her, you glance after her. There's a flicker of curiosity—maybe there's more to Jessica than you think. <<button "Follow Jessica outside" "Day 11 - Dinner 3 (Jessica)">>\<<set $d11followjessica to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_dinner_follow_jessica" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Stay in the restaurant" "Day 11 - Dinner 3 (Group)">>\<<set $d11followjessica to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_dinner_follow_jessica" false "story">><</button>>

<<set $csquadbond to Math.clamp($csquadbond + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You watch as Jessica slips out the door, the bell above it jingling faintly before the sound fades. For a moment, you consider following her, but the warm laughter at the table pulls your focus back to the group. Mia is in the middle of recounting an especially chaotic moment from last year's Homecoming routine. @@.girl;"—and then the banner ripped right in the middle of the run-through,"@@ Mia says, gesturing wildly with her hands. @@.girl;"Jessica just stared at it for, like, a second before she yelled, 'We're rolling with it, go!' and we had to do the whole routine around this shredded piece of fabric."@@ Ashley groans, laughing as she takes a sip of her drink. @@.girl;"I was in the pyramid and thought the banner was going to fall on us. I swear, that was the scariest halftime show of my life so far."@@ @@.girl;"Well, it worked out though, no?"@@ Tori chimes in, her smile wide. @@.girl;"The crowd thought it was planned and they went nuts when we pretended to rip the rest of it at the end."@@ @@.girl;"You're lucky you joined us this year,"@@ Mia says, leaning closer to you. @@.girl;"No torn banners—so far at least. But you're already doing better than most of the squad was when we started."@@ @@.girl;"That's true!"@@ Ashley adds. @@.girl;"You're a natural, $name. Even when we had people trying out, no one picked things up as fast as you."@@ @@.girl;"Not to mention he's just got the vibe,"@@ Tori says. @@.girl;"Like, you just //get// it, you know? Like, it's not just about stunts and cheers. It's about owning it."@@ As the meal continues, the cheerleaders begin swapping more personal stories—favorite memories from past games, embarrassing moments at school, and plans for the upcoming weekend. @@.girl;"Ready for tomorrow, $name?"@@ Mia asks, her voice lowering conspiratorially. @@.girl;"Football games are a massive deal for us. The crowd, the lights, the pressure—it's like nothing else."@@ @@.player;"I don't know, I think I can handle it,"@@ you say, trying your best to sound confident. @@.girl;"You totally can,"@@ Ashley says with a smile. @@.girl;"Just remember to have fun and stick with Jessica. She always has a way of keeping everyone calm."@@ The mention of Jessica makes you glance toward the door briefly, but the conversation quickly pulls you back in. You wonder if you should share a story of your own. <<button "Open up and share" "Day 11 - Dinner 4 (Group)">>\<<set $d11openup to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_dinner_group_open_up" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Stay light and observant" "Day 11 - Dinner 4 (Group)">>\<<set $d11openup to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_dinner_group_open_up" false "story">><</button>>

<<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaDinerCG to true>>\ <<include "CG_JessicaDiner">>\ You slide out of the booth, your feet carrying you toward the door before you fully register your decision. The restaurant door closes behind you with a soft jingle, cutting off the warmth and noise inside. The cool night air greets you, carrying with it the faint smell of pavement and nearby trees. You spot Jessica leaning against a low brick wall by the parking lot, her arms crossed loosely and her head tilted back as she looks up at the sky. You hesitate, unsure if you should interrupt her. The Jessica you've seen all day—bright, confident, larger than life—feels distant now. It's like she's been replaced by someone quieter. Still, something about the way her shoulders are slightly hunched makes you take a step closer. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say softly. Jessica glances over, a flicker of surprise in her eyes before she smiles faintly. @@.jessica;"Hey, $name,"@@ she says. Her tone is light, but there's an edge of tiredness beneath it, like she's trying to mask something more. @@.jessica;"What are you doing out here? The squad not entertaining enough for you?"@@ @@.player;"No, they're great,"@@ you reply, leaning against the wall beside her. @@.player;"Just thought I'd check on you. You looked like you needed a breather."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, I guess I did,"@@ Jessica lets out a soft laugh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. @@.jessica;"It's nice to get some quiet sometimes, you know?"@@ You nod, waiting to see if she'll say more. She does, though her words come slower, more measured. @@.jessica;"I love leading the squad, I really do,"@@ she begins, her gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. @@.jessica;"It's the best part of my week—getting everyone pumped up, working on routines, feeling like we're a team. But sometimes it feels like there's a lot riding on it."@@ You glance at her, her profile lit softly by the glow of the streetlights. There's something in her expression—a subtle tension, like she's weighing her words carefully. @@.jessica;"Everyone expects me to have the answers,"@@ she continues, her voice steady but quieter now. @@.jessica;"Like I'm supposed to be the one who keeps everything together no matter what. Don't get me wrong—I love that they trust me. But... it's a lot sometimes."@@ She pauses, her fingers trailing absently along the edge of the wall. @@.jessica;"I guess I just worry about letting them down,"@@ she says, her words barely more than a whisper. @@.jessica;"Not just with cheer stuff, but... everything else. Like, they see me as someone I'm not always sure I can be."@@ Her eyes flick to yours for a moment before she quickly looks away, the vulnerability in her gaze disappearing as soon as it appeared. She laughs lightly, as if trying to brush it off. @@.jessica;"Sorry, that got kind of heavy. You probably didn't come out here just to listen to me ramble on about my problems."@@ @@.player;"You're not rambling,"@@ you say gently. @@.player;"I think everyone needs a break sometimes, even you."@@ Jessica smiles faintly, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. @@.jessica;"Yeah. Maybe."@@ The silence stretches between you, not uncomfortable but rather heavy with unspoken thoughts. Jessica looks back up at the sky, her expression unreadable, and you wonder what else she's holding back. <<button "Inch closer" "Day 11 - Dinner 4 (Jessica)">>\<<set $d11inchcloser to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_dinner_close_with_jessica" true "rel">><</button>> <<button "Stay a little far" "Day 11 - Dinner 4 (Jessica)">>\<<set $d11inchcloser to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_dinner_close_with_jessica" false "rel">><</button>>

<<if $d11openup is true>>\ <<set $csquadbond to Math.clamp($csquadbond + 5, 0, 100)>>\ The laughter around the table continues, light and infectious, as the squad eagerly shares their stories. You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should jump in. But then, something pushes you forward, and before you know it, you're speaking up. @@.player;"Okay, okay,"@@ you say, raising your hands slightly to grab their attention. @@.player;"I've got a story, but it's completely stupid, so don't judge me."@@ @@.girl;"Oh, I've got to hear this,"@@ Mia says, her eyes sparkling in anticipation. @@.girl;"Spill it, $name."@@ @@.player;"Alright, so, this took place last summer,"@@ you say, already holding in your laughter. @@.player;"My friend, Luke, yes //that// Luke, thought it'd be funny to try and ride his bike through a car wash."@@ The table erupts in a mix of gasps and laughter, and Tori nearly spits out her drink. @@.girl;"Wait, what?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, grinning now. @@.player;"He was like, 'It's just water, bro, how bad could it possibly be?' I was just standing there recording because, you know, I have my priorities straight."@@ @@.girl;"Please tell me he actually went through with it,"@@ Ashley says. @@.player;"Oh, he did,"@@ you reply, nodding emphatically. @@.player;"He rolls in all confident. It was actually working too, until the spinning brushes kicked in. First, he was like 'I'm fine!' Then the brush thing knocks him off the fucking bike. He's lying on the ground, soaking wet, and still yelling that he's alright while getting sprayed."@@ @@.player;"It gets worse, it gets worse,"@@ you add, as the entire team howls with laughter. @@.player;"The guy who owns the car wash comes out, sees Luke lying there, and just shakes his head. He does not care in the slightest. He just mutters, 'Kids these days,' and walks back inside."@@ Ashley is doubled over, gasping for air. @@.girl;"Help, I can't. Luke is a legend! Please tell me you have the video."@@ @@.player;"Sadly, no,"@@ you say, shaking your head. @@.player;"My phone got wet in the chaos. But the memory? Priceless."@@ Mia wipes her eyes, still giggling. @@.girl;"$name, that is one of the dumbest things I've ever heard, and I love it. I've always liked Luke, but this just cements his status as an icon."@@ @@.girl;"An icon of bad decisions, maybe,"@@ Tori adds, grinning. @@.player;"Pretty much,"@@ you agree. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ I am fully, fully aware that this story isn't that funny. It's just the best I could think of. Not to mention everything is much funnier when you're surrounded by friends. </div>\ <<else>>\ You lean back slightly in your seat, the warm buzz of the cheerleaders' laughter filling the air around you. It's easy to lose yourself in their stories, their animated gestures and vivid expressions painting pictures of the hilarious and chaotic moments they've shared. You find yourself smiling and nodding along, throwing in the occasional laugh at just the right moment. @@.girl;"—and then Jessica yelled, 'Just keep smiling!' while the banner was literally eating us alive,"@@ Mia exclaims, nearly doubling over with laughter. @@.girl;"I was still pulling pieces of it out of my hair after halftime,"@@ Ashley adds, grinning. @@.girl;"I think it even made it into some of the photos!"@@ @@.girl;"Classic Jessica,"@@ Tori adds, twirling a fry between her fingers. @@.girl;"Somehow, she makes even a disaster look intentional."@@ You chuckle slightly, letting the rhythm of their banter flow naturally. While their energy is infectious, you're content to stay in the background, soaking it all in. @@.girl;"$name, what's your favorite part of today so far?"@@ Mia asks as she nudges your arm lightly. @@.girl;"Was it the routine? The stunts?"@@ @@.player;"Honestly, it was just seeing how you all work together,"@@ you respond, your smile easily. @@.player;"It's like... controlled chaos, but it works. You've got this energy that's fun to be around."@@ Mia grins, clearly pleased with your answer. @@.girl;"We are pretty cool, aren't we?"@@ @@.girl;"Hell yeah, we are!"@@ Ashley says. @@.girl;"We're //legendary//."@@ The cheerleaders continue, and you find yourself enjoying the way their stories unfold, each one building off the last. They talk about moments with the mascot, the thrill of nailing a difficult routine, and even the occasional prank pulled on rival squads. As they chatter, you stay tuned in, offering a comment or reaction here and there. You may not be the loudest voice at the table, but your quiet presence doesn't go unnoticed. Every now and then, one of the cheerleaders glances your way, their smiles warm and genuine. <</if>>\ By the time the food is nearly gone, you feel even more comfortable than before. You're glad you stayed in the restaurant and got to connect with all the \ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ other \ <</if>>\ girls, but you do wonder what Jessica was up to the entire time. <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - Dinner 5">><</button>>

<<if $d11inchcloser is true>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>> <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You shift slightly, stepping closer so the distance between you and Jessica feels less like two people on separate paths and more like two people sharing the same moment. Your shoulder almost brushes hers as you lean gently against the wall, the cool surface grounding you. @@.player;"You know, you don't have to figure everything out by yourself,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"It's okay to just... be you. Even if that doesn't match what people expect."@@ Jessica glances at you, her eyes flickering with something unreadable before she lets out a quiet laugh. @@.jessica;"Be myself, huh? That's easier said than done."@@ @@.player;"Maybe it is,"@@ you reply, tilting your head slightly to meet her gaze. @@.player;"But I think you're already doing it more than you realize. The squad looks up to you because you care about them, Jessica, not because you're perfect."@@ Jessica looks away, her lips curving into a faint smile. @@.jessica;"You're good at this, you know that? Saying exactly what someone needs to hear."@@ @@.player;"I'm just being honest,"@@ you say, the sincerity in your voice catching her attention again. For a moment, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the night wrapping around you like a cocoon. The distant hum of traffic, the occasional laugh from inside the restaurant—it all fades into the background. Jessica's presence feels different now, quieter but somehow closer. @@.jessica;"You know, I didn't expect you to fit in with us so fast,"@@ she says after a beat, her voice softer now. @@.jessica;"It's... nice, though. Having you around. I don't know what I would have done today if you didn't volunteer to help us out. I really don't."@@ Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, her eyes linger on yours. There's something unspoken in her expression, a vulnerability she's not quite ready to put into words, but it's there—an almost imperceptible shift that feels like a bridge between the two of you. @@.jessica;"Thanks for coming out here,"@@ she says, her voice barely above a whisper. @@.jessica;"I didn't realize how much I needed to hear that."@@ @@.player;"Anytime,"@@ you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. Jessica's smile widens just a little, and she nudges your shoulder lightly with hers, the gesture almost playful but with a quiet tenderness beneath it. @@.jessica;"Alright,"@@ she says, straightening up and brushing her hands off. @@.jessica;"We should probably head back in before the others start wondering if we've run off to join the circus or something."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, we really should,"@@ you agree, though neither of you moves right away. As Jessica turns to walk back toward the restaurant, her pace slower than before, there's a quiet shift in the air. It's nothing you can name outright, but something about the moment feels... different—like a thread pulled taut, unnoticed until now. <<else>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You lean against the wall, just a step or two away, keeping enough distance to give her space. The quiet night air hangs between you, filled with only the faint hum of passing cars and the occasional laugh from someone inside the restaurant. Jessica doesn't look at you immediately, her gaze still fixed somewhere beyond the horizon. @@.player;"It's okay to not have all the answers,"@@ you say, your voice steady but soft. @@.player;"You don't have to be perfect all the time."@@ Jessica's lips twitch into a faint smile, though her eyes remain distant. @@.jessica;"Yeah, easier said than done,"@@ she murmurs. @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"But no one's expecting you to do everything on your own. Not really. And even if they are, it doesn't mean you have to."@@ She lets out a quiet laugh, though it lacks her usual energy. @@.jessica;"You make it sound so simple. Just... decide to let go of it all, right?"@@ @@.player;"Not all of it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But maybe some of it. Enough to remind yourself that it's okay to just be... human. People look up to you because they trust you, not because they think you're invincible."@@ Jessica finally turns to face you, her blue eyes searching yours. For a moment, she looks like she wants to say something more, but instead, she nods. @@.jessica;"Thanks, $name. You've got a weird way of making sense."@@ @@.player;"I try,"@@ you say, chuckling lightly. The silence returns, but it's lighter now, the weight of her earlier words easing slightly. Jessica crosses her arms, glancing back toward the restaurant. @@.jessica;"You know, sometimes it feels like... if I let even a little bit slip, the whole thing might come crashing down,"@@ she says, her voice thoughtful. @@.jessica;"Like I have to hold it all together or it won't work."@@ @@.player;"You don't have to hold everything together, that's the thing,"@@ you say, your tone steady. @@.player;"That's what a team is for, right? You're not doing this alone."@@ Jessica exhales slowly, nodding. @@.jessica;"Yeah. You're right. I guess I just forget that sometimes."@@ She straightens up, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeves. @@.jessica;"Alright, I think I'm good now. We should probably head back in before Mia eats all the fries."@@ You laugh, pushing off the wall. @@.player;"That sounds about right."@@ As the two of you walk back toward the restaurant, Jessica's step seems a little lighter, and though she hasn't said much, you can tell the moment meant something to her. She glances at you briefly, a small but genuine smile on her lips. @@.jessica;"Thanks for coming out, $name,"@@ she says quietly. @@.jessica;"I didn't realize I needed that."@@ @@.player;"Anytime,"@@ you reply. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - Dinner 5">><</button>>

The table quiets down as plates are cleared and drinks are drained, the earlier energy settling into a comfortable hum. The waitress swings by to drop off the check, and Jessica takes charge, expertly dividing it among the group. As Jessica finishes dividing the check among the group, you reach into your pocket, pulling out your phone. @@.player;"Hey, let me chip in,"@@ you say, glancing around at the others. @@.player;"It's the least I can do after crashing your dinner."@@ Before your phone even turns on, Mia waves her hands dramatically, shaking her head. @@.girl;"Oh, no way. You're practically doing us a favor by being here. You're //not// paying."@@ @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ Ashley adds, leaning back in her chair with a grin. @@.girl;"You're helping save the routine for tomorrow. That's worth way more than a burger and some fries."@@ Jessica smirks, placing her hand lightly on top of your phone to stop you. @@.jessica;"$name, consider this our way of saying thanks. You've already done more than enough just by showing up today."@@ You hesitate, glancing from face to face, but their expressions are unanimous—there's no way they're letting you pay. @@.girl;"Seriously,"@@ Tori chimes in. @@.girl;"You're part of the squad now, and squad members don't pay on their first post-practice dinner. It's tradition."@@ @@.player;"Is it really?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"Well, it is now,"@@ Jessica says, her tone playful but firm. @@.jessica;"So put that phone away and just enjoy it, alright?"@@ You laugh, sliding your phone back into your pocket. \ <<if $money < 16>>\ You're too ashamed to even mention that you actually didn't have enough money to pay for your order anyway. \ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Alright, alright. Thanks, everyone."@@ @@.girl;"Don't mention it,"@@ Mia says with a wink. @@.girl;"Just promise you'll kill it tomorrow, and we'll call it even."@@ @@.jessica;"Alright,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Everyone good? No excuses tomorrow—we're all showing up ready to crush it at the game."@@ A chorus of agreement ripples through the squad. @@.girl;"You're just saying that because you already know the routine inside and out,"@@ Mia teases. @@.jessica;"And because I have to look out for all of you,"@@ Jessica replies with a wink. @@.jessica;"Can't let us go out there looking anything less than perfect."@@ Mia rolls her eyes dramatically, but her smile gives her away. As everyone gathers their things and begins filling out of the restaurant, Jessica claps her hands lightly to get the squad's attention. @@.jessica;"Remember, tomorrow's the big day!"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Get some rest, stay hydrated, and bring all the energy you've got. It's going to be so worth it."@@ Mia leans over to you as the group heads for the door, her voice teasing. @@.girl;"You ready for your first game-day experience? It's gonna be wild."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I think so,"@@ you reply, a mix of nerves and anticipation bubbling in your chest. @@.player;"I //hope// so."@@ @@.girl;"You'll be great,"@@ she says with a grin, nudging your arm lightly before skipping ahead to join the others. The night air greets you as you step outside, the cool breeze refreshing after the warmth of the restaurant. The squad lingers for a moment in the parking lot, saying their goodbyes and joking about who's going to forget their outfit tomorrow. As the cheerleaders drift off to their cars or begin walking home, their laughter still echoing in the air, you're left with a quiet sense of belonging. The evening has cemented something undeniable: you're part of the team now. <<button "Go Home" "Day 11 - 8">><</button>>

<<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $csquadbond to Math.clamp($csquadbond + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $top to $d11top>>\ <<set $pants to $d11pants>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ <<if $bindoption is true>>\ <<set $bind to true>>\ <</if>> As you head off the field with the squad, having changed back to your normal clothes, the sound of their laughter and chatter fills the air. Jessica walks beside you, her smile bright as she talks about the game tomorrow. @@.jessica;"You're going to love it,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Game day energy is like nothing else. And with you on the squad? It's going to be amazing."@@ After a bit of walking, the cheer squad piles into a cozy, casual restaurant on the edge of town. It's the kind of place with warm lighting, colorful booths, and the faint smell of sizzling burgers and fries lingering in the air. The lively chatter of other patrons mingles with the squad's laughter as Jessica leads the way, effortlessly securing a large booth in the corner. @@.jessica;"Alright, everyone, squeeze in,"@@ she says, gesturing for the group to settle. The booth is just big enough for all of you, although you have to pull up a few chairs on the sides to make room. You find yourself sandwiched between Mia and Jessica, their energy buzzing from practice. The conversation is easy and light, the kind of chatter that makes you feel like you've been part of this group forever. They talk about everything—school drama, favorite foods, and their favorite memories from past games. @@.girl;"So, $name,"@@ Mia says, glancing at you with a curious smile. @@.girl;"Be honest with us. Did you ever think you'd end up in a cheerleading uniform?"@@ You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"Honestly? Not in a million years."@@ @@.girl;"Well, you're pulling it off!"@@ Ashley says. @@.girl;"Seriously, you didn't look out of place at all today."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, it was like you were meant to do this,"@@ Jessica adds. @@.jessica;"I mean, you basically crushed every drill on your first try."@@ @@.girl;"Don't let it get to your head though,"@@ Tori says, a smirk on her face. @@.girl;"We'll still make you run laps if you start slacking."@@ The group laughs, and you feel yourself relaxing more. Despite the teasing, their camaraderie is warm. Just as the conversation starts to shift to the upcoming football game, a cheerful waitress arrives at the table, her notepad in hand. She looks around at the group, her gaze sweeping over everyone. @@.girl;"Well, aren't you girls just the cutest,"@@ she says, her tone playful. @@.girl;"Cheerleaders, right? You've got that squad vibe for sure."@@ You freeze for a moment, feeling the words hang in the air. The cheerleaders all glance at your briefly, their smiles still in place, but none of them correct her. Instead, Jessica smoothly changes the subject. @@.jessica;"Yeah, that's us,"@@ she says quickly. @@.jessica;"We just finished practice and figured we'd treat ourselves."@@ @@.girl;"Oh yeah, you all definitely deserve it!"@@ the waitress nods enthusiastically. @@.girl;"Alright, let's get you all started with drinks."@@ As she takes the others' drink orders, your thoughts swirl. You know the waitress' comment wasn't malicious, not at all, but it still leaves you at a crossroads. <<button "Correct her and say you're not a girl" "Day 11 - Dinner 1">>\<<set $d11correct to true>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_dinner_correct_gender" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Quietly accept it" "Day 11 - Dinner 1">>\<<set $d11correct to false>>\<<trackChoice "D11_cheer_dinner_correct_gender" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<if $d11lilyopen is true>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You sigh, running a hand through your hair as you lean back in your chair. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm fine. But it's been... a lot. New people, new clubs, trying to figure out where I fit in. I don't know—it's just different this year."@@ @@.lily;"What, like you're worried about making friends or something?"@@ Lily asks, tilting her head slightly. @@.lily;"I don't think you're bad at socializing."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, but it's not really that,"@@ you say, laughing slightly. @@.player;"It's more like I don't even know where I'm supposed to fit. Everyone seems to know who they are and what they're doing, and I just... don't."@@ @@.lily;"So, what's the big deal?"@@ Lily asks. @@.lily;"Nobody actually knows what they're doing. They just act like they do. You're probably doing better than half of them already."@@ Her words are blunt, but there's a sincerity behind them that catches you off guard. @@.player;"Maybe you're right,"@@ you say with a faint smile. @@.player;"Its just... hard sometimes, you know?"@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, I get it,"@@ Lily says, clearly not quite getting it. @@.lily;"But you're not that lame of an older brother, so I think you'll figure it out. And if you don't, I'll just make fun of you until you do."@@ @@.player;"Wow, thanks Lily,"@@ you say, rolling your eyes. @@.player;"You're a real inspiration."@@ @@.lily;"Obviously,"@@ she says, standing up and heading toward the door. @@.lily;"Anyway, don't stress too much."@@ She pauses at the door, looking back with a small smile before disappearing down the hallway. <<else>>\ You shrug, leaning back in your chair. @@.player;"I'm fine, Lily. Just adjusting to everything. Nothing to worry about."@@ Lily narrows her eyes, her skeptical expression making it clear she's not convinced. @@.lily;"Sure, I bet everything's just peachy,"@@ she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. @@.player;"Seriously,"@@ you say, offering a small smile to soften your response. @@.player;"It's just school stuff. Nothing earth-shattering."@@ She watches you for a moment longer, then leans back on the bed with a dramatic sigh. @@.lily;"Fine. Be mysterious. But if you start acting any weirder, I'm going to get involved."@@ @@.player;"I know, I'd expect nothing less,"@@ you reply, chuckling softly. @@.lily;"Alright, well, have fun with your super normal school life,"@@ Lily says, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She heads for the door but pauses just before stepping out. @@.lily;"Good night. You've got this, or whatever."@@ The door clicks shut behind her, leaving the room quiet again. The faintest hint of a smile tugs at your lips though. You and Lily don't always have the best relationship, but moments like this remind you that she's always in your corner. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - 10">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<if $d11cheerleadingLily is true>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You sigh, leaning back in your chair, realizing there's no point in trying to dodge her questions. Lily has a way of digging in when she's curious, and she already knows enough about your situation to guess when something's up. @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you begin, glancing at her. @@.player;"I spent the afternoon... practicing with the cheerleading squad."@@ Lily raises an eyebrow. @@.lily;"Wait, cheerleaders?"@@ she asks. @@.lily;"Like //actual// cheerleaders? Jessica's squad?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, running a hand through your hair. @@.player;"They needed someone to help fill in for practice, and I ended up being that someone."@@ She sits up straighter on your bed, her curiosity piqued. @@.lily;"Okay, that's not what I expected to hear. What happened? Did they just, like, grab you out of the hallway or something?"@@ @@.player;"Not exactly,"@@ you say, hesitating. @@.player;"Jessica asked me during homeroom. They're missing a cheerleader for the game tomorrow, and she thought I could help out."@@ @@.lily;"And you said yes? Did you like it?"@@ @@.player;"It was actually kind of fun,"@@ you say slowly, the words even surprising yourself. The memory of the squad's acceptance and energy is still fresh in your mind. @@.player;"They were all really nice and treated me like I belonged. It was... weird, but also kind of great."@@ Lily nods, her expression thoughtful. @@.lily;"And tomorrow? Are you actually going to cheer at the game?"@@ You let out a small laugh, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you. @@.player;"I guess I am."@@ @@.lily;"Wow,"@@ she says, leaning back against the wall. @@.lily;"Well, you'll crush it. You've got the whole squad backing you up, right?"@@ Her words sink in, and for a moment, you feel a flicker of confidence. @@.player;"You're right."@@ Lily grins, her fiery spirit returning. @@.lily;"So, what's the uniform like? Please tell me you wore a skirt."@@ <<if $d11skirt is true>>\ You hesitate, scratching the back of your neck. @@.player;"Uh... yeah, you're right."@@ The room goes silent for a beat before Lily bursts out laughing, clutching her stomach as she doubles over on your bed. @@.lily;"A //skirt//?! This is too good. $name, this is the best thing I've ever heard in my entire life!"@@ @@.player;"Lily,"@@ you groan, but she's already rolling on your bed, her laughter echoing through the room. @@.lily;"I need pictures,"@@ she gasps between giggles. @@.lily;"Please tell me someone took pictures."@@ @@.player;"Nobody took pictures,"@@ you mutter, the heat rising to your face betraying your embarrassment. Lily finally sits up, wiping tears from her eyes. @@.lily;"I'm sorry, but I can't get over it. My big brother out there rocking a cheerleading skirt."@@ You sigh, shaking your head, though you can't entirely suppress your own sheepish smile. @@.lily;"But honestly?"@@ she says, her tone softening. @@.lily;"That's pretty brave of you. I mean, stepping out like that and owning it."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Lily,"@@ you say quietly. @@.lily;"Anytime,"@@ she replies, standing up and stretching. @@.lily;"But seriously, if I find out someone took pictures, I'm framing them."@@ @@.player;"Lily!"@@ <<else>>\ You shrug, leaning back in your chair. @@.player;"They had me in shorts, don't worry. It wasn't as weird as it could've been."@@ Lily raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. @@.lily;"Shorts, huh? Alright, I can see that. It's still weird but better than the alternative."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, chuckling lightly. @@.player;"It felt a little weird at first, but honestly? By the end of practice, I wasn't even thinking about it."@@ She nods, her teasing softened by genuine curiosity. @@.lily;"Well, as long as you didn't totally hate it. But still—cheerleading. Never thought I'd see the day."@@ @@.player;"I didn't either."@@ <</if>>\ @@.lily;"For what it's worth though, I think this whole cheerleading thing might be good for you,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"It sounds like it made you happy today, and that's what matters."@@ Her words catch you off guard, and you can only nod, unsure how to respond. @@.lily;"Goodnight, $name,"@@ she says with a grin before disappearing down the hall. As you sit alone in your room, her words linger. Tomorrow will be a challenge, but you allow yourself to feel hope for now. <<else>>\ @@.player;"It's just been a long day,"@@ you say vaguely, avoiding her gaze. As supportive as your sister has been, the idea of telling her about the cheerleading practice feels... complicated. @@.player;"Nothing special."@@ Lily raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. @@.lily;"Uh-huh. Sure. Because that totally explains why you look all... like this."@@ She gestures vaguely at you, her hand waving in the air as if to encompass your entire being. @@.player;"Like what?"@@ you ask, narrowing your eyes. @@.lily;"Like... I don't know,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Different, I guess. You look softer or something. Not in a bad way! Just... different."@@ You shrug, trying to brush it off. @@.player;"It's probably just the $referto doing its thing. Nothing new there."@@ Lily tilts her head, studying you with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. @@.lily;"Sure, whatever you say."@@ She pauses, then smirks. @@.lily;"You're really not going to tell me what's up, are you?"@@ @@.player;"There's nothing to tell,"@@ you reply firmly. She stares at you for a moment longer before letting out an exaggerated sigh and flopping back onto the bed dramatically. @@.lily;"Fine. Keep your secrets. But just so you know, you're terrible at lying."@@ @@.player;"I'm not lying,"@@ you insist. @@.lily;"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure it's juicy, and I'll figure it out eventually."@@ Lily grins and hops off the bed. She heads toward the door\ <<if $lilyRelo > 34>>\ , but pauses just before stepping out, glancing back at you with a softer expression. @@.lily;"Hey, $name?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ @@.lily;"Even if you're being all secretive, just... remember I'm here, okay?"@@ The genuine care in her tone catches you off guard. @@.player;"Thanks, Lily,"@@ you say quietly, giving her a quiet smile. She shrugs, her grin returning as she gives you a thumbs-up. She steps out of your room, closing the door behind her as she disappears down the hall. <<else>>\ and steps out, closing it behind her. <</if>>\ Left in the quiet, you reflect on Lily's words. Despite her teasing, you're glad to have Lily on your side. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - 10">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<if $d11tellLily is true>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You take a deep breath, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back at Lily. Her fiery gaze softens just slightly, but her arms remain crossed, her stance unyielding. There's no dodging this. Not with her. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say quietly, the weight of the admission settling over you. @@.player;"I'll tell you, but it's... complicated."@@ Lily raises an eyebrow, her sharp expression now tinged with curiosity. @@.lily;"Complicated how?"@@ You gesture for her to sit on the bed. She hesitates but eventually drops onto the edge of your mattress, her arms still folded. @@.player;"It started at the Autumn Festival,"@@ you begin, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions stirring inside. @@.player;"There was this fortune teller. Madame Serena. I didn't really believe in that stuff, but Luke and Samantha dared me to go, so I did."@@ @@.lily;"Fortune teller?"@@ she asks, her eyes narrowing. @@.lily;"This better not end with her hypnotizing you."@@ @@.player;"Not exactly,"@@ you say, shaking your head. @@.player;"She... cursed me."@@ Her reaction is immediate—a sharp laugh that escapes before she can stop herself. @@.lily;"Cursed? $name, come on—"@@ @@.player;"I'm serious, Lily,"@@ you interrupt, your voice firmer. @@.player;"It's real. The curse is why I've been changing."@@ Lily blinks, her laughter fading as she studies your face. For once, she doesn't interrupt. You slowly explain, your words tumbling out faster. You struggle to find the words but find yourself opening up to Lily for the first time in a long time. @@.lily;"You're serious,"@@ she says quietly, her eyes searching yours. She leans back slightly, her arms dropping to her sides. Her sharp energy has been replaced with something more grounded. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, barely above a whisper. The silence between you feels heavy, but not oppressive. Lily looks down at her hands, her fingers twiddling as she processes what you've told her. @@.lily;"I mean, are you stuck like this?"@@ she asks carefully, her tone not demanding but rather curious. @@.lily;"Is there a way to reverse it? Do you even //want// to reverse it?"@@ <<if $acceptance > 24>>\ The last question catches you off guard, but you're sure exactly how to answer. You don't say it out loud, but you don't want this curse, if you can even call it that, to reverse. <<elseif $acceptance > 9>>\ The last question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you're not sure how to answer. Lily notices, her lips pressing into a thin line. <<else>>\ The last question catches you off guard, but you're sure exactly how to answer. You don't say it out loud, but you'd do anything to get rid of the curse. <</if>>\ @@.lily;"Look, if this is really happening, you don't have to go through it alone,"@@ she says, her voice regaining some of its usual fire. @@.lily;"I'm here."@@ You glance at her, surprised by the sudden warmth in her tone. @@.lily;"Don't look at me like that,"@@ Lily huffs. @@.lily;"You're still my brother... or sister... or whatever. You're still //you//, $name. That's what matters."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Lily, you say quietly."@@ @@.lily;"Don't thank me yet, you still owe me the full story,"@@ she replies, a teasing edge to her voice. For the first time in what feels like forever, the tension between you dissolves into something lighter. Whatever comes next, at least you know Lily will be there to face it with you. <<else>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo - 15, 0, 100)>>\ You hold her gaze for a moment, your mind racing for a response. The room feels heavy with her expectations, her frustration practically vibrating in the air. But instead of letting her in, you find yourself falling back on old habits. @@.player;"Wow, Lily,"@@ you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. @@.player;"I didn't realize you were a detective all of a sudden. What's next? You going to write a whole report on my skincare routine, Sherlock?"@@ Her eyes narrow, the hurt flickering across her face so briefly you almost miss it. @@.lily;"Don't start with this shit, $name,"@@ she snaps. @@.lily;"You know I'm serious."@@ You shrug, leaning back against your bed frame. @@.player;"I think you're overreacting. Maybe you're just mad because you've got nothing better to do than make up wild conspiracy theories about me. Ever thought of picking up a hobby?"@@ @@.lily;"Wow, of course, I don't know what I expected,"@@ she says, her lips pressing into a thin line. @@.lily;"Deflecting instead of just being honest."@@ @@.player;"Maybe there's nothing to tell,"@@ you fire back. @@.player;"Not everything is some dramatic mystery, Lily. Some of us actually mind our own business."@@ She takes a step back, her shoulders stiffening. @@.lily;"You think this is about me being nosy? I'm //worried// about you, dumbass!"@@ she snaps, her voice cracking. @@.player;"Yeah, well, maybe worry about yourself instead,"@@ you mutter, looking away. The silence that follows is thick and suffocating. When you glance back, Lily's jaw is clenched, her eyes glimmering with something you're not sure you've seen from her before. @@.lily;"Fine, then don't tell me what's going on,"@@ she says finally, her voice cold but trembling at the edges. @@.lily;"S-Screw you, $name, I was just concerned."@@ She turns on her heel, her movements stiff and deliberate as she heads for the door. She slams the door behind her as she leaves you all alone. You sit there, staring at the door, the echo of her words bouncing around in your mind. The house feels quieter now, emptier, the warmth of the evening with the squad suddenly replaced by a chill you can't quite shake. For all your sharp comebacks, you can't help but feel like you've pushed Lily further away. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - 10">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/restroom.png"> <<if $recentTransformation is "breasts1">>\ You look down, having just grown boobs. Boobs. On your body. You can't help but feel \ <<if $transgender > 9>>\ happy for some reason. You don't know why, but you do feel a little happy. <<else>>\ nervous. <</if>>\ You think they're small enough that nobody will notice them for now, but you don't know what you'll do if they grow further. You decide to leave that for later though. <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - 7">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts2">>\ <<set $afterEvent to "Day 11 - 7">>\ You look down, realizing your boobs just grew. You gasp, realizing you can't hide them anymore. This is something you have to address. <<button "Address the issue" "Event - Breasts">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts3">>\ You realize your boobs just grew even more. You have medium-sized breasts now, and they are very noticeable. You've already decided to \ <<if $eventBind is true>>\ bind them so that nobody will notice you've grown boobs. It'll be uncomfortable, but something you have to deal with. <<else>>\ just leave them be regardless of if people notice you've grown boobs. You sigh and wonder what you'll tell your parents. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - 7">><</button>> <<else>>\ You realize you just changed again, but luckily it's a part you can hide. You breathe a sigh of relief. <<button "Continue" "Day 11 - 7">><</button>> <</if>>\

The cheerleaders gather around Jessica as the music fades for the last time, their faces flushed and glistening with sweat from the effort of the final routine. There's a collective sigh of relief and a smattering of laughter as they exchange high-fives and pack up their gear. Jessica claps her hands to get everyone's attention. @@.jessica;"Alright, that's a wrap! Awesome work today, everyone. We're in good shape for tomorrow."@@ The squad cheers lightly, their earlier frustrations replaced with a sense of accomplishment. As they all start to pack their things, Jessica turns to address the group again, her voice carrying a more casual tone now. @@.jessica;"So, who's in for dinner?"@@ she asks, tossing her clipboard into her bag. @@.jessica;"We're going to the usual spot."@@ The cheerleaders murmur their agreement, a few of them nodding enthusiastically. They don't say it outright, but there's an unspoken understanding that this is a squad thing—a way to bond and unwind after practice. Jessica looks at you and offers a small smile of thanks. @@.jessica;"Thanks again for helping out, $name. Seriously, you were a lifesaver."@@ You nod, returning her smile. @@.player;"No problem. I'm glad I could help."@@ She doesn't invite you to the dinner. Her gratitude is genuine, but you pick up that the dinner is meant for the squad and only the squad. The subtle shift in their body language—the way they gather closer to each other, already chatting excitedly—makes it obvious. You grab your back, slinging it over your shoulder. @@.player;"I should get going now,"@@ you say, keeping your tone light. @@.player;"Have fun at dinner."@@ Jessica's smile widens slightly, and she gives you a quick wave. @@.jessica;"Thanks again! See you around."@@ The squad starts to head off together, their laughter and chatter fading as they walk toward the parking lot. You turn toward the opposite direction, the cool evening air brushing against your skin as you make your way home. <<button "Go Home" "Day 11 - 8">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> <<grantAchievement "RejectCheerleaders">>\ <<if $d11watchedCheerleaders is true>>\ Jessica's smile falters just slightly as you shake your head, keeping your tone light but firm. @@.player;"Thanks, but I'd rather stick to watching for now. You've got this covered without me."@@ She raises an eyebrow, her hands on her hips as she studies you for a moment. @@.jessica;"Are you sure?"@@ she asks, her voice playful but with a touch of genuine curiosity. @@.jessica;"You'd seriously be great. I mean, we're kind of desperate here, but even if we weren't, you'd still be an amazing addition."@@ You chuckle, trying to brush off the suggestion. @@.player;"I appreciate the vote of confidence, but cheering's not really my thing."@@ @@.jessica;"Alright, fine, I get it,"@@ Jessica says, sighing dramatically as she tosses her hair over her shoulder. She claps her hand to rally the squad, looking back at them. @@.jessica;"Okay, everyone, back in formation! Let's run it again. $name's just here to supervise, so let's give him something good to critique."@@ The cheerleaders move back into their positions, a few of them throwing you quick smiles or shrugs as if to say, "Can't blame us for trying." <</if>>\ The music starts up again after a few beats and the team launches into their routine. You settle back into your spot on the sidelines, crossing your arms as the cheerleaders move back into formation. The faint scent of the grass and the rhythmic thud of music playing from their small speaker set the scene. From this vantage point, it's easy to take in the intricacies of their movements—the sharp arm angles, the synchronized spins, and the way they time their jumps perfectly to the beat. Jessica leads with an effortless confidence, her voice cutting through the music as she calls out directions. @@.jessica;"Tighter transitions! Hit those marks! Sharp angles, people!"@@ Her presence is commanding but not intimidating; it's encouraging, like she's driving them to do their best while still having fun. You can't help but be impressed by how much effort goes into each move. It's not just about waving around pom-poms or smiling for the crowd. Cheerleading is athletic, precise, and intense. The team's dedication is evident, even in the little moments when they stumble or laugh at their mistakes. Jessica catches your eye mid-routine and flashes a quick grin before turning back to the team. @@.jessica;"Let's nail this pyramid, okay? Focus!"@@ The pyramid comes together again, and while it's a little wobbly, it's an improvement from before. The base cheerleaders plant their feet firmly, their arms locked as they lift the flyers into position. The top flyer hesitates but manages to pull it off, raising her arms triumphantly as the music crescendos. When they dismount, the team bursts into cheers and applause, their earlier frustration replaced with a sense of accomplishment. Jessica turns toward you, panting slightly but still smiling. @@.jessica;"Alright, be honest,"@@ she calls out, hands on her hips. @@.jessica;"How'd we do that time?"@@ You offer a thumbs-up and a small smile. @@.player;"Definitely better. The pyramid looked a lot steadier."@@ @@.jessica;"Good, because we need it perfect for tomorrow,"@@ Jessica replies, a fierce determination in her voice. She turns back to the squad. @@.jessica;"Everyone, take a break, then we'll clean up the last transition."@@ The cheerleaders break into smaller groups, grabbing their water bottles and chatting. From your spot on the sidelines, you watch the way they interact—the camaraderie, the way they encourage each other even when things don't go perfectly. For the rest of the session, you stay on the sidelines, offering occasional feedback when Jessica asks for it. Watching them work together feels strangely engaging, and even though you're not participating, you can't help but feel a small tug of admiration for the team's determination. <<button "Watch as they finish up" "Day 11 - Watch Cheerleading 1">><</button>>

<<set $day to 12>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ <img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> You're pulled from the haze of sleep with a harsh alarm. You quickly shut off the irritating noise and stretch. \ <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ Your muscles ache—a remnant of the practice yesterday. \ <</if>>\ It's no ordinary day though. It's the first football game of the season. You glance toward the clock, the numbers blinking steadily, and take a deep breath. Whatever happens, today is going to be a turning point. <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 12 - 2">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">><</button>> <<button "Just throw something on" "Day 12 - 2">>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

<<set $d12top to $top>>\ <<set $d12pants to $pants>>\ <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ The school day drifts by with an undercurrent of nervous energy that's impossible to ignore. Classes blur together as you find it harder to focus, your mind occupied by thoughts of tonight's football game. Every hallway and classroom seems to buzz with anticipation—your peers talking about rivalries, their plans for the night, and what snacks they'll sneak into the stands. At lunch, you sit with Luke and Samantha, their usual banter filling the air. Luke talks about the game, his voice full of optimism as he predicts a big win for the Pacific Crest Panthers. Samantha rolls her eyes, tossing out comments, though even she seems intrigued. You nod along to their conversation, keeping quiet about your own plans. They don't know that you're not just attending the game—you're going to be on the field. As part of the cheer squad. It's not something you've told anyone, not yet. The thought of their reactions churns in your stomach, but you know there's no room for hesitation. By the time the final bell rings, you grab your things and head toward where the cheerleaders are, your heart racing with nerves and anticipation. Tonight, you'll be out on the field in front of everyone, whether you're ready or not. <<button "Get going to the game" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader">>\<<set $d12attend to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_attend_game" "cheerleader" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ The school day passes in a blur of routine and chatter. Classes feel longer than usual, with teachers droning on and on while students whisper excitedly about the first football game of the season. The energy in the air is unmistakable, a mix of anticipation and school spirit that seeps into every hallway and classroom. At lunch, Luke and Samantha argue over whether tonight's game will be worth the hype. Luke's optimism clashes with Samantha's sarcasm, but both seem to agree that it's the highlight of the week. Throughout the day, you overhear snippets of conversations about team strategies, rivalries, and post-game parties. As the final bell rings and students stream toward the exits, the choice looms in front of you. It's tonight, and you know almost everyone will be there, decked out in blue and white to cheer for the Pacific Crest Panthers. You hesitate, weighing your options. <<button "Attend the game" "Day 12 - Game Spectator">>\<<set $d12attend to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_attend_game" "spectator" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide against attending the game" "Day 12 - 3">>\<<set $d12attend to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_attend_game" "reject" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<if $d12attend is true>>\ The house is quiet when you step inside, the faint creak of the front door cutting through the stillness. You pause, half-expecting someone to appear from the shadows and ask why you're getting home so late. But the living room is dark, and the only sound is the faint hum of the refrigerator. You let out a small sigh of relief, closing and locking the door behind you. The adrenaline from the game has mostly worn off, leaving you with that pleasant kind of tiredness. Oddly enough, it feels good. You slip off your shoes and sneak across the floor, being careful to avoid the creaky spots as you head for the stairs. You wince as the stairs groan under your weight, but you manage to creep down the hall and into your room. <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ You pull on your pajamas and flop onto your bed, sinking into the soft comfort of your blankets. The sounds of the day replay in your mind, and you hate to admit it, but being a cheerleader has been... fun. <<else>>\ You pull on your pajamas and flop onto your bed, sinking into the soft comfort of your blankets. The sounds of the day replay in your mind, and the game was tons of fun. <</if>>\ <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ As you shift in your bed, you feel a small stirring in your groin. For today though, you decide to ignore it. You're too tired to masturbate at the moment. <</if>>\ You let out a long, contented breath and roll onto your side. The moonlight glows faintly against the walls, and as your eyes drift shut, you think about everything that's happened today. There's still so much to figure out: the $referto, your place in all of this, how long you can keep juggling this double life. But for now, you let yourself relax. <<else>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You could've gone to the football game. You could've been out there, surrounded by energy, watching your school fight for victory. Instead, you're here. Sitting in your room, scrolling mindlessly through the same three websites, refreshing pages that haven't changed, and watching videos you don't even care about. The glow of your screen casts a pale light over your walls, the only sound is the occasional click of your mouse and the faint hum of your PC fans struggling against the heat of your bad life choices. Eventually, you sigh and open up a game. Something familiar, something comfortable. Something you've played a hundred times before. You see there's a new update and you ignore it. The devs spent a lot of time working on it, adding new content for the player, but you? You don't see the point in trying it out. Eventually, you shut it down. The internet, the video games, the distractions. You sit there in the quiet, realizing the game's long over by now. The stadium lights are off, the crowd's gone home, and whatever happened out there? Well, you weren't a part of it. Now it's just another night. Just like all the others. <</if>>\ <<button "Drift off" "Day 13 - 1">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-gymd.png"> <<if $d12makeup is 0>>\ You glance at the box of makeup supplies, the colorful array of products neatly arranged and glowing under the gym's fluorescent lights. Jessica and Mia both watch you with bright smiles, their enthusiasm palpable. Despite all their energy though, you shake your head gently. @@.player;"Thanks, but I think I'll pass,"@@ you say, offering them a small smile. Jessica tilts her head, her grin softening into something more understanding. @@.jessica;"Yeah, that's totally fair,"@@ she says, stepping back. @@.jessica;"You've already done so much just stepping in for us. We're just glad you're here."@@ @@.girl;"Fine, no makeup,"@@ Mia says, mock-sighing as she sets a tube of lip gloss back in the box. @@.girl;"But don't come crying when you see how pretty the rest of us look under the lights."@@ @@.player;"I think I'll survive,"@@ you say, shaking your head. Ashley, who's been adjusting her hair nearby, chimes in. @@.girl;"Honestly, $name, you don't need it. You've got good features already—you'll look great either way."@@ @@.jessica;"True, the important thing is that you feel comfortable,"@@ Jessica says, nodding in agreement. @@.jessica;"We'll focus on the uniform and routine, and you'll be good to go."@@ The squad quickly moves on, directing their attention to other preparations. Jessica hands you your uniform, her voice light as she reminds everyone about the timeline for the game. As you change into the uniform and join the group, you can't help but feel a small surge of relief. No makeup, no extra frills—just you, stepping into this new experience on your terms. <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 3">><</button>> <<elseif $d12makeup is 1>>\ @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, glancing at the excited faces around you. @@.player;"I'll give it a shot. But keep it subtle, alright?"@@ Jessica beams, her excitement contagious. @@.jessica;"Of course! Trust me, you're going to look amazing. Mia, grab the essentials!"@@ Mia dives into the makeup box with practiced ease. She looks at your face for a bit before pulling out a small selection of products. She gestures for you to sit on a nearby stool, and the other cheerleaders gather around, their chatter lively but encouraging. @@.jessica;"Okay, first things first,"@@ Jessica says, squeezing a small amount of lightweight cushion foundation onto a puff. @@.girl;"We'll even out your skin tone. For your skin, makeup would be about making it look natural and dewy. It's just enhancing what you've already got."@@ She begins dabbing the cushion foundation lightly across your face, her touch surprisingly gentle. The coolness of the product feels soothing against your skin, something you'd never experienced before. @@.girl;"See? Perfect canvas,"@@ Mia says, watching over Jessica's shoulder. @@.girl;"Your skin's already so clear. This just makes it look a little more polished."@@ Next, Jessica picks up a sheer, peach-toned blush and brushes it lightly onto your cheeks. The soft strokes feel featherlight, and she adds just enough to give your complexion a subtle, healthy glow. @@.jessica;"Blush is key,"@@ she explains. @@.jessica;"It makes you look fresh and awake, especially with the bright lights."@@ Mia hands Jessica a slim eyebrow pencil, and Jessica leans in closer. @@.jessica;"Your brows are great already, so just a little shaping to define them."@@ She gently fills in your brows with quick, precise strokes, then brushes them into places with a spoolie. @@.jessica;"Almost done!"@@ Jessica says, grabbing a liquid eyeliner. She holds it up for a moment, a playful grin on her face. @@.jessica;"Just a tiny flick for a subtle wing."@@ You close your eyes as she carefully lines your eyelid, the tip of the brush gliding smoothly along the edge. You can feel Jessica adding the faintest wing at the outer corner of your eyes. @@.jessica;"Now, last step, I swear,"@@ she announces, reaching for a tinted lip balm in a rosy shade. @@.jessica;"This'll keep your lips hydrated and add just a hint of color."@@ She applies the balm and the sweet, fruity scent that drifts to your nose is faint but pleasant. The balm is barely noticeable, but it gives your lips a soft sheen that catches the light in just the right way. @@.jessica;"There!"@@ Jessica says, stepping back with a satisfied smile. @@.jessica;"We're all done. $name, you're officially game-day ready."@@ Mia claps, her excitement radiating. @@.girl;"Wait, don't look yet! Let me grab the mirror."@@ You sit still, feeling the faint weight of the makeup but having no idea how it all looks together. The cheerleaders exchange smiles and whispers. While their approval is obvious, it seems they're enjoying leaving you in suspense. Mia returns with a handheld mirror, holding it just out of your reach. @@.girl;"Okay, are you ready? No freaking out."@@ She angles the mirror toward you, and for the first time, you feel the reflection staring back. Your skin looks smooth and radiant, the subtle blush and soft eyeliner enhancing your features without overwhelming them. The tinted lip balm adds a touch of color, tying everything together into a natural, polished look that feels like an upgraded version of yourself. <<if $transgender > 9>>\ Your reflection feels like a revelation. The soft blush on your cheeks, the gentle flick of eyeliner, and the natural glow of your skin don't just make you look polished—they make you feel //seen// in a way that catches you off guard. You touch your face lightly as if to confirm the person in the mirror is really you. @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you murmur, the word barely audible. Jessica's grin widens, catching the shift in your expression. @@.jessica;"See? I knew you'd love it. You look incredible."@@ Mia leans in, her voice teasing but kind. @@.girl;"Told you makeup wasn't so scary. You're pulling it off better than most of us do."@@ You nod slowly, still staring in the mirror. There's a warmth building in your chest—a quiet, unexpected joy that leaves you smiling softly. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, your voice steadier now. @@.player;"It... really does look good."@@ You glance back at the mirror one last time, your reflection holding your gaze. For now, the person staring back feels like someone you could get used to seeing. <<else>>\ <<if $acceptance > 20>>\ Your reflection surprises you, but you can't help the small smile that creeps onto your face. The polished look in the mirror is striking, and while it doesn't feel like a huge transformation, it's a pleasant surprise. It feels like trying on a new outfit you didn't think would work but ends up fitting better than expected. @@.player;"Huh,"@@ you say, tilting your head as you study your face. @@.player;"It's not... bad."@@ Jessica grins, clearly pleased. @@.jessica;"Not bad? Please. $name—it's amazing, and you know it."@@ Mia nods, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. @@.girl;"You look sharp, but, like, effortlessly so. People pay good money to pull off what you're doing naturally."@@ You laugh lightly, handing the mirror back. @@.player;"Alright, fine. I'll admit it—it looks pretty good. Thanks for not going overboard."@@ Jessica nudges your arm playfully. @@.jessica;"See? We know what we're doing. You're going to be the star out there tonight, trust me."@@ You glance at your reflection one last time. The soft makeup is a reminder of how much you've grown lately—not just in how you look but in embracing the unexpected. <<else>>\ Your reflection catches you off guard, the polished look staring back feeling more foreign than familiar. The makeup is skillfully done—there's no denying that—but it doesn't quite click in your mind as //you//. @@.player;"It's.. different,"@@ you say, your tone neutral as you tilt your head. @@.jessica;"Different in a good way, right?"@@ Jessica asks, although you can tell she's picked up on your hesitance. @@.jessica;"It's all about the game-day vibe. Trust me—you look awesome."@@ Mia nods, her smile easy. @@.girl;"Yeah, it's just makeup. Think of it like a Halloween costume or something. Just something for fun."@@ You force a small smile, handing the mirror back. @@.player;"I guess, yeah. Thanks for keeping it subtle."@@ Jessica pats your shoulder lightly. @@.jessica;"Don't overthink it. You're going to look great out there, and no one's even going to notice the makeup or recognize that it's you out there."@@ You nod, although you can't help but notice their enthusiasm doesn't match your own. The makeup doesn't feel like //you//, but as you glance around at the squad's supportive smiles, you remind yourself that it's just for the game—and maybe that's all it needs to be. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Go all in,"@@ you say, nodding. The cheerleaders erupt into a chorus of excitement immediately. Jessica claps her hands together while Mia practically jumps in place. @@.jessica;"Full glam, huh?"@@ Jessica asks, cracking a grin. @@.jessica;"Bold choice. Alright, sit tight. You're in good hands."@@ She grabs a chair and gestures for you to sit down. The squad gathers around, murmuring a mix of curiosity and approval. Mia claps her hands together, practically bouncing on her toes. @@.girl;"This is going to be so good. Jessica's amazing at this."@@ Jessica pulls the makeup box closer, her movements confident as she selects her tools. @@.jessica;"Alright, $name. Close your eyes and relax. You won't see anything until I'm done, so no peeking. Got it?"@@ @@.player;"Got it,"@@ you reply, leaning back in the chair and closing your eyes. You can feel the squad's energy buzzing around you, their chatter blending into the background as Jessica begins her work. The first touch is gentle, a cool sensation as Jessica dabs primer across your face. @@.jessica;"This will help everything stay put,"@@ she explains. @@.jessica;"Even with all the cheering and sweating you're going to be doing under those field lights."@@ Next comes the foundation. She chooses a shade that perfectly matches your skin tone, blending it seamlessly with a damp cushion puff. @@.jessica;"We need to make a natural, glowing base for you,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"We want you to look fresh, not caked up."@@ The foundation feels light but silky, smoothing out your skin without making it feel heavy. Jessica applies it in thin layers, building just enough coverage to even out your complexion while maintaining a luminous finish. @@.jessica;"Now, we've got to do some contouring,"@@ she murmurs. She lightly dusts a subtle contour powder along the sides of your nose and under your cheekbones, keeping the strokes precise but minimal. @@.jessica;"Nothing too harsh, of course. The style of makeup I'm doing for you doesn't do heavy lines—just soft definition."@@ You feel the cool bristles of a brush as she adds just a hint of blush to your cheeks, focusing on the apples and blending upward toward your temples. @@.jessica;"We're going for that natural flush,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Kind of like you've just stepped out of the cold."@@ @@.jessica;"Okay, okay, now it's time for the fun part,"@@ Jessica says, her tone brightening. @@.jessica;"Let me tell you, your eyes are going to //pop//."@@ She starts with a neutral base, sweeping a light beige shadow across your lids. Then, she adds a soft wash of peachy-pink shimmer, blending it out into a gradient that subtly catches the light. @@.jessica;"Hmm, let's keep it classic for eyeliner,"@@ she says. You feel the gentle glide of gel eyeliner pen as she draws along your lash line, flicking it upward at the end for a wing. @@.jessica;"This should bring life to your eyes without looking too dramatic."@@ @@.girl;"Are we doing $name's eyelashes?"@@ Mia interrupts. Jessica pauses, her tone turning almost playful. @@.jessica;"Yeah, we have to,"@@ she asserts. @@.jessica;"Trust us when we say these will make //all// the difference."@@ You feel her curling your lashes before applying a quick coat of mascara, keeping her touch steady and deliberate. The mascara lifts and separates each lash, giving them a fluttery look. @@.jessica;"We're almost there,"@@ Jessica says, the excitement in her voice contagious. @@.jessica;"Just need to finish with the lips and some final touches."@@ You feel the soft glide of lip tint as she applies it to the center of your lips. She takes some time blending it outward for a gradient effect. @@.jessica;"This is called gradient lips, it's becoming really popular as of late. It's like a soft, natural look—like your lips have just been bitten."@@ She finishes by spritzing a fine mist of setting spray over your face. @@.jessica;"This will keep everything in place. Now... ready to see the masterpiece?"@@ Jessica steps back with a flourish, setting her makeup brushes on the table like a painter who just completed a masterpiece. The squad, who had been watching, breaks into gasps and murmurs the moment they see you. @@.girl;"Holy shit,"@@ Mia breathes, her eyes wide as she leans closer. @@.girl;"$name, you look... I can't even."@@ @@.girl;"How is this even possible?"@@ Ashley chimes in. @@.girl;"This is next-level."@@ @@.jessica;"Alright, alright,"@@ Jessica says, waving her hand. @@.jessica;"Let's not inflate my ego too much. $name deserves the credit for having great features to work with."@@ Her words make your cheeks flush, although you're unsure whether it came from the compliment or the surreal nature of the moment. @@.jessica;"Okay, $name,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"I have a mirror right in front of you. Ready? Open your eyes."@@ You take a deep breath, nerves fluttering in your chest, and slowly open your eyes. The first thing that jumps out at you is how luminous you look. Your glowing, dewy skin reflects the soft overhead lights perfectly, every pore seemingly smoothed into invisibility. Your eyes, framed by the soft shimmer of the eyeshadow and the delicate flick of the eyeliner, seem larger and more alive, drawing attention without overwhelming your features. Your lashes make them pop even more, adding depth and warmth. Your cheeks have a soft, natural flush, the blush blending seamlessly into your skin. Your lips are also perfectly tinted with a gradient that makes them look effortlessly natural yet polished. For a moment, you don't recognize the person in the mirror. <<if $transgender > 9>>\ But then, something clicks. The soft glow of your skin, the way your eyes seem brighter, the delicate flush on your cheeks—it feels all so different, yet not wrong. It's like staring at a version of yourself that had always been there, just waiting to be brought into focus. Your breath catches slightly as you lean closer, taking in every single little detail. Everything feels like it was meant to be this way all along. You blink, trying to process the rush of emotions swirling in your chest. There's a strange but undeniable sense of relief, of something slotting into place. it's not just the makeup, not at all, it's what it hints at. For the first time, the reflection looking back at you feels like it's matching something deeper. @@.jessica;"$name, you good?"@@ Jessica's voice is gentle, breaking the quiet spell of the moment. You glance at her, seeing her expression being equal parts proud and curious. Your lips tug into a small smile, unbidden but genuine. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say softly, your voice steady but warm. @@.player;"Yeah, I think I'm... good."@@ Jessica smiles back. @@.jessica;"See, I told you you'd look amazing. You're a natural."@@ Around you, the squad cheers and chatters. Their voices are bright and celebratory, but to you, they're just background noise to the quiet realization. The person staring back in the mirror isn't someone else. They're you. And for the first time in a long time, you like what you see. This feeling is more like an undercurrent than a flood, but it's there. And it's enough to leave you sitting a little taller. You nod, taking a deep breath as you step away from the mirror. There's still a game to prepare for—but for now, this quiet, unexpected moment of peace stays with you. <<else>>\ <<if $acceptance > 20>>\ The makeup transforms your features in ways you didn't expect, softening edges, brightening your eyes, and highlighting your best traits. It's not what you're used to, but it's... not bad. You tilt your head slightly, taking it in. The reflection staring back at you feels unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. It's like trying on a costume, a role you're not quite sure you fit yet, but one that feels surprisingly comfortable. @@.jessica;"You're killing it, $name,"@@ Jessica says, her voice breaking the silence. You glance at her, then back at the mirror, letting out a small, self-conscious laugh. @@.player;"It's different,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"But I think I kind of like it."@@ The squad cheers, and as you catch another glimpse of yourself, you can't help but smile. Different or not, you're starting to see why they're so excited. <<else>>\ It throws you off. The glowing skin, the delicate makeup, the way your features seem softer, more refined—it's almost like looking at a stranger. Your stomach knots, the unfamiliarity feeling sharp and uncomfortable. You shift in your seat, your fingers gripping the edge of the chair as you try and process the image staring back at you. @@.jessica;"You alright?"@@ Jessica asks, her tone gentle but concerned. You hesitate, forcing a small smile. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"It's just... a lot."@@ Jessica nods, stepping back slightly to give you space. The squad's chatter and cheers feel distant, their excitement almost overwhelming. You glance at your reflection again, struggling to reconcile what you see with how you feel, the discomfort lingering even as the team's energy tries to pull you back in. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $d12makeup > 0>>\ As you catch your reflection in the mirror, a sudden, unmistakable warmth blooms in your chest, spreading outward like a ripple. Your heart skips, and you feel the telltale tingling in your hands and face. Panic sets in, and without a word, you push back your chair, mumbling something vague as you rush toward the gym restroom. <<set $nextScene to "Day 12 - Restroom">> <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballnd.png"> You watch intently as the second half of the game unfolds from the sidelines. Your school has been trailing all night and the team's spirits have been wavering as the opposing team dominates. But the crowd remains energized, and the players on the field—led by Jordan, the quarterback, and Luke, the wide receiver—start to shift momentum. The third quarter passes in tense silence, the Panthers struggling to push through the defense. But then, with just a minute left in the game, Jordan takes the ball and charges forward, weaving between defenders with sheer determination. He throws a long pass down the field, his arm strong and accurate. The crowd roars, and you feel the excitement mounting. From your vantage point, you spot Luke—a force of nature in his position—charging through the defense like a freight train. You knew your best friend was good at football, but actually witnessing it is a different story. He breaks through tackles, fists pumping with sheer strength until he reaches the end zone. In the final seconds, Jordan's pass lands perfectly in Luke's hands. The crowd goes wild, cheers erupting as Luke catches the ball in stride and bursts into the end zone, sealing the touchdown that shifts the game in favor of Pacific Crest. The game clock ticks down to zero, and the entire stadium erupts in a wave of celebration. The players are swarmed by teammates, the crowd chanting their names. It's a moment of triumph, and you find yourself unable to stop smiling. The adrenaline in the air is palpable, and you get swept up in the excitement, cheering alongside the rest of the team. As the cheerleaders join the celebration on the sidelines, Jessica grabs your arm, her eyes shining with excitement. @@.jessica;"We did it!"@@ she shouts over the roar of the crowd. @@.jessica;"They came through!"@@ You exchange smiles with your fellow cheerleaders, feeling a deep sense of pride. Even though the game has ended, the cheering doesn't stop. The Panthers have won, and the feeling of triumph reverberates through the night. Amidst it all though, you spot Jordan walking off the field. His expression is stoic and his gaze is distant. He moves quickly, shoulders hunched as if the celebration means nothing to him. He avoids eye contact, shutting himself off from the crowd entirely as he storms off. Nearby, Luke is in a different state of mind. He's laughing, clapping teammates on the back, and still riding the high of the last-second play. His wide grin shifts as he spots Samantha nearby, who's already pulling out her phone, typing away with a smirk on her face. Luke strolls over to her, standing close as he sends a quick text, unaware of your presence. Your phone buzzes and you see a simple text from Luke asking where you are. Meanwhile, Jessica is still with the other cheerleaders, laughing and celebrating the win. She throws her arms around the girls, a contagious energy radiating off of her. She's basking in the moment, soaking up all the attention as they chat about the win. You stand there, caught between the scene unfolding around you. You wonder who you should approach. <<set $gameday1CG to true>>\ <<set $gameday1CGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $gameday1CGhairtie to $hairtie>>\ <<set $gameday1CGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $gameday1CGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ \ <<include "CG_GameDay1">>\ <<button "Go to Jordan" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (Jordan)">>\<<set $d12who to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D12_postgame_talk" "jordan" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Go to your two best friends" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (BFF)">>\<<set $d12who to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_postgame_talk" "bffs" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Go to Jessica" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (Jessica)">>\<<trackChoice "D12_postgame_talk" "jessica" "rel">><<set $d12who to 2>>\<</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballn.png"> <<if $d12makeup > 0>>\ You take a deep breath and approach Luke and Samantha, your heart pounding in time with the distant cheers still rippling through the crowd. The lights from the field cast a harsh glow, and the makeup on your face feels like a mask—not just covering your skin, but cloaking your identity. As you step closer, Samantha looks up first, her sharp eyes scanning over you with curiosity. She tilts her head slightly as if trying to piece where she's seen you before. Luke follows her gaze, his brow furrowing in confusion. @@.player;"Uh, hey,"@@ you say, making your voice softer. The nerves bubble up, but you manage to push them down. Samantha's eyes widen for a brief moment before her face lights up with a friendly smile. @@.samantha;"Hey, you're one of the cheerleaders, right? You were amazing out there! That halftime routine was on point."@@ Luke nods, his confusion melting into casual friendliness. @@.luke;"Yeah, you guys really hyped up the crowd. I think it helped us pull through in the end. Thanks for that."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I appreciate it,"@@ you reply, your voice steadying. It's surreal to stand here, talking to your best friends while they have no idea who you are. The cheerleading uniform and makeup have transformed you into someone unrecognizable, even to the people who know you best. @@.samantha;"So, you must be new, right?"@@ Samantha asks, gesturing toward you. @@.samantha;"Jessica's been talking about adding to the squad, but I didn't think they'd find someone this good right away."@@ Luke chimes in, chuckling. @@.luke;"Seriously. You were killing it out there. What's your name, by the way? I haven't seen you around before."@@ Your stomach flips at the question. You could play along, let the illusion hold for a little longer, or you could reveal the truth, watching their shock and disbelief unfold. <<button "Stay anonymous" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (BFF) 2">>\<<set $d12tellbff to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_tell_bff" false "story">><</button>> <<button "Reveal yourself" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (BFF) 2">>\<<set $d12tellbff to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_tell_bff" true "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ You take a deep breath, your pulse quickening as you step closer to your two best friends, the reality of the moment sinking in. They're right there, unaware of who you really are. You clear your throat, and both of them turn to look at you in surprise. @@.luke;"What—?"@@ Luke frowns, his eyes narrowing as he takes in your outfit. @@.luke;"Wait... is that you, $name?"@@ Samantha's brows furrow as her gaze lingers, recognizing the familiar face beneath the unfamiliar uniform. @@.samantha;"$name, that's you, what the hell? What are you doing in a cheerleading outfit?"@@ You glance between the two of them, your heart pounding. The secret is out—at least part of it. They've recognized you. There's a mix of shock and curiosity on their faces, and you can't help but feel a little exposed. @@.player;"Yeah, I guess you guys weren't expecting this, huh?"@@ you say with a small smile, trying to keep things light despite the nerves bubbling underneath. @@.player;"I figured I'd try something different. Needed a new perspective."@@ @@.luke;"Cheerleading, though?"@@ Luke asks, obviously still processing what's happening. Samantha crosses her arms, giving you a skeptical glance. @@.samantha;"You're really doing this? A cheerleader? That's unexpected, even with how you've been acting lately."@@ She smirks, though there's genuine curiosity behind her eyes. @@.samantha;"How long has this been going on, huh?"@@ You shift uncomfortably under their scrutiny, wondering how you should address this. <<button "Keep it light" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (BFF) 2">>\<<set $d12tellbff to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_tell_bff" false "story">><</button>> <<button "Tell them the truth" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (BFF) 2">>\<<set $d12tellbff to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_tell_bff" true "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballn.png"> <<if $d12makeup > 0>>\ <<if $d12tellbff is true>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest. The makeup, the uniform, the role you've been playing—all of it feels like armor, but the thought of keeping this secret from your best friends weighs heavily on your shoulders. Taking a deep breath, you decide to pull off the mask. @@.player;"Well..."@@ you begin, your voice quieter than you expected. @@.player;"It's me."@@ Samantha blinks, her smile faltering as confusion flickers across her face. @@.samantha;"What do you mean?"@@ she asks, her tone measured. Luke's expression mirrors her, his brows knitting together. @@.luke;"Wait, what?"@@ You lift a hand and brush back a strand of hair, your fingers grazing the edge of your face where the makeup feels heavier. @@.player;"It's me, $name,"@@ you say, letting your voice drop to its normal range. For a moment, there's nothing but the sounds of the crowd behind you and the faint crackle of the stadium lights. Then, Samantha's eyes widen in sheer disbelief. @@.samantha;"Wait, wait, hold on!"@@ she exclaims, taking a step closer and squinting at you. @@.samantha;"$name? $name Yoon? Our $name?"@@ Luke's jaw drops as he stares at you, completely flabbergasted. @@.luke;"No way. This has to be some kind of prank."@@ @@.player;"It's not a prank,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"I'm being serious, it's me. I know I look... different, but Jessica kind of roped me into helping the cheer squad. One thing led to another and here I am."@@ Samantha's face shifts from shock to a grin as she takes in your appearance again. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she says before bursting into laughter. @@.samantha;"This is insane! You're cheerleading?! And you're actually good at it?!"@@ @@.luke;"How did this happen?"@@ Luke asks. @@.luke;"And why do you look like that?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It's a long story, but it turns out I'm good at it. Naturally talented, you can say. Jessica convinced me to join for the game tonight."@@ Samantha nudges Luke with her elbow. @@.samantha;"Hey, don't act so surprised. $name's always been full of surprises after all."@@ She looks back at you, her grin softening and becoming more affectionate. @@.samantha;"Honest, you look great. Like, it seriously suits you."@@ <<if $lukeRomance > 9>>\ Luke nods slowly, his expression caught between disbelief and something softer. @@.luke;"Yeah, uh... I guess you do. Look great, I mean."@@ His voice lowers just a touch. @@.luke;"This is wild, though. You're not about to tell us you're switching careers to cheerleading, are you?"@@ He let's out a light laugh, but it's different—almost like he's searching for a way to ease the tension. <<else>>\ @@.luke;"Yeah, I guess you do,"@@ Luke says, though it's clear he's still processing. He laughs and shakes his head, trying to make the situation lighter. @@.luke;"You're not about to tell us you're switching careers to cheerleading, are you?"@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Not yet,"@@ you reply, a sheepish smile on your face. @@.samantha;"Well, whatever this is, you better tell us everything later,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Like every single detail."@@ <<else>>\ You hesitate for a moment, the words teetering on the edge of your tongue. But something holds you back. You don't know if it's the thrill of being seen in a different light or the curiosity to see how they interact with you. Whatever the reason, you make the split-second decision to keep your identity hidden. @@.player;"Oh, yeah, I just joined recently,"@@ you say, flashing them a warm smile. @@.player;"Jessica's been really great about helping me catch up."@@ @@.samantha;"Well, you're already killing it,"@@ Samantha says, clearly curious about the new face in the cheerleading squad. @@.samantha;"You were flawless. I'd be falling flat on my face if I tried half the things you were able to pull off."@@ @@.luke;"Seriously,"@@ Luke adds, his easy grin making the whole situation feel oddly normal. @@.luke;"It's cool to see how much energy you guys bring. It really amps up the team."@@ You nod, your smile tightening slightly. If only he knew. @@.samantha;"Are you planning to stick with cheerleading?"@@ Samantha asks. @@.samantha;"I don't know how long you've been practicing, but it feels like you've got real potential."@@ @@.player;"Maybe. It has been a lot of fun so far, after all."@@ Samantha glances at Luke, a playful glint in her eyes. @@.samantha;"You should try it, Luke. You've really got the height for stunting. It would help the cheerleading squad if you joined and threw people in the air."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, I'm good,"@@ Luke snorts. @@.luke;"I'll leave that to the professionals. I'd probably drop someone on their head anyway."@@ The familiar banter makes you feel a little more at ease, though the surrealness of the moment isn't lost on you. Here you are, talking to your closest friends, and they're treating you like a stranger. @@.samantha;"Anyway, we should probably head back to find our friend,"@@ Samantha says, checking her phone. @@.samantha;"He's probably wandering around somewhere, lost as always."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, see you around,"@@ Luke says, cutting the conversation. As they turn to leave, you feel a strange mix of relief and disappointment. For now, the secret remains yours. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d12tellbff is true>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You let out a long breath, deciding there's no point in hiding it anymore. They've already seen you, and pretending otherwise won't change anything. Looking at Luke and Samantha, a bewildered expressions on their faces, you realize they deserve an explanation—your friends always do. @@.player;"Yeah, this is me,"@@ you admit, gesturing to the cheerleading uniform. @@.player;"I've been... helping out the squad."@@ @@.samantha;"Helping out?"@@ Samantha echoes, her voice tinged with disbelief. @@.samantha;"What the fuck $name, you're in //uniform//. You're not just 'helping out.' You're part of the team."@@ Luke stares at you like he's trying to connect the dots. @@.luke;"Wait, hold on. You've actually been out here—on the sidelines, cheering—for how long? We didn't even notice."@@ @@.player;"Well, it's not like I was trying to advertise it,"@@ you reply with a shrug. @@.player;"But yeah, I've been practicing with the team lately. Today was my first game."@@ Samantha's eyes widen, and she points a finger at you. @@.samantha;"Your first game?"@@ she says, her voice rising. @@.samantha;"$name, how does that even happen? You don't just //join// the cheerleading team overnight."@@ You rub the back of your neck, feeling the weight of the moment. @@.player;"It just... kind of did happen overnight. They needed someone to fill in and I thought it'd be temporary, but it turns out I'm actually good at it."@@ Luke finally snaps out of his stunned silence and laughs, shaking his head. @@.luke;"Good at it? Dude, you were out there in front of the whole school."@@ Samantha steps closer, her expression shifting from shock to something more thoughtful. @@.samantha;"I've got to say, I'm kind of impressed,"@@ she admits. @@.samantha;"I never thought I'd see you pulling off stunts and chants, but... you did. And you looked like you belonged out there too."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, I guess,"@@ you say, offering a sheepish smile. Luke shakes his head again, clearly still processing the revelation. @@.luke;"This is wild. I don't even know what to say. But, are you sure about this? Like you're really okay being out there in that?"@@ He gestures at the uniform again, his tone softer now, almost protective. <<if $trans > 14 or $acceptance > 19>>\ You glance down at the uniform, your mind flashing back to the hours of practice, the energy of the crowd, and the way the cheerleaders welcomed you like one of their own. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, meeting their eyes. @@.player;"It's weird, I know. But it feels... right, somehow."@@ <<else>>\ You glance down at the uniform, your fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem. The hours of practice, the roar of the crowd, and the cheerleaders' easy camaraderie flicker through your mind—but instead of comfort, it leaves you with a tangled knot of uncertainty. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you admit, your voice quieter. @@.player;"It's weird, and I guess it just happened. I'm still figuring it out."@@ <</if>>\ Samantha smiles, giving a teasing nudge. @@.samantha;"Who are we to judge though, right? You were pretty great right there anyway."@@ Luke grins, the surprise in his eyes softening into something warmer. @@.luke;"You've always had a way of surprising people, I guess I should've expected this."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You force a casual, adjusting the hem of your cheerleading top in an attempt to seem unbothered. @@.player;"Oh, you know, just trying something new,"@@ you say with a shrug, as if stepping into a cheerleading uniform and performing at a football game was the most normal thing in the world. @@.player;"Figured it couldn't hurt to mix things up a bit."@@ Luke raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. @@.luke;"Mix things up?"@@ he asks. @@.luke;"Dude, this isn't something small. You're literally in a cheerleading uniform. That's a bit more than 'mixing things up.'"@@ Samantha, on the other hand, seems more intrigued than anything. She tilts her head, her smirk softening. @@.samantha;"So, what, did Jessica rope you into this? Or did you wake up one morning and think 'You know what I really need? A pom-pom in each hand.'"@@ You chuckle nervously, scratching the back of your neck. @@.player;"Let's just say... circumstances led me here,"@@ you reply cryptically, keeping your tone light. @@.player;"Hey, I'm not half-bad at it either, apparently."@@ <<if $lukeRomance > 9>>\ Luke crosses his arms, shaking his head with an amused huff. @@.luke;"Man, I can't believe I didn't recognize you out there. You were... what's the word?"@@ He pauses, his gaze flickering to the uniform for a split second before quickly looking away. @@.luke;"Uh, energetic. Yeah, that's it. Energetic. I guess you're actually... pretty good at this."@@ <<else>>\ Luke crosses his arms and lets out an amused huff. @@.luke;"Man, I can't believe I didn't recognize you, $name,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"You did pretty good, I've got to give you props."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Thanks... I think?"@@ you reply with a grin. Samantha steps forward, leaning in. @@.samantha;"So, are you gonna tell us why you really did this, or are you just gonna keep being all mysterious and stuff?"@@ You glance between the two of them, weighing your response. @@.player;"Let's just say it's been an interesting day,"@@ you finally say, dodging the question with a practiced vagueness. Samantha rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"Fine, keep your secrets."@@ @@.luke;"Whatever, man,"@@ Luke says, shaking his head. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 12">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballnd.png"> You weave through the crowd toward Luke and Samantha, your cheerleading uniform helping blend you in seamlessly with the \ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ other \ <</if>>\ girls. Luke leans casually against the bleachers, still in his football gear, his helmet tucked under one arm. Sweat glistens on his brow, but his grin remains firmly in place as Samantha teases him about the game. She gestures animatedly, her voice carrying over the crowd. @@.samantha;"Come on, Luke, you seriously //almost// botched it in the third quarter,"@@ she says with an exaggerated sigh, though her tone stays playful. @@.luke;"Hey, it worked out, didn't it?"@@ Luke shoots back with a chuckle. @@.luke;"You know who really needed saving? Jordan. I'm the real hero here."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Mr. Hero,"@@ Samantha retorts, crossing her arms with a smirk. @@.samantha;"We all know you just love the attention."@@ Luke glances down at his phone, a concerned look crossing his face. @@.luke;"Speaking of attention, $name missed one hell of a game. I'll have to text him the play-by-play later."@@ Samantha arches an eyebrow, taking a moment to glance around as if making sure no one else is listening. She leans in slightly, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone. You inch closer, getting just in range to eavesdrop. @@.samantha;"I mean, seriously, do you think he'll even care?"@@ she asks. \ <<if $friendsKnow is true>>\ @@.samantha;"Like, I get he's going through the curse, but he's been acting so... different. You can tell he's hiding something from us."@@ <<else>>\ @@.samantha;"I mean seriously. You've noticed, right? He's been acting so... different. Like something's been going on with him, but he won't say what. It's kinda weird."@@ <</if>>\ Luke shrugs, but you catch his expression darkening for a split second. @@.luke;"Yeah, I've noticed that he's been skipping out on stuff,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he's got some new secret project. Probably something dumb, though. $name's never been good at keeping stuff to himself."@@ @@.samantha;"I guess, yeah, you're probably right,"@@ Samantha says, not seeming like she quite believes her own words. @@.samantha;"I just don't know what's keeping him so busy."@@ She trails off, staring at the crowd as if trying to figure out where you may be. @@.samantha;"I'm curious. I haven't seen him all game and he seemed really weird at lunch. What do you think he's up to?"@@ <<button "Approach them" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (BFF) 1">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballn.png"> Jessica glances over her shoulder, scanning the lively group before turning back with a subtle smile. @@.jessica;"Hey, can I steal you for a sec?"@@ she asks. @@.jessica;"Just wanted to chat for a bit."@@ You give her a curious look but nod, following her slightly away from the rest of the cheering squad. The two of you head toward the quieter edge of the field, away from the excited chatter and bright stadium lights. The glow from the game still flickers in the distance, but now it's just the two of you, standing under the dim lights lining the sidelines. Jessica lets out a soft sigh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. @@.jessica;"First off, I just wanted to say thanks. For joining us tonight, I mean. I was a little nervous about how things would go, to be honest."@@ She pauses, her fingers brushing against her arm as if she's hesitant to keep talking. @@.jessica;"We've had new faces before, and sometimes... well, it doesn't always work out. But you? You've really made all the difference."@@ @@.jessica;"Honestly, I was scared,"@@ she admits, biting her lips for a moment before continuing. @@.jessica;"I didn't want the squad to mess up. I didn't want to feel like I let everyone down, you know? You've made me feel better about all this, though. Like maybe, just maybe, we've got something good here."@@ She gives you a small, thankful smile, her tone steady but carrying a quiet vulnerability. @@.jessica;"It's been really nice having you with us. I'm glad you're part of the team."@@ <<button "Keep it friendly" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (Jessica) 2">>\<<set $d12jessicaromantic to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_jessica_romantic" fals "rel">><</button>> <<button "Get it romantic" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (Jessica) 2">>\<<set $d12jessicaromantic to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_jessica_romantic" true "rel">><</button>>

<<if $d12jessicaromantic is true>>\ <<if $d12makeup is 0 or $transgender < 10>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at Jessica again, letting your smile linger just a bit longer this time. @@.player;"I'm glad I could help too,"@@ you say, your eyes meeting hers briefly. @@.player;"It really means a lot to me that I've been welcome so easily. Maybe we can hang out more—just you and me. It's nice talking like this"@@ Jessica tilts her head slightly, surprised by your boldness, but her reaction isn't wholly dismissive. Instead, she chuckles lightly and shakes her head. @@.jessica;"You're pretty sweet,"@@ she murmurs, shifting on her feet. @@.jessica;"It's... nice of you to say that."@@ @@.player;"I mean, you've been doing so much, leading this whole group,"@@ you continue, giving her a small smile. @@.player;"You don't need to carry everything on your own, though. You've got some help now."@@ @@.jessica;"It's not that simple,"@@ Jessica says, frowning slightly at your words. She folds her arms and looks away, exhaling softly. @@.jessica;"Everyone's relying on me, I can't just let them down."@@ You instinctively step a little closer—just enough to let her feel your presence, without pushing. @@.player;"I get it. It's okay to let some things go and not carry everything alone though."@@ Jessica shifts slightly, and for a moment, you can almost feel the tension in her body. She looks back toward you, her expression unreadable for a heartbeat—then suddenly, she gives a soft smile, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. @@.jessica;"Thanks... I guess it's just good to talk to someone who gets it."@@ You smile back, but before you can respond further, she takes a step back, glancing at the rest of the group. @@.jessica;"Well, I should head back. Don't want to make them think I'm ditching them to be with you, you know?"@@ <<else>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'm glad I could help too, it's been fun,"@@ you say softly. You glance at her, your eyes lingering just a second longer than normal, and something about the moment feels different. @@.player;"I really appreciate being welcomed like I was."@@ Jessica's eyes soften as she watches you, her expression uncertain but clearly intrigued. She takes a half-step closer, tilting her head as she studies you—something about your appearance catches her attention. @@.jessica;"You look different today,"@@ she comments softly, her voice barely above a whisper. @@.jessica;"You look... like, well... You look like you belong here, like you fit in perfectly. But it's still kind of different. It's confusing, honestly."@@ You let out a soft laugh, the tension in her words easing. @@.player;"I guess I'm a bit complicated, huh?"@@ you shift slightly, tilting your head as you catch her watching you. @@.player;"But... I wouldn't mind if you want to figure me out."@@ Jessica's lips part slightly, and she looks at you for a moment longer than before, her eyes warm but cautious. @@.jessica;"Yeah, I think I'd like that a lot,"@@ she says, shifting ever so slightly closer. @@.jessica;"You're different from anyone I've ever met, and not just with how you act. It's more than that."@@ There's an unspoken tension between you two—light, but undeniable—and for a second, it feels like the world narrows to just the two of you. Her eyes linger on yours as she searches, trying to piece together her feelings. But before she can say anything else, she pulls away, taking a breath to gather herself. @@.jessica;"What am I saying, I'm being too corny, huh?"@@ Jessica says, shaking her head and forcing a laugh. @@.jessica;"Let's get back to the team now."@@ Jessica turns, starting to make her way back to the squad. Suddenly, she looks back at you over her shoulder. @@.jessica;"But... we should definitely talk more,"@@ she adds. @@.jessica;"I want to get to know you better."@@ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Of course,"@@ you say, giving her a reassuring smile and keeping your tone light. @@.player;"I'm just glad I could be a part of it, today was fun. We really kept the energy up."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, it was fun, wasn't it?'@@ she agrees, her eyes softening. She doesn't push the conversation any further, shifting slightly. @@.jessica;"We're lucky to have you. I was a little worried at first—about messing up the routine or having it all fall apart. But it worked out okay."@@ You offer a nod, keeping things light. @@.player;"i just followed your lead, so credit to you and the squad for making it work."@@ Jessica tilts her head slightly, a thankful expression on her face. @@.jessica;"Thanks,"@@ she murmurs. @@.jessica;"It means a lot that you're here helping out. You're a part of the team now."@@ Before she pulls away, she adds with a playful smirk. @@.jessica;"We should definitely hang out more once things settle down, $name. You're cool, did anyone tell you that?"@@ @@.player;"Sounds good,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Let's do that."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 12">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballnd.png"> <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You decide to head toward your squad, their laughter and high energy drawing you in like a magnet. All of you are reveling in the victory, exchanging excited chatter about the game. Jessica is at the center of it all, her energy lighting up the group. She notices you as you approach, a wide grin spreading across her face. @@.jessica;"There he is!"@@ she exclaims, her voice bright. @@.jessica;"Our lucky charm."@@ The other girls echo her sentiment with playful cheers, clapping and smiling. Jessica takes a step closer, her eyes sparkling. @@.jessica;"Seriously, $name, you crushed it out there tonight! Especially when you consider this was your first game. You were just...amazing. I told you you'd fit right in."@@ Mia nudges her and giggles. @@.girl;"Yeah, he was our secret weapon."@@ Jessica laughs and rolls her eyes. @@.jessica;"Come on, he's not a secret weapon; he's one of us,"@@ she says, winking and pulling you further into the group. @@.jessica;"You really are a part of the squad now. This is what it's all about."@@ All the cheerleaders include you in their excitement, the shared energy making you feel more like a member of the team than ever. Jessica leans in slightly, just enough to not be noticeable. @@.jessica;"I'm really glad you decided to join us,'@@ Jessica whispers. @@.jessica;"You've got a knack for this, and it's been fun having you around."@@ Even if it's just for tonight, you've found a place to belong. <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (Jessica) 1">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballn.png"> <<if $d12jordantruth is true>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for a moment, feeling the weight of the question settle between you. But something pushes you to answer honestly. @@.player;"It's me, $name,"@@ you say, your voice steady despite the nerves thrumming beneath the surface. @@.player;"I've just... been helping out."@@ For a moment, there's no reaction. Jordan blinks, his head tilting slightly as the realization sinks in. His eyes flick down to your cheerleading uniform again, this time with recognition rather than confusion. He doesn't seem shocked, just curious. @@.jordan;"Huh,"@@ he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. @@.jordan;"So it //is// you."@@ You brace yourself for a comment, maybe even a harsh one, but Jordan doesn't say anything for a moment. He just studies you with a steady gaze, his expression remaining neutral. Finally, he lets out a breath, his posture relaxing slightly. @@.jordan;"Well, that explains the voice,"@@ he says, almost to himself. @@.jordan;"I thought I recognized it. Just... didn't expect you to be out there cheering."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, it's a long story,"@@ you say, trying to laugh it off. @@.player;"I kind of ended up on the team by accident, but it's been interesting."@@ Jordan nods slowly. @@.jordan;"Interesting's one way to put it,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I didn't know you had moves like that."@@ It's almost a compliment, and it catches you off guard. You weren't expecting him to take this so casually—or to acknowledge your cheerleading skills. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you manage, unsure what else to say. @@.player;"I've, uh, been practicing a lot."@@ Jordan shrugs, letting his gaze drift to the ground for a brief second before meeting yours again. @@.jordan;"Well, you didn't embarrass yourself out there. That's more than what I can say for some people."@@ You laugh softly, unsure if he's joking or not. There's a pause, the noise of the crowd far behind you now as the two of you stand just outside the locker room. @@.jordan;"So, let me ask you this, why'd you //really// come over here?"@@ Jordan asks, his voice low but not unfriendly. @@.jordan;"Was it just to say 'good game,' or is there something else?"@@ <<button "Push and ask Jordan what's up" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (Jordan) 2">>\<<set $d12askjordan to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_ask_jordan" true "rel">><</button>> <<button "Respect his boundaries" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (Jordan) 2">>\<<set $d12askjordan to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_ask_jordan" false "rel">><</button>> <<else>>\ You pause, caught off guard by how direct Jordan is with his question. His gaze is sharp as if he's trying to solve a puzzle that doesn't quite fit together. @@.player;"Oh, I'm just new to the squad,"@@ you say with a shrug, keeping your tone light. @@.player;"Jessica asked me to fill in since they were short a cheerleader. it's been pretty fun so far."@@ Jordan narrows his eyes, and his head tilts just enough to make it clear he's not buying it. @@.jordan;"New, huh?"@@ he repeats, his voice calm but laced with skepticism. @@.jordan;"Funny, I thought I knew everyone on the cheer team. You're saying you just showed up out of nowhere and got tossed into a routine like that?"@@ You swallow, your brain scrambling for something, anything, to patch up the growing cracks in your story. @@.player;"Well, I've been practicing on my own for a bit,"@@ you offer weakly. @@.player;"Jessica said I had potential, so... she fast-tracked me for tonight."@@ Jordan fully faces you. His expression doesn't shift much—still calm—but there's an edge to it, a quiet intensity that stings more than any raised voice. @@.jordan;"Practicing on your own,"@@ he repeats slowly, as though testing the weight of your words. @@.jordan;"And Jessica, who takes cheerleading more seriously than most people take their careers, just decided to throw you in the first game of the season? Right."@@ You try to hold his gaze, but it's like staring into an open flame. @@.player;"It's really not a big deal,"@@ you say, laughing nervously. @@.player;"I'm just here to help out. That's all."@@ Jordan's lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you think he might let it slide. Instead, he exhales sharply, a short, humorless laugh escaping as he shakes his head. @@.jordan;"You're a terrible liar, you know that?"@@ Your stomach drops. Jordan doesn't look away, his piercing gaze pinning you in place. @@.jordan;"You know,"@@ he says, @@.jordan;"I can't stand it when people lie to me."@@ His words hit harder than you expect, carrying a weight that makes your throat tighten. @@.player;"It's not—I'm not lying,"@@ you stammer, trying to salvage the situation, but it's clear you're not convincing anyone. Jordan lets out a short, humorless laugh. @@.jordan;"Yeah, sure,"@@ he says, crossing his arms. @@.jordan;"Look, I get it. You've got your reasons or whatever. But if you think you can just spin me some story and I won't notice, you clearly don't know me."@@ The harshness of his words makes you flinch, but it's not just his tone—it's the undercurrent of disappointment beneath it that twists the knife. It's like he's not even angry, just... done. @@.jordan;"Here's the thing,"@@ he continues. @@.jordan;"I don't care who you are or what you're doing here. But lying? That's a waste of time—for both of us."@@ He turns away, taking a few steps toward the locker room before glancing over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. @@.jordan;"Next time, try being honest. It's a lot easier."@@ With that, he walks off, leaving you standing there, the weight of his words settling uncomfortably in your stomach. <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 12">><</button>> <</if>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballn.png"> <<if $d12askjordan is true>>\ <<if $social > 59>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You decide to push a little further, sensing there's more behind Jordan's aloof demeanor. He doesn't seem hostile, just guarded, like someone who's learned to keep his cards close to his chest. @@.player;"I mean it, Jordan,"@@ you say, your tone calm but earnest. @@.player;"You were incredible out there, yeah, but I get the feeling this isn't just about the game."@@ Jordan's eyes narrow slightly in quiet suspicion. He shifts his weight, crossing his arms again. @@.jordan;"What are you talking about?"@@ You shrug, keeping your posture relaxed and your voice light. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You just walked off, right after a huge win. Most people would be celebrating with the team, but you didn't."@@ His jaw tightens, and for a moment you think you may have pushed too far. Then he sighs, looking away. @@.jordan;"Yeah, well, not everyone needs to stick around for the pep talks and back-slapping,"@@ he mutters. @@.jordan;"Some of us have better things to do."@@ @@.player;"Better things to do, or things you're avoiding?"@@ you ask gently. Your question catches him off guard. He glances at you, his expression flickering for just a second. Whether it's surprise, frustration, or even relief, you're not sure which. But it's gone just as quickly, replaced by his usual mask. @@.jordan;"What would you even know about it?"@@ he asks, as if he's challenging you. You take a step closer, just enough to show you're not backing down while not invading his space. @@.player;"I can't say I know you, but I do know what it's like to feel the weight of expectations on your shoulders,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's not really about the game, is it? It's about what happens after. About what people say and expect."@@ Jordan's eyes meet yours, and for the first time, there's a crack in his armor. He doesn't nod or confirm anything, but his silence speaks volumes. He looks away again after a moment, letting his hands drop to his sides. @@.jordan;"You think you've got me all figured out, huh?"@@ he says. There's no venom in his words though, only a tired resignation. @@.player;"Not even,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"But I know enough to tell when someone's carrying a lot more than they should have to."@@ Jordan lets out a breath that's almost like a laugh, but its dry and humorless. @@.jordan;"It's nothing, alright?"@@ he says, but his voice wavers just enough for you to catch the lie. @@.jordan;"I'm just glad it's over. That's all."@@ He doesn't elaborate, but you can tell the wall he's built around himself are lowering just enough for you to peek over. @@.jordan;"You know, it's not that I hate football,"@@ he says suddenly, surprising even himself. @@.jordan;"I don't. It's just... when you've got people breathing down your neck all the time, telling you what you should be, what you //have// to be..."@@ He trails off, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"Let's just say winning makes things a lot easier. It keeps people off my back for a while."@@ Jordan stares at you for a long moment, his expression caught between frustration and relief. @@.jordan;"Man, I'm really out here oversharing with a cheerleader,"@@ he mutters, more to himself than you. @@.jordan;"What the hell am I doing?"@@ You don't say anything at first, letting the silence settle between you. Jordan runs a hand through his hair, and his posture stiffens again. @@.jordan;"Look, $name, just forget I said anything, alright?"@@ Jordan says, his voice a little sharper. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, his smirk faint but forced. @@.jordan;"Guess the post-game adrenaline got to me or something. Don't go thinking this means we're best friends now."@@ Before you can respond, he takes a step back toward the locker room door, his movements quick and deliberate. @@.jordan;"Anyway, thanks for the... pep talk or whatever,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I'll see you around."@@ And just like that, he's gone. Jordan disappears through the heavy locker room door without another word. The clang of it closing echoes faintly in the hallway, leaving you standing there alone. As you turn back toward the field, you can't help but wonder if this is the start of something new or if it was just a fleeting moment he'll pretend never happened. Either way, you're sure of one thing: there's a lot more to him than he lets on. <<else>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to say what's on your mind. Jordan's gaze almost feels like it's boring into you, and the words catch in your throat. But you've already decided to ask, so you take a shaky breath and dive in—awkwardly. @@.player;"Well, I mean... it's just... you always seem, uh... like, distant? Or something?"@@ you blurt out, wincing at your own phrasing. @@.player;"Like, not in a bad way! Just, you know, like... are you okay?"@@ Jordan blinks, his eyebrows raising slightly. The silence that follows is heavy and uncomfortable. You realize just how clumsy your words sound, but there's no taking them back now. @@.jordan;"What?"@@ he says, his tone flat. You scramble to clarify, your voice stumbling over itself. @@.player;"I just meant, like, you were so great out there tonight! But, uh, you kind of left right away. I just thought... maybe there's something bothering you? I'm just kind of curious."@@ Jordan stares at you, his expression unreadable, but there's an edge to his posture now—his shoulders tense and his jaw tightens. @@.jordan;"I'm fine,"@@ he says, his tone cool. You try and salvage it, panicking slightly. @@.player;"Oh, yeah, no, of course!"@@ you say, your words coming out faster than you can think. @@.player;"You see, I wasn't saying you're not fine. I was just asking if you were... Never mind. Forget I said anything."@@ The corner of Jordan's mouth twitches, but it's not a smile—it's something closer to irritation, or maybe disbelief. He exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"Look,"@@ he says firmly. @@.jordan;"I don't know what you're trying to get at, But I'm good. Really. I don't need a cheerleader trying to psychoanalyze me, alright?"@@ Your face flushes hot, and you feel like shrinking into the floor. @@.player;"Right,"@@ you mumble, wishing you could just disappear. Jordan studies you for a moment longer, and his expression softens by a fraction. @@.jordan;"Anyway... thanks for the compliment. About the game, I mean."@@ He turns and walks into the locker room, leaving you standing there, feel-ing like you just made a complete fool of yourself. As the door swings shut behind him, you let out a long breath. That did not go how you planned. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate, sensing that pushing further might not be the right move here. Jordan's body language is guarded—his arms crossed, his stance firm, and his eyes narrowed, as if he's keeping you at an arm's length away. @@.player;"No, that's it,"@@ you say, offering a small smile. @@.player;"I just wanted to say good game. You were incredible out there. I mean it."@@ There's something softer in Jordan's expression as he looks at you for a fleeting moment. Not quite a smile, but a hint of acknowledgment. He uncrosses his arms, shifting his weight slightly, and gives a curt nod. @@.jordan;"Thanks,"@@ he says simply. He keeps it brief but there's no mistaking the sincerity behind it. You take a small step back, giving him space. @@.player;"I'll let you get going then,"@@ you add. @@.player;"Probably want me to get out of your hair."@@ Jordan glances toward the doors and then back at you. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he mutters. @@.jordan;"Maybe."@@ The silence that follows isn't awkward, rather feeling like the moment is reaching it's natural end. Before you turn to leave, you catch an almost imperceptible change in his expression. His shoulders drop slightly, and his jaw isn't as tight. @@.jordan;"See you around, $name,"@@ he says, and this time, his tone isn't as cold as before. There's even the faintest hint of warmth, a quiet recognition that you'd respected his boundaries. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, stepping back with a small wave. @@.player;"See you."@@ As you walk away, you can't help but feel a little proud of yourself. Not just for making it through the game but for handling the conversation with care. Jordan might not be the most open person, but it feels like you made a connection. A small one, sure, but it's a start. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 12">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballn.png"> You decide to go after Jordan, weaving through the crowd and sidestepping the clusters of cheering fans and players. He's already halfway to the locker rooms, his pace brisk and posture stiff. The energy from the field fades as you approach him, the noise growing more distant with each step. @@.player;"Hey, Jordan!"@@ you call out, but he doesn't stop. You quicken your pace to catch up, finally falling into step beside him. He glances your way, his expression blank for a second before flicking briefly to the cheerleading uniform you have on. He squints, some curiosity in his eyes, but it's gone just as quickly as it appeared. He doesn't recognize you. @@.jordan;"What is it?"@@ he asks, his tone clipped and neutral. @@.player;"I just wanted to say, that was an amazing game,"@@ you say, keeping your voice light. @@.player;"That last play—you really pulled it off."@@ Jordan's jaw tightens, and he lets out a breath that's almost a scoff. @@.jordan;"It wasn't just me,"@@ he mutters. @@.jordan;"Luke was there too."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, but you're the quarterback,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You made the throw."@@ Jordan doesn't respond for a moment. His footsteps slow slightly as if debating whether to continue the conversation or just walk away. Finally, he stops, turning toward you. His expression is hard to read, but his sharp eyes study you, trying to place you. @@.jordan;"You're one of the cheerleaders, right?"@@ he asks, his tone still detached but tinged with a faint curiosity. @@.jordan;"I don't think I've seen you around before. Who are you?"@@ <<button "Make up a lie" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (Jordan) 1">>\<<set $d12jordantruth to false>>\<</button>> <<button "Tell Jordan the truth" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 11 (Jordan) 1">>\<<set $d12jordantruth to true>>\<</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballn.png"> You weave through the remnants of the crowd still buzzing with post-game energy, making your way back to the cheer squad. The moment the squad spots you, their faces light up. @@.jessica;"Hey, $name!"@@ Jessica exclaims, throwing her hands in the air like you just scored the winning touchdown. @@.jessica;"Can you believe it? They actually pulled it off!"@@ @@.girl;"Panthers for the win, let's go!"@@ Mia adds, pumping a fist in the air. Her energy is contagious, and you can't help but grin as the rest of the team gathers around. Ashley flips her hair over her shoulder. @@.girl;"You were on fire out there tonight, $name. I swear, your form is so good."@@ @@.girl;"Seriously,"@@ Tori chimes in, her tone approving. @@.girl;"You nailed every stunt. I don't think the crowd could take their eyes off us!"@@ You feel your face heat up at the barrage of compliments, but before you can respond, Jessica clears her throat, instantly commanding the group's attention. @@.jessica;"Alright, people! This is a historic moment—first game of the season, first win, and we crushed it. This calls for celebration!"@@ @@.girl;"Oh yeah, where should we go?"@@ Mia asks, already pulling out her phone like she's about to start texting people. @@.girl;"Somewhere fun,"@@ Ashley says. @@.girl;"After that routine, I need some food and I need something to help me relax."@@ Jessica holds up a finger, her expression thoughtful. @@.jessica;"Okay, I'm all for food, but we need somewhere chill,"@@ she says. A grin creeps up on Jessica's face. @@.jessica;"You know, my parents //are// out of town."@@ The entire cheer squad erupts in noise. @@.girl;"Actually?"@@ Mia says. @@.girl;"Jessica's place it is! Quick, before she changes her mind."@@ Jessica beams. @@.jessica;"Perfect, let's get going. $name, you're coming too, right?"@@ The group turns to you, and you can practically feel their excitement in the air. It's hard not to feel a little swept up in their enthusiasm, but you remember the choice is yours to make. <<button "Decide to head to Jessica's place" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 13">>\<<set $d12jessplace to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_hangout" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide to head home" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 13">>\<<set $d12jessplace to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_hangout" false "story">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballn.png"> <<if $d12jessplace is true>>\ You hesitate for a moment, still buzzing from the night's events. Before you can make up your mind though, Jessica leans closer, a knowing grin on her face. @@.jessica;"Come on, $name,"@@ she says, tilting her head playfully. @@.jessica;"You can't just disappear after your first big game as a cheerleader. This is a //team celebration//. We need you there!"@@ The rest of the squad murmurs in agreement, and as you glance around at their eager faces, you realize you can't refuse. Finally, you crack a smile and shrug. @@.player;"Alright, alright. I'll come."@@ The reaction is instant. @@.jessica;"Yesss!"@@ Jessica cheers. @@.girl;"I knew you'd say yes,"@@ Mia says with a grin, lightly nudging your arm. @@.girl;"Smart choice,"@@ Ashley adds. @@.girl;"You'll thank us later."@@ @@.girl;"Alright, the cheer squad at the great Jessica residence!"@@ Tori announces. Jessica claps her hands again. @@.jessica;"Okay, here's the plan. Everyone grab your stuff from the locker room, then meet in the parking lot. We'll carpool to my place."@@ <<button "Go to Jessica's house" "Day 12 - Hangout">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $top to $d12top>>\ <<set $pants to $d12pants>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>> <<set $outfit to 69>>\ You take a deep breath, glancing at the excited faces around you. As much as you want to keep the energy going though, a quiet part of you craves some time to yourself. The day has been a whirlwind—practice, the game, the adrenaline of performing. It all feels like a lot to process. @@.player;"Actually, I think I'm gonna head home,"@@ you say, offering a small smile. @@.player;"I'm wiped. Seriously."@@ Jessica's expression falters for a moment, but she recovers quickly. @@.jessica;"Oh, totally! I get it, it has been a long day. You've earned some rest."@@ @@.girl;"Next time, though, you //have// to come,"@@ Mia says. @@.girl;"We're not letting you off the hook again. That's a promise."@@ @@.girl;"We'll just drag you out of your house if we have to,"@@ Tori adds, her tone playful. @@.player;"Deal,"@@ you say with a laugh, raising your hands in mock surrender. @@.player;"Next time, for sure."@@ <<if $jessicaRelo > 49>>\ Jessica steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. @@.jessica;"Seriously, though, you were amazing today. Thanks for being a part of this—it wouldn't have been the same without you."@@ @@.girl;"Yeah, what she said,"@@ Ashley chimes in in agreement. @@.girl;"You're stuck with us now, $name. Better get used to it."@@ <</if>>\ You turn to leave, feeling a pang of warmth at their words. They're a good group, for sure, and it's clear they genuinely want you around. But as you walk away from Pacific Crest, the buzz of the crowd fading behind you, you feel a sense of relief in the quiet. <<button "Go home early" "Day 12 - 3">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src = "img/bg/school-gymd.png"> <<if $nextScene is "Day 12 - Restroom">>\ <<if $d8jessicaHelp is true>>\ When you return to the cheer squad, your heart still pounding from the hurried transformation in the restroom, all eyes turn to you. The squad, seated in a loose circle, halts their conversation mid-laugh. @@.girl;"Hey, where'd you disappear to?"@@ Mia asks, tilting her head curiously. @@.girl;"We thought you bailed on us for a second."@@ Before you can respond, Jessica steps in, her tone light but pointed. @@.jessica;"$name just needed a moment, right?"@@ she meets your gaze, her expression carefully neutral but understanding. You nod quickly, grateful for the lifeline. @@.player;"Yeah, I just needed to freshen up a bit. Didn't mean to worry anyone."@@ Mia raises an eyebrow but seems to buy it. @@.girl;"Well, good,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"You've got us all hyped up for the game—you can't just leave us hanging now."@@ Jessica shoots you a subtle look, her eyes scanning your face briefly as if checking to make sure you're okay. She gives you a small, reassuring smile before stepping back to the group. @@.jessica;"Alright, let's refocus, everyone. $name's here, and we've got a game to prep for. Let's crush it."@@ The cheerleaders quickly return to their chatter, and you can feel Jessica's quiet support lingering in the background, her awareness of the $referto a steady source of comfort. <<else>>\ When you return to the group, you immediately feel their eyes on you. @@.girl;"Woah, were'd you run off to?"@@ Mia asks, crossing her arms. @@.girl;"You were gone forever."@@ @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ Ashley adds, frowning slightly. @@.girl;"We thought you were skipping out on us or something."@@ @@.player;"I wasn't skipping,"@@ you say quickly, trying to sound casual. @@.player;"Just needed a moment to myself. That's all."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow, her expression curious. @@.jessica;"Are you alright? You seemed fine before you left."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I'm fine,"@@ you reply, waving it off. @@.player;"Just nerves, I guess. Big game and all."@@ The squad exchanges a few glances, but Mia shrugs. @@.girl;"Fair enough. Just don't disappear on us during the game, okay? We need you out there."@@ Jessica nods, her tone light as she steps in. @@.jessica;"Alright, no more mystery trips. We've got a routine to perfect, and you're a part of it, $name. Let's get back to it."@@ The group quickly shifts focus, the earlier concern fading as they dive back into their preparations. You exhale quickly, relieved that no one pressed too hard, though you can't shake the feeling that Jessica's eyes lingered on you just a little longer than the others. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 3">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-gymd.png"> <<set $top to 8>>\ <<if $d11skirt is true>>\ <<set $pants to 5>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $pants to 4>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $shoes to 1>>\ <<if $hairStyle is 0 and $hairProg > 1>>\ <<set $hairStyle to 1>>\ <<set $hairtie to $currenthairtie>>\ <</if>>\ The squad gathers around in a loose circle, some sit cross-legged on the mats while others lean against their bags. The conversation starts off light but it doesn't take long before Mia steers the topic to familiar territory. @@.girl;"Alright, you know what we haven't done in a while?"@@ she asks. @@.girl;"Talk about boys. It'll help loosen the mood before we start practicing."@@ She earns a chorus of laughs and a few groans from the group. @@.jessica;"Mia, really?"@@ Jessica says, raising an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"Can we ever go one practice without your obsession with high school's most mediocre love lives?"@@ @@.girl;"Hey,"@@ Mia fires back, sitting up straight. @@.girl;"First of all, it's called team bonding. Second of all, this isn't just about me—it's about //all// of us. That includes $name."@@ @@.jessica;"Don't drag him into this,"@@ Jessica says, her expression amused. Mia waves her off. @@.girl;"Come on, it's harmless fun. It's not like he's got anything better to do right now. It's squad bonding."@@ She turns her attention back to the group, clapping her hands. @@.girl;"Alright, let's start with the basics. On a scale of one to then, how cute is Kyle?"@@ @@.girl;"Kyle Foreman?"@@ Ashley scoffs, shaking her head. @@.girl;"Come on. He's, like, a solid five. Maybe a six on a good day, I'll give him that."@@ @@.girl;"Five?"@@ Mia gasps, clutching her chest in horror. @@.girl;"Did you //see// him in gym last week? Come on, he's got to be at least an eight."@@ @@.girl;"Okay, what about Trevor though?"@@ Tori asks. @@.girl;"He's tall, he swims, and he's got the whole 'quiet and mysterious' vibe going on. I like it."@@ @@.girl;"Trevor?"@@ Ashley says, tilting her head in thought. @@.girl;"He's not bad, I guess. But he always smells like chlorine and Old Spice. Like constantly. It's a no from me."@@ @@.girl;"Chlorine builds character,"@@ Tori whines. The conversation continues, each cheerleader throwing out names of boys from school with exaggerated praise or overly critical commentary. They laugh and tease each other, their banter lighthearted. As the conversation buzzes around her though, Jessica leans back, her smile polite but her focus clearly elsewhere. As if sensing an opportunity, Mia turns to you with a playful grin. @@.girl;"Alright, $name, your turn. Which boy has caught your eye? Don't even try to pretend you don't have an opinion."@@ The group's attention shifts to you, their faces lit with curiosity and anticipation. <<button "Luke" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 4">>\<<set $d12boy to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_crush" "luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Vincent" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 4">>\<<set $d12boy to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_crush" "vincent" "story">><</button>> <<button "Jordan" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 4">>\<<set $d12boy to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_crush" "jordan" "story">><</button>> <<button "Jessica?" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 4">>\<<set $d12boy to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_crush" "jessica" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decline to participate" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 4">>\<<set $d12boy to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_crush" "noone" "story">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-gymd.png"> <<if $d12boy is 0>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Maybe Luke?"@@ you say nervously. @@.girl;"Luke?!"@@ Mia gasps, clutching her chest in exaggerated shock. @@.girl;"He's on the football team. Wait, isn't Luke your best friend?"@@ Ashley leans in, her eyes wide with excitement. @@.girl;"Oh my God, that's adorable! He's so sweet! Like, actually sweet. Not fake-sweet like some guys."@@ @@.girl;"Right?"@@ Mia chimes in, nodding enthusiastically. @@.girl;"He's got the whole boy-next-door thing going on too. Plus, have you seen his arms? Like, wow."@@ You can't help but laugh nervously, scratching the back of your neck. @@.player;"You guys are reading into this way too much. He's just... I don't know, a solid choice, I guess."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"Solid choice is right. Luke's one of the few guys on the team who doesn't act like he's king of the school. He's decent."@@ @@.girl;"Decent?"@@ Ashley echoes, shooting Jessica a scandalized look. @@.girl;"He's perfect! If you're into him, $name, I say go for it."@@ @@.player;"Okay, //woah//,"@@ you say, holding up your hands. @@.player;"It's really not like that. I just... I don't know. You asked, and his name came to mind."@@ You get teased, but it's lighthearted and good-natured. Deep down, you can't help but feel a flicker of warmth at how highly everyone thinks of your best friend. <<elseif $d12boy is 1>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for a moment before answering, @@.player;"Vincent?"@@ The room goes quiet for a beat before Mia bursts out laughing, not out of cruelty but genuine surprise. @@.girl;"Vincent? As in the guy with the glasses who always has his nose in some sci-fi or fantasy book?"@@ Jessica tilts her head, her expression curious. @@.jessica;"Interesting choice. He's definitely... different. But I could see it. He's kind of cute in his own way."@@ @@.girl;"Wait, you know Vincent?"@@ Ashley asks, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling with interest. @@.girl;"Like, you actually talk to him?"@@ You nod, feeling a little self-conscious. @@.player;"Yeah, he's quiet but actually really nice. He doesn't really draw attention to himself though."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, Vincent isn't the type to make a big deal about himself,"@@ Jessica says with a knowing smile. @@.jessica;"He's more of a 'stay in his lane' kind of guy. But now I'm curious."@@ @@.girl;"Yeah, $name, now you've got us all intrigued,"@@ Ashley giggles. @@.girl;"Maybe we'll have to go check out this Vincent guy sometimes."@@ You laugh nervously, feeling that the spotlight is shining too brightly on you. @@.player;"It's not like that! I just think he's cool. That's all."@@ Jessica smirks but doesn't push further. @@.jessica;"Alright, we'll back off. For now."@@ <<elseif $d12boy is 2>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Maybe... Jordan?"@@ you say. As soon as you mention his name, the cheerleaders all exchange knowing glances. A few even lean in slightly, clearly intrigued by your choice. Mia's eyes sparkle with excitement as she raises an eyebrow. @@.girl;"Jordan?"@@ she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief and intrigue. @@.girl;"You really like him?"@@ Jessica smirks, leaning back slightly. @@.jessica;"Well, Jordan's... something else. He's quiet, keeps to himself, and never lets anyone near him. Definitely mysterious."@@ Ashley giggles. @@.girl;"You've got guts, $name. Most people can't even talk to him without tripping over their own words."@@ <<if $jordanRelo > 9>>\ A small smile tugs at your lips as you think back to the exchanges you've had with Jordan. He wasn't like the others—he didn't seem interested in shallow small talk. But there was something different about the way he listened. He had this calm confidence, but under that, you could sense a certain vulnerability. The cheerleaders exchange glances once again, and Jessica raises an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"You've already talked to him? How'd that go?"@@ she asks, leaning forward slightly. The others seem curious too, watching you with heightened interest. You take a breath, feeling the weight of their attention. @@.player;"It's different,"@@ you finally say, choosing your words carefully. @@.player;"He's not like anyone else I've met. There's something about him that's harder to figure out."@@ @@.jessica;"Hey, if you've already made contact, you've got a head start,"@@ Jessica says, tilting her head thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"Maybe you can be the first one to get through that shell of his."@@ <<else>>\ You glance away for a moment, unsure how to respond. You realize you haven't had any real interactions with Jordan yet. He's distant, keeps to himself, and whenever he walks by, it feels like there's this invisible barrier between him and everyone else. Jessica leans in slightly, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. @@.jessica;"Haven't talked to him yet, huh? Hmm.. well you'll get your chance soon. He's always around, especially on game days. Just remember—he doesn't give his time away easily."@@ @@.girl;"You've got to wonder what's going on behind those quiet eyes,"@@ Mia mutters. <</if>>\ As the conversation turns back to other boys, you can't shake the thought—what if Jordan //is// different, and this is your chance to find out? <<elseif $d12boy is 3>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Jessica,"@@ you blurt out. <<if $d12makeup > 0 and $transgender > 14>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ The squad bursts into laughter, but Jessica's lips curve into a soft, amused smile. Her eyes glance over you briefly, as if assessing something new—something she hadn't quite noticed before. \ <<if $d12makeup is 1>>\ The subtle hint of makeup on your face has drawn attention to your features in a way that catches her off guard. <<elseif $d12makeup is 2>>\ The full makeup on your face has transformed your features, softening your appearance. Jessica seems to be caught off guard, leaving her momentarily speechless. <</if>>\ She tilts her head slightly after a second, her gaze lingering just a second longer than it should, before clearing her throat and forcing herself to look away. @@.jessica;"Well, well,"@@ she says playfully, but with an added layer of softness to her voice. @@.jessica;"It looks like I'm not the only one feeling bold today."@@ You chuckle, raising a brow, and Jessica quickly snaps out of her momentary distraction. Her playful grin returns, but there's a subtle shift in the way she speaks—less teasing, more genuine. @@.jessica;"You know, you've got talent. Not just with the cheerleading but... with making an impression too."@@ The words hang in the air between you, and neither of you speak. @@.girl;"What does that mean, Jessica?"@@ Mia asks, smirking. @@.girl;"Yeah, Jess, what //does// that mean?"@@ Tori repeats. Jessica adjusts her ponytail, fiddling nervously, and for the first time, you catch a flicker of something unfamiliar—a nervousness she tries to hide. @@.jessica;"All I'm saying is I didn't expect $name to join us like this. $name's just different. In a good way."@@ You feel your heart flutter slightly at the unintended compliment, and Jessica seems to realize it too. She shakes her head, a little frustrated with herself. @@.jessica;"Sorry, I didn't mean it in that way,"@@ she says, taking a deep breath to calm herself. @@.jessica;"I just mean you have potential, $name. More than just someone who shows up and blends in."@@ Before the squad can speak, Jessica raises a hand, cutting them off with a sharp glare. @@.jessica;"Not now, guys,"@@ she says, her tone making a clear indication to drop it. @@.jessica;"I'm just saying... he's gonna fit right in."@@ <<else>>\ As the squad bursts into laughter at your bold statement, Jessica's eyes briefly widen in surprise, though she quickly recovers. The laughter dies down, and Jessica's gaze shifts toward you with a playful smirk. Her eyes narrow slightly, as if sizing you up—part curious, part amused. @@.jessica;"Really, $name?"@@ she teases, crossing her arms lightly over her chest. @@.jessica;"Me?"@@ Mia lets out a soft giggle, leaning toward Jessica with a raised brow. @@.girl;"Oh my God, $name. You've got guts."@@ Jessica laughs softly, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"Alright, alright, I'll bite,"@@ she says, her eyes glimmering with amusement. She straightens up a bit, letting her tone take on a lighter edge. @@.jessica;"Jessica, huh? Why would you choose me though?"@@ The squad exchanges amused glances, clearly enjoying the playful jab. @@.girl;"Well, $name's got good taste,"@@ Ashley says. @@.girl;"You //are// pretty popular."@@ Jessica waves her hand dismissively, the playful smile never leaving her lips. @@.jessica;"Popular, sure. But I'm the team captain. I've got enough on my plate without having to deal with //that// kind of attention."@@ You catch a subtle flicker in her eyes that doesn't quite add up with her otherwise carefree demeanor. For a second, she seems almost thoughtful, but then she shakes it off. @@.jessica;"Thanks for the laugh though. You've got a good sense of humor."@@ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You shake your head with a soft laugh. @@.player;"I think I'll sit this one out."@@ Mia pouts dramatically, leaning across the bench with exaggerated disappointment. @@.girl;"Oh come //on//, $name! Don't leave us hanging. Everyone's gotta have someone they've got their eye on."@@ Ashley chimes in, wagging her finger playfully. @@.girl;"Yeah, no fair keeping your crushes to yourself. We're a squad now, spill!"@@ Jessica glances at you and rolls her eyes at the others, though her smile is soft. @@.jessica;"Leave him alone, guys. Not everyone wants to air their personal business during a gossip session."@@ @@.girl;"Ugh, fine,"@@ Mia says, throwing up her hands. @@.girl;"But you're seriously missing out. This is quality bonding time right here."@@ Ashley laughs and nudges Mia. @@.girl;"Let the guy off the hook, drama queen. Not everyone's as obsessed with matchmaking as you."@@ The conversation shifts smoothly back to the other girls as they resume, dissecting the latest crushes and hallway rumors with a contagious energy. Jessica leans back in her seat, her gaze lingering on you for just a moment. There's something comforting about the fact that she stepped in to take the heat off you, a subtle but supportive gesture. You sit back, letting the chatter wash over you. There's something nice about being part of this group, even if you're not diving headfirst into their antics. For a moment, you just enjoy the warm camaraderie, glad they're including you even when you choose to stay on the sidelines. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 5">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-gymd.png"> Once the makeup and gossip sessions get wrapped up, the cheerleaders move to the center of the gym, where a set of mats has been laid out for practice. The air buzzes with anticipation, the energy of game day already coursing through everyone. Jessica takes her spot at the front of the group, clapping her hands to gather everyone's attention. @@.jessica;"Alright, squad!"@@ she begins. @@.jessica;"We've got some time before the game, so let's make it count. We'll start with a quick run-through of the cheers and then work on formations for the stunts. And remember, tonight we're performing under the lights, so keep that energy high!"@@ You follow the group as they form two lines, joining in the synchronized warmup routine. The stretches and light cardio feel familiar after the last practice, but the added excitement of the game adds a little bounce to your step. Mia pairs up with you for partner stretches, chatting as you both reach for your toes. @@.girl;"You're a natural, $name,"@@ she says with a grin. @@.girl;"Honestly, it's like you've been cheering for years."@@ @@.player;"Just trying to keep up with you,"@@ you joke, feeling a mix of pride and slight embarrassment at the compliment. Once everyone is warmed up, Jessica leads the squad through a series of cheers. The cadence of the chants fill the gym, and you quickly fall into a rhythm, your movements sharp and confident. With every shout, stomp, and compliment, your confidence only grows. Next come the stunts. Jessica divides everyone into groups, pairing you with Mia, Ashley, and Tori for a simple pyramid. You plant your feet firmly, locking your arms as Mia steps into your grip to be lifted into position. Even as a base, it's exhilarating to feel the coordination and trust among your group, with every movement syncing perfectly. @@.jessica;"Great job, $name!"@@ Jessica calls out as she circles the mats, keeping a watchful eye on everyone. @@.jessica;"That's solid!"@@ The last practice drill is a short routine combining jumps, spins, and a final pose. Jessica counts off the steps, and you move in sync with the rest of the squad. When the routine ends with a sharp clap and a posed formation, everyone bursts into cheers. @@.girl;"That was awesome!"@@ Mia says, giving you a high-five. @@.jessica;"You're ready for tonight,"@@ Jessica says with a smile. @@.jessica;"We all are. Let's bring that energy to the field."@@ The sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished gym floor is suddenly joined by the brisk, purposeful steps of Coach Moore. A tall woman with an athletic build and a commanding presence, she strides toward the group, her clipboard tucked under one arm. Her short hair and sharp gaze give her an air of authority. @@.girl;"Alright, team,"@@ she calls out, clapping her hands together to gather the squad's attention. @@.girl;"Tonight's the big game, and I want to see you all bringing your A-game out there."@@ @@.jessica;"Oh, Coach, you're here early!"@@ Jessica says, panic starting to build in her voice as she looks at you. As Coach Moore's eyes scan the group, they land on you. Her brows knit slightly in confusion, her eyes narrowing. She takes a few steps closer, pointing the pen in your direction. @@.girl;"And who's this?"@@ she asks, glancing at Jessica. @@.girl;"How'd you manage to recruit another cheerleader last minute?"@@ Jessica freezes for a moment, somehow caught off guard. She opens her mouth, but no words come out as she looks at you, faltering under pressure. Coach Moore raises an eyebrow, her gaze shifting back to you. @@.girl;"Well? I don't believe we've met. What's your name?"@@ The squad is silent, their eyes flicking between you and Jessica, waiting to see how this would play out. <<button "Tell Coach Moore the truth" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 6">>\<<set $d12coachmoore to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_tell_coach_moore" "tell her the truth" "story">><</button>> <<button "Pretend to be a girl" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 6">>\<<set $d12coachmoore to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_tell_coach_moore" "pretend to be a girl" "story">><</button>> <<button "Stay silent and let Jessica handle it" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 6">>\<<set $d12coachmoore to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_tell_coach_moore" "jessica handle it" "story">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-gymd.png"> <<if $d12coachmoore is 0>>\ You take a breath, feeling the squad's eyes on you as you step forward. Jessica's nervous glance sharpens into something unreadable, but you catch a flicker of gratitude in her expression. @@.player;"My name's $name,"@@ you say, your voice steady but quiet. @@.player;"But, uh, I'm not actually a girl."@@ Coach Moore's eyebrows shoot up, and the gym seems to grow quieter, though it's probably just in your head. She glances at Jessica and then back at you, her clipboard lowering to her side. @@.girl;"You're not a girl?"@@ she repeats, her tone neither judgmental nor overly surprised. You shake your head, standing a little straighter. @@.player;"No, I'm just helping out with the squad because they're short on people,"@@ you begin. You pause, swallowing nervously. @@.player;"I went to practice yesterday, and they thought I could fill in. I know it's not, uh, typical, but I'm willing to work hard for the team tonight."@@ Jessica takes a step forward, her hands clasped in front of her like she's about to plead her case. @@.jessica;"Coach, I know it's technically not allowed, but it's only for tonight,"@@ she interjects, her tone unusually earnest. @@.jessica;"We're down a cheerleader, and $name stepped up. He's good—really good."@@ Coach Moore looks you up and down, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to figure out how you fit into this picture. She taps her pen against her clipboard a few times, then lets out a sigh. @@.girl;"I'll admit, this is unconventional,"@@ she says slowly, her voice measured. @@.girl;"But I'll be honest with you—this team doesn't have room for mistakes right now. If Jessica says you're good, then I'll take her word for it. I expect you to perform like any other member of this squad though. No holding back."@@ @@.player;"Understood,"@@ you reply, nodding. @@.girl;"Oh, and $name, you've got big shoes to fill tonight,"@@ she adds, a small but knowing smile forming on her lips. @@.girl;"But from what I know about this squad, they wouldn't have you here if they didn't think you could handle it."@@ Jesica exhales audibly, a grin breaking across her face as she pats your shoulder. The tension in the room eases as the squad exchanges a few encouraging murmurs. <<elseif $d12coachmoore is 1>>\ <<set $textbox to true>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender - 5, 0, 100)>>\ The tension in the air is palpable as Coach Moore's expectant gaze lingers on you. For a split second, you consider coming clean, but something about Jessica's worried expression makes you hesitate. The weight of the coach's question hangs in the air, and you realize Jessica is waiting for you to respond, her subtle nod urging you to say something. Anything. A name. You need a name. Something feminine, something believable. Names flicker through your mind in rapid succession. Emily? No, too common. Sophia? Maybe, but it doesn't feel quite right. Lily? That's your sister's name, dumbass. Charlotte? Grace? Olivia? The pressure builds as the seconds stretch on, Jessica's faintly panicked expression urging you to decide quickly. Finally, a name surfaces, like a lifeline thrown into the chaos. You hesitate only for a second before opening your mouth. @@.player;"Hi coach, I'm <<textbox "$cheerleadername" "Ellie">>."@@ <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ This will not be your permanent feminine name! There will be another textbox in the future regarding what feminine name you want to keep for the rest of the playthrough. </div>\ <<else>>\ <<set $cheerleadername to "Ellie">>\ You glance at Jessica, unsure of what to say, and decide to stay quiet. Jessica catches your look and straightens up, putting on her best confident smile—the one she always uses when she's in charge. @@.jessica;"Coach, this is... Ellie,"@@ Jessica says, the name tumbling out of her mouth with only the slightest hesitation. @@.jessica;"She's, uh, a friend of mine. I know we're short on a cheerleader because of Mandy going to Iowa, so I thought I'd bring her along. Ellie's really talented and has been dying to give cheer a try."@@ Coach Moore raises an eyebrow, skepticism flickering in her sharp eyes. @@.girl;"Ellie, huh? And you've been practicing with the squad?"@@ Jessica nods vigorously, stepping slightly in front of you. @@.jessica;"Absolutely! She's been helping out a lot, especially with some of the tougher routines. You know how hard it's been to get everyone synced up—Ellie's a natural!"@@ The coach tilts her head, studying you for a moment longer. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you manage to keep a poker face, trying to look as composed as possible. Finally, Coach Moore lets out a short breath and nods. @@.girl;"Well, if she's as good as you say, I guess we'll see it tonight,"@@ she says, jotting something down on her clipboard. @@.jessica;"That was close,"@@ Jessica whispers to you. @@.jessica;"Sorry about the name—Ellie was the first thing that popped into my head. I'll stick with it for now."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 7">><</button>>

<<if $d12coachmoore is 1>>\ <<set $textbox to false>>\ <<if $cheerleadername is "Jessica">>\ Jessica's head snaps toward you so fast you're surprised she doesn't pull a muscle. Her eyes widen, her lips part slightly, and she seems completely caught off guard. @@.jessica;"Jessica?"@@ she blurts out, barely containing her incredulous laugh. <</if>>\ Coach Moore tilts her head, a slight smile spreading across her face. @@.girl;"Well, it's nice to meet you, $cheerleadername. You must've really impressed Jessica to get invited here last minute."@@ Her tone is welcoming but slightly amused. Almost as if this sort of thing happens more often than one might expect. Jessica laughs nervously, her hand lightly gripping your arm. @@.jessica;"Oh, totally. She's, uh, been interested in cheer for a while. With Mandy heading off to Iowa, I thought, why not give her a shot? You know, to see how she fits in."@@ Coach Moore raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not pressing the issue. @@.girl;"Alright, fair enough. But next time, Jess, let me know if you're bringing in a recruit. I need to have my rosters finalized before game day."@@ @@.jessica;"Yes, of course, Coach,"@@ Jessica nods eagerly. @@.jessica;"Won't happen again."@@ As Coach Moore's attention shifts to the other cheerleaders setting up for practice, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Jessica leans in, her voice low and hurried. @@.jessica;"Nice save. That could've gone way worse."@@ You nod, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through you. @@.player;"Yeah, thanks for backing me up."@@ Jessica smirks. @@.jessica;"No problem, $cheerleadername. I think it suits you, by the way."@@ <</if>>\ The tension from the interaction with Coach Moore lingers briefly, but the team quickly refocuses on their warmups, each cheerleader throwing themselves into the final drills with practiced precision. The energy in the gym crackles with anticipation, a shared buzz of excitement for the first game of the season. As the clock ticks down to game time, the squad huddles together near the entrance to the football field. The muffled roar of the growing crowd outside drifts through the walls. Jessica steps forward, holding her hands up to gather everyone's attention. @@.jessica;"Alright, listen up!"@@ she calls out, her voice carrying over the low murmur of the team. Everyone falls silent, turning their focus to her. Jessica looks around, her gaze holding steady. @@.jessica;"Tonight's our first game, and I know for some of you, it's your first time performing in front of a crowd this big. Trust me, I get it—it's nerve-wracking as all hell. But let me tell you something: you've got this. //We've// got this."@@ She gestures toward the field, her face lighting up in determination. @@.jessica;"The crowd is here to see the game, but you know what they'll remember? Us. Our energy. Our routines. Our smiles. So, let's give them a reason to cheer louder than ever. Let's show them what we've each been working so hard for."@@ Jessica pauses, her expression softening as she looks at each member of the squad. When her gaze lands on you, it lingers just a moment longer, a flicker of encouragement passing between you. @@.jessica;"No matter what happens out there, remember this: we're a team. We've got each other's backs. So, let's go out there and have fun, alright?"@@ The squad erupts into cheers, their collective energy filling the room. Jessica steps back, giving you a quick smile before turning to lead the squad toward the field. As the team lines up to head out, you take a deep breath, the adrenaline building in your chest. The muffled roar of the crowd grows louder as the door to the field swings open, and the night air rushes in. <<button "It's time to perform" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 8">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballnd.png"> The field stretches out before you. It's bathed in a glow of stadium lights, casting everything in a kind of surreal light. The stands are already packed with students and parents, their excited chatter merging into a low hum that reverberates through the air. The energy is so thick you can feel it. You breathe in the faint scent of popcorn and fresh-cut grass, trying to calm your nerves. You stand among the other cheerleaders, feeling the warmth of their bodies close to yours, the rhythmic shifting of their movements syncing into a single pulse. The crowd grows even louder, cheering for their teams, and the sound sends a thrill racing through you. It's strange but exhilarating, and you feel you've never quite experienced this before. Jessica steps to the front after you all get into position, her voice ringing out clearly. @@.jessica;"Alright, team!"@@ she yells. @@.jessica;"Let's show them what we've got!"@@ The cheerleaders fall into formation as you all move with precision and fluidity. The choreography is sharp, practiced, yet filled with energy—each movement timed perfectly, each step flowing into the next with seamless grace. You follow their lead, your heart pounding in your chest as nerves tangle in your stomach. You try to settle into the rhythm, but every movement feels unfamiliar and awkward at first. Your body hesitates and you can't help but feel exposed under the lights. The music blares in your ears, and your fingers tremble slightly as you keep in sync with the rest of the squad. It's a challenge to let your movements feel natural when your pulse is racing. The sensation of being dressed the way you are not making it any easier to focus. You fight to keep your footing, hoping you don't make a mistake. The crowd's eyes begin to turn toward you. They cheer louder, drawn in by your motions, the vibrant color of the uniforms, and the sheer energy radiating from the squad. As you follow the other cheerleaders through the routine, you feel the adrenaline continue to build. There's a thrill to this, a certain rush you didn't expect. Your nervousness melts away as the energy of the crowd, the spotlight, and the sound of your teammates take up your mind. It's exhilarating. Empowering. Suddenly, you realize you've fallen into the rhythm so naturally, almost instinctively. Each jump, each spin, flows together as if it's second nature. You're no longer just a part of the team on paper—you're //performing// now. You're giving everything you have, feeling the crowd's energy feed into your own. The routine ends with one final pose, and the crowd erupts into cheers, the sound washing over the field like waves of excitement. You take a deep breath, standing tall with your teammates, basking in the collective triumph. For now, all that matters is this moment. This team. This feeling. <<button "Rest" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 9">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballnd.png"> You all move gracefully to the sidelines, taking your places just a few feet from the action. The stadium is filled with a sea of cheering fans, all gathered to watch the first game of the season. The air buzzes with excitement, a mix of the bright lights above, the sound of the marching band playing, and the rhythmic stomp of feet from the football players. As you take your place, you overhear a small group of boys nearby, huddled together with their eyes occasionally flicking in your direction. One of them leans closer to the other, his voice low but clear. <<if $d12makeup is 0>>\ @@.boy;"Hey, did you see that new cheerleader? The Asian one with the black hair? Looks kinda cool."@@ Another boy snickers. @@.boy;"I mean, she's okay, but nothing special."@@ @@.boy;"Yeah, I guess,"@@ the first boy says. @@.boy;"I think she's alright."@@ You overhear their conversation and feel a subtle pang of discomfort—unseen, but felt, a reminder of how you still seem to blur between two worlds. <<elseif $d12makeup is 1>>\ @@.boy;"That new cheerleader... kind of cute, right?"@@ Another laughs softly, shaking his head. @@.boy;"Nah, looks alright, I guess. She's kinda pretty."@@ <<else>>\ @@.boy;"Damn, who's that? She's super pretty."@@ Another one snickers, clearly impressed. @@.boy;"Yeah, wow. She's flawless, definitely rocking it."@@ The words linger in your mind, impossible to ignore. <</if>>\ The players take their positions, lining up as the referee blows the whistle, signaling the start of the game. The crowd roars, a wave of energy that rolls across the field, bouncing from person to person. Your heart pounds in sync with the chants rising from the stands. The cheerleaders have fanned out around you, each of them settling into their spots. The game begins, the ball snapped and hurled down the field as players charge forward. The tension of the field is palpable, the players clashing with intensity, muscles flexing. The crowd erupts into cheers with every pass, tackle, and touchdown. You watch, cheering alongside the squad, feeling the energy build with each movement, each action on the field. The game moves fast and the players push themselves harder, sweat glistening on their brows under the floodlights, determined to secure every inch of ground. The score is 14 - 21, with the Pacific Crest Panthers being down by 7 as the halftime buzzer blares through the field. The cheerleaders spring into action, ready to reinvigorate not only the fans but the team as well. The stands buzz with a mix of excitement and anticipation as fans sip drinks, eat snacks, chat, and wave school colors. You position yourself at the edge of the group, blending into the rhythm as the routine begins. You start with a series of powerful jumps and your body moves through them effortlessly. The squad's chants rise in tempo, building with each beat, and the energy from the crowd feeds into your own. You follow the lead of Jessica, her voice ringing clear as she guides the squad through each set. The group moves through flowing moves, stunts, and a pyramid. As the routine comes to a close, the crowd erupts into cheers, the sound echoing through the stadium. The Panthers are trailing, sure, but you all managed to fire the squad up again. As the final notes of the band fade away, the cheerleaders break apart, each member dispersing, heading back to the sidelines. You feel a sense of accomplishment—knowing you've played a part in rallying the school spirit. The halftime routine truly cemented your place as a part of the team. <<button "Watch the rest of the game" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 10">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-gymd.png"> The final bell rings at 3:00 PM, its echo cutting through the usual hum of students shuffling out of classrooms. You pack your things and head toward the gym, your bag slung over your shoulder. The cheer squad is meeting early to prepare for the game, and the thought of stepping onto the field for the first time sends a mix of nerves and excitement through your chest. The gym is quieter than usual when you arrive, though the faint sounds of sneakers squeaking and muffled laughter drift from the back room. You push open the door to find the squad already buzzing with energy. Jessica is at the center of it all, organizing uniforms. Mia and Ashley sort through a small box of makeup supplies. @@.jessica;"$name!"@@ Jessica calls, spotting you immediately. She waves you over with a bright smile. @@.jessica;"You're just in time. We're getting everyone game-day ready—uniforms, hair, makeup, the whole deal. You excited?"@@ @@.player;"I guess, yeah,"@@ you reply, setting your backpack down. @@.player;"A little nervous, though."@@ @@.girl;"Don't be,"@@ Mia says, looking up from the makeup box with a playful grin. @@.girl;"You're going to kill it out there. And we've got just the thing to help—makeup!"@@ You blink, caught off guard. @@.player;"Makeup?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yep,"@@ Jessica says matter-of-factly. @@.jessica;"It's not just for looks. The lights on the field are super bright, and makeup helps keep you from looking washed out in photos and videos. Plus, it'll make you look cuter and harder to recognize. Win-win."@@ Mia claps her hands together, her excitement palpable. @@.girl;"Exactly! It's nothing crazy—just some foundation, a little eyeliner, maybe some gloss. It'll totally pull your look together."@@ You glance at the box of makeup, feeling a mix of curiosity and hesitation. The cheerleaders are all looking at you expectantly, their energy infectious. @@.jessica;"It's up to you, though,"@@ Jessica adds, her tone reassuring. @@.jessica;"No pressure, of course. If you don't want it, it's totally fine. But if you're willing to try, I think you'll be surprised by how good it'll look. Not to mention, if you're feeling bold, we could even go full glam. I mean, why not, right?"@@ <<button "Decide on no makeup" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 1">>\<<set $d12makeup to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_makeup" "none" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide on basic makeup" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 1">>\<<set $d12makeup to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_makeup" "basic" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide on full makeup" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 1">>\<<set $d12makeup to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D12_cheer_makeup" "full" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d12snack is 0>>\ You glance at the menu one last time before deciding. @@.player;"I'll take the popcorn."@@ Samantha nods. @@.samantha;"A little basic, but I'll allow it because it's a classic."@@ You get a large paper bag filled with freshly popped kernels, the buttery scent overwhelming. You take a bite and it's warm, salty, and crunchy. Perfect. @@.samantha;"Okay, real talk,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Did you ever wonder how they get popcorn to taste //so much better// in movie theaters and stadiums than at home?"@@ @@.player;"They probably just put a ton of butter,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"Yeah, but scientifically and culinarily, I think there's more to it. Like I've made popcorn at home, and it never hits quite the same way. i think there's some kind of secret ingredient they're not telling us about."@@ You snort. @@.player;"You think there's a conspiracy behind popcorn?"@@ @@.samantha;"Listen,"@@ she says, lowering her voice dramatically. @@.samantha;"I'm just saying that I wouldn't put it past Big Popcorn to be hiding the truth from us."@@ <<elseif $d12snack is 1>>\ You glance at the menu and make your decision. @@.player;"A hot dog for me, please."@@ Samantha lets out a gasp, clutching her chest like you just insulted her. @@.samantha;"$name. A glizzy? Out of all the things on the menu?"@@ You shrug, unbothered. @@.player;"It's a classic, what do you mean?"@@ She shakes her head. @@.samantha;"I don't know, man. Feels kinda basic to me."@@ @@.player;"Basic?"@@ you scoff. @@.player;"You're getting a pretzel. How is that any less basic?"@@ @@.samantha;"Hey, a stadium pretzel is an experience,"@@ she argues. @@.samantha;"It's warm, salty, and comes with cheese sauce too. Meanwhile, your hot dog is, like, one step above gas station food. Do you even know what part of a pig it comes from? No, you don't. Because the sausage is a meat obelisk from like a hundred pigs."@@ <<elseif $d12snack is 2>>\ You glance over the menu one last time before making your decision. @@.player;"I'll go with the nachos."@@ Samantha grins like you've just earned her respect. @@.samantha;"Excellent choice, young grasshopper. Messy, cheesy, and completely impractical for a football game. I approve."@@ The girl at the stand nods and turns to scoop up a generous amount of tortilla chips into a red-and-white paper tray before drowning them in cheese. You're about to tell her that's enough, but she adds an extra ladle just for good measure. Then, with an unnecessary flourish, she sprinkles on some jalapeños. Samantha snickers at your face. @@.samantha;"Hope you're ready for the experience of a lifetime, because those jalapeños don't mess around."@@ @@.player;"We'll see,"@@ you say, grabbing a couple of napkins. With your nachos secured, Samantha picks up her order You pick up a chip and take a bite and it's an... experience. The jalapeño is spicy as all hell, and you find yourself coughing. Samantha lets out a loud laugh. @@.samantha;"Oh no, I told you they were spicy."@@ You swallow and clear your throat, determined not to give her the satisfaction of seeing you suffer. @@.player;"I'm fine,"@@ you say, voice only slightly strained. @@.samantha;"Uh-huh,"@@ Samantha says, clearly enjoying this way too much. @@.samantha;"I won't make fun of you if you start crying. I swear. You can let those tears out."@@ <<elseif $d12snack is 3>>\ You glance over the options before your eyes land on something that immediately calls to you—the warm, cinnamon-dusted perfection of a churro. @@.player;"I'll take a churro,"@@ you say to the girl working at the stand. Samantha turns to you slowly. @@.samantha;"A churro?"@@ she repeats, approval clear in her voice. @@.samantha;"$name. //$name//. I didn't think I could respect you more, but here we are."@@ You roll your eyes as the girl hands you the churro, still warm from the fryer. The sugary scent fills your nose, and when you take your first bite, the crispy outer layer gives way to the doughy center. The cinnamon and sugar coat your tongue, leading to an explosion in flavor. @@.samantha;"Yeah?"@@ Samantha asks as she watches your reaction. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, swallowing. @@.samantha;"What a relief,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"I would've disowned you as a friend if you went for something basic."@@ @@.player;"You literally just got a pretzel,"@@ you observe. @@.samantha;"Excuse me, it's a //giant// pretzel,"@@ she corrects. @@.samantha;"It's about the vibe. And right now, let me tell you, your vibe is immaculate."@@ <</if>>\ The two of you make your way out of the concession line and toward the bleachers. The crowd has grown even bigger in the short time you've been here and many students are filling the stands. Samantha nudges you, nodding toward a group of your peers waving someone over. @@.samantha;"Looks like the hype section's already filling up. Where are we sitting?"@@ <<button "Sit near the front" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 2">>\<<set $d12sit to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_location" "front" "story">><</button>> <<button "Hang near the back" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 2">>\<<set $d12sit to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_location" "back" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d12bench is true>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You make your way over to Luke's bench and sit down beside him. He doesn't react at first, just staring up at the sky like he's searching for an answer in the stars. His usual easy smile is gone, replaced by something heavier. For a moment, neither of you say anything. The wind rustles through the trees, carrying the distant sound of cars on the main road and the occasional murmur of Samantha talking to herself on the other bench. Then, finally, Luke exhales and drops his head forward, resting his elbows on his knees. @@.luke;"Fuck,"@@ he mutters. @@.luke;"That sucked."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a humorless chuckle. @@.luke;"I thought we had it, you know? I really did. That last play—I saw the ball, I knew I could get it, and then... It was gone. Just like that."@@ @@.player;"You were so close though, it was barely tipped."@@ Luke huffs. @@.luke;"Barely, yeah, but we still lost."@@ He looks down, picking at the tape still wrapped around his fingers. @@.luke;"I just wanted this win. For the team. For the school. For everyone who showed up to watch. I didn't want to let anyone down."@@ There it is. You don't need to say anything to know how much that thought is eating at him. Luke's always been the kind of guy who carries everyone else—on the field, in the hallways, and in life. He makes people laugh when they need it. He hypes up his teammates, even when he's struggling himself. He's good. You know that. A genuinely good guy in a world that doesn't have enough of them. And right now, he feels like he failed. Another breeze drifts through the park. Luke leans back, looking up at the sky again, his expression unreadable. @@.luke;"I know it's just one game,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"And I know we've got the rest of the season ahead of us. But still. I just hate this feeling."@@ His voice is quiet. Defeated in a way you don't usually hear from him. You could try to reassure him and tell him he didn't let anyone down. That no one blames him. Or maybe now isn't the time for words—maybe he just needs someone to sit here with him and remind him he's not alone. <<button "Reassure him" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 11">>\<<set $d12reassureluke to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_luke_reassure" true "rel">><</button>> <<button "Stay silent" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 11">>\<<set $d12reassureluke to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_luke_reassure" false "rel">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You walk over to Samantha's bench and drop down beside her. She doesn't look at you at first, but after a few seconds, she lets out a long sigh. @@.samantha;"$name, do you ever think about how weird benches are?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"Benches?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ she gestures vaguely. @@.samantha;"Like, they're just there. Everywhere. Parks, schools, outside of grocery stores. But no one really thinks about them. They're just there. They're just... benches."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Is that really what you're thinking about right now?"@@ @@.samantha;"Why? Would you rather I give a soul-crushing monologue about the human condition and the fragility of existence?"@@ You chuckle and shake your head, then lean against the bench. A moment passes in silence, the two of you just existing in the same space. But eventually, you turn your head slightly. @@.player;"You know, I've known you for years, but sometimes I feel like I know almost nothing about you."@@ Samantha doesn't move. Doesn't flinch. But something in the air shifts, just barely. @@.samantha;"Wow,"@@ she says, dragging out the word. @@.samantha;"That's not dramatic or anything."@@ @@.player;"I mean it."@@ You sit up a little, glancing at her. @@.player;"I know you're sarcastic. I know you like to mess with people. I know you drink too much soda and think that there's a big difference between doing things ironically and unironically. But I don't know anything real. Like where'd you grow up? Do you have any siblings? What's your favorite memory? Why do you never let anyone get too close?"@@ The last one slips out before you can stop yourself. Samantha is quiet for a little too long. Then, finally, she snorts and leans back again, throwing her arms over the back of the bench. @@.samantha;"Look, some people are open books. Others are mystery novels with missing pages."@@ @@.player;"That's not an answer."@@ She sighs, her gaze locked on the sky. @@.samantha;"$name, let me ask you something."@@ @@.player;"...Okay?"@@ @@.samantha;"What if you did know everything? What if you knew every little thing about me—where I grew up, what makes me tick, all the messy stuff?"@@ She tilts her head slightly, but she doesn't look at you. @@.samantha;"What if you did, and you didn't like what you found?"@@ Something about the way she says it doesn't sit right with you. She's not dodging the question. It's more like she's already thought about the answer and decided it's better left unsaid. You open your mouth, about to say something, but she beats you to it. @@.samantha;"Anyway,"@@ she says, her usual teasing tone creeping back in. @@.samantha;"It's cute that you're curious, but I promise you, my backstory isn't that exciting. No secret twin, no long-lost fortune, no ancient prophecy."@@ She flashes you a grin, but it's not as sharp as usual. <<button "Push her to open up" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 11">>\<<set $d12pushsamnantha to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_push_sam" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Let it go for now" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 11">>\<<set $d12pushsamnantha to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_push_sam" false "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d12bench is true>>\ <<if $d12reassureluke is true>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You lean forward, resting your arms on your knees, and glance at Luke. He's still staring up at the sky, lost in his own head. You're not sure if he'll even listen, but you speak anyway. @@.player;"You didn't let anyone down, you know."@@ Luke doesn't react at first, just exhaling slowly. His fingers pull at the tape around his knuckles absentmindedly. @@.luke;"Tell that to the scoreboard."@@ @@.player;"The scoreboard doesn't tell the whole story though,"@@ you counter. @@.player;"It doesn't show how many times you fought for extra yards. How many times did you get open, and how many times did you help push the team down the field? It doesn't show how much effort you put into this."@@ Luke lets out a dry chuckle. @@.luke;"Yeah, well... effort doesn't win games either."@@ @@.player;"Maybe not, but it does matter,"@@ you say. @@.player;"And no one out there blames you for this. No one thinks you failed them."@@ He tilts his head, shooting you a skeptical look. @@.luke;"You sure about that?"@@ @@.player;"I guarantee it,"@@ you say firmly. @@.player;"Do you really think anyone in that crowd is walking home going, 'Wow, I can't believe Luke lost us that game'?"@@ Luke lets out a quiet laugh and shakes his head. @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Because we all saw that you played your ass off and gave it everything. Sure, the catch didn't happen, but it was so close. That's just how football is sometimes, right?"@@ Luke rubs his hands over his face, letting out another breath. Some of the tension in his shoulders eases, even if its just a little. @@.luke;"I just wanted to give everyone something to celebrate."@@ @@.player;"Well, you did,"@@ you insist. @@.player;"People are still talking about the game. They're talking about the plays you did make, not just the one that didn't go our way. The school's still proud of the team. They're still proud of you."@@ <<if $lukeRomance > 9>>\ Luke doesn't answer right away, but you can tell he's letting your words sink in. He stares out at the empty playground, fingers drumming against his knee, the weight in his expression not completely gone but definitely lighter. Then, instead of looking out at the night, he looks at you. And he holds your gaze a little longer than he normally would. It's not like before when he was just listening. His gaze lingers, searching, like he's seeing something he hadn't noticed before. The usual easy, joking Luke you've gotten so used to isn't here—there's something more raw in his eyes. @@.luke;"You always this good at pep talks, $name?"@@ he asks. You smirk. @@.player;"Only for those who deserve them."@@ His smile lingers and he looks down for a second before looking back up at you. There's something in his eyes you swear wasn't there before. @@.luke;"Sometimes, I don't know what I'd do without you,"@@ he admits quietly. It's a simple sentence, but it lands, and it lands hard. A slow warmth spreads through your chest, and for a moment, the night doesn't feel so cold. Your shoulders brush against each other, barely noticeable, but neither of you pulls away. Luke swallows, hesitating for a second longer, then looks at the stars once again. he doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't have to. The air between you is different now—something unspoken settling there, something neither of you are quite ready to name. But it's there. And that's enough. <<else>>\ Luke doesn't answer right away, but you can tell he's letting your words sink in. He stares out at the empty playground for a few seconds before exhaling. @@.luke;"You always this good at pep talks, $name?"@@ he asks. You smirk. @@.player;"Only for those who deserve them."@@ Luke snorts. @@.luke;"Hey, I guess I'll take it."@@ You nudge him lightly with your elbow. @@.player;"Good. Now stop beating yourself up over this and enjoy the night. We don't get many like this."@@ He looks at you. Really looks at you. And after a moment, he nods. @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ he murmurs. @@.luke;"You're right."@@ The loss still stings, and it will sting for a while. You can see it in the way his jaw tightens. But the sadness isn't as heavy anymore. He'll be okay. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. And that's enough. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You don't say anything. You think about saying something, but something about the way he's sitting, shoulders slumped and hands loosely clasped between his knees, tells you that words won't really help right now. So instead, you just stay. Luke doesn't look at you, but he doesn't move away either. He just keeps staring at the sky, his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. The weight of the game is still there, hanging like a dark cloud in the air between you. But somehow, it doesn't feel as bad as it did a minute ago. Luke exhales, running a hand over his face before letting it drop to his lap. His fingers drum idly against his knee like he's working through thoughts he can't quite put into words. But he doesn't look nearly as tense anymore. Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, he speaks. @@.luke;"Thanks for sitting with me."@@ It's simple, but there's something raw in his voice that tells you he needed this. Not a pep talk or forced positivity. Just someone beside him that understands. You nod, letting your own shoulders relax. @@.player;"Anytime."@@ Neither of you move for a while. You just sit there, letting the night pass, letting the loss settle, letting it become something that won't sting so badly in the morning. And the feeling Luke has, the feeling that he let everyone down, won't go away immediately—but at least he doesn't have to carry it alone. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d12pushsamnantha is true>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You don't let her brush it off. Not this time. Instead of laughing or rolling with her deflection like you usually would, you sit up and lean forward. @@.player;"Samantha."@@ She hesitates for half a second before sighing dramatically. @@.samantha;"What are you going to say, $name?"@@ @@.player;"I mean what I said. I want to know you—the real you. Not just the sarcasm and deflections. You don't have to tell me everything, but I need you to know that... whatever it is, I'm not going anywhere."@@ She exhales through her nose, staring at the ground. She's quiet for a long moment, maybe the longest she's ever been quiet around you. Her foot taps against the wood chips and her fingers drum against the back of the bench. They're tiny, restless movements like she's trying to shake something off. @@.samantha;"It's not that simple,"@@ she mutters, barely above a whisper. @@.player;"Why not?"@@ Samantha bites the inside of her cheek like she's debating something internally. For a second, you think she might say something real, something honest. @@.samantha;"Because, $name,"@@ she says, forcing a smirk. @@.samantha;"I'm an enigma. A mystery. A beautiful, unknowable force of nature. If I just start revealing things, what am I even bringing to the friendship?"@@ You don't laugh. @@.player;"Samantha."@@ She shifts uncomfortably. @@.samantha;"Look, what if you knew me, and I wasn't what you thought?"@@ @@.player;"That's not going to happen."@@ @@.samantha;"You say that //now//—"@@ @@.player;"No, I mean it,"@@ you say, turning toward her fully now. Finally, finally, she meets your eyes. @@.player;"You're my best friend, Samantha. You always have been. And nothing's gonna change that. I promise."@@ Her expression falters as she searches your face, looking for some kind of lie or catch. But you just hold her gaze, steady and sure. Samantha swallows, letting out a tired laugh. @@.samantha;"Damn it, $name,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"I hate it when you do that."@@ @@.player;"Do what?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.samantha;"That thing where you say something and you actually mean it.'@@ Your lips twitch. @@.player;"It's called being honest. I'm a genuine person."@@ @@.samantha;"Well, it's annoying."@@ She throws her hands up in surrender before speaking. @@.samantha;"Fine. You want something real? Something deep and personal?"@@ You nod. @@.samantha;"Okay, here it is,"@@ she says, leaning in slightly. @@.samantha;"I hate mint chocolate chip ice cream."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, your eyebrows knitting. @@.samantha;"It tastes like toothpaste!"@@ she shudders. @@.samantha;"Actual, literal toothpaste."@@ You stare at her, unimpressed. @@.player;"Seriously?"@@ @@.samantha;"Hey, you said you wanted to know me,"@@ she says, an actual grin lighting up her face. You groan, rubbing your hands down your face. @@.player;"Ugh, I hate you."@@ @@.samantha;"No, you don't."@@ You know there's still so much underneath the surface, but you're glad she let you get closer tonight, even if it was just a little. <<else>>\ You watch Samantha for a moment, and there's something about the way she keeps her gaze fixed upward, avoiding your eyes. The smirk is still there, the teasing tone still in her voice, but now that you've noticed that wall, you can't unsee it. She's daring you to push. Waiting for you to ask a question. Maybe even expecting you to. But you don't. You let out a small breath and lean back, looking up at the sky with her. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, keeping your voice light. @@.player;"I'll drop it."@@ Samantha blinks. @@.samantha;"Wow. That easy, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"When you're ready, you'll tell me. Or you won't. Either way, I'm still here."@@ She doesn't responded right away. She just tilts her head slightly, studying you out of the corner of her eye. Her smirk is gone now, but for once, she doesn't try to cover the silence with a quip. She just sits with you, and maybe that's enough. Samantha exhales, then swings her legs back and forth to shake off the stillness. @@.samantha;"Anyway,"@@ she says, voice back to normal. @@.samantha;"I think we can both agree that sitting on benches in empty parks at night makes us look like weirdos."@@ @@.player;"A little bit, yeah,"@@ you chuckle. @@.samantha;"Should we start making profound statements about life?"@@ she asks. She clears her throat dramatically. @@.samantha;"Time is a river, $name. Ever flowing. Ever changing."@@ You shake your head and laugh. @@.player;"That was terrible."@@ @@.samantha;"Well, then how about you take a shot at it?"@@ You roll your eyes, but play along. @@.player;"Even the smallest moments can be the ones we remember the most."@@ @@.samantha;"Alright, that was pretty good. But also, nerd alert."@@ You nudge her lightly with your elbow. @@.player;"You literally started it."@@ @@.samantha;"And yet, I will suffer no consequences."@@ She leans back, letting the conversation drift into something lighter and easier. You don't push or pry. But maybe she'll remember this and know that you're waiting for her whenever she's ready. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Finish up after a long day" "Day 12 - 3">><</button>>

<<if $d12sit is true>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You scan the bleachers, searching for a good spot. The section is packed, especially toward the front, where the loudest fans have already claimed their territory. The whole place is buzzing—painted faces, homemade signs, and students hyping each other up like this is the Super Bowl. @@.samantha;"Okay, so slight problem,"@@ Samantha mutters beside you, shielding her eyes as she looks over the crowd. @@.samantha;"All the good seats are taken."@@ You frown, searching for an opening. She's right—every front-row spot is crammed with students draped in Pacific Crest's school colors, already chanting. Except for one spot. Your eyes land on a nearly empty stretch of bench, right near the fifty-yard line. Prime viewing real estate. But there's a reason no one is sitting there. Aurora. She's perched near the edge of the section, her legs crossed, completely unbothered by the chaos around her. Dressed in her usual dark clothes, she looks like she wandered out of a different world and accidentally ended up at a high school football game. Her long, black-painted nails tap lazily against the aluminum bench as she watches the field with an unreadable expression. Nobody dares sit near her. There are rumors about Aurora. That she practices witchcraft. That she can see your future just by looking at you. That she once made a guy puke just by whispering something in his ear. Most people keep their distance, which is why the seats next to her are completely empty. Samantha follows your gaze and lets out a low whistle. @@.samantha;"Oof. Well. There's always standing room, right?"@@ You glance back at the packed stand, where the only other option is squeezing between a group of sweaty guys yelling about how many yards Jordan can throw. You look back at the perfectly open seats next to Aurora. @@.player;"...It's just a seat,"@@ you say, already making your way down the bleachers. Samantha sputters. @@.samantha;"Wait, you're actually—$name!"@@ She groans but follows after you. You reach the empty bench and hesitate for a second before sitting down. Samantha plops down beside you, her posture stiff, like she's waiting for a ghost to appear. Aurora doesn't react at first. She simply blinks, slowly turning her head toward you. You meet her gaze, staring at her dark purple eyes. @@.aurora;"Brave,"@@ she murmurs, tilting her head slightly. You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"For sitting?"@@ A slow, knowing smile spreads across her face. @@.aurora;"For sitting //here//."@@ Samantha clears her throat awkwardly. @@.samantha;"Um. We can move if—"@@ Aurora lifts a finger, silencing her with a small, amused shake of her head. @@.aurora;"There's no need, Samantha,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You've made your choice."@@ There's something eerie about the way she says it, but before you can figure out what she means, Samantha leans in and whispers. @@.samantha;"Okay, if I get turned into a rat or something, I just want you to know this is your fault."@@ You smirk but don't answer, eyes flicking toward Aurora again. There's something about her that makes you curious. Something you can't quite put your finger on. For some reason though, you get the feeling that she knew you'd sit here before you even did. <<button "Make small talk with Aurora" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 3">>\<<set $d12talkaurora to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_talk_aurora" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Just ignore Aurora" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 3">>\<<set $d12talkaurora to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_talk_aurora" false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You scan the packed bleachers, trying to find an open spot. The front rows are a lost cause—completely filled with screaming fans. You nod toward the higher rows. @@.player;"Let's head to the back. There's more space up there."@@ Samantha wrinkles her nose. @@.samantha;"Ugh, you mean the section where people pretend to watch the game while they're actually on their phones?"@@ @@.player;"Hey, it's either that or standing the entire time."@@ She sighs but follows as you weave your way up the steps toward the top of the bleachers. The atmosphere shifts the higher you go—less frantic energy, more casual conversation. The students up here aren't decked out in the school colors or yelling. Instead, they're relaxing, chatting, or vaguely paying attention. And that's when you spot him. Vincent. He's sitting a few rows from the very top, his posture a little stiff, but he looks around with wide, eager eyes, taking in the entire field like he's observing an alien planet. His hoodie is slightly oversized, the sleeves bunched around his hands as he fidgets with the strap of his backpack. A small notebook is balanced on his knee and a pencil is tucked behind his ear. The moment he spots you, his face lights up. @@.vincent;"$name!"@@ he waves enthusiastically, then gestures to the open seats beside him. @@.vincent;"Hey! Over here!"@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Vincent? //Vincent// is at a football game? What, did the chess club get lost on the way to a tournament?"@@ You shake your head, grinning, and make your way over. @@.player;"Hey, Vinny. Didn't expect to see you here."@@ He beams, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. @@.vincent;"I know, right? This isn't my usual scene. But I figured, you know, new school year, new experiences. Maybe if I actually understood football, I could make more friends."@@ Samantha plops down beside you, eyeing Vincent's notebook. @@.samantha;"Please don't tell me you're taking notes on the game."@@ Vincent huffs. @@.vincent;"It helps me remember things! I was watching some highlight reels earlier, and I think I have the basics down now. But there are still some things I don't get. Like—why is it called a 'safety' if it gives the //other// team points? I don't know about you, but to me, that seems incredibly misleading."@@ You can't help but laugh, finding his antics endearing. @@.player;"Yeah, football rules are kinda weird."@@ @@.vincent;"Right? And don't even get me started on the terminology,"@@ Vincent continues. @@.vincent;"I was looking up plays earlier, and apparently, there's something called a 'hook and ladder'? That's not a play, that's a firefighting apparatus!"@@ Samantha snorts, taking a sip of her soda. @@.samantha;"You know what, I'm officially glad we sat here."@@ Vincent grins. @@.vincent;"See? My plan is already working. I'm learning and I'm making friends!"@@ As the game gets ready to start, the three of you settle into your seats. Vincent flips open his notebook, pencil at the ready. @@.vincent;"Alright, $name, be my guide. Teach me the ways of football."@@ Samantha leans back, an amused smirk on her face. @@.samantha;"Oh, this is gonna be good."@@ <<button "Give half-serious, half-joking answers" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 3">>\<<set $d12trollvincent to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_troll_vincent" true "story">><</button>> <<if $athleticism < 60>>\ <<button "Ask Samantha to explain the rules" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 3">>\<<set $d12trollvincent to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_troll_vincent" true "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Patiently explain the rules" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 3">>\<<set $d12trollvincent to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_troll_vincent" true "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

<<if $d12sit is true>>\ <<if $d12talkaurora is true>>\ You shift slightly in your seat, sneaking another glance at Aurora. She's watching the field, but there's something off about the way she does it—like she's studying it instead of just watching. Her dark eyes flick across the field, taking in every detail, but there's no emotion on her face. No excitement. No tension. Just observation. You clear your throat. @@.player;"Didn't think you were the football type."@@ Aurora doesn't turn her head, but her lips curl into the faintest smirk. @@.aurora;"I'm not."@@ You wait a few beats for her to elaborate, but she doesn't. @@.player;"So, you just love sitting in cold metal bleachers for fun?"@@ you try again, hoping to get more than just a cryptic response. At that, she does turn to look at you. Her gaze is calm but heavy, like she's seeing past you, not just at you. @@.aurora;"There are worse places to be."@@ You frown. @@.player;"That doesn't really answer my question, does it?"@@ Aurora tilts her head slightly, her smirk deepening. It's almost as if she's enjoying this. @@.aurora;"Maybe your question wasn't the right one."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Okay, what would be the right question?"@@ She considers your words, tapping her black-painted nails against the bench. @@.aurora;"Maybe something like... 'Why am I really here?'"@@ You hesitate. Something about the way she says those words sends a chill down your spine. @@.player;"Alright. Why are you really here?"@@ Aurora exhales slowly, turning her gaze back to the field. @@.aurora;"Because this place is interesting."@@ @@.player;"Interesting how?"@@ She doesn't answer right away. Then, she softly murmurs, @@.aurora;"Something isn't quite right at Pacific Crest."@@ Your stomach tightens. @@.player;"What does that mean?"@@ She finally looks back at you again, but her gaze is much sharper. Then she smiles—not a warm smile, but something knowing, something almost amused. @@.aurora;"I think you already know, $name."@@ The way she says your name sends a shiver down your spine. When you glance back at her though, Aurora is already watching the field again, like the conversation never happened. <<else>>\ Samantha shifts beside you, arms crossed tightly over her chest. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ she mutters under her breath. @@.samantha;"I have one question."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ She turns her head slowly, eyes narrowed. @@.samantha;"Why in the hell did we sit here?"@@ @@.player;"Because the rest of the front was full?"@@ Samantha gestures—not subtly—toward Aurora, who sits beside you. She's completely unbothered by the noise of the game, sitting as still as a statue. @@.samantha;"Yes, but we could've sat anywhere else. Anywhere would've been better than the one open spot next to the omen of doom over there."@@ Aurora doesn't react. She just watches the game, fingers tapping idly against the metal bench. Samantha leans in. @@.samantha;"Seriously, $name,"@@ she whispers. @@.samantha;"Do you //want// to get hexed?"@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"She's not gonna hex us."@@ @@.samantha;"Uh-huh,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Tell that to Jeremy. He sat next to her last year, and you know what happened? He broke his legs two days later. Coincidence? I think not."@@ @@.player;"Well, I think he just tripped over his own feet."@@ Samantha scoffs. @@.samantha;"Maybe that's what she wants you to think."@@ You sigh, turning back to the game, trying to ignore her dramatics. But out of the corner of your eye, you catch Aurora's lips curve into the faintest smirk. She definitely heard everything. And she's definitely enjoying it. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d12trollvincent is true>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at Vincent, who's staring at the field with an intense focus, his pencil hovering over his notebook. You exchange a quick look with Samantha, and without a word, you both silently agree that this is too good of an opportunity to pass up. @@.player;"Alright, look here, Vincent,"@@ you say, keeping your tone serious. @@.player;"The first thing you need to know is that football is //way// more complicated than it seems. And it seems complicated enough. It's not just about scoring points—it's about outsmarting the enemy."@@ Vincent nods eagerly, scribbling in his notebook. @@.vincent;"Right. Outsmarting. Got it."@@ @@.player;"You already know about touchdowns, but what you don't know is that teams actually get bonus points for the best touchdown celebration."@@ Vincent pauses. @@.vincent;"Wait, what?"@@ You nod solemnly. @@.player;"Yeah, that's why players do all those dance moves after they score. The flashier the celebration, the more points they get. But there are rules—if two players sync their dances, that's an automatic extra point. And if the whole team joins in? Hell, that's a secret double-touchdown bonus."@@ Vincent's eyes widen as he furiously writes down the information you're feeding him. @@.vincent;"So—that means if someone scores, and then everyone starts dancing, they can, theoretically speaking, double their score."@@ @@.player;"Exactly, you got it,"@@ you say, keeping a straight face. @@.player;"It's called the 'Rhythm Rule.'"@@ Samantha snorts into her drink but covers it up with a cough. @@.vincent;"That makes a lot of sense,"@@ Vincent mumbles, nodding as he jots it down. @@.vincent;"What else?"@@ You tap your chin, pretending to think deeply. @@.player;"Alright, here's an important one. You know how there's offense and defense? Well, there's actually a secret third unit."@@ Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"...Secret unit?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. It's called the Stealth Team. They wear identical uniforms to blend in, but their actual job is to mess with the other team. They untie shoelaces, whisper fake play calls, and hide the football in their jerseys."@@ @@.vincent;"Come on, that can't be real,"@@ Vincent says, skepticism lacing his voice. You sigh and shake your head. @@.player;"That's what they //want// you to think, Vinny. If they were obvious, it wouldn't be a stealth team, would it?"@@ Samantha is shaking with silent laughter. @@.player;"There's one last thing,"@@ you say, deciding to go all in. @@.player;"See that referee down there? He's not actually officiating. He's a decoy ref, planted by the NFL to secretly scout for high school players with elite potential. If a player impresses him, they automatically get a draft offer."@@ Vincent gasps. @@.vincent;"WHAT?"@@ @@.player;"Yep, but they don't announce it right away. The chosen players just finds a golden ticket in their locker after the game. Kind of like //Charlie and the Chocolate Factory//."@@ @@.vincent;"That's insane,"@@ Vincent stares at the field, looking genuinely stunned. @@.vincent;"I didn't know high school football was this deep."@@ You and Samantha are barely holding it together, and Vincent's eyes dart from his notebook to the football players. @@.vincent;"Wait,"@@ he mutters, flipping through his notes. Panic starts creeping into his expression. @@.vincent;"They're not... they're not warming up with dances... And—where's the Stealth Team? Shouldn't they be blending in by now?"@@ Samantha can't hold it in anymore. She bursts out laughing, nearly dropping her soda. Vincent slowly turns to you, realization dawning. @@.vincent;"You lied to me."@@ You crack a grin. @@.player;"I may have exaggerated just a little."@@ Vincent's jaw drops. He looks down at his notebook, where he has ''Rhythm Rule'', ''Stealth Team'', and ''Golden Ticket Referee'' written in meticulous cursive. His shoulders slump and when he finally looks up at you, his expression isn't playful or annoyed. It's just... hurt. @@.vincent;"You //lied// to me,"@@ he repeats, quieter this time. His voice is just soft. Disappointed. The laughter that had been bubbling in your chest dies instantly. Samantha, who had been wiping away a tear of amusement, notices the shift too. She glances between you and Vincent, her smirk fading. Vincent looks down at his notebook. @@.vincent;"I really thought I was learning something,"@@ he murmurs. @@.vincent;"I thought... I don't know. Maybe if I actually understood the game, people wouldn't just see me as the nerd who's always out of place."@@ A hollow feeling settles in your stomach. @@.vincent;"I thought if I tried hard enough, I could actually fit in for once,"@@ Vincent continues. @@.vincent;"I trusted you to help me, $name."@@ You open your mouth, but no words come out. The worst part is that he's not yelling. He's not calling you out or making a big deal out of it. He just sounds exhausted. Like this isn't the first time someone's treated him like a joke. The background noise of the game, the cheering, the announcer's voice—it all fades for a second. All you can focus on is Vincent, sitting there with his notebook full of fake rules, realizing that he'd just been made a fool of. @@.vincent;"I guess I should've known,"@@ he says, voice barely above a whisper. @@.vincent;"It was kind of stupid to think I could be a part of this, wasn't it?"@@ He starts flipping to a blank page as if erasing everything will make it hurt less. And suddenly, you feel awful for making Vincent feel like an outsider all over again. <<else>>\ <<if $athleticism < 60>>\ You hesitate, realizing that you don't actually know much about football yourself. You kind of get the general idea—score points, run fast, don't get tackled—but the finer details elude you. Vincent watches you expectantly, his pencil poised over his notebook like he's ready to absorb your knowledge. @@.player;"So... uh..."@@ You rub the back of your neck, glancing at the field as if answers might magically appear. @@.player;"Basically, they try to get the ball to the other side, and, um... there's a lot of running?"@@ Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"Okay. And...?"@@ Samantha snorts beside you. @@.samantha;"Oh my //God//, $name, that was pathetic."@@ You sigh. @@.player;"Yeah, sorry, I got nothing."@@ Samantha cracks her knuckles. @@.samantha;"Alright, step aside, amateur. I will be your football guru tonight."@@ Vincent perks up immediately. @@.vincent;"Yes! Teach me, Sensei."@@ Samantha launches into an explanation—far more detailed, animated, and occasionally laced with sarcasm. She gestures wildly as she talks, using her massive pretzel as a stand-in for the ball at one point, and even reenacts a quarterback pass (which nearly knocks over Vincent's notebook). Vincent hangs onto every word, occasionally gasping in awe. @@.vincent;"Wait, that's what a down is? That actually makes so much sense."@@ @@.samantha;"It's all just controlled chaos,"@@ Samantha says, clearly pleased with herself. Vincent looks at her like she just told him the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. @@.vincent;"Samantha, you are a //treasure// to this world."@@ She winks. @@.samantha;"I know."@@ You shake your head, amused. You may not have been able to help, but watching Samantha dramatically educate Vincent on football was amazing to see. <<else>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a deep breath and start explaining the basics of football to Vincent—positions, downs, scoring, all the stuff that makes the game make sense. He listens with all the intensity of someone studying for a final exam, nodding along, his pencil furiously scratching across his notebook. Every so often, he murmurs little responses like, @@.vincent;"Ohh, okay, so //that's// how they do that,"@@ or @@.vincent;"Wait, that actually makes so much sense now!"@@ His eyes light up with every new piece of information, and he looks genuinely thrilled to finally be understanding the sport. At one point, he pauses, staring down at his notes with a soft gasp. @@.vincent;"$name,"@@ he says, voice filled with wonder, @@.vincent;"I think... I think I //get// it."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ He nods excitedly. @@.vincent;"It's like... a strategy game, but with a ball! And tackling!"@@ He looks at the field, his gaze full of new appreciation. @@.vincent;"This is so much cooler now that I understand what's happening."@@ Samantha watches him, shaking her head with a smirk. @@.samantha;"I swear, you're like a little scientist who just discovered fire."@@ Vincent is unable to hide his grin as he adjusts his glasses. @@.vincent;"Football is way more interesting than I thought it'd be. Thanks, $name. You're, like, the best teacher ever."@@ His enthusiasm is so genuine, so utterly //Vincent//, that you can't help but smile. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Watch the cheerleaders" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 4">><</button>>

<<if $d11practiceAttend is true>>\ As the football players finish their warm-ups and retreat to the sidelines, the stadium lights beam down on the field, illuminating the cheer squad as they step into position at the center. The crowd hums with anticipation, students leaning forward in their seats, waiting for the pre-game show to begin. You watch from the bleachers and even from your seat, you can tell Jessica is all business. The rest of the squad mirrors her energy, feeding off her determination. You recognize parts of the routine, the same ones you had given advice on after school. You're not an expert, not even close, but you'd helped them adjust some transitions, given suggestions on where they could hit cleaner angles, and pointed out a few awkward moments that even you could tell weren't working. Now, as they move into their first sequence, you can see the effect of those adjustments. The timing is sharper and the formations are cleaner. When they hit their first major stunt, the crowd lets out a collective cheer. The flyer lands perfectly, the bases catching her with solid grips before she bounces back into formation. Jessica claps her hands together in rhythm, leading the team into the next section. The movements are crisp and the choreography flows well. You catch a few moments where the spacing is slightly off, but to most of the audience, it probably looks seamless. But you know Jessica. And you can tell by the way her jaw tightens for just a moment that she notices every tiny mistake. The cheerleaders transition into the final sequence, a mix of tumbling and jumps designed to get the crowd hyped. A few of them land their tumbling passes perfectly, but one girl stumbles slightly. Jessica doesn't falter—her smile stays fixed and her energy stays unwavering—but you see it. The way she pushes harder, the way her movements become even sharper. It's as if she's trying to will the team to perfection through the sheer force of her determination. They finish strong, hitting their final pose with precision as the crowd erupts in cheers. From the outside, it looks like a success. The students around you are clapping, but when you glance back at Jessica, you can see the frustration simmering beneath the surface. <<else>>\ The stadium is buzzing with excitement as the pre-game show kicks off. The announcer's voice cackles over the speakers, hyping up the crowd as the cheer squad rushes onto the field, their pom-poms shaking in unison. But even from the stands, something feels... off. Jessica leads the squad, her usual confidence still there, but it's dimmer, strained. You can see it in the way she moves—her smile a little too tight, her motions just a little too rushed. It's as if she's desperately trying to keep everything together. The routine starts, and almost immediately, things go wrong. Their timing is off. The formations don't line up properly, with some girls stepping too soon and others scrambling to catch up. A few of the jumps look messy, landing with stumbles. It's not //terrible//, but it's far from the polished performance the crowd expected from Jessica. Then comes the stunts. Jessica positions herself at the front of a formation, setting up a pyramid. But as the flyers go up, one of them wobbles—a misstep in the base's grip. There's a sharp intake of breath from just about everyone, and while the girl doesn't fall completely, her landing is sloppy. Jessica's jaw tightens. She claps her hands, trying to rally the team back into rhythm, but you can tell she's struggling to hold it all together. She throws herself into the final moves, trying to make up for the earlier mistakes, but her usual spark just isn't quite there. By the time the routine ends, there's an awkward pause before the crowd starts clapping. It's polite, almost out of pity. Certainly not the roaring applause the cheerleaders are probably used to. Jessica turns back to her squad, clapping and offering forced smiles, but the effort is paper-thin. Up close, the stadium lights catch the tension in her face—the way her jaw tightens, the way her eyes dart from one teammate to the next, searching for reassurance and finding none. No one is meeting her gaze. The other girls look exhausted, disappointed, and frustrated. A few of them mutter to each other as they pick up their pom-poms, their expressions unreadable but unmistakeably distant. One girl sighs heavily, rubbing her forehead. Another shrugs, shaking her head before jogging off the field without a word. Jessica's hands tremble just slightly as she lowers them to her sides. Her breathing is shallow, and even from where you are, you can see the way her chest rises and falls too quickly—like someone barely holding it together. The polite applause from the crowd has already died down. People are talking, distracted, already moving on like the performance was nothing more than a forgettable pre-show warm-up. Her eyes flick toward where the students are sitting. Some people are whispering. A few look unimpressed. Some of the football players aren't even trying to be subtle. They're chuckling about something, and one of them even mimics a wobbly stunt with his hand before laughing. No one cares that she just poured everything she had into that routine, that she tried too ''fucking'' hard to make it work. Jessica swallows, blinking rapidly as she brushes a stray hair from her face. But the movement is too quick, too stiff—like she's trying to distract herself. She turns toward the sideline, biting her lip so hard it turns white. And then, just for a second—so quick you almost miss it— her expression cracks. Her shoulders hunch ever so slightly. Her fingers curl into the fabric of her skirt as she grips it tight. Her lower lip quivers before she presses her mouth into a thin line, forcing herself to swallow whatever's threatening to escape. Tears. She's this close to crying in front of the entire school. But she doesn't. Instead, she straightens, rolls her shoulders back, and wipes at her face under the guise of adjusting her ponytail. Then, she turns sharply and jogs off the field. Her movements are stiff, it's as if she knows that she might break down completely if she lets herself slow down. And just like that, she's gone, swallowed up by the crowd of cheerleaders moving toward the sidelines. <</if>>\ <<button "Watch the game" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 5">><</button>>

<<if $d12sit is true>>\ The stadium is ''alive''. The crowd roars as the game kicks off, a wave of excitement surging through the stands. People are on their feet, screaming, waving signs, and throwing their hands up. The school band blasts a triumphant tune as the players explode into action. You're right in the middle of it, sitting in the front row. Right next to the Aurora Rowan. And she hasn't moved an inch. While the rest of the students are shouting and reacting, Aurora just watches, her gaze locked onto the field like she's studying something the rest of you can't see. Her posture is eerily still and you're not even sure if she's blinking. Samantha, on the other hand, is not relaxed. @@.samantha;"$name,"@@ she hisses. @@.samantha;"I don't like this."@@ @@.player;"You don't like football?"@@ you ask, knowing that's not what she means. @@.samantha;"I don't like sitting next to her."@@ She cuts her eyes toward Aurora, who doesn't acknowledge either of you. @@.samantha;"She's just... sitting there! Not cheering, not reacting, just staring."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Maybe she just likes watching the game, Samantha."@@ Samantha scoffs. @@.samantha;"She's not watching the game. She's analyzing it like it's some kind of ancient prophecy."@@ You glance at Aurora again. She's still perfectly composed, her eyes flicking over the field as she tracks every movement. She doesn't flinch when players slam into each other or react when the crowd explodes. It's like she already knows what's going to happen before it does. Samantha leans in close. @@.samantha;"You owe me for this,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"Just so you know, if anything happens to me, I'm haunting your fucking house."@@ Aurora finally moves. She tilts her head in Samantha's direction, lips curving into the faintest of smirks. She definitely heard that. Samantha immediately stiffens. @@.samantha;"Come on,"@@ she mutters. You fight back a choice, turning back to the game as the next play begins. You don't know how the night's going to go, but one thing is for sure—sitting here was not the boring choice. <<else>>\ The game kicks off with a roar from the crowd, but up in the back rows of the bleachers, the energy is a little different. In stark contrast to the front-row students chanting and waving signs, the back section is more relaxed—people chatting, scrolling, or half-watching while munching on snacks. Vincent, however, is fully locked in. He leans forward in his seat, his eyes flicking between the field and his notebook, where he's already scribbling down observations. @@.vincent;"Okay, I //think// I understand formations,"@@ he mutters. @@.vincent;"I am so ready for this."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"You say that like you're about to step onto the field."@@ @@.vincent;"I am stepping onto the field—intellectually."@@ He taps his temple. @@.vincent;"I have trained. I have studied. And now, I will witness the great and noble sport of football... in action."@@ Samantha, sprawled out on the bleachers, snorts. @@.samantha;"You're such a dork, Vincent."@@ @@.vincent;"Thank you."@@ The game starts, and for a few minutes, Vincent is completely absorbed, eyes darting between players. He hums under his breath, nodding ot himself every so often. @@.vincent;"Oh my God,"@@ Vincent suddenly blurts out, sitting up straight. @@.vincent;"They're chasing him!"@@ You blink. @@.player;"Yeah, that's kind of the point of this sport."@@ @@.vincent;"No, but look! The guy with the ball—he's fleeing for his life!"@@ Vincent grips your arm, eyes wide. @@.vincent;"It's like... the Battle of Agincourt! The English longbowmen break the French charge, and now he's the lone knight retreating, trying to reach his own lines before the enemy cuts him down!"@@ Samantha raise an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Vincent. That's just a breakaway run."@@ @@.vincent;"A breakaway run of destiny,"@@ he corrects. You shake your head. @@.player;"Vincent, I like this too, but you make this sound way more dramatic than it is."@@ @@.vincent;"Because it is dramatic!"@@ he says, gesturing wildly to the field. @@.vincent;"These warriors are putting their bodies, and brains, on the line for honor, victory, and school spirit!"@@ Samantha leans toward you, whispering. @@.samantha;"He's seriously a few minutes away from starting a soliloquy."@@ You snicker. The game continues, and Vincent's reactions only get better. He cheers at random moments, completely ignoring whether the rest of the crowd is reacting. At one point, when a player from the opposing team fumbles, Vincent gasps so loudly that people stare. @@.vincent;"This is great,"@@ he whispers. @@.vincent;"The unpredictability. The stakes. The raw, primal energy of the crowd—"@@ @@.samantha;"Dude,"@@ Samantha interrupts. @@.samantha;"You have no idea what's going on, do you?"@@ Vincent's expression goes blank for a second before he coughs awkwardly. @@.vincent;"Not a clue."@@ You burst out laughing, and even Samantha grins. @@.vincent;"Okay, but I //am// getting some of it!"@@ Vincent insists, jabbing his pencil at his notebook. @@.vincent;"For example, I understand what a down is now. And the quarterback is basically the field general, don't you think? Strategizing, adjusting formations, reading the defense—kind of like Napoleon at Austerlitz, except with less cavalry."@@ By halftime, he slams the notebook shut and lets out a satisfied sigh. @@.vincent;"Alright. I'm officially a football guy now."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"You literally just said you had no idea what was happening."@@ @@.vincent;"That doesn't matter."@@ He waves a hand dismissively. @@.vincent;"It's about the spirit."@@ You shake your head and laugh, but honestly? Sitting back here with Vincent and Samantha, the game playing out below—it's the most fun you've had at a football game in a long time. <</if>>\ <<button "The game winds down" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 6">><</button>>

<<if $d12sit is true>>\ The scoreboard flashes ''Pacific Crest 27, Riverview 30''—just three points down. the Panthers have one last show. You're all buzzing with anticipation, every single person either on their feet or gripping their seat like their life depends on it. Samantha is leaning forward, elbows on her knees. @@.samantha;"This is it,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"The final play. Everything is on the line."@@ In stark contrast to her, Aurora is completely still. Her hands are folded neatly in her lap and she's watching with her usual unreadable expression. She hasn't cheered once this entire game—not at a touchdown, not at a big hit, not at anything. It's like she's studying something deeper. Right now, though, you don't have time to dwell on it. The final play is happening. Luke, sprinting down the sideline, shakes his defender and gets open. The quarterback, Jordan, sees him. The ball is launched into the air, spiraling perfectly against the bright stadium lights. The entire crowd holds its breath. You hear Samantha whisper. @@.samantha;"Come on, come on, come on—"@@ The ball drops. Luke stretches out his hands— And a Riverview defender leaps, knocking it away at the last second. The collective gasp from the crowd is deafening. The clock hits zero. Game over. For a second, there's silence. Then, the Riverview players all erupt onto the field to celebrate. Pacific Crest's sideline stays still—some players have their hands on their helmets while some just stare at the scoreboard with a blank expression. Samantha lets out a strangled noise of frustration. @@.samantha;"Are you kidding me?!"@@ She slumps back against the bleachers, covering her face with both hands. @@.samantha;"Damn it, that was right there! I can't believe we lost like that."@@ You exhale and run a hand through your hair. It hurts—being so close, only for it to slip away at the last second. Aurora, as par for the course, doesn't react like a normal person. She simply hums, tilting her head slightly. Samantha sits up sharply and points at her. @@.samantha;"Okay, don't you dare sit there and hum like you knew that was going to happen."@@ Aurora's lips curve slightly. @@.aurora;"The outcome was inevitable."@@ Samantha throws her hands in the air. @@.samantha;"Oh, that's comforting, thanks."@@ Samantha groans and pulls you up by the arm. @@.samantha;"Come on. We should at least go find Luke and tell him he doesn't totally suck."@@ You nod, but as you walk away, you steal one last glance at Aurora. She doesn't move. She just watches. <<else>>\ The fourth quarter winds down, and the tension in the stadium has reached it's peak. The scoreboard flashes its cruel numbers under the stadium lights: ''Pacific Crest 27, Riverview 30''—just three points down. There's barely any time left, but the Panthers have the ball, and the entire crowd is on edge. Vincent is gripping his notebook so tightly it's starting to crumple. @@.vincent;"This is it,"@@ he mutters. @@.vincent;"The final charge. The Battle of Hastings. The Alamo. The—"@@ @@.samantha;"Vincent,"@@ Samantha interrupts. @@.samantha;"Not now."@@ The ball snaps. Jordan, the quarterback, drops back, scanning the field. Luke, sprinting down the sideline, burns past his defender. He's open. The ball launches into the air, spiraling against the night sky. The entire stadium seems to hold its breath. Vincent actually grabs your arm. @@.vincent;"If he catches this, we can win!"@@ The ball comes down, Luke stretches out his hands, but at the last second, a Riverview defender knocks it away. The collective gasp from the crowd is deafening. Vincent practically collapses, wailing and clutching his head like he just watched the Library of Alexandria burn down. Samantha curses under her breath. @@.samantha;"God damn it."@@ The clock hits zero. It's over. Riverview players storm the field, celebrating their win. On the other side, the Pacific Crest team stands still, staring at the scoreboard like they can't believe it's real. Luke rips off his helmet, shaking his head. Even from the back, you can see how frustrated he is. Vincent lets out an exhausted sigh. @@.vincent;'That was tragic."@@ Samantha groans and leans back against the bleachers. @@.samantha;"I seriously cannot believe we lost like that."@@ @@.vincent;"Honestly, I think that was worse than if we had just gotten crushed,"@@ Vincent says, still in shock. You nod slowly. Losing this close—right at the finish lines—somehow stings far more than if it had never been in reach at all. The stadium noise starts to fade as the students begin shuffling out, their excitement drained. Some people stay back to talk, but most head toward the parking lot. The entire school looks deflated. The game didn't go how you wanted it to. Not at all. <</if>>\ <<button "Go find Luke" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 7">><</button>>

The energy in the stadium has completely shifted. There's just a dull murmur of voices as people start filing out, none of the deafening cheers and pounding drums there were moments earlier. The opposing team is still celebrating, their players hugging, jumping, and throwing their helmets in the air. Meanwhile, the Pacific Crest Panthers walk off in silence, their exhaustion and disappointment weighing down every step. You and Samantha make your way down toward the locker rooms, weaving through the dispersing crowd. The buzz of post-game chatter surrounds you but for you and Samantha, there's only one thing that matters. Luke. Samantha lets out a heavy sigh, stuffing her hands into her hoodie pocket. @@.samantha;"Ugh, I hate this part. The whole awkward conversation where we have to reassure the guy."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"We don't have to talk to him if you don't want to."@@ She snorts. @@.samantha;"Yeah, like we're going to let him mope alone. Come on, $name. You know Luke would do the same for us."@@ You can't argue with her sound logic. By the time you reach the locker room entrance, the players have already gone inside, venting their frustration to each other. Luke is leaning against the wall just outside the entrance, still in his uniform, his helmet resting on the floor. He hasn't even taken his gloves off yet. He stares at the ground, jaw clenched, expression hard to read. Samantha steps forward first. @@.samantha;"Alright, before you say anything, I want you to know that that was not your fault."@@ Luke lets out a humorless chuckle, finally looking up. @@.luke;"I didn't say it was."@@ @@.samantha;"Luke, I know you're thinking it,"@@ she says, crossing her arms. @@.samantha;"And I'm shutting it down."@@ Luke exhales sharply. @@.luke;"I should've made that. We should've won."@@ @@.player;"You almost did,"@@ you correct. Luke presses his lips into a thin line. @@.luke;"Almost doesn't win games."@@ Samantha groans. @@.samantha;"Luke, shut up. Do you want me to start listing all the insane catches you did make tonight? Because I will. Each and every one. Do keep in mind I will be obnoxious about it."@@ Luke snorts, shaking his head. @@.luke;"Please don't."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, thank God, you're still capable of human emotions."@@ That finally gets a real laugh out of him, even if it's small. Luke sighs, finally pulling off his gloves. @@.luke;"Thanks, guys. Really."@@ You nod. @@.player;"That's what we're here for."@@ Luke leans back against the wall, tilting his head up toward the stadium lights still shining overhead. @@.luke;"Fuck, I just wanted to //win// this one,"@@ he mutters. @@.luke;"First game of the season, home crowd, everyone watching... it sucks to come up short."@@ You and Samantha exchange a glance, both knowing this loss stings a hell of a lot more than he's letting on. @@.samantha;"Yeah, it sucks,"@@ Samantha admits. @@.samantha;"But it's one game. Not to mention you did your best. The season's not over."@@ Luke nods slowly, letting the words sink in. Samantha nudges Luke's arm. @@.samantha;"So, are you gonna sit here brooding all night, or are we gonna do something stupid to get our minds off this?"@@ Luke raises an eyebrow. @@.luke;"Define 'stupid.'"@@ Samantha grins. @@.samantha;"Hmm, I don't know. Something fun. Something reckless."@@ @@.player;"I feel like your definition of reckless is very different from mine,"@@ you say, sighing. Samantha completely ignores you, snapping her fingers suddenly. @@.samantha;"I've got it,"@@ she says, spinning to face both of you. @@.samantha;"You know the Sycamore Park? You know how they have a giant jungle gym?"@@ Luke squints at her. @@.luke;"What's your point, Samantha?"@@ She throws up her hands. @@.samantha;"We climb it."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"That's your idea of reckless?"@@ @@.samantha;"$name, $name, $name. We are technically too old to be climbing playground equipment. Which makes it forbidden. Pretty reckless if you ask me."@@ @@.player;"This conversation is stupid, and we have a lot of stupid conversations."@@ Luke shrugs, smirking now. @@.luke;"I don't know, man. Climbing sounds kinda fun."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You're agreeing to this?"@@ @@.luke;"I need to move and sitting here thinking about the game isn't going to help at all."@@ He looks at Samantha. @@.luke;"Race you there?"@@ Samantha's eyes light up. @@.samantha;"Oh, fuck yes."@@ And just like that, they take off, sprinting like two kids on a sugar rush. You groan and begin reluctantly jogging after them. @@.player;"Why do I know one of us is gonna break something."@@ Samantha cackles over her shoulder. @@.samantha;"That's what makes it fun!"@@ You can't help but laugh as the three of you run, the loss already starting to feel a little less heavy. <<button "Run!" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 8">><</button>>

The playground looks smaller than you remember. It's funny—when you were kids, this place felt huge. The jungle gym was a towering fortress, the swings sent you flying higher than you ever thought possible, and the metal slide felt like it went on forever. Now, under the flow of the streetlights, it's just an empty playground in a quiet park. The wood chips are scattered unevenly and the paint on the monkey bars is slightly faded. But none of that really matters. Not to you. Not to Luke. Not to Samantha. Luke and Samantha don't slow down as they reach the jungle gym. Samantha jumps onto the first platform without hesitation, gripping the bars like she's a kid again. @@.samantha;"Alright, losers,"@@ she calls over her shoulder. @@.samantha;"First one to the top wins. Last one there is a rotten egg."@@ Luke doesn't hesitate before climbing up after her. @@.luke;"You didn't say go."@@ @@.samantha;"When did I say I play fair?"@@ Samantha replies, already scrambling up another level. You shake your head, but a grin tugs at your lips as you follow. The bars are cool under your hands and the structure creaks slightly under your weight, but there's something oddly familiar about the movement. Something that feels easy. Luke is already near the top, moving with the kind of effortless coordination you'd expect from an athlete. On the other hand, Samantha is struggling to pull herself onto the highest platform, legs kicking as she struggles to get enough momentum to swing herself up. Luke watches her for a second before leaning over and extending a hand. @@.luke;"Need some help?"@@ @@.samantha;"I got it, don't worry,"@@ Samantha insists, twisting awkwardly as she tries to hoist herself up. She finally manages to flop onto the top platform, landing flat on her back. She stares up at the sky, panting. @@.samantha;"I totally meant to do that."@@ You make it up last, pulling yourself onto the top level and settling into a sitting position, legs dangling over the edge. Luke stretches his arms over his head, looking out at the empty park. @@.luke;"Man. When's the last time we even came here?"@@ Samantha sits up. @@.samantha;"Middle school?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, middle school,"@@ you repeat. @@.player;"Back when we thought staying out past sunset made us cool."@@ Luke laughs. @@.luke;"Hey, that did make us cool."@@ Samantha nudges him. @@.samantha;"Yeah, until we got yelled at for it."@@ There's a comfortable pause. The kind that settles deep in your bones, stretching across the years like a bridge back to simpler times. The three of you sit there, side by side, looking out over the quiet streets. The distant hum of cars, the occasional flicker of a porch light, the warm glow of the streetlamps—it's all so familiar, yet just far enough to feel like another lifetime. A cold breeze drifts through the playground, rustling the trees and stirring up the scent of wood chips. You breathe it in, and for a second, it feels like nothing's really changed at all. Like you're all kids again, back when nights like this stretched on forever, back when time didn't feel like it was slipping through your fingers. Luke resists his arms on his knees, starting out at the park with a small, wistful smile. @@.luke;"Remember when we used to play freeze tag here?"@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"No wonder that's the game you remember, you //always// won."@@ Luke shrugs. @@.luke;"I was fast."@@ @@.player;"You weren't just fast, you were insanely fast,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I remember you sprinting across the entire playground in, like, two seconds."@@ Samantha points at him. @@.samantha;"You do realize it was a playground game, right? Not the Olympics."@@ Luke chuckles. @@.luke;"You're just mad I never let you win."@@ Samantha scoffs. @@.samantha;"One of these days, I'm tripping you."@@ You all go quiet again, listening to the wind and the distant sounds of the world. You remember how this place used to be ''everything''—how a jungle gym could be a castle, how the swings could make you feel like you were flying, how the sandbox was a battleground for the most intense imaginary wars. You remember staying out until the streetlights flickered on, pretending not to hear your parents calling you home just so you could have one more second of freedom. Samantha sighs, stretching out and staring up at the night sky. @@.samantha;"Man. Why did growing up ruin this?"@@ @@.luke;"What do you mean?"@@ Luke asks, leaning back on his hands. @@.samantha;"This,"@@ Samantha says, gesturing vaguely at the playground. @@.samantha;"Just... being here. It used to be the best thing in the world. We'd come here after school, after practice, after whatever, and just run around like idiots for hours. Now we don't really get that before we start thinking about all the stuff we have to do."@@ You let her words settle and realize she's right. There was a time when everything you have to deal with now didn't matter. When nights like this were endless and when the biggest problem in the world was deciding who got to seek in hide-and-seek. Luke exhales, staring up at the stars. @@.luke;"Hell, maybe we just forgot how to enjoy it."@@ Samantha hums thoughtfully. @@.samantha;"Yeah, maybe."@@ You close your eyes and let yourself feel it—the wind on your face, the scent of the night air, and the metal bars cool against your skin. You let yourself believe, just for a moment, that you're still ten years old, that tomorrow isn't waiting with responsibilities and expectations. That the only thing that matters is this—the three of you, together, on an old jungle gym under the stars. . . . You open your eyes. The world hasn't changed. But somehow, you feel just a little bit lighter. <<set $gameday1CG to false>>\ <<set $playgroundCG to true>>\ <<set $playgroundCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $playgroundCGhairtie to $hairtie>>\ <<set $playgroundCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $playgroundCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $playgroundCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ \ <<include "CG_Playground">>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 9">><</button>>

Eventually, the silence is broken by the creak of shifting metal as Luke lets out a deep breath. @@.luke;"Alright,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"As fun as it was to reflect on our childhoods, I think my legs are starting to go numb."@@ @@.samantha;"Ugh,"@@ Samantha groans dramatically. @@.samantha;"Moving? Sounds fake."@@ Luke smirks. @@.luke;"You can stay up here if you want. But if you get stuck, I'm not going to help you down."@@ @@.samantha;"Coward,"@@ Samantha says, clicking her tongue. Still, she's the first to move, swinging her legs over the edge and carefully maneuvering her way down the jungle gym's bars. Luke follows soon after, his descent effortless. You take a second longer before climbing down, letting your fingers trail along the cool metal, committing the feeling to memory. It's stupid, sure, but a part of you wants to hang onto this moment just a little longer. By the time you reach the ground, Luke has already dropped onto one of the wooden benches near the swings, stretching his legs out in front of him with a sigh. Samantha flops onto a different bench a few feet away, dramatically sprawling out with her arms thrown over her head. @@.samantha;"I'm going to live on this playground now,"@@ she announces. @@.samantha;"Tell my family I love them."@@ Luke snorts. @@.luke;"How about you tell them yourself, drama queen?"@@ @@.samantha;"I can't, Puke. This is who I am now."@@ You shake your head and smile. You glance at Luke, who's tilting his head back and watching the sky. He looks lost in thought, his usual easygoing demeanor has dulled a little, like he's still working through the game in his head. Samantha, on the other hand, looks completely at ease, arms crossed behind her head, eyes half-lidded like she might fall asleep right there. Now, standing between them, you have a choice. <<button "Sit with Luke" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 10">>\<<set $d12bench to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_park_companion" "luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Sit with Samantha" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 10">>\<<set $d12bench to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_park_companion" "sam" "story">><</button>>

The air is thick with excitement—tonight is the first football game of the season, and as expected, Pacific Crest High School is buzzing with anticipation. You weave through the crowd, making your way to the usual meeting spot near the side entrance of the school. You spot Luke first, still in his casual clothes. Samantha is next to him, and she slides up beside you with her usual smirk the second she spots you. She's got a cold soda in one hand, her backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. @@.samantha;"There he is,"@@ Samantha says, nudging you lightly. @@.samantha;"Are you ready for the most thrilling night of your life? We're going to be watching sweaty dudes chase a ball for two hours. Truly, this is the peak of human ingenuity."@@ @@.luke;"You say that, but you'll be screaming your head off when we score,"@@ Luke says, rolling his eyes. @@.samantha;"I only scream //ironically//,"@@ Samantha says, sipping her drink. @@.samantha;"It's to make fun of the people who are screaming unironically."@@ @@.luke;"You literally lost your voice after last year's playoffs."@@ @@.samantha;"That was different."@@ Luke just shakes his head, knowing there's nothing he can say to change Samantha's mind. @@.luke;"Anyway, I can't stay long—I've got warm-ups soon. I just wanted to see if you guys were coming."@@ @@.player;"Wouldn't miss it for the world,"@@ you say, and it's true. Even if you're not on the field, the first game of the season is always something special. @@.samantha;"You nervous, Puke?"@@ Samantha asks, tilting her head. Luke shrugs, but there's an edge of honesty in his voice. @@.luke;"To be completely honest? I am a little nervous, yeah. First game always feels weird. But we've got a solid team this year. Just gotta focus."@@ @@.samantha;"Right, //focus//,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Hey, if all else fails, you could always plow through people like a human wrecking ball."@@ @@.luke;"That's the plan,"@@ Luke laughs. @@.luke;"Alright, I gotta head to the locker room. Catch you guys after?"@@ Samantha gives him a lazy salute. @@.samantha;"Go forth and conquer."@@ Luke grins before jogging off, disappearing into the throng of students heading toward the football field. Samantha watches him go before turning to you. @@.samantha;"Well, there goes our local football hero,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Think we should be good friends and support him, or should we just show up at the end and pretend we were watching the whole time?"@@ @@.player;"Look, all I'm saying is if we're gonna sit through the entire game, we might as well get some snacks."@@ Samantha's face lights up. @@.samantha;"//Finally//, a good idea. Let's go before the concession stand gets raided."@@ The two of you head toward the stadium and you notice that the sun is dipping lower in the sky. Everything is cast in a warm golden light, and the air is thick with the unmistakable buzz of game night energy. The concession stand is already drawing a line, the smell of buttery popcorn and sizzling nachos wafting through the cool air. A few cheerleaders are nearby, chatting as they wait for their orders, while a couple of band kids argue over who has to carry the extra water bottles. The atmosphere is chaotic but familiar—encapsulating what Friday night football is all about. @@.samantha;"Alright, what's the move here?"@@ Samantha asks, scanning the menu. @@.samantha;"Are we going full junk food mode, or are you going to disappoint me and get something boring like, I don't know, a granola bar?"@@ You can't help but roll your eyes. @@.player;"Do they even //sell// granola bars?"@@ @@.samantha;"If they did, I'd riot,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"Anyway, I'm thinking popcorn and—oh, hell yeah, they have those giant pretzels. I'm getting one."@@ You glance over the options, debating as the line shuffles forward. @@.samantha;"C'mon, $name, this an absolutely critical decision,"@@ Samantha says dramatically. @@.samantha;"Your choice of stadium snack says everything about you as a person."@@ @@.player;"Pretty sure it just says what I'm craving."@@ @@.samantha;"Same thing."@@ You shake your head, but before you can say anything else, it's your turn to order. <<button "Popcorn" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 1">>\<<set $d12snack to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_snack" "popcorn" "story">><</button>> <<button "A hot dog" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 1">>\<<set $d12snack to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_snack" "hot dog" "story">><</button>> <<button "Nachos" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 1">>\<<set $d12snack to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_snack" "nachos" "story">><</button>> <<button "A churro" "Day 12 - Game Spectator 1">>\<<set $d12snack to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D12_spectator_snack" "churro" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d12hangoutnum < 2>>\ You think about what activity you want to do. <<if $d12hangoutactivity0 is false>>\ <<button "Play truth or dare" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD">>\<<set $d12hangoutactivity0 to true>><<set $d12hangoutnum += 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_activity" "truth or dare" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $d12hangoutactivity1 is false>>\ <<button "Get into some gossip" "Day 12 - Hangout Gossip">>\<<set $d12hangoutactivity1 to true>><<set $d12hangoutnum += 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_activity" "gossip" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $d12hangoutactivity2 is false>>\ <<button "Play spin the bottle" "Day 12 - Hangout STB">>\<<set $d12hangoutactivity2 to true>><<set $d12hangoutnum += 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_activity" "spin the bottle" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You decide to finish up for the night. <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Hangout 2">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $top to $d12top>>\ <<set $pants to $d12pants>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>> <<set $outfit to 69>>\ As the night winds down, the energy shifts to a relaxed buzz. The remnants of snacks are scattered across the coffee table—empty soda cans, crumpled chip bags, and an empty bowl of popcorn. The group sprawls lazily across the sectional couch, completely at ease. Jessica stretches her arms over her head, letting out a small yawn. @@.jessica;"Alright, team, I hate to say it, but I think we've officially partied ourselves out,"@@ she says with a laugh. @@.girl;"Speak for yourself, Jess,"@@ Mia replies. She tries to sound energetic but she's lying flat on her back, head resting against the couch arm. @@.girl;"I could do this all night."@@ @@.girl;"Sure, you're the one who started nodding off first,"@@ Ashley teases. @@.girl;"Look, Ash, I was just resting my eyes."@@ @@.jessica;"Alright, let's start cleaning up,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"My parents will kill me if they come home to this mess, even if I tell them it was for the sake of team bonding."@@ Everyone groans and gets up, starting to gather up the empty bowls and trash. One girl gathers the cans and throws them away while others wipe down the coffee table. Jessica grabs the throw blanket draped over the couch and folds it before throwing it back into its spot. @@.jessica;"You good, $name?"@@ Jessica asks, giving you a smile as you collect the last of the popcorn. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm alright,"@@ you reply, feeling oddly at peace. For all the chaos you went through today, it's hard to believe the night has ended on such a comfortable note. @@.jessica;"Thanks for coming, by the way,"@@ Jessica adds. @@.jessica;"It really wouldn't have been the same without you. I think the team's better with you on it."@@ You blink, surprised by her sincerity. @@.player;"Thanks. It means a lot to hear that from you."@@ Once the squad finishes cleaning up, everyone gathers near the door, exchanging hugs and goodbyes. The night air feels cool as you step outside, the world quiet now. @@.girl;"Carpool's heading out!"@@ Tori says, jingling her keys. @@.girl;"Hop on, I'll give you a ride."@@ You nod, grateful for the offer, and soon find yourself riding in the back of Tori's car as she drives through the streets with a few other girls. By the time you're dropped off, the house is dark, save for a single porch light. You sigh, placing your hand on the doorknob and pushing it open. <<button "Finish up after a long day" "Day 12 - 3">><</button>>

<<if $d12gossip is 0>>\ You pop a chip into your mouth, leaning back with a grin. @@.player;"Alright, what about Luke?"@@ you say, glancing around the room to gauge their reaction. @@.girl;"Luke?"@@ Mia repeats, tilting her head. @@.girl;"You mean, like, the wide receiver Luke? Tall, goofy, always smiling?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, that's my best friend, alright,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"The really chill one."@@ Jessica lets out a laugh, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"Luke's the human equivalent of a golden retriever. What's there to gossip about? He's just... Luke."@@ @@.player;"Exactly!"@@ you say, sitting up. @@.player;"That's ''exactly'' why we should talk about him. He's so happy all the time, I feel like there's got to be something interesting beneath it all that he's not telling me. There's no way someone's //that// perfect, right?"@@ Ashley snorts. @@.girl;"Oh, $name. Sweet, naïve, $name. There's nothing beneath Luke's golden retriever energy because that's literally all there is. I mean, don't get me wrong, the guy's great—but he's about as deep as a kiddie pool."@@ @@.girl;"Hey, don't be mean,"@@ Tori chimes in. @@.girl;"He's a sweetheart."@@ Mia grins, nudging you. @@.girl;"You know he talks about you constantly, right? He likes you. The guy probably thinks you walk on water or something."@@ @@.player;"I don't know about that,"@@ you say, rolling your eyes. @@.player;"Luke probably likes //everyone// that isn't horrible."@@ Jessica taps her chin thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"I feel like we're missing an opportunity here. Maybe, just maybe, Luke's got a dramatic backstory. Like, what if he's pretending to be all cheerful because... his dad was not a good guy. And he's trying to make everyone happy."@@ Ashley raises an eyebrow, smirking. @@.girl;"What, like he's going around saving people because he couldn't save himself as a kid? That's way too deep for Luke. The only secret he's hiding is probably how many burgers he can eat in one sitting. He's not exactly layered, you know?"@@ The group falls into giggles, the conversation spiraling into increasingly crazy theories. At one point, Mia suggests he's a Russian spy, while Tori insists he's a secret billionaire. Jessica shakes her head. @@.jessica;"You know, I think Luke's simplicity is part of his charm. he's not some complex character or a walking enigma. He's just... happy. And honestly? That's kind of refreshing."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say with a laugh, realizing the conversation has went from gossiping about Luke to roasting his one-dimensionality. @@.player;"Sometimes a golden retriever is just a golden retriever."@@ <<else>>\ You lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees as a sly smile creeps onto your face. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, glancing around the room. @@.player;"What about Samantha?"@@ The room goes silent before breaking into a mix of laughter and surprised exclamations. @@.jessica;"Samantha?"@@ Jessica says, her eyebrows shooting up. @@.jessica;"$name, you've got guts to gossip about your own best friend. Also, she's the most un-gossipable person ever. What's the tea?"@@ @@.girl;"No one ever talks about Samantha because she's so... she's such a... Samantha,"@@ Mia says. @@.girl;"She's got that sarcastic, too-cool-for-drama vibes."@@ @@.girl;"That just makes her more interesting,"@@ a girl adds. @@.girl;"$name, why don't you spill. You know her better than any of us do—what's she been up to?"@@ @@.player;"I mean, we're friends, but she's not exactly forthcoming about her life, you know?"@@ you say. @@.player;"She acts like nothing ever gets to her, but there's got to be something going on beneath the surface. I've known her for ages now but I still don't feel like I truly know her."@@ @@.jessica;"Totally,"@@ Jessica nods thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"I've always wondered what her deal is. She's really closed off."@@ @@.girl;"She's probably too busy coming up with snarky one-liners,"@@ Tori says with a laugh, popping a chip into her mouth. @@.girl;"Seriously though, how the hell does she do it? It's like she has a database of insults ready to go at all times."@@ @@.player;"Right?"@@ you laugh. @@.player;"She's too quick sometimes."@@ Mia rests her chin in her hand. @@.girl;"Do you think she's hiding something big? Like a secret crush or a double life?"@@ Ashley gasps dramatically, clapping her hands together. @@.girl;"Oh my God, I knew it! She's like Hannah Montana or something. Or maybe she's secretly in love with someone, and that's why she's so prickly. Who do you think it could be?"@@ @@.jessica;"Okay, let's not turn this into some soap opera,"@@ Jessica says, rolling her eyes. @@.jessica;"But still... she's always so quick to call other people out. I wonder if she's afraid of letting people call //her// out for once."@@ You think back to all the times Samantha has deflected attention away from herself with a well-timed joke or sarcastic remark. @@.player;"She's definitely got walls up,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But I don't think it's about being mean or catty. She's just... careful."@@ @@.girl;"I mean, you're her best friend, $name,"@@ Tori says. @@.girl;"Don't you know anything about her home life?"@@ @@.player;"I'm not... sure?"@@ you say, realizing you know a lot less about Samantha than you thought you did. <</if>>\ As the laughter dies down and the conversation wraps up, Jessica stretches out on the couch. @@.jessica;"That was fun but we're not done yet,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Come on, $name, you're on a roll tonight. Who's next on the Pacific Crest gossip chopping block?"@@ The rest of the squad leans in eagerly, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. You glance around, feeling the squad's excitement radiating toward you. There's a pause as you think about who to bring up next. <<button "Jordan" "Day 12 - Hangout Gossip 2">>\<<set $d12gossipagain to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_gossip_2" "jordan" "story">><</button>> <<button "Vincent" "Day 12 - Hangout Gossip 2">>\<<set $d12gossipagain to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_gossip_2" "vincent" "story">><</button>> <<button "Aurora" "Day 12 - Hangout Gossip 2">>\<<set $d12gossipagain to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_gossip_2" "aurora" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d12gossipagain is 0>>\ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say with a grin. @@.player;"What about Jordan?"@@ That gets a reaction. Jessica raises an eyebrow, while Mia lets out a small laugh. @@.girl;"Jordan?"@@ Mia asks. @@.girl;"Jordan the quarterback? //Mr. Stoic himself?// Oh, this should be good."@@ A girl crosses her arms. @@.girl;"Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen him talk to anyone unless it's about football or telling someone to move out of the way."@@ @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Doesn't that make him more interesting to talk about? He's the best player on the team, but does anyone actually know anything about him? Like, what's his deal?"@@ @@.girl;"Didn't you talk to him once?"@@ Mia asks as she nudges Jessica with her elbow. @@.girl;"During that team dinner thing?"@@ @@.jessica;"I tried,"@@ Jessica says, rolling her eyes. @@.jessica;"He just kept giving me one-word answers. Not exactly a bonding moment."@@ @@.girl;"Maybe he has a tragic backstory,"@@ Tori says, shrugging. @@.girl;"I mean, have you //seen// the guy? He always looks like he's thinking about the meaning of life or something."@@ You laugh softly. @@.player;"Yeah, he's definitely carrying something. He's usually not rude, but there's this... distance, you know? Like he doesn't want anyone getting too close."@@ @@.jessica;"I've heard rumors that his parents are //super// intense,"@@ Jessica says, a flicker of understanding crossing her face. @@.jessica;"Like, former athlete intense. If they're the kind of people who think losing is unacceptable..."@@ @@.girl;"That would explain a lot of his behavior,"@@ a girl adds. @@.girl;"It's like he doesn't let himself enjoy anything because he's too busy trying not to screw up."@@ @@.jessica;"I guess that's the downside of expectations,"@@ Jessica says, letting out a small sigh. @@.jessica;"Everyone wants something from you, and no one stops to ask what //you// want."@@ The room falls quiet for a moment as the lighthearted energy gets replaced by a more reflective mood. You feel a strange sense of curiosity about Jordan, wondering just how much he's not revealing about himself. Tori breaks the silence with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. @@.girl;"Well, if anyone could crack him, it'd probably be you, $name. You've got this way of getting people to talk without them realizing it."@@ You chuckle, though part of you wonders if she's right. Maybe there's more to him than anyone realizes. <<elseif $d12gossipagain is 1>>\ You tap your fingers on your knee as you think until a name pops into your head. @@.player;"What about Vincent?"@@ The reaction isn't as loud or excited as before. Instead, there's a pause as the squad processes the name. @@.girl;"Vincent?"@@ Mia repeats, furrowing her brow. @@.girl;"The kid with glasses? Quiet guy? Barely talks to anyone?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, that's him,"@@ you say, nodding. Jessica raises an eyebrow, intrigued. @@.jessica;"Huh. That's... different. Not gonna lie, I don't think I've ever heard anyone say his name during a gossip session."@@ @@.girl;"Exactly!"@@ a girl says. @@.girl;"Like who even //is// Vincent? I don't think I've ever seen him hang out with anyone. He's just kinda... there."@@ @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ Tori chimes in. @@.girl;"I mean, I see him in the hallways sometimes, but he's like a ghost. Doesn't talk, doesn't make eye contact, doesn't //exist// outside of class."@@ @@.player;"I didn't even know about him until a couple of weeks ago,"@@ you shrug. @@.player;"He's in my gym class."@@ @@.girl;"Wait, you actually talked to him?"@@ a girl asks, her eyes wide. @@.girl;"What's he like?"@@ @@.player;"He's a good guy. A little shy, but solid."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow, intrigued. @@.jessica;"Gym class is an odd place to start a friendship with someone like him. He doesn't really scream 'team sports'."@@ @@.player;"He doesn't,"@@ you agree, a small smile tugging at your lips as you recall how that first interaction went. @@.player;"We played pickleball against these assholes who were being rude to Paige."@@ @@.girl;"Who would be rude to Paige?"@@ Tori asks, annoyance in her voice. @@.girl;"What happened?"@@ <<if $d3pickleball is true>>\ @@.player;"We won, obviously,"@@ you say, a smile on your face. @@.player;"We shut them up."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I messed up and we lost,"@@ you say, sighing as you recall that moment. <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"It sounds like Vincent warmed up to you pretty fast though, don't you think?"@@ @@.player;"Pretty much,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"I think he's just... looking for someone to talk to. Someone who doesn't make fun of him or blow him off. He started treating me like we were friends after, like, two conversations. It caught me off guard at first, I'll admit, but..."@@ @@.girl;"But it's kinda sweet, isn't it?"@@ Mia finishes for you. @@.player;"I guess, yeah,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I think he doesn't really have many people he can trust, so when he finds someone who's nice to him, he clings to it. He has been a really good friend so far though."@@ @@.jessica;"Well, I'm glad he's found you,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"You're probably exactly the type of friend he needs right now."@@ As the conversation shifts and the squad begins chatting about something else, Vincent lingers in the back of your mind. Whatever his story is, you know he deserves at least one person in his corner. For now, maybe you can be that person. <<else>>\ You lean back into the couch, smirking as the name comes to you. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, lowering your voice to match the mood you're about to create. @@.player;"What about Aurora?"@@ The room falls silent almost instantly as if the name itself has power over everyone present. @@.girl;"Oh, now you're just being bold,"@@ Ashley says. @@.girl;"Like, Aurora? //The// Aurora? The girl no one ever talks to unless they absolutely have to?"@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. @@.jessica;"That's an interesting choice, $name. To be honest, I've been curious about her too. She's... I don't know, kind of fascinating in her own way."@@ @@.girl;"Fascinating? More like terrifying,"@@ Mia interjects. @@.girl;"That girl gives me chills. She's so quiet and serious all the time, and she's always reading those weird-ass ancient books. Like, what even //are// those? Grimoires?"@@ @@.jessica;"Alright, $name, you brought her up—spill,"@@ Jessica says, a knowing smile on her face. @@.jessica;"What do //you// know about Aurora? You don't just pick someone like her at random."@@ You hesitate for a moment, wondering how much to say. You know Aurora isn't just some mysterious girl—she's someone who knows about your curse. @@.player;"She's... different,"@@ you say carefully, trying to find the right words. @@.player;"I feel like she knows things—things other people don't."@@ Ashley snorts. @@.girl;"Yeah, like how to freak people the fuck out by just standing there."@@ @@.girl;"You don't think she's actually into magic, do you?"@@ Jessica tilts her head, considering it. @@.jessica;"All I'm saying is that it wouldn't surprise me. She has that kind of presence like she's always one step ahead of everyone else. She's said some freaky stuff too."@@ @@.girl;"She's intimating too, but not in an obvious way,"@@ a girl says. @@.girl;"You just know not to cross her. You just feel like she's got something up her sleeve."@@ You nod slowly, remembering the way Aurora had looked at you once. Her piercing purple eyes seemed to see straight through you, like she was looking into you rather than at you. @@.player;"I don't know, I've talked to her a couple of times, she's not what you'd expect,@@ you say. @@.player;"She's not mean or anything. Just... different."@@ @@.girl;"Different how?"@@ a girl asks. @@.girl;"Like, does she actually do magic?"@@ @@.girl;"Oh my God, she's a witch,"@@ Mia says, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. @@.girl;"She's an actual witch. $name, what's going on? Did you get hexed?"@@ @@.jessica;"Calm down,"@@ Jessica says, snickering. @@.jessica;"You guys are going way too far."@@ For now, you laugh along with the squad. You are a little disappointed that they don't know more though. Aurora will remain an enigma—for now. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Hangout 1">><</button>>

You settle into the couch, grabbing a handful of popcorn as the others dig into the snacks. You glance around the room and decide the vibe is just right. @@.player;"Okay, hear me out,"@@ you say, drawing their attention. @@.player;"What if we just... talk? You know, catch up on the latest gossip?"@@ Mia perks up immediately, launching forward. @@.girl;"Yes! Finally, someone who gets it. Gossip is the //best// part of nights like this."@@ @@.jessica;"$name's throwing us straight into the deep end, huh?"@@ Jessica says, raising an eyebrow in amusement. @@.jessica;"But we need to set some ground rules if we're doing this. No spreading anything mean or serious, alright? Only fun stuff."@@ @@.girl;"Yeah, obviously,"@@ Ashley says. @@.girl;"We're not just your run-of-the-mill teenage gossips. We're ''classy'' gossips."@@ @@.girl;"Classy?"@@ a girl laughs, nearly choking on her drink. @@.girl;"Aren't you the one who tried to spread the rumor that the new girl was actually an alien last year?"@@ @@.girl;"You can't blame me, she did give off alien vibes,"@@ Ashley responds, completely unbothered. @@.girl;"Anyway, we've got to focus—who are we dishing about first?"@@ Everyone turns to you, waiting for you to pick the target of the night's playful interrogation. @@.jessica;"It's your call, $name,"@@ Jessica says, reclining back into the couch. @@.jessica;"You started this, so you've got to pick who we're talking about."@@ You decide you want to gossip about one of your best friends first. <<button "Luke" "Day 12 - Hangout Gossip 1">>\<<set $d12gossip to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_gossip_1" "luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Samantha" "Day 12 - Hangout Gossip 1">>\<<set $d12gossip to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_gossip_1" "sam" "story">><</button>>

<<notify>>Random number generated, $d12rng!<</notify>>\ <<if $d12rng is 0>>\ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "JessicaKiss">>\ The bottle slows to a stop, its neck pointing directly at Jessica. @@.jessica;"Well, well,"@@ Jessica says as the room erupts. Her voice carries an almost theatrical air of amusement, but there's a faint flush in her cheeks that she's not able to hide fast enough. Her eyes flick to you, narrowing as if she's trying to size you up. @@.jessica;"Guess it's your lucky day, $name,"@@ she teases, her smile curving just enough to seem playful, though her gaze lingers on you a little too long. The others start egging her on, cheering and clapping as she leans just the slightest bit forward. You're not sure if it's the lighting or your own nerves, but you think that her expression softens as she gets closer. You're aware of how close she is, her blue eyes locking onto yours for a moment that feels far longer than it actually is. Her gaze bores into you, almost as if she's searching for something. Maybe she's looking to see if you're nervous too. Or maybe she's just as unsure as you are. Then, before either of you can hesitate any longer, she closes the distance. Her lips brush against yours, soft and warm, lingering just a moment longer than they should. The room erupts into cheers and laughter around you, but it all fades into the background. For that fleeting moment, it's just you and her. Jessica and $name. When she pulls back, her cheeks are definitely flushed, but there's a shy smile on her face that's completely unlike her usual confident smirks. She looks away for a second, running a hand through her ponytail before locking eyes with you again. @@.jessica;"Well,"@@ she says, her voice quiet. @@.jessica;"You're not bad at this, huh?"@@ The others are still joking and teasing but Jessica seems to tune them out, her gaze lingering on you for just a beat longer. There's something unreadable in her expression before she laughs quickly and leans back. @@.jessica;"Alright, who's next?"@@ she asks, reclaiming her usual composure. Her tone is light and playful but her fingers fidget briefly with the hem of her skirt as the bottle spins again. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 59 or $d12makeup > 0>>\ As the bottle slows, your heart thuds in your chest. It finally slows to a stop pointing directly at Jessica. @@.girl;"Well, well, well,"@@ Mia says. @@.girl;"Our fearless leader is up first. This should be good."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow, her expression caught somewhere between amused and resigned. She flicks her ponytail over her shoulder and sighs dramatically. @@.jessica;"Alright, rules are rules,"@@ she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. @@.jessica;"But don't get any ideas, $name. This doesn't make us a couple or anything."@@ The group laughs at the jab but you catch the faintest flicker of something else in her eyes. It's subtle, gone in a flash, but you can't help but notice it as she shifts her weight and turns toward you. @@.jessica;"C'mon, $name,"@@ she says, her tone a little too practiced. @@.jessica;"Let's just get this over with."@@ You nod as you lean in, trying not to overthink it. Your cheeks burn, but Jessica looks perfectly composed. Almost as if she's treating this like a performance. The kiss is quick—a simple peck on the lips, nothing more—but the squad cheers like you pulled off a championship-winning stunt. @@.girl;"Whoo! Look at you two go!"@@ Tori exclaims, clapping loudly. @@.girl;"First game and first kiss—$name's having a night!"@@ Jessica pulls back, a distant smile firmly in place. She wipes an imaginary smudge off her lips with the back of her hand and laughs. @@.jessica;"Okay, that's enough excitement for one spin. Who's next?"@@ The game continues but Jessica doesn't immediately rejoin the banter. She leans back on her hands, watching the bottle spin again with a calm but detached expression. It's subtle but you notice how she keeps glancing at the others instead of looking at you. She doesn't seem uncomfortable just... unaffected by it all. <<else>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ As the bottle slows, the group leans forward in anticipation. Your heart skips a beat when it stops, pointing directly at Jessica. Her confident grin falters for just a moment, replaced by a look of surprise. She recovers quickly, but something about the moment feels off. Jessica leans back on her hands, a flicker of tension in her eyes as she glances at you. @@.jessica;"Well, looks like it's me,"@@ she says, noticeably being careful with her words. @@.jessica;"Let's get this over with."@@ Mia gasps dramatically, clapping her hands. @@.girl;"Oh my God, the captain and the rookie! This is so iconic!"@@ @@.girl;"You better make it good, $name,"@@ a girl says, winking at you. @@.girl;"Jessica has high standards."@@ Jessica laughs at that, although it sounds forced. @@.jessica;"Yeah, don't let me down, superstar."@@ You swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of the attention on you. You lean in, your face inches from Jessica's, but you can feel how still she becomes when you go for the kiss. Her body tenses ever so slightly, and while she doesn't pull away outright, you can tell she's not entirely comfortable. The kiss itself is brief—just a quick peck on the lips that's over in a second—but it feels awkward, like something mechanical. Jessica pulls back immediately, giving you a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. @@.jessica;"There,"@@ she says, brushing her hair over her shoulder as though nothing happened. @@.jessica;"Satisfied?"@@ The squad cheers and laughs, oblivious to the subtle undercurrent. Jessica, ever the leader, plays it off perfectly. @@.girl;"Your turn, Mia. Let's keep this moving."@@ As the group's attention shifts, you glance at Jessica in hopes of a sign that everything's fine. But she avoids your gaze, focusing instead on the bottle as Mia spins it. Her posture is relaxed, but there's something guarded in the way she carries herself now. The rest of the game continues but you can't shake the feeling that something's changed. Jessica has no problem laughing and joking with the rest of the squad but doesn't address you directly. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d12rng is 1>>\ As the bottle slows to a halt, it lands squarely on Mia. Her bright green eyes widen slightly before curving into a playful grin. @@.girl;"Oh, looks like it's my lucky night,"@@ she teases. The squad erupts into laughter and cheers, the energy in the room buzzing with excitement. @@.jessica;"Go on, $name!"@@ Jessica urges. @@.jessica;"Rules are rules."@@ You glance at Mia, your heart racing in your chest. There's no pressure in her gaze as she leans forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. @@.girl;"Well? Don't keep me waiting,"@@ she says. You muster a grin, your cheeks warm, and lean forward across the circle. The distance between you feels like it stretches forever, and for a moment, the noise of the room fades into the background. Mia meets you halfway, her expression softening as she closes the gap. The kiss is quick and light—just a playful brush of lips, but that's enough to make your pulse race. When you pull back, Mia's grin returns in full force as she flops back against the couch. @@.girl;"Oh, $name, I think I'm swooning,"@@ she jokes, fanning herself with one hand. The squad bursts into laughter again. @@.girl;"Mia, you're //such// a drama queen,"@@ a girl says, tossing a pillow at her. @@.girl;"Look, I'm just living in the moment,"@@ Mia retorts, tossing the pillow back. @@.girl;"$name's a pretty good kisser. I've got to admit that."@@ You feel your cheeks heat up again but Jessica takes control of the moment before you can respond. @@.jessica;"Alright, alright, enough flirting. Whose turn is next?"@@ <<elseif $d12rng is 2>>\ The bottle spins and spins, wobbling slightly on the rug as all eyes are fixed on it. Your heart pounds in your chest as it slows down, inching closer to Ashley. When it finally stops, the room falls silent for a second before erupting into laughter and gasps. Ashley leans back on her hands, a smirk spreading across her face. @@.girl;"Well, well, well,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Looks like someone's aiming high tonight."@@ The others burst out laughing. @@.girl;"Oh my God, $name, bold move!"@@ Mia exclaims. @@.jessica;"This is about to get //really// interesting,"@@ Jessica adds, shooting you a sly grin. You feel your face heat up, but barely manage to keep your cool. Ashley watches you with a sharp gaze, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. But beneath her teasing, there's a flicker of genuine amusement in her eyes. @@.girl;"Well?"@@ she asks, sitting up straighter. @@.girl;"You're not backing out, are you?"@@ There's a playful challenge in her voice, like she's testing you to see if you'll rise to the occasion. You take a deep breath, doing your best to ignore the others' whispers and giggles. @@.player;"Backing out? No way,"@@ you say. @@.girl;"Good answer."@@ The room falls quiet again as everyone holds their breath. You close the small distance between you and Ashley, inching toward her. The moment feels oddly surreal, the air charged with a mix of excitement and nerves. When your lips finally meet hers, it's brief but not rushed—a light, fleeting touch. The second it's over, the room erupts into cheers and whistles. @@.girl;"Woohoo!"@@ Tori says, clapping her hands. Mia fans herself dramatically. @@.girl;"Ten out of ten."@@ @@.jessica;"Not bad for a rookie,"@@ Jessica says with a laugh. @@.jessica;"Ashley, what's the verdict?"@@ Ashley leans back, crossing her arms with a mock-thoughtful expression. @@.girl;"Hmm... I'd say he passed,"@@ she says. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, a mix of relief and exhilaration washing over you. Ashley's teasing smile softens and she gives you a small nod. @@.jessica;"Alright, who's next?"@@ Jessica says, grabbing the bottle and spinning it herself, sending the group into another round of excited chatter. <<else>>\ The bottle slows, spinning lazily as everyone leans in closer. Your heart skips a beat as it finally comes to a stop, the neck pointing directly at Tori. Her eyes widen for a split second before she breaks out into a soft, easy smile. @@.girl;"Well, looks like it's me,"@@ she says, her voice calm but with a tinge of amusement. The rest of the squad erupts into playful hoots and teasing remarks. @@.girl;"Ooh, Tori and $name!"@@ Mia exclaims. Jessica smirks, nudging Tori with her elbow. @@.jessica;"Guess we're about to see how your chemistry on the field translates to romance."@@ Tori rolls her eyes at the teasing but doesn't seem fazed. She shifts her weight, turning to face you fully, her hair falling over her shoulder as she tucks it back with a quick motion. @@.girl;"You good with this?"@@ she asks like she's giving you an easy out if you want it. Your nerves are buzzing, but the way she looks at you makes it easier to relax. You nod, managing a smile. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm good."@@ Tori leans forward slightly, her movements unhurried. The room goes silent except for the faint sound of a girl suppressing a giggle in the background. You meet her halfway, and while the kiss is quick and soft, it leaves your cheeks warm all the same. When you pull back, Tori's smile grows. @@.girl;"Not bad,"@@ she says. Before the teasing can go any further, Tori reaches for the bottle and spins it, smoothly redirecting the attention away from the moment. You appreciate her good-natured vibe and the way she made you feel comfortable, though. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Hangout 1">><</button>>

You glance around the room, noticing how comfortable everyone seems right now. The vibe is perfect—light, fun, and just a little chaotic. @@.player;"What if we play spin the bottle?"@@ The room goes quiet for a second, and then Jessica raises an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"Oh, so //that's// what you want to do, $name?"@@ @@.girl;"$name, I didn't know you had it in you!"@@ Mia says dramatically, clutching her chest. \ <<if $transgender < 10>>\ @@.girl;"Choosing the game where you get to kiss a bunch of girls. Smooth move, rookie."@@ <<else>>\ @@.girl;"You just finished up your first game as a cheerleader and now you're trying to charm half the squad."@@ <</if>>\ @@.girl;"You know what?"@@ one girl says, nudging another. @@.girl;"I'm in. Let's do it."@@ @@.girl;"Why not, right?"@@ Ashley shrugs, a small smirk tugging at her lips. @@.girl;"It'll certainly make things interesting."@@ @@.jessica;"Alright, Pacific Crest High Cheer Team!"@@ Jessica says, clapping her hands together. @@.jessica;"Rules are simple—you have to kiss whoever the bottle lands on. And no chickening out. Are you sure you're ready for this, $name?"@@ @@.player;"I suppose we'll find out,"@@ you say, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. The group shuffles into a loose circle on Jessica's living room floor, clearing space on the rug. The bottle is placed in the center, and everyone watches as it wobbles slightly. @@.jessica;"Alright, $name,"@@ Jessica says, gesturing toward the bottle with a flourish. @@.jessica;"Since this was your idea, you go first."@@ You reach for the bottle, your palms slightly clammy. The whole squad watches you intently, their expressions ranging from intrigued to mischievous. With a quick flick of your wrist, you spin it, watching as it slows down gradually before coming to a stop. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ This is RNG! </div>\ <<button "Who does it land on?" "Day 12 - Hangout STB 1">>\<<set $d12rng to random(0, 3)>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_stb" $d12rng "story">><</button>>

<<if $d12dare is true>>\ You glance around the circle, heart pounding as their grins grow wider. @@.player;"Dare,"@@ you say, trying to sound braver than you feel. The room erupts into cheers and cackles of delight. @@.jessica;"Oh, this is going to be //amazing//,"@@ Jessica says, her face lighting up. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ Mia begins, standing up and looking around the room like she's about to announce the winner of the Oscars. @@.girl;"I dare $name to put on a dress. But not just any dress—a //cute// dress. Like, the cutest thing Jessica owns."@@ The room erupts in laughter, cheers, and gasps of delight. Jessica claps her hands together, her face lighting up in excitement. @@.jessica;"Oh my God, yes, I have the perfect one!"@@ she exclaims, practically leaping off the couch and running toward her room. You blink, trying to process what's happening. @@.girl;"This is going to be iconic,"@@ Tori says. @@.girl;"Yeah, you're gonna look //adorable//,"@@ Ashley adds. @@.player;"I hate all of you,"@@ you mutter, \ <<if $transgender > 9>>\ though your face feels warm as the idea sinks in. <<else>>\ genuinely feeling annoyed that they're making you do this. <</if>>\ Jessica comes running back a moment later. She holds the dress up with a flourish, and the room collectively gasps. It's a soft, dreamy piece, made of delicate pink fabric with a floral pattern. The puffed sleeves and small bows at the neckline give it a princess-like charm. The sheer layers of the skirt cascade in a flowing design and tiny pearl-like buttons trail down the bodice. @@.jessica;"This is ''perfection'',"@@ Jessica says, spinning it slightly so the skirt flutters. @@.jessica;"$name, you're going to look //amazing// in it."@@ You feel your cheeks heat up as you take in how girly the dress is. It's like something someone would wear to a fancy garden party or a whimsical photoshoot. Still, everyone is looking at you expectantly. <<button "Protest, but secretly want to put it on" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 2">>\<<set $d12darereaction to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_dare_response" "Protest, but secretly want to put it on" "story">><</button>> <<button "Protest and really not want to wear it" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 2">>\<<set $d12darereaction to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_dare_response" "Protest and really not want to wear it" "story">><</button>> <<button "Accept it immediately" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 2">>\<<set $d12darereaction to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_dare_response" "Accept it immediately" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ You hesitate for a second before deciding, your nerves buzzing. @@.player;"Truth,"@@ you say finally, bracing yourself for whatever question they're about to throw at you. Jessica's eyes light up, and the rest of the squad exchanges grins. Fuck, you just messed up. @@.jessica;"Oh, I've got a good one,"@@ Jessica says, leaning forward. @@.jessica;"$name, do you have a crush on anyone right now?"@@ The room goes completely silent as everyone leans in, their eyes glued to you. Ashley gasps dramatically, clutching a pillow to her chest. @@.girl;"Oh my god, he totally does! Look at his face."@@ Tori giggles, nudging you with her elbow. @@.girl;"come on, spill. You picked truth—rules are rules."@@ You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as all four of them stare at you, clearly enjoying your discomfort way too much. You consider playing it off as a joke for a moment, but their excitement is too much. @@.player;"Well..."@@ you begin, your voice trailing off as you glance around the room. You can practically feel their anticipation building as you consider what to say. <<button "Admit you're crushing on a boy" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 2">>\<<set $d12truthanswer to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_truth_crush" "boy" "story">><</button>> <<button "Admit you're crushing on a girl" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 2">>\<<set $d12truthanswer to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_truth_crush" "girl" "story">><</button>> <<button "Admit you're not crushing on anyone" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 2">>\<<set $d12truthanswer to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_truth_crush" "noone" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d12dare is true>>\ <<if $d12darereaction is 0>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You cross your arms and glare at Jessica, though the heat creeping up your neck and face probably ruins the effect. @@.player;"No way. I'm not wearing that,"@@ you declare, shaking your head. @@.player;"It's way too... frilly."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. @@.jessica;"Oh, come on, $name. Don't be a baby. It's just a dress—it's not going to kill you."@@ @@.girl;"Yeah, what's the big deal?"@@ Mia adds. @@.girl;"You'll look //adorable//."@@ @@.player;"I don't want to look adorable!"@@ you sputter, your voice cracking slightly. The room bursts into laughter, and you feel your protests are only making your situation worse. @@.girl;"You're so bad at this, $name,"@@ another girl says, smirking from the couch. @@.girl;"The more you fight it, the more obvious it is that you're curious. Just admit it—part of you wants to try it on."@@ @@.player;"What? No! I don't!"@@ you insist, taking a step back as Jessica moves closer with the dress. @@.jessica;"Oh, really?"@@ Jessica teases. @@.jessica;"Then why are you blushing so much? Not to mention you're stumbling and tripping all over your own words. Look, you've got two options: put it on yourself, or we'll //help// you. Your choice!"@@ Tori cackles. @@.girl;"You know we're not bluffing."@@ You hold up your hands defensively, but the squad is already closing in. @@.player;"Okay, okay!"@@ you shout, your voice cracking again. @@.player;"I'll... I'll do it. Just stop looking at me like that."@@ Jessica smirks triumphantly and tosses you the dress. @@.jessica;"Good choice. Now, the bathroom's right down the hall. Go on. We'll wait."@@ You glance down at the dress in your hands, the soft fabric fluttering slightly as if taunting you. For a split second, you consider booking it for the door—but the squad would probably tackle you before you made it anywhere close. @@.girl;"Take your time!"@@ a girl calls after you. @@.girl;"We'll be here, imagining how //cute// you're going to look."@@ As you close the door behind you, you can hear the giggles echoing through the hallway. You glance at yourself in the mirror, then back at the dress. Despite your protests, you can't help but feel curious. You've never worn anything like this before, and you're not sure if you're more embarrassed by the idea of it... or the fact that part of you actually //wants// to see how it looks on you. @@.player;"Here goes nothing,"@@ you mutter to yourself. <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 3">><</button>> <<elseif $d12darereaction is 1>>\ <<set $csquadbond to Math.clamp($csquadbond - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a step back, holding up your hands as if to physically shield yourself from the dress. @@.player;"Nope. No way. Absolutely not,"@@ you say, your voice firm and unwavering. @@.player;"You can't make me wear that. I don't care how cute it is."@@ The cheerleaders all freeze for a moment, Jessica still holding the dress in mid-air. The room, which had been buzzing with excitement just seconds ago, suddenly feels a lot heavier. Jessica's grin falters, her arms slowly lowering the dress as she glances between you and the rest of the squad. @@.jessica;"Oh,"@@ she says, a hint of awkwardness creeping in. @@.jessica;"I mean... it was just for fun."@@ Mia looks at you, her expression dimming. @@.girl;"Hey, no big deal,"@@ she says, trying to shrug it off. @@.girl;"We get it. If you're not comfortable, it's totally fine."@@ Jessica quickly folds the dress, trying to smooth things over. @@.jessica;"We'll just do something else,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"It's not a big deal, really."@@ You can tell the group is trying to move past it, but the energy in the room has definitely shifted. The teasing and laughter that filled the air just a minute earlier have been replaced by a slight tension like everyone's trying to figure out how to reset the mood without making you feel worse. <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Hangout 1">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at the dress a moment longer, feeling your face heat up as everyone waits for your answer. Then, before you can even stop yourself, you blurt out, @@.player;"Alright, fine. Let's do this."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. @@.jessica;"Wow, no hesitation, huh?"@@ @@.girl;"Yeah, no need to twist his arm,"@@ Mia says, laughing as she nudges the cheerleader next to her. @@.player;"I mean, if it's for the dare, right?"@@ you stammer, trying to sound nonchalant but failing. @@.player;"rules are rules."@@ Jessica's eyes narrow playfully as she hands over the dress. @@.jessica;"You're surprisingly eager, $name,"@@ she teases. @@.player;"Don't read too much into it,"@@ you mutter, though the truth is you're struggling to hide your curiosity. There's a strange flutter in your chest as your fingers brush the soft fabric. @@.girl;"Uh-huh,"@@ Ashley says. @@.girl;"Just admit it—you're kinda into it."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"I just don't want to lose the game, alright?"@@ There's a hum of excitement in the air, the squad exchanging knowing looks as you grip the dress a little tighter than you mean to. For a moment, it feels like they're all in on some joke you haven't caught up to yet. For some reason though, you can't help feeling a bit... excited yourself. @@.jessica;"The bathroom's down the hall, good luck!"@@ Jessica exclaims. <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 3">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d12truthanswer is 0>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance around the circle, feeling the weight of their expectant stares, and you decide to be honest. You take a breath and nod slightly. @@.player;"Yeah, I do,"@@ you say, keeping your voice steady. @@.player;"And... it's a guy."@@ There's a pause for a moment as if the whole squad is processing what you just said. But then Jessica grins, clapping her hands together. @@.jessica;"Yesss, I knew it!"@@ she exclaims. @@.jessica;"I mean, come on—look at $name. He's got taste!"@@ Another girl squeals, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. @@.girl;"Okay, this just made the game so much better. You're not getting out of this without giving us some hints."@@ @@.girl;"Alright, spill,"@@ one says. @@.girl;"We don't need a name but what's he like? Is he on the football team? Is he cute? Is he tall? Give us something, $name!"@@ You laugh, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks at their relentless enthusiasm. @@.player;"Look, I'm not giving you //any// details,"@@ you say firmly. @@.player;"I'm already regretting picking truth."@@ @@.girl;"Come on, you're killing us here,"@@ Mia adds. @@.girl;"Just one tiny hint? Like, does he at least know you exist?"@@ @@.jessica;"Or is this a secret crush situation?"@@ Jessica presses. @@.player;"You all are relentless, you know that?"@@ you say, shaking your head. @@.player;"No, I'm not giving you anything else."@@ @@.girl;"Ugh, you're no fun!"@@ a girl yells out. @@.jessica;"But $name, if you ever need someone to hype you up or help you make a move, we're here,"@@ Jessica says, nudging you with a grin on her face. @@.girl;"You've got the whole cheer squad on your side. You're basically unstoppable!"@@ @@.girl;"Yeah, you've got a team of wingwomen now,"@@ Tori adds with a wink. @@.girl;"Not to brag, but we're //very// good at matchmaking."@@ You can't help but laugh, their acceptance making you feel lighter than you expected. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'll keep that in mind... maybe."@@ @@.jessica;"Maybe?!"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"More like definitely. There's no 'maybe' about it."@@ The squad continues tossing out ridiculous guesses and half-baked theories about your mystery crush, but it's all in good fun. Even as the game moves on, you can feel their support lingering in the air, making the night feel even more special. <<elseif $d12truthanswer is 1>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate, your heart thudding in your chest as all eyes stay locked on you. Finally, you nod slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you admit, your voice soft but steady. @@.player;"It's a girl."@@ The reaction is instant. @@.girl;"Oh my God, I //knew// it!"@@ one girl shouts. @@.girl;"Who is she?!"@@ Mia blurts out. Another girl practically squeals. @@.girl;"This is huge! Okay, you don't have to tell us her name, but we need some details."@@ Jessica tilts her head slightly, her lips curling into a teasing smile. @@.jessica;"So, what's she like? Cute? Smart? Both?"@@ You laugh nervously as the whole squad starts firing off questions like it's an interrogation. @@.player;"Alright, alright, calm down,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm not giving you anything more than that."@@ @@.girl;"Nooo, come on!"@@ Ashley groans. @@.girl;"You can't just drop a bomb like that and leave us hanging."@@ @@.girl;"You're lucky we don't force you to tell us,"@@ Tori says. @@.girl;"But seriously, give us //something//. Like, does she at least go to Pacific Crest?"@@ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ Jessica leans back against the couch, her smile softening as she watches you. @@.jessica;"Leave him alone, guys,"@@ she says, her tone light. @@.jessica;"If he wants to keep it private, that's his choice. Right, $name?"@@ You glance at her, surprised but grateful for the rescue. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ There's a flicker of something in her expression—just for a moment, so brief you might've imagined it. A little spark in her eyes, a slight shift in her smile. But before you can dwell on it, she shrugs, tossing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. @@.jessica;"Don't get too comfortable, by the way. I'm still going to figure it out eventually."@@ <<else>>\ Jessica, who's been quieter than usual, leans back against the couch. @@.jessica;"Fine, we'll back off—for now,"@@ she says, holding up her hands to call a truce. @@.jessica;"But don't think you're off the hook forever, $name. I //will// figure it out eventually."@@ The rest of the group groans but takes Jessica's lead. Jessica winks playfully before popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth, clearly satisfied with her declaration. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You shrug, feeling the weight of everyone's expectant stares. @@.player;"Honestly?"@@ you begin. @@.player;"I'm not crushing on anyone right now."@@ @@.girl;"What?! No crush? Not even a //tiny// one?"@@ Mia groans, flopping dramatically onto the couch as if she's just heard the most tragic news of her life. She grabs a pillow and throws it at you, although it ends up landing harmlessly at your feet. @@.girl;"That's so boring,"@@ Ashley agrees, shaking her head with mock disappointment. @@.girl;"You're telling me there's not //one// person at school who's caught your eye? Like, no one?"@@ You laugh nervously, holding up your hands defensively. @@.player;"What can I say? I'm too focused on cheerleading."@@ Tori giggles, reaching for a handful of popcorn. @@.girl;"Alright, that's fair. But there's got to be someone you think is cute. Even if it's just a random celebrity or something."@@ Jessica waves them all off, rolling her eyes but smiling. @@.jessica;"Hey, leave $name alone! Not everyone has to be crushing on someone 24/7. Maybe $name's just too mature for us and has other things to worry about."@@ @@.girl;"Or,"@@ a girl interjects, @@.girl;"he's secretly crushing on someone and is just too scared to admit it."@@ @@.player;"You guys are relentless,"@@ you say, shaking your head as the room bursts into laughter. @@.jessica;"Of course we are,"@@ Jessica replies, grinning as she tosses a piece of popcorn at you. @@.jessica;"You should've known this would happen when you joined the squad. Welcome to the chaos."@@ @@.girl;"Ugh, fine,"@@ Ashley says. @@.girl;"Hey, he gets the pass—for now. But we will revisit this."@@ Jessica leans forward, spinning the bottle again to move the game along. @@.jessica;"Okay, next victim!"@@ she says with a wicked grin. <</if>>\ <<button "Keep playing" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 3">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d12dare is true>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<set $outfit to 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "JessicaDress">>\ Standing in front of the mirror, you hold the dress up. For a moment, you hesitate, staring at your reflection. The pink fabric looks almost out of place compared to what you usually wear, but there's something about it that pulls you in. You sigh, your face already burning with embarrassment. @@.player;"They're never going to let me live this down,"@@ you mutter, pulling the cheerleading top off. The dress feels impossibly soft as you pull it over your head, the cool fabric brushing against your skin. You fumble with the straps a little, adjusting them so they fit properly on your shoulders. The bodice hugs your torso in a way that feels foreign but not uncomfortable. You smooth the skirt down, the layers of fabric settling around you like a gentle cloud. <<if $transgender > 9>>\ Stepping back, you glance at yourself in the mirror, and your breath catches. You look different. The floral pattern, the puffed sleeves, the delicate bows—its just all so far removed from anything you'd normally wear. The dress transforms your reflection into something more whimsical, almost like you've stepped out of a fairytale. Your hands nervously smooth the skirt again, feeling the lightweight layers sway with even the slightest movement. It's... cute. You hate to admit it, especially to yourself, but it's //really// cute. You turn slightly, examining yourself from the side. The way the skirt flares out when you move makes you feel oddly graceful, like you're floating. For a moment, you forget about the squad waiting outside and the teasing that's bound to follow. All you can think about is how strange—and fun—it feels to see yourself like this. <<else>>\ You glance at yourself in the mirror, and your breath hitches for all the wrong reasons. The floral pattern, the puffed sleeves, the delicate bows—it all feels so alien, so out of place on you. It's like staring at someone else entirely, someone you don't recognize and definitely aren't sure you want to meet. The dress doesn't just feel wrong—it makes //you// feel wrong. You shift uncomfortably, tugging at the straps and fidgeting with the skirt. The lightweight fabric sways with every movement, reminding you of just how out of your element you are. For a brief moment, you consider taking it off, storming out of the bathroom, and declaring the dare a bust. But it's just a dare, right? It doesn't mean anything. @@.player;"It's fine,"@@ you mutter to yourself, forcing your hands to stop fidgeting. @@.player;"It's just a stupid dress. It doesn't matter."@@ <</if>>\ A sharp knock on the door makes you jump. @@.girl;"$name, you alive in there?"@@ Tori calls out. @@.player;"I'm fine!"@@ you shout back. @@.jessica;"Better hurry!"@@ Jessica teases. <<button "Step out" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 4">><</button>> <<else>>\ The bottle spins again, and this time, it lands squarely on Jessica. The room goes wild with cheers and laughter as everyone leans in, eager to see what'll happen. @@.jessica;"Alright, bring it on,"@@ Jessica says, grinning confidently. @@.jessica;"Truth."@@ The squad looks at each other, murmuring ideas, but you clear your throat first. @@.player;"Hold up,"@@ you say, feeling a grin of your own creeping onto your face. @@.player;"I'm asking this one."@@ The room erupts in "ooohs" as all eyes turn to you. Jessica arches an eyebrow, her smirk unwavering. @@.jessica;"Alright, $name,"@@ she says, resting her chin in her hand. @@.jessica;"Let's see what you've got for me."@@ You pause for dramatic effect before offering up the question. <<button "If you had to date someone on the football team, who would it be?" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 4">>\<<set $d12truthjess to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_truth_jess_question" "If you had to date someone on the football team, who would it be?" "story">><</button>> <<button "Did you ever crush on a cartoon character as a kid?" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 4">>\<<set $d12truthjess to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_truth_jess_question" "Did you ever crush on a cartoon character as a kid?" "story">><</button>> <<button "Have you ever had a crush on anyone on the cheer squad?" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 4">>\<<set $d12truthjess to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_truth_jess_question" "Have you ever had a crush on anyone on the cheer squad?" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d12dare is true>>\ <<if $transgender > 9>>\ The moment you step out of the bathroom, the room explodes. @@.jessica;"Oh. My. God,"@@ Jessica says, her hands flying to her face in astonishment. Her wide grin shows she's absolutely thrilled with the result. @@.jessica;"$name, you look... //adorable//. Like, ridiculously cute."@@ Mia claps her hands together, bouncing in place. @@.girl;"I knew it! I called it! I //knew// you'd look amazing in that dress. Like, look at you—it's like you were made to wear this."@@ You groan, trying to play it cool as you awkwardly tug at the hem of the dress. @@.player;"Alright, alright, you've had your fun. Can I take it off now?"@@ @@.jessica;"''Absolutely not,''"@@ Jessica says firmly, stepping forward and gently swatting your hands away from the skirt. @@.jessica;"You're not taking it off yet. It looks way too good on you."@@ Another girl crosses her arms, her expression amused. @@.girl;"It's unfair how cute you look right now. I don't know if even Jessica can wear it after this."@@ Your face burns as you throw your hands up in frustration. @@.player;"Okay, enough with all the 'cute' stuff, alright? This is just for the dare."@@ @@.girl;"Oh yeah, of course,"@@ Mia says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. @@.girl;"It's just for the dare, right? Nothing to do with how amazing you look or how much you're secretly enjoying it. Right?"@@ You shoot her a glare, but before you can say anything, Jessica steps in. @@.jessica;"Come on, $name, you've got to admit it—you look amazing,"@@ she says. She takes a second, studying you with an approving smile. @@.jessica;"Actually, you know what? You should keep wearing it. It suits you."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you say, blinking at her in disbelief. @@.player;"You seriously want me to just... stay in this?"@@ @@.girl;"Why not?"@@ Ashley asks, shrugging. @@.girl;"You've already got it on. Might as well own it."@@ Another girl giggles, wanting to join in the teasing. @@.girl;"You know, you could totally pass for a princess in that dress. $name, the royal cheerleader!"@@ @@.player;"Stop!"@@ you groan, burying your face in your hands as the squad erupts into laughter. Despite the relentless teasing, there's no malice in their voices—just a playful warmth. Jessica pats your shoulder, her tone gentler now. @@.jessica;"Relax, $name. You're rocking it, I swear. No one here's going to make you feel bad about keeping it on."@@ Her words calm you slightly, and you exhale, letting your hands drop. @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you say, rolling your eyes. @@.player;"I'll keep it on. But only because you're all //forcing// me to."@@ @@.girl;"Sure, sure,"@@ Tori says. @@.girl;"Whatever helps you sleep better."@@ You settle back into the group, still acutely aware of how the dress swishes with every movement, but the atmosphere is so welcoming that you let yourself relax a little. For now, you'll let them have their fun—and, if you're being honest with yourself, you might even be having a little fun too. <<else>>\ As soon as you step out of the bathroom, the squad bursts into laughter and cheers. @@.jessica;"$name, oh my God,"@@ Jessica says, doubling over as she claps her hands. @@.jessica;"You look so //cute//!"@@ You groan, tugging at the hem of the dress awkwardly. @@.player;"Alright, you've had your fun. Can I take this off now?"@@ @@.girl;"No way,"@@ Mia says. @@.girl;"You have to at least keep it on for a bit. Rules are rules. And honestly? You're rocking it."@@ @@.player;"I hate this,"@@ you mutter, crossing your arms. @@.jessica;"Oh come on, it'll be fine,"@@ Jessica says, patting your shoulder. You huff, feeling heat crawl up your face as the squad laughs and teases you. Despite their energy, you're counting the seconds until this dare is over. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d12truthjess is 0>>\ @@.player;"If you had to date someone on the football team, who would it be?"@@ you ask. Jessica's grin falters for the briefest of moments when you ask the question. Her confident posture shifts slightly as she bites her lip. The rest of the squad erupts into laughter and squeals of anticipation, clearly thinking you've just thrown her the curveball of the night. @@.girl;"Oh my God, $name,"@@ a girl gasps, clutching her stomach as she laughs. @@.girl;"That's brutal."@@ Ashley fans herself dramatically. @@.girl;"This is about to be //good//. Spill, Jess."@@ Jessica forces a light laugh. @@.jessica;"Wow, you really went for it, huh?"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Come on, Jess, you //have// to answer,"@@ Tori says, leaning forward eagerly. @@.girl;"it's the rules!"@@ Jessica hesitates, her eyes darting around the room. Finally, she leans back, crossing her arms in mock exasperation. @@.jessica;"Alright, fine. If I absolutely //had// to date someone on the football team..."@@ She pauses dramatically. @@.jessica;"Probably Luke,"@@ she blurts out finally, sounding forced. The room explodes with laughter and cheers. @@.girl;"Luke?!"@@ a girl shrieks. @@.girl;"Oh my God, you'd destroy him! He's, like, the goofiest guy on the team."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, but he's, like, sweet,"@@ Jessica says quickly. @@.jessica;"And funny. I think."@@ Mia giggles. @@.girl;"Okay, but can you imagine Luke trying to have a deep, meaningful conversation? So, uh, do you like... football?"@@ The room dissolves into another round of laughter, and the entire squad teases Jessica. Jessica takes it for a while, but eventually leans over to grab a handful of popcorn, clearly trying to signal the end of her turn. @@.jessica;"Alright, can we move on now? Or are we going to keep psychoanalyzing my nonexistent football romance?"@@ @@.girl;"Fine, we'll move on,"@@ Mia says, rolling her eyes. <<elseif $d12truthjess is 1>> You grin mischievously, the perfect question forming in your mind. Jessica narrows her eyes at you, sensing trouble. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. @@.player;"Did you, Jessica Sanders, ever have a crush on a cartoon character as a kid?"@@ The room bursts into laughter and excited reactions. @@.girl;"Good one, $name!"@@ a girl exclaims. Jessica freezes for a moment, caught off guard, before leaning back and putting on an air of confidence. @@.jessica;"Oh please. Like I'm going to get embarrassed by that question. Everyone crushed on a cartoon character as a kid."@@ @@.girl;"Well, then spill!"@@ Mia urges. @@.girl;"Come on, Jess. Who was it?"@@ Jessica rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. @@.jessica;"Okay, fine, but don't laugh,"@@ she starts. @@.jessica;"When I was, like, seven, I might've had a tiny crush on... Starfire. From //Teen Titans//."@@ The room goes quiet for a moment and then erupts into playful chaos. @@.girl;"Starfire?!"@@ a girl laughs. @@.girl;"Oh my God, I can totally see that."@@ @@.girl;"Well, she is pretty cute, though,"@@ Ashley says, nodding thoughtfully. @@.girl;"I mean, she's got the whole sweet, bubbly thing going on. i get it."@@ Jessica's rambling starts before she realizes what she's doing. @@.jessica;"Right? Like, she was so nice and kind of innocent but also //badass// when she needed to be. Plus, her hair was amazing, and she had that cute way of talking with, like, the weird phrases and—"@@ She stops mid-sentence, her eyes going wide as she realizes how much she's just said. The room falls into a brief, stunned silence, and you can see the faintest flicker of panic on her face. @@.jessica;"Uh, I mean... who didn't have a crush on Starfire, right?"@@ she blurts out, her voice suddenly louder and overly casual. @@.jessica;"She's, like, objectively cool, and, um, it's not weird or anything. Everyone thought she was cute, no?"@@ Jessica fumbles with a piece of popcorn, popping it into her mouth as if that will somehow erase the last 30 seconds. Ashley raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. @@.girl;"Jessica, you just talked about Starfire like she was your soulmate."@@ @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ Mia chimes in, her grin mischievous. @@.girl;"Is there something you wanna share with the class, Ms. Sanders?"@@ Jessica laughs—too loudly—and waves them off. @@.jessica;"No, no, no. You guys are just reading into things way too much. It was just a dumb childhood thing."@@ She looks around, her smile strained, but nobody presses her further. The teasing simmers down, though you notice her glancing around nervously. For a moment, you think about saying something, but the game spins on, and the attention shifts to the next person. <<else>>\ You try your best to keep your expression neutral, though you're grinning on the inside. @@.player;"Alright, Jessica,"@@ you say, locking eyes with her. @@.player;"Have you ever had a crush on anyone on the cheer squad?"@@ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ Jessica's grin falters ever so slightly, and she doesn't look quite as confident as she usually does. The room erupts in gasps and laughter at your question, with Mia practically falling off the couch. The queen bee laughs nervously, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair from her face as she straightens up on the couch. @@.jessica;"Wow, $name,"@@ she says, keeping her tone light. @@.jessica;"Way to hit me with the big guns, huh?"@@ You shrug, trying to maintain an innocent facade. @@.player;"You said to bring something juicy."@@ The group is fully focused on her now, their anticipation thick in the air. Jessica shifts slightly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. @@.jessica;"But no, I don't have a crush on anyone here,"@@ Jessica says, her voice having the slightest tremble. @@.girl;"Lame,"@@ Mia complains. @@.jessica;"Hate to break it to you, but I'm enjoying the single life,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Hey, blame $name for asking a bad question. He should've known I'm immune to this."@@ <<else>>\ The room explodes immediately as the squad whoops in excitement. Jessica, to her credit, keeps her cool. @@.jessica;"First of all, //no//,"@@ she says, holding up a hand like she's silencing a courtroom. @@.jessica;"I've never had a crush on anyone on the squad."@@ The room groans in exaggerated disappointment. @@.girl;"Lame,"@@ Mia complains. @@.jessica;"What do you guys think this is, some kind of soap opera?"@@ Jessica snorts. @@.jessica;"Like I'm secretly pining over one of you? Please. As if. Like, the squad is family. Do you have a crush on your cousins? No? Exactly."@@ @@.girl;"You're letting us down, Jessica,"@@ Tori jokes, shaking her head in disappointment. Jessica shrugs, grinning as she grabs a handful of popcorn. @@.jessica;"Hey, blame $name for asking a bad question. He should've known I'm immune to this."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Hangout 1">><</button>>

You suggest playing truth or dare, and the room immediately lights up. @@.girl;"Yes!"@@ Mia exclaims, almost knocking over a bowl of popcorn as she sits up straight. @@.girl;"It's been //forever// since we played that."@@ @@.girl;"Forever as in, what, a week?"@@ Tori teases, grinning as she grabs a soda. @@.jessica;"Oh it's on!"@@ Jessica exclaims. @@.jessica;"Get ready, $name. We don't play nice in this house."@@ @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ Mia adds with a wicked grin. @@.girl;"No wimpy truths or lame dares. We're going all in. No mercy."@@ Jessica grabs a soda bottle from the table, plopping it in the center of the group. @@.jessica;"Let the madness begin!"@@ she declares, spinning it with a flourish. The bottle lands on a girl you don't know first. @@.jessica;"Truth or dare?"@@ Jessica asks, a scary grin on her face. The girl smirks. @@.girl;"Dare, obviously."@@ Jessica's eyes light up. @@.jessica;"Alright. I dare you to go out in your uniform, run outside, and do a cartwheel in front of the neighbor's house while doing the school chant at the top of your lungs."@@ The room explodes with laughter, and the girl groans, throwing her head back. @@.girl;"You're evil. You know that, right?"@@ Jessica just shrugs. @@.jessica;"Rules are rules, girl."@@ The girl mutters a string of curses under her breath as she marches off. A few moments later, she's outside, spinning and chanting at full volume while you all peek out the window, nearly crying from laughing so hard. @@.girl;"Let's fight, Panthers! Blue and white, we own the night!"@@ When she comes back, red-faced and panting, she collapses dramatically onto the couch. @@.girl;"You all are the //worst//,"@@ she says. The bottle spins again and lands on Mia. @@.girl;"Truth or dare?"@@ a girl asks. Mia doesn't even hesitate. @@.girl;"Dare. Bring it the hell on."@@ @@.girl;"I dare you to call Jordan and tell him you think he should try out for the cheer squad because he'd //totally// rock a skirt."@@ @@.girl;"Fine,"@@ Mia says, grabbing her phone. @@.girl;"But if he thinks I've lost my mind, I'm blaming you."@@ You all fall silent as she dials Jordan's number, putting the call on speaker. When he picks up, his voice is as cold and serious as ever. @@.jordan;"What is it?"@@ @@.girl;"Hey, Jordan!"@@ Mia says, her tone overly chipper. @@.girl;"So, we were all talking, and I just know you'd kill it as a cheerleader. Like the skirt? That would totally fit your vibe."@@ There's a long pause on the other end, and then Jordan hangs up without a word. The room explodes into hysterics. The bottle spins again and lands on Ashley. @@.jessica;"Truth or dare?"@@ Jessica asks. Ashley smirks. @@.girl;"Dare."@@ Jessica taps her chin, clearly plotting something outrageous. @@.jessica;"Okay, I dare you to text your ex and ask if you want to get back together. Right now."@@ Ashley's jaw drops. @@.girl;"Jessica, are you kidding me?! No way!"@@ @@.girl;"You said dare!"@@ another girl chimes in. @@.girl;"Rules are rules."@@ With a dramatic groan, Ashley picks up her phone and starts typing, her face twisted in horror. When she presses send, she gasps. @@.girl;"He read it, he read it!"@@ Ashley says. @@.girl;"He's replying right now!"@@ @@.jessica;"What is he saying?"@@ Jessica asks, as all of you lean in. Ashley's phone buzzes, a response coming in. Jessica reads it out loud. @@.jessica;"'Ashley, what the fuck?'"@@ @@.girl;"I HATE YOU ALL!"@@ Ashley yells as the room dissolves into chaos. Finally, the bottle spins and lands squarely on you. All eyes turn to you, their collective grins pure mischief. Jessica rubs her hands together like a cartoon villain. @@.jessica;"Truth or dare, $name?"@@ she asks, her voice dripping with anticipation. You hesitate, knowing you're about to walk into the lion's den either way. <<button "Dare" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 1">>\<<set $d12dare to true>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_truth_or_dare" "dare" "story">><</button>> <<button "Truth" "Day 12 - Hangout TOD 1">>\<<set $d12dare to false>>\<<trackChoice "D12_hangout_truth_or_dare" "truth" "story">><</button>>

<<set $csquadbond to Math.clamp($csquadbond + 5, 0, 100)>>\ The drive to Jessica's house is filled with chatter and laughter, the kind of energy that only really comes from a team riding the high of a big win. When you finally arrive, Jessica pulls into the driveway of a large, modern house that practically screams comfort and style. The front yard is meticulously kept, with soft outdoor lights illuminating the stone pathway leading to the door. @@.jessica;"Alright, everyone, welcome to my humble abode,"@@ Jessica says, stepping out of the car. She unlocks the front door and pushes it open, revealing an inviting interior with high ceilings, plush furniture, and warm lighting. @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you murmur, stepping inside. @@.jessica;"Make yourselves at home,"@@ Jessica says, tossing her keys onto a nearby table. @@.jessica;"Living room's straight ahead. I'll grab the snacks."@@ As you step into the spacious living room, you notice a massive couch in front of a huge flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. A soft throw blanket is draped over the back of the couch. @@.girl;"This place is as insane as I remember it being,"@@ Mia says, plopping down onto the couch and stretching out. @@.girl;"Jess, I'm officially moving in."@@ @@.girl;"You'll have to fight me for it,"@@ Ashley jokes, settling onto the other end of the couch. Jessica reappears a few minutes later, her arms laden with snacks: bowls of chips, cookies, candy, and a few cans of soda. @@.jessica;"Here we go!"@@ she announces, setting everything down on the coffee table. Tori grabs a can of soda and cracks it open. @@.girl;"Alright, so, what's the game plan for tonight? Are we doing movies, games, gossiping? I'm down for all of the above."@@ @@.jessica;"Hmm, $name,"@@ Jessica says, turning to you with a teasing smile, @@.jessica;"Since this is your first official team hangout, you get to pick what we do first."@@ <<set $d12hangoutnum to 0>>\ <<set $d12hangoutactivity0 to false>>\ <<set $d12hangoutactivity1 to false>>\ <<set $d12hangoutactivity2 to false>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Hangout 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/restroom.png"> <<if $recentTransformation is "breasts1">>\ You look down, having just grown boobs. Boobs. On your body. You can't help but feel \ <<if $transgender > 9>>\ happy for some reason. You don't know why, but you do feel a little happy. <<else>>\ nervous. <</if>>\ You think they're small enough that nobody will notice them for now, but you don't know what you'll do if they grow further. You decide to leave that for later though. <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 2">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts2">>\ <<set $afterEvent to "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 2">>\ You look down, realizing your boobs just grew. You gasp, realizing you can't hide them anymore. This is something you have to address. <<button "Address the issue" "Event - Breasts">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts3">>\ You realize your boobs just grew even more. You have medium-sized breasts now, and they are very noticeable. You've already decided to \ <<if $eventBind is true>>\ bind them so that nobody will notice you've grown boobs. It'll be uncomfortable, but something you have to deal with. <<else>>\ just leave them be regardless of if people notice you've grown boobs. You sigh and wonder what you'll tell your parents. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ You realize you just changed again, but luckily it's a part you can hide. You breathe a sigh of relief. <<button "Continue" "Day 12 - Game Cheerleader 2">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 13>>\ <<set $top to 0>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ You wake up feeling... off. Not groggy or tired—just //off//. It's like your body is already aware of something your mind hasn't caught up to yet. The kind of feeling where you're not sure if you woke up naturally or if //something// woke you up. Everything is still quiet except for the distant hum of the world waking up outside. There wasn't an alarm or some other noise that woke you up. It's just you, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling like the universe is holding its breath. Then your phone buzzes. It's just one buzz. Short. Deliberate. You roll over, grab your phone, and squint at the screen. A text. From ''Aurora''. @mystic_aurora: @@.aurora;Meet me in the woods. Now.@@ Your brain takes a second to process what you just read. It's just a command. Simple and direct, sure, but a little unsettling. You would usually brush it off, roll over, and go back to sleep. But instead, a wave of... ''something'' rolls over you—a pull, a weight, a whisper in the back of your mind telling you that you need to go. You don't remember exactly when you decided to move, but you're suddenly on your feet, slipping out of bed. The air in your room feels heavier, like a storm is about to break. You're headed to the door in an instant, the grogginess that you felt a few seconds ago disappearing. Outside, the air is crisp and fresh, the kind that wakes you up completely. The world is waking up—birds chirping, leaves rustling—but none of it matters to you. Your eyes are already drawn to the woods, standing quiet and steady in the distance. The pull that you feel isn't weird or wrong, it just feels inevitable. Like something you //have// to do. Deep down, you just know that there's something in those trees you're meant to learn. Something you need to understand. And so, without another thought, you start walking. <<button "The woods await" "Day 13 - 2">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<grantAchievement "LearnMagic">>\ The house is dark and quiet when you step inside. The air is cooler and carries the stillness that only comes late at night when most of the world has already gone to sleep. You move carefully, closing the door behind you as quickly as possible. There aren't any voices from the living room or footsteps from upstairs. Good. You made it back late, but not so late that someone would be waiting up. Still, you're not taking any chances. You toe off your shoes, stepping lightly as you make your way toward the stairs. Each step is slow and deliberate, avoiding the exact spots you know will creak. You've done this enough times to know the route—the way to maneuver around your house without a sound. You go up the stairs and slip down the hallway until you reach your room. You twist the doorknob carefully, easing the door open just enough to slip inside before shutting it again with a soft click. Home. Finally. The darkness presses around you, but it's familiar. Your bed is still there, waiting. The exhaustion is already setting in. You just collapse onto your bed, the mattress dipping under your weight as you bury your face into the pillow. <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ Your eyes flick to the bedside table, where a bottle of lotion sits, innocuous and ordinary. Yet tonight, it seems to hold a world of possibilities. You feel a stirring within you, a warmth that spreads from your core, making your body ache with a desire you've been wanting. You shift slightly, feeling the smooth sheets beneath you, and your breath hitches as the fabric brushes against your sensitive skin. Your heart pounds in your chest, a steady rhythm that echoes in your ears. You can't help but let your mind wander, imagining the forbidden pleasure that awaits. <<button "Masturbate" "Day 13 - Masturbation">>\<<set $d13masturbate to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Decide not to" "Day 13 - 11">>\<<set $d13masturbate to false>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ As your body finally relaxes, you let your thoughts slip away. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ An adult scene is not present here due to your preferences. </div>\ <<button "Go to sleep" "Day 13 - 11">>\<<set $d13masturbate to false>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $nude to 0>>\ Lying on your bed, you stare at the ceiling, your mind slow but full. Magic. The word feels bigger than it did this morning. It's no longer just a vague concept, something distant and mysterious. It's real, thrumming beneath your skin, shaping you, responding to you in ways you never thought possible. You let out a slow breath, turning your head toward the window. The night is deep now, the sky inky black, stars scattered faintly across it. The moon hangs low, its glow casting soft shadows across your walls. The world outside feels vast—too big to think about and too distant to touch. But the world inside of you? The one humming with magic? That one feels closer than ever. You close your eyes, letting the thoughts drift. Aurora's sharp, knowing gaze. Amber's smirk, the ease in her voice. Milo's boundless energy, his excitement at seeing you succeed. You're not alone in this. You don't know what that means yet, what any of this means for the future, but the uncertainty doesn't feel so overwhelming anymore. You have magic. You have control. And you're just getting started. A slow warmth settles over you, easing into your muscles, sinking into your bones. The weight of the day finally catches up, pulling at your thoughts and softening the edges of consciousness. Your breathing evens out, the sounds of the house fade away, and sleep takes hold. <<button "Drift off" "Day 14 - 1">><</button>>

The trees seem to close in as you step off the beaten path, moving deeper into the woods. The sunlight barely filters through the canopy, casting dappled shadows over the cool earth. The air carries a different feeling here. It's more charged, more alive. And you just know that Aurora is waiting for you. The further you walk, the more the feeling intensifies, humming beneath your skin like something unseen is guiding you forward. And then, after a few more steps, you spot her. Aurora stands near an old, gnarled tree, arms crossed as she watches you with her usual unreadable expression. She doesn't look surprised to see you here, if anything, she looks like she expected you to arrive the moment you did. <<if $club is 1>>\ Next to her, perched on a moss-covered rock, is Milo. You recognize him instantly—his messy brown curls, the constant, restless energy humming beneath his skin, and the way he always seems to be on the verge of bouncing off the walls. You've spent enough time with him in the first Occult Club meeting to know that if Milo is involved, things are about to get weird. The second he spots you, he launches to his feet, practically vibrating. @@.boy;"Oh, finally! I was this close to sending a search party for you, $name."@@ Aurora exhales through her nose, unimpressed. @@.aurora;"Milo, it's the crack of dawn."@@ @@.boy;"Exactly!"@@ Milo says, spinning toward her. @@.boy;"The best time for magic is before the world is fully awake. That's just how it is, everyone knows that."@@ Aurora lifts an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"Do they?"@@ @@.boy;"They should."@@ He turns back to you, grinning. @@.boy;"Right, $name? Back me up here."@@ You blink, still trying to process why they've dragged you out here. @@.player;"Milo, I literally just woke up."@@ @@.boy;"That's perfect!"@@ he says, clapping his hands together. @@.boy;"That means your mind is still in a liminal state. Prime condition for learning new things."@@ Aurora shoots him a flat look. @@.aurora;"Or, it more likely means he's not awake enough to argue with you."@@ Milo shrugs. @@.boy;"Same thing."@@ <<else>>\ Next to her, perched on a moss-covered rock, is a boy you don't recognize. He's younger than both of you, clearly a freshman or sophomore, and has messy brown curls and a wide grin. His clothes are slightly rumpled, like he never stands still long enough to fix them. His eyes have a light that buzzes with energy. The moment he sees you, he hops to his feet, bouncing on the balls of his shoes like he can't contain himself. @@.boy;"Oh, finally!"@@ the boy says, throwing his hands up. @@.boy;"I thought you were gonna sleep forever!"@@ Aurora exhales through her nose, unimpressed. @@.aurora;"Milo, it's the crack of dawn."@@ @@.boy;"Exactly!"@@ Milo says, spinning toward her. @@.boy;"The best time for magic is before the world is fully awake. That's just how it is, everyone knows that."@@ Aurora lifts an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"Do they?"@@ @@.boy;"Well, I don't know, but they should."@@ <</if>>\ You take a second to take in the scene. ''Magic.'' That's what this is all about. That's why you were drawn here, why you felt the need to come. You look at Aurora. @@.player;"So... what's this?"@@ She tilts her head slightly, watching you carefully, almost like she's assessing how much you're ready to hear. @@.aurora;"I suppose this is where you start understanding what's happening to you."@@ Your stomach tightens. This is about the ''$referto''. Milo bounces forward. @@.boy;"You're so lucky, you know that? Most people just stumble through life without ever realizing what's really out there. But you? You've got a head start."@@ Aurora shoots him a look, and the boy immediately lifts his hands in surrender. @@.boy;"What? I'm just being honest here!"@@ You glance between them, your heart beating a little faster. @@.player;"So, are you going to tell me what's going on?"@@ Aurora holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. @@.aurora;"Yes."@@ Milo claps his hands together, vibrating with excitement. @@.boy;"This is gonna be so much fun."@@ You're not sure if fun is the word you'd use here. But either way, you're here now. And you know there's no turning back. <<set $auroraForestCG to true>>\ <<include "CG_AuroraForest">>\ <<button "The curse and the seer" "Day 13 - 3">><</button>>

Aurora watches you carefully, the weight of the moment settling between you. The air is still like the woods themselves are waiting. Even Milo has gone quiet, his usual bounce muted as he glances between you and Aurora. @@.aurora;"I'm sure you remember Madame Serena,"@@ Aurora finally says. Your stomach twists at the name. Of course you remember her. The Autumn Festival. The seer's tent. The heavy scent of incense. The way her voice curled around each word like she was weaving them. The sharp chill that had run down your spine when she looked at you—really looked at you. And then the $referto. You still remember the words she left you with: @@.serena;"The mirror will reveal your truth, piece by piece, until you learn."@@ You swallow hard. @@.player;"Yeah. I remember her."@@ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"She's the one who put the spell on you."@@ You exhale sharply. @@.player;"Trust me, I've figured that part out already."@@ @@.aurora;"But do you know why?"@@ @@.player;"Well, I recorded her, but I was just messing around. But she got mad. And then she—"@@ You gesture vaguely at yourself. @@.player;"—did this."@@ Milo lets out a low whistle. @@.boy;"That's rough. You ticked off Madame Serena? She doesn't do things halfway."@@ You turn to him. @@.player;"You know her?"@@ @@.boy;"I mean, everyone who knows anything about magic knows of her,"@@ he says, shrugging. @@.boy;"Madame Serena's the real deal. She's been around forever, and no one really knows where she came from. She's creepy, dude. It's like she sees into your soul."@@ Aurora crosses her arms. @@.aurora;"She doesn't curse people for no reason."@@ @@.player;"Are you sure?"@@ You let out a dry laugh. @@.player;"Because it kind of felt like she did."@@ Aurora shakes her head. @@.aurora;"Madame Serena doesn't waste magic on random acts of revenge. Especially with how strong the spell she put on you is. There was a purpose to what she did to you. Even if she didn't explain it."@@ @@.player;"So what, she cursed me as a lesson? A punishment? What is it?"@@ @@.aurora;"Maybe. Or maybe she saw something in you that you haven't seen yet, $name."@@ @@.serena;"The mirror will reveal your truth."@@ You exhale. @@.player;"I already talked to her. She said she can't undo the spell."@@ @@.aurora;"That's not why I called you here,"@@ Aurora says, holding your gaze. @@.aurora;"If Madame Serena can't undo the spell, I certainly can't. I'm here to give you answers."@@ Milo perks up. @@.boy;"That's why we're here!"@@ He gestures between himself and Aurora. @@.boy;"You've got so much to learn first."@@ You glance at Aurora. @@.player;"Learn what, exactly?"@@ She tilts her head slightly. @@.aurora;"About magic."@@ The word hangs between you, heavy with meaning. Milo grins. @@.boy;"And trust me—you're gonna love this part."@@ <<button "Get your first lesson" "Day 13 - 4">><</button>>

@@.aurora;"Magic isn't just waving your hands around and making things happen,"@@ Aurora says. @@.boy;"Well, actually, it can be,"@@ Milo chimes in. @@.boy;"If you're really good, you can, like, summon fire with your hands and then—"@@ Aurora shoots him a look, and he immediately shuts up. He still bounces on his heels though, clearly eager for whatever's about to happen next. @@.player;"So what is it then?"@@ you ask, crossing your arms. @@.aurora;"It's an interaction. A connection. It's about taking something you can't see and shaping it into something useful."@@ @@.player;"That's really vague."@@ @@.boy;"That's because it //is// vague,"@@ Milo explains. @@.boy;"Magic's different for everyone. You could give the same spell to ten different people and get ten different results. It all depends on how you work with it."@@ @@.aurora;"The spell that's on you right now is magic,"@@ Aurora adds. @@.aurora;"It's affecting you because it follows rules you don't quite understand yet. If you want to break or control it, you need to start learning those rules."@@ The idea of breaking the curse makes something inside you stir. \ <<if $acceptance < 20>>\ You're desperate to finally understand what's happening to you and maybe break this curse soon. <<else>>\ You don't want to break the curse, weirdly enough. <</if>>\ @@.aurora;"Magic has different aspects, different ways it can be used. Some people are better at one thing than others. Some train to be well-rounded. You'll have to figure out where you stand."@@ Milo grins. @@.boy;"Which is why today's lesson is gonna be so fun!"@@ @@.player;"What is today's lesson?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.boy;"A test, obviously!"@@ Milo says, throwing his hands up. <<if $club is 1>>\ @@.aurora;"We know you have incredible potential, $name,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"But we still need to build more of a foundation before we start throwing spells at you."@@ <<else>>\ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"You need to figure out how you naturally interact with magic before we start throwing spells at you. Consider this a foundation."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"So, how are we going to do that?"@@ Milo claps his hands together, launching into an explanation. @@.boy;"We have options!"@@ He starts ticking them off using his fingers. @@.boy;"One—straight-up mana control. Can you even move magic without exploding? Two—spellcraft. Can you actually construct something, even a simple sigil or charm? What was I on again? Oh, I remember! Three—ritual knowledge. Can you recognize or understand basic magical symbols and processes? And four—mystical stamina. How long can you actually keep up with all this before your brain turns into soup?"@@ @@.aurora;"Not literally,"@@ Aurora clarifies. Then, after a beat. @@.aurora;"Well... Probably not."@@ @@.player;"That's not reassuring,"@@ you sigh. Milo just grins. @@.boy;"Welcome to magic!"@@ Aurora gestures toward the clearing. @@.aurora;"So. What do you want to test first?"@@ <<set $d13lessonnum to 0>>\ <<set $d13lesson0 to false>>\ <<set $d13lesson1 to false>>\ <<set $d13lesson2 to false>>\ <<set $d13lesson3 to false>>\ <<button "Test Mana Control" "Day 13 - Mana Control">>\<<set $d13lesson0 to true>><<set $d13lessonnum += 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Test Spellcraft" "Day 13 - Spellcraft">>\<<set $d13lesson1 to true>><<set $d13lessonnum += 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Test Ritual Knowledge" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge">>\<<set $d13lesson2 to true>><<set $d13lessonnum += 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Test Mystical Stamina" "Day 13 - Mystical Stamina">>\<<set $d13lesson3 to true>><<set $d13lessonnum += 1>>\<</button>>

<<if $d13lessonnum < 3>>\ You think about what you want to do next. <<if $d13lesson0 is false>>\ <<button "Test Mana Control" "Day 13 - Mana Control">>\<<set $d13lesson0 to true>><<set $d13lessonnum += 1>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $d13lesson1 is false>>\ <<button "Test Spellcraft" "Day 13 - Spellcraft">>\<<set $d13lesson1 to true>><<set $d13lessonnum += 1>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $d13lesson2 is false>>\ <<button "Test Ritual Knowledge" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge">>\<<set $d13lesson2 to true>><<set $d13lessonnum += 1>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $d13lesson3 is false>>\ <<button "Test Mystical Stamina" "Day 13 - Mystical Stamina">>\<<set $d13lesson3 to true>><<set $d13lessonnum += 1>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ Magic is exhausting. You don't know how long you've been at this, really. Time feels strange, stretched thin between the exercises, between the rush of magic flooding through you and the exhaustion settling deep in your bones. The morning sun has climbed higher, the golden sun filtering through the trees shifting as the hours slip by. You've tried everything you wanted to, and by the time you finish, you're barely holding yourself up. You lean against the nearest tree, breath coming in slow, heavy exhales. Your entire body feels drained like you've been running for hours, like every muscle is weighed down with invisible pressure. Milo claps you on the back, nearly knocking you over. @@.boy;"Okay, that was insane. Do you know how long it takes most people to even get a basic handle on this stuff?! And you just did it. First try. Every time."@@ You groan. @@.player;"Milo. Too loud."@@ He winces, lowering his voice. @@.boy;"Right, right. Sorry. But seriously, that was amazing."@@ Aurora steps forward, looking you over with an unreadable expression. @@.aurora;"You're done for now,"@@ she declares simply. @@.aurora;"We're moving on."@@ You push off the tree, still trying to catch your breath. @@.player;"What? I can still—"@@ @@.aurora;"No, you can't,"@@ her voice is steady, sharp in that way that leaves no room for argument. @@.aurora;"Look, $name, even you have limits. If you push yourself further you'll burn yourself out, and that's not going to help anyone."@@ You want to argue, but she's right. The ache in your body, the fog creeping into your thoughts—it's all too much. You never get this tired, not like this. Aurora tilts her head slightly, watching you. @@.aurora;"You're talented,"@@ she admits. @@.aurora;"More than anyone expected. But talent doesn't mean invincibility."@@ You sigh, finally nodding. @@.player;"Fine. What's next, then?"@@ @@.aurora;"You'll meet her."@@ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ <<button "Meet who?" "Day 13 - 6 (Trans)">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Meet who?" "Day 13 - 6 (Cis)">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

Aurora leads you deeper into the woods, past the clearing where you'd been training, past the familiar paths that still felt just grounded enough in reality. But the further you go, the more you feel it. There's something shifting, something different. The air is heavier, charged in a way that makes your skin prickle. Milo walks beside you, still buzzing with energy despite all the magic you'd thrown around earlier. @@.boy;"Alright, so, fair warning—Amber is intense."@@ Aurora shoots him a look. @@.aurora;"She's not intense."@@ @@.boy;"She's kind of intense,"@@ Milo argues. @@.boy;"In, like, a badass older sister kind of way. Which, to be clear, is a compliment."@@ You glance between them. @@.player;"Who is Amber?"@@ Aurora doesn't answer. The trees part ahead, revealing another small clearing. Leaning against one of the trees, arms crossed, is Amber. Amber is tall, taller than you, with auburn hair in a messy bun. A couple of loose strands frame her sharp features. She's dressed in a cropped leather jacket over a tank top, ripped jeans, and a pair of combat boots that look like they've seen actual battle. She radiates a kind of confidence that comes from knowing ''exactly'' who you are and not giving a fuck about anyone else's opinion on it. <<set $amberMeetingCG to true>>\ <<include "CG_AmberMeeting">>\ She tilts her head as you approach, looking you up and down like she's sizing you up. Then, without missing a beat— @@.amber;"So you're the kid with the gender curse."@@ Your brain short-circuits. @@.player;"Uh—"@@ Aurora sighs. @@.aurora;"Amber."@@ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ @@.amber;"What?"@@ Amber smirks, standing up straight. @@.amber;"That is what's happening, right?"@@ She looks at you again, raising an eyebrow. @@.amber;"Serena did a real number on you, huh?"@@ <<else>>\ @@.amber;"What?"@@ Amber smirks, standing up straight. @@.amber;"That is what's happening, right?"@@ She looks at you again, raising an eyebrow. @@.amber;"Looks like it hasn't changed you much though."@@ <</if>>\ You blink, still processing the sheer confidence this woman has. @@.player;"You know about my curse?"@@ Amber waves a hand. @@.amber;"Aurora told me. Word gets around in our little community when someone gets hit with magic they didn't ask for. Figured I'd check you out."@@ @@.player;"And why do you care?"@@ you ask, crossing your arms. @@.amber;"Why?"@@ Amber grins. @@.amber;"Because I've been where you are."@@ That makes you pause. Amber casually hops onto a stump, stretching her legs out in front of her. @@.amber;"I was fourteen when I first used magic to change my body. Took me a while to get it right, but I did. Haven't looked back since."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"Wait. You transformed yourself? Permanently?"@@ @@.amber;"Yeah, of course,"@@ Amber says, shrugging. @@.amber;"Why deal with waiting lists and insurance bullshit when you can just do it yourself? Magic is very convenient when you know what you're doing."@@ You try to wrap your head around that. Hearing Amber talk about it so casually, like it's as easy as changing your clothes, like it's normal— It makes your stomach twist. Amber must see something in your face because she leans forward, resting her arms on her knees. @@.amber;"Relax, kid. I'm not saying you have to do anything. You're not trans, right?"@@ You nod slowly. Amber shrugs. @@.amber;"Then cool. This isn't //your// path. But I thought you should know—magic and gender? Not a new combo."@@ She smirks. @@.amber;"You wouldn't believe how many people before you have bent the rules of reality to make their bodies feel right. Hell, half the witches I know have done something with their looks."@@ @@.boy;"Amber is kind of the resident expert on this stuff,"@@ Milo states, grinning. Amber turns back to you. @@.amber;"So, let's make this a two-way street. What do you want to know about me?"@@ <<button "How did you figure out magic could help you transition?" "Day 13 - 7">>\<<set $d13askamber to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D13_ask_amber" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "What's your deal with Aurora?" "Day 13 - 7">>\<<set $d13askamber to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D13_ask_amber" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Were you always this confident?" "Day 13 - 7">>\<<set $d13askamber to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D13_ask_amber" 2 "story">><</button>>

Aurora leads you into the woods, ignoring your questions. The deeper you go into the woods, the quieter it gets. Not in a creepy way—just a stillness, like the world is waiting. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, the morning warmth giving way to the cool shade under the canopy. You're still exhausted, but you push through it, following Aurora as she leads you along an almost invisible path through the undergrowth. Milo chatters beside you, still riding the high of everything you just pulled off. @@.boy;"I mean, seriously, $name, do you even realize how ridiculous that was? No one just //knows// magic like that. Don't even get me started on how—"@@ Aurora flicks her fingers, and Milo suddenly clamps his mouth shut, looking personally offended as if he's been betrayed. @@.aurora;"You'll get your energy soon enough,"@@ Aurora says over her shoulder. @@.aurora;"But for now, I want you to meet someone."@@ You frown, stepping over a root. @@.player;"Who?"@@ @@.aurora;"Amber,"@@ Aurora says simply. You hear her before you can even see her. A voice—cool, confident, effortlessly cool. @@.amber;"So this is the prodigy I've been hearing about?"@@ You glance up, and there she is—leaning against a tree with her arms crossed, one ankle resting over the other. She looks effortlessly composed, like she's been waiting for this moment but wasn't in any rush. <<set $amberMeetingCG to true>>\ <<include "CG_AmberMeeting">>\ Amber is tall, taller than you, with auburn hair in a messy bun. A couple of loose strands frame her sharp features. She's dressed in a cropped leather jacket over a tank top, ripped jeans, and a pair of combat boots that look like they've seen actual battle. She radiates a kind of confidence that comes from knowing ''exactly'' who you are and not giving a fuck about anyone else's opinion on it. Her eyes sweep over you, assessing—not in a judgmental; way, more like she's measuring something about you. Noticing things you don't even know about yourself yet. @@.amber;"Oh, nothing,"@@ she says, voice teasing. @@.amber;"Just confirming a suspicion."@@ You frown. @@.player;"What suspicion?"@@ She grins, tilting her head slightly and extending a hand. @@.amber;"Amber. I do magic, I don't take shit, and I heard about you from Aurora."@@ You shake her hand, feeling her firm and steady grip. When she lets go, she shoves her hands into her jacket pockets and leans back slightly, studying you again. Aurora exhales sharply. @@.aurora;"Amber."@@ @@.amber;"What?"@@ @@.aurora;"You could introduce yourself without making it dramatic."@@ Amber snorts. @@.amber;"That //was// the normal version."@@ She turns back to you, smirking. @@.amber;"Anyway, like I was saying—I had a suspicion about you, and now I'm pretty sure I was right."@@ Your stomach tightens slightly. @@.player;"Right about what?"@@ Amber's expression doesn't change, but there's something intentional in the way she watches you. It's like she's choosing her words carefully. @@.amber;"You're dealing with magic that's messing with your body,"@@ she says. @@.amber;"I've been there."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You—?"@@ She gestures vaguely to herself. @@.amber;"Let's just say I've had my share of experiences with magic and, uh, personal adjustments."@@ A hint of a smirk plays at her lips. @@.amber;"It's useful when you know how to work with it."@@ There's a beat of silence as you process that. She doesn't elaborate or make a big deal out of it. She just lets it settle between you. Milo, completely oblivious to the sudden weight in the conversation, bounces on his heels. @@.boy;"Amber's really good at this stuff, by the way. Not just magic, but like, figuring people out. It's kinda freaky."@@ Amber waves him off. @@.amber;"Please. It's not freaky, it's just experience."@@ She looks back at you, expression still relaxed, still unreadable. @@.amber;"But I get it. When magic gets involved in this kind of thing, it's never simple. And most people don't get it either."@@ @@.player;"You think you //get// my situation?"@@ you ask. Amber shrugs. @@.amber;"Not completely, no. That's your business. I just know what it looks like when magic is tangled up with identity."@@ You're not sure why, but her words make your chest feel tight. Aurora cuts in. @@.aurora;"Amber's not here to figure you out, $name. She just wanted to meet you."@@ @@.amber;"Yeah, Aurora doesn't talk about anyone unless they're worth knowing,"@@ Amber says, smirking. @@.amber;"So I'm here to see what you're all about."@@ Milo gasps. @@.boy;"Wait, is this a vibe check?!"@@ @@.amber;"Obviously,"@@ Amber deadpans. Aurora pinches the bridge of her nose. @@.aurora;"You could have just said you wanted to talk to him."@@ Amber ignores her, turning back to you. @@.amber;"So, let's make this a two-way street. What do you want to know about me?"@@ <<button "How did you figure out magic could help you transition?" "Day 13 - 7">>\<<set $d13askamber to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D13_ask_amber" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "What's your deal with Aurora?" "Day 13 - 7">>\<<set $d13askamber to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D13_ask_amber" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Were you always this confident?" "Day 13 - 7">>\<<set $d13askamber to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D13_ask_amber" 2 "story">><</button>>

<<if $d13askamber is 0>>\ @@.player;"How did you figure out magic could help you transition?"@@ you ask. Amber raises an eyebrow before letting out a low chuckle. @@.amber;"Going straight for the good stuff, huh?"@@ @@.player;"I mean, if magic can do something like that, wouldn't more people be talking about it?"@@ you ask, shrugging. Amber leans against a nearby tree. @@.amber;"Well, most people don't know magic is real, let alone what it can do. The few of us who do know don't exactly go around advertising it."@@ Milo flops down onto a fallen log, clearly invested in this conversation. @@.boy;"So, how did you figure it out?"@@ Amber hums as she thinks. @@.amber;"It wasn't just one big moment. No dramatic revelation, no ancient spellbook falling into my lap. It was more like... a bunch of little things stacking up. Things that didn't feel like they fit until they did."@@ She shifts her weight. @@.amber;"I always knew something was //off// about me. But magic? That came later. I started out with the small stuff—protection charms, sigils, dumb little spells to make my hair grow faster because I was impatient as hell. At first, I didn't even connect the two things. Magic was just... there. A thing I was good at. Something that made sense when nothing else did."@@ You listen carefully and realize that it's not just about magic. It's about her. Amber continues. @@.amber;"The real shift happened when I started experimenting with transformation spells. Most witches play around with it—glamours, illusion work, stuff like that. But I kept pushing. I wasn't interested in looking different for a few hours. I wanted something real."@@ You swallow. @@.player;"And it worked?"@@ Amber exhales through her nose, a faint smile on her face. @@.amber;"Not all at once, no. I screwed up a lot before I figured out what I was doing. There were days where things just felt wrong—where I didn't get the spell right or it faded too soon."@@ She shakes her head. @@.amber;"But then one day, I got it right. And I knew there was no going back."@@ You can't help but stare. @@.player;"So... you just changed?"@@ Amber's smirk returns, this time sharp and sure. @@.amber;"Nah, I became."@@ The words settle in your chest, heavy and undeniable. Milo, kicking his feet where he sits on the log, lets out a low whistle. @@.boy;"That's //so// cool."@@ Amber laughs. @@.amber;"Yeah, well. Took a while to get here. But the point is—magic isn't about forcing yourself into something new. It's about finding what was already there and letting it be."@@ Your thoughts spin, and you don't know what to say, what to think. <<elseif $d13askamber is 1>>\ You glance between them, picking up on the way Aurora's expression has been just a little tighter since Amber arrived. It's subtle—anyone who didn't know her might miss it—but there's a tension there. Not hostility, exactly. More like restraint. Amber, on the other hand, looks perfectly relaxed. It's like she's enjoying some kind of inside joke you're not in on yet. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say, tilting your head, @@.player;"what's your deal with Aurora? You two seem... interesting together."@@ Aurora exhales sharply. @@.aurora;"$name, don't."@@ Amber grins, completely ignoring her. @@.amber;"Ah. I see you're perceptive."@@ Milo, who has been mostly bouncing with excess energy this whole time, perks up at the question. @@.boy;"Ohhh, this is my favorite topic."@@ Aurora shoots him a warning glance. @@.aurora;"Milo—"@@ @@.amber;"No, no, let him talk,"@@ Amber interrupts. @@.amber;"I want to see how he explains it."@@ Milo claps his hands together like a kid about to reveal a huge secret. @@.boy;"Okay, so //technically//, they're not friends—"@@ Aurora crosses her arms. @@.aurora;"Because we're not."@@ @@.boy;"—but they totally are!"@@ Milo continues, completely undeterred. @@.boy;"Amber acts like she's too cool for everything, but she always shows up when Aurora needs something. And Aurora pretends she doesn't like her, but she never tells her to leave. And one time, I swear, swear, I caught them getting coffee together."@@ @@.aurora;"Milo. Stop talking."@@ Milo mimes zipping his lips, but he's beaming. You raise an eyebrow at Amber. @@.player;"So what's your version of this?"@@ Amber's grin widens. @@.amber;"Oh, I love that you asked."@@ She gestures toward Aurora, completely unbothered by the dagger-like glare she's receiving. @@.amber;"See, our dear, enigmatic Aurora has such a specific vibe. You know what I mean, all brooding stares, vague cryptic messages, appearing in the corner of dark rooms for dramatic effect."@@ Milo cackles. @@.boy;"Oh my God, she does!"@@ Amber does not stop. She's clearly on a roll now. @@.amber;"Like, let me guess,"@@ Amber continues, looking at you now. @@.amber;"When she first talked to you about magic, she probably said just enough to make it feel important but not quite enough for you to understand what the hell she meant, right?"@@ You blink, surprised by the accuracy. @@.player;"Yes!"@@ @@.amber;"Classic Aurora,"@@ Amber says, mock-sagely. @@.amber;"She could explain things, but no, no, that would be too simple. Instead, she says stuff like 'you must learn to see beyond the veil' or 'magic is not something to be taught, but something to be understood'."@@ She deepens her voice, lowering it into a dramatic whisper. @@.amber;"'The answers you seek lie within'."@@ Milo is wheezing at this point. @@.aurora;"I do not sound like that,"@@ Aurora mutters, unimpressed. @@.amber;"Aurora, you are that. You were born that."@@ Aurora visibly regrets inviting you here. Milo, still gasping, chimes in, @@.boy;"No, but for real, she does do that! Last week, I asked her if a spell was dangerous, and she just said 'all things have a cost' and walked away."@@ Aurora sighs. @@.aurora;"I don't have to justify myself to any of you."@@ Amber grins. @@.amber;"Of course not. Your mysterious ways need no explanation."@@ She leans toward you conspiratorially, as if she's telling you a secret. @@.amber;"Don't take it personally, by the way. This is just how she is. If you ever want a real answer, you have to corner her and demand it."@@ @@.boy;"Or just let her monologue until she thinks you figured it out!"@@ Milo adds. Aurora looks at the sky like she's praying for patience. @@.aurora;"$name, let's move onto another topic before I hex both of them."@@ Amber smiles, clearly pleased with herself. <<else>>\ You watch Amber for a moment, taking in the way she carries herself—relaxed, effortless, like nothing could shake her. It's not the fake kind of confidence, not the overcompensating kind. It's real. The kind that comes from someone who's fought their battles and came out victorious. And you wonder if she's always been like this. So you ask. @@.player;"Were you always this confident?"@@ Amber pauses for just a fraction of a second, and you know immediately that the answer is //no//. She tilts her head slightly, smirking. @@.amber;"What do you think?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Well, nobody comes out of the womb knowing exactly who they are."@@ That gets a quiet chuckle out of her. She leans against the tree again, crossing her arms, and for the first time since you met her, she doesn't answer right away. She's thinking. Not in a careful kind of way but like she's sifting through old memories, deciding which ones are worth bringing to the surface. Finally, she exhales, rolling her shoulders like she's shaking something off. @@.amber;"No,"@@ she admits. @@.amber;"I wasn't always like this."@@ She kicks the dirt lightly with the toe of her boot, gaze drifting slightly past you. It's like she's looking at something that isn't there anymore. @@.amber;"Took me a while to figure my shit out. And even longer to stop caring what people thought about it."@@ Her voice stays casual, but there's something under it. Milo flops onto a nearby log, chin in his hands. @@.boy;"You never talk about this, Amber."@@ Amber smirks. @@.amber;"I don't do personal, Milo. But $name's got those big, sad eyes, and I guess I'm feeling generous."@@ @@.player;"Wow."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ She chuckles but continues. @@.amber;"When I was younger, I spent a lot of time second-guessing myself. Watching how people reacted to me. I wondered if I was doing it right—if I was walking right, talking right, existing the way people expected me to. It was... exhausting, to say the least."@@ Amber lifts a hand and gestures vaguely. @@.amber;"Then I figured magic could change my body. That was huge, I won't lie. It helped a lot. But it didn't fix me because there was nothing to fix. Magic got my body in the right place, but confidence?"@@ She taps her temple. @@.amber;"That part was all on me."@@ She glances back at you, eyes sharp, making sure you're listening. @@.amber;"Look, $name. Nobody hands you confidence. You don't just wake up one day and have it. You have to choose it, over and over, until it sticks. Until it's just who you are."@@ You sit with that for a moment. It's not some grand, inspirational speech. It's just a fact. @@.amber;"So, yeah. I got here eventually. And now? I'm that bitch."@@ She flicks imaginary dust off her jacket. @@.amber;"But it was a long road, and I had to walk it myself."@@ You nod, thinking her words oer. Amber lets the silence settle, letting you process instead of filling the space. Then, after a moment, Milo blurts, @@.boy;"Okay, but, like, when did you become cool?"@@ @@.amber;"I was always cool, Milo,"@@ Amber says, barking out a laugh. @@.amber;"It just took everyone else a while to catch up."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 13 - 8">><</button>>

<<set $faceControl to false>>\ <<set $upperControl to false>>\ <<set $lowerControl to true>>\ <<set $genitalConfirm to false>>\ <<set $nextScene to "Day 13 - 9">>\ After some back-and-forth between Amber, Aurora, and Milo, Aurora straightens, fixing you with an assessing look. The humor from a moment ago fades, replaced by something more serious. @@.aurora;"We're done messing around,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"It's time to see how much control you really have."@@ Amber stretches her arms over her head, rolling her shoulders. @@.amber;"Yup, she's right. The show's over. Time for the real fun."@@ You frown. @@.player;"Control?"@@ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"You've already started adjusting to the spell. Your face and your upper body—you've felt the changes. You've guided them."@@ Your stomach tightens as you realize she's right. The shifts in your appearance haven't been random, not at all. They happened under your influence—your intent. Amber steps forward, tilting her head. @@.amber;"But right now, you're only working with half your body. Time to fix that."@@ You glance between them. @@.player;"So... you're saying I can change my lower body now?"@@ @@.amber;"It's more like we're letting you,"@@ Amber corrects. @@.amber;"We're just unlocking the next part."@@ Aurora watches you carefully. @@.aurora;"You've proven you can handle it. And if you ever want to break this spell completely—or master it—you need full control over it first."@@ Milo, who's been bouncing excitedly on the sidelines, finally speaks up. @@.boy;"This part is gonna be so cool. Just saying."@@ You exhale, shifting your feet. @@.player;"Alright, how does this work?"@@ Amber grins. @@.amber;"Oh, it's simple. We just tweak the magical framework a little, loosen the restrictions, and let you do your thing."@@ Aurora lifts a hand. @@.aurora;"You'll feel it the second it happens. The energy will open up inside you, like a door unlocking. And after that... it's up to you."@@ You swallow hard, your pulse picking up. You don't know why you're nervous, you really don't. You've already done this before, already felt the shift in your body, already experienced the way the magic wraps around you, waiting for direction. But somehow, this feels //bigger//. Amber snaps her fingers and Aurora mutters something under her breath. You feel it. A rush of energy floods through you, curling around your spine, seeping into your skin, your muscles, even your very bones. It's not painful, not jarring—just a shift, like something inside you has clicked into place. A door unlocks. Your breath catches. Amber smirks. @@.amber;"There it is."@@ Aurora lowers her hand. @@.aurora;"It's yours now. Use it."@@ You don't need to be told twice. You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the feeling. The energy hums inside you, waiting, responding to your thoughts, your intent. You can guide it. You can choose. <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>>

<<set $faceControl to true>>\ <<set $upperControl to true>>\ <<set $genitalConfirm to false>>\ You open your eyes, exhaling slowly. The transformation settled exactly how you wanted it to, exactly how you envisioned it. You guided the $referto. More than that. You //owned// it. @@.player;"So... that's it? I have full control now?"@@ you ask, glancing at Aurora. She shakes her head. @@.aurora;"Not full control. You're almost there."@@ Amber crosses her arms. @@.amber;"Yeah, you're real close. But you've still got two things left hanging—your height and your voice."@@ @@.player;"Why those two?"@@ you mutter, your stomach twisting slightly. Milo jumps in, still bouncing slightly. @@.boy;"Think about it! A person's height changes how they take up space, and how they interact with the world. And your voice? That's huge! People connect the voice to identity all the time."@@ @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, rolling your shoulders. Milo's explanation was a little flimsy considering you could grow breasts, but you suppose magic is like that sometimes. Your body is almost yours to control now anyway. Amber watches you carefully. @@.amber;"You'll get there, though. Sooner than you think."@@ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"For now, this is enough. You've already pushed your limits today."@@ Amber watches you with a knowing smirk. Aurora watches you as well with her usual quiet intensity. Milo, as par for the course, is buzzing from what just happened. Now that the transformation is done, now that you've taken another step toward controlling this, a question lingers in your mind. What now? <<button "Stick with Aurora and Milo" "Day 13 - Aurora">>\<<set $d13lastactivity to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D13_last_activity" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Follow Amber" "Day 13 - Amber">>\<<set $d13lastactivity to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D13_last_activity" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Go home" "Day 13 - 10">>\<<set $d13lastactivity to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D13_last_activity" 2 "story">><</button>>

<<if $d13amber is 0>>\ You glance at the creek, watching the way the light glints off the water's surface. Before you can even think about it, you're already moving. You push yourself up from the rock, stepping toward the bank where the stones are smooth and flat. Amber watches as you crouch and sift through them. @@.amber;"Oh?"@@ she says, amused. @@.amber;"You a stone-skipping kind of person?"@@ You roll a rock in your palm, feeling its weight. @@.player;"Guess we're about to find out."@@ She smirks and swings her legs off the rock, joining you by the creek. @@.amber;"Alright, let's see it, Prodigy."@@ You square your stance, grip the stone between your fingers, and flick your wrist. It sails out over the water—plunk—and sinks instantly. @@.amber;"Oof,"@@ Amber says, snorting. @@.amber;"That was tragic."@@ @@.player;"Shut up,"@@ you mutter, already reaching for another one. She crouches beside you, casually picking up a stone of her own. @@.amber;"You know, there's a technique to it."@@ @@.player;"I know that,"@@ you say, trying again. This time, the rock at least hops once before sinking. Amber smirks, weighing her own stone in her hand. @@.amber;"Milo could probably explain it better than me—he overanalyzes everything—but it's all in the angle. You wanna flick your wrist low, get it as parallel to the surface as possible."@@ She demonstrates, snapping her arm in a quick, fluid motion. The stone skips four times before finally sinking. @@.player;"Alright, that was pretty good,"@@ you admit. Amber grins. @@.amber;"Obviously."@@ You roll your eyes and try again. It takes a few more failed attempts, but eventually, you get the angle just right. The stone actually skips—not far, not impressive, but enough to feel like a win. Amber nods approvingly. @@.amber;"There it is."@@ You don't talk much—at least, not about anything important. Just little things. Complaints about school. The weird way time seems to pass faster when you don't want it to. Dumb jokes. It's the kind of conversation you don't have to think too hard about, and honestly? You needed that. At some point, Amber leans back on her hands and stretches. @@.amber;"Welp,"@@ she says, pushing herself up. @@.amber;"Hate to cut this short, $name, but I've got places to be."@@ <<elseif $d13amber is 1>>\ You glance around the clearing again, taking in the scenery. The air here feels different. Not magical, exactly—at least, not in the same way as the lessons with Aurora and Milo. But intentional. Like this place means something. You turn to Amber. @@.player;"Why here? Why bring me to this spot?"@@ Amber exhales slowly, stretching her arms above her head before letting them drop back onto the rock. @@.amber;"Because you needed it."@@ @@.player;"Needed what, exactly?"@@ you ask, frowning. @@.amber;"A minute. A breath. A chance to sit in your own skin for a second without anyone telling you what it means."@@ She tilts her head, watching you. @@.amber;"You just went through something big. I figured maybe you should have a moment to //be//."@@ You blink. It's... not the answer you expected. But as soon as she says it, you realize she's right. Since the moment you stepped into the woods, it's been constant. Learning. Training. Changing. Everyone has something to tell you, something for you to figure out. Your body has been shifting, your mind racing to catch up. You haven't had time to just... exist. Until now. Amber gives you a sideways glance. @@.amber;"We don't really do that enough, y'know? Just sit with things. Everyone's always rushing to define everything, put it in a box, make a plan. But sometimes, the best thing you can do is shut up and feel it."@@ You let her words settle. There's an easy confidence to her—not the kind that comes with knowing all the answers, but from being comfortable with not knowing. It's like she's figured out she doesn't need to have everything solved all the time. @@.player;"...You do this a lot?"@@ you ask. She shrugs. @@.amber;"Used to. More than I do now. You won't always have the time to sit by a creek and think about life. So you take it when you can."@@ You don't say anything to that, opting to just sit there and let the moment stretch. For the first time in days, you realize you're not thinking about what's coming next. Not thinking about your curse, your magic, or the changes happening to you. You're just here. Amber lets the silence linger before she finally pushes herself to her feet, brushing off her jeans. @@.amber;"Alright, Prodigy,"@@ she says. @@.amber;"As much as I'd love to keep imparting my infinite wisdom, I actually have places to be."@@ <<else>>\ You exhale slowly, letting the moment settle. The creek flows lazily below, the sun filters through the trees in soft golden streaks, and for once you're not thinking about magic, curses, or whatever the hell your life is turning into. You glance at Amber. @@.player;"So tell me—what's your stance on socks and sandals?"@@ Amber lets out a sharp laugh. @@.amber;"Oh, absolutely a crime against fashion. I don't care if it's comfortable—if you wear socks with sandals, you have actively chosen violence."@@ @@.player;"That's a strong opinion,"@@ you observe. @@.amber;"Well, yeah, because it's correct,"@@ Amber says, waving a hand. @@.amber;"You can't put socks on and then also wear open-toed shoes. Either commit to comfort or commit to the elements."@@ You nod sagely. @@.player;"So you're saying it's a sign of weakness."@@ @@.amber;"Exactly."@@ She gestures at you. @@.amber;"See, I knew you had good instincts."@@ You snort, leaning back on your hands. @@.player;"Alright, fine. Follow-up question—if you could have one completely useless superpower, what would it be?"@@ Amber hums, tapping her fingers against the rock. @@.amber;"That's a good one. Let's see... I'd want the ability to always perfectly throw something into a trash can, no matter what."@@ @@.player;"That is not useless,"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"That's genuinely impressive."@@ Amber shrugs. @@.amber;"It just sucks when you miss and have to do the awkward walk of shame to pick it up."@@ @@.player;"True,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"But imagine if you had to ability to instantly reheat food without making them soggy."@@ Amber's eyes widen slightly before she nods. @@.amber;"Okay. Now that is actually a world-changing ability."@@ @@.player;"Big microwave doesn't want us to know the truth,"@@ you say, completely serious. Amber laughs, actually laughs, and it's this low, warm sound that makes the whole conversation feel surreal. Here you are, after everything that's happened, sitting by a creek talking about absolutely nothing. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you're just existing. No magic, no weight of the world, no expectations. You let out a slow breath, the tension in your body finally unknotting. @@.amber;"Feels good, doesn't it?"@@ Amber asks, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.amber;"Not thinking about shit,"@@ she says simply. @@.amber;"It's nice to just talk."@@ You hesitate, then nod. @@.player;"...Yeah. It does."@@ Amber stretches with a satisfied sigh. @@.amber;"Welp, I hate to ruin the vibe, but I got places to be."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Oh yeah?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"Got another forest to hang out in?"@@ She chuckles. @@.amber;"Something like that."@@ Then, after a pause, she tilts her head slightly. @@.amber;"You're good, by the way."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ You blink. @@.amber;"All of this?"@@ she says, gesturing at you. @@.amber;"You're handling it. You're gonna be just fine, $name."@@ You don't know why those words settle in your chest the way they do, but before you can think too hard about it, Amber gives you a lazy salute and starts walking away. She disappears into the trees like she was never there at all. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself take a breath. <<button "Go home" "Day 13 - 10">><</button>>

You glance at Aurora and Milo, then back at Amber. Something about her—the way she talks, the way she sees things—pulls at you. She's not like Aurora, who operates in riddles, or Milo, who wears his excitement on his sleeve. Amber is... something else. @@.player;"Do you mind if I go with you, Amber?"@@ you request. Amber's smirk deepens. @@.amber;"Good choice, Prodigy."@@ She turns on her heel, already walking. @@.amber;"Come on. I know a spot."@@ Amber doesn't wait for a response—she just starts walking, expecting you to follow. And you do. She leads you through the woods with easy confidence, ducking under low-hanging branches and stepping over gnarled roots without breaking her stride. She's clearly been here before, moving like she knows every inch of the forest. You glance back once, catching a glimpse of Aurora and Milo still standing in the clearing. Aurora watches you go with her usual unreadable expression, while Milo waves enthusiastically as if you're heading off on some kind of grand adventure. The trees thin out as you keep walking, the dense canopy giving way to more open space. The air is different here—calmer and quieter like the world itself has exhaled. Then, suddenly, the forest breaks into a hidden overlook. It's ''beautiful''. A rocky outcrop juts out over a slow-moving creek, sunlight catching on the water's surface in scattered golden ripples. The bank is lined with smooth, flat stones, some big enough to even sit on. Tall grass and wildflowers grow along the edges, their colors vibrant. The whole place feels untouched, like something out of a dream. Amber walks up to the largest rock near the edge and drops down onto it, leaning back on her hands. @@.amber;"This is it."@@ You take a few steps forward, taking it all in. It's peaceful in a way you didn't know you needed until now. @@.player;"This is your spot?"@@ you ask. Amber nods. @@.amber;"One of them."@@ She tilts her head back, eyes half-lidded. @@.amber;"Sometimes you need somewhere quiet, y'know?"@@ You //do// know. You sit down next to her, stretching your legs out in front of you. Unlike Aurora, who always seems like she's waiting for you to ask the right questions, Amber is just here, existing in the same space without forcing anything. After a moment, she cracks an eye open and looks at you. @@.amber;"So,"@@ she says, voice easy, @@.amber;"what now? What do you wanna do with this little detour?"@@ <<button "Skip stones on the creek" "Day 13 - Amber 1">>\<<set $d13amber to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask Amber why she brought you here" "Day 13 - Amber 1">>\<<set $d13amber to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Talk about something completely unrelated" "Day 13 - Amber 1">>\<<set $d13amber to 2>>\<</button>>

<<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d13aurora is true>>\ @@.player;"I don't want anything,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Just wanted to talk."@@ Aurora raises an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"You just wanted to talk?"@@ @@.player;"Is that a problem?"@@ you ask. She exhales sharply like she's debating whether or not to entertain this. Then, without another word, she turns and starts walking. You don't ask where she's going. You just follow. The two of you walk side by side through the quiet streets, the distant hum of town barely reaching your ears. Every now and then, Aurora glances at you like she's expecting you to say something, but when you don't, she just keeps moving. After a while, she finally speaks. @@.aurora;"So?"@@ @@.player;"So what?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.aurora;"You said you wanted to talk,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"So talk."@@ @@.player;"I feel like every time I ask you something, I get half an answer."@@ Aurora tilts her head slightly, considering what you said. @@.aurora;"That's because most people ask bad questions."@@ You huff a quiet laugh. @@.player;"And what makes a good question?"@@ She shrugs. @@.aurora;"One that actually gets you what you want."@@ @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Here's one—why are you helping me?"@@ @@.aurora;"Because you're interesting."@@ You wait for more, but that's all she gives you. @@.player;"What did I say? Half an answer."@@ @@.aurora;"Fine,"@@ Aurora mutters, clearly unimpressed. @@.aurora;"You've got talent. You've got potential. That's rare. I want to see where it goes."@@ @@.player;"So what happens after this?"@@ you ask, shoving your hands in your pockets. @@.player;"I keep learning magic until what? I just fix my curse and move on?"@@ Aurora shakes her head. @@.aurora;"I think you already know this isn't just about your curse anymore."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I don't want anything,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Just wanted to make sure you got home safe."@@ Aurora raises an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"Seriously?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, why?"@@ you ask, shrugging. @@.player;"You followed Milo to make sure he got home safe. Someone's gotta do the same for you."@@ Aurora exhales, unimpressed. @@.aurora;"I don't need anyone watching over me."@@ @@.player;"Neither does Milo, apparently,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.player;"And yet, here we are."@@ She shakes her head but doesn't argue. Instead, she turns and starts walking. Without really thinking, you follow. The two of you walk in silence for a while, and after a few minutes, Aurora glances at you. @@.aurora;"You're still here."@@ @@.player;"You're still walking,"@@ you point out. She huffs a quiet breath, somewhere between amusement and exasperation. @@.aurora;"You're following me with no idea where I'm going."@@ @@.player;"Seems to be working out so far."@@ She doesn't respond, but she doesn't stop you either. <</if>>\ The two of you keep walking. You're barely paying attention to where you're going, just following Aurora's pace and letting conversation fill the space between steps. You ask her little things—about magic, about Milo, about why she never just says things outright—and she responds in the same way she always does. Half-answers, vague truths, but never lies. It's only when she stops in her tracks that you realize where you are. Your house. You blink, looking up at it, then back at Aurora. @@.player;"Did you—?"@@ @@.aurora;"You were following me,"@@ she says simply. You stare at her. @@.player;"You were leading."@@ @@.aurora;"Yet here we are."@@ @@.player;"That was //so// unnecessary,"@@ you sigh, shaking your head. @@.aurora;"Maybe,"@@ she says, already turning to leave. You watch her walk away, disappearing down the street, her presence fading like she was never here at all. <<button "Go home" "Day 13 - 10">><</button>>

<<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at Aurora and Milo, then back at Amber. Something about the way she carries herself—always composed, always watching, always a step ahead—makes you feel like there's still more to learn from her. More than she knows but hasn't said yet. @@.player;"I'll stick with you, Aurora,"@@ you say. Aurora raises an eyebrow, but there's no surprise in her expression. Just a quiet assessment, like she was already expecting this answer. @@.aurora;"Suit yourself."@@ Then, without another word, she turns toward Milo. @@.aurora;"You should head home."@@ Milo blinks. @@.boy;"What? Now?"@@ She raises an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"Unless you'd rather stay out here and collapse?"@@ Milo crosses his arms and pouts. @@.boy;"I can totally keep going."@@ Aurora doesn't argue, just giving him a long, knowing look. @@.boy;"Fiiiine,"@@ Milo says, sighing dramatically. @@.boy;"But only because I //technically// promised my mom I wouldn't die in the woods. I'll see you two later."@@ She nods. @@.aurora;"Yeah."@@ Milo hesitates, shifting on his feet. He wants to say more. It's obvious in the way he lingers, the way his usual boundless energy is just slightly dimmed. But he ultimately just gives her a quick wave. @@.boy;"Don't get lost in your mystical brooding or whatever."@@ Aurora rolls her eyes. @@.aurora;"Go home, Milo."@@ He grins and takes off, jogging toward the tree line. You watch him go, but when you glance at Aurora, she's already moving. Not away from the woods, but following him. She doesn't say anything, opting to just walk at a steady pace. She keeps her distance but never loses sight of him. You fall into step beside her. @@.player;"You could just admit you care about him."@@ @@.aurora;"I could,"@@ she says flatly. @@.aurora;"But I won't."@@ @@.player;"He really looks up to you, you know."@@ @@.aurora;"I know."@@ For a while, the two of you walk in silence. The woods thin out as you approach the edge of town, where Milo's house isn't far off. Eventually, he reaches his street and disappears behind a row of houses. Aurora stops, watching the space where he vanished. She liners for a second—just one—before turning sharply on her heel. @@.aurora;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You're still here. What do you want?"@@ <<button "I just wanted to talk" "Day 13 - Aurora 1">>\<<set $d13aurora to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Just wanted to make sure you got home safe" "Day 13 - Aurora 1">>\<<set $d13aurora to false>>\<</button>>

\ <<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-second-masturbation"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/bg/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $d13eyes, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $d13eyes, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/mouth/mouth0.png", "condition": $d13mouth, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png", "condition": $d13mouth, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/additional/eyebrow.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/larm/larm0.png", "condition": $d13larm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/larm/larm1.png", "condition": $d13larm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/larm/larm2.png", "condition": $d13larm, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/chest/chest0.png", "condition": $d13chest, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d13chest, "requirement": 3 }, ]>>\ \ <<if $d13phase is 3>>\ <div class="cgorgasm">\ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ <img src="img/additional/white.png" class="fadeout"> </div>\ <<else>>\ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $d13phase is 0>>\ <<set $d13phase to 1>>\ You're on all fours now, your body tense with anticipation. The mattress beneath you is soft and yielding, supporting your weight as you shift slightly. Your back arches gently, your hips tilted up, exposing your most intimate area to the cool air of your bedroom. Your left arm is stretched behind you, your elbow bent at an angle, hovering just above your ass. Your hand is positioned carefully, palm facing inwards. Two of your fingers, slick with lotion, are poised mere inches from your tight, virgin hole. You shiver involuntarily. Your breathing is ragged, each inhale and exhale punctuated by the sound of your own arousal. Your breath hitches as you hold your fingers there, just close enough to feel the heat emanating from your body. The anticipation is palpable, an electric energy that courses through your veins. It makes every nerve ending in your body tingle. You're hyperaware of every sensation, every slight movement, every sound in the room. It's time. <<button "Stick them in" "Day 13 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $d13blush to 1>>\<<set $d13larm to 2>>\<</button>> <<elseif $d13phase is 1>>\ <<set $d13phase to 2>>\ You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, before finally pressing your lubricated fingers against your anus. There's a brief moment of resistance before you feel yourself give way, allowing the tip of your finger to slide in. You can't help the small gasp that escapes your lips as you feel the foreign sensation of penetration. It's strange and new, yet not entirely unpleasant. You take a second to adjust, to get used to the feeling, before slowly moving your fingers in deeper. You feel the muscles around your fingers clench and relax, accepting the intrusion. You delve further inside, recalling what you heard about the ''prostate'', the bundle of nerves that promises intense pleasure. You angle your fingers and probe carefully, searching for the right spot. It takes a few moments, but then you feel it—a small, firm bump about two inches in. As soon as you make contact, a jolt of pleasure shoots through your body. You gasp again, louder this time. Your entire body tenses and your breath catches in your throat as waves of ecstasy wash over you. Your eyes roll back, your toes curl, and your body shudders as you press against the gland again, harder this time. The pleasure is intense and overwhelming, and you can't help but let out a moan. <<button "Continue" "Day 13 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $d13blush to 2>>\<<set $d13mouth to false>>\<</button>> <<elseif $d13phase is 2>>\ <<set $d13phase to 3>>\ You lose yourself in the sensation, your fingers working furiously against your prostate. Your movements become erratic and desperate as each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. The initial discomfort is long gone, replaced by a white-hot pleasure that consumes your every thought, your every movement. The pleasure coils in your belly, growing tighter and hotter with each passing second. You're so close you can practically taste it, and you know that it's going to be intense. You lean forward, bracing yourself against the bed, your hips bucking back involuntarily as you push deeper and harder. Your vision starts to blur, the pleasure almost too much to bear—a sweet agony that threatens to consume your entire body. You can feel the orgasm building, the pressure mounting, your body straining towards release. Your moans become louder and more urgent, filling the quiet room. <<button "FuckFuckFuck" "Day 13 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $d13blush to 2>>\<<set $d13eyes to false>>\<</button>> <<elseif $d13phase is 3>>\ When you finally approach the edge you tremble and begin to feel it coming. The orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train, a force so powerful and intense that it leaves you breathless. Your body convulses, your muscles clenching and unclenching as waves of pleasure wash over you. You have to bite your lip to make sure you don't moan too loudly, but a few escape as your body is wracked with ecstasy. Your fingers, still buried deep inside you, are coated in your own slickness, the walls of your rectum pulsing around them. You can feel your prostate throbbing, still sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your penis, hard and throbbing, releases its load. Your hot, sticky cum spurts onto the sheets beneath you. You close your eyes as the orgasm consumes you. It's like nothing you've ever experienced before, a full-body sensation that leaves you shaking and gasping for breath. You can feel it in every fiber of your being. You ride the waves of your orgasm until you're left trembling, spent, and utterly satisfied. You collapse onto the bed, your chest heaving, your heart pounding. You've never felt anything like this before, and you know you'll be craving it again soon. <<button "Finish" "Day 13 - Masturbation 2">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $secondMasturbationCG to true>>\ After the intense orgasm subsides, you lie sprawled on the bed, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, and your heart races wildly in your chest. The room around you seems hazy like you're dreaming. Slowly, you regain control of your limbs, pulling your fingers free from your sensitive hole with a soft pop. You can feel the emptiness, the lingering warmth, and the sticky remnants of your arousal on your skin. With a sigh, you push yourself up, taking in the sight before you. Your cum is splattered across your bed, evidence of your pleasure. You reach for a nearby towel, using it to gently wipe away the mess, trying not to smear it further. Once the bed is clean enough, you turn your attention to your body. Your movements are sluggish, your arms and legs heavy with satisfaction. You can't help but smile as you wipe away the last traces of cum from your tummy. You've discovered a new side of yourself, and it's one that you're eager to explore further. As you slide off the bed and pad towards the bathroom, you glance at the mirror. You feel alive in a way you've never felt before. In the shower, you take your time cleaning your ass, the water cascading down your back as you tenderly wash away the last vestiges of your little adventure. When you're done, you step out of the shower and slip into your pajamas, ready to head to bed. <<button "Time for bed" "Day 13 - 11">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $nude to 2>>\ You take a deep breath, your decision made. You're going to explore this new sensation, this hidden world of pleasure. You shift your position, getting on all fours. Your knees press into the mattress as you arch your back. Your body feels alive, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. You take a moment to appreciate your own form—the curve of your hips and the softness of your skin. Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for the lotion, the cool plastic bottle a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. You flip open the cap, the faint scent of lavender filling the air, and pour a generous amount onto your fingers. The lotion is silky smooth, and you rub your fingers together, warming it. You pause, taking a deep breath. Anticipation builds within you, and you're on the precipice, ready to explore a new realm of pleasure. Your body is ready, your mind is willing, and the night is full of promise. <<set $d13eyes to true>>\ <<set $d13mouth to true>>\ <<set $d13hair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $d13chest to $breastsProg>>\ <<set $d13larm to 0>>\ <<set $d13phase to 0>>\ \ <<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-second-masturbation"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/bg/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $d13eyes, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $d13eyes, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/mouth/mouth0.png", "condition": $d13mouth, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png", "condition": $d13mouth, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/additional/eyebrow.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $d13hair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/larm/larm0.png", "condition": $d13larm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/larm/larm1.png", "condition": $d13larm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/larm/larm2.png", "condition": $d13larm, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/chest/chest0.png", "condition": $d13chest, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/secondMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d13chest, "requirement": 3 }, ]>>\ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ \ <<button "Begin" "Day 13 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $d13larm to 1>>\<</button>>

<<set $mmana to Math.clamp($mmana + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d13lesson3choice0 is 0>>\ The magic hums around you, weightless yet real, like a thousand threads waiting to be woven into something tangible. It swirls at your fingertips, responding to your every thought, eager to be shaped. You glance at Aurora and Milo. Aurora is watching with an unreadable expression, her sharp eyes locked onto you like she's studying you. Milo, on the other hand, looks like he's barely holding himself together. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you murmur, more to yourself than to them. @@.player;"Let's try something else."@@ You raise your hand, focusing on the energy lingering in the air. Right now, it's wild—formless. But what if you could guide and shape it? You take a breath, steady yourself, and then pull. The shift is immediate. The swirling light responds, stretching, twisting, and coiling around your fingers like liquid silk. You move your hand, and it follows, flickering between shapes, trying to settle, waiting for you to decide. Your heartbeat picks up. It's not resisting, but rather waiting. You press forward, trying to push the energy into something solid. Something real. A shape begins to form—still flickering, still unstable, but almost there. Aurora tilts her head slightly. @@.aurora;"Fascinating."@@ Milo claps a hand over his mouth. @@.boy;"Oh my God, oh my God—"@@ You barely hear them, too focused on what's happening in your hands. This is it. You can make something. <<button "Shape the energy into fire" "Day 13 - Mana Control 2">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Shape the energy into light" "Day 13 - Mana Control 2">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Shape the energy into something solid" "Day 13 - Mana Control 2">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice1 to 2>>\<</button>> <<elseif $d13lesson3choice0 is 1>>\ The magic hums beneath your skin, coiled and waiting. You take a deep breath and focus, your fingers twitching slightly as the energy hums around you. The sensation is electric and warm, and you can tell it's waiting. If you can feel it this strongly, then maybe... maybe you can move it. You raise your hand, fingers slightly spread. The energy stirs, responding to your intention before you even know what you're doing. The warmth in your chest spreads down your arm, swirling in your palm like liquid light. Aurora stays silent, and even Milo is uncharacteristically still. You exhale—and push. The response is instant. The energy flows, rushing outward like a current released from a dam. It doesn't resist or fight—it moves, as naturally as exhaling. The leaves on the ground rustle, small twigs lifting slightly before settling back down. The air around your hand shimmers faintly, a ripple in reality itself. Milo lets out a laugh out of disbelief. @@.boy;"Okay, that's not fair."@@ Aurora's gaze sharpens. @@.aurora;"You didn't even hesitate."@@ You flex your fingers, watching as the lingering strands of magic energy dissipate into the air. @@.player;"It just felt... natural."@@ @@.boy;"I mean, yeah, 'cause that makes sense, right?"@@ Milo throws his hands up. @@.boy;"We just dropped a brand new practitioner into a lesson, and instead of flailing around like everyone does, they immediately bend reality like it's nothing. Yeah, that's no big deal."@@ @@.player;"You sound upset,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"Well, I //am// upset!"@@ he says dramatically. @@.boy;"I had to practice for weeks before I could even see mana! You just woke up and decided to be some kind of wizard."@@ Aurora, however, is watching you carefully. @@.aurora;"Do it again."@@ You glance at your hands, feeling the magic still waiting inside you, knowing it'll respond once you call on it. The question is—how do you want to test it? <<button "Focus on precision" "Day 13 - Mana Control 2">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Focus on force" "Day 13 - Mana Control 2">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Focus on interaction" "Day 13 - Mana Control 2">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice1 to 2>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ The magic hums around you, crackling in the air, weightless yet undeniably real. But it's not enough to just let it flow. Not for you. You want to control it. Slowly, you take a breath and focus—not on pushing the energy outward, not on shaping it into something external, but on pulling it back. At first, nothing happens. The energy simply lingers, shifting and flickering in the air like mist under moonlight. It doesn't resist you, but it doesn't obey either. It's simply existing. You frown, narrowing your focus. The magic wants to move—it responded so easily before—so why not now? Then you realize you're thinking about it wrong. You're thinking like it's something separate, like something you have to take back. But it's not separate and it never has been. It's yours. It never left you—it's just waiting for direction. You breathe in, and this time, the magic moves. The air around you shifts as the light flickering at your fingertips pulls inward, sliding across your skin in rippling waves. A warm rush spreads through you, filling every inch of you like electricity. You hear Milo whisper, @@.boy;"Woah."@@ The sensation is overwhelming, but not in a bad way. It's just right. Like your body is recognizing something it always should have known. The magic doesn't vanish but rather settles. Aurora's voice cuts through the moment, calm but measured. @@.aurora;"You're absorbing it."@@ You exhale, rolling your shoulders as the last of the energy sinks in. It doesn't hurt or strain. If anything, you feel more awake, more aware. You look down at your hands, no more glowing wisps of light. No visible traces of magic were left in the air. But you can feel it now—like something just beneath your skin, thrumming in your pulse. Aurora watches you closely, expression unreadable. @@.aurora;"How do you feel?"@@ You flex your fingers. @@.player;"Different."@@ She nods. @@.aurora;"Good."@@ Milo still looks somewhere between awed and mildly horrified. @@.boy;"I can't decide if this is the coolest thing I've ever seen or the most terrifying."@@ Magic hums beneath your skin, waiting for your next move. <<button "Try absorbing more energy from the environment" "Day 13 - Mana Control 2">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Try controlling where the magic settles" "Day 13 - Mana Control 2">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Try releasing the magic in a controlled way" "Day 13 - Mana Control 2">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice1 to 2>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $mmana to Math.clamp($mmana + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d13lesson3choice0 is 0>>\ <<if $d13lesson3choice1 is 0>>\ You exhale slowly, fingers curling as you focus on the swirling energy around you. It moves, shifting and flickering, waiting for direction. You don't overthink it. You don't hesitate. Instead, you let instinct take over. ''Burn.'' The response is instant. The air around your fingertips ignites, and suddenly, there's fire—real fucking fire—dancing in your palm. It cackles softly, bright orange and gold jumping at you, flickering like it's testing its own existence. The heat kisses your skin, but it doesn't burn or hurt. It's yours, as natural as breathing. Milo lets out a strangled noise. @@.boy;"$name, you did not just make fire on your first try—oh my God."@@ Aurora's gaze sharpens. @@.aurora;"That's advanced magic."@@ You barely hear them, too caught up in the feeling, in the way the flames listen to you. You turn your head slightly, and the fire follows, curling around your fingers in twisting ribbons before settling again. You know this should be difficult and that magic isn't supposed to come this easily. But the fire responds to you without effort, as if it was waiting all along. Aurora steps forward, watching carefully. @@.aurora;"Put it out."@@ You don't question her. You take a slow breath and relax your hand. The fire obeys and flickers once before vanishing completely, the heat fading as if it was never there at all. Aurora's expression doesn't change, but something shifts in her posture. She's taking you a lot more seriously now. Milo just stares at your empty hand, still processing what just happened. Then, he grabs your shoulders and shakes you. @@.boy;"YOU JUST—"@@ He gestures wildly. @@.boy;"THAT WAS—DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID?!"@@ You do. And something tells you this is only the beginning. <<elseif $d13lesson3choice1 is 1>>\ You focus, steadying the energy in your palm. Fire feels too volatile, too wild. Something solid seems impossible though—at least for now. But light? Light is constant. Light is everywhere. It's something you know. The energy hums, flickering like a flame caught in the wind. You close your fingers slightly, guiding it and willing it to stabilize. At first, it resists, shifting between brightness and shadow, unable to decide what it wants to be. You push forward anyway, narrowing your focus, letting instinct take over. You don't force it but rather guide it. The moment you stop trying so hard and just let it happen, the glow steadies. A soft, golden light flares to life, hovering just above your palm. It's small at first. But as you breathe, it grows stronger and brighter, pulsing in time with your heartbeat. The clearing is still, bathed in the quiet glow of something that should be impossible. The light feels warm like sunlight filtering through the tree branches on a summer day. It doesn't even flicker anymore. It's just yours. Milo lets out an actual squeak, grabbing Aurora's sleeve and shaking it. @@.boy;"Are you seeing this? He just did that."@@ Aurora doesn't respond right away, instead studying the light. When she finally speaks, her voice is quieter than before. @@.aurora;"That wasn't supposed to be that easy."@@ You don't know what to say to that. You just stare at the glow in your hand, watching the way it bends and shifts with your smallest movements, completely under your control. You realize that this isn't just magic. This is yours. <<else>>\ You focus, pushing the magic further, tightening its form, willing it into something solid. The swirling light resists at first, flickering unsteadily, shifting unsteadily and shifting between shapes. It's like it can't quite decide what to be. But you don't let it slip away. You hold it, forcing it to take shape. The energy in your hands condenses, the glow solidifying. ''Weight.'' Your breath catches. You can feel it now, something pressing against your palm, something real. It's smooth and cool to the touch, but faintly pulsing with energy. You don't know what you were expecting—some kind of vague mass, maybe—but when you finally look down at what you've made, your stomach flips. It's a stone. Small, polished, dark as obsidian but threaded with veins of shimmering blue light. It hums with a quiet power as if tethered to the raw energy you pulled it from. You tighten your grip, half-expecting it to vanish the second you stop thinking about it. But it stays. Milo makes an excited noise. @@.boy;"Are you kidding me?! First try and you make a thing?! An actual thing?!"@@ He rushes forward, nearly tripping over himself as he stares at the stone. @@.boy;"That's insane!"@@ Aurora steps closer, her expression unreadable but sharp, like she's analyzing every detail of what just happened. She lifts a hand, slowly, carefully. @@.aurora;"May I?"@@ You hesitate, fingers tightening around the stone instinctively. Some part of you, for whatever reason, doesn't want to let go of it just yet. It's yours. You made it. Aurora notices your hesitation and doesn't push. Instead, she simply nods, her eyes flicking back to the stone. @@.aurora;"Do you feel that?"@@ she asks quietly. You swallow, suddenly aware of the way it pulses in your hand, the way it feels less like an object and more like a piece of something bigger. Like it's still connected to you. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"I feel it."@@ <</if>>\ <<elseif $d13lesson3choice0 is 1>>\ <<if $d13lesson3choice1 is 0>>\ You close your eyes for a brief second, steadying yourself. The energy is still there, waiting. Not impatient or chaotic—just present. You know, instinctively, that you can guide it. But power without control is useless. So this time, you focus. Instead of letting the magic just rush outward freely, you try to shape it and guide it with intention. Your eyes land on a single leaf resting on the forest floor, untouched among the scattered debris. That's your target. You exhale slowly, stretching your fingers out. The warmth surges in response, running down your arm to your palm, ready to be released. But instead of pushing it all at once, you only let a thread of it escape. A faint, nearly invisible shimmer stirs in the air, a ripple that moves with you as you carefully direct it. The leaf trembles, just slightly. You concentrate harder, dialing back the flow of energy and adjusting the way it moves. The leaf lifts. It barely hovers above the ground, only an inch at first, then two. The movement is nothing like the burst of energy from before. Smooth, controlled, and delicate. The magic isn't acting wildly; it's listening to you, responding exactly the way you want it to. Milo lets out a quiet gasp, doing his best to not break your focus. Even Aurora watches with a hint of something else—something bordering on impressed. You decide to test the movement further, shifting your fingers ever so slightly. The leaf tilts, turning in midair, rotating smoothly like it's caught in an unseen breeze. It doesn't falter or stutter. After all, you know how to do this. You let the energy slowly withdraw, guiding the leaf back down until it rests gently on the ground once more. The moment it touches the ground, the magic disperses, fading like mist under the morning sun. @@.boy;"Holy crap,"@@ Milo breathes. @@.boy;"That was—what—how—what?!"@@ Aurora doesn't say anything at first, just watching you like she's reassessing everything she thought she knew. Then, after a moment, she speaks. @@.aurora;"$name, you don't just have magic,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You understand it."@@ You flex your fingers absentmindedly, still feeling the lingering warmth of the energy that had passed through them. You should be shocked, but you're really not. Because deep down, this doesn't feel like something new. It feels like something you were meant to do. <<elseif $d13lesson3choice1 is 1>>\ If the magic inside you moves this easily, then what happens if you push harder? You steady yourself, planting your feet firmly on the forest floor. The magic hums beneath your skin, alive and waiting. You can already feel how effortlessly it flows, how it bends to your will. If you have this much control already, then it's time to see what happens when you //really// push it. You scan the clearing, searching for something more solid—something that won't just twitch under your influence but move. Your eyes eventually land on a thick, moss-covered log a few feet away. It's heavy and unmoving, the perfect test. You extend your hand toward it, fingers splayed, and take a deep breath. The magic stirs instantly, curling in your chest before rushing down your arm. It's warm but not uncomfortable, electric but not overwhelming. It wants to move, to follow, to be used. You grip onto that feeling, shaping it into something sharp and deliberate. Then, with one final breath, you release it. The effect is instant. The air around you tenses, like a silent pulse has just torn through it. A powerful force surges outward from your palm. The moss-covered log doesn't just shift—it lurches, skidding across the dirt. The impact sends leaves flying, a cloud of dust kicking up around it. The movement is effortless as if the weight of the log didn't even matter. Milo lets out a strangled, @@.boy;"WHAT—"@@ Aurora doesn't move, but her eyes narrow. The magic fades from your fingertips and you take some deep breaths. Milo stumbles forward. @@.boy;"Dude,"@@ he breathes. @@.boy;"You—That—You just—"@@ He gestured wildly toward the log which is now sitting several feet from where it started. @@.boy;"That's what you consider a first attempt?"@@ You flex your fingers, your pulse still steady. @@.player;"I thought it'd be harder, to be honest."@@ Milo makes a wounded noise. @@.boy;"It's supposed to be!"@@ Aurora, on the other hand, stays quiet. She steps toward the log, crouching slightly, running her fingers over the dirt where it scraped across the ground. Finally, she stands, turning to you with an unreadable expression. @@.aurora;"$name, you didn't just push it,"@@ she says carefully. @@.aurora;"You drove it. Like you weren't even considering the weight, the resistance. Like it was never a factor. That's rare."@@ You glance at the log again. The energy still lingers inside you, strong and steady. And the truth is, you just don't know how to feel. <<else>>\ You flex your fingers, feeling the hum of energy that's just waiting for direction. Sending magic outward was easy. But now, instead of pushing it, you want to try something else. Something deeper. You close your eyes for a moment, focusing not on force but on connection. If magic is like breathing, like moving a part of yourself, then maybe it's not just about sending it away. Maybe you can hold onto it. Shape it. Let it linger. You exhale, and the warmth in your chest stirs. This time, when you push the magic outward, you don't release it all at once—you let it unfurl like an invisible thread stretching from your fingertips into the space around you. It glows faintly, barely visible in the air, swirling like mist caught in a slow-moving current. You reach out—not physically, but with the part of yourself that feels this energy—and try to grasp it. The moment you do, the magic moves. Not away from you, not dissolving into the air, but staying. It hovers between your hands like something half-formed, waiting for definition. You adjust your focus and the energy shifts with you, curling at the edges. It curls at the edges like ink spreading in water, refusing to settle into a shape just yet. But it doesn't fade. it doesn't scatter. It's yours. Milo makes a choked sound beside you. @@.boy;"Okay, no, see, this is ridiculous."@@ You open your eyes, watching as the glowing strands drift lazily in the space between your hands. When you tilt your fingers, the light follows, twisting into spirals before settling again. @@.boy;"$name, do you know how hard that is?!"@@ Milo asks, waving frantically at the display. @@.boy;"Holding magic in place like that—it's not normal! It's supposed to be like holding water in your hands!"@@ You look back at the glowing strands of music, shifting slightly as you concentrate. You can feel it wanting to return to its natural state, but as long as you want it to stay, it does. Aurora exhales through her nose. @@.aurora;"Well,"@@ she murmurs. @@.aurora;"That confirms it."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"Confirms what?"@@ Aurora meets your gaze, her eyes sharp. @@.aurora;"You're not just talented,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You're something else entirely."@@ The magic wavers slightly in your hands as her words sink in. You don't know what that means, but you're going to find out. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d13lesson3choice1 is 0>>\ The magic inside you still hums. It's not restless or fading—it's just here, waiting. You close your eyes and shift your focus outward. The magic you gathered before was yours, something you had called on without thinking, but what about what already exists around you? That means it should be everywhere, shouldn't it? Slowly, you reach. At first, you don't feel much. The clearing is quiet, the air remaining cool against your skin. But as you push your awareness beyond your own body, something flickers at the edge of your senses. The trees, ground, and even the air itself are ''alive''. Not in a conscious way, but there's something there, something deeper than what your eyes can see. Energy laced through the dirt, the leaves, the dirt beneath your feet. It moves lazily, like the natural ebb and flow of the earth breathing. It's not being used or directed—it's just existing. You inhale, pulling gently, and the response is immediate. A rush floods through you, but it's colder than before. It's tinged with something raw, something untouched. It's slower than pulling in your own magic, but it works. You can feel the energy shifting, unraveling from where it was settled, drawn toward you. It seeps into your skin, curling into your veins, heavier than what you'd gathered before but still right. Still yours the moment you take it in. @@.boy;"Are you serious right now?"@@ Milo asks, making a strangled noise. You open your eyes, and he's staring at you in disbelief. Even Aurora looks... interested. @@.boy;"That shouldn't be possible,"@@ Milo continues, waving his hands wildly. @@.boy;"Like, yeah, sure, technically anyone can theoretically pull from natural sources, but it's supposed to be hard as all hell! You can't just grab it!"@@ Aurora ignores him. @@.aurora;"Describe what you felt,"@@ she demands, eyes locked onto you. @@.player;"It was just there,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"Like it was waiting. It wasn't being used, so I just... called it."@@ Milo lets out a high-pitched laugh. @@.boy;"Oh, sure, that makes sense! Just called it! Just took wild, raw magic straight from the environment with zero effort, like a normal person does!"@@ You barely hear them, still adjusting to the energy swirling inside you. The magic from the environment settles differently than your own—it's heavier, slower to fade. You don't even feel drained, if anything, you feel more aware. Magic seems to come easy to you. Maybe too easy. <<elseif $d13lesson3choice1 is 1>>\ You can feel the magic still there; in your fingertips, in the steady rhythm of your pulse, and in the space between each breath. It isn't chaotic, but it isn't structured either—it's waiting, for direction and purpose. You close your eyes and focus, not on pulling more in, not on expelling it outward, but on guiding it. Right now, it's everywhere, spread thin across your entire body. But what if you could concentrate it? Shift it from one place to another, focus it onto something more deliberate? You carefully try pulling it toward your hands. It doesn't move at first, lingering in place. You try again, and this time, the sensation shifts—the magic pulls toward your palms in a gradual current, pooling just beneath the skin. It tingles slightly, but it doesn't hurt at all. If anything, it feels right. The moment you recognize that feeling, the magic moves faster, like it's responding to your understanding. You shift your focus again, encouraged, pulling it away from your hands and into your legs. The warmth follows without resistance, settling into the muscles, making you feel lighter. Then, you redirect it once more, letting it spread through your chest. It settles deep in your core like a waiting fire. You open your eyes, heart steady, mind aware. You feel stronger, like there's an entire layer of potential inside you that wasn't there before. Milo is staring at you. @@.boy;"$name, you did it."@@ Aurora, standing slightly apart, doesn't look surprised. She just watches you with that same unreadable gaze, like she's already seen where this is going. You flex your fingers. This is control, and that changes everything. <<else>>\ The energy thrums beneath your skin, not wild or unstable, but definitely there. It's a steady, waiting presence. It's different from before—like something within you, something yours. You want to see if you can control it. If you can direct it back out without it slipping away entirely. You take a slow breath and focus. You don't want to just let it go. That would be too easy. Releasing it carelessly would make it scatter, fade back into the environment. You need precision, pushing it back deliberately in the same way you pulled it in. At first, nothing happens. The magic continues to hum in your chest, steady and unmoving. You can feel it there, but it doesn't respond the way it did when you absorbed it. You frown and readjust, trying to grasp at something unseen. If drawing it in was like inhaling, then releasing it should be like exhaling, right? You focus on your palm, imagining the energy traveling there. The magic resists at first, clinging to you like it's a part of you now that doesn't want to leave. You push a little harder, mentally guiding it outward. Slowly, the air around your hand begins to shimmer. It's faint at first, but then—light. Soft tendrils of something golden and fluid hover just above your skin. Milo lets out a gasp. @@.boy;"Oh, come on!"@@ He throws his hands in the air. @@.boy;"This is so unfair."@@ @@.aurora;"Now hold it,"@@ Aurora says. You grit your teeth as the magic flickers. It threatens to unravel, to move, to disperse, to return to whatever it came from. But you fight against that instinct, holding it together. It's like balancing water on your palm, trying to keep the shape without letting it slip through your fingers. The strain creeps in, and it really is work to keep this much energy in check. You feel it pressing outward, but as you breathe slowly, you adjust the way you push it outward. The shimmering light stabilizes, no longer flickering but hovering steadily. @@.boy;"Are we sure he hasn't been doing magic in secret for years?"@@ Milo asks Aurora. Aurora finally exhales, crossing her arms. @@.aurora;"No. He's just that strong."@@ You release the energy, letting it dissolve into the air. As the glow fades and the pressure in your body lightens, you glance down at your hands. The magic is gone now, but you can still feel it, waiting for you to call it again. You don't know what this means yet, but you're excited to learn more. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 13 - 5">><</button>>

<<set $mmana to Math.clamp($mmana + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a deep breath, your pulse steady despite the weight of what you're about to do. This should be overwhelming—the idea of magic, of something unseen yet real coursing through you—but instead, it just feels... right. Like a puzzle piece clicking into place. @@.player;"I want to start with mana control,"@@ you say. Aurora tilts her head slightly, appraising you. @@.aurora;"Interesting choice."@@ Milo practically beams. @@.boy;"Oh, I like this."@@ He rubs his hands together. @@.boy;"Alright, let's see what you've got!"@@ Aurora steps forward, movements fluid and deliberate. @@.aurora;"Mana control is about directing the flow of magic through yourself. Think of it like breathing—it's already happening, but when you focus on it, you can guide it. Control it."@@ @@.boy;"Or you could mess it up spectacularly,"@@ Milo adds cheerfully. Aurora ignores him. @@.aurora;"Normally, this takes practice. Some people struggle to even sense magic at first, let alone manipulate it."@@ She meets your eyes. @@.aurora;"But you... I have a feeling this will be different."@@ You exhale, rolling your shoulders. @@.player;"Alright, how do I start?"@@ Aurora gestures toward the open space in the clearing. @@.aurora;"Stand still, close your eyes, and focus."@@ You do as she says, shutting out the world around you. The distant rustle of leaves, the way the morning air brushes against your skin—it all fades into the background. Instead, you feel. After a few seconds, something shifts, and you realize it's there. Not a force pressing down on you, not something separate or foreign—it's already part of you. Like a second pulse beneath your skin, something waiting, something alive. You take a deep breath, and with it, you pull. The response is instant. A rush floods through you, tingling in your fingertips, warming your chest. It's effortless, like reaching out a hand and letting water flow around your fingers. The magic isn't resisting you, it isn't something you have to grasp or fight for, it //wants// to move. Somewhere in the distance, Milo lets out a choked, @@.boy;"Holy crap."@@ Aurora remains silent, but you can feel the way she's watching you now. You open your eyes, and for a second, you see it. The air around you literally glows, faint wisps of light curling through the air. They're responding to you, following you. Your heart pounds—not in fear, but in exhilaration. @@.aurora;"That's not normal,"@@ Aurora says, folding her arms. Milo bounces in place. @@.boy;"That was insane! Dude, you're not supposed to be able to do that on your first try!"@@ You barely hear their voices, still caught in the feeling. You glance at your hands, then at the energy lingering around you. The possibility and potential it holds. You have to test further. <<button "Try shaping the energy into something visible" "Day 13 - Mana Control 1">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice0 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Try directing the energy outward" "Day 13 - Mana Control 1">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice0 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Try drawing the energy back into yourself" "Day 13 - Mana Control 1">>\<<set $d13lesson3choice0 to 2>>\<</button>>

<<set $mstamina to Math.clamp($mstamina + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You think for a second, glancing between Milo and Aurora. The idea of magic still feels unreal—like something you shouldn't be able to do—but deep down, you know you can. So you choose something that feels right. @@.player;"What about stamina?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"How long I can actually hold magic before it burns out."@@ Milo perks up immediately. @@.boy;"Ooh, endurance? That's a bold choice."@@ Aurora studies you for a moment before nodding. @@.aurora;"Alright. But be careful. Magic isn't about brute force—it's about control. If you push too hard, you'll just burn yourself out."@@ Milo waves a hand dismissively. @@.boy;"Yeah, yeah, but that's half the fun."@@ He gestures toward the clearing. @@.boy;"Alright, step right up! Let's see what you've got, $name."@@ You move forward, standing in the open space between the trees. The air feels heavier here like the world itself is paying attention. Aurora watches silently, arms crossed, while Milo is vibrating with excitement. @@.boy;"Okay,"@@ Milo begins. @@.boy;"First, close your eyes."@@ You oblige. @@.boy;"Now, you've really got to feel for it,"@@ he continues. @@.boy;"Magic's all around you. Think of it like... heat from fire, or water running underground. Don't reach for it—just notice it."@@ At first, there's nothing. Then, slowly, something shifts. It's not sight or sound—it's awareness. A tingling in your fingertips, a hum just beneath your skin, like a forgotten muscle stretching for the first time. @@.player;"I think I've got it,"@@ you murmur. @@.boy;"Alright, that was fast,"@@ Milo says. @@.boy;"Okay, okay—next step. Instead of just noticing it, try holding onto it. Don't fight it though, just let it move through you."@@ You breathe in, steadying yourself, and focus. The hum grows louder, turning into a low vibration in your chest, spreading through your limbs. It's powerful, more than you expected, but it doesn't feel overwhelming. It just feels... natural. Milo lets out a small laugh. @@.boy;"Okay, damn, you're actually doing it. How does it feel?"@@ You open your eyes, and for the first time, you see a faint shimmer in the air around you. Aurora watches you carefully. @@.aurora;"Good. Now hold it."@@ Time stretches. Milo glances at her, then back at you. @@.boy;"Okay, so, uh, most people don't hold this for more than a few seconds before getting tired."@@ You frown. @@.player;"I'm not that tired."@@ Aurora's eyes darken. @@.aurora;"Try letting go."@@ You do, and for a split second, the world shifts. The energy doesn't just fade—it snaps. The trees rustle violently, the wind kicks up, and the ground thrums beneath your feet. It's not dangerous, but it feels like something big just recoiled from your touch. Milo stares at you, eyes bugging out of his head. @@.boy;"Uh,"@@ he clears his throat. @@.boy;"So. Fun fact. You're crazy powerful."@@ You exhale, heart still pounding. You're not sure what all this means, but one thing is clear, you're something bigger than you ever realized. Milo claps his hands together. @@.boy;"Okay, so, uh... next question: what are we going to do with you?"@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 13 - 5">><</button>>

<<if $d13lesson2choice0 is 0>>\ <<set $mritual to Math.clamp($mritual + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You roll the stick between your fingers before glancing up at Aurora. @@.player;"Give me something else."@@ Milo whoops out of excitement. @@.boy;"Yes! Love the confidence! Okay, okay, let's see..."@@ He starts digging through his pockets, muttering to himself. @@.boy;"Too boring... too complicated... ooh, definitely not that one..."@@ Aurora exhales. @@.aurora;"Milo."@@ @@.boy;"Yeah, yeah, I got it."@@ He finally pulls something out and tosses it your way. You catch it and look down to see what it is. You see a small, round stone, barely bigger than a pebble, with deep grooves carved into its surface. The markings are different from the ones on the stick—more angular, sharper. You turn it over in your palm, letting the weight of it settle. The longer you hold it, the more something in your mind starts to shift, almost like a puzzle piece locking into place. A word surfaces. ''Sever''. Then another. ''Distance''. You frown, pressing your thumb into one of the deeper grooves. A faint pulse runs through your fingertips. It feels like the magic inside of it is pushing back. ''Forget''. Your breath catches as you realize this isn't just an object with an enchantment. It's a tool. A spell woven into something solid. @@.player;"I think it's a separation charm,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"Or—no, it's more than that. It's meant to break connections and make things fade."@@ You look up at them. @@.player;"This is for erasing things, isn't it?"@@ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"You felt it."@@ You nod back. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ Milo scratches his head. @@.boy;"Man, I knew you had potential, but this is kinda scary."@@ Aurora holds out her hands, and you place the stone in her palm. She closes her fingers around it and nods, confirming something to herself. @@.aurora;"You're not just reading them, you're //understanding// them,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"That's not normal."@@ Milo grins. @@.boy;"Which, just to be clear, is awesome!"@@ Your pulse is still beating a little fast. You're not sure if awesome is the word you'd use, but one thing is obvious—you're good at this. Really good. <<button "Ask about the stone" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 2">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "See if you can activate the stone" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 2">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask Aurora what she means by 'not normal.'" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 2">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice1 to 2>>\<</button>> <<elseif $d13lesson2choice0 is 1>>\ You tighten your grip on the stick, letting its carved symbols press into your palm. @@.player;"No more dodging, Aurora. What did you mean by that? Saying you suspected something?"@@ Aurora doesn't react right away. Instead, she watches you, measuring, like she's deciding whether or not you're ready to hear what she already knows. The woods around you feel still, almost like they're waiting for her answer just as much as you are. Milo crosses his arms. @@.boy;"Now I'm curious too."@@ Aurora exhales, then gestures for you to hand back the stick. You do, and she tucks it away before finally looking at you properly. @@.aurora;"$name, you picked that up and read it instantly,"@@ she begins. @@.aurora;"It wasn't just a guess or vague impressions, no, you //knew//. Most people take years to develop that level of ritual awareness, even with training. And you've had none."@@ @@.player;"So what are you saying?"@@ you ask. Aurora doesn't even blink. @@.aurora;"What I'm saying is that you have a lot more magic in you than you think."@@ A shiver runs down your spine. Not out of fear, but rather because you know, deep down, that she's right. @@.player;"Is it because of the $referto?"@@ Aurora shakes her head. @@.aurora;"No. The spell forced it awake, but it didn't give you anything you didn't already have."@@ Milo lets out a whistle. @@.boy;"So he's just naturally ridiculous at magic? That's insane! You're, like, one of those prodigies, huh?"@@ The word //prodigy// makes you feel uneasy. It's strange to think that this is something you've always had, just buried deep inside. @@.aurora;"This is why I called you out here,"@@ she says, watching the thoughts run through your head. @@.aurora;"You need to start understanding not only what you are but what you could be."@@ Milo grins. @@.boy;"And, you know, how not to explode yourself into a bunch of $name chunks. That part's important too."@@ Aurora folds her arms. @@.aurora;"I'll ask you this now, and I need you to really think about it. Do you want to learn? Because if you do, we don't do this halfway. No half measures. We go all in."@@ You look at her, then at Milo, then finally at the woods around you. Despite how much this is to take in, it's not even a question. @@.player;"Yeah, I want to learn."@@ @@.aurora;"Then we start today."@@ Milo pumps a fist in the air. @@.boy;"This is the best decision you'll ever make, $name, I promise."@@ Aurora raises a hand, stopping Milo's enthusiasm in its tracks. @@.aurora;"But first, you choose how we move forward."@@ <<button "Ask more about the curse" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 2">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Try a more advanced ritual test" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 2">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask if magic runs in your family" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 2">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice1 to 2>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $mritual to Math.clamp($mritual + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You turn the stick over in your hands, the carved symbols rough beneath your fingertips. The knowledge is still there, humming at the edge of your mind. You understood what the enchantment was—but a new thought creeps in. What if you could change it? You glance at Aurora. @@.player;"If I can read this, can I... rewrite it?"@@ Aurora raises an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"That really depends. Do you understand it well enough to reshape it without breaking it?"@@ Milo's eyes widen with excitement. @@.boy;"Ooh, I love where this is going."@@ You focus, letting your fingers trace the carvings again. Protection. Binding. Veil. It's a solid piece of magic, tightly woven, but you can feel where the threads of it connect, how the symbols lock together to create the effect. If you were careful—if you knew what to tweak—you might be able to shift its purpose without unraveling it completely. @@.aurora;"If you're serious about this, you need to be deliberate,"@@ Aurora comments. @@.aurora;"Changing enchantments is harder than creating them from scratch. It's like trying to remodel a house while you're still inside it."@@ Milo leans in. @@.boy;"Yeah, but if anyone can do it, it's gonna be him."@@ You don't respond, too focused to comment. The symbols feel like they want to move beneath your fingers like they're waiting for you to give them a new shape. You just have to decide how. <<button "Strengthen the protection" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 2">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Weaken the binding" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 2">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Find out what the stick's purpose is" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 2">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice1 to 2>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d13lesson2choice0 is 0>>\ <<if $d13lesson2choice1 is 0>>\ You watch as Aurora tucks the stone into her palm, keeping it away from the world. But now that you've felt it, now that you know what's inside, you can't just let that sit. You take a step closer. @@.player;"Who made that?"@@ Aurora doesn't answer right away. She rolls the stone between her fingers, her gaze unreadable. It's not hesitation, but rather calculation. Like she's deciding how much to tell you. Milo, on the other hand, doesn't have the same filter. @@.boy;"Oh, it's bad,"@@ he says immediately. @@.boy;"Like, really bad. You were right—it severs connections. The kind that shouldn't be severed."@@ @@.player;"Like what?"@@ you ask, your stomach tightening. Even Milo hesitates this time, which is enough to make you nervous. Aurora finally speaks. @@.aurora;"Memories."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ She holds the stone up between her fingers. @@.aurora;"This is a forgetting stone. It's a tool. It doesn't erase entire memories, but it can fray them, weaken them. It can make things—people, places, even truths—feel distant. Less important."@@ A chill runs down your spine. @@.player;"And people actually use that?"@@ Aurora's expression suddenly hardens. @@.aurora;"Some do."@@ You gulp, realizing now why it felt so... wrong. That magic wasn't neutral or energy waiting to be shaped, it had a purpose. And that purpose was to take things away. Milo rubs the back of his neck, glancing at Aurora. @@.boy;"We, uh... we actually took that off someone. Not, like, off their person, but it was in their stuff."@@ His voice drops slightly. @@.boy;"They don't know it's gone."@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"So someone around here is planning to use magic to mess with people's memories?"@@ Aurora doesn't answer right away. She turns the stone over in her palm once more, her gaze lingering on the carved symbols. Then, with a small, precise movement, she closes her fingers around it—and it's gone. Before you can comment on that though, Aurora begins speaking. @@.aurora;"Possibly. Or they were already using it."@@ The weight of it settles in your chest, heavy and wrong. Someone—someone close—was carrying a tool meant to erase things. Not to protect. Not to learn. To take something away. And if you hadn't asked, they wouldn't have told you. You look at Aurora. @@.player;"What else aren't you telling me?"@@ She meets your gaze, completely calm. @@.aurora;"Enough to keep you safe."@@ You're not sure if you should be comforted or terrified. Either way, one thing is clear—magic isn't just happening to you anymore. It's bigger than that. Bigger than you. And you've barely scratched the surface. <<elseif $d13lesson2choice1 is 1>>\ <<set $mritual to Math.clamp($mritual + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You stare at the stone in Aurora's hand, something tugging at you—an urge, a need to do more than just understand it. You don't know why, but you get the feeling this isn't just about reading magic. You know you can //do// something with it. @@.player;"Let me try something,"@@ you say, reaching for the stone. Aurora's purple eyes flick to yours, sharp and assessing. She doesn't stop you, but she doesn't hand it over immediately either. @@.aurora;"Are you sure?"@@ @@.player;"Certain."@@ She considers your request for a moment longer before placing the stone back in your palm. It feels heavier this time, warmer, like it //knows// you're about to use it. Milo shifts excitedly. @@.boy;"Oh, this is gonna be so good."@@ You close your fingers around the stone, feeling the grooves press against your skin. The words that surfaced before—''sever, distance, forget''—hover at the edge of your mind, waiting. Magic, according to Aurora, is about shaping something unseen. So you try. You don't really know how it's supposed to work, but instinct takes over. You focus, reaching for the magic inside the stone, pushing toward it like pressing against the surface of a still pound. After a few seconds, you feel it shift, responding to you. The markings on the stone grow colder against your palm like ice spreading under your skin. The world blurs for half a second before snapping back into focus. Milo blinks. His grin falters slightly like something just slipped out of his grasp. He shakes his head, rubbing his temple. @@.boy;"Woah, that was weird,"@@ he mutters. @@.boy;"I just got hit with, like, the worst brain fog ever. What were we—?"@@ He trails off, frowning. His gaze flicks to you, then at Aurora, then back again. @@.boy;"Wait. Didn't you just—?"@@ He stops, blinking rapidly. @@.boy;"What were we talking about?"@@ Your stomach tightens as you realize it worked. You glance at Aurora, but she's watching you with the same cool expression as before, completely unaffected. Of course. She must've shielded herself before you even tried. Milo shakes his head, snapping his fingers a few times like he's trying to jumpstart his memory. @@.boy;"Ugh, this is so annoying. It's like... I //know// we were just talking about something important, but it's fuzzy. Why is it fuzzy?"@@ You swallow, the weight of what just happened settling over you. You barely even tried and it worked. You altered someone's memories. Milo groans. @@.boy;"Ugh, whatever. Probably wasn't important anyway."@@ He waves a hand, the frustration already leaving his face. @@.boy;"Anyway! Did you do something cool? Did I miss it?"@@ Aurora finally speaks. @@.aurora;"Yes, you just did."@@ She doesn't sound impressed though. If anything, there's something heavy in the way she says it. A quiet acknowledgment of the fact that this wasn't just some simple test. This was power. You flex your fingers, staring down at the stone before placing it back in Aurora's waiting hand. It's no longer cold or humming with magic. Just a simple stone, spent for now. Milo stretches. @@.boy;"It's still nagging at me though,"@@ he complains. @@.boy;"I swear we were just talking about something cool."@@ Aurora looks at you. Not at the stone, not at Milo—at you. You're not fully sure what's going on behind those eyes, but you know from this moment forward, she's watching you a lot more closely. And for the first time, you wonder if you should be watching yourself more closely, too. <<else>>\ You watch Aurora carefully. @@.player;"What do you mean, 'not normal'?"@@ Aurora closes her fingers around the stone again, rolling it once in her palm before slipping it into her pocket. It's deliberate, and you know she's deciding how much she wants to tell you. Milo, however, has no such hesitation. @@.boy;"Hmm, I don't know—just the tiny fact that most people have to actually study magic before they can read enchantments like a book."@@ He throws his hands up. @@.boy;"Meanwhile, you're over here picking it up on instinct."@@ You swallow, glancing down at your hands. Magic is new to you, and now that you think about it, you really shouldn't be able to recognize a concealment charm at a glance or feel what a spell is supposed to do just by holding it. Aurora watches your expression shift, then finally speaks. @@.aurora;"You're connected to magic in a way that takes most people years to reach, $name."@@ @@.player;"Why?"@@ @@.aurora;"That's what I'm trying to figure out."@@ That doesn't exactly make you feel any better. @@.player;"So you don't know?"@@ Aurora shakes her head. @@.aurora;"Not yet, no. But what I do know is that whatever's happening to you—it's not just because of the curse."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask, tensing slightly. She looks at you like she's measuring her words. @@.aurora;"Magic doesn't create something from nothing. It shifts, it transforms, but it doesn't invent talent."@@ She pauses. @@.aurora;"Madame Serena didn't give you this ability. She revealed something that was already there."@@ The air feels heavier now, and you take some time to let the weight of that realization settle over you. You don't know what to do with it. You don't know what it means. Milo rocks on his heels. @@.boy;"Sooo... congrats?"@@ You give him a look. @@.player;"Congrats?"@@ @@.boy;"I mean, yeah?"@@ A goofy smile fills his face. @@.boy;"This is huge. You're basically a magic prodigy."@@ @@.aurora;"Don't inflate his ego, Milo,"@@ Aurora comments. Milo lets out a laugh. @@.boy;"I'm just saying—it's kinda badass."@@ @@.aurora;"That's enough for now,"@@ Aurora declares. @@.aurora;"We'll figure out the rest either."@@ You nod, still absorbing everything, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d13lesson2choice0 is 1>>\ <<if $d13lesson2choice1 is 0>>\ You take a deep breath to ground yourself. @@.player;"Alright, before we do anything else, I need to know more about the curse."@@ Aurora nods like she expected this. @@.aurora;"Go on."@@ @@.player;"Madame Serena really didn't explain much,"@@ you begin. @@.player;"She just said some cryptic stuff and that if I don't break it by the end of the school year, it'll be permanent. I don't even know what that means. What happens if I don't stop it? Do I just—"@@ You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. @@.player;"Do I just stay like this forever?"@@ Milo rocks back and forth, expression unusually serious. @@.boy;"If she said it'll be permanent, then yeah. Magic doesn't go back on its word."@@ You swallow. You already knew this, but having it confirmed makes it feel even more real. Aurora shifts her stance. @@.aurora;"You have to figure out what the curse is really showing you. This is a spell connected to personal truth. That's a deep and powerful form of magic. And Madame Serena doesn't cast anything lightly."@@ @@.boy;"Yeah, curses like this are really tricky. If it was as simple as undoing the spell and having your problems be solved, it wouldn't be Serena-level magic."@@ You press your fingers to your temples, head starting to throb. @@.player;"So what, I have to—what? Go on some kind of journey of self-discovery? Find the meaning of life? What does that even mean?"@@ @@.aurora;"It means you have to start seeing magic not just as something happening to you, but something connected to you,"@@ Aurora says calmly. @@.aurora;"Serena didn't just throw some magic at you—she set something in motion."@@ Milo taps his chin. @@.boy;"Honestly, the whole 'mirror will reveal your truth' thing kinda says it all. You've got to figure out what that means."@@ You huff, frustrated by how complicated everything is. @@.player;"And what happens if I don't?"@@ Aurora doesn't flinch. @@.aurora;"Then by the time the school year ends, it won't //be// a curse anymore. It'll just be //you//."@@ Silence settles between you. The wind rustles the leaves. The woods feel heavier now, like even they understand what's at stake. <<if $acceptance > 19>>\ Your hands tighten into fists. You don't know if you're scared or just overwhelmed. <<else>>\ Your hands tighten into fists. You didn't want this. You never asked for this. Why the hell did this have to affect you? <</if>>\ @@.aurora;"You still have time, $name,"@@ Aurora says, patient but firm with her words. @@.aurora;"But not forever."@@ Milo claps a hand on your shoulders. @@.boy;"Hey, don't worry! You've got us now. We'll figure this out."@@ You exhale, trying to steady yourself. You know now that you have to figure this out and you have to do it before it's too late. <<elseif $d13lesson2choice1 is 1>>\ <<set $mritual to Math.clamp($mritual + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. @@.player;"Alright, then. Let's try something harder."@@ Milo grins, pumping his fist. @@.boy;"Oh, I like this attitude!"@@ He turns to Aurora. @@.boy;"Can we make him do something big? Maybe summon a ghost? Open a rift? Test his limits?"@@ Aurora gives him a flat look. @@.aurora;"He's not summoning anything."@@ Milo groans. @@.boy;"Ugh, fine. What's the plan, then?"@@ Aurora walks a few steps away and kneels down. With one hand, she traces a shape into the dirt—a small, intricate symbol made up of interlocking lines and curved strokes. It feels oddly important, like every small movement matters. When she finishes, she steps back and gestures to it. @@.aurora;"Erase part of it,"@@ she says. You frown. @@.player;"That's it?"@@ @@.aurora;"Not physically,"@@ Aurora clarifies. @@.aurora;"With magic."@@ Milo lets out a whistle. @@.boy;"Ooh, that's actually a good one. It's, like, a recognition test and a control test."@@ You stare at the symbol, the weight of the challenge settling in. @@.aurora;"This is a containment sigil,"@@ Aurora continues. @@.aurora;"It's stable, balanced. If you can read the pattern, you should just be able to see where the strength of it lies. Your job is to disrupt that—carefully. You don't want to just blast it apart, that wouldn't be good. You want to unravel it."@@ You kneel down in front of the symbol, hands resting on your knees. At first, it's just random marks in the dirt. But the more you look at it, the more it starts to make sense. There's tension in the way the lines meet, an invisible weight pressing down on the shape, holding it together. You can ''feel'' it. Your fingers twitch. You exhale and focus, reaching toward the symbol. Not physically, not with your arm, but with something deeper. For a second, nothing happens. Then a line wavers. It's small, barely noticeable, but you feel it shift like a thread being tugged from fabric. @@.boy;"He's already got it,"@@ Milo says, clearly impressed. Aurora says nothing, but you can tell she's watching you intensely. You push a little further, narrowing your focus to one particular point. It's a delicate intersection in the pattern, a place where everything connects. You don't force it apart, but rather ease it loose. The sigil shudders. One of the lines smudges, not by touch, but by intent. The containment sigil is no longer whole. The balance has been broken. And you did all this without even needing to lay a finger on it. Milo claps his hands together. @@.boy;"That was awesome!"@@ Aurora tilts her head slightly, and you're unable to read her expression. When she finally looks at you though, there's something barely there—something like approval. @@.aurora;"You're picking this up fast,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"Faster than I expected."@@ You glance at the disrupted sigil, then back at her. @@.player;"So... what does that mean?"@@ Aurora doesn't answer right away. She instead sweeps her foot across the symbol, erasing it completely, before looking you dead in the eye. @@.aurora;"It means we're done with this for now."@@ <<else>>\ You think about what Aurora said—that magic was already inside you and that the curse didn't give you anything. Shouldn't that mean someone in your family had it too? You glance at her. @@.player;"If this was always part of me, does that mean magic runs in my family?"@@ Aurora studies for a second before shaking her head. @@.aurora;"Not necessarily."@@ You frown. @@.player;"So it just... showed up?"@@ @@.aurora;"It happens,"@@ Aurora says, nodding. @@.aurora;"Magic doesn't always follow bloodlines. Sometimes it skips generations, sometimes it jumps between distant relatives, and sometimes it just chooses someone."@@ @@.player;"Chooses me?"@@ Aurora shrugs. @@.aurora;"No one knows why. But some people—very few—just //are// magic. It manifests in them naturally. No family history, no training, no nothing. Just pure potential."@@ Milo, completely oblivious to the tension, waves a hand. @@.boy;"Eh, I wouldn't worry about it, maybe it skipped a bunch of generations. Or maybe you had some long-lost magical great-great-whatever who was Merlin or Gandalf or something and now it's finally kicking in."@@ Aurora gestures toward the clearing. @@.aurora;"This is a question for later though. Right now, we focus on what's in front of us."@@ You stare at her for a moment before nodding. Sure, you can let it go for now, but the question lingers, settling deep in your chest. If your magic didn't come from your family... then where did it come from? <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d13lesson2choice1 is 0>>\ Your fingers rest on the symbol for protection. It feels solid—the backbone of the enchantment. Whatever this charm was meant to do, this was the part of keeping it safe. The part holding it together and making sure nothing could break through. And you're about to make it even stronger. You take a deep breath and focus. The magic woven into the wood isn't resisting you, but it isn't exactly welcoming you either. It's stable, locked into place, doing exactly what it was designed to do. But there are gaps—tiny ones you can feel. You press your thumb against the symbol and push, imagining those weak points filling in, those defenses tightening, the whole structure reinforcing itself. The air around you shifts. The carvings on the stick grow warmer under your touch as they pulse. The edges of the protective sigil seem to sharpen like they've become more defined and purposeful. The energy in the wood hums, stronger now, like it's been giving fresh strength. The stick grows warmer and warmer, then— ''Snap.'' A sudden ripple moves outward from your hands, like an invisible wave bursting from the charm. It spreads in a flash, distorting the air around you before vanishing just as quickly as it appeared. Milo stumbles back. @@.boy;"Woah! What was that?"@@ Aurora doesn't move, her eyes fixed on the stick. @@.aurora;"The magic just locked in."@@ You turn the stick over, frowning. It feels denser somehow, heavier in a way that has nothing to do with weight. More anchored. Whatever was once contained in this charm is now definitely sealed. Milo edges closer, peering at the carvings. @@.boy;"So... did you just supercharge it?"@@ Aurora tilts her head. @@.aurora;"More like reinforced the structure. It won't be easy to break now."@@ You exhale, letting the magic settle in your hands. @@.player;"Good."@@ You stand there, and you're glad whatever the charm was keeping in isn't going anywhere. <<elseif $d13lesson2choice1 is 1>>\ Your fingers hover over the symbol for binding. Something about it feels heavy, like an iron clasp locked in place. its the foundation of the entire enchantment—the part that holds something in. You're unsure of what's being held in, but you can feel its tension. It's meant to keep whatever's inside from getting out. You tighten your grip on the stick. If you weaken this, if you loosen the binding just a bit, then whatever was being held back will have just a little more room to move. Maybe even escape. You press your thumb against the carved symbol, doing your best to concentrate. The lines feel like they resist you, like they know what you're trying to do and don't want to budge an inch. But you keep pushing, adjusting the pattern in your mind, shifting the edges, unraveling just enough of the magic's grip to test what happens. The resistance gives away. The stick creaks in your hands as if the wood itself is reacting. A dull vibration hums through your fingertips. The air around you thickens like pressure being released from something that had been locked too tight for too long. Milo instinctively takes a step back. @@.boy;"Uhh, is it supposed to do that?"@@ Aurora's eyes narrow. @@.aurora;"No."@@ The ground beneath your feet feels different—not shaking, not unstable, but definitely awake. Like something just shifted deep beneath the earth, something subtle but important. The wind moves through the trees in an odd way. It feels like it's curling back on itself instead of flowing freely. Then, suddenly, the weight vanishes. The vibration stops. The stick in your hands is still again. It should be over, but you know something has changed. Aurora watches you carefully. @@.aurora;"Do you feel that?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ Milo glances between you two. @@.boy;"Okay, well, I don't feel it. So can someone please explain if we just—y'know—unleashed something?"@@ Aurora doesn't answer, instead turning to look out past the trees. @@.aurora;"We'll find out sooner than later,"@@ she murmurs. You don't know what you just let out, but you do know whatever it is, it's not staying hidden anymore. <<else>>\ Your fingers hover over the symbol for the veil. The one meant to hide. You don't know why, but something tells you that this symbol is the key. It's the part of the enchantment that keeps things obscured, that wraps the magic in secrecy. If you change it—if you weaken it—then whatever this charm was concealing will come to light. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but you press your thumb against the symbol anyway. You focus on the shape of it and the way it connects to the others. You imagine unraveling it, loosening its hold just enough to let something slip through. At first, nothing happens. Then, slowly, the carving beneath your touch begins to warm. The lines of the symbol almost seem to blur, like ink bleeding on paper, shifting, bending at the edges. The rest of the stick trembles faintly in your grip like something inside it is //reacting//. @@.boy;"Oh, that is so cool,"@@ Milo says, letting out a low whistle. Aurora, however, steps closer. Her voice is calm, sure, but there's something sharp beneath it. @@.aurora;"$name. Be careful."@@ The stick pulses, just once, like a heartbeat. And then a thin, wispy strand of light begins to curl off the wood like smoke rising from a candle. It drifts upward, shimmering, twisting into something //almost// recognizable before— ''Snap.'' The light disperses. The warmth fades. The stick falls still in your hands. You exhale, shoulders tense. Milo leans forward, his eyes bugging out of his head. @@.boy;"Did you see that? That was—what the hell was that?"@@ Aurora doesn't answer immediately, still watching the air where the light had been. You swallow, glancing down at the stick again. The veil is still there, but it's weaker now. It was hiding something—something you almost saw. Aurora finally speaks. @@.aurora;"That was close."@@ @@.boy;"Close to what?"@@ Milo presses. @@.aurora;"To whatever was meant to stay hidden."@@ A strange chill runs through you. You don't know what you just did, but you get the feeling you weren't supposed to. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 13 - 5">><</button>>

<<set $mritual to Math.clamp($mritual + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a deep breath, glancing at Aurora. @@.player;"Alright, let's try ritual knowledge."@@ Milo immediately lights up. @@.boy;"Ooh, that's an interesting choice. Let's see how much you already know."@@ You frown. @@.player;"What do you mean 'already know'? I don't know anything about rituals."@@ Aurora's gaze sweeps over you, studying you. @@.aurora;"Magic has patterns, $name. Structures. Even people who've never practiced it before tend to //recognize// those patterns, //feel// them. If magic is affecting you, then you've probably already started understanding it on some level, whether you realize it or not."@@ Milo grins and pulls something from his pocket. It's a... stick, worn and slightly curved, about the length of his forearm. @@.boy;"Behold!"@@ he announces, holding it up dramatically. The stick is covered in carvings—small, intricate symbols etched into the surface. They weave around one another in a way that almost looks like they move if you stare too long. He tosses it to you without warning and you catch it on instinct. The second your fingers close around the wood though, something hums beneath your skin. You inhale sharply. It's familiar. Not in a way you can explain though. It's more like a song you've never heard before but somehow know the words to. The symbols feel //right//, their shapes pulling at something deep inside you. Your fingers trace one near the center, and the moment you do, a word—no, an understanding—forms in your mind. @@.player;"Protection."@@ Aurora watches you closely. @@.aurora;"Go on."@@ You run your thumb along another marking, letting it settle, waiting for the feeling. @@.player;"Binding."@@ And another. @@.player;"Veil."@@ You exhale, looking up. @@.player;"I think it's a concealment charm. No—more than that. It's protection, but it's also anchoring something. Holding something in."@@ Milo whoops. @@.boy;"Damn! That was fast!"@@ Aurora's expression remains unreadable, but something flickers behind her eyes. @@.aurora;"That wasn't just fast,"@@ she murmurs. @@.aurora;"That was exact."@@ You look back at the stick and grip it a little tighter. The carvings glow faintly, just for a second, before fading. It's almost like they responded to you. Something inside you stirs. Milo nudges Aurora with his elbow. @@.boy;"Okay, Aurora, be honest. You //knew// he'd be this good, didn't you?"@@ Aurora doesn't answer right away. Then: @@.aurora;"I suspected."@@ You look at her. @@.player;"What did you suspect?"@@ She holds your gaze for just a moment before shaking her head no. @@.aurora;"Later. You're not ready for that yet."@@ Milo groans. @@.boy;"Oh, come on! Give him something! He just read that like it was the back of a cereal box or something!"@@ Aurora ignores him, turning to you. @@.aurora;"So. Do you want to push further?"@@ <<button "Try another object" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 1">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice0 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask Aurora to explain what she suspected" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 1">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice0 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "See if you can alter the stick's enchantment" "Day 13 - Ritual Knowledge 1">>\<<set $d13lesson2choice0 to 2>>\<</button>>

<<set $mspellcraft to Math.clamp($mspellcraft + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at Aurora and Milo. @@.player;"Let's start with spellcraft."@@ Milo literally jumps with joy. @@.boy;"Oh, yes! Jumping right into the fun stuff—I like that!"@@ Aurora doesn't look surprised by your choice, just continuing to watch you with that unreadable expression she always wears. @@.aurora;"Fine, let's see what you can do,"@@ she says with a nod. Milo claps his hands together, buzzing with excitement. @@.boy;"Alright, alright! We'll start small—just a basic sigil casting. No wild incantations, no dangerous side effects. Just a little test to see if you can shape magic."@@ He crouches down and draws a quick symbol in the dirt—a simple spiral with a single diagonal line through it. @@.boy;"This is a basic focusing sigil. All you have to do is trace over it and push a little intent into it."@@ You frown, crouching beside him. @@.player;"And how exactly do I... 'push intent'?"@@ Milo shrugs. @@.boy;"I don't know, you just do."@@ You glance at Aurora, half-expecting her to offer a more structured explanation, but she just watches, waiting. You take a slow breath and reach out anyway, pressing your fingertips into the dirt, tracing over the symbol. The second you do, the air shifts. The sigil glows, faint at first, then bright. A deep, electric violet pulses outward from the symbol, the spiral thrumming with a life of its own. The dirt doesn't burn or crack, but you can feel the power radiating through it, like a heartbeat syncing with your own. Milo gasps. @@.boy;"Oh. Ohhh. Oh dude, you're good at this."@@ Aurora doesn't react, but her posture changes—subtle, but there. Her arms uncross and her weight shifts forward. The symbol keeps glowing, the energy humming beneath your fingers, steady and real. You don't know the details, but you know you don't want to stop. <<button "Continue" "Day 13 - 5">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 14>>\ Sunday mornings always have a strange stillness to them. The world outside your window moves a little slower—no rush of students heading to school or early morning alarms blaring. Just the soft hum of the wind against the glass, the occasional chirp of a bird, and the distant sound of life carrying on without urgency. You roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling. Yesterday still lingers in your mind—the way magic pulsed through your fingertips in the woods, the weight of knowing that something inside you is shifting. It's a lot, to say the least. Shaking your head, you check your phone to see there are three messages, each from a different person. You check Luke's message first. @@.luke;"Yo, wake up. You're not allowed to be a hermit today."@@ Smirking, you scroll to the next one sent by Vincent. @@.vincent;"Good morning, friend! Um, if you're free, I'm at the library right now. No pressure, of course! Just thought I'd ask."@@ Then you see the third message. @@.jordan;"Need a favor. Meet me at the theater if you're free."@@ You blink. Wait. Since when did you even have Jordan added on social media? You scroll up, realizing there's barely any history between you—maybe one or two messages from forever ago. Jordan barely talks to anyone, let alone you. Luke's text is nothing surprising. He's always like this—pushing you to get out of the house, dragging you into whatever dumb idea he has for the day. If you go with him, it'll be effortless. No expectations, no pressure. Just a break from overthinking. Vincent's message is polite, almost hesitant. It's like he half-expects you to say no. He's never the type to push, opting to just quietly invite you into his world. A slow afternoon of browsing books with him wouldn't be a bad way to clear your head. But Jordan? ''Jordan never asks for favors.'' You don't even know what he wants. You don't know why he'd reach out to you, specifically. Three choices. Three ways to spend your Sunday. Who do you meet up with? <<button "Luke" "Day 14 - 2">>\<<set $d14meetup to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D14_meetup" "luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Vincent" "Day 14 - 2">>\<<set $d14meetup to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D14_meetup" "vincent" "story">><</button>> <<button "Jordan" "Day 14 - 2">>\<<set $d14meetup to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D14_meetup" "jordan" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $shoes to 0>>\ <<if $d14meetup is 0>>\ <<set $afterCloset to "Day 14 - Luke">>\ <<elseif $d14meetup is 1>>\ <<set $afterCloset to "Day 14 - Vincent">>\ <<else>>\ <<set $afterCloset to "Day 14 - Jordan">>\ <</if>>\ You give a small nod to yourself, confident in the choice you made. Pushing yourself up from your seat, you stretch briefly before making your way to the closet. As you pull the doors open, your eyes scan over the hanging clothes, debating what to wear for the occasion. <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>> <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">><</button>> <<button "Just throw something on and go" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriorn.png"> The night air is crisp as you step onto your street, your house coming into view beneath the glow of the full moon. It's quiet. A little //too// quiet. Normally, there'd be some sign of life—a light, the hum of the TV, maybe the faint clatter of dishes. But tonight? Nothing. You hesitate at the bottom of the porch steps. Weird. Still, you take a careful step onto the porch, your footsteps barely making a sound. The night breeze rustles the last of the autumn leaves across the driveway, a dry whisper against the concrete. You reach for the doorknob, already preparing to twist it as quietly as possible. But the second you push the door open— @@.girl;"You're late."@@ You freeze. The living room is dark, but not empty. Your mom is sitting in her armchair, arms crossed, eyes sharp even in the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. She was waiting for you. You swallow. Busted. <<button "Confront your mom" "Day 14 - 4">><</button>>

<<set $d14feminineLooks to $feminineLooks>>\ <<if $eventMomNotice is true>>\ <<set $d14momnotice to true>> <<set $momKnow to true>>\ @@.girl;"You're late."@@ Your mom's voice cuts through the stillness of the house, stopping you the second you step inside. The living room is dark other than the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains. Your mom sits in her usual armchair, arms crossed and gaze sharp. @@.girl;"Sit,"@@ she says. It's not a request. You move toward the couch, lowering yourself onto the edge of the cushion. Your fingers dig into your shorts as you brace for whatever conversation is about to happen. She exhales, slow and measured, before speaking again. @@.girl;"Why have you been avoiding me?"@@ You shift slightly. @@.player;"I haven't—"@@ @@.girl;"$name."@@ The single word carries enough of a warning to make you stop mid-sentence. She leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees, expression searching. @@.girl;"You barely talk to me anymore. You come home late. You don't tell me where you've been. When we do talk, you barely say anything."@@ Her eyes flick over you, taking in every detail. @@.girl;"You told me about the curse, and I believed you. I told you I would help you. But how can I help if you won't even let me in?"@@ @@.player;"It's not like that,"@@ you start, but she shakes her head. @@.girl;"Then what //is// it like, $name?"@@ she presses. @@.girl;"What exactly am I missing here?"@@ You don't answer, unsure how to respond. The $referto isn't some distant problem you can ignore, it's here and it's real. It's in your reflection every morning, in the way your clothes fit just a little differently, in the way people stare at you in the hallways. Hell, it's in the way your mom is looking at you right now—not with anger or fear, but with ''concern''. @@.girl;"Do you even want this to stop?"@@ Your heart jumps in your chest. She watches your face carefully. @@.girl;"Do you //like// the way the curse is changing you?"@@ The question lingers between you, heavier than the silence before it. <<button "I think I do" "Day 14 - Mom O">>\<<set $d14MNXC0 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D14_mom_confront_response" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't know" "Day 14 - Mom O">>\<<set $d14MNXC0 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D14_mom_confront_response" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "I just want to be me again" "Day 14 - Mom O">>\<<set $d14MNXC0 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D14_mom_confront_response" 2 "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $d14momnotice to false>> <<set $momKnow to false>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ @@.girl;"You're late."@@ The words hit you like a hammer, cutting through the silence of the darkened living room. You freeze in the doorway, one foot still outside, the cool night air pressing against your back. Your mom is sitting in her usual armchair, arms crossed and posture stiff. The only light in the living room comes from the moon outside, filtering through the curtains and casting soft, pale streaks across the floor. She was //waiting// for you. @@.girl;"Close the door,"@@ she says. Not angry, not yelling— just ''firm''. You step inside, pulling the door shut behind you. The lock clicks into place, the house settling around you in near silence. For a long moment, your mom just looks at you. Really looks at you. And then, she lets out a slow exhale. @@.girl;"$name."@@ Something about the way she says your name sends a chill down your spine. @@.girl;"I need you to tell me the truth,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"What is going on with you?"@@ Your breath catches. She's looking right at you. At your face, your body, at the way you stand there, looking just different enough that no excuse can cover it up anymore. @@.girl;"This isn't normal,"@@ she continues, voice steady. @@.girl;"You aren't normal right now. The way you look—$name, I know what my own child looks like. And I know when something is wrong."@@ She leans forward slightly, her eyes searching yours. @@.girl;"Tell me what's happening."@@ The room feels smaller, almost as if the walls are pressing in. Your heartbeat drums in your ears, loud and uneven. She knows. Maybe not exactly, but she's not stupid. She's been watching, noticing—seeing you slip further and further into something unexplained. Lying is an option. Maybe. But looking at her now, at the worry behind her firm expression, you're not sure she'll accept that. Not this time.  <<button "Tell the truth" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O">>\<<set $d14MNXC0 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D14_mom_confront_response" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Deflect" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O">>\<<set $d14MNXC0 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D14_mom_confront_response" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Get defensive" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O">>\<<set $d14MNXC0 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D14_mom_confront_response" 2 "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.girl;"You're late."@@ Your mom's voice cuts through the stillness of the house the second you step inside. You freeze in the doorway, heart pounding as your eyes adjust to the dimness. The living room is dark, save for the moonlight spilling in through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. But most importantly, sitting in her usual armchair, arms crossed, gaze sharp and expectant is your mom. She was //waiting// for you. Slowly, you shut the door behind you, feeling the sight of her stare settle onto your shoulders. She exhales through her nose, not quite a sigh, but close. @@.girl;"Sit."@@ You hesitate for half a second before obeying, stepping further inside and lowering yourself onto the couch. Your mom doesn't speak right away. She just looks at you, taking you in like she's trying to solve a puzzle that's been bothering her. @@.girl;"What's going on with you?"@@ she finally asks. @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask. She gives you a look—the kind that cuts straight through any attempt at deflection. @@.girl;"$name, don't play dumb. You've been acting strange for weeks now. You come home late, you barely talk to me, and I //know// you've been sneaking around. Don't even try to tell me I'm imagining it, because I've been paying attention."@@ Your throat tightens. She leans forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees. @@.girl;"I need you to tell me the truth."@@ The fact that she's not angry makes you feel worse. She's just ''worried''. Your mind races for an excuse—anything that might get you out of this conversation—but nothing feels good enough. It has become obvious that something's off. You just weren't expecting to be cornered about it tonight. <<button "Tell the truth" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem X">>\<<set $d14MNXC0 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D14_mom_confront_response" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Deflect" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem X">>\<<set $d14MNXC0 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D14_mom_confront_response" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Get defensive" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem X">>\<<set $d14MNXC0 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D14_mom_confront_response" 2 "story">><</button>> <</if>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ The day has finally wound down, the weight of everything settling onto your shoulders now that you're alone. You exhale, letting your bag slip from your shoulder onto the floor. Your body is heavy with exhaustion, but your mind still hums with the lingering thoughts of the day. <<if $d14meetup is 0>>\ You catch the faint scent of the evening breeze on your top, of crushed grass when you and Luke sat at the top of the hill watching the sunset. You wonder if he's lying awake right now too, staring at the ceiling, maybe even thinking about you. <<elseif $d14meetup is 1>>\ The scent of coffee still lingers on your fingertips, a reminder of the quiet library café, of Vincent's rambling voice spilling out facts before he could stop himself. He probably didn't even realize how much he'd let slip about himself today. You think about the book he gave you, still resting on your desk, waiting to be opened. Maybe you'll start reading it tomorrow. Maybe you'll ask him more about it next time. <<elseif $d14meetup is 2 and $d14jordanchoice1 isnot undefined>>\ Your arms still feel a little sore from earlier, the reminder of throwing yourself into the rehearsal, of watching Jordan push himself past his usual walls for a moment. The way he let his guard down—not all the way, but just enough to show a glimpse of what he really wanted. It lingers on your mind, how different he looked when he was talking about the stage instead of football. You wonder if he regrets letting you see that part of him. If, by tomorrow, he'll pretend none of it ever happened. <</if>>\ You sigh, shaking off the thoughts as you move toward your dresser, pulling out your pajamas. Changing feels almost automatic—the soft fabric being a quiet comfort after a long day. You take a moment to stretch, rolling out the tension in your shoulders before turning toward your bed. The sheets are cool as you slide beneath them, the blanket's familiar weight settling over you. Outside, the wind moves through the trees, rustling softly against the glass. You can't help but ponder if the world beyond your window is as calm and undisturbed as it seems. Everything feels quiet. Still. Your eyes drift toward the ceiling, your thoughts stretching out into the darkness, reaching toward something you can't name. Change is happening all around you—within you— and no matter how much you try to slow it down, you know time will keep moving forward. Eventually, your eyelids grow heavy, your breath evening out as sleep pulls at you. Tomorrow will come soon. <<button "A new day approaches" "Day 15 - 1">><</button>>

<<if $d14jordanchoice0 is 0>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You exhale, rubbing the back of your neck. Whatever this is, it clearly matters to him—even if he won't say why. And honestly? You're curious. @@.player;"Yeah, I'll help,"@@ you say. No hesitation. Jordan watches you for a second before nodding, just once. @@.jordan;"Good. Then let's get started."@@ <<button "Begin" "Day 14 - Jordan 2">><</button>> <<elseif $d14jordanchoice0 is 1>>\ <<if $jordanRelo > 9>>\ You cross your arms, not moving from where you stand. @@.player;"Not until you tell me what this is //really// about."@@ Jordan exhales sharply through his nose, tilting his head back like he's already regretting asking you. @@.jordan;"It's just lines, $name. Don't make it complicated."@@ @@.player;"You made it complicated the second you asked me,"@@ you counter. @@.player;"You don't ask for help. Ever. And now, suddenly, I'm the guy you need?"@@ Jordan presses his lips together, his jaw working like he's debating whether or not to just shut you out. But then, after a beat, he sighs. @@.jordan;"It's for something outside of school,"@@ he admits, voice quieter. @@.jordan;"An audition. I need to be better than I am. That's it."@@ You watch him carefully. Jordan's always careful with his words, like he's measuring out exactly how much he wants people to know. But something about the way he says it—like it's //just// an audition, like it doesn't matter that much—feels off. @@.player;"Why not ask someone from theater?"@@ you push. @@.player;"Anthony, Sharon, even Mr. Bennet would—"@@ @@.jordan;"No,"@@ Jordan interrupts, sharp but not angry. @@.jordan;"I don't want them to know."@@ There it is. The real reason. You don't know all the details, but you know enough to get the picture. Jordan doesn't just want to get better—he wants to hide that he's even trying. You're not sure why, but you can tell he's not ready to tell you yet. But this is probably the most honest he's ever been with you. He shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. @@.jordan;"So, are you gonna help or not?"@@ You hesitate for just a moment before nodding. @@.player;"Yeah, I'll help."@@ Jordan exhales, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. @@.jordan;"Good. Then let's get started."@@ <<button "Begin" "Day 14 - Jordan 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You cross your arms, standing your ground. @@.player;"I can help, but not until you tell me what this is //really// about.'@@ Jordan's expression darkens, and just like that, the walls go up. @@.jordan;"Forget it,"@@ he mutters, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"This was a mistake."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Wait—"@@ But he's already turning away, grabbing his bag from the couch. @@.jordan;"I don't know why I thought you'd just go along with it."@@ His voice is cold and detached—the same tone he uses with people he doesn't care to deal with. @@.jordan;"Don't worry about it."@@ @@.player;"Jordan—"@@ @@.jordan;"See you at school, $name."@@ And just like that, he walks past you, pushing open the backstage door and disappearing into the dim afternoon light. You stand there for a moment, watching the door swing shut, an uneasy feeling settling in your chest. You don't know what just happened, but one thing is clear—Jordan doesn't let people in, and whatever this was, you just got shut out. Looks like you won't be running lines today. <<button "Go back home" "Day 14 - 3">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You cross your arms, leaning back slightly. @@.player;"Can't you ask someone else?"@@ Jordan's expression doesn't change at first—still unreadable, still perfectly composed. But then his jaw tightens, just a little, and his fingers curl slightly at his sides. It's subtle, but for someone who rarely shows anything, it might as well be a full reaction. He exhales sharply through his nose and looks away. @@.jordan;"Forget it,"@@ he mutters. Before you can say anything else, he turns on his heel and starts walking back toward the stage. The conversation is over. For a second, you consider stopping him—asking what this was really about, why he even bothered texting you in the first place—but something about the way he carries himself makes it clear: he's done. You linger a moment in the quiet backstage, surrounded by old costumes and set pieces that feel a little too much like unfinished stories. Then, with nothing left to say, you turn and leave. Jordan doesn't try to stop you. <<button "Go back home" "Day 14 - 3">><</button>> <</if>>\

Jordan doesn't waste any time. The moment you agree, he turns and grabs a crumpled script from a nearby table, flipping through the pages with practiced ease. He doesn't say thanks, but then again, you weren't expecting him to. He tosses the script toward you, and you barely manage to catch it before it smacks you in the chest. You recognize the title immediately—//The Glass Menagerie//. @@.player;"Really?"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"You're going full Tennessee Williams for this?"@@ Jordan shrugs like it's not a big deal. @@.jordan;"It's what they're using for the audition monologues."@@ You frown slightly. @@.player;"You didn't mention what this audition is for."@@ He doesn't look up from the script. @@.jordan;"You didn't ask."@@ You basically //did// ask, but you let it go. Jordan flips to a page and hands you the script. @@.jordan;"Scene six. You'll read Laura."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You're playing Tom?"@@ Jordan gives you a flat look. @@.jordan;"Obviously."@@ It's not a bad choice. The character fits him—Tom, the disillusioned dreamer, stuck in a life he doesn't want, quietly desperate for something ''more''. You wonder if Jordan sees himself in the role or if he just picked it because it sounded good. Still, you can't help but smirk. @@.player;"Mr. Bennet would //love// this. He's been trying to get someone to take this play seriously all year."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, well, Bennet also tried to cast me as a talking tree once, so I think we have different ideas of what I should be taking seriously."@@ You snort. That checks out. Jordan gestures toward the script. @@.jordan;"You good?"@@ You glance down at the page, scanning Laura's lines. It's the scene where she and Tom sit together, where Tom—tired of his suffocating home life—talks about the movies and his longing for escape. It's a quiet, heavy moment, the kind that only works if the actors let it breathe. You look back at Jordan. His expression is unreadable, but there's a sharp focus in his eyes, like this actually matters to him. Like it's ''real''. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say finally. @@.player;"I'm good."@@ He nods, takes a breath, and starts. @@.jordan;"Yes, movies! Look at them—all of those glamorous people—having adventures—hogging it all, gobbling the whole thing up! You know what happens? People go to the movies instead of moving!"@@ His voice is steady and controlled, but there's something underneath it—something raw. He's good. Really good. You read your first line, falling into rhythm with him. The words come easily, the tension in the scene settling between you. For a moment, the rest of the world fades away. It's just you, Jordan, and the story unfolding between you. Then Jordan delivers Tom's next monologue, the one about escape, about feeling trapped. And something in his voice shifts. It's not just acting anymore. @@.jordan;"I'm like my father. The bastard son of a bastard! Did you notice how he's grinning in his picture in there? And he's been absent going on sixteen years!"@@ There's no hesitation, no self-consciousness in his delivery. It's the most open you've ever seen him—like for once, he's not holding himself back. Like he's actually //feeling// something. You're about to say your next line when he abruptly stops. His jaw tightens. He shakes his head slightly and mutters, @@.jordan;"Damn it."@@ You lower your script. @@.player;"That was good."@@ @@.jordan;"It wasn't good ''enough'',"@@ he says immediately. He runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. @@.jordan;"Something's off. It's not landing right."@@ You hesitate, watching him. This isn't just practice for him. He cares about this. More than you realized. And for the first time, you start to wonder how much this audition really means to him. <<button "You're overthinking it, that was great" "Day 14 - Jordan 3">>\<<set $d14jordanchoice1 to true>>\<</button>> <<button "You're holding back, you need to let go more." "Day 14 - Jordan 3">>\<<set $d14jordanchoice1 to false>>\<</button>>

<<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d14jordanchoice1 is true>>\ @@.player;"You're overthinking it,"@@ you say, trying to reassure Jordan. @@.player;"That was great."@@ Jordan exhales sharply, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"No it wasn't."@@ You roll your eyes and lean back against the worn-out couch. @@.player;"Dude. You just delivered that like a professional. If I didn't know you, I'd think you //actually// had a deadbeat dad and a burning need to escape small-town life."@@ Jordan doesn't respond right away. His jaw is still tight, his arms crossed, but he isn't looking at you—he's staring off toward the darkened stage, almost as if he's running the scene in his head over and over again, searching for something that isn't there. @@.player;"You're overthinking it,"@@ you say again, more firmly this time. @@.player;"Mr. Bennet was right. You're //good//, Jordan. Like, stupidly good. And I'm not just saying that because I don't want to be here all night."@@ That gets a small scoff out of him, barely audible but there. @@.player;"You're hitting every beat perfectly. Every line. Every pause. Every shift in emotion,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"You've got control. You get the character. So what's the problem?"@@ Jordan presses his lips together like he doesn't want to say it. But then, after a long pause, he mutters. @@.jordan;"It's too controlled."@@ You frown. @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ His fingers flex at his sides before he exhales, like he's admitting something he doesn't want to. @@.jordan;"Bennet said I need to stop holding back. That I keep everything too contained, like I'm afraid to let go."@@ Jordan had taken Mr. Bennet's critique in stride a few days ago, nodding like it didn't bother him. But now? You're starting to think it //did//. @@.player;"You want the part, don't you?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"For Romeo or Mercutio."@@ Jordan finally looks at you. @@.jordan;"Yeah."@@ There's something in his voice—something quieter than usual. He's not saying it with arrogance, not saying it like it's expected. He's saying it like it's real. Like it actually means something to him. You think about the times you've seen Jordan on stage in class. How effortless it looks, how he fits into any role thrown at him like he was built for it. But now, you're realizing that's not effortless at all. He's //thinking// about it. Overanalyzing every little move and shift in tone. @@.player;"Okay, so maybe Mr. Bennet has a point,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But you can't force that. You're already good—you just have to trust yourself more."@@ Jordan scoffs and shakes his head. @@.jordan;"That's not how it works, $name."@@ @@.player;"It //is// how it works,"@@ you argue. @@.player;"You're holding yourself back, but not because you can't let go. You're doing it because you're scared to."@@ The words tumble out of your mouth before you can think too hard about them, and Jordan's head snaps toward you, eyes narrowing slightly. @@.jordan;"Scared?"@@ he repeats. @@.player;"I said what I said,"@@ you say, holding your ground. For a second, you think he's going to snap, tell you that you don't know what the hell you're talking about. But instead, he just looks at you like he's trying to figure out how serious you are. Then, finally, he exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. @@.jordan;"...Maybe."@@ It's barely audible, but it's there. And coming from Jordan? That's basically a full confession. You can't help but smirk. @@.player;"You know, it's pretty funny that you chose a monologue about a guy desperate to get out of his own life."@@ @@.jordan;"Shut up,"@@ Jordan says, glaring at you. @@.player;"Am I wrong?"@@ @@.jordan;"Shut //up//."@@ You laugh and toss the script back at him. @@.player;"Come on, Jordan. Let's do it again. And this time? Stop thinking so much."@@ Jordan rolls his eyes, but there's a shift in his posture—something a little less tense and a little more open. When he starts his monologue again, there's a difference in his voice. It's small, barely noticeable. But it's there. <<else>>\ <<set $timmersion to Math.clamp($timmersion + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Jordan exhales sharply, shaking his head as he stares down at the script. His grip tightens around the edges of the pages, like he's trying to squeeze something out of them that just isn't coming. @@.player;"Jordan, you're holding back,"@@ you say, watching him carefully.. @@.player;"You ''need'' to let go more."@@ Jordan's gaze flicks up to you, sharp and defensive. @@.jordan;"I //am// letting go."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"No, you're only acting like you're letting go."@@ You nod toward the script in his hands. @@.player;"That last part about skipping out like his dad? It's supposed to feel messy. You said all the right words, sure, but you kept it controlled. You held it back."@@ Jordan's jaw tightens. He looks like he wants to argue, but then his shoulders drop slightly. @@.jordan;"Mr. Bennet says the same thing to me."@@ @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you ask. Jordan shifts uncomfortably, like he's already regretting bringing it up. @@.jordan;"He pulled me aside once. Said I was good—better than I was at the start of the year—but that I wasn't //there// yet. Said I had all this emotion sitting just under the surface, but I won't let it out."@@ He scoffs and looks away. @@.jordan;"Whatever that means."@@ You think about Mr. Bennet's class, about how the first play of the year is //Romeo and Juliet//. About how Jordan—who never seems to care about anything—has actually been trying in theater. @@.player;"You're going for Romeo, aren't you?"@@ you say, putting the puzzle pieces together. Jordan is quiet for a beat too long before his expression hardens slightly. @@.jordan;"Or Mercutio,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I don't care which."@@ Jordan really isn't the type to put effort into something unless it matters. And right now, you're realizing just how much this //does// matter to him. @@.player;"Mr. Bennet was right,"@@ you finally say. @@.player;"You've got all this energy, all this //pressure// behind your words, but you're still keeping control of it. That works in football, but not here."@@ Jordan shoots you a look. @@.jordan;"And you don't think I know that?"@@ @@.player;"Prove it then,"@@ you say, leaning forward. @@.player;"You're Tom. You're pissed off. You're trapped. You want to leave, but you can't. You're not thinking about how you sound or how you look—you're just feeling it."@@ Jordan stares at you for a long moment, his fingers tightening around the script. Then, without another word, he turns back toward the stage. You step back as he exhales, rolling his shoulders before shutting his eyes. When he opens them, something has changed. @@.jordan;"I'm like my father. The bastard son of a bastard!"@@ The words hit the air heavier than before. It's raw. Less polished, less careful. @@.jordan;"Did you notice how he's grinning in his picture in there? And he's been absent going on sixteen years!"@@ His voice doesn't crack, but there's something sharp at the edges of it. The frustration isn't just acting anymore—it's real. He doesn't stop this time, continuing to push forward. His tone rises and falls, filled with something desperate. You can hear it in his voice, in the way his fists clench at his sides. He's letting go, just a little. And when he finishes, the silence that follows is thick. You don't say anything at first, just staring. For the first time since you met him, Jordan isn't just //playing// the part. He //is// the part. Jordan exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. @@.jordan;"Better?"@@ he asks, trying to sound unaffected. You nod. @@.player;"Way better."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue practicing" "Day 14 - Jordan 4">><</button>>

By the time you and Jordan finish running the scene for what must be the tenth time, the stage lights have dimmed to a dull glow. The theater is silent except for the rustling of scripts and faint creaks of wood settling. The outside world feels distant, like you've both been cut off from time itself, existing only in the small pocket of space between the stage and the empty seats. After a while, Jordan exhales, running a hand through his hair as he tosses the script on the couch beside him. @@.jordan;"That's enough for today,"@@ he mutters, voice low and tired. You nod, stretching your arms out as you lean back against the side of the worn-out prop table. @@.player;"Yeah, that last run was solid. You're starting to let it hit."@@ Jordan doesn't respond immediately. He instead opts to pace a little, as if trying to work off the residual energy of the scene. Finally, he sits down on the couch, his usual rigid posture gone. His arms rest on his knees, his fingers loosely clasped together as he stares at the ground, lost in thought. You don't say anything. You just wait. The air between you is comfortable in a strange sort of way—like the tension from earlier has dissolved, leaving behind something quieter, something unspoken but understood. Then, without looking at you, Jordan mutters, @@.jordan;"Thanks."@@ It's quiet. Awkward. Like the word really isn't something he's used to saying out loud. You glance at him, surprised. @@.player;"For what?"@@ Jordan shifts slightly, finally glancing up at you. There's a flicker of hesitation in his expression, like he's debating if he actually wants to explain himself or if he should just let it go. But after a moment, he sighs and leans back against the couch. @@.jordan;"For this,"@@ he says simply, gesturing vaguely to the stage, the script, the empty theater around you. @@.jordan;"For actually taking it seriously. For not making it weird."@@ @@.player;"Did you think I //would// make it weird?"@@ you ask. He looks away. @@.jordan;"I don't know. People do."@@ The weight in his voice catches you off guard. Jordan's always been hard to read, always kept people at a distance—but now, for the first time, you're starting to see the cracks in the persona he's built around himself. The way he's always guarded, always cool and composed, like getting people too close would be some kind of mistake. And you, for whatever reason, get the feeling he's not thanking you for running lines. There's something else—something unspoken. Like he's relieved to just //be// here, without expectations, without anyone watching. You nod slowly. @@.player;"Well... you're good. And I get why you care about this."@@ Jordan watches you for a second, his eyes unreadable. Then, almost like he's embarrassed, he exhales sharply and shakes his head. @@.jordan;"Whatever,"@@ he mutters, standing up and grabbing his bag. @@.jordan;"We should head out. It's getting late."@@ You push off the table, stretching again as you follow him toward the backstage exit. The night air is cool when you step outside, the streets quiet except for the occasional passing car. The streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, and for a moment, the two of you just stand there, neither one of you in a rush to leave. Jordan adjusts the strap of his bag and stares off down the street. @@.jordan;"Guess I'll see you in class."@@ There's an openness to his, like maybe—for the first time—he wouldn't mind if this didn't just end here. You hesitate, then glance at him. <<button "Ask Jordan if he wants to hang out" "Day 14 - Jordan 5">>\<<set $d14jordanextended to true>>\<<trackChoice "D14_jordan_extended" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Part ways" "Day 14 - Jordan 5">>\<<set $d14jordanextended to false>>\<<trackChoice "D14_jordan_extended" false "story">><</button>>

<<if $d14jordanextended is true>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for a second, then glance at Jordan. @@.player;"Hey, you wanna hang out? Maybe get food or something?"@@ Jordan stops adjusting his bag and looks at you, eyebrows slightly raised like he wasn't expecting the question. He shifts his weight, glancing down at the empty street, like he's considering whether to say no and go back to whatever his usual routine is. Then, after a beat, he exhales through his nose, a little quieter than a sigh but still reluctant. @@.jordan;"...Yeah, sure,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I could eat."@@ It's not the most enthusiastic answer, but it's something. You walk together down the street, the conversation light, mostly about nothing—school, how Mr. Bennet's obsession with //Romeo and Juliet// is getting ridiculous, and the football game two days ago. It's not much, but it's //easy//, which is weird, considering how things usually are with him. After a few minutes, you reach Clancy's, a fast food place that's been around in Crestview Bay forever. It's nothing fancy—just a slightly worn-down restaurant with a faded red-and-white sign, flickering fluorescent lights, and the smell of grease and salt permanently baked into the air. The kind of place high schoolers and truckers alike keep in business. Jordan pushes the door open, and you step inside. The place is mostly empty except for a few people scattered at the booths and an exhausted-looking worker behind the counter, barely acknowledging you both as you approach the register. Jordan scans the menu quickly before crossing his arms. @@.jordan;"I'm getting a double cheeseburger, large fries, and a shake,"@@ he says, almost like he's making a statement rather than ordering food. You guess it makes sense, he is a quarterback, after all. He probably runs through more calories in a day than you do in a week. @@.player;"I should've figured you'd eat like an athlete,"@@ you joke, glancing at the menu. Jordan raises an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"Figured you'd say something stupid,"@@ he replies dryly, his usual bite absent. You smirk, shaking your head before turning to the menu. <<button "Get chicken nuggets and a drink" "Day 14 - Jordan 6">>\<<set $d14jordanfood to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D14_jordan_food" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Get a burger and fries" "Day 14 - Jordan 6">>\<<set $d14jordanfood to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D14_jordan_food" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Get the biggest thing on the menu" "Day 14 - Jordan 6">>\<<set $d14jordanfood to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D14_jordan_food" 2 "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, see you in class,"@@ you say. Jordan nods once, shifting his bag on his shoulder. He looks like he's about to say something else, but then he just exhales and turns toward the sidewalk. You stay where you are, watching as he starts walking away. His steps are steady, purposeful, but not rushed. The streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, his figure cutting through the dim glow of the city. Even after tonight, he still feels like a mystery. You ran lines with him for hours, watched him break down a monologue with more focus and intensity than you've ever seen him put into anything at school, listened as he admitted that he actually cares about this. And yet, it still feels like you've only scratched the surface of who Jordan //really// is. Most people at school think they have him figured out. He's the star quarterback who can throw a perfect pass under pressure and walk through the halls like nothing in the world weighs on him. But that wasn't the Jordan you saw tonight. Tonight, you saw someone who thinks too much. Someone who pushes himself harder than he has to. Someone who isn't just good at acting—wants to be good at it. Someone who, for whatever reason, doesn't want anyone else to know that. You don't know why he asked you for help. Maybe it was just convenience—you're in theater, and he trusts you not to run your mouth. Or maybe it was something else. Either way, you're starting to wonder just how much more there is to Jordan than what he lets people see. A cool breeze cuts through the night, and you exhale, finally turning away. Whatever this was, whatever it //meant//—you'll have to figure that out later. For now, you slip your hands into your pockets and head home. <<button "Go back home" "Day 14 - 3">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d14jordanfood is 0>>\ You scan the menu, considering your options. Something about a full burger feels like too much, but just getting fries and a drink seems like not enough. Eventually, you settle on something in between. @@.player;"I'll get six chicken nuggets and a drink,"@@ you say stepping forward to place your order. The cashier nods, pressing a few more buttons before listing off the total. You shift your weight, reaching into your pocket for your wallet— —but Jordan's already tapping his card against the reader. You freeze. Blink. @@.player;"What—?"@@ The machine beeps, and the screen flashes //Approved//. Jordan steps back, shoving his card into his pocket like nothing happened. You stare at him. @@.player;"Did you just—?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says, already turning away like it's not a big deal. @@.jordan;"What, you want me to ask for a refund?"@@ @@.player;"Not that, I just—"@@ You frown, baffled. @@.player;"Why'd you pay for mine?"@@ Jordan sighs, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. @@.jordan;"It's just some food, $name. It's not that deep."@@ You squint at him, trying to figure out if he's messing with you. @@.player;"You don't even like me that much."@@ Jordan lets out a short huff that isn't quite a laugh. @@.jordan;"Yeah, well. Consider it payment for running lines."@@ You cross your arms. @@.player;"You //asked// me to help you."@@ @@.jordan;"And I //paid// you in nuggets,"@@ Jordan deadpans. You open your mouth to argue, then shut it, because... well, fair enough. You're not about to reject free food, even if you have no idea why Jordan suddenly decided to be generous. The cashier, barely engaged in the conversation, rips off the receipt and nods toward the side. @@.girl;"Your tray will be ready in a sec."@@ You step to the side with Jordan, waiting. The place smells like deep-fried grease and cheap soda syrup, and the menu screens flicker like they haven't been updated in decades. Behind the counter, you hear the clatter of baskets being lifted from bubbling oil and the faint hiss of a soda machine dispensing your drink into a cup. You glance at Jordan. He's standing with his arms crossed, eyes flicking over the restaurant, taking in the handful of late-night customers like he's analyzing a play. You wonder if he even realizes he does that—constantly scanning, constantly observing, like he can't ever fully turn it off. @@.player;"You always paying for other people's food, or am I just special?"@@ you ask after a beat. Jordan rolls his eyes. @@.jordan;"Don't push it."@@ You smirk but decide not to press further. A minute later, the worker slides the tray onto the counter with a dull thud. @@.girl;"Double cheeseburger, large fries, a shake, chicken nuggets, and a drink."@@ Jordan grabs the tray without hesitation, barely waiting for you before heading toward the seating area. Jordan picks a booth near a window, away from the entrance, and slides into the sea. You sit across from him, watching as he takes the burger out of its wrapper with practiced ease. You take a nugget and pop it into your mouth before glancing at Jordan. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say, leaning back into your seat, @@.player;"since you're apparently trying to become the next big thing in theater, what plays have you actually watched?"@@ Jordan raises an eyebrow mid-bite, chewing slowly before responding. @@.jordan;"Enough."@@ You scoff. @@.player;"Wow. Incredible answer. So detailed."@@ He rolls his eyes, reaching for his shake. @@.jordan;"I don't know. A lot of the ones I've read in class. //Death of a Salesman//, //A Streetcar Named Desire//, //The Crucible//."@@ He shrugs. @@.jordan;"Stuff like that."@@ You frown. @@.player;"That's all school stuff. What about outside of class?"@@ Jordan is quiet for a second, his fingers tapping against the side of his cup. @@.jordan;"None."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean none?"@@ you ask, blinking. He shrugs. @@.jordan;"Never seen one in person."@@ That throws you off. Jordan, the guy who just spent hours perfecting a monologue, who //cares// about this enough to reach out for help, has never actually seen a play live? @@.player;"You're messing with me,"@@ you say, but Jordan just dips the fry into his shake and takes a bite like this is a completely normal conversation. @@.jordan;"I watch recordings,"@@ he says after a moment. @@.jordan;"Bootlegs. Clips. Whatever I can find."@@ @@.player;"But why?"@@ you have to ask. Jordan doesn't answer right away. He just takes a sip of his shake, then says, @@.jordan;"My parents don't see the point."@@ It's such a //careful// way of saying it, like he's not mad about it—just stating a fact. But the way his fingers tighten slightly around the cup tells you it's more than that. You don't push it. Instead, you shift the topic. @@.player;"Okay, so what have you watched?"@@ Jordan exhales, leaning back slightly. @@.jordan;"A lot. //Hadestown//, //Sweeney Todd//, //Les Mis//, //West Side Story//."@@ He lists them off easily, like it's something he knows by heart. @@.jordan;"I like the ones where everything ties together. Where the music actually //means// something."@@ You stare. @@.player;"You're into musicals?"@@ Jordan narrows his eyes. @@.jordan;"What, you thought I only liked Shakespeare?"@@ @@.player;"I thought you didn't like //anything//,"@@ you shoot back, still caught off guard. @@.player;"But you've seriously watched //Les Mis//?"@@ @@.jordan;"Like ten times,"@@ he says, as if it's not a big deal. You can't help but grin. @@.player;"Okay, //that// is surprising."@@ Jordan shrugs. @@.jordan;"It's good."@@ @@.player;"Just good?"@@ @@.jordan;"Fine, it's great,"@@ he admits. @@.jordan;"Happy?"@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Immensely."@@ Jordan shakes his head, but you catch the tiniest flicker of amusement in his expression before he grabs another fry. It's weird. You never thought you'd be sitting across Jordan of all people, having a conversation about musicals, of all things. But here you are. <<elseif $d14jordanfood is 1>>\ You glance at the menu, scanning the options before settling on something simple. @@.player;"I'll just get a burger and fries,"@@ you say, stepping forward to pull out your phone. Before you can even do anything, Jordan reaches past you and slaps his card onto the counter. @@.jordan;"I got it,"@@ he says, completely casual, like it's not even a thing. You blink. @@.player;"Wait—what?"@@ Jordan doesn't even look at you, just letting the worker process the transaction. The little beep confirming the payment feels almost mocking. You stare at him. @@.player;"Did you just—"@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah."@@ He steps back, crossing his arms as he waits for the food. @@.player;"You //really// didn't have to do that,"@@ you say, frowning. Jordan shrugs, barely reacting. @@.jordan;"I know."@@ @@.player;"Then why—"@@ @@.jordan;"It's just food, dude,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Relax."@@ You squint at him. @@.player;"You're being weird."@@ Jordan finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"Weird how, exactly?"@@ @@.player;"I don't know. You don't do things for people."@@ Jordan scoffs, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"That's dramatic."@@ @@.player;"Is it?"@@ You fold your arms, watching him. @@.player;"You don't even talk to people most of the time. And now you're just—what? Buying me dinner?"@@ Jordan exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. @@.jordan;"Oh my God, $name, it's an eight-dollar meal, not a life debt."@@ @@.player;"Still—"@@ @@.jordan;"Just take the free food before I change my mind."@@ You huff, but drop it. There's no point arguing when he's being this stubborn. The cashier slides a tray toward the counter, loaded with two wrapped burgers, a mountain of fries, and two large drinks. Jordan grabs it without hesitation and turns toward the seating area like this is the most normal thing in the world. You hesitate for half a second before following. The booth he picks is near the window, slightly away from the few other people in the restaurant. The seats are worn down, the fake leather cracked from years of use, but Jordan doesn't seem to care. He slides the tray onto the table, sits down, and immediately unpacks his burger, like there's no need for conversation. You sit across him, watching as he takes a bite. The overhead fluorescent lights cast a dull yellow glow over the table, and the air smells like grease and fryer oil. You pick up a fry, pointing at him. @@.player;"So, you ever gonna admit theater's your favorite class, or are you gonna keep pretending it's just some elective you're stuck in?"@@ Jordan snorts, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"I don't pretend anything."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Right. That's why you're putting in extra hours running monologues instead of, I don't know, studying game footage or treating head injuries or whatever football players do in their free time."@@ Jordan dips a fry into ketchup. @@.jordan;"I can like more than one thing."@@ @@.player;"Sure,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But you //really// like this. More than football."@@ Jordan pauses mid-bite. He doesn't confirm it, but he also doesn't deny it. Instead, he leans back against the booth, staring at the window for a second before finally saying, @@.jordan;"It's different."@@ @@.player;"How so?"@@ He picks up his burger but doesn't take a bite, just holds it like he needs something to fidget with. @@.jordan;"In football, everything's decided before you even step on the field. The play's called, the formations are set, and you already know exactly what you're supposed to do. It's all execution."@@ He exhales, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"But on stage? You //become// something else. Someone else. And for a few minutes, it's like... the rest of the world doesn't exist."@@ His voice shifts as he talks—more animated, more real. He's not trying to sound detached or keep his usual wall up. He's just talking, and for the first time, you can actually hear how much this means to him. @@.jordan;"You know that feeling when you're in a scene and it just clicks?"@@ he continues. @@.jordan;"When you say something, and it's not even you anymore—it's the character? The audience is holding their breath, waiting on you, and you know you've got them?"@@ He shakes his head, exhaling a quiet laugh. @@.jordan;"It's the best damn feeling in the world. It's like—"@@ He cuts himself off. You watch as his expression shifts, like he just caught himself slipping. The passion in his eyes dulls, replaced by something more guarded. He picks up his drink and takes a sip, staring down at the table. @@.jordan;"...It's fun,"@@ he mutters, suddenly distant again. @@.jordan;"That's all."@@ You don't say anything right away. You just watch him, the way his fingers drum idly against the cup, the way his shoulders have tensed just slightly—like he's trying to put the walls back up as fast as he let them fall. But you saw it. For a few seconds, he wasn't Jordan-the-athlete, Jordan-the-quarterback. He was just Jordan. The person. And he cared a lot. You lean back in your seat, tossing another fry into your mouth. @@.player;"You know,"@@ you say casually, @@.player;"for someone who doesn't pretend anything, you sure like pretending you don't care about theater as much as you do."@@ Jordan huffs a laugh but doesn't look up. @@.jordan;"Shut up, $name."@@ @@.player;"I'm not wrong, though."@@ @@.jordan;"Shut up."@@ You smirk, but you let it go. Even if he won't say it out loud, you both know the truth now. <<elseif $d14jordanfood is 2>>\ <<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at the menu, then at Jordan, then back at the menu again. If he's going all out, you might as well match the energy. @@.player;"Yeah, I'll take the Mega Clancy Combo,"@@ you say, pointing at the biggest thing on the board—a double-patty burger stacked with bacon, onion rings, and a 'secret sauce' that's definitely just glorified mayo. It also comes with a mountain of fries and a large drink. Jordan turns his head slightly, giving you a once-over like he's questioning your life choices. @@.jordan;"You //sure// about that?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"What, you think I can't handle it?"@@ He doesn't answer, just shakes his head a little before turning back to the cashier. @@.jordan;"Yeah, okay."@@ The worker, who looks like she's five seconds away from quitting, barely acknowledges the challenge in your tone and just punches in the order with a deadpan expression. @@.girl;"That'll be $19.99,"@@ she mutters. As you reach for your wallet, Jordan beats you to it, sliding his card across the counter before you can even react. You blink. @@.player;"Wait—what are you—?"@@ @@.jordan;"Relax,"@@ Jordan mutters, eyes on the cashier as she processes the transaction before shoving the receipt in his direction. @@.jordan;"It's not a big deal."@@ @@.player;"Not a big deal? You just—"@@ You gesture vaguely at the register, still processing the fact that Jordan, of all people, just paid for your ridiculous, oversized meal without a second thought. Jordan picks up the receipt and crumples it in his fist like it's nothing. @@.jordan;"You gonna stand here and freak out, or are we eating?"@@ You stare at him. Hard. @@.player;"You //just// made fun of me for ordering this much food. And now you're paying for it?"@@ Jordan sighs, clearly regretting all his life choices. @@.jordan;"Oh my God, $name. Just take the free food and move on."@@ Still mildly stunned, your mind runs in circles. Jordan never asks for favors, never reaches out, and //definitely// never does anything unnecessary for other people. So why did he just casually buy your food like it was no big deal? The two of you linger by the counter, waiting as the kitchen slaps together your orders with the kind of lazy efficiency that only late-night fast-food places have. @@.jordan;"Hope you know what you're doing,"@@ Jordan eventually says, crossing his arms. You smirk. @@.player;"What, eating a burger? I've got that down."@@ He huffs out a short breath that might be a laugh, then glances at the empty booths lining the restaurant. @@.jordan;"We're sitting down, right?"@@ @@.player;"Unless you'd rather eat in awkward silence by the soda machine,"@@ you joke. Jordan doesn't bother to respond, just grabbing his tray the second the food is ready and making his way to a booth near the window. You follow, setting down your own tray with a solid thud. The Mega Clancy Combo is... bigger than you expected. The burger alone is nearly the size of your face, the fries are spilling out of the carton, and your drink is big enough that you're pretty sure it could double as a bucket in an emergency. Jordan eyes your tray, unimpressed. @@.jordan;"Good luck with that,"@@ he mutters, unwrapping his own burger. You scoff. @@.player;"I don't need luck. I've got //determination//."@@ Jordan doesn't say anything, opting to just take a bite of his burger while watching you like you're about to regret all your life choices. The first few bites are fine—great, even. Salty, greasy, a perfect mix of crunchy onion rings and melted cheese. The fries are crisp, the soda is ice-cold, and for the first time in a while, you realize just how hungry you actually were. But about halfway through, you start to slow down. The grease is hitting. The sheer ''volume'' of the food is hitting. The drink, which seemed like a good idea at first, is now just a challenge you weren't prepared for. Jordan notices immediately. @@.jordan;"Oh my God,"@@ he mutters, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"You're struggling."@@ @@.player;"I am //not// struggling,"@@ you lie, pushing through another bite even as your stomach starts to protest. Jordan leans back and watches you with clear amusement. @@.jordan;"Uh-huh."@@ You take another bite. Then another. And then you reach a point where your body is actively rejecting the idea of one more bite of burger, like you've hit a physical wall. You set it down with a deep breath, gripping your drink for support. Jordan, who's already finished his meal like it was nothing, raises an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"So, $name. You gonna finish that?"@@ You glare at him. @@.player;"Give me a second."@@ He smirks, clearly entertained by your suffering. @@.jordan;"Should I call for backup? Maybe get Mr. Bennet in here to deliver an inspirational monologue about pushing through adversity?"@@ You groan, leaning back in your seat. @@.player;"I //hate// you."@@ @@.jordan;"Nah,"@@ he says, picking up a fry. @@.jordan;"You just hate losing."@@ You don't respond. You can't, really. Not when you're sitting here, defeated by a burger of all things. Jordan just shakes his head, a rare smirk at the corner of his lips as he finishes the rest of his fries, completely unbothered. @@.jordan;"I told you so."@@ And honestly? You don't even have the energy to argue. <</if>>\ <<button "Finish eating" "Day 14 - Jordan 7">><</button>>

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ @@.player;"So,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That was a big win on Friday."@@ Jordan doesn't react immediately, staring out the window at the empty parking lot. @@.jordan;"Yeah."@@ You wait for him to say more, but he doesn't. @@.player;"You don't sound all that excited,"@@ you point out. Jordan huffs out a small breath, not quite a laugh but something close. @@.jordan;"What do you want me to say?"@@ @@.player;"I don't know, maybe something like, 'Hell yeah, we won, best game of my life!'"@@ You throw up your arms for emphasis. @@.player;"That's what Luke sounded like after the game."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, well, Luke loves this stuff,"@@ Jordan sets his cup down, turning his gaze back to you. @@.jordan;"I don't."@@ You don't have to ask him what he means—you already have a pretty good guess. People say Jordan comes from a football family. His dad, his mom, even his older brother—all-star athletes. You don't actually know the details, just the rumors that get tossed around school. That Jordan was basically //built// for this, that his family had him throwing a football before he could walk, that he had no choice but to be good. You don't know how much of it is true, but looking at him now—the way he's picking absently at the paper wrapper on his tray—you're starting to think there's at least some truth to it. @@.player;"That sucks,"@@ you say honestly. Jordan gives you a flat look. @@.jordan;"Wow. Amazing insight. Really cracking the code here."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"I mean, I //could// be fake and tell you how inspiring it is that you're following in your family's footsteps, but let's be real, you'd just tell me to shut up."@@ He exhales sharply, almost a laugh. Leaning back against the booth, he stretches one arm over the seat, letting his fingers tap idly against the fake leather. @@.jordan;"It's not like I //hate// it,"@@ he mutters. @@.jordan;"I'm good at it. I win games. Whatever."@@ His eyes flicker to the window, watching the dim glow of the streetlights outside. @@.jordan;"It's just... not really mine, you know?"@@ You do know, at least a little. Although you've never been in his exact position, you get what he means. Jordan's a quarterback because that's what he's //supposed// to be. Because people expect it. @@.player;"Then why don't you quit?"@@ you ask. Jordan exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly, like the question isn't even worth considering. @@.jordan;"It's not that simple."@@ You don't press him on it. The conversation dips into a lull. It isn't awkward though, just quiet. You glance at Jordan, who's just staring off into the distance, his mind clearly elsewhere. After a moment, you decide to shift the topic. @@.player;"You know, if we're talking about things people are actually excited about, the cheer team was hyped after the game. I'm pretty sure Jessica was ready to throw a parade for herself."@@ Jordan snorts, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"Yeah, that tracks."@@ @@.player;"You don't watch the routines at all, do you?"@@ you ask, smirking. @@.jordan;"I mean, I see them,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Kinda hard to miss a bunch of people flipping around in front of you before kickoff. But it's not like I'm //watching// them."@@ @@.player;"Wow, rude."@@ Jordan raises an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"Oh, so you care about the cheer team now?"@@ It's a harmless, offhand comment, but it lingers in the air a little too long. If he knew, if he realized— This is your chance. <<button "Tell him you're on the team" "Day 14 - Jordan 8">>\<<set $d14telljordan to true>>\<<trackChoice "D14_tell_jordan_cheer" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide not to tell him the truth" "Day 14 - Jordan 8">>\<<set $d14telljordan to false>>\<<trackChoice "D14_tell_jordan_cheer" false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ Inside Clancy's, it's just you and Jordan, sitting across from each other in a booth that's seen better days. Neither of you speak at first. There's no rush to fill the silence, after all. Eventually, you lean back against the booth. @@.player;"So. Football."@@ Jordan, who had been idly drumming his fingers against the edge of the table, stops. His expression doesn't change much, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes, gone just as quickly as it appeared. @@.jordan;"What about it?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Figured you'd have more to say after Friday."@@ Jordan exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"Not really."@@ @@.player;"You guys played well,"@@ you offer. @@.player;"It was close."@@ Jordan scoffs. @@.jordan;"Close doesn't mean anything."@@ His voice is calm, steady, but there's a sharpness beneath it. @@.jordan;"Nobody remembers //almost// winning."@@ You study him for a moment. His posture is loose, arms crossed, body leaned back like he's relaxed, but his jaw is tight and his gaze flicks toward the window like he'd rather be anywhere else. @@.player;"You pissed about it?"@@ you ask. Jordan doesn't answer right away. He shifts slightly, like the question is heavier than it should be. @@.jordan;"Doesn't matter,"@@ he mutters. @@.player;"That a yes?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. Jordan exhales, running a hand through his hair before finally looking at you. @@.jordan;"Losing's just annoying, that's all,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I don't need to hear about it for the next week."@@ The way he says it—flat, casual—tells you there's more to it. He's not mad about the game. He's mad about what comes //after//. You don't push, but you don't drop it either. @@.player;"Could've been worse,"@@ you say. @@.player;"At least the cheer team showed up."@@ Jordan huffs, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"Barely."@@ You frown. @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ @@.jordan;"You really think that was a //normal// performance?"@@ he asks, giving you a pointed look. You think about Friday. The cheerleaders were there, but something had been off. The energy, the coordination—it wasn't the usual polished, high-energy routine they were known for. Jessica had tried, you could tell, but they had been one person short, and it showed. The formations weren't as sharp, the stunts weren't as clean, and even the usual commanding presence she brought to the field had felt... unsteady. She had held it together in front of the crowd, but you caught a glimpse of her on the sidelines—eyes wet, jaw clenched, her perfectly composed mask slipping for just a moment before she turned away. Most people probably hadn't noticed. But Jordan? Apparently, he had. @@.jordan;"They were off,"@@ he mutters, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"Jessica almost lost it after halftime."@@ @@.player;"You noticed that?"@@ you ask. Jordan shrugs like it's not a big deal. @@.jordan;"Hard not to. She looked like she was about to cry."@@ You frown. @@.player;"She was trying."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, she did,"@@ Jordan says simply, looking away toward the mirror. @@.jordan;"Didn't help."@@ There's no cruelty in his voice, only bluntness. He's not dismissing the effort, just stating the fact that it hadn't been enough. The fact that he picked up on Jessica struggling—hell, the fact that he cared enough to bring it up—means something, even if he won't admit it. @@.player;"So, what?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"You feel bad for her?"@@ Jordan scoffs, leaning back in his seat. @@.jordan;"I'm not heartless, y'know,"@@ he mutters. You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"That's debatable."@@ Jordan shakes his head, but the corner of his mouth twitches slightly, like he's //almost// amused. You glance down at the table, your fingers tapping idly against the surface as the conversation lingers in the air. You wonder in which direction you should take the conversation. <<button "Are you still mad about the game?" "Day 14 - Jordan 8">>\<<set $d14jordanquestion to true>>\<<trackChoice "D14_jordan_dinner_question" true "story">><</button>> <<button "So, do you actually care about cheerleading?" "Day 14 - Jordan 8">>\<<set $d14jordanquestion to false>>\<<trackChoice "D14_jordan_dinner_question" false "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<if $d14telljordan is true>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, actually,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm on the team."@@ <<if $d12jordantruth is true>>\ Jordan barely reacts at first. He just blinks at you, like the words take an extra second to register. Then his eyebrows pull together slightly, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and mild disbelief. @@.jordan;"You're—"@@ He stops, eyes narrowing as he processes it. Then, something clicks. @@.jordan;"Oh. Right. I remember now."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Do you?"@@ Jordan exhales, rubbing the back of his neck like he's trying to piece things together. @@.jordan;"Yeah. After the game. You—"@@ He makes a vague gesture, like that's enough to fill in the details. @@.jordan;"You told me then. I just... forgot."@@ @@.player;"You forgot?"@@ You can't help but laugh a little. @@.player;"Wow, okay. Glad to know my big reveal was //so// memorable."@@ Jordan shakes his head, muttering, @@.jordan;"Shut up,"@@ but there's no heat behind it. He leans back against the booth, arms crossed. @@.jordan;"I don't know. That whole night was a mess. I was pissed about the game, and then you—"@@ He stops again, like he's trying to find the right words. @@.jordan;"It just didn't register."@@ You watch him for a second. He's not deflecting, not avoiding—it really didn't stick in his head, and honestly? That kind of tracks. Jordan was completely in his own head after the game. You probably could've told him you were a Russian spy and gotten the same reaction. Still, you smirk. @@.player;"So, what, it's only clicking now because I brought up cheerleading?"@@ @@.jordan;"Pretty much,"@@ Jordan admits without shame. He tilts his head slightly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel like you're under inspection. @@.jordan;"So you're really into it, huh?"@@ It's not judgmental;. Just curious. Like he's actually trying to figure out why you joined the team. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say simply. @@.player;"I am."@@ Jordan holds your gaze for a second longer, then just nods, accepting it without another word. He doesn't pry, doesn't tease, doesn't even act like it's weird. He just takes it as fact. @@.jordan;"Well,"@@ he says, @@.jordan;"guess that explains why Jessica hasn't shut up about the 'new talent' on the squad."@@ You groan. @@.player;"Oh my God, please don't call me that."@@ Jordan smirks. @@.jordan;"Too late."@@ And like that, the conversation moves on, like it's just another part of who you are. <<else>>\ Jordan pauses. He takes a second to process things before giving you a look—not shocked, exactly, but definitely surprised. @@.jordan;"Wait. You're on the cheer team?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ He stares at you for a second, like he's waiting for you to follow it up with a punchline. When you don't, he exhales, leans back against the booth, and mutters, @@.jordan;"Huh."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Huh?"@@ That's all he has to say? Jordan tilts his head slightly. @@.jordan;"I mean, I didn't expect it, but I guess it makes sense."@@ You blink. @@.player;"It does?"@@ It's his turn to shrug now. @@.jordan;"You were on the field on Friday, right?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah."@@ @@.jordan;"And I didn't notice."@@ You frown. @@.player;"Wow, okay. Rude."@@ Jordan smirks slightly, unbothered. @@.jordan;"It's really not my fault you blend in."@@ @@.player;"You're literally throwing a ball right in front of us during the routines."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, and I'm looking at the ball."@@ You scoff and shake your head while Jordan acts like this entire conversation is the most normal thing in the world. After a moment, he asks, @@.jordan;"So, why'd you join? Did you always want to do it or...?"@@ @@.player;"Nah,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"Jessica recruited me after Mandy moved to Iowa. They needed another person, and she figured I'd work."@@ Jordan nods like that explanation is perfectly reasonable. @@.jordan;"Yeah, that sounds like Jessica."@@ He doesn't question it. Doesn't make a joke. Doesn't look at you like you're some kind of anomaly. You study him for a second. @@.player;"You're really not gonna say anything else?"@@ @@.jordan;"Like what?"@@ he asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"I don't know, something about how I'm a guy on the girl's team? Or how it's weird or whatever?"@@ Jordan gives you a dry look. @@.jordan;"$name, you're talking to a guy who has to sit through half-time speeches about how football is 'the last great battle of modern men' while Coach screams about dominance and territory. You think cheerleading is what's gonna throw me?"@@ ...Okay. You had to admit that was kind of a solid point. He adds, @@.jordan;"Besides, I don't really care what people do. You're on the team. Cool. Hope you don't drop anyone."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Gee, thanks for the support."@@ @@.jordan;"Anytime."@@ And just like that, the conversation moves on, the reveal slipping into the past as easily as it was brought up. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You shrug. @@.player;"Something like that."@@ Jordan raises an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"What does that mean?"@@ @@.player;"Just that I've been paying more attention than you have,"@@ you say, smirking slightly. Jordan huffs and leans back against the booth. @@.jordan;"That's not a high bar."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Yeah, no kidding. You'd think the guy throwing the ball would at least //pretend// to care about the people hyping up the crowd."@@ Jordan gives you a flat look. @@.jordan;"I've got more important things to focus on."@@ @@.player;"Uh-huh. Like standing there looking broody between plays?"@@ Jordan doesn't dignify that with a response. There's a flicker of something in his expression—maybe mild curiosity, maybe nothing—but he doesn't push the topic any further. The conversation lingers for a second longer before fading into something more comfortable. The two of you sitting in a nearly empty fast-food joint, trays cleared, nothing urgent to rush off to. @@.jordan;"We should head out soon,"@@ Jordan says. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you agree, stretching your arms out with a sigh. @@.player;"Good call."@@ And just like that, the conversation drifts to an end. Whatever Jordan thinks about your vague answer, he doesn't press for more. And you don't offer it either. Not yet. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d14jordanquestion is true>>\ @@.player;"So, are you still mad about the game?"@@ you ask gently, probing for information. Jordan doesn't answer right away. He leans back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze shifting toward the window. The neon lights cast a dull reflection against the glass, warping hsi expression just enough that you can't quite read him. For a second, you think he's going to shut you down completely. That he's going to roll his eyes, scoff, and tell you to drop it. But then, with a quiet exhale, he mutters, @@.jordan;"It's not the game that pisses me off."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Then what is?"@@ @@.jordan;"The aftermath,"@@ Jordan says, his jaw tightening. It takes a second for the meaning to settle, but when it does, it clicks into place a little too easily. You don't know much about Jordan's family—just bits and pieces from things other people have said. His family is full of athletes, the kind of people who treat sports as more than just a game. They expect wins. They expect perfection. And when they don't get it.. You suddenly have a pretty good idea of what kind of 'aftermath' Jordan is talking about. @@.player;"I mean, it's just one loss,"@@ you say cautiously. @@.player;"Is that really that big of a deal?"@@ Jordan exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"To me? No. To them?"@@ He lets out a quiet, humorless scoff. @@.jordan;"''Everything'' is a big deal."@@ He doesn't elaborate, but he doesn't have to. You can hear the edge in his voice, the way it flattens a little too much—like he's trying not to sound bitter, trying not to sound like it gets to him. But it does. You don't press him on it. You don't ask for specifics, don't make him spell it out for you. If he wanted to, he would. But the way his fingers drum lightly against the table, the way his shoulders are just a little too tense even now, even two days after the game? That tells you enough. After a long moment, he finally glances at you. @@.jordan;"Not like it matters,"@@ he says, voice quiet but firm. @@.jordan;"Next game's Friday. We win, they shut up."@@ @@.player;"And if you lose?"@@ Jordan's fingers stop tapping and his jaw clenches slightly. @@.jordan;"Then I deal with it."@@ It's so simple the way he says it. Like it's just fact. Like it's normal. It makes you wonder how many times he's had to 'deal with it' before. Not wanting to push him, you let the conversation drift, fading into the soft hum of the nearly empty restaurant. <<else>>\ @@.player;"So, do you actually care about cheerleading?"@@ you ask. Jordan exhales through his nose, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"Not really."@@ @@.player;"Uh-huh,"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"Sure."@@ He shoots you a flat look. @@.jordan;"I don't."@@ @@.player;"You //just// pointed out how they were off on Friday,"@@ you remind him. @@.player;"And you noticed Jessica nearly crying. That's got to be some level of caring."@@ Jordan leans back in his seat, gaze flicking toward the window, watching the occasional headlights pass by. For a second, you think he's not going to answer. Then, finally, he shrugs. @@.jordan;"I don't usually pay attention. When they're doing their job, it's just noise."@@ You huff out a short laugh. @@.player;"Bet Jessica would //love// to hear that."@@ Jordan ignores the jab. @@.jordan;"But when they're //not// doing it right? It's impossible not to notice. The crowd was off. The energy was off. And yeah, Jessica was off too."@@ You frown slightly. @@.player;"She did her best."@@ Jordan doesn't argue, instead nodding like he already knows that. @@.jordan;"I've never seen her like that before,"@@ he admits. @@.jordan;"I mean, I've seen her pissed, I've seen her focused—but this was different."@@ You think back to Friday. Jessica had been holding it together, but the second the halftime routine ended, you'd seen her expression crack, just for a moment. The frustration, the disappointment in herself. And Jordan, somehow, had picked up on it too. @@.jordan;"You ever think about how much she actually cares about that stuff?"@@ Jordan asks suddenly. You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.jordan;"Jessica. Cheerleading. The whole thing. She's not just //doing// it, she's //in// it. Like all the way. Losing a game means nothing to me, but a bad routine? That wrecked her."@@ It's a rare thing, hearing Jordan talk like this—actually noticing someone. And it's true, Jessica isn't just passionate about cheerleading; it's everything to her. The routines, the performances, the way the team carries itself. It's not just a hobby, not just an extracurricular, it's who she is. Jordan shrugs, glancing back down at the table. @@.jordan;"Guess I just didn't expect that."@@ There's a pause, a beat of silence between you. Then you smirk. @@.player;"You sure you don't care about cheerleading?"@@ Jordan rolls his eyes, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"Not like that."@@ You chuckle, letting it go. But something about the way he said it lingers—like maybe, just maybe, Jordan notices more than he lets on. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "The end of a hangout" "Day 14 - Jordan 9">><</button>>

The door jingles behind you as you step out into the cool night air, the warm smell of fryer grease fading into the crisp breeze rolling through the empty streets. The sidewalks are mostly deserted at this hour, save for the occasional passing car in the distance, its headlights sweeping over the pavement. You and Jordan walk in silence for a moment, the quiet stretching between you—not awkward, but not entirely comfortable either. It's the kind of silence that lingers after a conversation that went a little deeper than expected, when neither person really knows what to say next. Jordan adjusts the strap of his bag, his eyes fixed ahead. He's not walking fast, not like he's in a hurry to leave, but he maintains that same sense of distance in the way he moves. Like even when he's standing next to you, he's still keeping a piece of himself somewhere else. @@.player;"You heading home?"@@ you ask eventually. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says simply. You nod. @@.player;"Same."@@ Another pause. The streetlights flicker slightly as you both walk beneath them. You wonder, for a second, if this whole night is just going to disappear into nothing. If Jordan's just going to pretend this never happened once you both go back to school tomorrow. But then, as you reach the intersection where you'll have to split off, Jordan slows to a stop. He shifts his weight, glancing at you briefly before looking down at his own street. @@.jordan;"...Thanks for coming,"@@ he says, like the words are foreign in his mouth, like he doesn't quite know how to say them properly. @@.jordan;"For the lines. And, uh... this, I guess."@@ You blink, surprised. Jordan doesn't //thank// people. At least, not that you've ever seen. @@.player;"You sound like you're being held at gunpoint,"@@ you say, chuckling. Jordan exhales sharply. @@.jordan;"Forget it."@@ He turns, ready to walk off, but you catch the faintest hint of something—not annoyance, not irritation, but maybe a little embarrassment. Like he's not used to this. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you call after him. He glances back, waiting. You pause for a second, debating if you should say something meaningful, something reflective. But in the end, you just nod. @@.player;"See you in class."@@ And with that, he turns and walks away, disappearing into the dim glow of the streetlights. You watch him go for a moment before heading off in your own direction, the quiet of the night settling around you. Maybe this was just a random night, just a favor he needed, nothing more. But somehow, it doesn't //feel// like nothing. <<button "Finish up" "Day 14 - 3">><</button>>

<<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "D14Jordan">>\ The city theater isn't the kind of place you'd expect to find Jordan on a Sunday. The courts? Sure. The gym? Obviously. But a dimly lit, slightly run-down stage tucked away in the heart of Crestview Bay's downtown? That's new. You stand outside the entrance, staring at the old marquee with peeling letters advertising an upcoming play you've never even heard of. The theater itself isn't big—just a small, community-run venue that most people don't think about unless they have a reason to be there. You hesitate for a second before pushing the door open. Inside, the lobby is quiet, the faint smell of sawdust and old costumes lingering in the air. The hum of distant voices filters through the empty space, and when you step into the auditorium, you spot Jordan immediately—standing alone on the stage, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights. He doesn't notice you at first. His posture is looser than usual, more relaxed than the stiff, controlled way he carries himself at school. He's staring out into the empty seats, murmuring lines under his breath, his lips forming words you can't quite hear. For a moment, you hesitate. This isn't the Jordan you're used to. This isn't the cool, untouchable athlete everyone sees at school. This is something else entirely. Then he spots you. His whole body tenses for half a second before he lets out a sharp breath, shaking off whatever thoughts had been lingering in his head. @@.jordan;"You actually came,"@@ he says, stepping to the edge of the stage. @@.jordan;"Figured you'd ignore my text."@@ You cross your arms. @@.player;"Figured you wouldn't even have my contact."@@ Jordan huffs out something that isn't quite a laugh. @@.jordan;"Yeah, well. I needed someone."@@ He jumps down from the stage, landing effortlessly before walking past you toward the side door that leads backstage. With no other choice, you follow. Backstage is cluttered—racks of old costumes, shelves stacked with dusty props, and the faint sound of a recording playing from one of the dressing rooms. Jordan moves through it like he belongs here, like it's second nature. When he stops near a worn-out couch shoved against the wall, he turns to face you, arms crossed. @@.jordan;"I need you to run lines with me."@@ You blink. @@.player;"That's it?"@@ Jordan exhales sharply like he already regrets asking. @@.jordan;"Yeah. That's it."@@ @@.player;"And //I'm// the first person you thought of?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. <<if $jordanRelo > 9>>\ Jordan holds your gaze for a second too long before looking away. @@.jordan;"You're in theater. You know what you're doing."@@ His voice is steady, but there's something unspoken beneath it, something he's not quite saying. @@.jordan;"Besides, I figured you wouldn't make this annoying."@@ <<else>>\ Jordan holds your gaze for a second too long before looking away. @@.jordan;"You're in theater. You know what you're doing."@@ His tone is flat like he's keeping this strictly business. @@.jordan;"Besides, I didn't feel like dealing with anyone else."@@ <</if>>\ Jordan doesn't ask people for things. He doesn't go out of his way to talk to anyone unless he has to. But he's here right now, backstage with you, waiting for an answer. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"So we just—run lines? No catch?"@@ @@.jordan;"No catch,"@@ Jordan replies, but there's a tightness in his jaw, like he's holding something back. @@.jordan;"I just need to be ready."@@ @@.player;"Ready for what?"@@ Jordan's expression doesn't change. @@.jordan;"Does it matter?"@@ You hesitate, watching him carefully. Jordan's always been distant with you like he's keeping you at arm's length no matter how often you cross paths. But now, for the first time, he's letting you in—just a little. Not enough to see everything, but enough to know there's something more going on. @@.jordan;"So?"@@ he asks, the edge creeping back into his voice like he's already bracing for you to say no. @@.jordan;"Are you gonna help or not?"@@ <<button "Yeah, I'll help" "Day 14 - Jordan 1">>\<<set $d14jordanchoice0 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D14_jordan_choice_0" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Not until you tell me what this is really about" "Day 14 - Jordan 1">>\<<set $d14jordanchoice0 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D14_jordan_choice_0" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Can't you ask someone else?" "Day 14 - Jordan 1">>\<<set $d14jordanchoice0 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D14_jordan_choice_0" 2 "story">><</button>>

Luke leads the way through Crestview Bay's town center, moving with his usual easy confidence, but there's something a little more relaxed about him today. The two of you weave past the Sunday afternoon crowd—families pushing strollers, couples lingering outside café windows, street musicians playing for spare change. The salty breeze from the bay mixes with the scent of warm bread from the bakery and fresh coffee from the open-air cafés. @@.luke;"Hey,"@@ Luke says, nodding toward a small setup near the corner of the square. @@.luke;"That's new."@@ You follow his gaze and spot a temporary flower stand tucked beneath a pastel canopy. It's simple but inviting, a wooden table covered in fresh-cut flowers arranged in clusters—soft pink peonies, delicate sprigs of lavender, cheerful sunflowers standing tall in mason jars. A small sign, carefully written in looping handwriting, leans against the table. ''"Fresh Flowers, Fresh Smiles. Take some beauty with you."'' Behind the table, a woman sits wrapping a bouquet in brown paper. She looks to be in her early thirties, with long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders and a quiet grace about her. She has the kind of presence that makes you slow down, like she belongs here even though the flower stand is temporary. There's something warm and steady in the way she moves, like she's savoring each small action—tying twine around a bouquet, brushing stray petals off the table, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. At her feet, resting beside a basket of smaller floral arrangements, is a dog—a very, very good dog. A massive, fluffy white Samoyed lounges on the ground like a cloud that decided to take a break from floating. A green plush toy is clutched gently in her mouth, and her dark eyes scan the passing people with a quiet curiosity. It's almost like she's the true owner of this flower stand, carefully assessing potential customers. The afternoon sun catches her thick fur, making her practically glow. Luke stops mid-step. @@.luke;"Oh my God,"@@ he breathes, his entire focus shifting instantly. @@.luke;"Do you //see// this dog?"@@ You barely have time to respond before Luke is already stepping closer, his expression somewhere between awe and unfiltered joy. @@.luke;"Look at her! She's perfect. She's majestic. This is the best dog I've ever seen. This is—this is ''art''."@@ The dog doesn't move, but her tail gives a single slow wag. Luke clasps his hands together like he's witnessing something sacred. @@.luke;"I need to pet her. I have to pet her."@@ The woman behind the stand glances up, amused. @@.girl;"She does take bribes,"@@ she says lightly, nodding toward the basket of flowers. Luke gasps. @@.luke;"I will buy flowers if that's what it takes."@@ Luke turns to you with the wide-eyed intensity of someone who has just discovered their life's purpose. @@.luke;"$name. We are buying flowers."@@ You cross your arms. @@.player;"Didn't you say flowers were a frivolous purchase and that you've never bought them before?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, well, people change,"@@ Luke says, already reaching for his wallet. @@.luke;"I'm a flower guy now."@@ The woman behind the stand laughs softly, finishing the bouquet she was wrapping and setting it aside. Now that you're closer, you can see the warmth in her expression—the quiet kind, the kind that makes you feel welcome even though you've only just met. There's something grounded about her, like she's settled into herself in a way most people never quite manage. @@.girl;"Her name's Luna,"@@ she says, nodding toward the dog. @@.girl;"And I'm Marky. She's the real reason people stop, but I pretend it's for the flowers."@@ @@.luke;"Luna,"@@ Luke repeats like it's the most beautiful name he's ever heard. He crouches slightly, holding out a hand. @@.luke;"Luna, my beloved, my light, my queen—may I give you the scritches you deserve?"@@ Luna, still holding her toy, tilts her head slightly, assessing him. Then, after a long, considering pause, she shifts forward just enough to bump her nose against his knuckles. Luke lets out an audible gasp, eyes shining. @@.luke;"She has blessed me."@@ Marky shakes her head, amused. @@.girl;"She has accepted you. That's different. Full blessing requires more treats."@@ Luke nods solemnly. @@.luke;"Understandable. She's a businesswoman. Gotta keep the economy running."@@ He scratches behind Luna's ears, looking absolutely thrilled about it. You watch with a smirk. @@.player;"You're having a religious experience over there."@@ @@.luke;"Don't judge me,"@@ Luke says without looking up. @@.luke;"You wish you were having this moment."@@ Luna lets out a soft huff, still holding onto her toy, like she knows exactly how much power she holds right now. After a moment, Marky shifts slightly behind the stand, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. @@.girl;"So,"@@ she says, turning to you both, @@.girl;"if I'm understanding correctly, I'm about to make a sale purely because you wanted to pet my dog?"@@ @@.luke;"Correct,"@@ Luke says immediately. @@.luke;"It's called mutually beneficial transactions."@@ Marky laughs, but there's something knowing in her expression. @@.girl;"Well, now that you're here, you might as well pick something you like."@@ Luke finally, //finally// stands up, reluctantly tearing himself away from Luna as he surveys the flowers. His gaze moves over the display, thoughtful in a way you don't usually see from him. There's something about the flower stand itself that invites stillness. Maybe it's the care in the way the bouquets are wrapped, or the way the petals catch the afternoon sunlight, or maybe it's just Marky's presence—calm and steady like someone who's made peace with the little things in life. You look over at the flowers as well. They're all fresh and carefully arranged, each bouquet seeming to have a distinct feeling attached to it. Marky rests her hands lightly on the wooden counter. @@.girl;"Are you buying for someone or for yourself?"@@ Luke hesitates. @@.luke;"Haven't decided yet."@@ @@.girl;"Then pick something that makes //you// feel good,"@@ she says simply. Luke hums, still scanning the selection. @@.luke;"Alright. What do you recommend?"@@ Marky studied him for a second before reaching for a bouquet of sunflowers. She lifts them gently, turning them slightly so the golden petals catch the light. @@.girl;"Sunflowers,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"They turn toward the sun no matter what. They remind people to keep looking for the light, even on the hard days."@@ Luke blinks, caught off guard by the answer. @@.luke;"...Huh."@@ You glance at him. He looks at the sunflowers like he's seeing them for the first time again, like the meaning behind them actually sinks in a little. He rubs the back of his neck. @@.luke;"That's pretty cool, actually."@@ Marky just smiles. @@.girl;"They suit you."@@ She turns to you next. @@.girl;"And you?"@@ You weren't planning on buying anything, but something about the moment makes you hesitate. The flowers are beautiful, sure—but it's more than that. It's the atmosphere, the simplicity of it all. It feels like something you might not get the chance to do again, and for some reason, that makes it feel more important. Marky doesn't push. She just waits patiently. <<if $money > 9>>\ <<button "Buy a bouquet" "Day 14 - Luke 2">>\<<set $d14lukechoice0 to 0>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $money > 4>>\ <<button "Buy a few flowers" "Day 14 - Luke 2">>\<<set $d14lukechoice0 to 1>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Buy nothing" "Day 14 - Luke 2">>\<<set $d14lukechoice0 to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $d14lukechoice0 is 0>>\ <<set $money -= 10>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for a moment, your gaze drifting over the array of flowers, their colors vivid against the soft brown wrapping paper and woven baskets. There's something about this place that makes the moment feel like it //means// something. @@.player;"...Alright,"@@ you say, exhaling slightly. @@.player;"I'll take a full bouquet."@@ Marky's lips curve into a gentle smile, like she already knew you'd say that. @@.girl;"Good choice,"@@ she murmurs, turning toward the flowers. Her fingers move carefully as she selects them, not just picking at random, but deliberately choosing each stem. She pucks soft, delicate lilacs, rich in color and full in bloom, then carefully adds sprigs of baby's breath, their tiny white blossoms filling in space. A few lavender stalks come next before she finally tucks in a single white camellia—pristine, elegant, and striking. She wraps them in brown paper, tying them off with a simple but sturdy twine bow before handing them to you. @@.girl;"Here,"@@ she says, her voice light. @@.girl;"You picked well."@@ Before you can even think of something to say back, there's a sudden shift at your side—Luna, previously resting calmly, gets up and steps forward, sniffing the bouquet in your hands before tilting her head up to look at you directly. Then, without hesitation, she nudges your leg and flops onto her back, big paws in the air, belly completely exposed. Luke stares. @@.luke;"No way."@@ Marky raises an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. @@.girl;"Huh. That's new."@@ @@.luke;"She wants belly rubs?"@@ Luke asks, eyes wide. @@.luke;"This dog doesn't just hand out belly rubs, right?"@@ Marky shakes her head in amusement. @@.girl;"Not usually, no. She's... selective."@@ Luke claps you on the back, grinning. @@.luke;"Dude. You unlocked her."@@ You can't help but laugh as you crouch down, setting your bouquet carefully on the edge of the stand before reaching out and running a hand through the thick, impossibly soft fur of Luna's belly. She lets out a content //huff//, wiggling slightly as if she's making herself even more comfortable. Luke, not wanting to be left out on this experience, immediately drops down next to you. @@.luke;"Alright, scoot over. I need in on this."@@ Luna obliges, stretching out like she's melting into the pavement, completely and utterly content with the attention she's receiving. Marky watches with quiet amusement, arms folded loosely over her chest. @@.girl;"Well,"@@ she says, @@.girl;"I guess you've been fully blessed now."@@ You grin, running a hand down Luna's side. @@.player;"Feels like it."@@ Luke, still ruffling Luna's fur, looks up at Marky. @@.luke;"Does this mean we get flower stand VIP status?"@@ Marky smirks. @@.girl;"It means if you buy flowers next time, she might remember you."@@ Luke nods solemnly. @@.luke;"Challenge accepted."@@ You don't know how long the three of you stay like that, laughing and petting Luna as she soaks up every bit of affection. The afternoon hums around you—people passing by, the scent of flowers drifting in the air, the warmth of the moment settling into your chest like something you want to hold onto. When you finally stand, brushing stray fur from your clothes and picking up your bouquet, Marky gives you a nod, her expression something softer than just polite kindness. @@.girl;"Take care of those flowers,"@@ she says. You know she means more than just the bouquet. You nod back. @@.player;"I will."@@ <<elseif $d14lukechoice0 is 1>>\ <<set $money -= 5>>\ You glance over the flowers again, the vibrant colors mixing in a soft blur. You weren't planning on buying anything, but something about the moment makes you reconsider. @@.player;"...Maybe just a few,"@@ you finally say. @@.player;"I don't need a whole bouquet, but I like the idea of taking something with me."@@ Marky nods as if she expected that answer. She reaches toward the display, her fingers hovering over different flowers before settling on one in particular. She plucks a few delicate, pale-pink blossoms and holds them out to you, their petals soft as silk. @@.girl;"These symbolize transformation,"@@ she says, offering them gently. @@.girl;"Growth. Stepping into something new, even if you don't know where it'll lead."@@ Your fingers tighten slightly as you take them from her, a strange feeling settling in your chest. She doesn't know about the $referto—could she?—but somehow, the flowers feel too fitting. Like they were picked for you before you even asked. You swallow. @@.player;"That's a nice meaning."@@ Marky tilts her head, watching you in that way certain people do. @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ she says simply. @@.girl;"I thought you'd like them."@@ Luna, who had been calmly watching the transaction, lets out a soft huff and shifts slightly on her paws. Without thinking, you reach out, hesitating just slightly before brushing your fingers over the top of her head. She's warm, her fur soft under your touch, but after a few seconds, she pulls back just enough to reclaim her space—not rejecting you, just making it clear that you got a little affection, but no more than you paid for. You snort. @@.player;"She's got rules, huh?"@@ Marky chuckles. @@.girl;"She believes in fairness. Full bouquet? Full pets. A few flowers? A few pats."@@ Luke shakes his head in awe. @@.luke;"This is an entrepreneurial dog right here."@@ Luna wags her tail once, as if in agreement. Marky finishes wrapping the stems in a small piece of brown paper, tying it with a simple string before handing them back to you. @@.girl;"Take care of them,"@@ she says. Something about the way she says it makes the world feel bigger than just flowers. You nod, tucking them carefully into the crook of your arm. @@.player;"I will."@@ Luke, now proudly holding his sunflowers, stretches dramatically. @@.luke;"Alright. We've got our flowers. We've had our life-changing encounter with Luna. What's next?"@@ Marky just smiles, giving a small wave. @@.girl;"Whatever's next, don't forget to look for the light."@@ And with that, you and Luke step away from the flower stand, the scent of fresh petals lingering in the air, the soft weight of something unexpectedly meaningful resting in your hands. <<elseif $d14lukechoice0 is 2>>\ You glance over the flowers, taking in the colors, the way the petals curl slightly at the edges, the careful way each bouquet is wrapped. They're beautiful, and Marky clearly puts a lot of care into them. But... you weren't really planning on buying anything today. It's not like you //need// flowers, and as much as Luke is ready to throw his entire wallet at this stand just to stay in Luna's good graces, you're not feeling the same pull. You shift slightly, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"I think I'll pass this time,"@@ you say, offering a small smile. Marky nods easily, unfazed. @@.girl;"No worries. Flowers aren't something you should buy unless you want to."@@ But the moment the words leave your mouth, you feel a distinct shift in the air. A presence. A weight. Slowly, you glance down. Luna is staring at you. Her dark eyes, once full of gentle curiosity, have turned into something far more piercing. There is no aggression, no outright disappointment—just a silent, unimpressed judgment. You blink. She //huffs//. Then, with great, deliberate effort, Luna shifts her body just enough to turn away from you, placing her chin on her paws with a quiet hmph. Luke, who was mid-payment for his bouquet, nearly chokes trying to stifle a laugh. @@.luke;"Dude,"@@ he wheezes, barely keeping it together. @@.luke;"She's mad at you."@@ @@.player;"I—"@@ You look at Marky for backup, but she just shrugs, amused. @@.girl;"She takes business very seriously,"@@ she says lightly. @@.girl;"And you've contributed ''nothing'' to the economy."@@ Luke is fully grinning now, clutching his sunflower bouquet like it's the best purchase he's ever made. @@.luke;"You're dead to her, man. Absolutely dead."@@ You look at Luna again. She does not look at you. You crouch slightly, trying to get her attention. @@.player;"Luna?"@@ Nothing. @@.player;"Best dog? Sweetest girl?"@@ Luna pointedly does ''not'' move. Luke is beside himself. @@.luke;"This is the funniest thing that's ever happened to me."@@ You sigh, standing back up. @@.player;"Well, I guess I've made an enemy today."@@ @@.luke;"More like you've been erased from existence,@@ Luke corrects, wiping at his eyes. @@.luke;"She's rewritten history to forget you were ever here."@@ Marky chuckles, adjusting a ribbon on one of her bouquets. @@.girl;"She'll get over it,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Probably."@@ @@.player;"Probably?!"@@ you say. Marky just smiles, clearly enjoying this more than she's letting on. Luke slaps a hand on your shoulder as he tucks his sunflowers under his arm. @@.luke;"Well, $name, it's been a pleasure knowing you."@@ You shake your head, accepting your fate. @@.player;"Guess I'll see you in another life, Luna."@@ The dog remains unmoved. With one last laugh from Luke and a small, knowing wave from Marky, the two of you walk away from the stand, leaving behind the gentle scent of flowers and the crushing weight of Luna's disappointment. <</if>>\ <<button "Walk away" "Day 14 - Luke 3">><</button>>

With the warmth of the flower stand still lingering between you, you and Luke start walking. The town square gradually fades behind you as you take on of the quieter streets, the noise of passing cars and chattering weekend crowds giving way to the rustling of trees and distant calls of seagulls from the bay. Luke stretches his arms behind his head as you both start up the gentle incline toward one of the best views in town. @@.luke;"Man,"@@ he says, exhaling contentedly. @@.luke;"I think that was the greatest fifteen minutes of my whole life."@@ @@.player;"Really?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.luke;"Yes,"@@ he says, completely serious. @@.luke;"Dog of the Year and flower wisdom—that's a once-in-a-lifetime experience, $name."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Well, you //did// buy flowers. Maybe you should start a new hobby."@@ Luke snorts. @@.luke;"Right. Because what I need right now is another expensive hobby on top of football and gaming. What am I gonna do, start hand-delivering bouquets after every game?"@@ He grins, nudging you with his elbow. @@.luke;"Actually, that'd be kinda cool. Like—boom, victory flowers. Instant romantic points."@@ @@.player;"What the hell are you saying?"@@ @@.luke;"You wouldn't get it,"@@ Luke declares, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. The two of you continue up the hill, the incline steep enough to feel but not enough to actually slow you down. The buildings of Crestview Bay stretch out below, their rooftops bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. The sky is shifting now—deepening from soft pastels to richer shades of amber and pink, streaks of violet beginning to thread through the clouds. Luke kicks a stray pebble as you walk. @@.luke;"Man, I love this spot. Just high enough to see everything, but not too much effort to get up here."@@ You nod. The hill has always been a favorite place—one of those quiet spaces where things feel clearer just by being above everything for a while. Luke glances at you. @@.luke;"Alright,"@@ he says, tilting his head. @@.luke;"You get to pick. What're we talking about on the way up?"@@ <<button "The game on Friday" "Day 14 - Luke 4">>\<<set $d14lukechoice1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D14_luke_convo" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "The flower stand" "Day 14 - Luke 4">>\<<set $d14lukechoice1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D14_luke_convo" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Life and the future" "Day 14 - Luke 4">>\<<set $d14lukechoice1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D14_luke_convo" 2 "story">><</button>>

<<if $d14lukechoice1 is 0>>\ <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<if $d12tellbff is true>>\ You and Luke continue your slow climb up the hill, the town stretching out below you in the fading light. The rooftops glow and the bay shimmers, reflecting the warm hues of the sky. The air is crisp but not cold, carrying the scent of grass and saltwater. @@.player;"Alright, let's get this out of the way,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You still thinking about the game?"@@ Luke lets out a dramatic groan, tilting his head back like the mere mention of it is exhausting. @@.luke;"I am trying to move on."@@ @@.player;"You're ''not'' moving on,"@@ you point out. @@.player;"I saw you running plays in your head at the flower stand."@@ Luke scoffs but doesn't deny it. @@.luke;"Okay, maybe. But only a little."@@ He exhales and shakes his head. @@.luke;"Man, I swear, that game took, like, ten years off my life."@@ He's not wrong. It had been one of those games that went down to the wire. The Panthers had pulled through, but it hadn't been easy. @@.player;"I mean, you //did// win,"@@ you remind him. @@.luke;"Yeah, but barely,"@@ Luke responds. @@.luke;"I knew Riverview was gonna play dirty, but damn. I still have a bruise from that hit in the third quarter. And don't even get me started on their linebackers. Our defense let them score in the last minute too. If our offense hadn't—"@@ @@.player;"If,"@@ you interrupt, smirking. @@.player;"But they did."@@ Luke lets out a dramatic sigh, but there's pride in it, too. @@.luke;"Yeah, say what you want about Jordan, but the guy can throw a pass. The way I caught it too..."@@ He nods, as if approving of himself. @@.luke;"It was a miracle."@@ @@.player;"You guys deserved it,"@@ you say, watching him. @@.player;"Even if it nearly gave Pacific Crest a heart attack."@@ @@.luke;"That part was kind of fun,"@@ Luke laughs. @@.luke;"The stadium was ''loud''."@@ @@.player;"We did do a good job."@@ @@.luke;"We?"@@ Luke asks, halting in his tracks. @@.luke;"Oh, you mean the cheer squad?"@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Yes, genius."@@ Luke smirks and nudges your shoulder. @@.luke;"You know I'm not used to seeing you out there yet. I kept looking over and being like, 'Hey, that girl looks kinda like $name.'"@@ You scoff. @@.player;"It's not that weird."@@ @@.luke;"It's kinda weird,"@@ Luke teases. @@.luke;"But, like... in a good way."@@ He pauses, then shrugs. @@.luke;"You looked like you belonged there."@@ The words sit warm in your chest, a quiet reassurance. By now, you've reached the top of the hill, the town laid out beneath you in a sprawling view of rooftops, winding streets, and distant lights. The sky has started to shift into deeper shades of orange and pink, the last sliver of the sun disappearing. Luke lets out a slow breath, planting his feet at the top and looking over the town. @@.luke;"Damn,"@@ he says, stretching his arms far above his head. @@.luke;"You ever just look at this place and realize how small everything is from up here?"@@ You take in the view. @@.player;"It really puts things in perspective."@@ Luke hums in agreement, watching the horizon. @@.luke;"Guess that means I should probably stop overthinking the game, huh?"@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Maybe just a little."@@ <<else>>\ You and Luke keep climbing, the slope getting a little steeper beneath your feet. The sun is inching lower in the sky, casting a glow over the city. The air is crisp and fresh—one of those perfect autumn days. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say, breaking the comfortable quiet between you. @@.player;"Let's get this out of the way. You still thinking about the game?"@@ Luke lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. @@.luke;"You mean //the// game? The miracle victory of the Pacific Crest Panthers?"@@ He spreads his arms dramatically as if reenacting the final play right then and there. You snort. @@.player;"Yeah, that's the one."@@ Luke grins, dropping his arms. @@.luke;"I mean—I've definitely been replaying it in my head. Just appreciating the moment, you know?"@@ You nod, listening. @@.luke;"It's weird,"@@ he continues. @@.luke;"We've won before, sure, but this one felt different. Everyone was locked in and even the crowd was electric. I swear, I've never heard them that loud before."@@ You resist the urge to cough. //Yeah. I wonder why.// Luke keeps going, kicking at a loose rock as he walks. @@.luke;"It wasn't just us, either. The cheer team was killing it, too. Like, I normally don't even notice, but every time I looked over, they were doing some crazy routine."@@ Oh no. @@.luke;"I mean, you saw, right?"@@ Luke glances at you. @@.luke;"You were at the game, weren't you."@@ Your brain latches onto the easiest response. @@.player;"Uh, yeah."@@ Luke frowns slightly, not convinced. @@.luke;"Then where were you? Sam and I looked around for you, but we didn't see you anywhere."@@ @@.player;"You know, I was around."@@ Luke gives you a rather flat look. @@.luke;"Around?"@@ You wave a hand vaguely. @@.player;"Yeah. Just, like, moving around. You know how it is."@@ Luke squints, clearly trying to figure out if that makes sense. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, running through every place you could've been. @@.luke;"You weren't sitting with Samantha."@@ @@.player;"Nope,"@@ you say, a little too quickly. @@.luke;"You weren't in the front row."@@ @@.player;"Nah."@@ @@.luke;"Or anywhere in the stands, as far as we could tell."@@ He tilts his head slightly, eyeing you with suspicion. @@.luke;"Seriously, dude—where were you?"@@ You cough. @@.player;"Hey, look, we're almost at the top."@@ Luke looks at you for half a second longer, but then turns around, exhaling through his nose. @@.luke;"Alright, alright, I'll let it go. For now."@@ Crisis averted. Just as the conversation settles, the two of you reach the crest of the hill. The town spreads out below, rooftops bathed in the golden light of the sun. The streets look smaller from up here, winding through the heart of Crestview Bay. You see cafés, bookstores, and the waterfront where the ocean shimmers in the distance. The sky above is streaked with soft oranges and pinks, melting into deepening blues at the edges. Luke exhales. @@.luke;"This never gets old, does it?"@@ You s hake your head. @@.player;"Nope."@@ For a moment, the two of you just stand there, taking it all in—the quiet, the view, and the weight of a day well spent. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You climb, feeling the slight pull in your legs as the hill steepens. The town below stretches out, the rooftops glowing in the golden light of the setting sun. Luke walks beside you, his pace easy despite the incline, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. His bouquet is tucked under his arm, like he's still not entirely sure what to do with it. You glance at him, then back at the sky. @@.player;"Alright, let's get this out of the way,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You still mad about the game?"@@ Luke lets out a slow breath through his nose. @@.luke;"Hah. Mad?"@@ He kicks a loose rock ahead of him, watching it tumble down the slope. @@.luke;"I don't know if 'mad' is the right word. 'Frustrated as all hell' might be more accurate."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I figured."@@ @@.luke;"You saw the last play, $name,"@@ he continues, shaking his head. @@.luke;"I had it. It was //right// there."@@ You nod. Friday night's game had been brutal—Pacific Crest had fought hard against Riverview, the score neck-and-neck the entire time. And in the final seconds, Luke had been so close to making the game-winning catch. But a defender had knocked the ball loose at the last second, sealing Pacific Crest's loss. You glance at him. @@.player;"You keep replaying it in your head?"@@ Luke scoffs. @@.luke;"Oh, constantly,"@@ he admits. @@.luke;"I keep thinking, like—if I had just turned a second faster, if I'd angled my body //just// right, maybe I could've held onto it."@@ His voice tightens, frustration lanced beneath the words. @@.player;"You know it wasn't just that one play, right?"@@ you say. @@.player;"You guys didn't lose because of you."@@ Luke lets out a sharp exhale, running a hand through his hair. @@.luke;"I //know// that. Doesn't mean it doesn't suck."@@ The two of you reach the hill's crest, the world stretching wide beneath you. The sun is low, dipping toward the horizon, casting long shadows over the town. The ocean in the distance reflects back the warm glow, rippling gently under the sky. It's a ''picturesque'' view. Luke stares out over the town. @@.luke;"It's just... this is our senior year, you know? I wanted us to start strong. And now it feels like we've already screwed up."@@ @@.player;"You didn't screw up,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You lost a game. That's not the same thing."@@ Luke huffs. @@.luke;"Feels like it."@@ You let the silence sit for a few seconds before nudging him with your elbow. @@.player;"You do realize there are, like, a ton of games left, right?"@@ Luke tilts his head. @@.luke;"Hmm. No one's ever mentioned this to me before."@@ @@.player;"Oh, shut up,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You and I both know one loss doesn't define the season."@@ Luke is quiet for a moment, then sighs. @@.luke;"Yeah, yeah. I know. I just hate the feeling, you know? Watching the clock run out and knowing you could have changed it but didn't."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"And yet, here you are. Still standing. With a bouquet of sunflowers too."@@ Luke snorts, finally cracking a smile. He lifts the bouquet slightly. @@.luke;"Well, maybe they'll bring good luck for the next game."@@ @@.player;"That, or you can use them to blindside the next defender who tries to block you."@@ He laughs at that. @@.luke;"Now that's a strategy alright."@@ The two of you stand there for a few seconds, watching as the sun sinks lower. Luke exhales, rolling his shoulders back. @@.luke;"Alright,"@@ he says, more to himself than to you. @@.luke;"Guess I'll just have to play harder next time."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Guess so."@@ For the first time since Friday, he actually sounds like he believes it. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d14lukechoice1 is 1>>\ You and Luke continue up the hill, the flower stand lingering in your thoughts. You glance at Luke, who's still casually swinging his bouquet around like it's a football he doesn't know what to do with. For all his easy confidence, there's something funny about seeing a broad-shouldered football player casually strolling up a hill with a bunch of sunflowers. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say, eyeing him. @@.player;"Be honest. Did you actually want flowers, or was this all just an elaborate excuse to pet the dog?"@@ Luke doesn't answer right away. He keeps walking, expression neutral, as if he didn't hear you. @@.player;"Luke,"@@ you repeat firmly. Still nothing. @@.player;"Luke."@@ He exhales dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. @@.luke;"Okay,"@@ he admits, dragging the word out. @@.luke;"Maybe—I //might// have—//initially//—been motivated by the dog. At first."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"So all that talk about becoming a flower guy—"@@ @@.luke;"Hey,"@@ he cuts in. @@.luke;"I'll have you know that was completely real. I have grown as a person. I am now a man of culture and floral appreciation."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Oh yeah? Name three flowers that aren't sunflowers or roses."@@ Luke opens his mouth, then immediately closes it. His eyes flicker slightly, like his brain is desperately trying to recall every flower he's ever heard of in his life. After a second, he clears his throat. @@.luke;"Dandelions count, right?"@@ @@.player;"Weeds don't count."@@ @@.luke;"Orchids?"@@ he tries. @@.player;"Okay, that's one."@@ @@.luke;"...Pink ones?"@@ You give him a look. @@.player;"You are ''horrible'' at this."@@ Luke groans, tilting his head back. @@.luke;"Whatever, man. My relationship with flowers is still in its early stages. We're taking things slow."@@ @@.player;"Right, right,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"Wouldn't want to rush into things. Gotta build a solid foundation of trust before you commit."@@ @@.luke;"Exactly, now you're getting it!"@@ Luke nods sagely. @@.luke;"It's all about respect."@@ You shake your head and laugh. Luke glances at the sunflowers again, this time with less hesitation, turning them slightly. @@.luke;"...But for real,"@@ he says, voice a little quieter, @@.luke;"they're nice."@@ You glance at him. @@.luke;"I never really thought about, like... having flowers before. But they make you feel kinda good, y'know."@@ And you do. Something about the simplicity of it—the reminder that something beautiful can just exist—it does make you feel good. Luke exhales before grinning again. @@.luke;"Still, I've got to say that was a ten outta ten experience. Petted an amazing dog, walked away with flowers, made fun of you—perfect day, honestly."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"You're lucky Luna liked you. Otherwise, you'd be walking away with nothing."@@ Luke grins, clapping a hand on your shoulder. @@.player;"But she //did// like me. Because dogs recognize greatness."@@ You shove his hand off and laugh. <<elseif $d14lukechoice1 is 2>>\ You and Luke keep walking, the path sloping upward beneath your feet. The town stretches out behind you, the last bits of afternoon sunlight painting everything in a golden glow. The sky is shifting, touches of orange and pink appearing. For a while, neither of you speak. Not because there's nothing to say, but because it's //nice//—the quiet, the rhythm of walking, the way the breeze carries the scent of sea salt and grass. Then, without much thought, you ask, @@.player;"Do you ever think about where we'll be a year from now?"@@ Luke exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. @@.luke;"Damn, $name. You're hitting me with the big questions."@@ @@.player;"I'm just thinking."@@ Luke falls quiet for a few seconds, staring ahead as the hill keeps climbing. Then, he says, @@.luke;"Yeah. I think about it a lot, actually."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ @@.luke;"I mean... this is it, right? The last time things are gonna be exactly like this. And I know, everyone says stuff like 'oh, we'll keep in touch, nothing's gonna change,' but..."@@ He trails off, kicking at a loose pebble in the dirt path. @@.luke;"I dunno. Sometimes I wonder if that's actually true."@@ Luke keeps going, voice growing quieter. @@.luke;"Like, you and Sam and me—we've been friends forever. But what happens when we're not all in the same place anymore? What happens when college, or jobs, or whatever else starts pulling us in different directions? Do we just... drift?"@@ Luke isn't the kind of person who dwells on the bad outcomes, you know that. He's the //it'll work out// guy. But right now, there's something unspoken behind his words—the kind of thing he usually brushes off with a joke or a shrug. Like maybe, despite all his usual optimism, a small part of him wonders if things won't stay as easy as they've been until now. You take some time to think before responding. @@.player;"You know,"@@ you say after a moment, @@.player;"I don't think it's as simple as either staying close or drifting apart."@@ Luke looks at you, brows furrowed. @@.player;"I think... yeah, things //will// change,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"We won't see each other every day like we do now. We'll have different schedules, different places to be. But that doesn't mean we're just gonna stop being friends, right? Some people stay in your life, no matter how much time passes. And if we want to keep in touch, I think we will."@@ Luke doesn't respond right away. He just looks at you thoughtfully before sighing. @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ he murmurs. @@.luke;"I hope so."@@ There's something unspoken in the air—something about him. Friendships have always come pretty naturally to Luke, as effortless as breathing or blinking. But with the future creeping closer, it's like he realizes that things won't stay effortless forever. He doesn't know what that means yet. But at the very least, he knows he wants to hold onto this. Before you can figure out what to say, the ground levels, and you're suddenly at the top of the hill. The town stretches below, rooftops bathed in gold, the sea in the distance shimmer. Luke exhales slowly, hands on his hips, staring at the view. @@.luke;"Man, it's really gonna suck leaving this place."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"It is."@@ He's quiet for a moment. Then with a small, almost reluctant smile, he nudges your shoulder. @@.luke;"I guess that means we should make the most of it while we're here, huh?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. We should."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "The hill's crest" "Day 14 - Luke 5">><</button>>

On the hill, the view is ''beautiful''. Crestview Bay is spread out below like a living painting, the rooftops dipped in a golden light. The winding streets, throbbing with life just a few hours ago, now seem quieter, muted in the evening haze. The remaining daylight sparkles on the glass windows of buildings—turning them into shimmering mirrors reflecting the sky above. Past the town, the ocean stretches away to the horizon, the surface glimmering with streaks of gold and indigo. The sun is low, a glowing ball of fire descending slowly into the water, its light spilling across the waves. Wisps of pink and lavender clouds stretch lazily across the sky, blending seamlessly into the deepening blue of the approaching night. To the west, the cliffs stand in contrast against the sky, their rugged edges glowing in the fading light. The fields below them sway with the breeze, patches of wildflowers dotting the landscape with vibrant color. Above, the first stars begin to flicker into existence, delicate pinpricks of silver against a canvas of twilight. The world feels ''endless'' from up here—vast, beautiful, and oh so alive. Luke exhales, hands on his hips as he takes in the view, letting the quiet stretch between you both. Then, after a moment, he nods to himself and says, almost like he's making it official, @@.luke;"That was a good day."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you respond, a small smile tugging at your lips. @@.player;"It was."@@ Neither of you say much else after that. You just stand there for a little while longer before eventually making your way down the hill and home. <<button "Finish up" "Day 14 - 3">><</button>>

<<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "D14Luke">>\ Crestview Bay's town center is the kind of place that always has just enough happening to feel alive but never enough to feel overwhelming. The main square is lined with small shops, cafés, and a few restaurants with outdoor seating, their tables shaded by striped umbrellas. The scent of fresh bread drifts from the local bakery, mixing with the salty breeze rolling in from the bay. It's where families stroll, old couples feed the birds, and kids kill time when there's nowhere else to be. You weave through the mild afternoon crowd, scanning for Luke. He hadn't been specific in his text—just "//Meet me in town, I'll be around!//"—which, honestly, is the most ''Luke'' thing ever. No details, no exact location, just the assumption that you'd figure it out. And, as it turns out, figuring it out is easy. Because Luke is currently standing on the rim of the central fountain, arms outstretched for balance, wobbling precariously like a complete idiot. You slow your steps, watching with both amusement and secondhand embarrassment. He's in casual clothes—jeans, sneakers, and a loose hoodie—but that effortless athlete confidence is still there, the kind that says "yeah, I could probably stick the landing if I wanted to." Some older man sitting on a nearby bench watches him too, shaking his head like he's about to witness the dumbest accident of the day. Luke takes another step along the rim, his sneakers slipping slightly against the wet stone, but instead of getting down like a normal person, he just grins to himself and keeps going. You sigh. @@.player;"Luke, what the hell are you doing?"@@ At the sound of your voice, he glances over, shifting his weight slightly—except he overcorrects, loses his balance, and in the span of about two seconds, he has to do a ridiculous windmilling flail to keep himself from falling straight into the fountain. By some miracle, he manages to jump off at the last second, landing on solid ground with all the grace of someone pretending they meant to do that. He straightens up, shakes out his arms, and acts like none of that just happened. @@.luke;"Oh, hey,"@@ he says, as if you hadn't just watched him nearly eat pavement. You cross your arms. @@.player;"You good?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, totally."@@ He gestures vaguely back at the fountain. @@.luke;"I was just—uh—seeing if I could still do that balance thing, you know? Like when we were kids? I //used// to be able to walk all the way around the edge without falling off."@@ You glance at the slippery, uneven stone. @@.player;"Yeah, well, maybe don't test that theory."@@ Luke exhales dramatically, shaking his head. @@.luke;"$name, where's your sense of adventure?"@@ @@.player;"Luke, where's your sense of self-preservation?"@@ @@.luke;"Fair point,"@@ he concedes, cracking his neck. Then he looks at you properly, his usual easy energy settling into something more natural. @@.luke;"I wasn't sure you'd actually come,"@@ he admits, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. @@.luke;"Figured you might be busy. Or, I dunno, just not in the mood."@@ There's no accusation in his voice, no guilt-tripping. Just an honest acknowledgment that sometimes people don't show up. But you're here. And judging by the way Luke's shoulders relax slightly, that means something to him. @@.player;"Guess I wasn't in the mood to let you crack your skull open alone,"@@ you say. Luke grins. @@.luke;"See? That's real friendship."@@ He nods toward the rest of the square, and just like that, the day unfolds in front of you both. <<button "Come on, let's go" "Day 14 - Luke 1">><</button>>

<<if $d14vincentchoice0 is 0>>\ @@.player;"Vincent. Earth to Vincent,"@@ you say, keeping your voice just loud enough to be heard but quiet enough not to earn a glare from the librarian. @@.player;"Are you trapped inside that book, or can you still hear human voices?"@@ Vincent startles so hard that he nearly knocks over his iced coffee. His pen slips from his fingers, clattering against the notebook, and his head snaps up, eyes wide behind his glasses. For a second, he just stares at you, like he's still mentally clawing his way out of whatever literary abyss he was lost in. Then, recognition flickers across his face. His shoulders relax—just slightly—and he lets out a breathy, nervous laugh. @@.vincent;"Oh. //Oh.// $name. Hey."@@ He quickly straightens his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose as if that'll somehow make him look less completely caught off guard. @@.player;"You looked like you were about five seconds away from merging with the page,"@@ you tease, sliding into the seat next to him. Vincent huffs, clearly flustered, and quickly flips his book closed, revealing the title: //East of Eden//. You glance at it, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"That's uh—Steinbeck, right?"@@ Vincent nods, still looking a little embarrassed at being caught so engrossed. @@.vincent;"Yeah. One of his big ones. Kind of a ''huge'' one, actually."@@ He taps his fingers against the book's worn cover, his voice picking up a little. @@.vincent;"It's this sprawling, multi-generational story about family and good and evil and—just—everything, really."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"That's not vague at all."@@ Vincent laughs under his breath, shaking his head. @@.vincent;"I know, I know. It's just hard to sum up in a couple of sentences. It's got biblical references, big moral dilemmas, super flawed characters—it's messy, but in the best way. It feels //real//, you know?"@@ You don't, not really—you haven't read it. But you can tell by the way he talks about it, the way his fingers linger on the cover, that it means something to him. @@.player;"I mean, I'll take your word for it,"@@ you say, leaning on the table. @@.player;"I don't think I've ever seen you //not// reading something, though. What makes this one stand out?"@@ Vincent hesitates, like he's not sure how much to say. His foot taps lightly under the table. @@.vincent;"I guess... I just like the idea that people can choose to be good or bad. That you're not just //born// a certain way. You get to decide."@@ His voice is quieter now. @@.vincent;"Not every book really //says// that, you know?"@@ You nod slowly, letting that sit between you for a moment. @@.player;"So, are you planning on finishing the whole thing in one sitting, or can you be convinced to take a break?"@@ you ask after a few seconds. Vincent blinks, like he just now remembers where he is. @@.vincent;"Oh!"@@ He glances at his coffee—mostly melted now—and then back at you. @@.vincent;"I mean... I could take a break."@@ @@.player;"Good,"@@ you say, stretching your arms over your head. @@.player;"Because I'm not letting you escape back into 1950s existential despair just yet."@@ Vincent chuckles, a little sheepish but clearly easing up. @@.vincent;"Guess I should've seen that coming."@@ <<elseif $d14vincentchoice0 is 1>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"That must be one hell of a book,"@@ you say. @@.player;"What's got you so hooked?"@@ Vincent doesn't startle. Instead, he blinks, as if processing your words, then lifts his gaze to meet yours with quiet curiosity. His fingers hover over the page he was just reading, like part of him is still half in the story. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says, voice soft but not uncertain. @@.vincent;"Hey, $name."@@ His expression shifts, and for a second, you catch something like relief in his face. Like he's genuinely happy to see you. He gestures vaguely to the book in front of him. //East of Eden//. @@.vincent;"Steinbeck,"@@ he says simply, like that should explain everything. You glance down at the cover, tilting your head. @@.player;"Right. That book."@@ Vincent picks up on your tone. @@.vincent;"You have no idea what it's about, do you?"@@ @@.player;"Not really,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"Something about... California? Farms?"@@ That gets a small but quiet laugh out of him. @@.vincent;"That's... not wrong,"@@ he admits. He shifts in his seat, sitting up a little straighter. @@.vincent;"But it's more than that. It's about two families over multiple generations, and the whole thing kind of mirrors //Cain and Abel//, but also not exactly? It's more like—"@@ He pauses, his hands moving slightly as he searches for the right words. @@.vincent;"It's about //choice//, I guess. You've got Caleb—he's one of the brothers—who spends the whole book trying to prove he's not inherently bad because of where he comes from. But there's this huge question of whether he even //can// be good, or if he's doomed to be like his mother, who—well, okay, that's spoilers, but trust me, she's awful."@@ Vincent takes a quick breath, his foot bouncing lightly under the table, and glances up at you sheepishly. @@.vincent;"Sorry. I'm rambling."@@ You smirk, sliding into the seat across from him. @@.player;"No, keep going. You were just getting dramatic. I was waiting for the monologue."@@ Vincent rolls his eyes, but you can tell he's pleased. @@.vincent;"I just like books that say something, you know? The kind that makes you think about yourself without realizing it. Like, this book—it makes me wonder if people are actually stuck being the way they are, or if they can really change."@@ He runs his fingers along the spine, thoughtful. @@.vincent;"I keep thinking about this one part—Caleb, he finds out his dad lost a bunch of money, right? And his first instinct is to fix it, to prove himself. But the whole book's been setting up this idea that he might be destined to be bad, so you're just waiting to see what kind of choice he makes."@@ You nod slowly, not because you get it, but because you get //him//. Vincent talks about books like they're living things, like they matter in a way that goes beyond just words on a page. @@.player;"Sounds intense,"@@ you say. Vincent hums in agreement, tapping his pen lightly against the table. @@.vincent;"It is. But that's what I like about it. It makes you think."@@ For a moment, the two of you sit in easy silence, the quiet hum of the library wrapping around you. Then Vincent exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. @@.vincent;"$name, I've been here for hours,"@@ he admits. @@.vincent;"I should probably take a break before my brain melts and I start writing essays in my sleep."@@ @@.player;"Wow, Vinny admitting he needs a break?"@@ you say, a wide smirk on your face. @@.player;"That //must// be serious."@@ @@.vincent;"Shut up,"@@ Vincent says, huffing as he stuffs his notes into his bag. There's no bite to his words though, just the usual warmth. He hesitates slightly before adding, @@.vincent;"You wanna get coffee?"@@ It's not a casual invitation, at least not for Vincent. He's not the type to just //ask// people to hang out unless he's sure they won't mind. And honestly? You don't mind. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, standing up. @@.player;"Let's go."@@ <<else>>\ You take a breath, straighten your posture, and go for it. @@.player;"You didn't start the adventure without me, did you? I thought we were in this together!"@@ Vincent jumps so hard that his pen nearly flies out of his hand. His head snaps up, wide eyes darting around in panic before locking onto you, his brain visibly buffering as he tries to process what just happened. His shoulders are tense, his mouth slightly open like he's caught mid-thought. For a moment, he just stares at you, looking like a startled deer caught in headlights. Then, all at once, his brain seems to catch up. He exhales sharply, slumping back against his chair as he presses a hand to his chest. @@.vincent;"Oh my God, $name,"@@ he mutters, blinking rapidly. @@.vincent;"You almost gave me a heart attack."@@ You grin, sliding into the seat across from him like this was your plan all along. @@.player;"I had to. You were in so deep that I thought I lost you to the pages forever."@@ Vincent huffs, shaking his head as he glances down at his book. @@.vincent;"I just—I got caught up. You know how it is."@@ @@.player;"Oh, I don't, actually,"@@ you tease, leaning on the table. @@.player;"Enlighten me, O Keeper of the Literature."@@ Vincent snorts, rolling his eyes, but you can see the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He shifts slightly, tapping the book with his index finger. @@.vincent;"It's //East of Eden// by John Steinbeck. I've been meaning to read it properly for a while."@@ You glance at the thick novel in front of him. The cover is simple, worn from years of being handled, and the title is printed in bold letters. @@.player;"//East of Eden//,"@@ you repeat, tilting your head. @@.player;"That's, uh... the one about farms, right?"@@ Vincent looks at you like you just declared that reading books might make your brain explode. You hold up your hands, desperate to defend yourself. @@.player;"Hey, I sort of know things! I think my English teacher mentioned it once."@@ Vincent sighs, but there's amusement in it. @@.vincent;"It's a lot more than just farms. It's about these families and how their lives mirror the story of Cain and Abel. There's this whole generational thing, like the cycles of good and evil repeating, and it's all wrapped up in these huge philosophical ideas about free will and fate."@@ You blink. @@.player;"That sounds... intense."@@ @@.vincent;"It is,"@@ Vincent says, eyes flicking back down to the pages like he's already thinking about the next chapter. @@.vincent;"But in a good way. Steinbeck doesn't just tell you a story—he makes you //feel// it, like every single character is a real person. Some of them are awful, some are good, but none of them are just one thing. It's... really complicated."@@ You watch him for a second. The way he leans forward, his fingers moving slightly as he talks, his words coming out with a rare kind of confidence. When Vincent's talking about something he really cares about, it's like the rest of the world fades into the background. @@.player;"Okay, I have to say,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.player;"Are you reading this for school, or is this just a Vincent passion project?"@@ @@.vincent;"Definitely a passion project,"@@ he says without hesitation. @@.vincent;"I like reading stuff on my own before a teacher gets to it. That way, I don't have to sit through their terrible explanations."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Not a fan of Mr. Reeds' rambles?"@@ Vincent groans, dragging a hand down his face. @@.vincent;"If he gets a book's themes wrong one more time, I might actually die."@@ You laugh, shaking your head. @@.player;"Okay, fair."@@ Then you gesture toward the book. @@.player;"Well, since I just saved you from being completely consumed by a book, I vote we take a break."@@ Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"A break?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, you know, a break,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You've been buried in that thing for who knows how long. Let's do something that doesn't involve tiny handwriting and existential crises."@@ Vincent hesitates for a moment, looking down at his book like it physically pains him to put it down. But then he exhales, closing it gently. @@.vincent;"I guess a break wouldn't hurt."@@ You grin, mission accomplished. @@.player;"That's the spirit."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Take a break" "Day 14 - Vincent 2">><</button>>

The library café is a quiet little space nestled near the entrance, a mix of dark wood tables and soft, overstuffed chairs. The low hum of conversation blends with the gentle clatter of ceramic mugs and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. The whole place smells like old books and coffee beans, like the scene has seeped into the walls over the years. A few students sit scattered around the café too, some hunched over laptops with others scribbling in notebooks while nursing half-empty cups of coffee. Vincent walks in like he's done this a hundred times before, barely hesitating before heading straight for the counter. The way he moves—so naturally, so automatically—tells you everything you need to know. @@.player;"You come here a lot, don't you?"@@ you say, watching as he digs around in his pocket for his wallet. @@.vincent;"Uh,"@@ he says, freezing for a second. @@.vincent;"Define //a lot//."@@ Before you can answer, the barista, a college-aged girl with thick curly hair that reaches to her shoulders, glances up from wiping down the counter and gives Vincent a knowing smile. @@.girl;"Back already?"@@ Vincent coughs. @@.vincent;"Hi, Clair."@@ @@.girl;"The usual?"@@ she asks. @@.vincent;"Yes, please."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Vincent, she knows your usual?"@@ Vincent shifts his weight, suddenly looking like he's reconsidering all his life choices. @@.vincent;"I—I mean, I //do// spend a lot of time here,"@@ he says, avoiding your gaze like he's been caught lying. @@.vincent;"It's quiet. Good place to read. Good lighting."@@ Clair scoffs as she punches his order into the register. @@.girl;"//You// come here for the lighting?"@@ Vincent groans, already regretting everything. @@.vincent;"And the coffee,"@@ he mutters. You smirk. @@.player;"So what you're really saying is, you come here because you're addicted to caffeine."@@ @@.vincent;"Okay, yes,"@@ Vincent admits, sighing dramatically as he shoves a crumpled bill onto the counter. @@.vincent;"I might be a little—"@@ He makes an indistinct gesture with his hands. @@.vincent;"—//slightly// dependent on coffee."@@ @@.player;"Slightly?"@@ you repeat. @@.vincent;"Slightly,"@@ he insists, like saying it more will make it true. Clair, clearly amused, starts making his drink with automatic efficiency. You glance at Vincent and smirk. @@.player;"Even //she// doesn't believe you."@@ Vincent groans, dragging a hand down his face. @@.vincent;"Look, I need it, okay? Caffeine is basically my lifeline. If I don't have coffee, I turn into—"@@ He pauses, then frowns. @@.vincent;"Actually, I don't know what I turn into, because I've never let it happen."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Sounds dangerous. Should I be concerned?"@@ @@.vincent;"Yes,"@@ Vincent says, completely serious. Then, after a beat, he tilts his head at you. @@.vincent;"Wait, $name. You //do// drink coffee, right?"@@ You glance at the menu, skimming the options. @@.player;"Yeah, obviously."@@ @@.vincent;"Good,"@@ Vincent says, nodding solemnly. @@.vincent;"Because I don't trust people who don't drink coffee."@@ @@.player;"//That's// your dealbreaker?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"Yep. No caffeine? No friendship."@@ Clair places his drink on the counter—a large, overfilled cup of coffee that he's had many times before. He thanks her quietly, gripping the cup with both hands like it's a sacred artifact. You shake your head, amused, and step up to the register. <<button "Get a black coffee" "Day 14 - Vincent 3">>\<<set $d14vincentchoice1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Get a caramel latte" "Day 14 - Vincent 3">>\<<set $d14vincentchoice1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Get an iced mocha" "Day 14 - Vincent 3">>\<<set $d14vincentchoice1 to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Skip coffee" "Day 14 - Vincent 3">>\<<set $d14vincentchoice1 to 3>>\<</button>>

<<if $d14vincentchoice1 is 0>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'll take a black coffee,"@@ you say, sliding your hands into your pockets as you glance at the menu. Simple. No frills. Just coffee. There's a beat of silence. Then Vincent tilts his head, clearly surprised. @@.vincent;"Black coffee?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ He stares at you for a second like he's trying to figure out if you're serious. Then, after another pause, he nods, a slow look of approval settling on his face. @@.vincent;"Huh. Okay."@@ Clair, the barista, barely reacts as she punches in the order. @@.girl;"One black coffee,"@@ she mutters, turning to prep it. Vincent leans against the counter, still watching you with intrigue. @@.vincent;"I gotta admit, $name, I didn't see that coming. Black coffee is, like, the purest form of caffeine. No sugar, no milk, no distractions—just //coffee//."@@ @@.player;"What, you thought I'd order something covered in whipped cream?"@@ you ask, shrugging. He smirks. @@.vincent;"I mean, you //do// have the energy of someone who'd get a caramel drizzle situation."@@ You can't help but roll your eyes. @@.player;"Can't believe you'd stereotype my coffee choices."@@ Vincent chuckles. @@.vincent;"But yeah, black coffee. That's real. That's some grizzled detective in a noir film kind of drink. Total 'I've seen things, kid' energy."@@ @@.player;"Don't make it weird."@@ @@.vincent;"It's already weird."@@ At this point, Clair places the finished coffee on the counter, waiting for payment. <<if $money > 4>>\ <<set $money -= 5>>\ You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone, placing it on the reader without hesitation. Vincent watches you pay, still looking mildly impressed. @@.vincent;"See, now I'm really questioning everything,"@@ he says, taking a sip of his own coffee. @@.vincent;"You actually chose to drink black coffee. On purpose."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Scared?"@@ @@.vincent;"Absolutely not. Just saying you chose a difficult path."@@ <<else>>\ You look at your phone to see you only have $money dollars, not enough to even buy a coffee. Vincent notices your expression changing immediately and doesn't even hesitate before sliding a couple of bills across the counter. You blink. @@.player;"Wait, what—?"@@ @@.vincent;"It's coffee,"@@ he says simply, as if that explains everything. @@.player;"You didn't even let me ask—"@@ @@.vincent;"Again, $name. It's ''coffee''."@@ <</if>>\ You grab your coffee and take a sip, letting the sharp bitterness hit your tongue. No sweetness, no cream—just coffee in its rawest form. Vincent watches like he's expecting you to immediately regret everything, but when you don't react, he exhales and shakes his head. @@.vincent;"Yeah, okay, respect,"@@ he mutters. @@.vincent;"I could never do that. I need some sugar, at least. But I admire your commitment to suffering."@@ @@.player;"I appreciate it,"@@ you say, smirking. It's quiet for a second. Just the faint hum of the espresso machine and the quiet murmur of distant conversations. Then, Vincent clears his throat, shifting the mood. @@.vincent;"So, black coffee drinker. Since you've chosen //this// path, what's next? Gonna start monologuing about fate? Staring broodingly out of windows? Wearing a trench coat?"@@ @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I do like a good dramatic exit."@@ @@.vincent;"Okay, well, if you do decide to go full noir detective, let me know. I'll be your quirky sidekick! I'll even bring a notebook and say something like, 'This case gets stranger by the second, boss.'"@@ You laugh and shake your head. @@.player;"Vinny, I think you've had too much coffee."@@ He takes another sip, completely unrepentant. @@.vincent;"Impossible."@@ <<elseif $d14vincentchoice1 is 1>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at the menu, scanning over the options. You could go simple, but honestly? A caramel latte sounds good—warm, smooth, just the right mix of sweet and bitter. The kind of drink that feels a little indulgent but still counts as //real// coffee. @@.player;"I'll take a caramel latte,"@@ you say, looking up at the barista. Vincent, who had been taking a cautious first sip of his own coffee, pauses mid-drink. He lowers his cup slightly, eyes flicking to you with something close to approval. @@.vincent;"Good choice,"@@ he says, nodding. @@.vincent;"It's got structure. Complexity. Balance."@@ You snort. @@.player;"It's just coffee with caramel."@@ Vincent shakes his head, his expression going serious. @@.vincent;"No. Nothing is ever just coffee. Coffee is history. Coffee is culture. Do you realize the entire Enlightenment was basically fueled by caffeine?"@@ @@.player;"I—what?"@@ you ask, blinking. Vincent's already gearing up for a full tangent, his hands gesturing slightly as he speaks. @@.vincent;"Before coffeehouses spread through Europe, people drank beer or wine all day because water wasn't safe. So naturally, once everyone switched from being mildly drunk all the time to being hyped up on caffeine instead, we got, you know, science, philosophy, the Industrial Revolution—"@@ @@.player;"Are you saying caramel lattes made the modern world?"@@ you interrupt. Vincent points at you. @@.vincent;"I'm saying ''coffee'' made the modern world, and caramel lattes are just the delicious continuation of that legacy."@@ You shake your head, still grinning, and reach into your pocket to grab your phone. <<if $money > 4>>\ <<set $money -= 5>>\ You press your phone against the reader as the barista rings you up. Vincent watches, nodding in satisfaction. @@.vincent;"A fine investment,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"You won't regret this."@@ @@.player;"I didn't think I would regret buying coffee,"@@ you say, amused. @@.vincent;"You'd be surprised,"@@ Vincent mutters. @@.vincent;"I once ordered an iced vanilla latte at a franchise, and I //swear// it tasted like regret and melted candle wax."@@ @@.player;"Sounds tragic,"@@ you say, stepping aside as Clair starts making your drink. @@.vincent;"It //was// tragic,"@@ Vincent sighs, taking another sip of his own coffee. @@.vincent;"But I have risen from that dark chapter in my life. And now, I only drink real coffee."@@ <<else>>\ You look at your balance and frown. Right. No money. Vincent catches this immediately. Without hesitation, he steps forward, sliding a few bills onto the counter before you can even protest. @@.vincent;"I got it."@@ @@.player;"Vincent—"@@ @@.vincent;"It's coffee, $name."@@ He gives you a look like this is the easiest decision he's ever made. @@.vincent;"I love coffee. Sharing coffee is basically my highest moral principle. If this were the 18th century, I'd be funding a whole coffeehouse just so I could drag people there to talk about books."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You'd be a coffeehouse patron?"@@ @@.vincent;"Absolutely,"@@ Vincent says without hesitation. @@.vincent;"Like some eccentric scholar who spends all day writing about philosophical treatises while slowly ruining his health with excessive caffeine intake."@@ @@.player;"Sounds exactly like how you are now."@@ Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"...I have //always// been consistent."@@ You shake your head, smirking as the barista takes his money and starts making your drink. <</if>>\ By the time your caramel latte is ready, Vincent is still lightly rambling about something—this time about how Honoré de Balzac supposedly drank fifty cups of coffee a day while writing. You don't interrupt. It's honestly fascinating how his brain just works, constantly moving and finding something interesting to talk about. You grab your drink, taking a sip. The warm, sweet mix of caramel and espresso hits instantly, smooth and just the right amount of strong. @@.player;"Not bad,"@@ you admit. Vincent leans forward slightly, watching your reaction like a scientist waiting for lab results. @@.vincent;"See? Balance. Complexity. A civilized drink."@@ You roll your eyes, but take another sip. @@.player;"Yeah, yeah. It's good."@@ Vincent sits back, looking rather pleased with himself. @@.vincent;"Welcome to the Enlightenment, $name."@@ <<elseif $d14vincentchoice1 is 2>>\ You glance at the menu, considering your options for half a second before deciding, @@.player;"I'll have an iced mocha."@@ Clair nods, punching it into the register. Before she even says the price, Vincent lets out a tiny, almost inaudible gasp. @@.vincent;"Chocolate?"@@ He says it like you just admitted to some unspeakable crime. His eyes narrow slightly, and then, with absolute seriousness, he mutters, @@.vincent;"We are in the age of decadence."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ Vincent sighs, shaking his head as if he's personally disappointed in you. @@.vincent;"We've fallen so far from the austere virtues of our ancestors. Once, people drank coffee for strength and survival. Now? It's all whipped cream and chocolate syrup. Bread and circuses."@@ Clair snorts, clearly used to this kind of thing from him. @@.girl;"You do realize you order vanilla syrup in your coffee every single time, right?"@@ Vincent stiffens slightly, but recovers quickly. @@.vincent;"That's different."@@ @@.player;"How?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"It just //is//,"@@ Vincent insists, avoiding your gaze as he sips his coffee like he can physically will himself out of this conversation. <<if $money > 4>>\ <<set $money -= 5>>\ You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone to pay. You press your phone against the reader and take your receipt. Vincent watches the transaction like he's still debating whether or not he can respect you after this dee. @@.vincent;"An iced mocha,"@@ he repeats, still pretending to be scandalized. @@.vincent;"You know, $name, the Roman Empire collapsed after centuries of self-indulgence and excess. Just saying!"@@ <<else>>\ You reach into your pocket and look at your phone, only to realize—//oh//. You frown, looking at your balance. You don't have enough. @@.player;"Ugh, crap."@@ Vincent just sighs and pulls out his wallet. @@.vincent;"It's fine,"@@ he says before you can even protest. He slides a few bills across the counter, nodding at Clair to continue. @@.player;"You really don't have to—"@@ @@.vincent;"it's coffee, $name,"@@ Vincent says dryly. @@.vincent;"Not a noble sacrifice."@@ Clair hands you the receipt, and Vincent shakes his head at you as if this is yet another example of your many personal failings. @@.vincent;"First an iced mocha, now financial ruin. Next thing I know, you'll be wearing a toga and proclaiming yourself Emperor of Crestview Bay."@@ <</if>>\ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"I didn't realize my coffee order had historical consequences."@@ Vincent shrugs, taking another sip of his drink. @@.vincent;"That's how it always starts."@@ A minute later, Clair sets your iced mocha on the counter, and you grab it, immediately taking a long sip. It's cold, sweet, and exactly what you want. You glance at Vincent, who's still watching you like you're some kind of tragic figure from history. @@.player;"Just admit it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You're jealous."@@ Vincent scoffs. @@.vincent;"Of what?"@@ @@.player;"That my coffee actually tastes better than yours."@@ @@.vincent;"I'll have you know that my coffee has integrity, dignity, and character,"@@ Vincent says, hand over heart. @@.player;"It tastes like burnt dirt, doesn't it?"@@ Vincent glares. @@.vincent;"It does not."@@ You smirk, sipping your mocha again, while Vincent mutters something under his breath about moral decay and the inevitable fall of civilization. <<elseif $d14vincentchoice1 is 3>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You glance up at the menu, skimming over the different coffee options, but nothing really jumps out at you. Honestly? You're just not feeling it right now. Either way, when Clair looks at you expectantly, waiting for your order, you just shake your head. @@.player;"I'm good,"@@ you say. The second the words leave your mouth, you feel Vincent go completely still beside you. You glance at him to see he's staring at you like you just admitted to some heinous crime. @@.vincent;"You're... good?"@@ he repeats slowly, like he's giving you a chance to correct this obvious mistake. You shrug. @@.player;"Yeah. I don't really want anything."@@ Vincent squints. @@.vincent;"No coffee?"@@ @@.player;"Correct."@@ @@.vincent;"Not even, like, a small one?"@@ @@.player;"Nope."@@ Vincent's grip on his coffee tightens. He leans in slightly, lowering his voice like this is a conspiracy and not a casual decision. @@.vincent;"Do you not drink coffee?"@@ @@.player;"Are you interrogating me?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.vincent;"I just—"@@ He hesitates, glancing at Clair, who is now very clearly eavesdropping and very entertained. He turns back to you, lowering his voice even further. @@.vincent;"You said you did. Earlier. A few seconds ago."@@ @@.player;"I do sometimes,"@@ you clarify. @@.player;"I just don't want one right now."@@ Vincent looks deeply, //deeply// unconvinced. @@.vincent;"So you're saying that in this situation, in this prime coffee-acquiring environment, you chose to opt out?"@@ @@.player;"Yes?"@@ Vincent leans back, his face unreadable, before taking a slow, deliberate sip of his coffee, maintaining eye contact the entire time. You snort. @@.player;"Are you judging me right now?"@@ He swallows. @@.vincent;"Yes."@@ Clair, still listening in, coughs to cover up a laugh. Vincent ignores her. His foot starts bouncing as he processes this new, deeply disturbing revelation about you. @@.vincent;"You know, I just—I trusted you,"@@ he says finally, shaking his head. @@.vincent;"I thought I understood who you were."@@ @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you mutter. Vincent sighs. @@.vincent;"You had the chance. You had the opportunity to get something, anything, but you just—"@@ He shakes his head, looking genuinely disappointed. @@.vincent;"Like Caesar ignoring the warnings of the Ides of March, you walked straight past fate and into ''disaster''."@@ @@.player;"Are you seriously comparing not getting coffee to Julius Caesar getting assassinated?"@@ Vincent takes a slow, solemn sip of his drink. @@.vincent;"History will judge you, $name."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Take a seat" "Day 14 - Vincent 4">><</button>>

You and Vincent settle into a table near the window, the warm glow of the setting sun casting long shadows across the worn wooden surface. Outside, the quiet streets of Crestview Bay stretch out beneath a sky tinged with the soft pinks and oranges of early evening. Vincent adjusts his chair slightly, making himself comfortable, before wrapping both hands around his coffee cup like it's a source of warmth and security. He exhales softly, letting the moment settle, and for the first time all afternoon, he looks at ease. No frantic page-flipping, no hurried note-taking—just a quiet sense of contentment. @@.vincent;"This place is kind of nice in the evening,"@@ Vincent muses, glancing toward the window. @@.vincent;"Gets quieter. Cozier. More library, less public building."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"You say that like it's some secret hidden gem."@@ @@.vincent;"That's because it //is//,"@@ Vincent insists. @@.vincent;"Most people don't come to the café here. Which is great because that means I can usually get my favorite seat.@@ He vaguely gestures toward a corner table near a bookshelf lined with old hardcovers. It's tucked away, a perfect spot for someone who wants to disappear into a book for a few hours without interruption. @@.player;"Wait,"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"You have a designated seat?"@@ Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"Obviously. You don't just pick any seat in a place you frequent. You pick the best seat."@@ You glance at the two people sitting at that table. @@.player;"And yet, we're sitting over here."@@ Vincent sighs dramatically, as if explaining some deep philosophical burden. @@.vincent;"It's occupied. Tragic, really. But sacrifices must be made."@@ You shake your head in amusement. @@.player;"You're unbelievable, Vincent."@@ @@.vincent;"Thank you,"@@ Vincent says, sipping on his coffee as if you just paid him a genuine compliment. The two of you lapse into silence, the kind that doesn't demand to be filled. The murmur of the espresso machine hums in the background, accompanied by the occasional clink of cups and the soft rustling of pages from a nearby student. It's easy, sitting here like this. Vincent drums his fingers lightly against the side of his cup, thoughtful. @@.vincent;"It's kind of weird,"@@ he admits after a moment. @@.vincent;"I don't... usually do this."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"Do what?"@@ He shrugs slightly, gaze flickering to the window. @@.vincent;"Just... hang out."@@ There's no awkwardness in the admission, but there's a quiet honesty to it. You already know Vincent doesn't have a big social circle. He's never been the kind of person who gets invited to parties. Not because people don't like him, but because he's always been just a little out of sync with everyone else. Always lost in his books, always thinking a few steps too deeply, always worrying about whether he's saying the right thing. @@.player;"You make it sound like this is some rare event,"@@ you say. Vincent gives a small, self-deprecating smile. @@.vincent;"I mean, it kind of is? Usually, if I'm out somewhere, it's because I //need// to be. Like for school or books or something with a specific purpose."@@ He gestures vaguely to his coffee cup. @@.vincent;"Not just... this."@@ You lean back slightly. @@.player;"Well, congrats. You're officially hanging out like a normal person."@@ Vincent laughs, his expression softening. @@.vincent;"Wild."@@ You chuckle along, wondering where you should steer the conversation now. <<button "Talk about books" "Day 14 - Vincent 5">>\<<set $d14vincentchoice2 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Talk about school" "Day 14 - Vincent 5">>\<<set $d14vincentchoice2 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Talk about personal interests" "Day 14 - Vincent 5">>\<<set $d14vincentchoice2 to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $d14vincentchoice2 is 0>>\ You prop your elbow on the table and smirk. @@.player;"Alright, since we're already in full literary nerd mode, what's your all-time favorite book?"@@ Vincent blinks, clearly not expecting the question. Then he straightens in his chair, his fingers gripping his coffee cup a little tighter. @@.vincent;"Oh. Oh, that's a dangerous question."@@ @@.player;"Dangerous how?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.vincent;"Because,"@@ Vincent says, suddenly looking very serious, @@.vincent;"no one has just one favorite book."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Okay, fine. Give me one of them."@@ Vincent's expression shifts—excited, thoughtful, and a little too intense. It's almost like he's trying to pluck the perfect answer from the shelves of the endless library in his head. @@.vincent;"Okay,"@@ he says, after a moment, leaning forward slightly. @@.vincent;"If I had to pick just one... It's probably //The Master and Margarita// by Mikhail Bulgakov."@@ You stare blankly. @@.player;"The what and the who?"@@ Vincent grins, eyes lighting up. @@.vincent;"It's this weird, kind of surreal Russian novel. It's about—okay, stay with me here—the Devil coming to Soviet Moscow and just completely messing with everyone. But it's also about this writer struggling with censorship, and there's this whole side story about Pontius Pilate, and there's a talking cat who drinks vodka and plays chess—"@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ Vincent's already too far gone to slow down. @@.vincent;"And there's this love story, and there's this amazing satire of government and bureaucracy, and there's also this whole philosophical discussion about good and evil, but it's also really funny? Like, in that dark, chaotic way where you don't know whether you should be laughing or deeply concerned."@@ You just blink at him as he keeps going, his hands moving more animatedly now. @@.vincent;"It's just so good,"@@ he continues, completely in his own world. @@.vincent;"The way Bulgakov wrote it—he was literally fighting against Soviet censorship while writing this insanely bold, ridiculous book that somehow manages to be hilarious, tragic, romantic, and existential all at once. And there's this one scene—okay, so, one of the characters—he's basically cursed, and the Devil's whole crew is just toying with him, and at one point, he gets tricked into—"@@ Vincent stops mid-sentence. He looks at you. Really looks at you. And for the first time since he started talking, he seems to realize that he's been going on about this random Russian novel like it's the most normal conversation topic in the world. His face shifts from excitement to dawning horror. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says, visibly deflating. @@.vincent;"I'm... talking way too much, aren't I?"@@ You don't even get a chance to answer before he groans and drops his head onto his folded arms on the table. @@.vincent;"I do this all the time,"@@ he mutters into his sleeve, his voice muffled. @@.vincent;"I get excited, and then I just go, and then suddenly I'm deep into 20th-century Russian literature, and no one cares, and—ugh."@@ @@.player;"Hey, I did ask,"@@ you say, laughing. Vincent peeks up at you from his arms, hesitant. @@.vincent;"Yeah, but did you //really// want a five-minute dissertation?"@@ You smirk. @@.player;"I mean... it was definitely a commitment."@@ Vincent groans again, dramatically dragging his hands down his face before sitting up. @@.vincent;"I'm so bad at normal conversation,"@@ he mumbles, looking vaguely mortified. You shrug. @@.player;"Eh, at least you're passionate."@@ He exhales and shakes his head. @@.vincent;"That's one way to put it."@@ Despite his embarrassment, you can see a faint smile lingering at the edges of his lips. It's like even if he knows he got carried away, he doesn't totally regret it. He glances down at his now-empty cup, realizing he's finished his coffee at some point during his tangent. @@.vincent;"Alright,"@@ he says, standing up and stretching. @@.vincent;"What I should do is stop rambling and actually do what I came here for."@@ @@.player;"Which is?"@@ Vincent slings his bag over his shoulder. @@.vincent;"More books."@@ @@.player;"Of course,"@@ you say, pushing your chair back as you stand up. With that, the two of you make your way back to the library shelves, Vincent leading the way. <<elseif $d14vincentchoice2 is 1>>\ @@.vincent;"You said you don't hang out much,"@@ you say, watching Vincent carefully. @@.vincent;"Why not?"@@ Vincent hesitates, his fingers tightening slightly around his coffee cup. For a moment, it looks like he might deflect, but then he exhales, staring down at the table like hes trying to find the right words written somewhere in the wood grain. @@.vincent;"It's not like I don't want to,"@@ he admits, voice quieter now. @@.vincent;"It's just... I don't know. I guess I'm not very //good// at it."@@ You tilt your head. @@.player;"At... what? Having friends?"@@ @@.vincent;"Kind of,"@@ he says, rubbing the back of his neck. @@.vincent;"I mean, I have friends, technically. But they're more like—"@@ He pauses, frowning slightly. @@.vincent;"You ever have people in your life that you just sort of orbit around? Like, you're there, you exist in the same space, but you're not really important to each other?"@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ @@.vincent;"Well, that's me,"@@ Vincent says, a little too matter-of-factly. @@.vincent;"I'm around, but I'm never in things, you know? Like, I'll be part of a group project, or I'll sit around with people at lunch sometimes, but if I just... stopped showing up, I don't think anyone would really notice."@@ There's no bitterness in the way he says it, just quiet acceptance. You frown. @@.player;"That's not true."@@ Vincent shrugs. @@.vincent;"I mean, it kind of is? And it's fine. It's not like people are mean to me or anything. I just—I don't know. It always feels like I'm a guest in other people's friend groups, like I'm only there because it's convenient and not because anyone actually wants me there."@@ You watch him carefully. He's not fishing for pity. If anything, he's trying to downplay it, to make it seem like it doesn't really bother him. But you can tell—it does. @@.vincent;"That's why I like books,"@@ Vincent continues, tapping a finger against his empty cup. @@.vincent;"You don't have to figure out where you fit. You just //do//. The story doesn't care if you're awkward or if you say the wrong thing. You don't have to try with books."@@ His voice stays light, like he's just stating a fact, but you can sense something raw beneath it. You don't try to fix it though. You decide to just //listen//. @@.player;"That makes sense."@@ Vincent blinks, like he was expecting you to argue. @@.vincent;"It does?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I mean, books //are// better than most people."@@ That gets a small, genuine laugh out of him. @@.vincent;"Right?"@@ The tension in his shoulders eases a little, and he leans back in his chair, exhaling. @@.vincent;"I don't hate people, though,"@@ he adds after a moment. @@.vincent;"I just... I don't know. I think I try too hard, and it never works, so then I just feel like an idiot."@@ He shakes his head. @@.vincent;"I always think, like—maybe if I say the right thing, or act a certain way, people will actually like me."@@ @@.player;"You don't have to do that,"@@ you say simply. Vincent pauses. @@.player;"I mean, you're doing fine right now,"@@ you point out. @@.player;"I'm here, aren't I?"@@ Vincent blinks at you, and for the first time, he looks genuinely caught off guard. @@.vincent;"That's different,"@@ he mutters, like he doesn't quite know how to process that statement. @@.vincent;"You're—you're, you know. //You//."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Great explanation, Vinny. Crystal clear."@@ Vincent groans, shaking his head. @@.vincent;"Shut up. You //know// what I mean."@@ You smirk, but you let him have that one. Vincent finishes off the last sip of coffee, setting the empty c up down with a soft thunk. He glances toward the library, thoughtful. @@.vincent;"You wanna go look at some books?"@@ he asks. @@.vincent;"I mean, you //did// come all the way here. Feels like a waste if we don't at least browse."@@ It's an easy excuse, but it's also an invitation. A way to stretch this out just a little longer. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, pushing your chair back. @@.player;"Let's go."@@ <<elseif $d14vincentchoice2 is 2>>\ You tilt your head, watching Vincent thoughtfully. @@.player;"Okay, serious question—what's something you love that has //nothing// to do with books?"@@ Vincent blinks, caught off guard. @@.vincent;"Uh."@@ He hesitates, fingers tightening around his coffee cup like you just asked him a complex philosophical question. His foot bounces lightly under the table, and you can //see// his brain short-circuiting as he tries to come up with an answer. @@.vincent;"Uhhhhh,"@@ he says again, dragging the sound out like it might magically summon a response. You smirk. @@.player;"That hard of a question?"@@ @@.vincent;"It //is//!"@@ Vincent insists, waving a hand like he's trying to physically push the question away. @@.vincent;"I mean, it's not like I only read, but—"@@ He stops, then groans, dragging a hand down his face. @@.vincent;"Apparently, liking nerdy stuff is just my entire personality now,"@@ he mutters. He shoots you a look, then glances vaguely upward, like he's addressing someone else entirely. @@.vincent;"I guess someone thought to just make Vincent the walking encyclopedia and call it a day."@@ You blink. @@.player;"...Who are you talking to?"@@ @@.vincent;"No one,"@@ Vincent says, taking a long sip of coffee. @@.vincent;"Absolutely no one."@@ @@.player;"Well, there's got to be something,"@@ you say, amused. @@.player;"Like, do you play an instrument? Cook? Are you secretly an amazing athlete?"@@ Vincent snorts. @@.vincent;"Absolutely not an athlete. I once nearly dislocated my shoulder trying to do a pull-up in gym class."@@ @@.player;"How?"@@ @@.vincent;"I don't know!"@@ Vincent exclaims, exasperated. @@.vincent;"I think my body just wasn't built for sports. Like, physically and philosophically incompatible."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Okay, fine, so no sports. What else?"@@ Vincent frowns, staring at the table like he's digging deep into his soul for an answer. Then, after a long moment, he lets out a breath and mutters, almost like he doesn't want you to hear it— @@.vincent;"...I like baking."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Baking?"@@ you repeat, making sure you heard him right. Vincent rubs the back of his neck, looking vaguely embarrassed. @@.vincent;"Yeah. It's, uh, relaxing."@@ @@.player;"So, you—Vincent, the guy who practically lives in the library—spend all your free time making cookies and cakes?"@@ @@.vincent;"Not //all// my free time,"@@ Vincent mutters, looking away. @@.vincent;"It's just... nice. It's one of the only things where my brain actually shuts up for a while, you know? I get to do something with my hands, and I don't have to analyze or overthink it. Plus, food is science! Chemistry. Precision. There's a method to it. It's like following a formula, except at the end, you get cake instead of a math problem."@@ You stare at him for a second, then shake your head with a grin. @@.player;"I honestly can't decide if this is nerdier than your usual stuff or not."@@ Vincent sighs, shaking his head dramatically. @@.vincent;"This is why I don't tell people things."@@ @@.player;"Hey, I love this,"@@ you say, still grinning. @@.player;"You went full Aristotle on coffee earlier, but now you're just out here making brownies in your free time?"@@ Vincent huffs. @@.vincent;"Well, when you say it like //that//, it sounds weird."@@ @@.player;"It's not weird,"@@ you assure him. @@.player;"It's just unexpected. In a good way."@@ Vincent watches you for a second before shaking his head. @@.vincent;"Well, there goes my entire carefully curated ''mysterious library dweller'' image."@@ @@.player;"You never had that image."@@ @@.vincent;"$name, let me pretend,"@@ Vincent groans, finishing the last sip of his coffee before setting the empty cup aside. Still amused, you stand up as he does, watching as he glances back toward the main library. @@.vincent;"Anyway,"@@ he says, stretching slightly. @@.vincent;"I should stop being a person and go back to being a nerd. Wanna head back to the shelves? I was looking at a few more books earlier, but I got distracted."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, let's go,"@@ you say, nodding. <</if>>\ <<button "Browse the shelves" "Day 14 - Vincent 6">><</button>>

The two of you slip back into the main part of the library, the café's warmth fading into the cool, hushed stillness of the book-lined aisles. The space feels different now—less like a study hall and more like a secret world waiting to be explored. The scent of old paper and ink lingers in the air, wrapping around you like a well-worn sweater. Vincent moves through the aisles, his fingers occasionally grazing the spines of books as he walks, like he's greeting old friends. He doesn't hesitate, doesn't scan titles at random. He knows exactly where he's going. @@.vincent;"You ever get the feeling that libraries are just... better than the real world?"@@ he muses. You smirk. @@.player;"Is that your way of saying you'd rather live in one?"@@ @@.vincent;"Obviously,"@@ Vincent says, like it's the most natural answer in the world. @@.vincent;"Think about it. No loud crowds, no awkward small talk, no pressure to be cool—just unlimited books, free coffee refills, and maybe the occasional cat wandering around."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"You've really thought this through."@@ @@.vincent;"Of course I have,"@@ he says, then stops in front of a shelf. @@.vincent;"Okay. You, $name, need a book."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Do I?"@@ Vincent gives you a look. @@.vincent;"Yes. You came to a library, and I'm //not// letting you leave without a book."@@ He scans the shelf with the practiced ease of someone who's spent far too many hours doing this. His eyes dart from title to title before he suddenly stops, plucks a book off the shelf, and turns to you, holding it out like an offering. @@.player;"//The Perks of Being a Wallflower?//"@@ you read off the cover, glancing at him. @@.player;"You think this is my vibe?"@@ Vincent shrugs. @@.vincent;"It's a good read. Easy but actually meaningful. Plus, it's got that whole //figuring yourself out while being slightly emotionally wrecked// thing going for it, which—"@@ He gestures vaguely at you. @@.vincent;"Seems like something you'd relate to."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Wow. Way to call me out."@@ @@.vincent;"Am I wrong?"@@ Vincent says, grinning. You roll your eyes. @@.player;"You better be right about this."@@ Vincent crosses his arms. @@.vincent;"If I'm wrong, you can publicly shame me in the middle of the library next time."@@ @@.player;"Deal."@@ The two of you wander to the front, neither of you in a hurry to leave but both knowing the hangout is winding down. There's a quiet comfort in the moment, an understanding that lingers without needing to be spoken aloud. Vincent adjusts the strap of his bag, glancing at you as you reach the entrance. @@.vincent;"This was nice,"@@ he says hesitantly, like the words feel foreign in his mouth. @@.vincent;"We should—"@@ He stops himself, then clears his throat. @@.vincent;"You know. Do it again sometime."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Did you just //almost// ask me to hang out?"@@ Vincent groans. @@.vincent;"I //did// ask you to hang out, don't make it weird."@@ You chuckle, tucking the book under your arm. @@.player;"Alright, alright. Yeah, let's do this again."@@ Vincent nods, looking oddly satisfied. @@.vincent;"Good."@@ And with that, he gives you a small wave before heading off in his own direction, disappearing between the towering bookshelves like he was always meant to be there. You glance down at the book in your hands, flipping it open to the first page before stepping out of the library. <<button "Finish up" "Day 14 - 3">><</button>>

<<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "D14Vincent">>\ The walk to ''Crestview Bay Public Library'' is peaceful, the Sunday afternoon air cool and breezy. The part of town with the library is still, like it belongs to another time entirely. The buildings are older, brick facades worn but well-kept, and the streetlamps flicker faintly in the early evening light. The library isn't exactly the most exciting way to spend an afternoon, but when Vincent asked if you wanted to go, something about the way he worded it—hesitant but hopeful—made it hard to say no. The entrance doors creak slightly as you step inside, the faint hum of the air conditioning mixing with the occasional rustle of pages and muffled whispers. The front desk librarian gives you a polite nod, not bothering to ask if you need help. People don't usually come here unless they know exactly what they're looking for. You scan the area, looking for Vincent. He hadn't given you a lot of details in his text—just that he'd be here, something about checking out a new book that just came in. Typical Vincent. Always wrapped up in a book, always eager to share whatever obscure fact or literary analysis was currently taking up space in his brain. It doesn't take long for you to spot him. He's sitting near the back of the library, tucked away at a small wooden table between two towering shelves. His posture is hunched slightly, completely absorbed in the book in front of him, his fingers twitching faintly as he absentmindedly traces the edges of the page. A half-finished iced coffee sits to his left and a stack of neatly arranged notes sits to his right. His backpack—overstuffed with papers, pens, and probably even more books—rests against the leg of his chair. Vincent doesn't notice you at first. His eyes flick rapidly across the page, his lips parted slightly like he's on the verge of whispering the words to himself. Every so often, he reaches for his pen and jots something down in the notebook beside him, his handwriting neat and precise, like he's organizing his thoughts mid-sentence. You hesitate for a second, watching him. There's something endearing about how completely lost in his own world he is, like nothing outside of this moment exists. His foot bounces under the table in that absentminded way people do when they're fully engrossed in something. And the best part is he hasn't noticed you at all. You stand there for a moment, debating how to get his attention. If you say something too loud, he might jump. If you touch his shoulder, he might actually //die// from shock. If you wait too long, though, you'll just look like some weirdo hovering over him in the middle of the library. Yeah, you should probably say something. <<button "Say something light and playful" "Day 14 - Vincent 1">>\<<set $d14vincentchoice0 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D14_vincent_choice_0" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Say something curious and direct" "Day 14 - Vincent 1">>\<<set $d14vincentchoice0 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D14_vincent_choice_0" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Say something dramatic and over-the-top" "Day 14 - Vincent 1">>\<<set $d14vincentchoice0 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D14_vincent_choice_0" 2 "story">><</button>>

<<if $d14MNXC0 is 0>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender - 10, 0, 100)>>\ Your mouth opens, but the words don't come out right away. You can feel them there, waiting, pressing against the back of your throat, but saying them out loud seems impossible. Your mom watches you, her expression patient but unwavering. She's waiting for your answer, and you can't tell if that makes it easier or harder. You inhale, steadying yourself. @@.player;"I think I do."@@ Your mom doesn't react right away, so you continue. @@.player;"I don't know if I //should// like it,"@@ you admit quietly. @@.player;"But I do. At least... parts of it."@@ You shift, letting your gaze fall to the floor. @@.player;"At first, it freaked me out. It was all happening so fast, and I—I thought I'd wake up one day and just not recognize myself at all. But the weird thing about all this is that that didn't happen. Every time I looked in the mirror, I still felt like me. That's what scared me the most, it didn't feel wrong."@@ @@.player;"It should feel wrong, right?"@@ you ask, glancing up at her and searching her face. @@.player;"I should want to fight this. I should want to fix it. But every time I change, I don't feel like I'm losing myself. If anything, it feels like I'm getting closer to something I never let myself think about before."@@ Your hands tremble. Your mom doesn't say anything. Not yet. She just listens, her expression softening—not in pity or confusion, but in understanding. @@.player;"I keep thinking about what I was before all this happened. I don't think I was unhappy, but I was... uncomfortable."@@ You frown, the pieces clicking together now. @@.player;"Like something was always a little off, but I never really knew why. And now? I don't know if this is the answer, but for the first time, I don't feel uncomfortable in my own skin."@@ @@.player;"I don't know what the hell that means. I don't know if it means anything. But the idea of just... going back, undoing everything, pretending like none of this ever happened..."@@ You swallow hard, feeling your throat tighten. @@.player;"That scares me more than anything else."@@ You exhale shakily before forcing yourself to meet your mom's gaze again. @@.player;"Is that bad?"@@ Your mom watches you carefully, her expression softer. She's still searching though, as if she's trying to make sense of everything you've just said. @@.girl;"You've been carrying this alone your whole life, haven't you?"@@ she says quietly. You don't answer right away. You don't //need// to. She already knows. @@.girl;"Listen,"@@ she states, sighing. @@.girl;"I don't care if this is magic, or something else entirely—I just care about ''you''. And if this... if these changes make you feel more like yourself, then that's not a bad thing. You haven't done anything wrong, $name. There's nothing to apologize for."@@ @@.player;"I don't even know what 'myself' means right now,"@@ you whisper. @@.girl;"And you don't have to,"@@ she says simply. @@.girl;"Not yet. You'll figure it out at your own pace. And I'll be here, however this shakes out. You know that, right?"@@ You nod. She lets out a quiet sigh, rubbing her temple. @@.girl;"Alright. We don't have to talk about all of this right now. It's late, and you look exhausted."@@ She gestures toward the hallway. @@.girl;"Go get some sleep, okay? We can figure this out as we go."@@ Somehow, your mom's words make it easier to breathe. <<elseif $d14MNXC0 is 1>>\ You open your mouth to answer, but the words don't come. Do you //like// the way the $referto is changing you? You want to say no—that of course you don't, that this is just something happening to you, something out of your control. You want to say you're just trying to get through this, trying to fix it. That's what you ''should'' say. But that isn't the truth. @@.player;"I... don't know,"@@ you admit, voice quieter than you intended. You swallow, looking down at your hands. @@.player;"I really don't know."@@ Your mom doesn't interrupt. She just lets you speak. You take a shaky breath. @@.player;"I mean, it's //weird//. Something always feels different. Some of it's small, barely noticeable. Some of it's—//not//."@@ Your fingers twitch slightly. @@.player;"And I keep telling myself that I should hate it. That I should be fighting against it. But then I catch myself in the mirror and I just—"@@ You hesitate, searching for the right words. @@.player;"—I don't know how to feel about it."@@ Your mom stays quiet, but she's listening. @@.player;"It's like... part of me wants to hate it,"@@ you continue, your voice uneven. @@.player;"Because if I //do// hate it, then there's no question, right? If I hate it, then I have to stop it. I should be looking for a way to fix it. That would make everything simple. But it's //not// simple. It's confusing. It's frustrating. And the worst part is sometimes, I'll catch myself thinking... what if this isn't a bad thing?"@@ Saying it out loud makes your stomach twist. @@.player;"I don't know what that means,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I don't know if my brain is just trying to make sense out of an impossible situation, or if this is something I've always felt and I just never let myself think about it before. And I don't even know if I want to know."@@ You shake your head, exhaling. @@.player;"I just don't know."@@ You finally look back up at your mom but she hasn't moved. She slowly leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. And without hesitation, she reaches out, placing a steady hand over yours. @@.girl;"You don't have to have all the answers right now,"@@ she says, voice low but firm. @@.girl;"You don't have to figure this all tonight. Or tomorrow. Or even next week."@@ She squeezes your hand gently. @@.girl;"You just have to give yourself permission to feel what you feel. And no matter what that ends up being... I'm here. I will always be here."@@ You've been struggling for two weeks. You've been unsure of what to say, unsure if saying anything would even help. But now, sitting here in the dim glow of the living room, your mom's hand steady over yours, you feel something loosen inside you. After a moment, she lets out a small sigh. @@.girl;"You must be exhausted."@@ You nod, because yeah. You are exhausted. She gives your hand one last squeeze before finally letting go, her voice still quiet when she says. @@.girl;"Go get some sleep, sweetheart."@@ As you stand and quietly make your way to your room, you can still feel your mom's gaze lingering on you. She's making sure you know she's here. <<elseif $d14MNXC0 is 2>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender + 10, 0, 100)>>\ Your breath catches in your throat. For a moment, you can't say anything. The words get stuck, heavy, tangled, and unwilling to come out. You want to ignore the question—to pretend you didn't hear it, to pretend you don't have to answer. But your mom is sitting there and waiting with that unrelenting patience she always has when she knows you're holding something back. You let yourself be completely honest. @@.player;"No."@@ Your voice comes out rough, like it hurts to say it. @@.player;"I don't like it. I just want to be ''me'' again."@@ Your mom doesn't react right away. She doesn't rush in with reassurances, doesn't tell you you're wrong, doesn't try to force you into seeing things differently. She just listens. So you keep going. @@.player;"I didn't ask for this,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"I didn't do anything to deserve it. And now every time I do something—anything—it feels like I'm walking on a tightrope, like I have to be careful about how I move, how I act, and what I say because I don't know what's going to happen next. I feel like I'm slipping away from myself, and I don't know how to stop it."@@ Your voice cracks slightly at the end, but you don't bother trying to cover it up. Your mom's expression shifts. A flicker of something deep and aching in her eyes, like it physically hurts her to hear you say that. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ she whispers. @@.girl;"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"@@ You let out a humorless laugh. @@.player;"What was I supposed to say? 'Hey Mom, I'm cursed and turning into a girl and it's super terrifying'?"@@ @@.girl;"Yes,"@@ she says without any hesitation. @@.girl;"Because that's something I should know."@@ You shake your head, looking away. @@.player;"I thought I could handle it. That if I just ignored it, maybe it would go away. But it's not going away. And I—I don't want this. I don't want to change anymore. I just want to be me again."@@ Silence settles between you. Your mom exhales and rubs her hands together as she processes everything you've just said. She doesn't rush to fill the quiet—she just sits with it, with you, letting the weight of it all settle. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she finally says. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, studying you with that same unwavering gaze. @@.girl;"We'll figure it out. But not tonight. Go get some rest, $name. We'll talk more about this later."@@ Your mom watches you for a little longer before standing up and heading toward the hallway. She pauses just before she disappears around the corner, glancing back at you. @@.girl;"I love you, son."@@ You manage a small nod. <</if>>\ <<button "Bedtime" "Day 14 - 5">><</button>>

<<if $d14MNXC0 is 0>>\ <<if $d14MNXC1 is 0>>\ You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. @@.player;"I need help figuring this out."@@ Your mom watches you carefully before nodding. @@.girl;"Okay."@@ It's such a simple word, but something in your chest loosens at hearing it. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ @@.player;"I don't even know where to start,"@@ you admit, running a hand through your hair. @@.player;"I've been trying to handle it on my own, but the more things change, the harder it is to ignore. And the thing is... I don't know if I //want// it to stop. But I don't know where it's leading either, and that scares me as well."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I don't even know where to start,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I've been trying to just—deal with it on my own. But the more time passes, the harder that gets. I don't know if this is going to stop or if it's just going to go until I don't even recognize myself anymore."@@ <</if>>\ Your voice wavers at the end, but you push through it. Your mom presses her lips together, her brows furrowing slightly. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, voice firm. @@.girl;"First things first—you don't have to do this alone. I don't care what kind of magic this is, we're going to figure it out //together//."@@ The word //together// sticks with you. @@.girl;"You said this started at the Autumn Festival?"@@ she asks. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Madame Serena cursed me after I recorded her. And things started changing after that."@@ @@.girl;"We'll look at every possibility,"@@ your mom declares. @@.girl;"If there's a way to stop this, to //help// you, we'll find it."@@ You hadn't realized how much you needed to hear that. She exhales sitting back slightly. @@.girl;"You're exhausted,"@@ she says, matter-of-factly. @@.girl;"We can talk more in the morning. But $name—"@@ Her voice softens. @@.girl;"Don't keep things like this from me again. I know you didn't want me to worry, but that's not how this works. No matter what happens, I want to know."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Okay."@@ She watches you for another moment before letting out a small sigh. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she murmurs. @@.girl;"Go get some sleep."@@ You walk to your room feeling a little less alone in all this. <<elseif $d14MNXC1 is 1>>\ You swallow as the weight of your mom's gaze presses against you, full of concern and worry. But the truth is, you don't know what to do. And you're not sure if she can help, even if she wants to. You exhale slowly. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"But I'll handle it."@@ Your mom sits up straighter. @@.girl;"$name—"@@ @@.player;"I mean it,"@@ you cut in gently. @@.player;"I've been dealing with it on my own until now. It's weird, yeah, but I //am// handling it."@@ You hesitate, then add, @@.player;"I didn't want you to worry. That's why I didn't tell you."@@ She lets out a breath that's a mix of exasperation and disbelief. @@.girl;"$name—you tell me now, after two weeks, and you don't want me to worry?"@@ You awkwardly rub the back of your neck. @@.player;"That was kind of a dumb thing to do, huh?"@@ @@.girl;"I //am// worried,"@@ your mom says, shaking her head. @@.girl;"You don't have to pretend this isn't a big deal just to make me feel better."@@ You shift on your feet, unsure how to respond. She watches you a little longer before leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, her voice calmer but no less serious. @@.girl;"if you say you've got it handled, I won't push. But I //am// going to ask questions. And if you need help..."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you say. @@.girl;"Good,"@@ she nods. The conversation lingers between you for a moment, heavy but settled. It's not perfect and you can tell she wants to do more, but she's choosing to trust you. @@.girl;"Go get some sleep, $name,"@@ she says, rubbing her temples. You nod. @@.player;"Night, Mom."@@ You turn toward the stairs, then, finally, just as you reach the hallway, you hear her murmur: @@.girl;"Goodnight, sweetheart."@@ You pause, just for a second, then keep walking. The house is quiet again, but it feels much lighter than before. <<elseif $d14MNXC1 is 2>>\ Your mom's question hangs in the air, waiting—What do we do now? The weight of everything presses against your chest as you shift on your feet. You could ask for help. You could try to figure out a plan. But right now, that's not what you need. @@.player;"Honestly, I just needed you to know,"@@ you say. Her expression softens. She exhales slowly, absorbing your words, before nodding. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says. You let out a breath of relief. @@.girl;"You look exhausted,"@@ she murmurs. @@.girl;"Go get some sleep."@@ She's not dismissing you. She just wants to make sure she doesn't overwhelm you. You nod, the exhaustion catching up to you all at once. @@.player;"Yeah... okay."@@ You move toward the stairs, but as you're about to start climbing, your mom speaks again—softer this time. @@.girl;"$name?"@@ You pause, turning back. @@.girl;"I love you."@@ You swallow. @@.player;"I know."@@ And then, without another word, you head upstairs. The house is still quiet, but it doesn't feel so heavy anymore. The weight of your secret has finally been set down—at least a little. You step into your room, close the door behind you, and let yourself breathe. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d14MNXC0 is 1>>\ <<if $d14MNXC1 is 0>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You meet her eyes, steady and unwavering, and force the words out as smoothly as you can. @@.player;"Nothing's wrong."@@ The lie sits heavy on your tongue, but you don't let it show. You keep everything perfectly controlled. You've lied before, but this is different. This isn't a little lie. This is a wall, built brick by brick between you and the truth. Your mom studies you. For a few unbearable seconds, she says nothing. Then, slowly, she exhales, leaning back in her chair. @@.girl;"Alright."@@ You almost don't believe she's letting it go. But then she crosses her arms. @@.girl;"If you say nothing's wrong, I'll believe you. But you should know something, $name."@@ She doesn't sound angry or even frustrated. Just... tired. @@.girl;"I don't care what it is. I really don't. If you need help, if something is happening to you—you can tell me."@@ Her voice is quiet but firm, carrying a certainty she's always had, the kind that makes it clear that no matter what's going on, she wants to be on your side. @@.player;"I know,"@@ you say. She studies you for another second, like she's waiting for something else. But you don't give her anything. Finally, she stands up. @@.girl;"Go get some sleep. We'll talk later."@@ It's not a win. You haven't convinced her—just bought yourself some time. She's still watching, still waiting. But for now, the conversation is over. You nod, murmuring a quick goodbye before heading toward your room, your lie weighing heavily on your shoulders. <<elseif $d14MNXC1 is 1>>\ You hesitate. Lying outright won't work. Not with your mom. She knows you too well, sees through you too easily. But telling her the whole truth? About magic, about the $referto, about how you transform every time you do something feminine? That's not an option either. So you settle for something in between. You exhale, letting your gaze flicker toward the floor before you force yourself to meet her eyes. @@.player;"it's just... I've been changing a little,"@@ you admit, keeping your voice careful. @@.player;"I don't know why."@@ Your mom's expression doesn't shift right away. She stays still, studying you, weighing your words like she's trying to decide whether to believe them. Whether to believe ''you''. @@.girl;"You don't know why,"@@ she repeats. You shake your head. @@.player;"I swear, Mom, I don't. I've just been feeling weird. And, yeah, I guess I look different, but it's not like I planned for it to happen."@@ That part, at the very least, is true. You didn't plan for any of this. Your mom exhales, her arms unfolding just slightly. The sharpness in her posture softens. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ she says gently, @@.girl;"if something's wrong, if you're feeling off, you ''need'' to tell me. We can figure it out together."@@ You swallow. @@.player;"I know."@@ She watches you for another long moment, her lips pressing into a thin line. @@.girl;"Okay then,"@@ she says finally. @@.girl;"I'm not going to push you. Not tonight."@@ Relief washes over you, but it doesn't last long. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ @@.girl;"But this conversation isn't over,"@@ she continues firmly. @@.girl;"I don't know what's going on, and apparently, neither do you. But you don't have to deal with it alone. Whatever this is, you're still my child. That's not going to change."@@ <<else>>\ @@.girl;"But this conversation isn't over,"@@ she continues firmly. @@.girl;"I don't know what's going on, and apparently, neither do you. But you don't have to deal with it alone. Whatever this is, you're still my son. That's not going to change."@@ <</if>>\ You nod. @@.player;"I get it."@@ For a second, it looks like she might say more, might press just a little further. But then, she sighs, rubbing at her temple. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she murmurs. @@.girl;"Go get some sleep. We'll talk more later."@@ You don't argue. You just nod again, turning toward the stairs. As you make your way up, the conversation lingers in your head. She didn't push much, but it's clear that she's not letting it go. You know that sooner or later, you're going to have to figure out how much of the truth you're willing to tell. <<elseif $d14MNXC1 is 2>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ The air in the room feels heavy. Your mom is still watching you, waiting—//expecting// something. But you don't have an answer she'll believe. Not one that makes sense. Not one you're willing to give. So you shut it down. @@.player;"I don't want to talk about this."@@ Your voice is steady, but there's an edge to it, sharper than you intended. You don't mean for it to sound harsh, but it does. Your mom straightens slightly, her expression unreadable. For a second, you think she's going to push again—press until you //have// to give her something—but she doesn't. Instead, she exhales, slow and measured, and nods once. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says. That's it. No argument, no lecture, no demands. Just alright. But the way she says it makes something twist in your chest. You walk toward the stairs, and your mom lets you. As you reach the steps, you hear her shift in her chair, settling back into the dimly lit silence of the living room. The house is still quiet, but now it feels different—heavier. Like something important just slipped through the cracks. And you're not sure if that's a good thing or not. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d14MNXC0 is 2>>\ <<if $d14MNXC1 is 0>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ Your mom is still looking at you, waiting—maybe even hoping—that you'll give her something. But you won't. @@.player;"There's nothing to understand. Just drop it."@@ The words come out cold, clipped, final. Your mom's lips part slightly, like she wants to argue, to reach for something that might make you listen. But then, just as quickly, she presses them into a thin line. Her expression shifts, the concern in her eyes dimming. It gets replaced with something smaller. Something hurt. She looks at you for another moment, searching, as if she's trying to find the version of you she recognizes—the one she's always known. But whatever she sees now, it isn't enough. Slowly, she exhales, then leans back in her chair. Her posture isn't tense anymore and it's clear she's no longer ready to fight you on this. @@.girl;"...Alright,"@@ she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. @@.girl;"If that's how you want it."@@ It //should// feel like a victory. But it doesn't. It feels like the space between you just got wider, like the house itself suddenly feels emptier. She doesn't say anything else. Doesn't tell you goodnight and to stay warm. She just sits there, looking down at her hands in her lap, expression unreadable. You swallow hard, your throat dry, your heart pounding uncomfortably in your chest. You could say something. You could take it back. But instead, you turn toward the stairs, leaving the room. As you ascend, the weight of your mom's unsaid words follow you, lingering in the air around you. <<elseif $d14MNXC1 is 1>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ Your whole body feels tense, like a live wire ready to snap. Your mom is still looking at you—waiting, expecting—like there's some right answer you're supposed to give. Like she just needs you to let her in, and everything will be fine. But it's not fine. @@.player;"I don't ''want'' to talk about it, okay?"@@ The words come out hard, sharp, and edged with something close to desperation. Louder than you meant. More forceful than you wanted. Your mom flinches—not dramatically, but enough. Just enough for you to see it. She recovers quickly, schooling her expression, but the hurt is still there. Her lips press together, and she sits back slightly, hands tightening where they rest on her arms. For a moment, neither of you say anything. You exhale harshly, turning away, your pulse still hammering at your temples. You don't even want to see how she reacts, don't want to deal with the look that'll be in her eyes. The silence stretches for far too long. Finally, your mom exhales, slow and measured. @@.girl;"Okay."@@ Not angry, but resigned. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she repeats, and something about the way she says it makes your stomach twist. You don't turn around. @@.girl;"You should get some sleep,"@@ she says, her voice steadier now, like she's forcing herself back into control. @@.girl;"We'll talk later."@@ You nod stiffly, not trusting yourself to speak. And just like that, the conversation is over. You move toward the stairs, bouquet still clenched tightly in your hands. You can feel her watching you as you go, like she wants to say something, like she wants to reach for you, but doesn't. You don't stop. You don't look back. The moment you step into your room and close the door behind you, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Your chest is tight and your hands are shaking. You got out of that conversation, sure, but it doesn't feel like a win. <<elseif $d14MNXC1 is 2>> Your heart still pounds in your chest, every instinct telling you to push back harder, to shut this down completely. To keep this yours. But your mom isn't fighting you. She isn't demanding anything. She's just waiting patiently for you to tell her the answer to all her questions. You swallow hard, staring at the floor, and after a long moment, you force out the words before you can stop yourself. @@.player;"I... I don't know how to explain it."@@ It's not the full truth, sure, but it's not a lie either. It's all you can give her right now. Your mom exhales slowly, like she's letting go of something she was holding onto too tightly. When you finally look up at her, her expression has softened, but there's still something in her eyes—something tired and hurt. Not because she's angry, but because she knows you're keeping something from her. How can she help if you won't let her in? But she nods, just once. Accepting the little you're willing to offer. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says, relenting. @@.girl;"I won't push you."@@ You feel a knot of tension unravel in your chest. @@.girl;"But,"@@ she continues, her gaze steady, @@.girl;"you know you can talk to me, right? About anything?"@@ You hesitate. Then finally, you nod. You don't know if you mean it, but it's what she needs to hear right now. She studies you a little longer, searching for something in your face that you're not sure she finds, then leans back in her chair with a sigh. @@.girl;"Go get some sleep, $name."@@ Relief crashes over you like a wave. You don't say anything else, opting to just turn and make your way upstairs. As you close your bedroom door, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. For now, the conversation is over. But you know this isn't the last time you'll have it. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Bedtime" "Day 14 - 5">><</button>>

<<if $d14MNXC0 is 0>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $momKnow to true>>\ For a moment, you consider lying. Telling your mom that she's imagining things. But looking at her now—at the quiet determination in her eyes, the way she's bracing herself for whatever you're about to say—you realize there's no avoiding this. So you exhale, steading yourself. @@.player;"Mom..."@@ Your voice comes out quieter than you intended, like it's resisting the weight of the words. @@.player;"Something happened to me."@@ Your mom doesn't move, but you can see the way her shoulders tense, how she holds her breath as she waits. @@.player;"I don't know how to explain it,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"I don't even know where to start, but... it's real."@@ You gesture vaguely at yourself, at your softer features. @@.player;"This isn't just some weird phase. It's not hormones or diet or—I don't know—something explainable. It's //real//. And I don't know how to stop it."@@ Your mom's brows furrow, concern settling deeper into her expression. @@.girl;"What do you mean, you don't know how to stop it?"@@ @@.player;"It started at the Autumn Festival,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"Two weeks go. When I passed out. Someone put a $referto on me."@@ Your mom blinks. @@.girl;"A $referto?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, letting out an awkward chuckle. @@.player;"I know how it sounds. But I swear I'm not lying. The fortune teller there did something to me. She looked right at me, said something cryptic about the 'mirror revealing my truth,' and ever since then..."@@ You gesture at yourself again. @@.player;"Every time I do anything remotely feminine, I change a little more."@@ Your mom doesn't react immediately. She just stares at you, her expression unreadable. You feel the silence settle between you, thick and heavy. Your heart pounds. You're not sure what you expected, but she's just taking in everything you've just said. And then, finally, she exhales. @@.girl;"You're serious."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ She leans back in her chair, rubbing her temples. @@.girl;"A $referto,"@@ she murmurs, more to herself than to you. @@.girl;"This is actually happening."@@ You shift on your feet. @@.player;"You don't believe me."@@ She looks up immediately. @@.girl;"I believe you."@@ The certainty in her voice catches you off guard. @@.girl;"I'll admit I don't know if I understand it yet, but I believe you."@@ That makes your chest feel lighter. Your mom exhales again, shaking her head slightly like she's trying to wrap her mind around it. @@.girl;"And you waited two weeks to tell me?"@@ she asks, gaze sharpening. You wince. @@.player;"I mean, what was I supposed to say?"@@ you ask, trying to justify yourself. @@.player;"'Hey, Mom, I got magically cursed and now I'm changing?'"@@ She gives you a look, one that clearly says that would've been preferable. You sigh. @@.player;"I was scared. And I—I didn't know how to explain it. I still don't."@@ She studies you again, something unreadable in her gaze. Then, finally, she nods. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Alright. What do we do now?"@@ <<button "I need help figuring this out" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O 1">>\<<set $d14MNXC1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "I don't know... but I'll handle it" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O 1">>\<<set $d14MNXC1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "I just needed you to know" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O 1">>\<<set $d14MNXC1 to 2>>\<</button>> <<elseif $d14MNXC0 is 1>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ Your pulse hammers against your ribs. The weight of her gaze is unbearable—too sharp, too knowing. You can't tell her. You //can't//. So you do the only thing you can think of. You deflect. @@.girl;"I don't know what you're talking about,"@@ you say, forcing a tired sigh as you shift your weight. @@.player;"I'm just tired."@@ Your voice comes out steady—casual, even. You keep your expression neutral and your posture loose, like none of this is a big deal. Like you don't notice what she's noticing. Like there's nothing to notice at all. But your mom doesn't buy it. She doesn't even blink, holding eye contact. The room stays heavy with unsaid words. She isn't angry—she never gets angry over things like this—but the concern in her face deepens. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ she says again, softer this time. @@.girl;"This isn't just you being tired."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"Mom, seriously, I'm fine. It's just school. Stress building up. You know how it is."@@ She exhales slowly and presses her lips together. @@.girl;"Stress doesn't change the way a person looks."@@ The last part cuts through the air like a blade. You clench your jaw, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of yourself—your softened features and the androgynous way you stand in the dim light. She sees it. She's waiting for you to give her something that makes sense. And for a moment, just a brief one, you think she might let it go. But then, she tilts her head and watches you in that way only moms can. @@.girl;"If you're fine,"@@ she states slowly, @@.girl;"then look me in the eye and tell me nothing is wrong."@@ Your breath catches. She's backing you into a corner where you'll have to either double down and tell her the truth. Or you could say something else. Something that doesn't tell the whole truth, but at least keeps you from outright lying. Or maybe... you should just walk away. <<button "Look her in the eye and lie" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O 1">>\<<set $d14MNXC1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Give her half the truth" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O 1">>\<<set $d14MNXC1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "End the conversation" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O 1">>\<<set $d14MNXC1 to 2>>\<</button>> <<elseif $d14MNXC0 is 2>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest as every muscle in your body tenses like a coiled spring. @@.player;"Why are you making this such a big deal?"@@ you spit out. @@.player;"I'm fine."@@ The words come out sharper than you intended, but you don't back down. You ''can't''. If you let this conversation happen, you don't know what's going to come out. Your mom's brows knit together, and for a second, she just watches you. Not in an accusatory way, not angry, but in that piercing way only a mother can. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ she says carefully, @@.girl;"you are not fine."@@ You exhale sharply, shaking your head. @@.player;"Mom, come on—"@@ @@.girl;"Don't do that,"@@ she cuts in, leaning forward slightly. @@.girl;"Don't try and brush this off like it's nothing. Like I don't see you."@@ You clench your jaw and look away. @@.girl;"I know you,"@@ she continues, tone unwavering. @@.girl;"I know how you stand, how you walk, how your face looks in the morning, how your voice sounds when you're lying. And I //know// when you're trying to push me away."@@ She exhales. @@.girl;"I need you to talk to me."@@ But you don't listen. You shake your head, frustration bubbling over. @@.player;"Mom, like I said, there's ''nothing'' to talk about!"@@ You gesture vaguely at yourself, at the room, at everything. @@.player;"I don't get why you're acting like this is some huge emergency. I'm //fine//, I'm just—"@@ You falter, realizing that you don't even have a decent lie to follow that up with. Your mom doesn't flinch, doesn't look away. @@.girl;"No one changes like this overnight, $name. And I know you know that."@@ The lump in your throat feels heavier now, like it's trying to choke you from the inside out. @@.player;"You don't know what you're talking about."@@ The words snap out of you before you can stop them, harsher than you meant, but you don't take them back. If you start letting her in now—if you crack, even for a second—you don't know what's going to spill out. Your mom's expression doesn't change. You almost wish she would get angry, that she would yell back. That would be easier. You know how to handle anger. But this? This quiet, steady insistence? The way she looks at you, not with judgment, but with concern—like she already knows something is deeply wrong, and she won't let you pretend otherwise? It's unbearable. @@.girl;"I //do// know what I'm talking about,"@@ she says, unyielding. @@.girl;"I know my child. And I know when he's lying to me."@@ You grit your teeth, fists clenched at your sides. @@.player;"I'm not lying."@@ She shakes her head. @@.girl;"Then explain it. Explain why you look different. Do you think I wouldn't notice? That I wouldn't see how much you've changed?"@@ @@.player;"I haven't changed!"@@ The words burst out of you, too fast, too desperate, and for the first time, your mom's face shifts—just slightly, just enough for something to flicker behind her eyes. You realize, too late, that you've already lost. Because you have changed. And you both know it. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, anger and panic twisting together into something messy. It's not fair. None of this is fair. You didn't ask for this, but some part of you wonders if you did—if maybe, deep down, you've always been walking toward this without realizing it. And now you're standing here, caught in the open, having to face questions you're not even sure you're ready to ask yourself—let alone answer for someone else. <<else>>\ Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, anger and panic twisting together into something messy. It's not fair. None of this is fair. You didn't ask for this, you didn't want this, and now, somehow, you're standing there, having to justify your own existence to someone who's supposed to just accept it. <</if>>\ She doesn't look away. @@.girl;"$name."@@ Her voice is softer now, but that doesn't help. It only makes you feel ''worse''. @@.player;"You're acting like I've done something wrong,"@@ you mutter, jaw tight. @@.player;"Like I—like I'm some problem that has to be fixed."@@ Your mom's expression twists into something close to pain. @@.girl;"That's not what this is."@@ @@.player;"Then what is it?"@@ She hesitates. Not because she doesn't know, but because she's choosing her words carefully. Finally, she exhales. @@.girl;"I just want to understand."@@ You know she means it. You can tell. She's not accusing you or trying to control you. She's //worried//. And for all your frustration, all your defensiveness, some part of you know that's not unreasonable. But that doesn't mean you're ready to talk.  <<button "Dig in your heels" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O 1">>\<<set $d14MNXC1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Let some anger slip" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O 1">>\<<set $d14MNXC1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Give her something" "Day 14 - Mom X Fem O 1">>\<<set $d14MNXC1 to 2>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d14MNXC0 is 0>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ Your first instinct is to deflect, to brush it off, to say it's nothing—but looking at your mom now, you know that won't work. She knows something is wrong and is worried. You sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. @@.player;"You're right."@@ The words come out quieter than you expected. @@.player;"Something else is going on."@@ Your mom doesn't look relieved—if anything, her expression tightens, like she's bracing for whatever comes next. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"So talk to me."@@ You hesitate, pulse picking up. You can't tell her everything, not yet. But you can tell her something. @@.player;"It's just..."@@ You exhale, looking down at your hands. @@.player;"I've been dealing with something. And I didn't know how to tell you, so I didn't. I figured I could handle it on my own, but it's been harder than I thought."@@ Her brows furrow, concern setting deep into her features. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ she says, gentler now. @@.girl;"You //know// you don't have to handle things alone, right?"@@ You nod automatically, your mind answering before your mind catches up. You do know that. And yet, for the past two weeks, you've been trying to do things by yourself. Your mom studies you carefully, debating whether to push for more. But then she sighs, shaking her head. @@.girl;"Alright. You don't have to tell me everything right now. But you do need to promise me something."@@ You glance up. @@.player;"What?"@@ Her voice is steady. @@.girl;"Don't shut me out. Whatever this is—whatever you're dealing with—I don't want to find out two weeks from now that it's gotten worse. You don't have to tell me everything right now, but when you're ready... Please let me help."@@ You nod. She watches you a little longer before sitting back in her chair, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. @@.girl;"Alright."@@ A small sigh. @@.girl;"Go get some rest. We'll talk more when you're ready."@@ As you head to your room, you know one thing for sure: She is not going to stop paying attention. <<elseif $d14MNXC0 is 1>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You force yourself to shrug, keeping a neutral expression. @@.player;"I've just been busy, I guess."@@ Your mom doesn't look convinced. if anything, her frown deepens. @@.girl;"Busy?"@@ she repeats like she's testing the word out. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, trying to make it sound casual. @@.player;"School, friends, just... stuff. I didn't think I needed to check in with you all the time."@@ Your mom exhales slowly, pressing her lips together. She is ''not'' buying it. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ she says, voice level but firm. @@.girl;"I //know// you. And I know when you're keeping something from me."@@ You keep your face as blank as possible. She studies for you, searching for a crack. For a second, you think she might push harder, press until she forces the truth out of you. But then, finally, she exhales and sits back. @@.girl;"Fine,"@@ she states. @@.girl;"If you don't want to talk, I won't make you. But I'm not stupid, $name. And I'm not going to stop paying attention."@@ That makes your stomach twist. She lets the words hang in the air for a little longer before pushing herself up from the chair. @@.girl;"Go get some sleep,"@@ she says quietly. @@.girl;"You look like you need it."@@ And with that, she walks past you, leaving the conversation unfinished. <<elseif $d14MNXC0 is 2>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ Your jaw tightens. @@.player;"Why do you suddenly care where I go."@@ Your mom's expression doesn't change, but something sharpens in her eyes. @@.girl;"Don't say that."@@ Her voice is calm, but there's an edge to it now—one that makes it clear she's not going to let you push her away that easily. @@.girl;"You know I care. I //always// care."@@ @@.player;"Then why are you acting like I've done something wrong?"@@ you snap. @@.girl;"Because you won't talk to me!"@@ she says, frustration creeping into her voice. @@.girl;"You disappear for hours, avoid me when you're home, and I'm supposed to just not ask questions?"@@ @@.player;"It's not like you ever cared before,"@@ you mutter. @@.girl;"Excuse me?"@@ You regret the words the second they escape your lips, but it's too late to take them back. Your mom straightens slightly. @@.girl;"I //always// care, $name,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"//Always//. But I also know when to give you space. And for the last two weeks, I've been trying to let you come to me on your own. But you haven't. And I'm done waiting."@@ You don't respond. You opt to look away, jaw clenched. For a moment, it's dead silent. The air between you is heavy—thick with unspoken words. Finally, your mom sighs, rubbing a hand down her face. @@.girl;"Fine,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"I won't force you to talk if you don't want to. But don't pretend I don't care. And don't think for a second that I'm just going to stop noticing when something's wrong."@@ She pushes herself up from the chair, watches you for a moment, and then walks past you. A door clicks shut down the hall. You sit there, staring at the empty space she left behind, the house silent around you. <</if>>\ <<button "Bedtime" "Day 14 - 5">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> <<set $day to 8>>\ You walk out of your house, backpack slung over one shoulder, and spot Luke waiting for you at the corner. He glances at you and \ \ <<if $friendsKnow is true>>\ <<if ($feminineLooks > 39) or (($breastsProg > 1) and ($bind is false))>>\ his eyes widen. @@.luke;"$name, how are you going to hide what you look like at school?"@@ Luke asks, his mouth agape. @@.player;"Guess I can't anymore,"@@ you murmur, sighing as you look at yourself. @@.player;"Guess we'll see how people react at school. I expect a lot of rumors to fly around."@@ @@.luke;"Well, that's to be expected,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"You look really androgynous now."@@ @@.player;"I suppose the rumor mill at school will have a field day with me,"@@ you chuckle, trying to mask your nervousness. <<else>>\ gives you a nod. @@.luke;"Glad to see the curse didn't mess with you too much over the weekend."@@ <<if $d7dreamOffer is true>>\ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur, unsure why you feel a little disappointed that you haven't changed much. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Thank God,"@@ you let out a sigh of relief and smile. You're glad you haven't changed too much. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 8 - Luke">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<if ($feminineLooks > 39) or (($breastsProg > 1) and ($bind is false))>>\ <<set $friendsKnow to true>> his eyes widen. @@.luke;"$name, why the hell do you look like that?"@@ Luke asks, his mouth agape. @@.luke;"You look so feminine."@@ You haven't told your friends about the \ \ <<if $d7dreamOffer is true>>\ spell \ <<else>>\ curse \ <</if>>\ \ but you've changed significantly enough for Luke to notice. You realize that at this point, there's no point in hiding it anymore. There's no good excuse you could make anyway. <<if $d7dreamOffer is true>>\ @@.player;"It's this spell that's been put on me,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Let me tell you the whole story."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"It's this stupid fucking curse,"@@ you complain, your voice venomous. @@.player;"Let me tell you the whole story."@@ <</if>>\ You quickly explain about Madame Serena and everything that's happened the past week. Luke seems conflicted, not believing in magic but also finding it impossible to deny the changes he sees with his very own eyes. @@.luke;"That's insane man, shit,"@@ Luke says, shaking his head as he tries to process what you just said. @@.player;"Tell me about it,"@@ you respond, chuckling. @@.luke;"So you're slowly turning into a girl,"@@ Luke repeats what you told him. @@.luke;"I'm sorry that's happening to you, man."@@ <<if $d7dreamOffer is true>>\ @@.player;"It's okay, there's nothing I can do about it anyway,"@@ you say. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Thanks, I can't help but wish there was a way to reverse it,"@@ you say. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 8 - Luke">><</button>> <<else>>\ gives you a nod. @@.luke;"Good to see you as always, man."@@ You haven't told your friends about the \ \ <<if $d7dreamOffer is true>>\ spell \ <<else>>\ curse \ <</if>>\ \ and you haven't changed significantly enough for Luke to notice. <<button "Continue" "Day 8 - 2">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $top to 0>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ You make your way into your room, collapsing onto your bed. You have no idea how you made it through the last class of the day after gym. After spending some time relaxing, you make your way to your desk. The soft hum of your computer fills the room as you settle into your chair. You think of studying, but shake your head. You aren't in the mood to study <<if $study > 79>>\ at the moment. <<else>>\ as always. <</if>>\ The glow of the monitor illuminates your face as you scroll through the library of games you have. On one hand, you can play //Critter Crossing//, a lighthearted life-simulation game. In it, you can build a cute little village, decorate homes, and chat with quirky townspeople. On the other hand, you can play //Need of Arms//, which promises an adrenaline rush. It's a gritty, first-person shooter where the stakes are high. You hesitate, letting your fingers tap rhythmically on the surface of your desk. What kind of distraction do you want today? <<button "Play Critter Crossing" "Day 8 - 11">>\<<set $d8game to true>>\<<trackChoice "D8_play_game" "critter crossing" "story">><</button>> <<button "Play Need of Arms" "Day 8 - 11">>\<<set $d8game to false>>\<<trackChoice "D8_play_game" "need of arms" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<if $d8game is true>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You decide to play //Critter Crossing//, clicking on the icon on your desktop. You watch as the cheerful, pastel-colored loading screen pops up. The game's familiar theme music plays, and you realize it's been a very long time since you've played. A moment later, your avatar appears on the screen. The town is just as you left it: a collection of cozy homes, blooming flowerbeds, and a well-decorated town square. Weeds are growing, though, and your poor villagers all have a frown on their face. You can't help but feel a little bad that you neglected them for so long. @@.player;"Ah, sorry,"@@ you mutter to yourself, half-laughing as you guide your character toward some weeds. One of the villagers, a snooty flamingo named Ruby, waddles up to you with a pout. You click on her to chat and her dialogue bubble pops up. @@.girl;"$name! I thought you disappeared forever!"@@ the poor flamingo says. @@.girl;"I was about to declare your house haunted. You owe me a snack for making me worry so much!"@@ You chuckle and gift Ruby a peach to make amends. Over the next hour, you find yourself entirely immersed in your own little world. You dig up fossils, fish in the river, and rearrange furniture. There's something soothing about organizing this tiny, perfect world when your real life is so chaotic. <<if $femininity > 14>>\ As you work, you notice your own preferences subtly influencing the game. You choose softer colors for furniture and plant bright flowers around the town square. It's a far cry from the dark aesthetic you used to favor. <<else>>\ As you work, you notice your preferences are the same as always. The dark, rugged aesthetic you always go for still looks nice, and you find yourself matching it the best you can. <</if>>\ Before you can think too deeply about it, another villager interrupts your musings. This time, it's a smug cat named Maurice walking up to you with a thought bubble above his head. You click on him to see what he has to say. <<if $femininity > 14>>\ @@.boy;"You look different these days, kid,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"A little softer around the edges. I guess I like it, though. Makes the place feel brighter."@@ You freeze for a moment. The words hit a little too close to home. You brush it off with a chuckle, although you can't stop thinking about it. \ <<else>>\ @@.boy;"You're doing the same as always, kid,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"It's good to have you back. Don't leave us again, if you can."@@ You smile, feeling bad that you left these little critters alone for so long. You gift him an apple, and Maurice is very pleased. \ <</if>>\ \ By the time you log off, the town is looking happy again. You're glad you spent this time playing //Critter Crossing//. As you shut off your computer and stand back up, you feel a familiar tingling coursing through your entire body. <<set $nextScene to "Day 8 - Critter Crossing">> <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You decide to play //Need of Arms//, clicking on the icon on your desktop. The screen flashes with the game's gritty title sequence: an army of soldiers charging through a desolate battlefield. The heavy soundtrack kicks in, and you feel a familiar rush of adrenaline. This is what you need—something intense to drown out your thoughts. The game loads, and you see your avatar; an armored operative decked out in the most advanced tactical gear the military had to offer. You take a moment to tweak your loadout, adding a few new mods to your rifle and looking at the newly added weapons. Everything feels precise and controlled. You join a match, and within seconds, you're dropped into the Chaos of //Urban Descent//, one of the game's infamous maps. The game is fast-paced and brutal, and you kill player after player. The intensity pulls you into the moment, leaving no room for any worries. Thoughts about your appearance and the $referto has no place in your mind. <<if $femininity > 14>>\ Or at least, that's what you tell yourself. As the match drags on, you start to notice something gnawing at the back of your mind. You feel different playing the familiar game, for whatever reason. You shake your head and try to focus on the game. A shot comes out of nowhere and you die, ruining your kill streak. You try and tell yourself that this is ''your'' game. You finish the game in third place though, and let out a loud sigh. Maybe, as much as you hate to admit it, you're starting to change in ways that even //Need of Arms// can't shield you from. <<else>>\ You continue dominating, racking up kills and increasing your kill streak. As the game ends, you finish in first place. You pump your fist excitedly. It seems that //Need of Arms// was always there for you, no matter what. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 8 - 12">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ As you pull the blankets up to your chin, you feel a warm and tingly feeling throughout your body. Your eyes widen—were you going to transform? But then you realize it's something else. Not transformation... //arousal//. It's been a while since you've masturbated, not really having had time to think about your sexual needs. School, your social life, and most importantly, the $referto, have left you no time to really touch yourself. <<button "Masturbate" "Day 8 - Masturbation">>\<<set $d8masturbate to true>>\<<trackChoice "D8_masturbate" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Tough it Out" "Day 8 - 13">>\<<set $d8masturbate to false>>\<<trackChoice "D8_masturbate" false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ You pull the blankets up to your chin, exhausted after the long day you had. <div class="note">This passage is meant for the adult scene. The text is so short because you have your preference for adult content set to none.</div>\ <<button "Go to sleep" "Day 8 - 13">>\<<set $d8masturbate to false>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $nude to 0>>\ <img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<if $d8masturbate is true>>\ You get yourself cleaned up in the shower, paying special attention to your private parts. After making sure everything's as clean as can be, you head back to your room and lie in bed. <</if>>\ Your eyelids grow heavier as the day winds down. You can barely keep them open as you shift into a comfortable position. The pillow is cool but the blankets are warm, a perfect night. You close your eyes and let your thoughts fade into nothing. <<button "Continue" "Day 9 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> @@.luke;"I can't believe it's finally here,"@@ Luke says, a wide smile on his face as he changes the conversation topic. @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask, confused. @@.luke;"Seriously?"@@ Luke asks, shooting you a look of mock offense. @@.luke;"Football season! The first game's this Friday."@@ @@.player;"Oh, right,"@@ you say with a small laugh. @@.player;"How could I forget?"@@ @@.luke;"Anyway, Friday's going to be insane, I swear,"@@ Luke enthuses. @@.luke;"You're coming to the game, right? It's home turf, so everyone's going to be there."@@ @@.player;"I'll see,"@@ you say, not committing to anything yet. @@.luke;"Come on, you have to come,"@@ Luke smiles. @@.luke;"School spirit, remember? Go, Pacific Crest Panthers!"@@ @@.player;"I'll think about it,"@@ you respond. \ <<if $athleticism < 60>>\ You didn't even know the rules of football, due to your lack of athleticism. You wonder if you should go, you hope it'll be fun even if you don't know much. <<else>>\ You do know the rules of football and how it's played, but you're unsure if you should go. <</if>>\ <<button "Go to homeroom" "Day 8 - 3">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> <<set $jessicaKnow to false>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 19>>\ <<set $d8rumors to true>>\ You walk into homeroom, and everyone's eyes trace you as you make your way to your seat. @@.jessica;"Hey, $name,"@@ Jessica says, seeming concerned. She pulls over a chair and sits in front of your desk. @@.jessica;"The rumor mill has been going crazy about you, what's going on?"@@ @@.player;"Huh, what do you mean?"@@ you ask, heart beating in your chest. @@.jessica;"What do I mean? Look at you! You @@\ \ <<if $breastsProg > 1 and $bind is false>>\ @@.jessica;have boobs. Like boobs! On your body! You're a guy, $name. How the hell do you have boobs?"@@ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>>\ @@.jessica;look androgynous! You do not look like how you looked a week ago."@@ <<else>>\ @@.jessica;look much more feminine! You do not look like how you looked a week ago.@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Oh, about that,"@@ you chuckle, awkwardly trying to make up an excuse. You expected this to happen, but didn't expect gossip to spread as quickly as it did. @@.player;"Would you believe me if I said I just woke up like this one morning?"@@ @@.jessica;"Oh my God, I'm not stupid,"@@ Jessica rubs her temples as she tries to calm herself. @@.jessica;"That is ''not'' something that happens naturally. Your facial features are completely different."@@ @@.player;"Erm,"@@ you try your best to stall for time, your mind racing for an excuse. @@.jessica;"Look, $name, I'll be honest with you,"@@ Jessica's face morphs into a mask of seriousness. @@.jessica;"You can either tell me what's going on and have me help you calm down the rumors or have the gossip go rampant. I'm your ally here, not your enemy. Come on, we're homeroom partners, aren't we?"@@ <<button "Get Jessica's help" "Day 8 - Jessica Help">>\<<set $d8jessicaHelp to true>>\<<trackChoice "D8_jessica_rumor_help" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't get Jessica's help" "Day 8 - 4">>\<<set $d8jessicaHelp to false>>\<<trackChoice "D8_jessica_rumor_help" false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $d8rumors to false>>\ You walk into homeroom, and nobody looks up from their phones and computers. You make your way to your desk and sit down, ready for another ordinary day of school. <<button "Continue" "Day 8 - 4">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src = "img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> <<if $d8jessicaHelp is true>>\ You walk back into homeroom and to your seat, sitting down. You take out your phone and browse your socials until Ms. Carter walks in. <<else>>\ <<if $feminineLooks > 19>>\ @@.player;"Sorry, I think I want to handle this on my own,"@@ you say to Jessica. @@.jessica;"Well, that's fair,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Just don't come back to me if the rumors spiral out of control."@@ You take out your phone and browse your socials until Ms. Carter walks in. <<else>>\ You take out your phone and browse your socials until Ms. Carter walks in. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ @@.girl;"Hello, my beautiful homeroom students,"@@ Ms. Carter greets, a wide smile on her face. @@.girl;"I hope you all had a fantastic weekend. The back-to-school party was great too, raise your arm if you attended."@@ Everyone raises their arm into the air, \ <<if $d5party is true>>\ including you. <<else>>\ except for you. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"Okay, hands back down,"@@ Ms. Carter says, as everyone's hand shoots back down. @@.girl;"So, there's nothing too exciting for today. Your clubs are on Wednesday, we'll be adding to the personal reflection journey on Thursday, and Friday will be the start of the football season here at Pacific Crest High. For Monday and Tuesday, though, we really don't have anything to do."@@ Everyone seems to perk up as the chances of this homeroom just being free time increases. @@.girl;"That is why for today, we will be creating a themed bulletin board for the classroom."@@ Everyone's shoulders slump. @@.girl;"The theme is //What Inspires Us//,"@@ Ms. Carter says, ignoring how devastated the class looks. She gestures to some bins with colorful paper, scissors, markers, tape, and more art supplies. @@.girl;"Go with your homeroom partner and get working!"@@ @@.jessica;"Okay, so we're focusing on something that inspires us,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"What inspires you, $name?"@@ <<button "My family" "Day 8 - 5">>\<<set $d8bulletin to true>>\<</button>> <<button "My friends" "Day 8 - 5">>\<<set $d8bulletin to false>>\<</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> <<if $d8bulletin is true>>\ @@.player;"My family,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"They're not perfect, and we have issues like every family does, but at the end of the day, we're family."@@ @@.jessica;"That's nice,"@@ Jessica says, her face falling a little. She quickly recovers her cheery attitude though. @@.jessica;"That's a good thing to write about for the bulletin board."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"My friends,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Luke and Samantha are always there for me, you know? I know they'll always have my back."@@ @@.jessica;"Sounds like a solid crew,"@@ Jessica says, a smirk on her face. @@.jessica;"That's a good thing to write about for the bulletin board."@@ <</if>>\ You make a simple but heartfelt contribution. You create a hand-drawn picture with a short message to your \ <<if $d8bulletin is true>>\ family. "Through every high and low, my family has been my anchor. They remind me who I am and who I want to be." <<else>>\ friends. "My friends are my strength. With them, I can face anything life throws at me." <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"I like it,"@@ Jessica says as she glances at your work. @@.jessica;"What do you think about mine?"@@ Jessica has a motivational quote, along with a Polaroid of her and the cheer squad. @@.player;"Yours is pretty awesome too,"@@ you chuckle. By the end of homeroom, the bulletin board is filled with colorful and inspiring contributions. Ms. Carter stands back and admires all your work. @@.girl;"This looks amazing, everyone,"@@ Ms. Carter says. @@.girl;"You've all done a great job expressing yourselves."@@ You find yourself looking at your own contribution, feeling a quiet sense of pride. You're glad that at the end of the day, you still have people who stick by you. <<if ($feminineLooks > 39) or (($breastsProg > 1) and ($bind is false))>>\ <<button "Go to class" "Day 8 - Carter">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Go to class" "Day 8 - 6">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> <<if $d7dreamOffer is true>>\ <<set $referto to "spell">> <<else>>\ <<set $referto to "curse">> <</if>>\ \ After the first two classes of the day, you sit down at your usual table with Luke and Samantha. \ \ <<if $friendsKnow is true>>\ At this point, your friends know about what happened to you. <<else>>\ At this point, your friends still don't know about what happened to you. <</if>>\ <<if $d8rumors is true>>\ <<if $d8jessicaPlan is true>>\ There are some whispers and people glancing at you, but you're able to brush it off. You look around the cafeteria and see Jessica. She did help more than you expected—the rumors would probably be worse otherwise. <<else>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity - 10, 0, 100)>>\ The sounds of gossip and the glances everyone takes at you are overwhelming. You look around the cafeteria and see Jessica. Rejecting her help has made the rumors grow and mutate. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ @@.luke;"So, I'm expecting everyone to come to the football game this Friday,"@@ Luke says, a confident smirk on his face. @@.samantha;"Ew, wipe that creepy smile off your face,"@@ Samantha says, scrunching her nose in disgust. @@.samantha;"Everyone would go to the football game for Jordan, not you."@@ @@.luke;"What?"@@ Luke feigns offense. @@.luke;"I'm better than him."@@ @@.samantha;"In your dreams,"@@ Samantha can't help but giggle and roll her eyes. Your two best friends continue bantering but their voices slowly fade into the background. All you can hear is the sound of your own thoughts bouncing around your head. You can't help but think about the $referto and what Madame Serena said yesterday. @@.luke;"$name?"@@ You snap back to reality. @@.luke;"Are you alright, $name?"@@ Luke asks, concern etched on his face. @@.luke;"Samantha and I've been calling out to you for a while."@@ <<if $friendsKnow is true>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, I was just thinking about the $referto."@@ you murmur. <<if $d8rumors is true>>\ @@.samantha;"The $referto?"@@ Samantha asks. @@.samantha;"Like the rumors or the $referto itself?"@@ <<if $acceptance > 14>>\ @@.player;"The rumors,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It bothers me that people are gossiping about me."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, Pacific Crest is like that,"@@ Samantha gives you a sympathetic look. @@.samantha;"The rumor mill works fast though, by next week they'll be talking about drama or something."@@ @@.luke;"Know we've got your back, $name,"@@ Luke leans forward. @@.luke;"If anyone gives you trouble, just tell me."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"The $referto,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It bothers me that I'm becoming more feminine."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, I'd be horrified if I were in your shoes,"@@ Samantha gives you a sympathetic look. @@.samantha;"I hope you figure something out."@@ @@.luke;"Know we've got your back, $name,"@@ Luke leans forward. @@.luke;"If you need any help, just tell me."@@ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ @@.samantha;"Yeah, that sounds tough,"@@ Samantha says, sighing. @@.samantha;"I'm sorry that happened."@@ <<if $acceptance > 14>>\ @@.player;"It's not too bad,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I just can't help but think about it a lot."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Thanks, I don't like what's happening to me,"@@ you say. <</if>>\ @@.luke;"Know we've got your back, $name,"@@ Luke leans forward. @@.luke;"If you need any help, just tell me."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Thanks, guys,"@@ you chuckle despite yourself. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, I'm fine,"@@ you say, quickly recovering your composure. @@.player;"I was just thinking about something."@@ @@.samantha;"Something?"@@ Samantha asks, raising her eyebrows. @@.player;"It's nothing important,"@@ you chuckle, trying to change the topic. <</if>>\ @@.samantha;"Anyway, this food is ass,"@@ Samantha almost retches as she picks at the pasta that's dryer than the Sahara. You return to your usual conversation, bantering until the lunch bell rings. <<button "Go to gym class" "Day 8 - 7">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-locker.png"> You walk into the crowded locker room, immediately being hit with the scent of old sweat and disinfectant. The hum of conversation and clatter of lockers fill the air as your peers mill around, changing into their gym kits and chatting. You make your way over to your locker, and see Vincent rummaging around the locker next to you. He glances up at you as you approach, a small grin spreading across his face. <<if $d8rumors is true>>\ @@.vincent;"Hey, $name,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"Are you alright? Even I've heard a lot of rumors about you, and I'm usually out of the loop."@@ <<if $d8jessicaPlan is true>>\ @@.player;"Well, I've done all I could to calm the rumors,"@@ you respond, shrugging. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Well, nothing I can do about it now,"@@ you respond, shrugging. <</if>>\ @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ Vincent says, trying to think of what to say. @@.vincent;"Well, we're friends, so let me know if you need to talk."@@ @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you can't help but smile, glad to have people supporting you. @@.player;"I appreciate it."@@ <<if $breastsProg > 1 and $bind is false>>\ @@.vincent;"But, uhh, I'm doing my best to ignore the rumors, but,"@@ Vincent glances at your chest awkwardly. @@.vincent;"How do you have... those?"@@ @@.player;"It's complicated,"@@ you murmur. You knew that this would happen since you didn't bind, but it was still a pain. @@.vincent;"Oh, I won't probe then,"@@ Vincent says, although it's clear he's very curious. <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ As you shift your body, your shirt brushes against your nipples in an awkward way. You have to hold back a moan as your new erogenous zones explode in pleasure. @@.vincent;"What was that, $name?"@@ Vincent asks, concern etched on his face. @@.player;"Oh, nothing,"@@ you say, your face burning bright red. You can't believe your nipples are this sensitive. <</if>>\ <<elseif $bind is true>>\ You wince, the fabric binding your chest hurts you as it digs into your ribs. The dull ache in your chest was growing sharper, radiating with every breath. You shift uncomfortably, putting a hand under your armpit as you try and adjust the towel around your chest. @@.vincent;"Are you alright, $name?"@@ Vincent's voice cuts through the ambient chatter of the locker room. @@.player;"I'm fine,"@@ you lie quickly. @@.vincent;"You look tense, I'm just worried,"@@ Vincent frowns, a look of concern on his face. <<elseif $breastsProg is 1>>\ Your breasts aren't noticeable enough that they affect you, but they are growing and make your chest sensitive. \ \ <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ You shift your body, and your shirt twists in an awkward way. You have to hold back a moan as your shirt brushes against your nipples. @@.vincent;"What was that, $name?"@@ Vincent asks, concern etched on his face. @@.player;"Oh, nothing,"@@ you say, turning bright red. It would embarrass you to no end to admit that you moaned a little. @@.vincent;"Oh, alright,"@@ Vincent murmurs. @@.vincent;"Just heard a weird sound from you."@@ <<else>>\ You shake your head and try to ignore it. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You don't have any breasts yet, so it's not a concern in the slightest. You look down at your chest and \ \ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ feel a little disappointed by the lack of weight there. <<else>>\ feel fine with the lack of weight there. <</if>>\ @@.vincent;"Are you alright, $name?"@@ Vincent asks. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm fine, why?"@@ you respond quickly, looking back up. @@.vincent;"Oh, you were just looking down for a while,"@@ Vincent murmurs. <</if>>\ You pull out your gym kit from your backpack and freeze. You hold up the top and athletic shorts and realize that you're going to have to change. You quickly glance at the restroom, where there are a few stalls where you could change in privacy. You could also stay and change in the locker room, although that could be awkward. <<else>>\ @@.vincent;"Hey, $name,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"How are you doing today?"@@ @@.player;"I'm fine,"@@ you respond, shrugging. @@.player;"Just doing the same as always."@@ @@.vincent;"Good to hear,"@@ Vincent smiles widely. You pull out your gym kit from your backpack and get ready to change. Although you haven't transformed much from the $referto, you could go to the restroom and change in a stall for privacy. <</if>>\ <<button "Change in a restroom stall" "Day 8 - Change (Restroom)">>\<<set $d8changehide to true>>\<<trackChoice "D8_gym_clothes_change" "restroom" "story">><</button>> <<button "Change in the locker room" "Day 8 - Change (Locker)">>\<<set $d8changehide to false>>\<<trackChoice "D8_gym_clothes_change" "locker" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gymd.png"> <<set $top to 10>>\ <<set $pants to 7>>\ @@.girl;"Welcome to another day of P.E.,"@@ Coach Blake says. @@.girl;"How is everyone doing?"@@ There are a few grunts. @@.girl;"Well, that's why we have gym!"@@ Coach Blake enthuses, trying to get the class excited. @@.girl;"To get everybody energetic and those dopamines flowing!"@@ Nobody seems particularly excited. @@.vincent;"I don't see why we have to take physical education for four years,"@@ Vincent whispers. @@.vincent;"That time could be better spent on another AP class."@@ <<if $study > 79>>\ @@.player;"I know right?"@@ you say. @@.player;"Studying is much more important."@@ @@.vincent;"Exactly!"@@ Vincent smiles. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Not everyone is a brainiac like you, Vincent."@@ @@.vincent;"I-I'm not a brainiac!"@@ Vincent says, blushing bright red. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"First, we'll be starting with ten laps around the basketball court,"@@ Coach Blake announces, interrupting your conversation. @@.girl;"Let's go, everyone!"@@ Coach Blake turns on some horrible upbeat music that she thinks will motivate you, and forces everyone to start running. You begin running, and everything is smooth sailing\ \ <<if $breastsProg > 1>>\ <<if $bind is true>>\ until you realize just how uncomfortable the binding is. Walking around with the towel pressing down on your chest was bad enough, but running around the field had you on the verge of passing out. You're grabbing onto your ribs and your breaths come in short, shallow bursts. Each step sends a sharp twinge of pain radiating across your chest. @@.girl;"$name, over here,"@@ Coach Blake's voice cuts through the haze of discomfort. @@.girl;"Now!"@@ You wince but make your way to her, your legs heavy and chest heaving. @@.player;"Yes, coach?"@@ you murmur. @@.girl;"What's going on?"@@ your coach asks, clearly concerned. @@.player;"Nothing, I'm just out of breath,"@@ you say, avoiding her gaze. Coach Blake raises her eyebrows, unconvinced by your terrible lie. She motions for you to follow her to the side of the gym, away from the other students. @@.girl;"Don't lie to me, Yoon,"@@ Coach Blake says firmly. @@.girl;"I've been a teacher long enough to know when someone's pushing through something they shouldn't be. What's going on with your chest?"@@ You freeze, your heart racing for another reason now. You hesitate, tugging the hem of your shirt as you try to think of a way to deflect. @@.girl;"Look, I'm not here to judge,"@@ she says, softening her tone. @@.girl;"But I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth, $name."@@ @@.player;"I've got something wrapped around my chest,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"To flatten it."@@ @@.girl;"Binding?"@@ your coach asks, a mix of concern and understanding crossing her face. You nod, unable to meet her eyes. Coach Blake sighs, resting her hands on her hips. @@.girl;"I understand why you might feel like you need to do that, but running laps when bound? It's dangerous. You could seriously hurt yourself."@@ @@.player;"I don't know what else to do,"@@ you mumble, your face burning with shame. @@.girl;"First, we need to get you out of this,"@@ she begins. @@.girl;"Go to the locker room, loosen whatever you have around your chest, and take a breather. Second, if this is something you're going to keep doing, you need the right gear. Wrapping yourself up with fabric is dangerous. I'll help you figure out how to get something safer. There are options."@@ You look up at her, surprised. @@.player;"You'd help me?"@@ @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ the coach gives you a small, reassuring smile. @@.girl;"My job is to help you succeed, and that means making sure you're healthy."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Coach Blake,"@@ you say, feeling relieved. @@.girl;"Go on now,"@@ she says, waving you off. @@.girl;"Take care of yourself."@@ You jog off to the locker room, still aching but grateful that Coach Blake was so accepting. <<button "Catch your breath" "Day 8 - Blake">><</button>> <<else>>\ until you realize just how uncomfortable your breasts are. The sensation of your chest moving uncomfortably with every step is impossible to ignore. Without any kind of support, your breasts feel awkward and heavy. You tug your shirt, trying to make it sit better against your body, but the fabric clung to you from the sweat. @@.girl;"$name, over here,"@@ Coach Blake's voice cuts through the haze of discomfort. @@.girl;"Now!"@@ You hesitate, but know there's no avoiding it. You jog over to her, your face burning with embarrassment. @@.girl;"What's going on?"@@ your coach asks, clearly concerned. @@.player;"Nothing, I'm just out of breath,"@@ you say, avoiding her gaze. Coach Blake raises her eyebrows, unconvinced by your terrible lie. She motions for you to follow her to the side of the gym, away from the other students. @@.girl;"Don't lie to me, Yoon,"@@ Coach Blake says firmly. @@.girl;"I've been a teacher long enough to know when someone's uncomfortable. You're stiff, out of rhythm, and you're holding your chest like you're in pain. Are you alright?"@@ @@.player;"They're just sore,"@@ you whisper, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. @@.player;"When I run, I mean."@@ Coach Blake blinks, processing your words. Her expression softens immediately as she nods. @@.girl;"Got it,"@@ she says, her voice calm and understanding. @@.girl;"You need some support."@@ @@.player;"Support?"@@ you ask, your head snapping up. @@.girl;"Yes, support,"@@ she says, gesturing vaguely to her own chest. @@.girl;"It's nothing to be ashamed of. It happens to plenty of athletes, especially if things are new for you. A good sports bra makes a world of difference. You'd feel way more comfortable running."@@ Your face turns bright red as you realize what she just said. @@.player;"A bra?"@@ you repeat. @@.girl;"It's just about practicality,"@@ Coach Blake says with a small smile. @@.girl;"I know it's not something you're used to, but trust me, it's better than being miserable out here."@@ @@.player;"I wouldn't even know where to start,"@@ you admit. @@.girl;"Well, I can help,"@@ your coach says, her tone becoming reassuring. @@.girl;"We can figure out something that works for you. Something simple, no frills whatsoever. Just what you need to move comfortably. Don't worry, it doesn't need to be a big deal."@@ @@.player;"You'd really help me with this?"@@ you ask, glancing at her. You're unsure about the bra, but you're grateful for her lack of judgment. @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"My job is to make sure you can train safely and confidently. That's what I'm here for. Alright, no more laps for now. Go to the locker room and take a breather, I'll be there soon."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Coach Blake,"@@ you say, feeling relieved. @@.girl;"Go on now,"@@ she says, waving you off. @@.girl;"Take care of yourself."@@ You jog off to the locker room, grateful that Coach Blake was so accepting. <<button "Catch your breath" "Day 8 - Blake">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<elseif $hairProg > 1 and $hairStyle is 0>>\ until the school's air conditioning keeps blowing strands of hair into your face. You huff in frustration, brushing it aside, but it's no use. Every few steps, it's there again—sticking to your forehead, whipping against your cheeks, and even getting caught in your mouth once or twice. @@.girl;"$name, over here,"@@ Coach Blake's voice cut through the air. @@.girl;"Now!"@@ You make your way over to her, relieved that your hair isn't getting in your face. @@.girl;"You know, $name,"@@ Coach Blake calls out. @@.girl;"You've been fighting your hair more than the laps."@@ You glance at her sheepishly, wiping some sweat from your brow. @@.player;"It's just long. I haven't figured out what to do with it yet."@@ @@.girl;"I can see that,"@@ she says with a small smile. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a simple hair tie, holding it out to you. @@.girl;"Here. Tie it back."@@ <<if $d7hairsister is undefined>>\ @@.player;"I've never really done that before,"@@ you say, hesitating as you stare at the hair tie in her hand. @@.girl;"Never?"@@ she asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.girl;"Alright, no problem. Come here—I'll show you how."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I'm a little unsure, I've only done it a few times,"@@ you say, hesitating as you stare at the hair tie in her hand. @@.girl;"You really should practice,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"I'll do it for you today, but if you have long hair, tying it back should be like instinct."@@ <</if>>\ She gestures for you to turn around, and you oblige. @@.girl;"All you have to do is pull your hair back like this,"@@ she explains, sweeping it into a loose bundle at the back of your head. @@.girl;"Then you twist the hair tie around it, like so. It doesn't need to be perfect, just enough to keep it out of your face."@@ When she's done, you reach back and feel the neat ponytail she made. It's strange, but you have to admit, it's much better than the alternative of hair sticking to your skin. @@.player;"This is better,"@@ you say, glancing at her gratefully. @@.girl;"Good,"@@ Coach Blake says, a smile on her face. @@.girl;"You can keep the hair tie—it's a spare. But if you need help again, please don't be afraid to ask."@@ You nod, feeling a little more confident. Sure, it's just a hair tie, but somehow it feels like a step toward making things more manageable. <<set $hairStyle to 1>>\ <<set $hairtie to 1>>\ <<button "Continue with P.E." "Day 8 - 9">><</button>> <<else>>\ . You manage to make it through the entire ten laps without much of a problem. <div class="note">There is an extended passage here if you have had at least 2 chest transformations or if you have long hair but haven't tied it.</div>\ <<button "Continue with P.E." "Day 8 - 9">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/school-gymd.png"> As P.E. continues, you feel yourself becoming \ \ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ significantly more tired than usual. You try to keep up with the \ <<if $transgender < 15>>\ other \ <</if>>\ boys, but every step feels a lot heavier than usual. Your muscles ache, sweat drips down your face, and your breathing is quicker than normal. Your entire body feels different lately. \ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 19>>\ a little more tired than usual. You try to keep up with the \ <<if $transgender < 15>>\ other \ <</if>>\ boys, but every step feels a little heavier than usual. Your muscles ache, a few beads of sweat drip down your face, and your breathing is quicker than normal. Your entire body feels different lately. \ <<else>>\ tired, but no more than usual. \ <</if>>\ \ Coach Blake calls a cool-down session with some stretches and light yoga, much to your relief. @@.vincent;"You alright, $name?"@@ Vincent asks as you plop down on a gym mat. @@.vincent;"You're looking tired."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, just tired,"@@ you chuckle. @@.player;"It's not a big deal."@@ <<if $feminineLooks > 19>>\ @@.vincent;"But you were faster a week ago,"@@ Vincent says, furrowing his eyebrows. @@.vincent;"Are you sick or something?"@@ You shake your head, trying to mask how drained you feel, but Vincent doesn't let up. @@.vincent;"Come on, $name, something's up,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"I mean, feminizing hormones are known to decrease muscle mass—"@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you say a little too loudly, taken aback. @@.vincent;"O-Oh I shouldn't have said that out loud,"@@ Vincent says, cheeks turning a little red. @@.vincent;"Sorry, I just kind of assumed... I guess I shouldn't assume..."@@ <<button "Tell Vincent the truth" "Day 8 - Tell Vincent">>\<<set $d8vincentTruth to true>>\<<trackChoice "D8_tell_vincent" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't tell Vincent the truth" "Day 8 - 10">>\<<set $d8vincentTruth to false>>\<<trackChoice "D8_tell_vincent" false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.vincent;"Yeah, fair,"@@ Vincent says, a small smile on his face. @@.vincent;"I'm really tired too. I wasn't really built for this kind of thing."@@ <<button "Finish up school" "Day 8 - 10">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/school-locker.png"> You take deep breaths in the locker room, calming down your heart. You take a swig out of your water bottle and let yourself relax. You hadn't considered the effects that your chest would have in gym class, which was a pretty stupid thing to overlook now that you thought about it. While deep in your thoughts, you heard Coach Blake's voice from the doorway. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ she says. \ \ <<if $bind is true>>\ <<set $binder to true>>\ <<grantAchievement "CoachBlakeBinder">>\ She holds a small, neatly folded black garment in her hand. @@.girl;"I did a little digging after our talk and I found this. It's a binder—specifically made for chest compression. Safe compression."@@ Your eyes widen as you stare at the binder. @@.player;"You found this for me?"@@ @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ she says, an understanding smile on her face. @@.girl;"I'm not an expert, but I know enough to see what you're doing right now isn't safe. Wrapping fabric around yourself like that can mess with your breathing, hurt your ribs, and cause a whole host of other problems."@@ Your throat tightens and you want to shift your gaze. @@.girl;"Look, I'm not here to pry into your personal life,"@@ Coach Blake says, sensing your discomfort. @@.girl;"I don't need to know why, $name. I just want to make sure you're safe. Okay?"@@ You nod slowly, your fingers brushing the edge of the binder. It felt very sturdy and wasn't bulky at all. @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you murmur, the weight of her kindness almost overwhelming. @@.girl;"Don't mention it,"@@ she says, standing back up. @@.girl;"Just promise me you'll take care of yourself. No more improvised wrapping. Let me know if you have any questions, alright? We'll figure it out."@@ @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you whisper again. @@.player;"I appreciate it."@@ As Coach Blake leaves the locker room, you unfold the binder in your hands. Simple and practical. It was exactly what you needed. You slip into a private part of the locker room and put it on, adjusting the binder until it sat snugly but not painfully. It feels strange, but after you move your arms and take a deep breath, you realize just how much better it was than what you were using. <<else>>\ <<set $bra to 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "CoachBlakeBra">>\ She holds a small, black garment in her hand that you instantly recognize as a bra. @@.girl;"I did a little digging after our talk and I found this sports bra. It's brand new, don't worry. I'm sure you know what it does."@@ You freeze, your face burning as you look at the bra. You're thankful, but you can't stop yourself from feeling a little \ \ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ excited. <<else>>\ embarrassed. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"I know this is uncomfortable for you to talk about,"@@ she says, an understanding smile on her face. @@.girl;"But I noticed just how uncomfortable you were in laps. This is going to help, trust me."@@ @@.player;"Coach, I—"@@ you start speaking, but your voice catches. Coach Blake sits on the bench beside you, resting the sports bra between the two of you. She just lets it sit there, as if its presence speaks for itself. @@.girl;"Look,"@@ she says, her voice softening. @@.girl;"I'm not here to judge you, $name. I don't know what's going on, and I don't need to know unless you want to tell me. But what I //do// know is that you can't keep running like this."@@ <<if $transgender < 15>>\ @@.girl;"You don't have to do this for anyone else,"@@ she continues. @@.girl;"But you should do it for yourself. Running, jumping, even walking—it's all easier with the right support. Trust me, this doesn't have to mean anything other than keeping you comfortable."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, reaching out hesitantly. You let your fingers brush the soft fabric of the sports bra. @@.player;"How do I...?"@@ @@.girl;"Just slip it on over your head like a shirt, then adjust it so it fits snugly. Here, I'll wait outside while you try it on. Let me know if you need any help."@@ @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you say. @@.girl;"Don't mention it,"@@ Coach Blake says, standing up. @@.girl;"Just take care of yourself."@@ She gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before walking out of the locker room. You sit there for a moment, the sports bra heavy in your hands, before finally slipping into a private part of the locker room to change. It takes a bit of fumbling, but once it's on, you notice the difference immediately. It feels weird, sure, but also relieving. <</if>>\ As you step out of the locker room, Coach Blake is waiting by the door. Her eyes sweep over you briefly, and she nods in approval. @@.girl;"How does that feel?"@@ she ask. @@.player;"Better,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"A lot better."@@ @@.girl;"Good,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"See how it feels today. If it works, let me know—I'll help you find more. And if it doesn't, we'll figure something else out. Deal?"@@ @@.player;"Deal,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Thank you so much, Coach Blake..."@@ @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ your coach replies. The thought of facing the rest of the school day doesn't feel so daunting anymore. <<button "Continue with P.E." "Day 8 - 9">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> As everyone floods out of the room, you're left alone with Ms. Carter. You're about to exit the room too, your handle on the doorknob, when your teacher calls out to you. @@.girl;"$name, could I have a word?"@@ Ms. Carter waves you over. You freeze, slowly peeling your hand off the doorknob and turning around. You shove your hands in your pocket and stiffly make your way over to her desk. @@.player;"Yes?"@@ you ask, wondering if you were in trouble. @@.girl;"Now, I'm not here to pry, but I've heard a few things going around,"@@ Ms. Carter begins, her tone soft. @@.girl;"I wanted to check in with you directly. Are you okay?"@@ You feel your face heat up. Rumors were spreading, and it was clear by how people looked at you this morning. The changes were becoming increasingly difficult to hide. Still, you hadn't expected anyone, let alone a teacher, to address it so directly. @@.player;"I'm fine,"@@ you say, your voice wavering slightly. @@.girl;"I know we haven't known each other for long, $name, but I am your homeroom teacher. I do want to help where I can, I believe that's my obligation as an educator. If you need to discuss this with anyone, know I'm here."@@ @@.player;"Th-Thanks,"@@ you stutter out. @@.girl;"Okay, I won't keep you for any longer then,"@@ Ms. Carter nods. @@.girl;"Thank you for humoring me."@@ <<button "Actually go to class" "Day 8 - 6">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-locker.png"> <<set $top to 10>>\ <<set $pants to 7>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $breastsProg > 1 and $bind is false>>\ @@.player;"Hey, Vincent,"@@ you say, getting his attention. You do have breasts, and you don't want everyone to see them. @@.player;"Can you make sure nobody comes to this part of the locker room? I have to change."@@ @@.vincent;"Oh, yeah, sure,"@@ Vincent responds. He pokes his head out and clears the section the two of you are currently in. @@.vincent;"You're clear."@@ You turn around and change as quickly as possible. You can't help but be embarrassed, hoping nobody will be looking at you. \ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ After all, girls wouldn't change in the boy's locker room. <</if>>\ @@.player;"All clear,"@@ you say, relieved. @@.player;"Thanks, Vincent."@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah, of course,"@@ he says, a bright smile on his face. @@.vincent;"Anything for a friend."@@ <<elseif $bind is true>>\ @@.player;"Hey, Vincent,"@@ you say, getting his attention. You do have breasts, even if you are binding them, and you don't want the entire locker room seeing them. @@.player;"Can you make sure nobody comes to this part of the locker room? I have to change."@@ @@.vincent;"Oh, yeah, sure,"@@ Vincent responds. He pokes his head out and clears the section the two of you are currently in. @@.vincent;"You're clear."@@ You turn around and take off your top. You loosen the towel around your boobs and breathe in several times. Instant relief floods your system, the pain around your ribs disappearing. You look down at your chest and realize that you are going to have to buy an actual binder if you're going to keep this up. <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ Without thinking, you start massaging your chest to try and relieve the pain. You have to hold back a moan as you realize just how sensitive your chest, especially your nipples, has become. Just touching them sends electric shocks through your entire body, and you almost bite your tongue off trying to stop yourself from making more noise. You move your hands off your chest, realizing this is something you may have to experiment with later. @@.boy;"Yo, what the fuck was that noise?"@@ you hear a guy's voice echo. @@.player;"Fuck,"@@ you mutter under your breath. <</if>>\ You quickly wrap the towel tightly around your chest and put on your gym kit. You do the same with your pants, taking off your usual shorts and shoving them in the locker. @@.vincent;"All done?"@@ Vincent asks. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. <<elseif $breastsProg is 1>>\ @@.player;"Hey, Vincent,"@@ you say, getting his attention. You feel a little awkward about showing off your chest, even if you don't really have boobs yet. @@.player;"Can you make sure nobody comes to this part of the locker room? I have to change."@@ @@.vincent;"Oh, yeah, sure,"@@ Vincent responds. He pokes his head out and clears the section the two of you are currently in. @@.vincent;"You're clear."@@ You turn around and change as quickly as possible. You make sure to be careful when sliding the gym shirt over your chest. @@.player;"All clear,"@@ you say, relieved. @@.player;"Thanks, Vincent."@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah, of course,"@@ he says, a bright smile on his face. @@.vincent;"Anything for a friend."@@ <<else>>\ Since your body hasn't changed much, you don't see any issue with changing in the locker room. You change into your gym kit and make your way into the gym. <</if>>\ <<button "Hurry to the gym" "Day 8 - 8">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/restroom.png"> <<if $recentTransformation is "breasts1">>\ You look down, having just grown boobs. Boobs. On your body. You can't help but feel \ <<if $transgender > 9>>\ happy for some reason. You don't know why, but you do feel a little happy. <<else>>\ nervous. <</if>>\ You think they're small enough that nobody will notice them for now, but you don't know what you'll do if they grow further. You decide to leave that for later though. <<button "Hurry to the gym" "Day 8 - 8">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts2">>\ <<set $afterEvent to "Day 8 - 8">>\ You look down, realizing your boobs just grew. You gasp, realizing you can't hide them anymore. This is something you have to address. <<button "Address the issue" "Event - Breasts">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts3">>\ You realize your boobs just grew even more. You have medium-sized breasts now, and they are very noticeable. You've already decided to \ <<if $eventBind is true>>\ bind them so that nobody will notice you've grown boobs. It'll be uncomfortable, but something you have to deal with. <<else>>\ just leave them be regardless of if people notice you've grown boobs. You sigh and wonder what you'll tell your parents. <</if>>\ <<button "Hurry to the gym" "Day 8 - 8">><</button>> <<else>>\ You realize you just changed again, but luckily it's a part you can hide. You breathe a sigh of relief. <<button "Hurry to the gym" "Day 8 - 8">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/restroom.png"> <<set $top to 10>>\ <<set $pants to 7>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You excuse yourself and make your way to the restroom with your gym kit. You lock yourself in a stall, double and triple checking to make sure nobody can enter, and take off your shirt. <<if $breastsProg > 1 and $bind is false>>\ You look down at your boobs and sigh. They are definitely noticeable, and there are likely more than a few rumors about them. <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ You get the temptation to play with your boobs more, remembering just how good it felt in the locker room. You hold up a finger and poke at one of your nipples. It's electric, and shocks erupt through your entire body. You're a little louder than you expected to be, and instantly realize what you're doing. You're playing with your boobs in the school restroom when you're meant to be changing. <</if>>\ You change into your gym kit and make your way to the gym. <<elseif $bind is true>>\ You take off the towel binding your chest and instantly feel relief. You take a few deep breaths, enjoying the freedom that comes with not having something squeezing down on your boobs. You look down at your chest and realize that you are going to have to buy an actual binder if you're going to keep this up. <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ Without thinking, you start massaging your chest to try and relieve the pain. You have to hold back a moan as you realize just how sensitive your chest, especially your nipples, has become. Just touching them sends electric shocks through your entire body, and you almost bite your tongue off trying to stop yourself from making noise. You move your hands off your chest, realizing this is something you may have to experiment with later. <</if>>\ You put on your gym kit\ <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ , cheeks burning bright red, \ <</if>>\ and make your way to the gym. <<elseif $breastsProg is 1>>\ You look down at your breast buds and puffy nipples and sigh. They weren't noticeable, not yet anyway, but they are definitely much more sensitive than before. <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ You get the temptation to play with your chest more, remembering just how good it felt in the locker room. You hold up a finger and poke at one of your nipples. It's electric, and shocks erupt through your entire body. You're a little louder than you expected to be, and instantly realize what you're doing. You're playing with your boobs in the school restroom when you're meant to be changing. <</if>>\ You shake your head to clear your mind and change into your gym kit. You make sure to be careful with your shirt and head to the gym. <<else>>\ You don't have anything in the way of boobs yet, so that isn't a concern for you. You quickly change into your gym kit like usual and head to the gym. <</if>>\ As you put your hand on the gym's door, you feel a familiar warmth crawling up your back. You can't help but gasp. <<set $nextScene to "Day 8 - Change (Restroom) 1">> <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>>

<<if $recentTransformation is "breasts1">>\ You look down, having just grown boobs. Boobs. On your body. You can't help but feel \ <<if $transgender > 9>>\ happy for some reason. You don't know why, but you do feel a little happy. <<else>>\ nervous. <</if>>\ You think they're small enough that nobody will notice them for now, but you don't know what you'll do if they grow further. You decide to leave that for later though. <<button "Continue" "Day 8 - 12">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts2">>\ <<set $afterEvent to "Day 8 - 12">>\ You look down, realizing your boobs just grew. You gasp, realizing you can't hide them anymore. This is something you have to address. <<button "Address the issue" "Event - Breasts">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts3">>\ You realize your boobs just grew even more. You have medium-sized breasts now, and they are very noticeable. You've already decided to \ <<if $eventBind is true>>\ bind them so that nobody will notice you've grown boobs. It'll be uncomfortable, but something you have to deal with. <<else>>\ just leave them be regardless of if people notice you've grown boobs. You sigh and wonder what you'll tell your parents. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 8 - 12">><</button>> <<else>>\ You realize you just changed again, but luckily it's a part you can hide. You breathe a sigh of relief. <<button "Continue" "Day 8 - 12">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src = "img/bg/school-hallway.png"> <<if $d8jessicaPlan is true>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "JessicaPlan">>\ @@.player;"Fuck it, right?"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"What other choice do I have?"@@ @@.jessica;"None, to be honest,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"This plan is a little crazy, I know, but we can't have the rumors spiral out of control."@@ @@.player;"So, what do I have to do?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"Nothing, I'll take care of everything,"@@ Jessica nods, a polite smile on her face. @@.jessica;"Thanks for trusting me. I'll make sure the rumors don't go crazy."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I'm sorry, that's a little too much for me,"@@ you say, rejecting Jessica's help. @@.player;"I can't have people think I'm taking estrogen."@@ @@.jessica;"It's fine, I was just trying to help,"@@ Jessica responds with a shrug. @@.jessica;"Just don't come back to me if the rumors spiral out of control."@@ @@.player;"I'll try not to,"@@ you say, a hint of worry in your voice. <</if>>\ <<button "Return to homeroom" "Day 8 - 4">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-hallway.png"> <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Okay, fine,"@@ you say, exhaling as you think about what to tell Jessica. You look around to see everyone is only pretending they're on their phones. They're all listening in, taking sneaky glances at the two of you. @@.player;"Can we go somewhere private?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, we should go somewhere else,"@@ Jessica says, nodding. @@.jessica;"Come out to the hallway."@@ The two of you make your way to a remote part of the school, where nobody is around. @@.player;"Okay, where do I start?"@@ you ask, knowing exactly where you need to start. @@.jessica;"I don't know, maybe why you look so girly?"@@ @@.player;"Okay, so you're not going to believe me. At all. I wouldn't believe myself if I were in your shoes—"@@ @@.jessica;"Bestie, get on with it,"@@ Jessica sighs. <<if $d7dreamOffer is true>>\ @@.player;"I've been put under a spell."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I've been cursed."@@ <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"What?"@@ @@.player;"See, I told you you wouldn't believe me,"@@ you say, throwing your arms up. @@.jessica;"Just continue, I've heard people say weirder,"@@ Jessica encourages. You give a quick summary of what happened since the Autumn Festival last week. From the moment you got cursed, to discovering your first change, all the way to Madame Serena's evaluation. Jessica listens carefully, reacting to everything you say. @@.jessica;"Okay, thank you for trusting me,"@@ Jessica says, her voice lacking its usual conviction. @@.jessica;"What are we going to tell the school, though?"@@ @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask, furrowing your eyebrows. @@.player;"You believe me?"@@ @@.jessica;"Well, I don't see any other reasonable explanation for what's happened to you,"@@ Jessica shrugs. @@.jessica;"You're telling me you had plastic surgery and recovered in a day? That's impossible. Trust me, I've done my research. Plus, I've heard a lot of gossip about Aurora, and she was always able to do impossible magic stuff. We should tell the school something else though, because nobody will believe you were cursed by a sorceress."@@ @@.player;"Seer,"@@ you correct. @@.jessica;"Yeah, yeah,"@@ Jessica says. She takes some time to think, rubbing her temples before looking back up at you. @@.jessica;"How do you feel about me telling the school that you're on estrogen due to an embarrassing health condition but want to keep it secret?"@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you \ <<if $d7dreamOffer is true>>\ ask. <<else>>\ shout. <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"I know it's not optimal, but I can't think of anything better, $name,"@@ Jessica responds. @@.jessica;"It's either this or let the rumor mill go crazy."@@ <<button "Go with Jessica's plan" "Day 8 - Jessica Help 1">>\<<set $d8jessicaPlan to true>>\<<trackChoice "D8_jessica_plan" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Reject Jessica's plan" "Day 8 - Jessica Help 1">>\<<set $d8jessicaPlan to false>>\<<trackChoice "D8_jessica_plan" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> @@.luke;"So, how do you feel about the curse?"@@ Luke asks, his eyes wide with concern. <<if $d7dreamOffer is true>>\ <<if $acceptance > 14>>\ <<if $confident > $shy>>\ @@.player;"I like the changes, believe it or not,"@@ you say confidently, standing up straight. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I don't know, maybe it's not so bad,"@@ you say shyly, twiddling your thumbs. <</if>>\ @@.luke;"Do you not want to return to being a guy then?"@@ Luke asks, furrowing his eyebrows. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I'm conflicted about the changes."@@ @@.luke;"How are you going to return to being a guy then?"@@ Luke furrows his eyebrows. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $acceptance > 14>> @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I'm conflicted about the changes."@@ @@.luke;"How are you going to return to being a guy then?"@@ Luke furrows his eyebrows. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I'm not a fan of the curse, it keeps on changing me,"@@ you sigh and shake your head. @@.luke;"Damn man, you're going to have to return to being a guy,"@@ Luke says. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Madame Serena, the seer, told me I have to break the spell by the end of the school year,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"What happens if you don't?"@@ Luke asks. @@.player;"Well, I'm stuck like this, then,"@@ you respond. @@.luke;"Fuck, that sounds rough, man,"@@ Luke pats you on the back. @@.luke;"I'm sorry. Just know Samantha and I are here for you, okay?"@@ @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you say as a smile breaks out on your face. <<button "Continue" "Day 8 - 2">><</button>>

<<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-first-masturbation"] ])>>\ <<if $larm is 0>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/pubic.png", "condition": $d7shave, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis0.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis1.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis2.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm0.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm1.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm2.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm0.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm1.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/blush.png", "condition": $blush, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth0.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth2.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth3.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow0.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow1.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/cum0.png", "condition": $cum, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/sweat.png", "condition": $sweat, "requirement": true }, ]>>\ <<elseif $larm is 1>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/pubic.png", "condition": $d7shave, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis0.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis1.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis2.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm0.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm1.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm2.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm0.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm1.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/blush.png", "condition": $blush, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth0.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth2.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth3.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow0.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow1.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/cum0.png", "condition": $cum, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/sweat.png", "condition": $sweat, "requirement": true }, ]>>\ <<else>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/pubic.png", "condition": $d7shave, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis0.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis1.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis2.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm0.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm2.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm0.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm1.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/blush.png", "condition": $blush, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth0.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth2.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth3.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow0.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow1.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/cum0.png", "condition": $cum, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/sweat.png", "condition": $sweat, "requirement": true }, ]>>\ <</if>>\ \ <<if $d8phase is 3>>\ <div class="cgorgasm">\ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ <img src="img/additional/white.png" class="fadeout"> </div>\ <<else>>\ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $d8phase is 0>>\ <<set $d8phase to 1>>\ <<if $d8masturbateThoughts is 0>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 10, 0, 100)>>\ Your face flushes and your penis begins to stiffen as you think of an attractive girl. You imagine long hair, a pretty face, and most importantly, nice boobs. You think of a hot girl wrapping you in her soft arms, her boobs pressing against you. The warmth of her body as she whispers into your ear, her voice sultry. You find yourself writhing a little as you get turned on. <<elseif $d8masturbateThoughts is 1>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 10, 0, 100)>>\ Your face flushes and becomes a bright shade of red as you can't help but think of a hot guy. You imagine a toned chest, nice abs, and most importantly, a handsome face. You think of yourself being wrapped in strong, muscular arms, a deep voice speaking directly into your ear. You imagine that he pushes you down, easily overpowering you, pinning your arms above your head. He takes out his dick and puts it against your— @@.player;"No, no, no, no,"@@ you whisper to yourself as you try and think of something else. Your penis begins to stiffen immediately even as you desperately try and think of the most disgusting things you can. @@.player;"Ugh,"@@ you groan, completely giving up as your penis refuses to go down. <<else>>\ <<set $agp to $agp + 1>>\ You think of yourself as a girl, imagining yourself fully transformed into a woman. You're not sure why, but your penis begins to get hard. You immerse yourself in these thoughts, letting your mind become a whirlwind of femininity and desire. You can't help but think of you being as a woman, dressed in lacy lingerie that hugs your curves. You imagine the softness and vulnerability of your newfound form. The thought of the transformation, and the fact that you're actually going through this, turns you on. The thought of being seen and desired as a woman drives your arousal higher. <</if>>\ You find yourself increasingly aware of your own body as your heartbeat quickens, becoming a subtle rhythm. The entire world around you seems to blur as your senses zero in on the growing sensation near your groin. You poke your penis and let out an involuntary gasp, feeling the sensitivity. \ \ <<if $breastsProg > 0>>\ You put a hand to your chest as well, letting your fingers graze against your nipples. A moan escapes your lips, and you immediately take your fingers off of it. That felt way too good. You wonder how you should proceed from here. <<button "Play with your penis" "Day 8 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $d8masturbateMethod to 0>>\<<set $larm to 0>>\<<set $legs to 1>>\<<set $mouth to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Play with your nipples" "Day 8 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $d8masturbateMethod to 1>>\<<set $larm to 2>>\<<set $rarm to 1>>\<<set $legs to 1>>\<<set $mouth to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Play with both" "Day 8 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $d8masturbateMethod to 2>>\<<set $larm to 0>>\<<set $rarm to 1>>\<<set $legs to 1>>\<<set $mouth to 2>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ You wonder how you should proceed from here. <<button "Play with your penis" "Day 8 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $d8masturbateMethod to 0>>\<<set $larm to 0>>\<<set $legs to 1>>\<<set $mouth to 2>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<elseif $d8phase is 1>>\ <<set $d8phase to 2>>\ <<if $d8masturbateMethod is 0>>\ Lying on your bed, you allow your hand to drift downward. Your finger traces a path across your flat tummy and you allow your hand to brush against the base of your penis. This was something you were very familiar with, having masturbated in this way many times over the years. Your breaths come in soft pants as you begin to tease yourself, gently grabbing your erect member. You wrap your hand around it and start stroking. You begin slowly, savoring how it feels. Closing your eyes, you let yourself fully immerse in your fantasy. <<elseif $d8masturbateMethod is 1>>\ On your back, you allow your hand to drift upward. Your nipples, already hard, peak further at the slightest contact. A whimper escapes your lips as you savor the euphoric sensation that comes from them. Your nipples react to your every touch, and their delicate sensitivity makes up for any inexperience. A delicious shiver races down your spine and pools in your core. Your breathing becomes shallower and more erratic as your nipples swell. You close your eyes, letting yourself immerse in your fantasy. <<elseif $d8masturbateMethod is 2>>\ On your bed, surrounded by darkness, you allow your left hand to drift downward. Your hand traces a path down your flat tummy and you wrap it around your penis. You let your thumb trace lazy circles around the head while your other fingers tease the rest of it. Your other hand moves upward, toward your breasts. You let your fingers dance over your nipples and let out a whimper. The dual sensations make your body arch. You close your eyes and immerse yourself in your fantasy, falling into your thoughts. <</if>>\ <<if $d8masturbateThoughts is 0>>\ Your mind wanders to the thought of women as you pleasure yourself. You imagine that next to you is a woman—beautiful, confident, and utterly captivating. Her nimble fingers trace patterns on your arms and stomach, igniting sparks of pleasure that dance across your skin. Your breath catches in your throat as she leans closer. \ <<if $d8masturbateMethod is 0>>\ She opens her mouth and takes your penis in her mouth. You mirror the bobs of her head with your hand. \ <<elseif $d8masturbateMethod is 1>>\ She captures your nipple between her lips, teasing it with her tongue. You mirror her movements with your hand. \ <<elseif $d8masturbateMethod is 2>>\ She captures your nipple between her lips and moves her hand toward your penis. You mirror her movements the best you can, stroking your penis and teasing your nipples. \ <</if>>\ She locks her eyes with yours, urging you closer to the edge. <<elseif $d8masturbateThoughts is 1>>\ Your mind wanders to the thought of men as you pleasure yourself. You imagine a man in front of you, a smirk on his face. He's strong, handsome, and completely infatuated with you. His gaze devours your form, appreciating every part of your body. His hands, large and capable, \ <<if $d8masturbateMethod is 0>>\ grab onto your penis. He gently strokes your penis \ <<elseif $d8masturbateMethod is 1>>\ cup your breasts. His thumb flicks your nipples \ <<elseif $d8masturbateMethod is 2>>\ grab onto both your penis and your left breast. He gently strokes your penis and teases your nipples \ <</if>>\ as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You moan, your hands desperately moving to mirror his touch. You imagine him taking control, urging you closer to the edge. <<else>>\ Your mind wanders to yourself as an irresistible woman, wearing a \ \ <<if $d4samanthaOutfit is 0>>\ red dress. \ <<elseif $d4samanthaOutfit is 1>>\ floral dress. \ <<else>>\ black dress. \ <</if>>\ \ Your hair falls in soft waves down your back, brushing against your boobs. You imagine yourself admiring your reflection in the mirror, fully feminine and alluring. You take off the dress, letting it pool around your ankles, and smile as you see yourself in the lingerie. Your fantasies fuel your self-pleasure, the thoughts of having these feminine features all to yourself turning you on. You urge yourself closer to the edge. <</if>>\ <<button "Keep going" "Day 8 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $blush to true>>\<<set $sweat to true>>\<</button>> <<elseif $d8phase is 2>>\ <<set $d8phase to 3>>\ <<if $d8masturbateMethod is 0>>\ Your hips slowly begin to rock in rhythm as you stroke your penis more. With each stroke, arousal builds, pressure mounts, and your body demands release. Your free hand reaches down and traces a path up your inner thighs. It pauses to tease your balls, lightly tickling them. You bite your bottom lip, fighting back a moan as you increase the pace. \ <<elseif $d8masturbateMethod is 1>>\ You pinch and twist your nipples gently, eliciting a soft moan even though you try to hold it back. Your nipples are all you can focus on as you guide your fingers. Your fingers pinch and twist harder, and you have to bite your lip to avoid gasps of pleasure. Your movements become more urgent, your breasts rising and falling in time with your breaths. \ <<elseif $d8masturbateMethod is 2>>\ Your hips begin to rock gently, matching the rhythm of your hand. You stroke at your length as your nipples are subjected to increasingly firm pinches and tugs. Your breath comes in ragged gasps. Your hand moves faster on your cock, slick with precum, but your nipples remain the focal point of your pleasure. \ <</if>>\ \ You're left writhing on your bed, your mind consumed by the sensations of your body. <<button "You're at your limit" "Day 8 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $blush to true>>\<<set $mouth to 3>>\<<set $cum to true>>\<</button>> <<elseif $d8phase is 3>>\ You let your hand move faster as you near an orgasm. Your entire body tenses and the room seems to fade away, as you can only focus on your pleasure. You can feel it building, coiling deep within you. Your toes curl, your hips buck, and your tongue lolls out of your mouth. A cry escapes your lips as you orgasm. Every cell in your being sings as you begin to reach the peak, a perfect storm of pleasure ripping through your body. You're left momentarily blinded, white flashes erupting across your vision. Three more quick flashes of pleasure appear before you finally reach the very peak of the mountain you've been climbing. Your entire body trembles, every muscle taut and quivering. Your hand moves even faster as you desperately try and keep the orgasm going for as long as you can. You can feel the familiar warm liquid erupt from your penis. Even as the last burst of pleasure subsides, you continue to tremble. You draw out the last vestiges of pleasure before finally collapsing on the bed, a boneless heap of goo. <<button "Finish" "Day 8 - Masturbation 2">><</button>> <</if>>\

<div class="cg">\ <<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-first-masturbation"] ])>>\ <<if $larm is 0>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/pubic.png", "condition": $d7shave, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis0.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis1.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis2.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm0.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm1.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm2.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm0.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm1.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/blush.png", "condition": $blush, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth0.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth2.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth3.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow0.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow1.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/cum0.png", "condition": $cum, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/sweat.png", "condition": $sweat, "requirement": true }, ]>>\ <<elseif $larm is 1>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/pubic.png", "condition": $d7shave, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis0.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis1.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis2.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm0.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm1.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm2.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm0.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm1.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/blush.png", "condition": $blush, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth0.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth2.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth3.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow0.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow1.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/cum0.png", "condition": $cum, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/sweat.png", "condition": $sweat, "requirement": true }, ]>>\ <<else>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/pubic.png", "condition": $d7shave, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis0.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis1.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis2.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm0.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm2.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm0.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm1.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/blush.png", "condition": $blush, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth0.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth2.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth3.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow0.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow1.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/cum0.png", "condition": $cum, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/sweat.png", "condition": $sweat, "requirement": true }, ]>>\ <</if>>\ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ </div>\ <<set $firstMasturbationCG to true>>\ Your orgasms had never been bad, not at all, but this was another level of pleasure you hadn't experienced before. Your previous orgasms were gentle summer rains—pleasant but not particularly memorable. They were like a soft peak followed by a swift descent. In contrast, what you just experienced now was different. Like a thunderstorm of ecstasy. It crashed over you in a torrent of pleasure so intense it stole your breath away. After your mind returns to normal, you realize something while sprawled on your bed. Fuck, you just had the best orgasm of your life while \ \ <<if $d8masturbateThoughts is 0>>\ imagining a woman jerking you off. It wasn't strange, or at least it shouldn't be, considering it was expected for a boy your age to masturbate to women. Still, though, it felt a little weird that you imagined that. \ <<elseif $d8masturbateThoughts is 1>>\ imagining a man jerking you off. Fantasizing about men felt different, but amazing. The thought of your partner being stronger and manlier than you fills you with a warm feeling. But what did this mean? \ <<else>>\ imagining yourself as a woman. This was different from your usual fantasies. It was more intense, more personal. A mixture of confusion and fascination swirls within you as you contemplate what this means. You've always identified as male, and yet this fantasy awoke something within you that was difficult to ignore. \ <</if>>\ \ You shake your head and try and think of something else. You look down at the thick layers of semen on your thighs and realize you're going to have to clean this all up. You get up, your legs wobbling, and grab some tissues from your desk. You wipe at the cum until it's all gone and head to the shower to get yourself cleaned up. <<button "Clean yourself up" "Day 8 - 13">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $nude to 2>>\ @@.player;"Fuck it,"@@ you mutter as you decide that you have to masturbate. You get up and quietly lock your door, double checking to make sure it can't be opened. \ <<if $plushie is true>>\ You rotate your Panda plushie, $plushieName, so that he's facing the wall. You don't want him to see anything weird. \ <</if>>\ You take off your clothes and awkwardly crawl into bed, lying flat on your back. As you settle into a comfortable position, you look down at your flaccid penis and realize you forgot to bring your phone. An annoyed groan escapes your lips as you decide to just do things using your imagination. <<set $legs to 0>>\ <<set $penis to 0>>\ <<set $larm to 1>>\ <<set $rarm to 0>>\ <<set $mouth to 0>>\ <<set $eyebrow to 0>>\ <<set $cum to false>>\ <<set $sweat to false>>\ <<set $blush to false>>\ <<set $d8phase to 0>>\ <<set $agp to 0>>\ <<set $d8hairProg to $hairProg>>\ <<set $d8eyesProg to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $d8breastsProg to $breastsProg>>\ \ <<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-first-masturbation"] ])>>\ <<if $larm is 0>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/pubic.png", "condition": $d7shave, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis0.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis1.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis2.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm0.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm1.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm2.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm0.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm1.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/blush.png", "condition": $blush, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth0.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth2.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth3.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow0.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow1.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/cum0.png", "condition": $cum, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/sweat.png", "condition": $sweat, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/white.png", "condition": $d8phase, "requirement": 3 }, ]>>\ <<elseif $larm is 1>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/pubic.png", "condition": $d7shave, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis0.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis1.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis2.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm0.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm1.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm2.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm0.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm1.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/blush.png", "condition": $blush, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth0.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth2.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth3.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow0.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow1.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/cum0.png", "condition": $cum, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/sweat.png", "condition": $sweat, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/white.png", "condition": $d8phase, "requirement": 3 }, ]>>\ <<else>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/bg/bg1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/body/baseBody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs0.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/legs/legs1.png", "condition": $legs, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/pubic.png", "condition": $d7shave, "requirement": false }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis0.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis1.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/penis/penis2.png", "condition": $penis, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest1.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/chest/chest2.png", "condition": $d8breastsProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair0.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/hair/hair2.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm0.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/larm/larm2.png", "condition": $larm, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm0.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/rarm/rarm1.png", "condition": $rarm, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/blush.png", "condition": $blush, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth0.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth1.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth2.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/mouth/mouth3.png", "condition": $mouth, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes0.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyes/eyes1.png", "condition": $eyesProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow0.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/eyebrow/eyebrow1.png", "condition": $eyebrow, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/cum0.png", "condition": $cum, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/firstMasturbation/additional/sweat.png", "condition": $sweat, "requirement": true }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/white.png", "condition": $d8phase, "requirement": 3 }, ]>>\ <</if>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ You try and think about what to masturbate to, and a few thoughts pop into your head. <<button "Think of a hot girl" "Day 8 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $d8masturbateThoughts to 0>>\<<set $penis to 1>>\<<set $mouth to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Think of a hot guy" "Day 8 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $d8masturbateThoughts to 1>>\<<set $penis to 1>>\<<set $mouth to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Think of yourself as a hot girl" "Day 8 - Masturbation 1">>\<<set $d8masturbateThoughts to 2>>\<<set $penis to 1>>\<<set $mouth to 1>>\<</button>>

<<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Okay, Vincent, you're not going to believe me,"@@ you begin, whispering to make sure nobody can hear. @@.player;"I've been put under a $referto."@@ @@.vincent;"What?"@@ Vincent laughs a little, shaking his head. @@.vincent;"Come on, $name. That's crazy."@@ @@.player;"I'm not joking,"@@ you insist, your voice firm. @@.player;"You've noticed the changes, right? My face looks a lot different and I'm getting tired faster. Do you think I'd make something like this up?"@@ Vincent scratches the back of his head and frowns. @@.vincent;"Okay, yeah, I've noticed stuff. But a $referto? I mean, those aren't real. That sounds like something out of a movie."@@ @@.player;"It //feels// like something out of a movie, but it's not,"@@ you shoot back. @@.player;"It's happening. I met this seer, Madame Serena—and now every time I do something even remotely feminine, my body changes more."@@ For a moment, Vincent doesn't say anything. He just stares at you, his eyes flicking over your face, searching for any sign that you're joking. @@.vincent;"Okay,"@@ he says finally, crossing his arms. @@.vincent;"Let's say, for a second, that I believe you. What's the endgame here?"@@ @@.player;"I don't know, she did tell me I have to undo it by the end of the school year or it'll be permanent. But I'm still figuring most of this out."@@ Vincent exhales sharply, his skepticism softening into something more like concern. @@.vincent;"Damn, that's a lot,"@@ he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. @@.vincent;"I always thought everything could be explained with science and logic, but your changes just make no sense. I'm not sure I believe you, this is a lot to take in, but... But if you're serious, then I've got your back. We're friends, $name."@@ @@.player;"Thank you, Vincent,"@@ you say, a smile on your face. @@.player;"I appreciate it, friend."@@ @@.vincent;"Anytime."@@ <<button "Finish up school" "Day 8 - 10">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> <<set $day to 9>>\ <<set $top to 0>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ Tuesday begins like any other school day until you step outside. Instead of being greeted with an empty street, you see Aurora leaning against a tree. @@.player;"Huh?"@@ you say as Aurora pushes off the tree. She greets you with a small, knowing smile, as if she's been waiting for you. @@.aurora;"Good morning, $name,"@@ Aurora says, her voice carries the faintest echo, like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. @@.player;"What are you doing here?"@@ you ask, blinking in surprise. @@.aurora;"Well, I figured we should talk,"@@ she said. @@.aurora;"Madame Serena told you something two days ago, didn't she? I figured you could use a little perspective."@@ @@.player;"How do you even know about that?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"I have my ways,"@@ she says mysteriously. @@.aurora;"Madame Serena isn't exactly subtle, to say the least."@@ @@.player;"I suppose so,"@@ you chuckle. @@.aurora;"Well, Madame Serena's evaluation was about reflecting on how you'd react to what you've become,"@@ Aurora begins. @@.aurora;"You're still figuring a lot out. I could be your greatest ally, you know."@@ @@.player;"My greatest ally?"@@ you murmur. <<if $d6auroraTalk is true>>\ @@.aurora;"Well, I explained things to you, didn't I?"@@ she laughs. @@.aurora;"You sought out answers and I gave them to you."@@ <<else>>\ @@.aurora;"Maybe you would know more if you sought out some answers,"@@ Aurora lets out a sigh and shakes her head. <</if>>\ @@.player;"But, like, how could you help me?"@@ @@.aurora;"Well, magic is a very secretive thing—not many people know about it."@@ Aurora says. \ <<if $d8jessicaHelp is true and $d8vincentTruth is true>>\ @@.aurora;"Although you do seem to be going around telling everyone."@@ @@.player;"Not everyone,"@@ you interject. @@.player;"Just Vincent and Jessica."@@ <<elseif $d8jessicaHelp is true or $d8vincentTruth is true>>\ @@.aurora;"Although you seem to be telling a few people."@@ @@.player;"Just my friends,"@@ you mutter under your breath. <<else>>\ @@.aurora;"You are doing a good job of keeping things a secret."@@ @@.player;"Can't go around blabbing about magic, can I?"@@ you ask rhetorically, chuckling. <</if>>\ @@.aurora;"Anyway,"@@ she continues. @@.aurora;"I not only know that magic is real, I'm well-versed in it. You're not going to meet many people like me, $name."@@ @@.player;"I suppose so,"@@ you respond. @@.aurora;"I've said my piece,"@@ Aurora pats your shoulder lightly. @@.aurora;"Think about what I said."@@ With that, she turns and walks away. You're left standing there, the morning sun warming your back as her words replay in your mind. @@.player;"Hey, wait!"@@ you yell out, suddenly realizing something. @@.player;"You're walking in the opposite direction of the school."@@ @@.aurora;"Oh, I know,"@@ Aurora says, not bothering to even look back. @@.aurora;"I'll get there earlier than you, don't worry."@@ <<button "Head to school" "Day 9 - 2">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> <<if $d8rumors is true>>\ <<if $d8jessicaPlan is true>>\ The gossip about you seems to have died down considerably from yesterday, and you only get a few awkward looks here and there. \ <<else>>\ Although the sounds of people gossiping about you are a little distracting, you do your best to brush it off. \ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ \ You make it through the first few classes of the day and lunch without much of an issue. After scraping your trash into the bin, you make your way to the second floor for art. You step into art class, looking forward to the lesson. It's a welcome distraction from everything happening around you, and it does give you a chance to explore your creativity. The familiar smell of paint, clay, and turpentine floats around in the air. At the front of the room is your teacher, Ms. Delgado. She has an apron on over a flowy blouse, and she greets each student as they enter the room. @@.girl;"Good morning, $name,"@@ she says with a smile. @@.girl;"Are you ready to show off your creative side today?"@@ @@.player;"Morning Ms. Delgado,"@@ you respond, nodding. @@.girl;"Please, call me Sophia,"@@ Ms. Delgado says. You take your usual seat in the \ <<if $confident > $shy>>\ front \ <<else>>\ back \ <</if>>\ of the room and soon the school bell rings. @@.girl;"Okay, class,"@@ Ms. Delgado begins, clapping her hands together to get everyone's attention. @@.girl;"We have a very special guest with us today. She is the mentor over at Creative Corner, an art studio I'm sure some of you have visited. Please welcome Ms. Harper."@@ <<if $metHarper is true>>\ Your eyes widen. Isn't this who you spoke to on Saturday? Could it just be someone with the same name? <</if>>\ A woman walks into the room, waving with both hands. Her blue hair and piercings give her a distinct look that's hard to mistake. \ \ <<if $metHarper is true>>\ Yup, this is definitely the Ms. Harper you met a few days ago. <<else>>\ You'd never seen this woman before, but you admire the pure confidence she seems to exude. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"Alright, everyone!"@@ Ms. Delgado claps her hands to grab everyone's attention. @@.girl;"Today we're going to focus on self-expression. The goal is to create something that reflects who you are, through any method you want. Just trust your instincts and let the paint flow."@@ Some people start grabbing their canvases, while others rush to claim the good paints. You rub your chin as you think about how you should express yourself. <<button "Create a dual self-portrait" "Day 9 - 3">>\<<set $temp to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D9_self_portrait" "dual" "story">><</button>> <<button "Make an abstract self-portrait" "Day 9 - 3">>\<<set $temp to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D9_self_portrait" "abstract" "story">><</button>> <<button "Just do some random stuff" "Day 9 - 3">>\<<set $temp to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D9_self_portrait" "random" "story">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> <<if $temp is 0>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acolortheory to Math.clamp($acolortheory + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acomposition to Math.clamp($acomposition + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $femininity > 25>>\ <<set $d9portrait to 0>>\ The canvas feels daunting at first, its blank surface ready for a world of possibility. You close your eyes and think about the two parts of yourself—the person you were and the person you're becoming—and let the brush guide you. On one side of the canvas, you paint a figure shrouded in deep blues and grays. His posture is tense, shoulders drawn inward. His face is angular and shadowed, blending into the muted background. Around him, you draw sharp geometric shapes that jut out like armor. The other side of the canvas explodes with vibrant colors. You use pinks, yellows, and soft greens to draw another figure. She's radiant, standing tall with open arms and a serene expression. Her form has rounded edges and flowing lines, and she seems to almost glow. The two figures face each other, their gazes locked. At first glance, it feels like a confrontation. But as you add details, you notice it changing. You paint a delicate thread of gold connecting the two, stretching from one chest to the other. It's fragile and thin but unbroken. When you finish and step back, you realize the painting is about harmony. Both figures exist together, neither erasing the other. It feels like a step toward understanding yourself. <<else>>\ <<set $d9portrait to 1>>\ The blank canvas stares back at you, and you're determined to make sense of the fractured pieces of yourself. You start with bold strokes of dark red and navy, forming the outline of a figure on the left side of the canvas. He's rigid and strong, standing with arms crossed and an unyielding expression. Around him, you paint jagged shapes—triangles and rectangles in dark tones. On the right side, you paint a second figure. This figure is unfinished, incomplete. Her form is softer and blurred at the edges. You use muted purples and silvers to color her, making her eyes wide with curiosity. She reaches out, her hand extending toward him, but they're hesitant. Between the two figures, you paint a swirling vortex of colors: greens, yellows, and oranges clashing and blending together. It's chaotic, representing the uncertainty and discomfort of trying to reconcile these two versions of yourself. When you finish and step back, you realize the painting doesn't offer any answers. The two figures stand apart, their differences starker than ever. <</if>>\ <<elseif $temp is 1>>\ <<set $acolortheory to Math.clamp($acolortheory + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $acomposition to Math.clamp($acomposition + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $femininity > 25>>\ <<set $d9portrait to 2>>\ You stare at the blank canvas, your hand trembling as you pick up the brush. The world around you fades as you focus inward, channeling the whirlwind of emotions that have been building inside you for days now. The first stroke is a bold, sweeping curve. The deep crimson archest across the canvas like a ribbon, representing energy and vibrancy. From there, you add swirling patterns of lavender—a color you've found yourself gravitating toward lately. The softer tones twist and blend with the crimson, creating a sense of harmony amidst the chaos. At the center of the piece, you paint a glowing orb in soft pink and white, radiating light outward. It's a symbol of the transformation taking hold of you, something bright and undeniable. You create streaks of dark blue and black at the edges of the orb like shadows threatening to pull the light away. As you step back to admire your work, you notice the painting feels balanced yet dynamic. It's a reflection of your mixed thoughts on the $referto. <<else>>\ <<set $d9portrait to 3>>\ The canvas stares back at you, empty and vast. You grip your brush tightly though, determined to fill it. Your first stroke is a jagged slash of dark blue, cutting across the canvas like a wound. Around it, you add streaks of gray and muted green, layering them. The colors are earthy and grounded, reflecting the stability you're trying to hold onto. At the core of the painting, you create a dense cube built from intersecting lines. It feels solid and unyielding, a symbol of the identity you've always known. But cracks start to appear in the shape as you work, with threads of violet seeping through the fractures. On the outer edges of the canvas, you paint long, sweeping lines in a metallic silver. It's almost like a shield, meant to be gaurding you. Yet, those lines blur into the background, mixing with the sharper colors. When you step back, the painting feels heavy and intense. As if it carries the weight of everything you've been struggling with. It's not comfortable to look at, to say the least, but it feels honest. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $d9portrait to 4>>\ You feel your motivation drain like air from a popped balloon. Expressing yourself sounds too difficult. Art is supposed to be fun, isn't it? You start with a blob of paint—a literal blob. You grab a large brush, dunk it in into the first color you see (a bright orange), and smack it onto the canvas. The thick splatter creates a satisfying sound. Fueled by impulse, you grab another brush and swipe blue streaks across the big blob, crossing it in random directions. You add green polka dots for no reason whatsoever and decide the whole thing could use some glitter. You dump half a jar of it onto the wet paint. You continue your haphazard masterpiece, adding squiggles, random fingerprints, and even some water. By the time you're done, your canvas is a colorful, messy explosion. You feel oddly proud of it. It's nonsense, yes, but it's your nonsense. @@.girl;"Care to explain this?"@@ Ms. Harper says as she gestures to the canvas. \ <<if $metHarper is true>>\ @@.girl;"I saw what you did on Saturday. You can do better than this."@@ <<else>>\ @@.girl;"I'm not sure how skilled you are at art, but I'm sure you can do better than this."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"It's about... life,"@@ you begin improvising. @@.player;"The orange represents, uh, the chaos of youth. The blue streaks are the boundaries of society, which we're all just trying to break free from. The glitter is like the unexpected beauty in the mess of it all."@@ @@.girl;"Well, I'll give you points for creativity,"@@ Ms. Harper says, her expression caught between skepticism and amusement. @@.girl;"Although you used much more glitter than you should have."@@ @@.player;"Well, it was necessary for my artistic vision,"@@ you waffle. <</if>>\ Everything begins to wrap up, as the period is about to end. Ms. Delgado claps her hands to get everyone's attention. @@.girl;"Alright, everyone, it's time to wrap up,"@@ she begins. @@.girl;"Please bring your canvases to the drying racks carefully—//carefully//. Once your work is drying, clean your brushes and palettes, and don't forget to wipe down your desks before you leave."@@ You glance at your creation one last time, feeling a mix of pride, curiosity, or maybe even embarrassment. Picking up the canvas gingerly, you make your way to the drying racks. Once you make it there, you search the drying rack and slide your canvas into an empty slot. Around you, the shelves are quickly filling with an eclectic mix of styles: portraits, abstract pieces, and even a painting that looks like a dragon spitting fire at a UFO. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ Ms. Delgado calls out from the front of the room. @@.girl;"Make sure everything is cleaned up before you leave! Treat these pieces with care—they're the foundation of your next masterpiece."@@ You head back to your desk, grabbing your brushes and palette to clean. The sink area is crowded, so you wait your turn. You idly watch as the other students chatter about their paintings. As you rinse your brushes under the running water, you can't help but think about the $referto. A moment of self-expression felt fulfilling, for some weird reason. Once everything is clean and packed away, the bell rings, announcing the end of class. You wipe down your desk and grab your bag. You leave the classroom, thinking as you head toward the rest of your day. <<button "Finish up school" "Day 9 - 4">><</button>>

After school, you end up heading to the football field for some reason. You just need some space, everything's been feeling a little overwhelming lately. The open-air and the quiet of the field are a welcome relief, a place to clear your mind. The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the grass, and the empty bleachers are the perfect spot to sit and gather your thoughts. You make your way over, feeling the crunch of the grass beneath your shoes. You're not planning to stay here long—just long enough to sit in the silence and forget about everything for a few minutes. There's something soothing about the emptiness, the stillness of the field. You take a deep breath and settle down on the bleachers, letting your thoughts drift away for a while. Then you spot him—Jordan. He's alone on the field, running drills with single-minded intensity. He breathes hard and fast, but he doesn't stop. His footwork is sharp, his movements calculated. He zigzags between cones and sprints around the field. Jordan's expression is focused and grim, as if every step he takes is a battle. You wonder whether to interrupt. You think he's just doing some extra conditioning before the start of the football season. There's a tension in his posture and a slight grimace on his face, though. It seems to keep him moving even when he's aching. You watch silently, but even as the minutes tick by, Jordan doesn't slow down. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he takes a breather. He stands there, bent at the waist, breathing heavily. Sweat drips down from his hair to his forehead, and his chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath. He looks up at the sky for a second, and then he's back to stretching. You sit there, unsure of what to do. Jordan hasn't noticed you yet, but it's only a matter of time before he does. <<button "Clap and cheer quietly" "Day 9 - Jordan">>\<<set $d9jordan to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D9_jordan_interact" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Stay silent and watch" "Day 9 - Jordan">>\<<set $d9jordan to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D9_jordan_interact" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Leave before he notices you" "Day 9 - 5">>\<<set $d9jordan to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D9_jordan_interact" 2 "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-livingroomd.png"> You sit down on the living room couch when you hear the front door creak open. Your heart skips a beat—Dad isn't usually home this early. You'd been avoiding him a little, worried that he'd notice your transformations. You consider making a beeline back to your room, but before you can, his familiar voice calls out from the entryway. @@.boy;"$name?"@@ he says. @@.boy;"Is that you?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, Dad,"@@ you respond, your heart pounding. @@.player;"I'm home."@@ Your dad walks into the living room, dressed in his usual business-casual attire. His briefcase is in hand, his tie slightly loosened, and there's a weariness to his movements. He looks at you and his eyes \ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ widen. He continues to scan you, and you realize you've been caught. @@.boy;"$name..."@@ he says, his voice softer than usual. @@.boy;"Hey, are you alright?"@@ You sit up straighter, a little thrown off by the way he's looking at you. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm fine, Dad,"@@ you say, forcing a small smile. Your dad sets down his briefcase and moves closer. He takes you in more closely, noticing the softness of your face. @@.boy;"$name,"@@ he begins again, his tone more serious. @@.boy;"What's going on with you? You've changed a lot, and I don't mean the hair or the clothes."@@ @@.player;"Dad, I—"@@ you start, your words catching in your throat. @@.boy;"Look, I don't know what's going on with you, but I'm worried,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"I don't know much about this kind of stuff. But you're my son, and I need to know what's going on."@@ <<button "Tell your dad a little" "Day 9 - Dad">>\<<set $d9telldad to true>>\<<trackChoice "D9_tell_dad" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Snap at him" "Day 9 - Dad">>\<<set $d9telldad to false>>\<<trackChoice "D9_tell_dad false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ light up. @@.boy;"Hey, kiddo,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"I figured you'd be in your room."@@ You're relieved that he doesn't seem to notice your transformations yet. Dad had never been super observant. You force a small smile, feeling a twinge of guilt. You've been avoiding him more lately—not intentionally, but because every interaction feels like it might reveal more about the changes you've been going through. @@.player;"I got home a little late today.@@ He sets his briefcase and stretches, letting out a contented sigh. @@.boy;"Lucky me, huh?"@@ he grins, letting out a contented sigh as he takes a seat across from you. @@.boy;"I get some rare $name time. So, what's new? How's school going?"@@ @@.player;"It's the same old stuff, I guess,"@@ you shrug, trying to hide the inner turmoil you've been going through. @@.player;"Classes are okay, friends are okay. There really isn't anything exciting."@@ @@.boy;"Hmm,"@@ your dad leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studies you. @@.boy;"You've been a little quiet lately. I was just concerned."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say quickly, trying to sound casual. @@.player;"I've just been a little tired. School's been busy."@@ @@.boy;"Just know you can talk to me about anything, alright?"@@ he reasures. @@.player;"Thanks, Dad,"@@ you respond. @@.boy;"Anytime,"@@ he replies, leaning back in the armchair. @@.boy;"Now, what's on the TV? Hopefully there's something good. I don't want to watch reality cooking shows, I've seen far too many of those."@@ You let him ramble on. The tension eases as the conversation shifts to lighter topics, but the weight of his earlier question lingers. For now, though, you let it slide, just glad he didn't question your transformations. <<button "Continue" "Day 9 - 6">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> The day winds down quietly. You find yourself back in your room, the soft glow of the moonlight spilling through the window. It's been a strange day, not particularly eventful, but there's a lingering sense of anticipation in the air. Your room feels comforting as you settle in. The familiar clutter of your desk, the faint hum of your computer, and the soft rustle of the breeze outside are quite grounding. You go through your usual routine, and when you crawl into bed, the quiet of the night wraps around you. For a moment, you can let the day slip away. As your eyelids grow heavy and sleep begins to take hold, you wonder what tomorrow will bring. <<button "Finish up the day" "Day 10 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-livingroomn.png"> <<if $d9telldad is true>>\ <<set $dadRelo to Math.clamp($dadRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'm still me,"@@ you finally say, trying to sound convincing. @@.player;"It's all just very complicated, but I'm going through some stuff."@@ @@.boy;"Complicated?"@@ your dad repeats, his brow furrowing. @@.boy;"This isn't complicated, I can see it. You look different. You act different. I can't help but feel like I'm missing something. If you're going through something, I just want to let you know I'm here. I don't care if you need to talk or not, but I just want you to be okay."@@ You can tell your dad is genuinely trying. You feel a mix of relief and guilt—relief because he's offering you support and guilt because you're not sure how to explain any of this to him. @@.boy;"You're still my son,"@@ he says quietly, although you're unsure who he's trying to reassure. @@.boy;"I want to understand, but I just don't know how. This is a lot, $name. I want to be there for you, but you have to help me understand what's happening."@@ You swallow hard, uncertainty filling your thoughts. The weight of it all is suffocating. @@.player;"I don't know how to explain it yet, Dad,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But I'll figure it out and tell you. Can you just give me some time?"@@ @@.boy;"Alright,"@@ your dad says, nodding slowly. @@.boy;"I can give you some time. Just tell me when you're ready."@@ The conversation trails off as your dad moves to grab a snack from the kitchen, but the unease still lingers in the air. You're not sure where this will go, but for now, all you can do is keep taking it one day at a time. <<else>>\ <<set $dadRelo to Math.clamp($dadRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You feel your jaw tighten. Of course, now your dad notices. After all this time, after everything, //now// he's paying attention. Something in you snaps. You can feel the frustration bubbling to the surface, and you don't bother to hold it back. @@.player;"Oh, now you're worried?"@@ you say, your voice sharper than any knife. @@.player;"You've been gone half the time on business trips, barely around the house, and now you suddenly care about what's going on with me?"@@ Your dad blinks, taken aback. @@.boy;"$name, that's not fair—"@@ @@.player;"''No,''"@@ you interrupt. @@.player;"What's not fair is you acting like you've been here for me this whole time. You don't get to act like the concerned dad when you've barely been around for years of my life."@@ @@.boy;"$name, I'm working hard to provide for this family."@@ @@.player;"Sure, because every dad that provides for the family does this,"@@ you say, your voice venomous. @@.player;"While you've been on business trips, I've been dealing with all of this—alone! You don't even know what's going on with me, Dad."@@ There's a heavy silence between you. Your dad looks at you, his face a mix of hurt and frustration. He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it like he's unsure how to respond. @@.boy;"I didn't know you felt like this,"@@ he says, his voice quieter. @@.player;"Well, now you do,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm not just some //thing// for you to return to now that you want to make amends and be a better father."@@ @@.boy;"I'll back off for now, $name,"@@ your father says. @@.boy;"I'm here if you need to talk."@@ Without waiting for a response, he turns and walks toward the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. You sit back down, your chest tight. You're not sure if you feel better or worse after that, but you know things aren't going to be the same anymore. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 9 - 6">><</button>>

<<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Hey, uh, Jordan!"@@ you call out, your voice just loud enough to carry across the field. Jordan pauses and glances at you. He pushes himself up and sits back, wiping his face with his shirt. @@.jordan;"What?"@@ @@.player;"I just wanted to say... you're really dedicated,"@@ you begin. @@.player;"The way you're out here practicing all alone. It's impressive."@@ Jordan blinks, caught off guard. For a moment, he just stares. Your eyes meet across the lonely football field before he shakes his head and speaks up. @@.jordan;"It's not a big deal."@@ @@.player;"How is it not?"@@ you counter, feeling a little braver. @@.player;"Most people wouldn't push themselves this hard."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, well, it's not like I have a choice,"@@ he mutters, letting out a short laugh. @@.jordan;"You don't even know me. What's with all the praise?"@@ @@.player;"Maybe I don't know you,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"But I can see when someone's putting in the work."@@ For a moment, Jordan just stands there. He stares at the ground, tapping his foot as he thinks. Then he looks up at you, eyes narrowing slightly. @@.jordan;"You're a weird one."@@ @@.player;"I get that a lot,"@@ you reply with a small grin. Jordan doesn't respond, but when he turns back to the field and resumes his drills, there's a faint shift in his demeanor. Some tension seems to have eased. You watch for a while, and when you finally decide to go home, Jordan is still powering through a workout. You frown, not understanding him much, but you're glad you got a little more insight today. <<button "Go home" "Day 9 - 5">><</button>>

<<if $d9jordan is 0>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You decide to quietly clap from the bleachers, a small gesture of support. It's not too loud, just a soft encouragement. At first, it seems like he doesn't notice, but his eyes flicker up in your direction as he stops to catch his breath. There's a flicker of surprise in his expression as if he didn't expect anyone to be watching. He doesn't acknowledge you immediately, keeping his distance. But after a long beat, he gives a curt nod. @@.jordan;"Thanks,"@@ he says, his voice a little strained but low. He doesn't elaborate or try to make conversation at all, and after a few seconds, he's back to stretching. There's a subtle shift in his posture—his shoulders are a little less tense, his movements less rigid. <<elseif $d9jordan is 1>>\ You decide to stay where you are, settling into the cool metal of the bleachers. From your vantage point, you can observe Jordan without interrupting him. You watch him sprint, feet pounding against the turf, and can't help but wonder what drives him so hard. As Jordan passes by the bleachers, his eyes briefly flick to you. He seems to hesitate for a fraction of a second like he's considering saying something, but then he looks away. He returns to sprinting back and forth across the lonely football field. <</if>>\ You watch Jordan for a little longer, debating whether to say anything. His arms tremble from exhaustion as he moves into a series of push-ups. <<button "Say something to Jordan" "Day 9 - Jordan 1">>\<<set $d9jordanChat to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Decide not to" "Day 9 - 5">>\<<set $d9jordanChat to false>>\<</button>>

Hello, this is a quick choice regarding how much adult content you want in this game. I thought about this for a while, considering my own thoughts on having adult content and the survey results. Approximately half of you wanted adult content in A Mirror's Curse, and I felt that figure was way too high to ignore. However, the other half was ambivalent to the thought of adult content. I decided the best compromise would be to ask how much adult content the player wants. For week 2, there will not be too much adult content. This choice will mostly just affect how $name reacts to their boobs if you decide to get them. There may be a masturbation scene, but there won't be any sex until later on. I believe this is the best way to respect what everyone wants for this game. A moderate amount of adult content involves sex scenes, masturbation, and general adult scenes. A small amount of adult content will entail masturbation and general adult scenes but no sex. No adult content, as promised, will involve no adult content whatsoever. <<button "I want a moderate amount of adult content" "Day 8 - 1">>\<<set $adultPref to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "I want a small amount of adult content" "Day 8 - 1">>\<<set $adultPref to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "I want no amount of adult content" "Day 8 - 1">>\<<set $adultPref to 0>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 15>>\ The shrill ring of your phone jolts you awake. You groggily blink at the screen, squinting against the early morning light. ''Jessica Sanders''. The queen bee of Pacific Crest High School. You hesitate for a moment before swiping to answer. <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ The moment you pick up, Jessica's voice floods through the speaker, crisp and commanding. @@.jessica;"$name! you're awake, right?"@@ She doesn't give you any time to respond before continuing. @@.jessica;"Good, because this is important. It's Homecoming Week, and today is Pajama Day."@@ You rub your eyes, trying to process her words. @@.player;"Pajama Day? It's... Monday morning, Jessica."@@ Jessica sighs like she's dealing with a particularly slow child. @@.jessica;"That means you are //not// showing up in those tragic cargo shorts and a plain white T-shirt. I swear, $name, you dress like a divorced dad on his weekend off."@@ You frown, sitting up. @@.player;"Hey, what's wrong with my outfit?"@@ @@.jessica;"Everything,"@@ she deadpans. @@.jessica;"Look, just for today, wear something normal. "@@ You rub your temples, trying to keep up. @@.player;"Why do you even care what I wear?"@@ Jessica stops for a second as if you had just asked why the sky is blue. @@.jessica;"Because it's Homecoming Week! School spirit? Participation? Making sure our school doesn't look like we can't even commit to a simple theme day?"@@ She pauses for dramatic effect. @@.jessica;"Besides, it's literally the easiest one. I bet you're wearing pajamas right now. You just roll out of bed, and //boom//, you're done."@@ @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say. @@.jessica;"I just figured I'd make sure you weren't gonna be the one person who shows up looking like it's just another Monday. Plus, let's be honest here—you //could// use a break from those cargo shorts."@@ A small smirk tugs at your lips. @@.player;"Is that a compliment or an insult?"@@ @@.jessica;"I'll leave it to you to discern,"@@ she says, laughing gently. @@.jessica;"Just think about it, okay?"@@ <<else>>\ <<if $popularity < 40 and $jessicaRelo < 25>>\ The second you answer, Jessica's voice comes through, smooth and to the point. @@.jessica;"Hey, $name. Just checking—are you dressing up for Pajama Day?"@@ You blink groggily at your phone. @@.player;"What?"@@ She exhales, not quite annoyed, but definitely impatient. @@.jessica;"It's Homecoming Week. Today's Pajama Day. I'm trying to make sure as many people as possible actually participate."@@ You rub your face, trying to wake up. @@.player;"And you're calling me because...?"@@ Jessica pauses, then says, @@.jessica;"Because it's better when more people join in. It makes things feel less boring."@@ There's no sharp edge to her voice, just a matter-of-factness that makes it clear she cares—at least about the event, if not about you personally. You hesitate, and she adds, @@.jessica;"Look, it's the easiest theme day. You don't even have to try, just wear pajamas and call it a win. If you show up in cargo shorts, I //will// judge you."@@ @@.jessica;"Anyway, do whatever,"@@ she adds as an afterthought. @@.jessica;"Just figured I'd check."@@ <<else>>\ The second you answer, Jessica's voice comes through, bright and chipper. @@.jessica;"$name! Tell me you're actually dressing up today."@@ You blink at your phone. @@.player;"Uh... what?"@@ She sighs, but there's a teasing edge to it. @@.jessica;"Homecoming Week? Pajama Day? Ringing any bells?"@@ You rub your face, trying to wake up. @@.player;"Oh. Right. That's today?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yes, that's today. And I am //personally// making sure everyone who matters actually participates."@@ Her tone shifts, a little lighter. @@.jessica;"And you, $name, //do// matter. So don't be lame."@@ @@.player;"Wow, I'm honored,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.jessica;"You should be,"@@ she replies, but you can hear the grin in her voice. @@.jessica;"Don't ruin it by wearing your cargo shorts."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Cargo shorts would ruin Homecoming Week?"@@ @@.jessica;"Absolutely,"@@ she says without hesitation. @@.jessica;"You have a reputation to uphold."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Listen to Jessica and wear pajamas" "Day 15 - 2">>\<<set $d15pajamas to true>>\<<trackChoice "D15_pajamas" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Ignore her and wear regular clothes" "Day 15 - 2">>\<<set $d15pajamas to false>>\<<trackChoice "D15_pajamas" false "story">><</button>>

The cafeteria hums with the usual midday chaos—students laughing, shouting across tables, and trays clattering. The air smells like overcooked pasta and something vaguely resembling garlic bread. After you get a tray, you head straight to your usual spot, where Luke and Samantha have already claimed your usual table. Luke spots you first, mid-bite into some spaghetti. He waves, barely managing to chew before swallowing. @@.luke;"Dude! Took you long enough."@@ Samantha, sitting across from him, doesn't even glance up from peeling the label off her apple. @@.samantha;"Yeah, we were about to send out a search party. Maybe put your face on a milk carton."@@ You drop into the open seat beside Luke with a sigh. @@.player;"You guys are so dramatic."@@ Luke grins. @@.luke;"Yeah, we are, but that's why you love us."@@ Samantha finally looks up, a smirk on her face. @@.samantha;"He says 'love'. I say 'tolerate.'"@@ Luke places a hand over his chest. @@.luke;"Wow. Can you believe this, $name? The betrayal."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Honestly? I can."@@ Samantha flashes you a knowing smile before turning back to Luke. @@.samantha;"Anyway, we were just talking about the most important topic of the day."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Which is?"@@ Luke leans forward, completely serious. @@.luke;"How long I could survive on a deserted island."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ Samantha sighs, shaking her head. @@.samantha;"He thinks he'd last a month."@@ You stare at Luke. @@.player;"A month?"@@ @@.luke;"Why is that so unbelievable?"@@ Luke asks, throwing his hands up. Samantha jabs a finger at Luke. @@.samantha;"Because you tried to toast ramen noodles once."@@ Luke groans. @@.luke;"Look, it was an experiment!"@@ @@.player;"An experiment in what?"@@ you ask, already dreading the answer. He shrugs. @@.luke;"I don't know. Alternative cooking methods."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Luke, you put them in a fucking toaster."@@ Luke throws up his hands. @@.luke;"How was I supposed to know they'd catch on fire?"@@ @@.player;"Common sense?"@@ you ask, staring at him. Luke scoffs. @@.luke;"Whatever you say, Einstein."@@ @@.player;"Luke, come on,"@@ you say, trying to get him to see reason. @@.player;"If you got stranded on an island, you'd die pretty quickly."@@ @@.luke;"No faith in me. None. At. All."@@ Samantha pats his arm. @@.samantha;"At least you'd go down in history. First man to invent 'beach fire ramen' and immediately perish."@@ The conversation moves on to other ridiculous topics—whether a hot dog is a sandwich, the questionable history of the school's mystery meat, if the cafeteria lady is actually part of the mafia—but eventually, after the laughter dies down a bit, Samantha leans back and looks at you more seriously. @@.samantha;"So, $name."@@ She takes a sip of her water. @@.samantha;"We //have// to ask you something important. Something ''crucial''."@@ You glance between them, immediately getting suspicious. @@.player;"...Go on."@@ Luke grins, but there's something almost mischievous in it. @@.luke;"Hypothetically, like in an alternate universe or something—what's your type?"@@ You pause, your brain short-circuiting for a second. @@.player;"My what?"@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"You know what we mean, $name. Your type. Crushes. Romance. The people you secretly pine over when you stare dramatically out a window."@@ @@.player;"I do not do that."@@ Luke gasps. @@.luke;"Wait. //Do// you have a secret crush?"@@ @@.player;"No."@@ Samantha leans forward, resting her chin on her hand. @@.samantha;"That wasn't very convincing."@@ You groan. @@.player;"Why are we even talking about this?"@@ @@.luke;"Because we talk about //everything// and somehow this has never come up?"@@ @@.samantha;"Seriously,"@@ Samantha says, gesturing vaguely at you. @@.samantha;"You've never mentioned anyone. Not even in passing."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, dude,"@@ Luke nods. @@.luke;"There's gotta be //something//."@@ You rub the back of your neck as you think of how to answer. <<button "I guess I've always been into girls" "Day 15 - 11">>\<<set $d15romanceanswer to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D15_sexuality" "women" "story">><</button>> <<button "I think I've always liked guys more" "Day 15 - 11">>\<<set $d15romanceanswer to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D15_sexuality" "men" "story">><</button>> <<button "I mean... both?" "Day 15 - 11">>\<<set $d15romanceanswer to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D15_sexuality" "both" "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't really think about it that much" "Day 15 - 11">>\<<set $d15romanceanswer to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D15_sexuality" "neither" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d15romanceanswer is 0>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 20, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 20, 0, 100)>>\ You shrug, leaning back in your seat. @@.player;"I guess I've always been into girls."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow, her smirk turning smug. @@.samantha;"Ohh, always, huh? That sounds //very// confident."@@ @@.luke;"Right?@@ Luke says with a grin. @@.luke;"Like, no doubts? No 'hmm, maybe that guy is kinda good-looking'? Nothing at all?"@@ You can't help but roll your eyes. @@.player;"Why does this feel like an interrogation?"@@ Samantha taps her fingers against the table. @@.samantha;"Because it //is//."@@ Luke nods. @@.luke;"A friendly one, though. With good intentions."@@ @@.player;"Look, I just know what I like,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That's all."@@ Samantha hums thoughtfully. @@.samantha;"Okay, okay. Fair enough."@@ She pauses, then smirks. @@.samantha;"Sooo, is there anyone specific?"@@ You groan. @@.player;"I am ''absolutely'' not answering that."@@ @@.luke;"That means there //is// someone!"@@ Luke says, letting out a loud laugh. Samantha gasps and scrambles to sit up straight. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, is it someone at school? Perhaps even someone we know?"@@ You glare. @@.player;"Not happening."@@ @@.samantha;"Ugh,"@@ Samantha says, crossing her arms and pouting. @@.samantha;"You're no fun."@@ Luke nudges your arm. @@.luke;"Fine, we'll drop it. For now."@@ @@.samantha;"But we //will// find out,"@@ Samantha declares, pointing at you. <<elseif $d15romanceanswer is 1>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 20, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 20, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for only a second before shrugging. @@.player;"I think I've always liked guys more."@@ Luke and Samantha both blink. Then— @@.samantha;"Oh,"@@ Samantha says, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. @@.samantha;"Ohhh."@@ Luke, on the other hand, is already grinning. @@.luke;"Dude! That's awesome."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Why do the both of you look like you just won a prize?"@@ Samantha leans forward, resting her chin on her hands. @@.samantha;"Because, $name. This is new information. Interesting information."@@ Luke nods enthusiastically. @@.luke;"Yeah! I mean, you //never// talk about this stuff. So, naturally, we have a few follow-up questions."@@ @@.player;"I regret everything,"@@ you mutter. Samantha ignores you completely. @@.samantha;"So, is this, like, a recent realization or have you just been keeping secrets from your two very best friends in the whole entire world?"@@ @@.player;"I just... never really thought it was that big of a deal,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.luke;"How dare you keep your nonexistent love life from us?"@@ Luke teases. Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"Right? The betrayal."@@ @@.player;"You two are the worst,"@@ you say, struggling to hold back a small smile. Luke smiles. @@.luke;"And yet, here you are, still sitting with us."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, last question!"@@ Samantha announces. @@.samantha;"Is there anyone in particular?"@@ You scoff. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm not answering that."@@ Samantha lets out a dramatic sigh. @@.samantha;"Boo."@@ Luke just grins. @@.luke;"Fair. We'll get it out of you eventually though."@@ <<elseif $d15romanceanswer is 2>>\ You hesitate for a second, then shrug. @@.player;"I mean... both?"@@ There's a brief pause—just long enough for you to wonder if you should've phrased it differently—before Samantha's lips curl into a smug grin. @@.samantha;"Ohhh. How... interesting."@@ Luke, on the other hand, looks delighted. @@.luke;"Dude, that's awesome!"@@ @@.player;"Why do you sound so excited?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.luke;"I dunno,"@@ Luke responds, shrugging. @@.luke;"It's just cool. Variety is the sugar and spice and everything nice of life, or whatever they say."@@ Samantha tilts her head. @@.samantha;"Yeah, I mean, it makes sense. I've always said you have mildly chaotic energy."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What does that have to do with anything?"@@ @@.samantha;"I'm just saying it tracks,"@@ Samantha says, smirking. Luke leans forward, his eyes meeting yours. @@.luke;"Okay, so follow-up question."@@ @@.player;"I knew this was coming,"@@ you murmur. Samantha waves a hand. @@.samantha;"Oh, come on. We're your best friends, $name. Naturally, we need to know the specifics."@@ Luke grins. @@.luke;"Yeah, like, do you lean one way or is it a full 50/50 situation?"@@ You groan. @@.player;"Why does this feel like a press conference?"@@ Samantha rests her chin on her palm. @@.samantha;"Because we're //very// interested."@@ You roll your eyes, but can't help the small chuckle that escapes your lips. @@.player;"I don't know. I haven't exactly done research on it."@@ @@.luke;"Sounds like a fun experiment, not gonna lie,"@@ Luke says, a wide grin plastered on his face. @@.samantha;"Exactly, it would be very educational,"@@ Samantha adds. You shake your head. @@.player;"I hate both of you."@@ Luke laughs. @@.luke;"Nah, you love us."@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"And you're stuck with us, so you might as well accept it."@@ <<elseif $d15romanceanswer is 3>>\ You pause, considering your words, then shrug. @@.player;"I don't really think about it that much, to be honest."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow, tilting her head. @@.samantha;"Huh."@@ Luke slows down mid-bite. @@.luke;"Like... at all?"@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"Not really. I mean, sure, people talk about crushes and dating and whatever, but I've never felt it was a huge deal. I guess I just have other stuff on my mind."@@ @@.samantha;"So, $name, what you're saying is..."@@ She leans in slightly. @@.samantha;"While the rest of us have been suffering through high school drama, messy breakups, and bad crushes, you've just been vibing?"@@ Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Kind of jealous, honestly."@@ @@.player;"I don't know, Luke,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.player;"I've seen you mope over people before. I'm not sure I'd want //that// experience."@@ He groans and shoves his face into his hands. @@.luke;"One time."@@ @@.samantha;"It was //not// one time,"@@ Samantha corrects, snorting. @@.luke;"Okay, fine, maybe two times,"@@ Luke protests. @@.luke;"Point is, $name's living the stress-free life, and I respect it."@@ Samantha crosses her arms. @@.samantha;"Yeah, but now I'm curious. You've //never// thought about it? Like, no crushes? No 'oh that person is kinda cute' moments?"@@ You groan, trying to think back. @@.player;"I mean... sure, I've noticed when people are attractive, I guess. But I've never really wanted to do anything about it."@@ @@.samantha;"Fair enough,"@@ Samantha says, shrugging. @@.samantha;"Love is a scam anyway."@@ Luke looks at her. @@.luke;"Didn't you have a crush on—"@@ She kicks him under the table. @@.samantha;"Irrelevant information."@@ @@.luke;"Duly noted."@@ @@.player;"I'm glad to see I'm missing out on //so// much,"@@ you say. <</if>>\ You shake your head. Despite their relentless teasing, there's something oddly reassuring about the whole thing. Just another dumb conversation, another normal lunch with your best friends. And honestly? That's kind of nice. <<button "Wrap it up" "Day 15 - 12">><</button>>

Theater class always has a certain energy to it—part excitement, part chaos, part pure unpredictability thanks to Mr. Bennet's flair for the dramatic. As you step into the auditorium, the scent of old wood and dust fills the air, the dimmed stage lights humming faintly overhead. Most of the class is already milling around, chatting in small groups or flipping through the script. The room feels charged in a way that it simply wasn't last class, probably because today is the day Mr. Bennet //really// starts to dive into Romeo and Juliet. You glance around and spot Jordan toward the back of the room, leaning against a row of seats with his arms crossed. There's a sharp focus in his expression, as if he's bracing himself for whatever's coming. Before you can think too much about it, the doors swing open, and Mr. Bennet strides in with his usual theatrical flair. His scarf—he always wears a scarf—is draped over one shoulder, and he claps his hands together with the enthusiasm of a man who knows he's about to change lives. @@.boy;"Ah, my dear aspiring performers!"@@ he announces, his voice effortlessly carrying through the auditorium. @@.boy;"I trust you've all done your reading?"@@ A few students murmur half-hearted confirmations, while others exchange guilty glances, clearly hoping they won't be called out. Mr. Bennet sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. @@.boy;"Oh, the tragedy of unread Shakespeare! The injustice done to The Bard of Avon himself! But fear not, for today, we shall redeem ourselves."@@ His eyes sweep over the class. @@.boy;"Let's see who truly absorbed the poetry of young love and fatal misunderstandings."@@ He spins on his heel, his scarf trailing behind him. @@.boy;"We will begin with a simple exercise. I want you all to think about the story so far—the love, the feuds, the tension! And now... I want you to describe //Romeo and Juliet// in just one word."@@ He pauses for effect before gesturing broadly. @@.boy;"Be bold! Be honest! And above all—be dramatic!"@@ You glance around as your peers hesitate, thinking over their responses. What word do you pick? <<button "Overdramatic" "Day 15 - 13">>\<<set $d15describerj to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Tragic" "Day 15 - 13">>\<<set $d15describerj to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Romantic" "Day 15 - 13">>\<<set $d15describerj to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Stupid" "Day 15 - 13">>\<<set $d15describerj to 3>>\<</button>> <<button "Fate" "Day 15 - 13">>\<<set $d15describerj to 4>>\<</button>>

<<if $d15describerj is 0>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You cross your arms, thinking for a moment before shrugging. @@.player;"Overdramatic."@@ A few students chuckle under their breath, and from the back of the room, you hear Jordan scoff. Mr. Bennet, however, gasps like you just slapped Shakespeare himself. He clutches his scarf dramatically, spinning on his heel to face you fully. @@.boy;"Overdramatic"@@ he repeats, eyes wide with horror. @@.boy;"My dear student, you wound me."@@ @@.player;"I mean, come on,"@@ you begin. @@.player;"They meet, they fall in love in one night, and they make the worst decisions possible. Then boom, double tragedy. It's a lot."@@ Your drama teacher exhales through his nose, pacing the stage and snapping his fingers as he gathers himself. @@.boy;"Yes, yes, I see now. You are the practical sort. The kind who watches a grand romantic gesture and says, 'Well, that was unnecessary.'"@@ He shakes his head. @@.boy;"A tragic condition."@@ Some students laugh. Mr. Bennet isn't done though. He turns to you, pointing with dramatic intent. @@.boy;"And yet! Isn't life itself overdramatic? Are we not creatures of passion and impulse? Do we not all make reckless choices in the name of love, of anger, of fate?"@@ @@.player;"I mean, yeah, but I don't think most people take it to //that// level."@@ @@.boy;"Ah, but isn't that what makes it theater?"@@ he counters, eyes gleaming. @@.boy;"We do not come to the stage for the reasonable or the logical—we come for the heightened! The exaggerated! The spectacular!"@@ He throws his arms out. A few students even clap at the performance he's putting on. @@.boy;"A fair answer, $name,"@@ Mr. Bennet says after collecting himself. @@.boy;"Perhaps a skeptical one, but fair."@@ With that, he sweeps his gaze across the room. @@.boy;"Who else dares challenge the ''magnitude'' of this story?"@@ You shake your head, biting back a smile as he moves on. Maybe //Romeo and Juliet// is ridiculous—but at least Mr. Bennet makes talking about it entertaining. <<elseif $d15describerj is 1>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You think for a second before giving the most honest answer you can. @@.player;"Tragic."@@ From across the room, Jordan—who had been leaning back in his seat, arms crossed like he wasn't paying attention—actually nods. Mr. Bennet, however, lets out an exaggerated sigh, as if your response physically pains him. He presses a hand to his chest, pacing the stage like he's carrying the weight of Shakespeare's sorrow himself. @@.boy;"Tragic,"@@ he repeats, drawing out the word like it's poetry. @@.boy;"Yes, yes, of course. How cruel the world is! How unforgiving!"@@ A few students chuckle, but you just raise an eyebrow and wait for him to get to his point. He spins on his heel, leveling you with an intense gaze. @@.boy;"And tell me, $name—//why// is it tragic?"@@ He gestures dramatically. @@.boy;"Is it the foolishness of youth? The bitter grip of fate? The wretched feuding of their families?"@@ @@.player;"All of it, really,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"It's not just that Romeo and Juliet die—it's that they never had a chance. Everything was against them from the start. They thought love was enough, but it didn't matter in the end. The world still tore them apart."@@ There's a beat of silence. Then, from the back of the room, Jordan speaks. @@.jordan;"Exactly."@@ It's the first time he's said anything this whole class. You glance over at him. He doesn't elaborate, opting to just shift slightly in his seat, but his expression is more thoughtful than usual—like he's been waiting for someone else to say it first. Mr. Bennet, meanwhile, looks delighted. @@.boy;"Oh, excellent!"@@ He gestures wildly, nearly sending his scarf flying. @@.boy;"Yes! That is the ''true'' tragedy! The inescapable weight of destiny! The cruel hands of the universe closing around them, no matter how hard they fight!"@@ He spins, addressing the whole class now. @@.boy;"And //that// is why this play has lasted centuries! Because deep down, we all know what it is like to be powerless against forces beyond our control."@@ There's a murmur of interest across the room, though some students still look checked out. Jordan, however, leans forward slightly, his eyes lingering on the stage. Mr. Bennet turns back to you, nodding. @@.boy;"An excellent answer, $name. Painful, but excellent."@@ He clasps his hands together, surveying the room. @@.boy;"Now, who dares to disagree?"@@ As he moves on, you steal a quick glance toward Jordan. He's already looking away, but there's the faintest ghost of a smirk on his face. Maybe theater class won't be so bad after all. <<elseif $d15describerj is 2>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You think about it for a second, then say, @@.player;"Romantic."@@ Mr. Bennet gasps, clasping his hands together. @@.boy;"Ahh! Finally, someone who understands!"@@ He gestures wildly to the class. @@.boy;"Yes! Love! Passion! Devotion! The grand, sweeping romance that has captured hearts for generations!"@@ A few students laugh, but from the back of the room, you catch the faintest reaction from Jordan—a slight tilt of his head, almost like he approves. Mr. Bennet is already in full performance mode. @@.boy;"Some may call it foolish! Others may class it reckless. But I ask you, is there anything more compelling than the burning intensity of love at first sight?"@@ He spins dramatically before zeroing in on you again. @@.boy;"Tell me, $name—what about it speaks to you?"@@ @@.player;"I mean, yeah, it's reckless, but that's what makes it romantic,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"It's about that feeling of wanting someone so much that nothing else even matters. Romeo and Juliet //know// it's dangerous, but they do it anyway."@@ Jordan shifts slightly, fingers tapping against his knee. He doesn't say anything, but you can tell he's thinking. Mr. Bennet, meanwhile, looks delighted. @@.boy;"Yes, yes, yes! That is the heart of it! Love is not reasonable! It does not wait! It does not ask permission! It consumes and devours!"@@ A few students murmur in amusement. @@.boy;"You, $name, see the beauty of it,"@@ Mr. Bennet states. @@.boy;"You understand that romance—true, overwhelming romance—is not a slow, careful thing. It is madness! It is fate!"@@ He grins, clearly pleased. @@.boy;"A fine answer, my dear student. A very fine answer indeed."@@ You can't help but smile too. Mr. Bennet's theatrics have at least made every class memorable. <<elseif $d15describerj is 3>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You don't even have to think about it. You exhale and mutter, @@.player;"Stupid."@@ The reaction is immediate. Mr. Bennet clutches his chest like you just stabbed him through the heart. A dramatic, tortured gasp escapes his lips as he staggers back, nearly tripping over his own oversized scarf. @@.boy;"Stupid?"@@ he repeats, his voice dripping with despair. @@.boy;"Oh, cruel fate, to hear such blasphemy spoken in my very own classroom."@@ The class chuckles, but not everyone is amused. From the back of the room, you feel a sharp, disapproving glare burning into you. Jordan. You glance his way, and yeah, he looks mad. His arms crossed and jaws clenched, it's clear he didn't like your answer. Nr. Bennet, meanwhile, is still mid-breakdown. @@.boy;"$name, my poor misguided soul, please tell me—what about this timeless masterpiece has led you to such grievous misjudgment?"@@ @@.boy;"I mean, come on,"@@ you begin. @@.player;"They meet, they talk for maybe five minutes, and suddenly, it's the most intense love in history? Then they die because neither of them knows how to just stop and think for two seconds? It's //really// dumb."@@ A few students snicker, but Mr. Bennet looks like he might actually faint. He rubs his temples, muttering something about "the youth of today" and "Shakespeare weeps." And Jordan? He scoffs. Loudly. You glance back at him, but he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. @@.jordan;"You don't get it,"@@ he mutters, shaking his head. It's the most emotion you've ever heard from him in class. Mr. Bennet, still looking deeply disappointed, sighs and straightens up. @@.boy;"My dear $name, while I deeply mourn your take, I must commend your conviction. Even if it is entirely incorrect."@@ @@.boy;"Now! Before I descend into despair, let us hear from someone who still has a soul."@@ The class moves on, but you can feel Jordan's irritation lingering in the air. You'll have to deal with that at some point. <<elseif $d15describerj is 4>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You think for a moment before settling on your answer. @@.player;"Fate."@@ From the back of the room, Jordan shifts slightly. You don't even have to look to know he's listening. Mr. Bennet's expression immediately brightens. @@.boy;"Yes!"@@ he exclaims, eyes gleaming with approval. @@.boy;"A believer in the grand design! In destiny! In the invisible hands that shape our lives!"@@ @@.player;"I mean, that's kind of the whole point of the play, isn't it?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"No matter what Romeo and Juliet do, things are already set in motion. They don't //choose// tragedy—it was always going to happen."@@ Jordan speaks before Mr. Bennet can. @@.jordan;"Exactly."@@ You glance toward him, and for once, there's something thoughtful in his expression—like he actually respects your answer. Mr. Bennet, now fully in his element, gestures dramatically. @@.boy;"Ah, the cruel hands of destiny! The lovers, star-crossed from the very beginning! Do they control their own fates, or were they doomed from the moment they met?"@@ He turns back to you, pointing. @@.boy;"Tell me, $name—do //you// believe in fate?"@@ You hesitate, caught off guard. @@.player;"I don't know."@@ @@.boy;"An honest answer,"@@ Mr. Bennet states, smiling knowingly before turning to the rest of the class. @@.boy;"Whether we believe in it or not, fate is inescapable in the world of Shakespeare! And that, my dear students, is what makes this story so ''powerful''!"@@ He claps his hands, moving on to the next student. You let out a quiet breath, glad you handled things well. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 15 - 14">><</button>>

Mr. Bennet paces at the front of the room, his hands clasped behind his back, the tails of his scarf swishing dramatically with each step. @@.boy;"Now that we've warmed up our minds, it's time to breathe life into the words!"@@ You already know what's coming. @@.boy;"For today's exercise, we will be pairing up for a reading."@@ He spins on his hell, grinning. @@.boy;"Not a performance—not yet. Just a reading. The goal? To feel the rhythm, the passion, and the weight of the words on your tongue!"@@ A few students exchange nervous glances. Mr. Bennet waves a hand. @@.boy;"You may choose your own partners //for now//. But be warned! Chemistry, my dear students, matters!"@@ You barely have time to process that before people start moving. Some rush to their best friends, while others linger. You glance around the room, weighing your options. You glance toward ''Jordan'' first. He hasn't moved yet, still sitting at the back of the room, arms crossed, gaze flicking toward the stage like he's running through lines in his head. He looks deep in thought, but not in his usual way—more like he's debating something. Maybe about who to work with. Maybe about the scene itself. Or maybe about how much he hates being in a room full of people. You could approach him. He might say yes. Or he might glare at you. Hard to tell. Then, your gaze shifts to someone else. Near the middle of the room, a girl stands alone, gripping a copy of the script with both hands like it's a lifeline. She flips through the pages quickly—//too// quickly, like she's not actually reading, but moving to keep herself occupied. Her hair falls over her face slightly, and she tugs at the sleeve of her oversized sweater, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She looks... nervous. Like she's waiting for someone to ask her to pair up but doesn't quite have the courage to make the first move. You have two options. <<button "Jordan" "Day 15 - Jordan">>\<<set $d15partner to true>>\<<trackChoice "D15_scene_partner" "jordan" "story">><</button>> <<button "The nervous girl" "Day 15 - Noelle">>\<<set $d15partner to false>>\<<trackChoice "D15_scene_partner" "noelle" "story">><</button>>

As the final pairs wrap their scenes up, the energy in the auditorium begins to shift—less adrenaline, more awareness. Students settle into their seats or drift toward corners to whisper about who nailed it and who flopped. Scripts rustle. Feet shuffle. A few kids laugh nervously, not quite sure whether to feel proud or doomed. Mr. Bennet claps once. Loud. Sharp. The entire room stills. He steps into the center of the performance floor like the world is his stage—his ever-present scarf trailing dramatically behind him, binder hugged to his chest like it contains sacred scrolls. @@.boy;"Brilliant,"@@ he says, taking in the group. @@.boy;"Some of you,"@@ he adds, eyes narrowing slightly, @@.boy;"are beginning to truly listen to the words. To feel them. To let them breathe."@@ He smiles, and though it's genuine, there's a glint of warning behind it. @@.boy;"Others,"@@ he says, @@.boy;"are still treating this like a class presentation."@@ His eyes land on a boy in the back row who immediately averts his gaze. Mr. Bennet walks to the foot of the stage and drops his binder on the chair with a heavy //thump//. @@.boy;"Now, listen closely, because this next part is very important."@@ He clasps his hands, posture straightening like a king issuing a decree. @@.boy;"This week is what I call the ''funnel''. All the play's pieces, all the potential, all the little bursts of brilliance I saw today—they get narrowed. Sharpened. Defined."@@ He paces in front of the stage, voice steady. @@.boy;"Auditions will happen by next week. Which means everything you say, everything you do, will be watched very, very closely."@@ A few students sit up straighter. @@.boy;"I will not simply cast based on who speaks the loudest,"@@ he continues. @@.boy;"I am watching how you listen. How you //react//. What choices you make when the spotlight is //not// on you."@@ He sweeps his arm dramatically. @@.boy;"So be bold. Be specific. Be present."@@ Then, a sudden pause. Mr. Bennet raises a single finger. @@.boy;"Before I make any decisions though, I want to know //you//. Not your characters. ''You.''"@@ @@.boy;"I will be calling each of you, one at a time, to speak with me privately,"@@ Mr. Bennet continues. @@.boy;"I want to hear what role you see yourself in, and why."@@ Someone mutters under her breath, @@.girl;"It's like a therapy session."@@ Mr. Bennet smiles, having heard it. @@.boy;"Precisely. Consider it //emotional dramaturgy//."@@ A few students chuckle, but most of the room shifts with nervous anticipation. You're not sure if you'll be called early or late, but a conversation with your drama teacher is inevitable. He claps his hands again. @@.boy;"Until your name is called, feel free to review your scripts, run lines, or rehearse—//quietly//. No TikToks. No sword fights. And for heaven's sake, do not set the curtain on fire. I already dealt with that last year."@@ You're not sure if the last part is a joke. Mr. Bennet makes his way to a small desk near the side of the auditorium stage, pulls a chair next to it, and sits. Then he looks up and says the first name. It's not yours. You've got a little time. <<button "Wait" "Day 15 - 16">><</button>>

The minutes stretch on. Around you, the class has quieted to a low hum. A few pairs whisper lines in corners. One girl is pacing and mouthing her monologue with intense concentration. Another group is clearly trying to rehearse but keeps breaking into laughter. You keep glancing at Mr. Bennet. With every name he calls, your chest tightens a little more. One by one, he speaks to each student briefly, sometimes for a few seconds, sometimes for minutes. He always stands after, scribbling something into his binder and waving the next person over without fanfare. And then: @@.boy;"$name."@@ You look up. His tone isn't sharp, but it carries ''weight''—heavier than usual. There's no dramatic flourish this time, no exaggerated bow or teasing grin. He gestures with two fingers toward the chair beside his. The auditorium noise fades into a distant hum as you rise. Each step toward him feels unusually loud, your shoes echoing against the floor. The closer you get, the more you realize that he's not performing right now. This is Mr. Bennet without the scarf-waving, spotlight-loving grandeur. And that's a lot worse. You sit. The chair creaks slightly under you. Mr. Bennet doesn't move for a long moment. His binder is closed. His eyes are on you. And he looks... tired, maybe. Or just deeply, deeply focused. He doesn't speak right away. Doesn't even offer a greeting. When he finally does speak, his voice is quieter—controlled, serious. @@.boy;"You showed something today."@@ You blink. It's not a compliment. It's more like... a diagnosis. @@.boy;"This isn't just a class for me,"@@ he continues, calm and low. @@.boy;"I don't //care// about reciting lines. I care about finding out who someone becomes when they step into something bigger than themselves."@@ The silence that follows that sentence is //long//. Then— @@.boy;"So."@@ He folds his hands over the binder. @@.boy;"What role do you want?"@@ There's no wink. No cheeky smile. No playful teasing. Just the question. The kind that feels like it matters. Whatever you say here—he's going to believe in you. <<button "I want Romeo's role" "Day 15 - 17">>\<<set $d15bennetplay to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D15_play_role" "romeo" "story">><</button>> <<button "I want Juliet's role" "Day 15 - 17">>\<<set $d15bennetplay to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D15_play_role" "juliet" "story">><</button>> <<button "I want a supporting role" "Day 15 - 17">>\<<set $d15bennetplay to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D15_play_role" "supporting" "story">><</button>> <<button "I want to be backstage" "Day 15 - 17">>\<<set $d15bennetplay to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D15_play_role" "backstage" "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't know yet" "Day 15 - 17">>\<<set $d15bennetplay to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D15_play_role" "idk" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d15bennetplay is 0>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I think I'd like to play Romeo,"@@ you admit. <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ Mr. Bennet's eyes linger on you the moment the word leaves your mouth. @@.boy;"Romeo."@@ He repeats it—thoughtfully, not skeptically. Measuring it. Testing the shape of it against the shape of you. His gaze isn't unkind, but it is sharp, and it holds longer than you expect. You shift slightly in your seat, hyperaware of your posture and the way your shirt falls. You've gotten used to people looking at you with a certain kind of curiosity lately—trying to figure you out without saying so. But Mr. Bennet doesn't look confused or surprised. Just focused. @@.boy;"I see,"@@ he finally says, voice calm. @@.boy;"Tell me why."@@ You take a deep breath before starting. @@.player;"I want to play someone who feels everything. Who rushes into things not because he's reckless or anything, but because he has to."@@ Mr. Bennet doesn't interrupt. @@.player;"Romeo gets written off as dramatic or weak. But I don't think he is. If anything, I think he's brave. He just... feels things so deeply, so completely, that he doesn't always know what to do with it. And when he finally finds something real, he throws himself at it."@@ You pause, then add, @@.player;"That makes sense to me."@@ Mr. Bennet watches you with that same stillness. You're used to people seeing Romeo as a type—charming, straightforward, traditionally masculine. You know what you look like. And you know it's not what most people picture when they imagine him. But he doesn't question it. Doesn't ask if you're sure. Doesn't raise an eyebrow or give you a patronizing smile. He just nods. Slowly. @@.boy;"Romeo has always been cast as a boy standing on the edge of manhood,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"But maybe that's never what he was. Maybe he's just someone searching for who he's allowed to be."@@ Your breath catches a little at that. Mr. Bennet leans back, arms crossed loosely. @@.boy;"If I give you the role, I won't ask you to perform masculinity for the sake of comfort. I won't want some hollow echo of a romantic lead. I'll want //you//. As you are. If that's something you can give."@@ @@.player;"It is,"@@ you promise. He holds your gaze for a beat longer, then picks up his pen and jots something into his binder. @@.boy;"Thank you, $name."@@ You rise. The moment lingers in your chest as you walk back across the auditorium. He won't ask you to change, but he will ask you to show up. And you will. <<else>>\ Mr. Bennet studies you for a moment longer. Then, he leans back in his chair, just slightly, and nods once. @@.boy;"Romeo."@@ He says it like he's trying the word out, testing how it fits around you—not as a judgment, but as a challenge. @@.boy;"You know,"@@ he says slowly, @@.boy;"most students who ask for Romeo want him for the wrong reasons. They see him as the lead, the star, the tragic heartthrob who dies for love. They want the stage, not the soul."@@ He tilts his head, sharp gaze locked on yours. @@.boy;"That's not why you want him."@@ It's not a question. It's a statement. @@.player;"It's not about being the lead,"@@ you begin, not sure how to even explain it all. @@.player;"I just... I connect with him. I get it—feeling too much, too fast. Saying something before you understand what it really means. Screwing it all up because you couldn't slow down."@@ Mr. Bennet says nothing, but his eyes soften. @@.player;"I don't think Romeo's weak,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"I think he's just young. He feels things hard, and maybe he's impulsive, but he means it every time. He means everything."@@ Mr. Bennet lets the silence stretch for a beat longer, then murmurs. @@.boy;"He burns too hot and too fast."@@ He taps a finger once on his binder. @@.boy;"And yet... he changes. From Rosaline to Juliet. From childish romance to something terrifyingly real."@@ You nod. @@.player;"He grows, yeah, but not enough. I guess that's what makes him tragic."@@ Mr. Bennet leans forward again, hands folded and voice quiet. @@.boy;"You look like someone people expect to play Romeo,"@@ he says, not unkindly. @@.boy;"And that means something on stage. But what really makes a good Romeo—what makes an honest one—doesn't come from your build."@@ @@.boy;"If I give you the part, I don't want you to play it safe,"@@ your drama teacher states. @@.boy;"I want your version. The //real// version. Messy. Sincere. The boy who wants so badly to do the right thing, but keeps falling short."@@ You swallow, your pulse loud in your ears. @@.boy;"Think you can do that, $name?"@@ he asks. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah, I think I can."@@ Mr. Bennet watches you for a beat longer, then reaches for his pen and jots something down in his binder. His voice softens. @@.boy;"Alright. Thank you."@@ You take that as your cue. Rising from the chair, you glance back only once. He's already calling the next name. But you don't need him to say anything else. He heard you. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d15bennetplay is 1>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You say it. @@.player;"I want to play Juliet."@@ The words echo in the air for a moment longer than they should. Not because Mr. Bennet didn't hear you, but because he's weighing it carefully. <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ @@.boy;"You know what that means, don't you?"@@ he says softly. @@.boy;"Choosing her."@@ You nod. You don't even flinch. Because you do know. You've caught the stares in the hallway. The subtle comments. The uncertainty in people's eyes when they look at you now—like they're trying to place you in a box that no longer fits. You've watched your reflection change over the past two weeks into something softer, rounder, and unfamiliar. Choosing Juliet isn't about spectacle. It's not even about gender. It's about... resonance. @@.player;"I know,"@@ you respond. @@.player;"But I don't think I've ever connected with a character the way I do with her."@@ Mr. Bennet nods slowly. @@.boy;"She's so often played as fragile. Porcelain. A girl who falls in love and dies for it. But she's not that."@@ @@.player;"She's like fire,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Quiet fire. She knows what she's giving up and she makes that choice with clarity and strength."@@ His gaze sharpens, just slightly. You can feel the test in it—not a challenge, not a "prove it." Just a quiet: //Are you ready for this?// And you are. You continue, voice steadier now. @@.player;"I want to show people that Juliet's strength comes not from loud speeches or showy movements, but in how she holds herself. How she stands up to everyone around her—not by force, but by being sure of what she wants."@@ Mr. Bennet is silent for a moment. Then, almost more to himself, he murmurs, @@.boy;"A Juliet who doesn't bend. She chooses."@@ @@.boy;"There will be eyes on you,"@@ he says, his voice thoughtful. @@.boy;"People who want to read a statement into every breath you take on stage. I won't shield you from that."@@ You sit with that. Let it settle. Then, you say, @@.player;"I'm not asking to be protected. I don't //want// to be protected. I'm asking to be seen."@@ That lands. Mr. Bennet exhales through his nose, picks up his pen, and scribbles something carefully into his binder. Then he closes it. @@.boy;"Thank you, $name,"@@ he says, meeting your eyes one last time. You rise. As you walk back across the auditorium floor, the room buzzes faintly around you—students practicing, whispering, waiting. But it all feels far away. Because right now, one thing is clear: You asked for Juliet. And you meant every word. <<else>>\ Then he leans forward, resting his elbows on the binder in his lap. His voice is quieter now, more serious than dramatic. @@.boy;"Juliet,"@@ he repeats, like he's making sure you said it for the right reason. @@.boy;"Not for shock value or to prove something. You mean it."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah, I do."@@ He watches you, not with skepticism, but with a kind of measured curiosity. His eyes flicker—once, briefly—down your posture, your frame, your shoulders. You still look like a guy. Still read that way. And you know exactly how it sounds—for a guy who looks like you do to ask for that part. But he doesn't ask you to explain yourself. Not yet. He just waits. So you take a breath and say, @@.player;"She's not just the girl in the window. She's smart. Brave. She sees all the ways the world is trying to control her, and she chooses anyway. She knows what love costs, and she walks into it with her eyes open."@@ You pause. @@.player;"She's not passive. She's powerful. I want to honor it."@@ Mr. Bennet lets out a slow exhale, and for once, he doesn't leap into some grand monologue. @@.boy;"A boy playing Juliet will draw attention,"@@ he admits. @@.boy;"That's inevitable. And I won't cast someone in that role unless I know they're ready for what it'll mean—on and off the stage."@@ Your chest tightens slightly, but you nod. @@.player;"I know."@@ @@.boy;"Do you?"@@ he asks. @@.boy;"Because this won't be easy. Not with how you present. Some people will call it brave. Others will call it something else."@@ You hold his gaze, unwilling to waver. @@.player;"I'm not doing it for them."@@ Something shifts in his expression. Not surprise—just quiet understanding. He leans back, opens his binder, and writes something slowly. When he finishes, he looks up one last time. @@.boy;"If I give you Juliet, I won't expect you to be anything other than what you are. But I //will// expect you to mean every word you say."@@ @@.player;"I can do that,"@@ you promise. He nods. @@.boy;"Thank you, $name."@@ You stand. As you walk back into the soft hum of the auditorium, the words still hang in your chest like an anchor and a promise at once. Juliet. Something about her already feels like a part of you. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d15bennetplay is 2>>\ @@.player;"I'd like a supporting role, to be honest,"@@ you mutter. Mr. Bennet tilts his head slightly at your answer. @@.boy;"A supporting role."@@ He repeats it, not to question you, but to feel the weight of it. Then he leans back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ @@.boy;"You're not the first student to say that,"@@ he says, folding his hands over his binder. @@.boy;"But you might be one of the few who actually mean it."@@ You feel his eyes glance over you—not in a judgmental; way, but in that assessing, theatrical way he has. Taking in the softness of your features. He doesn't comment on it. He doesn't need to. You can tell he's already adjusting his mental casting map. @@.boy;"I take it you're not gunning for Juliet,"@@ he says, voice even, not teasing. You shake your head. @@.player;"I'm not against it. I just... think there are other places I'd fit better. A role that adds to the story, not defines it."@@ Mr. Bennet hums, flipping open his binder. @@.boy;"Well, then. Let's talk options."@@ His fingers trace a list of names. @@.boy;'There's the nurse,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"She's bold, funny, deeply emotional—and the last voice of reason before things fall apart."@@ @@.player;"Seriously?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"She's more than comic relief, $name,"@@ Mr. Bennet states, raising an eyebrow. @@.boy;"She's one of the few characters in the play who loves Juliet without condition. And she's //very// protective. She's lived a life. That can be played with depth."@@ You nod slowly, a little surprised by his words. @@.boy;"There's also Lady Capulet,"@@ he continues. @@.boy;"Underused in most productions. But there's weight there. Anger, grief, class pressure. She's complicated. Easy to play flat. Difficult to play human."@@ You sit with that. The idea of playing a mother feels strange but not wrong. Mr. Bennet picks up his pen and scribbles something slowly into the margin of his notes. <<else>>\ @@.boy;"Not everyone's drawn to the center,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"Some of the strongest performances I've ever directed came from the second row—the ones who listen, who react, who hold the scene in place while the leads burn hot."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I don't need to be the one delivering the big speeches,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I just want to be part of something that matters."@@ There's a flicker of something that looks like approval in his eyes. @@.boy;"Very fair,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"And given how you present, you'll be considered for the traditional male roles."@@ He flips open his binder, scanning a page with quick, practiced eyes. @@.boy;"Mercutio,"@@ he murmurs. @@.boy;"That's the obvious one. He's loud, reckless, and loyal to a fault. The kind of character who explodes into a scene and steals it if the actor knows how to walk that edge."@@ He looks back up at you. @@.boy;"You could do it,"@@ he says simply. @@.boy;"But he's not easy. Mercutio hides a lot behind that wit."@@ You nod, thoughtful. @@.player;"Yeah, I've always liked him. He's messy, but he's honest in his own way."@@ @@.boy;"Precisely,"@@ Mr. Bennet replies. @@.boy;"And then there's Benvolio. He's quieter, calmer. The peacekeeper. Often overlooked, but crucial to the story's balance."@@ @@.player;"I'll keep both in mind,"@@ you say. You shift in your seat slightly, and he notices. @@.boy;"A supporting role is not what most people ask for. But then again, most people don't know what they want. You do."@@ He closes the binder gently. <</if>>\ @@.boy;"Supporting roles aren't lesser roles, $name. They're just... steadier. And this show needs steady."@@ @@.player;"I'm good with that,"@@ you say. Mr. Bennet writes something down and then looks back up at you with a smile. @@.boy;"Thank you,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"You can head back."@@ You rise and return to the rows of auditorium chairs, passing the stage lights and worn curtains. You may not be at the center, but you //are// part of the story. And sometimes, that's where the real weight lives. <<elseif $d15bennetplay is 3>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident - 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Honestly, I think I'd rather help backstage,"@@ you admit. Mr. Bennet's eyes don't immediately react when you say it. There's no flicker of disapproval or a dramatic sigh. Just stillness. But after a few moments, he leans back in his chair, fingertips tapping gently against his binder. @@.boy;"I see."@@ He doesn't say anything else right away. The silence stretches—not awkwardly, but heavily. And for the first time in class, you feel the absence of his usual energy. Then, finally, he speaks—his voice lower, more serious than usual. @@.boy;"You know,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"I see a lot of students come through this program wanting the lead. Wanting lines and applause, the rush of the spotlight."@@ He pauses. @@.boy;"None of them have impressed me the way you did today."@@ @@.player;"I'm not saying I didn't like it,"@@ you offer. @@.player;"I just... I don't know if I'm ready to be up there. Not like that."@@ Mr. Bennet nods slowly. He's not disappointed //in// you—he's disappointed //for// you. Yet, despite that, he doesn't push. @@.boy;"It takes a different kind of strength,"@@ he says, @@.boy;"to admit you're not ready for something. Or that you'd rather be useful in a quieter way."@@ He flips open the binder, pen in hand, but doesn't write anything just yet. @@.boy;"Backstage is the heart of a play,"@@ he says, almost reverent now. @@.boy;"Costumes, props, lighting, cues—all of it is invisible until it fails. And when it doesn't? That's when it's ''magic''."@@ You manage a small smile. He meets your eyes again. @@.boy;"I won't stop you from stepping back, $name. I won't try to drag you into something you're not ready for. But I do hope..."@@ He pauses, thoughtful. @@.boy;"I do hope you keep your heart open to it. Because I've seen what you're capable of. And I'd hate for you to bury it."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Mr. Bennet."@@ He nods, finally jotting something down. @@.boy;"Costume, prop, or tech team—you can decide later,"@@ he states. @@.boy;"We'll find a place for you."@@ You rise, taking one last glance at the stage as you walk away. It's strange. You don't feel like you failed. Not at all. Just... like you're waiting for the right moment to step forward. And for now? You'll help build something behind the curtain. Because maybe, in your own time, the spotlight will be waiting. <<elseif $d15bennetplay is 4>>\ @@.player;"I... don't know yet,"@@ you have to admit. Mr. Bennet doesn't react right away, letting the words hang there for a second. You almost regret saying them. Not because they're untrue, but because they feel small in a space like this. Everyone else has probably marched in here with a character in mind. A goal. A dream. And you? You're still figuring out what all of this even //means// to you. But Mr. Bennet doesn't scoff. Doesn't raise an eyebrow or give you one of those disappointed teacher sighs. Instead, he nods once, slowly. Then closes his binder gently, as if making space for the conversation to shift. @@.boy;"That might be the most honest thing anyone's told me all day.'@@ You blink. He leans forward just slightly, folding his hands. @@.boy;"This is the part no one likes to talk about. The middle. The space between knowing and not knowing. The part where you're testing the weight of your own voice, deciding which parts of yourself are real—and which ones were just borrowed from someone else's expectations."@@ You don't say anything. @@.boy;"I don't expect everyone to talk in here with answers,"@@ he continues. @@.boy;"I expect you to look. To try. To probe at things that feel strange and uncomfortable. And if something calls to you? You listen."@@ You nod slowly, the breath you'd been holding finally slipping out. @@.player;"I guess that's where I'm at. Trying to figure out what feels... right."@@ His voice softens, not condescending, but kind. @@.boy;"Then do that. Try the scenes. Read the lines that scare you a little. Stand next to the people who challenge you."@@ He gives you a small smile. Not his usual wide theatrical grin—just a quiet one, real and steady. @@.boy;"I'd rather work with someone who's searching than someone pretending they've already arrived."@@ He opens his binder again and scribbles something in the margin—quick and casual. Not a verdict, but rather a note. @@.boy;"Take your time,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"You've still got time. Keep your ears open. Let the text pull you. And if something starts to feel like yours?"@@ He looks at you again. @@.boy;"Do ''not'' be afraid to step into it."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Thanks, Mr. Bennet."@@ @@.boy;"Thank //you//, $name."@@ As you stand and walk back across the auditorium, you realize you don't need to know yet. But you're allowed to find out. And maybe, that's the most important part of all. <</if>>\ <<button "It's a wrap!" "Day 15 - 18">><</button>>

By the time the bell rings, most students are spilling out toward the parking lot. Their backpacks are slung low; they're already forgetting whatever assignments they were just given. But not you. You make your way to the school library instead, the familiar scent of old books and printer toner wrapping around you the moment you step inside. It's quiet—peaceful in a way most parts of the school never are. The kind of place where time stretches out just enough for you to breathe. You head toward one of the long tables near the windows, flipping open your backpack to pull out your laptop. And then— @@.vincent;"Oh!"@@ You glance up. Vincent's standing near the end of the aisle, clutching a stack of books to his chest. His hair's a little messier than usual, like he ran a hand through it one too many times. There's a pencil tucked behind his ear. He's decided to participate in Pajama Day, wearing a faded graphic tee with a pixelated spaceship. But it's his //face// that catches your notice. He looks genuinely happy to see you. His whole expression lifts, like you're the last person he expected to run into—but exactly the one he wanted. @@.vincent;"I didn't think anyone else came here after class,"@@ he says, walking over with a nervous little laugh. @@.vincent;"Everyone always bolts like the school's on fire. Not that I blame them, but..."@@ He trails off, shrugging. @@.vincent;"Hi."@@ @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"What are you working on?"@@ Vincent glances down at the books in his arms. @@.vincent;"History. I started with French diplomacy, but then I found this book about Rasputin—//the// Rasputin—and did you know he survived being poisoned, shot, and thrown into this freezing river before he finally died? Like, it's actually insane! I ended up down this whole rabbit hole about how people used to think he had mystical powers, but really it was just adrenaline and, like, sheer stubborn weirdness. Anyway."@@ He stops, suddenly aware of how much he's talking. @@.vincent;"Sorry. I get... into it."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"So, the usual."@@ Vincent hesitates, shifting on his feet, then blurts. @@.vincent;"Do you wanna study together?"@@ He adds quickly, @@.vincent;"Only if you want to! No pressure! I just thought—"@@ He trails off, eyes darting away like he's already regretting asking. He clutches his books a little tighter, knuckles pale. @@.vincent;"I mean, you probably have your own system or whatever. And I talk a lot. Some people say too much. So it's fine if not."@@ He forces a small laugh, too quick to be real. @@.vincent;"I usually study alone anyway."@@ You can tell he's trying to sound like it doesn't matter. Like this was just an offhand suggestion, not something he actually worked up the courage to ask. But there's this flicker in his expression—gone almost as soon as it appears. Not quite hope, but something close. Something you've seen before. And now the choice is yours. <<button "Yeah, I'd like that" "Day 15 - Study (Vincent)">>\<<set $d15vincentstudy to true>>\<<trackChoice "D15_study_with_vincent" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Maybe another time" "Day 15 - Study (Solo)">>\<<set $d15vincentstudy to false>>\<<trackChoice "D15_study_with_vincent" false "story">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/home-exteriornd.png"> <<if $lilyRelo > 34>>\ <<grantAchievement "D15LilyPorch">>\ When you round the corner and step into the front walk, the first thing you see is your sister—Lily. She's perched on the porch railing like it's her throne. She's wearing a hoodie that might've once been yours and a pair of beat-up pajama pants. Her wolfcut is a little messier than usual, black strands falling into her eyes, and she's chewing on a lollipop stick. You pause halfway up the steps. @@.lily;"Took you long enough,"@@ she says, not moving. You blink. @@.player;"What are you doing here?"@@ She shrugs. @@.lily;"Chilling. Waiting. Whatever."@@ @@.player;"Waiting for me?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow as you climb the steps. She rolls her eyes like it's a stupid question, then gestures to the empty spot. @@.lily;"Come on, don't be weird, $name. Just sit."@@ You drop your backpack and sit beside her. She doesn't say anything right away, opting to just stare out at the street, the sky dark. There's the smell of someone's backyard grill in the distance, and for a second, it feels like summer again. Lily kicks her heel against the porch post a few times before finally saying, @@.lily;"You've been weird lately."@@ @@.player;"Gee, thanks,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"No, not //bad// weird,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Just different. You're always leaving early and coming home late. You zone out all the time. And Mom's all like 'Give him space, he's a senior,' but..."@@ She shrugs. @@.lily;"I don't know. You're still //you//, right, $name?"@@ You stay quiet, not sure how to respond. Because, yeah—you //have// been different. You know it. But you didn't think she was paying attention. <<if $d7tellLily is true or $d11tellLily is true>>\ Lily kicks her heel against the porch post again, then glances sideways at you. <<if $d7tellLily is true>>\ @@.lily;"I mean... you told me,"@@ she says, voice quieter now. @@.lily;"A week ago, remember? I asked you what was up, and you just told me about the curse."@@ <<elseif $d11tellLily is true>>\ @@.lily;"I mean... you told me,"@@ she says, voice quieter now. @@.lily;"A few days ago, remember? You kept coming home late, so I asked, and you just blurted it all out."@@ <</if>>\ <<if $acceptance > 14>>\ @@.lily;"I didn't really //get// it at first, to be honest,"@@ she admits. @@.lily;"But I've been paying attention. You're changing, and it's clear it's not just on the outside."@@ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>>\ @@.lily;"I didn't really //get// it at first, to be honest,"@@ she admits. @@.lily;"But I've been paying attention. You're changing on the outside, and it's really obvious."@@ <<else>>\ @@.lily;"I didn't really //get// it at first, to be honest,"@@ she admits. @@.lily;"But I've been paying attention. I'm surprised you haven't changed more, you're still the same $name I've always known."@@ <</if>>\ She pulls at the string on her hoodie sleeve. @@.lily;"I figured if you needed to talk about it again, you would. But just so you know... I haven't forgotten. And I don't think it's weird at all. I think it's kinda brave, actually."@@ You blink, not sure what you were expecting—but it wasn't //that//. Lily shrugs, trying to play it off. @@.lily;"Anyway, all I'm saying is that I'm here if you want me."@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"Thanks, Lily."@@ She bumps your shoulder with hers, and it's the kind of gesture that says more than she'll ever admit out loud. @@.lily;"Of course, loser."@@ The two of you sit in silence after that, just watching the neighborhood go still. Porch lights click on one by one. A few kids ride their bikes past, laughing. Somewhere, a sprinkler turns on. Lately, it really doesn't feel like you're figuring this out alone. <<else>>\ @@.lily;"I figured maybe you'd tell me when you were ready,"@@ she continues, pulling at a loose thread. @@.lily;"But, like... if something's going on, I can listen. I'm not a baby."@@ You look at her—really look. She's fourteen now, not the little kid who used to beg you to play video games or sneak snacks after bedtime. She's still stubborn, still fiery, still quick with sarcasm, still always one step ahead when you think she's not watching. But there's something steadier and more grown in her voice now. @@.lily;"I don't need to know //everything//,"@@ she adds, voice softer. @@.lily;"I just... wanna be there. You always looked out for me, y'know? I kinda wanna return the favor."@@ Your chest aches a little, in that way it does when someone says something you didn't know you needed. You nod slowly. @@.player;"Thanks, Lily."@@ She bumps your shoulder with hers. @@.lily;"Of course, loser."@@ The two of you sit in silence after that, just watching the neighborhood go still. Porch lights click on one by one. A few kids ride their bikes past, laughing. Somewhere, a sprinkler turns on. And even though you haven't said much—haven't explained anything—you feel a little lighter. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ When you round the corner and step into the front walk, you almost expect to see your sister, Lily, waiting for you on the porch. maybe with a snarky remark to say or a lollipop stick in her mouth. But the porch is empty. No Lily. You pause at the foot of the steps, adjusting your backpack as you take in the stillness of it all. She's probably inside. Probably in her room with her door shut and her music too loud. Or maybe she's at a friend's house. You wouldn't know. You haven't really talked in... a while. You head up the steps and sit on the porch. The wood creaks under your weight. The railing still has that little chip in it from when you were kids and dared each other to jump off it like superheroes. You stare at it now, and all you feel is distance. You and Lily used to be close. Not always, and certainly not perfectly, but //enough//. Enough to share dumb inside jokes and late-night snack runs and quiet little moments that didn't need explaining. But somewhere along the way you stopped reaching out. And she didn't exactly chase after you, either. Now, you're not sure if she'd even want to sit out here with you. You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. You've got enough on your plate already. But still, as you sit in the fading light, listening to the crickets and the distant hum of a passing car, you can't help but wonder: When did your little sister stop feeling like family, and start feeling like a stranger? <</if>>\ <<button "Another day comes to a close" "Day 15 - 20">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<if $d15pajamas is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "PajamaDay">>\ You sit on the edge of your bed, still groggy from sleep, staring at your reflection in the mirror. The loose, cream-colored long-sleeved and plaid pajama pants you slept in are... fine, right? It's not like you have anything else. And honestly, the thought of changing into something else seems pointless. You tug at the sleeve of your shirt, debating if you should at least swap it for a hoodie, but the idea of putting in any effort makes you sigh. This works, it's comfortable, and it follows the theme. Good enough. <<button "Go to school" "Day 15 - 3">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You sit on the edge of your bed, running a hand through your hair as you glance at your closet. Pajamas? Not happening. You're not sure if you don't feel like dressing up, don't want to deal with the extra attention, or just don't care about Homecoming Week, but the choice is easy—you're wearing regular clothes. It's not like wearing pajamas is a requirement, right? You sigh, shaking off the thought. Now the only question is: what //do// you wear? <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 15 - 3">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Wear your iconic cargo shorts" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $shoes to 69>>\ The rest of the night passes quietly. You take care of everything without thinking too hard—put your bag by your desk, change out of your clothes, shower, brush your teeth. You down a full glass of water, even though you're not really thirsty. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear your mom reminding you to hydrate. For once, you listen. Your room greets you as it always does. You head over to your bed and sit on the edge of the mattress, letting the quiet settle in your chest. It's been a long day. They're //all// long lately. <<if $plushie is true>>\ As you pull back the covers, your eyes land on $plushieName, the small panda plushie you bought just over a week ago on a whim. Its fur is still soft and clean, the tag only recently snipped off. You pick it up and hug it close as you lie down, surprised again by how comforting it is. <</if>>\ \ After a moment, you crawl under the covers, the sheets brushing over your skin like a reminder that the day is finally over. Exhaustion wins out soon after. You close your eyes. And sleep, when it comes, is quiet and dreamless. <<button "Sleep comes" "Day 16 - 1">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> <<set $shoes to 0>>\ <<if $d15pajamas is true>>\ The morning air is crisp as you step outside, the cool breeze making you instinctively pull your sleeves down over your hands. You hesitate for a second, still getting used to the fact that you're actually wearing pajamas to ''school''. It's not like you put any effort into it—you're still in the same clothes you slept in—but it feels weird to be walking outside like this. Luke is already waiting for you near the curb, rocking back and forth on his heels. His usual messy hair looks even worse than usual, sticking up at odd angles like he made zero effort to fix it. He's wearing a simple gray onesie, the kind with a hood and a zipper down the front. Paired with a pair of thick, soft slippers, he looks like the definition of cozy. The second he sees you, his face lights up. @@.luke;"Oh my God, you actually dressed up!"@@ He grins like he just won a bet. @@.luke;"I //knew// I'd get through to you!"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You weren't the one who convinced me."@@ Luke gasps, putting a hand to his chest. @@.luke;"Are you, $name Yoon, saying you //chose// to do this on your own?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It's just pajamas."@@ He huffs. @@.luke;"It's not //just// pajamas, $name. It's a lifestyle."@@ He gestures at himself. @@.luke;"For example, look at me. Do I look stressed? No. Do I look like I'm about to have the most comfortable school day of my life? Absolutely."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"You look like you're five seconds away from falling asleep in class."@@ @@.luke;"Maybe, but that's a feature, not a bug,"@@ he states, clapping a hand on your shoulder as you start walking. @@.luke;"See, this is good. You're learning. Participating. You'll thank me when you realize how amazing it is to exist in maximum comfort while suffering through math."@@ By the time you arrive at school, you realize that Luke had a point. The whole place looks different—resembling more of a giant sleepover than a school. Everyone is in some kind of sleepwear, from soft flannel pants to oversized shirts, and a few people have gone all out with matching pajama sets or ridiculous onesies. Even some of the teachers are in on it, which is honestly the strangest part. Seeing your former history teacher in cat print pajamas? Definitely not something you were prepared for. Luke nudges you, a knowing smirk on his face. @@.luke;"Come on, you've //got// to admit it. You're glad you dressed up."@@ You exhale, shaking your head. @@.player;"I mean... it //is// comfortable."@@ Luke gasps. @@.luke;"I can't believe you're having character development."@@ You roll your eyes, but you can't help the small smile tugging at your lips. Maybe this day won't be so bad after all. <<else>>\ When you step outside, the cool morning air hits your skin. Luke is already waiting for you at the edge of your driveway, shifting from foot to foot like he's got too much energy for this early in the morning. His usual messy hair looks even worse than usual, like he really did just roll out of bed without bothering to fix it. The first thing you notice is his onesie. It's not anything outrageous—just a simple gray one with a hood and a subtle pattern on the fabric. Comfortable but not over-the-top. He's even wearing ridiculously soft slippers instead of sneakers. The second thing you notice is the way his face twists in exaggerated disappointment the moment he sees you. His eyes drag over your very normal clothes and he groans, tilting his head back like the very sight is physically painful. @@.luke;"$name. No."@@ You sigh. @@.player;"Good morning to you, too."@@ Luke waves a hand at you. @@.luke;"You didn't dress up."@@ @@.player;"I know."@@ @@.luke;"Why?"@@ His voice isn't angry, just baffled, like you've personally wronged him. @@.luke;"It's Pajama Day. The easiest theme day in existence. You do own pajamas, right? Right?"@@ You roll your eyes, adjusting the strap of your backpack over your shoulder. @@.player;"Obviously."@@ Luke crosses his arms, exhaling through his nose. @@.luke;"Then why. Are you. In normal clothes."@@ @@.player;"Because I didn't feel like wearing pajamas to school?"@@ You realize you don't even sound convincing to yourself. He presses a hand over his heart like you told him you don't believe in happiness. @@.luke;"Dude. You //chose// to wear real clothes when you could've stayed in the comfiest outfit possible? That's insane."@@ He shakes his head. @@.luke;"Not to mention tragic. Truly tragic."@@ You snort, starting to walk. @@.player;"I think I'll survive, Luke."@@ Luke groans again but doesn't push it further. He opts to tug his hood up over his head and shove his hands into his onesie's pockets. @@.luke;"Just so you know, when people look at you weird all day, I reserve the right to say 'I told you so.' Repeatedly."@@ @@.player;"Duly noted,"@@ you say dryly. By the time you get to school, it's clear Luke wasn't exaggerating. The second you step onto campus, you're hit with the sight of a sea of students in various states of comfort—flannel pants, oversized shirts, matching pajama sets, and a few fluffy robes. Even some of the teachers are participating. There's something about seeing your former history teacher in cat print pajamas that makes the whole thing feel surreal. Luke gives you a look but doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. The //told you so// is written all over his face. You exhale through your nose, bracing yourself. It's going to be a long day. <</if>>\ <<button "Onward to homeroom!" "Day 15 - 4">><</button>>

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ The moment you step into homeroom, the usual morning sluggishness lingers in the air—people still half-asleep, pajama-clad students yawning into their sleeves, the hum of lazy conversation filling the room. But there's one person who doesn't look tired at all. Jessica. She's already at her desk, practically glowing, her usual confidence amplified by something lighter, something brighter. The moment she spots you, her whole face lights up. @@.jessica;"$name!"@@ she says, beaming. @@.jessica;"There's my star performer."@@ You snort, sliding into your seat. @@.player;"Alright, star performer is a bit of a stretch."@@ @@.jessica;"Um, excuse you?"@@ She tilts her head dramatically. @@.jessica;"We killed it! The formations were sharp, the energy was insane, and tell me why I keep hearing people say we looked //better// than Riverview's squad?"@@ She leans in, a wide grin on her face. @@.jessica;"Because we //did//."@@ She's not exaggerating. The routine was electric—each movement landing exactly where it needed to, every stunt going off without a hitch. For the first time, it felt like everything clicked. Jessica sighs happily, leaning back in her chair. @@.jessica;"I was really nervous, you know that? But then we got out there, and I felt it—like, //this is it//. //We're actually doing it//."@@ She turns to you, softer now. @@.jessica;"And I'm so, so glad you were part of it."@@ You blink, caught off guard by how genuine she sounds. @@.player;"I mean... I just did my part."@@ Jessica shakes her head. @@.jessica;"You did a lot more than that."@@ She nudges your arm playfully. @@.jessica;"I knew you'd be good, but I didn't think you'd be //that// good."@@ <<if $d15pajamas is false>>\ Jessica suddenly pauses, the smile fading from her face as she eyes you carefully. @@.jessica;"Tell me why you're not wearing pajamas again?"@@ As you scramble for an excuse, you can't help but laugh. The morning feels just a little lighter with Jessica by your side. <<else>>\ You roll your eyes, but you can't help the small smile forming on your face. The morning feels just a little lighter. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d11practiceAttend is true>>\ When you walk into homeroom, the usual morning chatter surrounds you—soft murmurs, the occasional yawn, and the tapping of fingers against phone screens. Pajama Day makes the whole room feel sluggish, like everyone is still halfway between sleep and reality. Jessica is already in her seat next to you, staring at her phone. But unlike usual, she's not furiously typing out messages or scrolling with purpose. Her thumb just hovers, absently swiping up and down, her expression neutral. You slide into your seat, watching her for a second before speaking. @@.player;"You alright?"@@ Jessica stops fidgeting and locks her phone, placing it face-down on the desk. She tilts her head toward you, offering a tired smile. @@.jessica;"Yeah. Just thinking."@@ You know what about. The game. The routine. The squad. @@.player;"You guys did alright,"@@ you say. The routine wasn't flawless, but it was held together. No major disasters, no outright failures. Just a few stumbles and a few moments where the energy didn't quite hit the way it was supposed to. Jessica exhales, nodding. @@.jessica;"Yeah. We did alright."@@ She taps her nails lightly against the desk. @@.jessica;"I just—I wanted us to be better than that."@@ She doesn't sound frustrated. She doesn't even sound mad at herself. Just... disappointed. You hesitate, unsure what to say. @@.player;"You worked hard for it."@@ Jessica lets out a small, breathy laugh, like she's acknowledging the truth in that. @@.jessica;"I did. We all did. And I //know// I should be proud of that. I //am// proud of that. But I also just—"@@ She exhales, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"I wanted to prove to everyone that we could be ''great''."@@ You don't say anything right away. The way she's speaking, the way she's looking down at her hands, it's clear she's not fishing for reassurance. She's just being honest. She shifts slightly, offering another small smile—this one a little more real. @@.jessica;"I'm still glad we had the extra help, though."@@ It takes you a second to realize she's talking about you. You didn't do much—you just helped run formations and offered a few suggestions on the sidelines. But she says it like it mattered. Like //you// mattered. Before you can find a response, Jessica straightens up and stretches her arms with a quiet sigh. @@.jessica;"Anyway,"@@ she says, picking up her phone again, @@.jessica;"next game, we'll do better."@@ She says it not with frustration, but with certainty. Not a demand—just a promise to herself. And somehow, you believe her. <<elseif $d11practiceAttend is false>>\ You step into homeroom, the usual morning hum of conversation filling the air. Everyone is draped in pajamas and slouched over their desks, half awake and waiting for the day to begin. It almost feels like a normal Monday—almost. But then you see Jessica. Jessica is in her usual seat near you, but something's wrong. Normally, she sits like she owns the room—back straight, shoulders squared, effortlessly commanding attention without even trying. Today, though, she looks small. She's hunched over her desk, one elbow propped up as she lazily scrolls through her phone, her expression neutral. Her usual high ponytail is looser than normal, and she barely reacts as people shuffle past her. She's even wearing a hoodie, which is a rare sight, considering Jessica never wears hoodies to school. You sit down, but she doesn't acknowledge you. Not with a glance, not with a friendly remark, not even with her signature smile. You hesitate before finally speaking. @@.player;"Rough weekend?"@@ Jessica stops scrolling and turns off her phone, setting it on her desk with an almost hollow motion. When she finally turns to you, her eyes look tired—not the //I didn't sleep enough// kind of tired, but the kind that sits deeper. @@.jessica;"We were a disaster,"@@ she says, voice quiet. @@.jessica;"Like, actually pathetic."@@ You don't answer right away, but you don't really //need// to—she's not looking for a response. She stares at her desk, fingers still idly twisting the hoodie string. @@.jessica;"I really thought we'd pull it together,"@@ she murmurs. @@.jessica;"I kept telling myself that. //We've got this. We just need to pull through//."@@ She shakes her head slightly, almost like she's disgusted with herself. @@.jessica;"But we didn't. We fell apart. And I couldn't do anything."@@ You remember the game. The uneven formations, the mistimed stunts, the way Riverview's cheer squad outshined them without even trying. Even in the stands, you could see the frustration on Jessica's face that night, the way she kept calling out corrections that no one could follow. She exhales through her nose. @@.jessica;"I should've drilled the routines harder. I should've changed the setlist. I should've—"@@ She stops, pressing her lips together. @@.jessica;"I don't know. I should've done something."@@ You look at her, at the way she's curling in on herself, her usual bravado completely gone. You realize she's not mad. She's not annoyed. She's genuinely doubting herself. The worst part of it all? She's not blaming anyone else. Not even you for not helping when you had the chance. She can only blame herself. @@.jessica;"Whatever,"@@ she mutters. @@.jessica;"Doesn't matter now."@@ But the way her voice wavers slightly at the end makes you think it still does. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 15 - 5">><</button>>

The door swings open, and just like that, the quiet morning chatter in the classroom dims. Ms. Carter steps inside, a travel mug of coffee in one hand and a stack of notebooks in the other. She sets her things down at the desk, then scans the room, her gaze landing on a few students still half-asleep in their seats. @@.girl;"Good morning,"@@ she says, her voice even. @@.girl;"I hope you all had a good weekend."@@ There's a scatter of lazy responses—half-hearted murmurs, a few nods. The class is still sluggish, heads resting on desks and movements slow. Ms. Carter exhales, not frustrated, but definitely not amused either. @@.girl;"I know it's Monday, and I know wearing pajamas makes it feel like you're still at home, but I expect you to be awake and paying attention. Please sit up if you're slouching."@@ There's some reluctant shuffling as a few people adjust their posture. Satisfied, she continues. @@.girl;"Now, before we get into anything else, we're going to revisit something from the first week of school."@@ She picks up the stack of notebooks, holding them up for emphasis. @@.girl;"On Thursday that week, I gave each of you a personal reflection journal."@@ A few people shift in their seats, probably just now remembering that existed. Your stomach tightens slightly. @@.girl;"I told you when we started that this wasn't just busywork,"@@ Ms. Carter continues. @@.girl;"Self-reflection is important, whether you realize it yet or not. So today, you're going to look back at what you wrote and write some more."@@ She begins walking through the rows, placing the notebooks on desks. @@.girl;"For now, I just want you to read your responses. Not adjust it, not edit it—just read it."@@ She sets yours in front of you. Your name is written on the cover, the edges of the notebook slightly bent from being shuffled around over the past week and a half. You stare at it, fingers resting against the cover. @@.girl;"You have a few minutes to check it out,"@@ Ms. Carter says, returning to the front of the room. @@.girl;"Make good use of them."@@ You hesitate. You remember that first question. //Who are you right now?// It felt simple at the time. But now, with everything that's happened since... You take a breath and flip the cover open. <<button "Who are you now?" "Day 15 - 6">><</button>>

<<if $journalw1q1 is 0>>\ Your eyes scan the words you wrote eleven days ago, your own handwriting staring back at you. //Right now, I'm honestly not sure who I am. I feel like I'm in between something. Everyone probably sees me as the same old guy they've always seen, but I don't feel the same inside. Something weird is happening to me, physically and emotionally, and I'm losing control of who I used to be. I'm trying to act like nothing's wrong, but every day, I feel like I'm changing.// <<if $transgender > 14>>\ <<set $d15reflection to 1>>\ Your chest tightens. You remember writing this. You remember how lost you felt, how desperate you were to hold onto something solid, something familiar. You were trying so hard to convince yourself that this was just something happening to you—not something that meant anything. But now, looking at it again, you realize something. You don't feel lost anymore. Your hands loosen their grip on the pages as you sit back slightly. It's strange, because back then, you thought you were falling apart. That every change was pulling you further and further from who you were supposed to be. But now... you're not sure that's true. <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ You //have// changed. A lot. Your face is softer and when you catch your reflection, you don't always recognize yourself at first. And yet, somehow, that doesn't scare you the way it used to. You run a hand over your sleeve absentmindedly, thinking back to the last few days—how your reflection has started feeling... comfortable. How being seen differently doesn't make you feel like you're losing something, but like you're //finding// something. <<else>>\ You //have// changed. Maybe not in the ways that are obvious to everyone else, but in ways that feel impossible to ignore. The way you think about yourself, the way you react to things—it's different. A few weeks ago, the idea of changing terrified you. You clung to the version of yourself you'd always known, convinced that if you just held on tight enough, this $referto wouldn't get to you. But now? Now, when you stop forcing yourself to push those thoughts away, there's a quiet kind of relief in just... letting them exist. When you stop trying so hard to be what you think you should be, you don't feel like you're losing anything at all. You almost feel like you're finding something. <</if>>\ You don't feel like you're in between anymore. You swallow, staring at the journal. You know who you are. Or maybe you //always// knew, and it just took this $referto to make you stop ignoring it. And that's terrifying. But it also makes you feel like, for the first time in your life— You might actually be real. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>>\ <<set $d15reflection to 2>>\ Your grip tightens slightly on the edges of the journal. You remember writing this—sitting at this very desk, staring at the blank page, feeling like if you didn't get something down, you'd drown in all of it. Back then, everything was still new, still unsettling. The first changes had barely set in, and you'd felt like a stranger in your own body. Now, eleven days later, you //have// changed. A lot, actually. Your hands hover over the pages before curling into loose fists. You don't need a mirror to know what you look like. You've //felt// it in every passing glance, in the way people's eyes linger on you just a second too long, trying to figure out what's different. And you hate that you understand why. You still //feel// like yourself, but every time you catch your reflection, you're reminded that you don't quite look it anymore. You press your fingers against your temple and let out a slow breath. But you //are// still you. That hasn't changed. Yeah, your face is different. Yeah, people look at you weird sometimes, and yeah, maybe it messes with your head more than you want to admit. But that doesn't mean you're not still the same person you were before the curse. You're still a guy. That was ''never'' the problem. The problem is the $referto. The way it's twisting things, making you feel like you're slipping out of your own skin. You stare down at the page, at the words //"I'm losing control of who I used to be."// Maybe you weren't wrong when you wrote that. Maybe you //have// lost control of some things. But you haven't lost yourself. As soon as you fix this—get back to the way you're supposed to be—this confusion, this disconnect, this wrongness will finally be gone. It has to be. <<else>>\ <<set $d15reflection to 3>>\ You let out a slow breath, leaning back in your chair. You remember writing this. You remember how it felt—like the ground was shifting beneath you, like you were trapped in something you didn't understand. The changes, the uncertainty, the way everything felt wrong and out of control. At the time, it was overwhelming. But now? Now, it just feels like something you wrote in the middle of panicking. Because you //do// know who you are. You're still //you//. You're still a guy. Nothing about that has changed. The $referto may have messed with you for a bit, made you second-guess things, but that doesn't mean you were actually confused about yourself. It just means you were dealing with something impossible, something unnatural, and it got to you for a while. Your fingers tighten slightly on the journal's edges. You're not //in between// anything. You never were. You were just freaking out. You're still a guy. You're still ''you''. And once this $referto is gone, everything will go back to normal. You exhale and shake off whatever weird tension has started creeping in. That was then. This is now. You know exactly who you are. <</if>>\ <<elseif $journalw1q1 is 1>>\ You stare at the words on the page, your own handwriting frozen in time from eleven days ago. //"I'm still the same person I've always been. Just $name. I like hanging out with Luke and Samantha, not taking things too seriously, and just being an average guy. Nothing's changed at all except this problem I've been having. I hope I can resolve this stupid problem, move on from it, and not have to deal with it anymore."// <<if $transgender > 14>>\ <<set $d15reflection to 1>>\ You read it again. Then a third time. The words sit heavy in your chest, like a weight pressing down, but you don't know why. Nothing's changed. That's what you wrote. That's what you believed. And yet... Your thumb rubs over the corner of the page, the edges slightly bent from where Ms. Carter must've flipped through it. The handwriting is yours. The thoughts //were// yours. But looking at it now, something about them feels... off. Like an old shirt that doesn't quite fit anymore. You wanted that to be true. You wanted this to just be a temporary problem. Something to fix. Something to get rid of. But over the past eleven days, things have shifted—small, subtle things that you didn't want to think too hard about. Like how, at first, the changes to your face made you panic—but now, when you catch your reflection, there's this strange, quiet moment where you just //look//. Or how you used to brace yourself every time someone used "he" for you—because it reminded you that no matter how much your body was changing, the world still saw you the same way. And you don't know why that feeling hasn't faded by now. You press your palm against your forehead, breathing out slowly. This //wasn't// supposed to happen. If nothing's changed—if you're really still the same person you've always been— ...Then why doesn't it feel that way? <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>>\ <<set $d15reflection to 2>>\ Your fingers tightens lightly slightly around the edges of your notebook. It should still feel true. It //is// still true. You're still you. You still joke around with Luke, roll your eyes at Samantha, and waste time playing games or scrolling on your phone like none of this is happening. You still just want things to go back to normal. But as you sit there, reading the words over again, you can't ignore the way your stomach twists. Because things //have// changed. Your hands reflexively tighten into fists before you force them to relax. You don't need to look at yourself to feel the subtle differences. Your face especially isn't something you can ignore. You see it every time you pass a mirror, every time you open your camera by accident, and every time someone looks at you for a second too long. Sometimes you catch your reflection in a window and don't recognize yourself for a split second. And that moment—that moment—where your brain hesitates to remember it's you—it's the worst feeling in the world. You glance back down at the words again. //"I'm still the same person I've always been."// Your grip on the journal tightens. You //are// still the same person. Once the $referto is fixed, everything will go back to normal. But you don't //feel// the same. <<else>>\ <<set $d15reflection to 3>>\ You lean back in your seat, exhaling slowly. Yeah. That still feels right. You don't know why you expected to feel any different reading it back. Maybe because so much has happened since then, with the $referto, with magic, with everything. But at the core of it, nothing about you has really changed. You're still just... you. A normal guy dealing with something really abnormal. The past week and a half have been frustrating, sure. Worrying. Annoying. But none of it has actually //changed// you much. You still hang out with Luke, still roll your eyes at Samantha's sarcasm, still waste time on your phone when you should be doing something productive. You still think about college, the future, and where you'll be after all of this. The $referto has been a constant weight in the back of your mind, but that's all it is—a problem. A very weird, very //real// problem. One you need to fix. You drum your fingers idly against the desk, staring at your journal. It //is// weird looking back, now that you think about it. Eleven days ago, you thought you'd have this solved by now. That you'd find a way to break the $referto, move on, and put all of this behind you. But you're still here, still stuck in the middle of it. And the worst part is, you're no closer to an answer than when you started. But that doesn't change anything. You're still you. This is something you have to deal with. And when it's over, you'll move on, just like you said you would. <</if>>\ <<elseif $journalw1q1 is 2>>\ Your eyes move over the words carefully. //"Right now, I'm...evolving, to say the least. It's weird, but I feel I'm not exactly the same person I was even a few days ago. There's this strange pull as if I'm growing into something different. I don't know what that is yet, but part of me is curious and eager to find out. Maybe people still see me as $name, but I'm not sure that's the full picture anymore."// <<if $transgender > 14>>\ <<set $d15reflection to 1>>\ You exhale, staring down at the page. You were right. Even back then, when everything felt uncertain, when you didn't have the words for what you were feeling—you //knew//. You didn't know how things would change, or what it would feel like, or how much of yourself you'd have to break down and rebuild, but the feeling you wrote about—the pull, the curiosity, the sense that something was shifting inside you—that was real. And now, eleven days later, you're finally starting to understand it. You have changed. And it's not just because of the $referto. It's something deeper than that. It's the way you've stopped forcing yourself to fight every shift, the way you've started listening to that part of you that maybe wanted to change all along. You used to be afraid of that feeling. But now? Now, it feels like you're learning something important. Something you perhaps should've known all along. You run a hand over the page, tracing your own handwriting. You don't know who you were when you wrote this. But maybe, just maybe, you're starting to figure it out. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>>\ <<set $d15reflection to 2>>\ Your fingers tighten slightly on the edges of the journal. You remember writing this, but reading it now makes your stomach twist. //Eager to find out?// What the hell were you thinking? Back then, the changes had barely started. You had no idea how far this would go, how much of yourself you'd end up losing. Now, you don't need to wonder what you were "growing into." You're living it. Every time you catch your reflection, every time you feel someone's lingering stare, every time your own body moves in a way that feels just a little too different, you're reminded of what exactly the $referto has done to you. You don't look the same anymore. That's just a fact. You can feel the hesitation when people talk to you, the way their eyes flicker over your face before they act like nothing's different. You know they notice. And even if they don't say it, you can feel it in the air around you. You inhale slowly, forcing yourself to breathe. You were wrong when you wrote this. The "pull" you felt wasn't something natural. It wasn't something you were supposed to lean into. It was just the $referto sinking its damn claws into you, trying to twist you into something you weren't. And you let yourself entertain the idea—like there was something worth finding at the other end of it. You grip the journal a little harder. You //are// still $name. You're still a guy. That hasn't changed, no matter what this $referto has done to you. No matter how people look at you now. Once you fix this—once you undo all of it—everything will go back to the way it's supposed to be. It has to. <<else>>\ <<set $d15reflection to 3>>\ You frown slightly. //Eager to find out?// What were you even talking about? You remember writing this. You remember feeling... unsettled, like something was shifting inside you, like you were standing on unstable ground. But looking at it now, it just seems dramatic. Overblown. You're still $name. You're still the same guy you've always been. Yeah, the past couple of weeks have been weird—stressful, annoying, a constant headache—but that doesn't mean you've become someone else. The "pull" you wrote about? That was just fear. Fear of the changes, fear of losing control, fear of things getting worse. But you've dealt with it. You've adjusted. You //know// who you are, and you don't feel confused anymore. You let out a quiet breath, drumming your fingers against the desk. Maybe you were just in a weird headspace that day. Letting the $referto mess with your head. It's not like you actually //believed// you were turning into someone else. You shake your head. Whatever you were feeling back then, it doesn't matter now. You know where you stand. You're //fine//. And once this $referto is gone, everything will be normal again. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Move on" "Day 15 - 7">><</button>>

You shut your journal softly, fingers lingering on the cover. The words you wrote eleven days ago still sit heavy in your mind, but there's no more time to dwell on them. The past is written, but the present keeps moving. Ms. Carter claps her hands together lightly, drawing the room's attention. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, leaning against her desk. @@.girl;"Now that you've had a moment to look at your first entry, we're going to move forward."@@ She picks up a piece of chalk and writes something on the board. When she steps aside, you see the next reflection prompt, written in neat letters: "Who in your life do you feel most comfortable around, and why?" You shift slightly in your seat. Ms. Carter continues, @@.girl;"This doesn't have to be your best friend, or even someone you talk to on a daily basis. Just think about who makes you feel like you can be yourself. Who you don't have to pretend around. And most importantly, why that is."@@ She pauses, scanning the room. @@.girl;"Take your time and be honest with yourself."@@ You glance back down at your journal, turning to a fresh page. The question shouldn't be that hard to answer, but as you tap the end of your pen against the page, you realize there's more than one way to approach it. Your thoughts drift to the people in your life, the ones who make things easier. The ones who mean something to you. ''Luke'' Your first thought is ''Luke''. He's been there forever, since childhood, since before any of this was complicated. With Luke, things are easy. He doesn't make you think too hard, doesn't expect you to be anything other than who you are. There's never any pressure—just dumb jokes, bad ideas, and a kind of friendship that feels like it could last forever. And yet, sometimes, there's this moment—this flicker of something different, something just beneath the surface. A warmth that lingers when he slings an arm around your shoulder, a look that lasts a second too long before he laughs it off. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's everything. ''Samantha'' Then there's ''Samantha''. She's the one who calls you out on your nonsense, who refuses to let you get away with half-baked excuses. But she's also the one who stays. Who listens when it matters, even when she pretends she's not. She's sharp, sarcastic, a little bit reckless—but there's this honesty to her that makes you feel safe. With Samantha, you never have to worry about saying the right thing, because she's not afraid to say the wrong thing first. ''Jessica'' Your pen hovers over the page as ''Jessica'' crosses your mind. She's not someone you ever expected to get to know. She's Jessica Sanders—the queen bee, the girl who owns every room she walks into. But under all that polish and confidence, there's a realness to her you've only started to see. A vulnerability she doesn't show to just anyone. And somehow, against all odds, she's let you into her world. With Jessica, being yourself doesn't mean staying the same. It means pushing forward, striving for something more. She expects a lot, but maybe that's because she believes in you. And maybe... that feels kind of good. ''Vincent'' Then there's ''Vincent''. He's different from the others—not loud, not overbearing, not dramatic, not someone who forces himself into your life. He's quiet but present. The kind of person who sees things others miss. With Vincent, there's no pressure to perform. You can just sit beside him, flipping through books or getting lost in some random discussion about history or philosophy, and it's enough. You don't need to fill the silence, because he doesn't expect you to. And that? That's rare. ''Aurora'' You hesitate before thinking of ''Aurora''. She's still a mystery, still someone you don't quite understand. But that's part of what draws you in—the way she moves through the world like she knows something you don't. Like she sees //you// in a way no one else does. She doesn't ask you to explain yourself. She doesn't need to. With Aurora, there's this sense that she already knows who you are—even if you don't. ''Jordan'' And then there's ''Jordan''. You never thought you'd even talk to him. He's cold, distant, always keeping people at arm's length. But when you see past that—when you catch the small moments where he lets his guard slip—it's something else entirely. He's not someone who hands over his trust easily. But if he starts to trust someone, it means something. Because Jordan doesn't waste time on things he doesn't care about. Your pen hovers over the page. Who in your life do you feel most comfortable around, and why? <<button "Luke — Because he makes things feel easy" "Day 15 - 8">>\<<set $d15journalq to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D15_journal_q" "luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Samantha — Because she keeps you grounded" "Day 15 - 8">>\<<set $d15journalq to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D15_journal_q" "samantha" "story">><</button>> <<button "Jessica — Because she pushes you to be more" "Day 15 - 8">>\<<set $d15journalq to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D15_journal_q" "jessica" "story">><</button>> <<button "Vincent — Because he lets you be you" "Day 15 - 8">>\<<set $d15journalq to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D15_journal_q" "vincent" "story">><</button>> <<button "Aurora — Because she sees you in ways others don't" "Day 15 - 8">>\<<set $d15journalq to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D15_journal_q" "aurora" "story">><</button>> <<button "Jordan — Because there's more to him than what people see" "Day 15 - 8">>\<<set $d15journalq to 5>>\<<trackChoice "D15_journal_q" "jordan" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'm not really interested in anyone" "Day 15 - 8">>\<<set $d15journalq to 6>>\<<trackChoice "D15_journal_q" "noone" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d15journalq is 0>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Your pen hovers over the page for a moment before you press it down, the answer coming more easily than you expected. ''Luke.'' It's almost obvious when you think about it. Luke has been there since the beginning—before the curse, before things got weird, before you ever had to start questioning anything. With him, things don't feel complicated. There's no pressure or expectations. Luke just makes everything //easy//. You think about all the times he's been at your side, always effortlessly slipping into your space like he belongs there. The way he laughs like the world isn't so serious, like things will always work out. The way he just accepts you—without hesitation, without overthinking, without making anything weird. Even when he does notice something's off, he doesn't push. He just sticks around, acting like nothing's changed unless you want it to. Maybe that's why you feel so comfortable with him. Because with Luke, you don't have to explain yourself. You don't have to worry about how you look, or what you say, or whether you're changing in ways you don't understand yet. You don't have to question whether he'll be there tomorrow, or next week, or next year—because of course he will. That's just how Luke is. A constant friendship. You take a breath, finishing the sentence. ''Luke, because he makes everything feel easy.'' <<elseif $d15journalq is 1>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Your pen taps against the page as you think, but deep down, the answer is already there. ''Samantha.'' It's funny—she'd probably roll her eyes if she knew you were writing this. Make some sarcastic remark about how she's //obviously// the best person in your life and how it took you way too long to admit it. But underneath all that sharp humor, that constant teasing, there's something real. Samantha has always been there—not in an obvious way, but in a way that matters. She doesn't sugarcoat things, doesn't tell you what you want to hear just to make you feel better. She calls you out when she you're being stupid, challenges you when you need it, and pushes you to actually think instead of drifting aimlessly through life. And yet, for all her sarcasm and blunt honesty, she's never turned her back on you. Not. Even. Once. You think about all the late-night talks, the times she's sat next to you in comfortable silence, the way she notices when something's wrong. How she lets you sit with your thoughts for as long as you need before finally cutting through them with a dry, @@.samantha;"Are you done brooding yet, or do I have to stage an intervention?"@@ She makes you feel real, and that's why you feel so comfortable with her. Because no matter how much things change, no matter how different you start to feel, she won't look at you any differently. She'll still be Samantha. And she'll still see you. You take a breath and write the words down. ''Samantha, because she keeps me grounded.'' <<elseif $d15journalq is 2>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Your pen hovers over the page, hesitating for only a moment before you press it down. ''Jessica.'' If someone had told you two weeks ago that she'd be the person you felt most comfortable with, you would've laughed. Jessica Sanders—queen bee, head cheerleader, the kind of person who seems untouchable, who always has her life together. The girl who expects excellence in everything she does. The girl who never settles for just okay. And yet, here you are. Because there's a lot more to Jessica than the perfect image she shows the world. She's confident, but not invincible. Strong, but not unshakable. Beneath all the polish and effortless control, there's a realness to her—a pressure she carries that most people never bother to notice. She's always leading, always holding things together, always making sure everything runs smoothly, because if she doesn't, who else will? Jessica doesn't just make you feel //comfortable//. She makes you feel //capable//. Like you can be more than what you are, like you're //meant// to be more. She expects a lot, sure but that's because she believes in you—because she won't let you settle for anything less than your very best. Maybe that's why you feel so drawn to her. Because when she looks at you, she doesn't see who you are. She sees who you could be. And that makes you want to see it too. You take a breath and write it down. ''Jessica, because she pushes me to be more.'' <<elseif $d15journalq is 3>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $vincentRomance to Math.clamp($vincentRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Your pen moves before you can second-guess yourself. ''Vincent.'' There's something about him that makes things feel easier—not in the way Luke does, where everything is light and effortless, but in a way that feels... quiet. Safe. Like you don't have to try so hard. Vincent isn't the kind of person who demands attention. He doesn't take up space the way others do. If anything, he seems almost afraid to, always second-guessing himself, always shrinking back just enough that you can tell he's worried about saying the wrong thing, about being too much. And yet, when you're around him, none of that feels like a burden. Because Vincent just //listens//. Not to fill the silence, not just to be polite—but because he genuinely //cares//. When he talks, it's never just small talk—it's something deeper, something thoughtful, something that reminds you that the world is bigger than this moment. His mind is full of history, of old stories, of people long gone but still remembered—and somehow, he makes you feel like you belong among all of it. With Vincent, there's no pressure to say the right thing or any expectation to be more than what you already are. He doesn't make you feel like you have to prove yourself, like you have to be interesting or impressive just to be worth talking to. You just exist. You're //you//. And that's enough. And maybe that's why he feels so different from everyone else—because even though he's afraid of being seen, of being judged, he never makes you feel that way. You take a deep breath and write it down. ''Vincent, because he lets me be me.'' <<elseif $d15journalq is 4>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $auroraRomance to Math.clamp($auroraRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Your pen hovers over the page for a moment before pressing down. ''Aurora.'' It's strange, because even now, you don't feel like you even know her. Not really. Aurora is just different. She never asks for explanations. Never demands answers. She simply //looks// at you, and somehow, that's enough. Like she already knows—as if she sees something you haven't even figured out for yourself yet. And that should be unsettling. Hell, at first, it //was//. But over time, you realized something: with Aurora, you don't have to pretend. You don't have to explain why things feel off, or why certain thoughts linger longer than they should. You don't have to justify the questions you don't even have the words for yet. Because she already understands. She carries her own mysteries, her own secrets, and yet she never seems lost. She moves through the world with a sense of certainty, like she's always known exactly who she is. And somehow, when you're around her, you feel like she's offering you that same kind of certainty—like maybe, if you listen closely enough, if you let yourself see what she does, you might understand yourself too. Aurora makes you feel seen and right now, that's what you need the most. ''Aurora, because she sees what others don't.'' <<elseif $d15journalq is 5>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Your pen hesitates for a moment before pressing to the page. ''Jordan.'' It's almost strange, picking him. He's not someone you ever expected to be comfortable around. At first glance, Jordan is cold, distant—the kind of person who keeps his walls up so high that most people don't even bother trying to get past them. And if you hadn't spent time around him, you might have thought there was nothing beyond that sharp exterior. But that's not true. Jordan isn't distant because he doesn't care. He's distant because he //does//. Because caring means opening up, and opening up means getting hurt. So instead, he acts like nothing matters. Like nothing touches him. Like he doesn't need anyone. But you've seen moments where the cracks show. The way his eyes linger on things he pretends not to care about. The way he gets quiet when he thinks no one's paying attention. The way he fights so hard to keep himself together, as if the second he lets go, he'll fall apart. Jordan doesn't make things easy. He doesn't fill silence just to make it less awkward. But in a weird way, that's //why// it works. You don't have to force anything around him. You don't have to say the right things or pretend to be something you're not. Because Jordan doesn't waste time on people he doesn't care about. And the fact that he even lets you in, even a little, means more than words ever could. You take a breath, then write it down. ''Jordan, because there's more to him than what people see.'' <<elseif $d15journalq is 6>>\ Your pen hovers over the page for a long moment before you finally start writing. ''I'm not really interested in anyone.'' And that's the truth. It's not that you don't care about the people around you—you most certainly do. Some of them have been in your life for years, some of them are new but have started to matter in unexpected ways nonetheless. But when it comes to //that// kind of feeling, the kind that turns a friendship into something more... it just isn't there. Maybe you've been too distracted to think about it. Between school, the $referto, and the way everything keeps shifting around you, there hasn't been much time to consider what you //want// from other people. Or maybe you just don't feel that way about anyone right now. And that's fine. You exhale, tapping your pen against the paper. There's no rule saying you have to figure all of this out now. No deadline or expectation. You're still sorting through who you are, what this $referto means, what //any// of this means. And maybe, for now, that's enough. You glance down at the page and finish the thought. ''I'm not really interested in anyone, and I think I'm okay with that.'' <</if>>\ <<if $d15journalq is 6>>\ <<button "No love today" "Day 15 - 9">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Love blooms?" "Day 15 - 9">><</button>> <</if>>\

The scratch of pens against paper eventually fades as more of your peers close their journals, some with finality, others with hesitation. Ms. Carter waits a few moments before glancing up at the clock. There's still time left—too much to just sit in silence. She leans back against her desk. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"I'm not going to pretend an hour of self-reflection is realistic, so let's shift gears. You've got the rest of class to work on something productive—homework, studying, or anything else that keeps your brain engaged."@@ Her eyes flick to a few students already pulling out their phones. @@.girl;"And no, scrolling through social media does //not// count."@@ A few groans ripple through the room, but desks shuffle nevertheless as students dig through backpacks, pulling out half-finished assignments, notes, or whatever else they can pretend to work on. Jessica flips open a planner, tapping her pen against the pages as she starts organizing her week. Some people chat in low voices, careful not to draw Ms. Carter's attention. The atmosphere is lazy but not quite restless—just a room full of students waiting for the clock to run down. Minutes slip by in that slow way where time never moves quite as fast as you want it to. You manage to half-focus on something for what feels like ten minutes, only to check the clock and realize it's only been three. Eventually, Ms. Carter starts wrapping up her own work, taking one last sip from her coffee before checking the clock again. And then the bell rings. The room stirs as students stretch, shove books into bags, and prepare to move on to the next part of the day. Ms. Carter raises her voice just enough to be heard over the motion. @@.girl;"Don't forget—you'll get your next journal prompt soon. Keep an open mind about it."@@ With that, homeroom is over. Time to move on. <<button "Continue" "Day 15 - 10">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D15ReadingJordan">>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d15performance is 0>>\ <<set $timmersion to Math.clamp($timmersion + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You adjust your grip on the script, already feeling the nervous energy ripple through the auditorium. A few students are being dramatic, over-the-top, throwing themselves into the words like it's a soap opera. But that's not Juliet. At least—not how //you// see her. She's young, sure. In love, most definitely. But Juliet isn't chaotic—she's sharp, grounded, and smarter than anyone gives her credit for. She understands the danger of this situation. She's not panicking. She's measured. So that's what you'll bring to the table: stillness. A Juliet who listens before she leaps. Jordan stands across from you, solid and composed. His eyes flick to the page, then lift just briefly toward you. He's not nervous—not even a little. He's done the work. You can feel it in the way he stands, in the way he breathes. Then he begins. @@.jordan;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head..."@@ He speaks with a quiet intensity—each word deliberate, restrained but charged. He doesn't perform the lines—he inhabits them. It's less like he's reading Shakespeare and more like Romeo just exists inside of him. And then it's your turn. You don't move much. Don't raise your voice. You just... //speak//. @@.player;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"@@ It's thoughtful, almost curious—like Juliet's been turning the question over in her head for a while before finally giving it a voice. @@.player;"Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ You say it plainly, without any embellishment. Not coldly—but with certainty. Juliet isn't pleading. She's ''deciding''. Jordan glances up at you, not breaking character, but responding. His posture shifts ever so slightly, like even his Romeo knows this Juliet isn't to be underestimated. @@.jordan;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@ The line is quieter and more vulnerable than before. Like you've unsettled him. Just a little. You press on. @@.player;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague."@@ Each word is paced and firm, like Juliet is sorting through the logic of the world, turning it over in her mind. @@.player;"What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face..."@@ You look directly at Jordan now, calm but unshaken, as if Juliet is only laying out the facts. @@.player;"O, be some other name belonging to a man. What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet."@@ The line isn't flowery—it's clear, clean, a simple truth. You don't press for emotion. You let the meaning speak for itself. You say it like Juliet's heard it before, like she's quoting something older than herself, but still //choosing// to believe in it. @@.player;"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title."@@ You finally glance at Jordan again, eyebrows raised and lips twitching—like Juliet knows //exactly// how perfect he is and is //not// afraid to point it out. Then, almost offhanded—like it's a casual suggestion: @@.player;"Romeo, doff thy name, And, for thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself."@@ You don't rush it. You don't push it. You just say it. And it lands. The silence afterward feels earned. Jordan's eyes haven't left you. His expression doesn't change much, but there's something there—recognition. Mr. Bennet breathes in slowly, as if recovering from something. Then he breaks into applause so sudden and loud that half the class flinches. @@.boy;"Restraint! Grace! Clarity!"@@ he bellows, twirling in a full circle before stopping with a hand pressed to his chest. @@.boy;"Juliet as an anchor—steady amidst the whirlwind of love!"@@ He turns to Jordan, beaming. @@.boy;"And you, Romeo! Powerfully contained! Simmering beneath the surface! Like lightning behind glass!"@@ Jordan accepts the praise with a simple nod. Not smug—just composed, like he knew exactly what he brought to the scene and didn't need validation for it. As the class slowly returns to its scattered energy, Jordan approaches, eyes on you. @@.jordan;"You held it down,"@@ he says, voice low. @@.player;"You too,"@@ you reply, smiling faintly. He pauses before nodding once. @@.jordan;"That was solid."@@ And for someone like Jordan? That's the equivalent of shouting your praises from the rooftops. <<elseif $d15performance is 1>>\ <<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You flip open your script, scanning the lines again. You've read this scene a dozen times by now, but something clicks today—not with tragedy or longing, but something smarter. Juliet isn't helpless here. She's not just some naïve girl lamenting the stars. She's clever, sharp-tongued, and aware of how absurd it is to fall for a boy she's only just met. And yeah, sure, she's falling for him anyway—but she's going to have fun with it. Across from you, Jordan stands like he's carved from confidence, jaw tight, shoulders relaxed, script gripped loosely in one hand. There's no hesitation in his posture whatsoever—he knows exactly what he's doing. He's ''ready''. Then he starts. @@.jordan;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head..."@@ He doesn't just say the lines—he commands them. His Romeo is intense, full of reverence, his voice ringing with restrained passion. The words hit like a spell—carefully controlled, but brimming with heat. You raise an eyebrow as he speaks, tilting your head like Juliet's not sure if she should be flattered or rolling her eyes. Then it's your turn. @@.player;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"@@ You say it like you're poking fun at yourself—mock-dramatic, half-laughing, like Juliet's thinking to herself, //Wow, this is so ridiculous//, but she's into it anyway. @@.player;"Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ You emphasize //"sworn my love"// like it's a dare. Your tone is light, teasing, and almost flirtatious—but beneath it, there's something real. Something curious. Jordan glances up from his script, just barely. You catch the twitch of a smirk at the edge of his mouth. @@.jordan;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@ He's quiet and thoughtful, but with a thread of tension, like Romeo's not sure how long he can stay hidden. You pick up your pace, letting the words dance off your tongue. @@.player;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague."@@ You walk a slow circle, gesturing idly with your script like Juliet's giving a lecture on how names are stupid. @@.player;"What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face..."@@ You make a show of counting off each body part, playful and exaggerated, drawing a quiet laugh from somewhere in the room. @@.player;"O, be some other name belonging to a man."@@ Your voice dips here, just enough to hint at something underneath all the playfulness—desire, maybe. Wonder. @@.player;"What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet."@@ You say it like Juliet's heard it before, like she's quoting something older than herself, but still //choosing// to believe in it. @@.player;"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title."@@ You finally glance at Jordan again, eyebrows raised and lips twitching—like Juliet knows //exactly// how perfect he is and is //not// afraid to point it out. Then, almost offhanded—like it's a casual suggestion: @@.player;"Romeo, doff thy name, And, for thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself."@@ You hold the beat there, not with solemnity, but with invitation. And Jordan— He doesn't miss a step. His reaction isn't wide-eyed or flustered. It's focused, taut, like Romeo is trying to stay composed but the air between you has shifted. You can feel it too. The scene might be playful on your end, but the way he plays it off makes the whole thing crackle. When you finish, the room is quiet. Then, Mr. Bennet makes an excited sound you can't describe. @@.boy;"Wit! Charm! Subversion!"@@ he exclaims, spinning dramatically. @@.boy;"Juliet as a thinker, as a tease, as a girl who dares to enjoy herself! Yes!"@@ He points a finger toward Jordan without hesitation. @@.boy;"And you—focused. Precise. Electric! You gave $name space and let the tension rise!"@@ Jordan doesn't move much. He doesn't //need// to. He just gives the faintest nod, like of course he nailed it. Then, as the class starts to shift back into motion, he glances at you. @@.jordan;"You're dangerous,"@@ he says simply. @@.player;"Was that Juliet or me?"@@ you ask. He shrugs. @@.jordan;"Does it matter?"@@ And that? That might be the most flattering thing Jordan's ever said. <<elseif $d15performance is 2>>\ <<set $tdelivery to Math.clamp($tdelivery + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You turn the script over in your hands as you think. You could be intense, but something holds you back. Something about this scene, this moment, feels like it deserves a softer touch. Because Juliet isn't jaded. She hadn't learned to protect herself yet. She's standing on the edge of something brand new, dangerous, and dazzling all at once, and for a moment—just the tiniest speck of time—she lets herself believe that love might be enough to defy all odds. You exhale quietly. That's the Juliet you're going to play. Jordan shifts into place across from you. There's a quiet stillness in him—but not the guarded kind. He's focused. He's grounded. And then, he begins. @@.jordan;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a wingèd messenger of heaven..."@@ His voice is completely different from what you saw last week. Stronger and more poised, every word lands with practiced clarity, emotion tucked just beneath the surface—but you can feel it in his every pause and look. Jordan doesn't stumble or hesitate. He's in it. And somehow, that makes it easier for you to follow. You take a step forward and lift your chin, your voice soft but unwavering. @@.player;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"@@ It's not a complaint. Not at all. It's a question from someone who believes in love enough to ask for the impossible. You keep your tone warm, a little breathless, like Juliet herself can barely believe she's speaking these words aloud. @@.player;"Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ You don't look at Jordan directly—you stare off into some imagined night sky, like Juliet has no idea she's being overheard. Your voice carries a quiet longing, a kind of hopeful ache. Juliet, to you, is trying to wish this situation into something simpler. @@.jordan;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@ His tone is lower now, like he's caught off guard by what he's hearing. You keep going, letting the hope bloom in your chest with each line. @@.player;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague."@@ There's a wonder in your tone as you move slowly, as if afraid to scare the moment away, and every word feels like you're daring to dream. @@.player;"What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face..."@@ Your voice softens more with each line, hands gently gesturing like you're brushing aside the world's rules. @@.player;"O, be some other name belonging to a man. What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet."@@ You let the line linger. it feels true, even if Juliet's only just beginning to understand it. @@.player;"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title."@@ You steal a glance at Jordan—he's fully focused, watching you as if seeing Juliet for the first time. And when you speak the last few lines, your voice drops to barely more than a whisper. @@.player;"Romeo, doff thy name, And, for thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself."@@ You don't move, don't gesture, don't blink. You just //offer// it—like Juliet truly believes he might say yes. The moment hangs in the air. Mr. Bennet doesn't interrupt. The class doesn't whisper. Even the lights overhead seem to hum a little softer. Jordan slowly lowers his script, still watching you. Then Mr. Bennet finally claps—once, loud and sharp, and then again, more theatrical. @@.boy;"YES!"@@ he exclaims, gesturing dramatically. @@.boy;"That is the //magic// I've been waiting for."@@ He spins toward Jordan. @@.boy;"And you, my dear Romeo, are no longer holding back. You stepped into the role with conviction! With focus!"@@ Jordan doesn't flinch or react. He just gives a short nod, like he already knew that. Like anything less wouldn't have been acceptable. Mr. Bennet turns to you. @@.boy;"And you, Juliet.. Hopeful. Honest. Real. You gave the scene its heart."@@ A few students around the room murmur in surprise—you weren't the loudest or the flashiest, but something about it landed. Jordan shifts slightly as the class begins to move again. @@.jordan;"Solid read,"@@ he admits, low and even, eyes on his script. You raise an eyebrow, grinning. @@.player;"You know, you weren't half bad either."@@ He finally looks at you. @@.jordan;"I practiced."@@ It's not an admission—it's a statement of fact. Then, after a pause, he adds, @@.jordan;"Didn't expect that from you."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ @@.jordan;"The //way// you played Juliet,"@@ he says, shrugging. @@.jordan;"I thought you'd hold back."@@ You smile. @@.player;"Guess I surprised you."@@ Jordan doesn't respond right away, but his gaze lingers for a little longer than it needs to. And maybe that says more than anything he could've said out loud. <<elseif $d15performance is 3>>\ <<set $tmovement to Math.clamp($tmovement + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You flip open your script and breathe in slowly. Everyone always plays Juliet like she's either fragile or swept up in romantic fantasy—but you don't buy that. This scene, this moment under the balcony? It's not just about love. It's about ''pressure''. Juliet is a girl born into a world full of rules, expectations, and politics. She's clever enough to understand the danger of what she feels—and brave enough to step into it anyway. But that doesn't mean she's going to spill her heart recklessly. She's holding herself back. You glance across the open auditorium space, where Jordan stands with his script in hand, posture steady and composed. He doesn't look at you, but he's focused. Ready. You match him, not with flash or big movement—but with tension. With the quiet intensity of someone who has a thousand things to say, and only allows a few to escape. Jordan starts. @@.jordan;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head..."@@ His delivery is sharp, clean, controlled—every word spoken with a deliberate pace, a simmering sort of devotion. He's practiced. A lot. But it doesn't feel rehearsed. It feels aimed. At you. You shift your stance subtly, grounding yourself. And then, softly: @@.player;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"@@ You say it like it pains you to ask. Not breathless or desperate—just tired. Like you've asked this question in your head a hundred times already and you already know the answer won't change. @@.player;"Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ You don't gesture or move. But your voice catches, just barely, at "sworn my love," like it's the one part she //wants// to say but doesn't think she should. Jordan's eyes lift from his script just slightly. He doesn't break character, he would never, but you //feel// it. He's definitely listening. @@.jordan;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@ You glance away, like Juliet can feel something building behind her ribs and needs to look somewhere else to keep it contained. @@.player;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague."@@ The words come low, even, but the longer the line goes, the more your voice tenses. @@.player;"What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face..."@@ You trail off for just a breath, then bite back the next part. When it comes, it's sharper. @@.player;"O, be some other name belonging to a man."@@ Not angry. Frustrated. Frustrated that the world is this way. That this—a name—might keep them apart. @@.player;"What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet."@@ You let the line linger. it feels true, even if Juliet's only just beginning to understand it. @@.player;"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title."@@ You let the pause linger after //perfection//. Like she knows she shouldn't be thinking of him that way but can't help herself. And then, almost like you're daring him to hear it: @@.player;"Romeo, doff thy name, And, for thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself."@@ Your voice doesn't rise or crack, but the stillness of it makes the line hit even harder. You don't offer Juliet like a gift, but rather reveal her like a secret. Silence. The nervous girl is staring at you, Mr. Bennet doesn't say a word, and even the room feels like it's holding its breath. Jordan stares at you like he sees something in you now that he hasn't before. He nods. Once. The moment breaks not with silence, but with a gasp. Mr. Bennet places a hand to his chest like he's just witnessed the Second Coming. He stumbles forward a step, his scarf fluttering behind him like a trailing banner of emotion. @@.boy;"Simmering!"@@ he exclaims, voice trembling with theatrical awe. @@.boy;"Controlled! And yet—undeniable!"@@ A few students chuckle quietly. You blink, pulling yourself out of character, breath catching as the weight of the moment shifts. Jordan steps a little closer. He doesn't shower you with praise. Doesn't offer a grin or a clap on the back. Just says, low and even, @@.jordan;"That version of her? That worked."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ He shrugs, eyes still fixed ahead. @@.jordan;"Didn't expect it. But yeah."@@ From Jordan, that's about as warm as it gets. And honestly? You'll take it. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 15 - 15">><</button>>

<<if $jordanRelo > 29 or $d14jordanchoice1 isnot undefined>>\ As the class scatters across the auditorium to pair up, you catch sight of Jordan standing near the back of the room—alone, arms crossed, script in hand, gaze fixed on nothing in particular. But there's no tension in his shoulders, not like usual. You hesitate for half a second, then start walking toward him. He hears your footsteps and glances over. His expression softens the moment he sees it's you. @@.jordan;"Hey,"@@ he says, voice low but not cold. @@.jordan;"Looking for a partner?"@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Is it that obvious?"@@ Jordan shrugs, but there's a trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. @@.jordan;"You just looked like you didn't want to end up with someone who reads everything like it's a book report."@@ @@.player;"Guilty as charged,"@@ you say, chuckling. Jordan lifts his script and says, @@.jordan;"You know, I was hoping you'd come over."@@ @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ He nods, glancing toward the open space near the stage. @@.jordan;"We work well together. And I've kinda been looking forward to this scene."@@ The last part is quiet, almost like he's admitting something secret. @@.player;"I'm assuming you're going to take Romeo?"@@ you ask, raising your brows playfully. He huffs a soft laugh and gives you a sideways glance. @@.jordan;"Only if you don't mind being Juliet."@@ There's no pushiness in his tone—just a mutual trust. You know that he knows that you'll take this seriously. @@.player;"I don't mind,"@@ you affirm, nodding. @@.jordan;"Cool."@@ He gestures with his head, motioning toward a clear spot in the auditorium. @@.jordan;"Let's run it there. Less people breathing down our necks."@@ You follow him, flipping open your script as you walk. There are no desks here, just a sea of chairs, an open floor, and the stage above. It almost feels like something bigger than a classroom. Jordan steps into the space with a kind of quiet confidence. He knows where to stand. How to carry himself. The script in his hand might as well be a sword. He looks back at you and gives a small nod. @@.jordan;"Ready?"@@ @@.player;"Are you?"@@ you ask, smirking. For the first time all class, he smiles—real, just a little crooked. <<if $jordanRelo > 49>>\ @@.jordan;"With you? Yeah."@@ <<else>>\ @@.jordan;"Yeah."@@ <</if>>\ Whatever's about to happen, you're not doing it alone. Jordan's walls are lower here, you can feel it. He might not say everything out loud, but the trust is there. Now it's just a matter of choosing how you bring Juliet to life. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 14>>\ As the noise of the class swells with students pairing off, you spot Jordan leaning against the side of the stage. His script is already open, but he's not reading it. He's just.. waiting. Watching. His posture is casual, but his eyes are sharp—like he's measuring how seriously everyone's taking this. You hesitate. You and Jordan aren't exactly friends, but you've had a few good moments—he's opened up a little, here and there. Enough that the idea of partnering with him doesn't feel //risky//, just... uncertain. Still, you find yourself heading his way. He looks up when you approach, eyebrow raised. @@.player;"You good with me as a scene partner?"@@ you ask, trying to keep it casual. Jordan tilts his head, considering. Then, he gives a small shrug. @@.jordan;"Sure. Beats getting stuck with someone who doesn't know how to act."@@ He nods toward the open space near the front of the auditorium. @@.jordan;"Let's run it there."@@ You follow, flipping open your script. As you walk, he glances sideways at you. @@.jordan;"You're gonna be Juliet,"@@ he declares, voice low but steady—like he's already decided and doesn't expect a fight about it. @@.player;"Not even gonna ask?"@@ you reply, blinking. Jordan stops just short of the edge of the open floor, turning enough to look at you properly. @@.jordan;"No offense, but you'd kill it more than I would. I've got Romeo locked down. Trust me."@@ There's no bite in his tone though—only confidence. Maybe a little challenge too, like he's waiting to see if you'll push back. You pause, about to say something, but then you catch the edge of his expression. He's not trying to boss you around. He just... really wants this scene to be good. You sigh, smirking. @@.player;"Alright. Juliet it is."@@ Jordan nods, already stepping into position near the front of the room. He plants his feet like he's walked this scene a hundred times in his head, like he knows exactly where every beat should land. You find your mark a few feet away, flipping to the balcony scene, the weight of Juliet's lines now sitting heavy in your hands. Whatever this scene is going to be, he's trusting you to meet him there. <<else>>\ You scan the auditorium, eyes trailing across the shifting tide of students pairing up. The sound of flipping scripts, low chatter, and Mr. Bennet's voice ringing with theatrical praise swirls around you like background noise. And then you spot him—Jordan. He's off to the back of the room, standing with his back partially turned to the rest of the class. His arms are crossed and his script is tucked under one hand. His posture is classic Jordan: guarded and tense, like he's daring someone to interrupt his space. You hesitate. Of all the people here, he's the riskiest choice. You haven't exactly... bonded with him, to say the least. A few cold interactions. Some sharp looks. A vague mutual awareness in the halls. It's not a rivalry, but it's definitely not friendship either. Still, something draws you in. You walk over slowly, heart thudding a bit, and stop beside him. @@.player;"You got a partner?"@@ He doesn't look at you at first, just shifting his weight instead of responding. For a moment, you think he's going to ignore you. @@.jordan;"No,"@@ he finally mutters. @@.jordan;"But I'll take you."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Okay. Cool. Do you wanna—"@@ @@.jordan;"I'm playing Romeo."@@ You pause. @@.player;"...Right."@@ Jordan finally turns his head just enough to meet your eyes. His voice is low, but sharp enough to slice. @@.jordan;"You're Juliet. Don't argue about it."@@ There's no room for debate in his tone. He doesn't say it with arrogance—it's more like control. Like this is his domain, and he doesn't trust anyone else to mess it up. You hold his stare for a few beats before nodding. @@.player;"Fine. Juliet, it is."@@ He looks away again and steps into open space. You follow him, flipping to the balcony scene in your script. You can feel the wall he's got up between you—thick and concrete—but there's also something underneath it. A kind of weird precision. He's not winging this, you can tell. He's thought about this scene. Jordan glances over his shoulder. @@.jordan;"Don't half-ass it."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You think I'm going to?"@@ His eyes flicker before he looks back to the page. @@.jordan;"Just don't make me carry the scene."@@ You're not sure if that's a challenge or a warning. You grip your script a little tighter. You decide that if you're going to do this, you're going to meet him on his level. Even if he doesn't want to let you in. <</if>>\ <<button "Be calm and steady" "Day 15 - Jordan 1">>\<<set $d15performance to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Be witty and playful" "Day 15 - Jordan 1">>\<<set $d15performance to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Be wide-eyed and hopeful" "Day 15 - Jordan 1">>\<<set $d15performance to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Be restrained but simmering" "Day 15 - Jordan 1">>\<<set $d15performance to 3>>\<</button>>

<<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $femininity > 29 and $feminineLooks > 39>>\ You glance at Noelle, then down at your script, tapping your fingers against the page as you consider. @@.player;"Hmm... I think I'll play Juliet."@@ Noelle doesn't even blink. @@.noelle;"Oh—okay,"@@ she says, nodding as if you just made the most reasonable decision in the world. @@.noelle;"Uh—guess that makes me Romeo."@@ @@.player;"No reaction?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"No 'Woah, really?'"@@ She tilts her head slightly, looking at you with amused curiosity. @@.noelle;"Why would I be surprised? You'd probably pull off Juliet better than half the people in this class."@@ @@.player;"Huh?"@@ You blink. @@.noelle;"What?"@@ Noelle asks, genuinely confused. @@.noelle;"Were you expecting me to freak out or something?"@@ You scratch your cheek, thinking about it. @@.player;"...A little?"@@ @@.noelle;"Not really,"@@ she says, shaking her head. @@.noelle;"I mean, you just kinda look the part already."@@ Your stomach tenses slightly at that, but you decide to play it off. @@.player;"Guess I should've expected that."@@ @@.noelle;"Okay. So, uh. You be Juliet, I'll be Romeo."@@ She nods to herself, like she's confirming it again. @@.noelle;"Cool. Cool, cool, cool."@@ At the front of the room, Mr. Bennet is still pacing, lost in his own dramatic monologue about the passion of Shakespeare's words, but you tune him out. Noelle shifts her weight, looking at her script like she's mentally preparing for battle. After a moment, she glances at you again, cheeks slightly pink. @@.noelle;"Alright, um. Let's do this."@@ <<else>>\ You glance at Noelle, then down at your script, tapping your fingers against the page as you consider. @@.player;"Actually... I think I'll play Juliet."@@ Noelle blinks. Then blinks again. @@.noelle;"Wait, really?"@@ You shrug, like it's not a big deal. @@.player;"Sure. Why not?"@@ Noelle stares at you for a few seconds, like she's trying to figure out if you're messing with her. @@.noelle;"I mean—I //did// say I didn't mind, but I wasn't expecting you to //actually// pick Juliet."@@ @@.player;"What, do I not seem like the Juliet type?"@@ you ask, tilting your head. Noelle hesitates. @@.noelle;"I mean..."@@ She gestures vaguely at you. @@.noelle;"You just seem like you'd play Romeo."@@ @@.player;"Says who?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. She opens her mouth, then closes it, realizing she doesn't actually have an answer. Finally, she lets out a small laugh, shaking her head. @@.noelle;"Alright, alright. You wanna be Juliet? Go for it."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Glad we got that settled."@@ At the front of the room, Mr. Bennet is still dramatically pacing, waving his arms as he talks about the life and passion behind Shakespeare's words. But you barely register his voice as Noelle flips through her script again, getting used to the idea. @@.noelle;"Okay, um—just a heads-up, I might not be the //smoothest// Romeo. I kind of figured I'd be Juliet, since, y'know, girl, and I wasn't really thinking about how to make Romeo work for me."@@ @@.player;"Romeo's a mess anyway,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"Just lean into it."@@ @@.noelle;"Alright, Juliet,"@@ Noelle grins, finally seeming to relax about the whole thing. @@.noelle;"Let's see what you got."@@ <</if>>\ Now comes the real question—how are you going to approach this? <<button "Be fiery and commanding" "Day 15 - Noelle 2 (Juliet)">>\<<set $d15performance to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Be longing and vulnerable" "Day 15 - Noelle 2 (Juliet)">>\<<set $d15performance to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Be soft and sincere" "Day 15 - Noelle 2 (Juliet)">>\<<set $d15performance to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Be graceful and expressive" "Day 15 - Noelle 2 (Juliet)">>\<<set $d15performance to 3>>\<</button>>

<<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You smirk, flipping open the script. @@.player;"Alright. I'll be Romeo."@@ Noelle nods, looking a little more at ease now that a decision has been made. @@.noelle;"Cool. I guess that makes me Juliet, then."@@ She glances over her own script, skimming over the lines. @@.noelle;"I, uh—I read it, but I'm not sure I //get// how to actually say half of this."@@ You glance at the words, familiar but still ridiculous in that old Shakespearean way. Mr. Bennet claps his hands together at the front of the room. @@.boy;"Now, my star-crossed students, remember! This is //not// a performance—yet. Today, we focus on the words! Let them breathe, let them flow! Find the meaning! Find the emotion! But most of all, find the truth!"@@ @@.noelle;"Okay,"@@ Noelle murmurs, gripping her script. @@.noelle;"No pressure, right?"@@ You glance at the pages again. This scene, the balcony scene, isn't just about reading—it's about feeling the words. About making them sound like something more than just old poetry on a page. You might as well have fun with it. The question is—how do you approach it? <<button "Be bold and charismatic" "Day 15 - Noelle 2 (Romeo)">>\<<set $d15performance to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Be intense and emotional" "Day 15 - Noelle 2 (Romeo)">>\<<set $d15performance to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Be natural and relaxed" "Day 15 - Noelle 2 (Romeo)">>\<<set $d15performance to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Be expressive and physical" "Day 15 - Noelle 2 (Romeo)">>\<<set $d15performance to 3>>\<</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D15ReadingNoelle">>\ <<if $d15performance is 0>>\ <<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You square your stance, script in hand. Juliet might be young. She might be in love. But she is ''not'' weak. She's trapped between loyalty to her family and the overwhelming rush of her heart, but that doesn't make her passive. No—Juliet //knows// what she wants. She speaks with purpose, conviction, and defiance. And that's how you're going to read her. Noelle begins first, reading as Romeo. @@.noelle;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a wingèd messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturnèd wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air."@@ Her voice is steady, maybe a little hesitant. But that's okay—Romeo's a dreamer. Juliet, on the other hand? She's ''fire''. You lift your chin slightly and let your voice ring out, firm and clear. @@.player;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"@@ You don't sigh it. You demand it. The frustration in her voice is palpable—why does the person she loves have to be from the //one// family she can't be with? @@.player;"Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ You point slightly with the last line, not in a dramatic stagey way, but with purpose. Juliet is ''not'' asking for permission. She's offering a deal—an //ultimatum//—with her whole soul behind it. Noelle looks up at you, blinking slightly. She almost misses her cue. @@.noelle;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@ You don't wait. You pace slightly, gripping the script like the words are fuel. @@.player;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague..."@@ There's frustration in your tone, but it's not aimless. It's focused—Juliet's anger isn't wild, it's justified. She's tearing apart the logic of the world behind her. @@.player;"What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face. O, be some other name Belonging to a man."@@ You gesture outward, sweeping a hand as if to shove the idea of names out of the air. Each line builds momentum. Each phrase strikes harder. @@.player;"What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet."@@ The line isn't wistful, but rather sharp, like Juliet is poking holes in the foundations of her world. @@.player;"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title."@@ You stare ahead, eyes focused, unwavering. This Juliet, //your// Juliet, doesn't just wish—she knows what could be true. And then— @@.player;"Romeo, doff thy name, And, for thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself."@@ The final line hits like a strike. Not desperate, not begging—just real. A bold offering from someone who means it. The room goes still. Noelle lowers her script slightly, her eyes wide. @@.noelle;"Wow,"@@ she murmurs. You arch a brow, but there's a small grin tugging at your lips. @@.player;"Was I too much?"@@ @@.noelle;"No,"@@ she says, shaking her head. @@.noelle;"That was, like, powerful. I didn't know Juliet could //sound// like that."@@ But before either of you can say more— Mr. Bennet erupts into applause. @@.boy;"YES!"@@ he yells, twirling in place, scarf flaring behind him like a cape. @@.boy;"That is what I //live// for! A Juliet who doesn't wilt like a flower, but burns like the sun!"@@ Students glance over, some startled, some entertained. Mr. Bennet turns back to you, eyes gleaming. @@.boy;"Strength! Command! She does not ask—she chooses!"@@ You chuckle quietly at Mr. Bennet's theatrics. But then— Your eyes meet Jordan's across the room. He's watching. Intently. There's something sharp in his expression. Not judgment or amusement. But rather focus. Like he's reconsidering his opinion of you. He doesn't look away and neither do you. Mr. Bennet finally claps again, pulling the room back into motion. @@.boy;"Alright, everyone! Let us continue! The stage waits for no one!"@@ Noelle flips back through her script. @@.noelle;"You really threw me off, you know."@@ @@.player;"You'll get me back next time,"@@ you say, chuckling. A small smile grows on her face. @@.noelle;"Deal."@@ Theater class just got a whole lot more interesting. <<elseif $d15performance is 1>>\ <<set $tdelivery to Math.clamp($tdelivery + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You take a slow breath, letting your fingers rest lightly on the script. Juliet isn't just making some idle observation in this scene—she's aching. She wants something she knows she can't have, but that doesn't stop her from yearning for it anyway. This isn't about drama. It's about desperation. So you let yourself feel it. Noelle flips open her script and takes a breath before speaking. @@.noelle;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a wingèd messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturnèd wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air."@@ Her voice is steady, but you barely even register it, too caught up in what Juliet is feeling at this exact moment. You inhale and begin. @@.player;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"@@ The words come out soft—softer than a whisper, like Juliet is pleading with the universe to change something that can't be changed. @@.player;"Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ You let your voice tremble just slightly, like Juliet already knows how impossible this is. Like she's saying it because she //has// to, because keeping it inside would hurt too much. Noelle hesitates—just for a second—before remembering her next line. @@.noelle;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@ You close your eyes briefly before continuing, like Juliet is trying not to break under the weight of her own emotions. @@.player;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague..."@@ Your breath catches slightly, but you don't fight it—you let the emotion seep through, let Juliet's helplessness fill the words. @@.player;"What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face. O, be some other name Belonging to a man."@@ You press a hand lightly against your chest as you speak, like Juliet is physically holding in something overwhelming, like she's trying to hold herself together. @@.player;"What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet."@@ You barely get the words out, your voice shaking as you speak—not from nerves, but from feeling the ache behind them. @@.player;"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title."@@ You let out a breath, quiet but heavy. And then— @@.player;"Romeo, doff thy name, And, for thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself."@@ The words break slightly at the end, raw and full of longing, like Juliet is giving something away that she knows she shouldn't, but she can't stop herself. And then—silence. Noelle is staring. The room isn't completely silent—other students are still reading, whispering, and shuffling papers—but in your space, in this moment, it feels like there's nothing else. Noelle swallows. @@.noelle;"...Wow."@@ Her grip on the script is loose now, like she forgot she was holding it. You exhale, letting Juliet's emotions settle, pulling yourself back into the present. @@.player;"Good wow?"@@ Noelle shakes her head, still processing. @@.noelle;"No, like—damn. That was... intense."@@ You smirk slightly. @@.noelle;"Well, Juliet's got a lot going on."@@ Before Noelle can respond, a loud ''clap'' rings through the room. Mr. Bennet stands at the front, shining with delight, one hand over his heart, the other flung out dramatically. @@.boy;"Oh! Oh, the yearning! The ache! That is the sound of love that hurts as much as it burns."@@ He spins toward the rest of the class. @@.boy;"Did you see it? Feel it? That, my dear students, is the weight of love denied!"@@ Noelle groans. @@.noelle;"Oh God. He's having a moment."@@ Mr. Bennet wipes an imaginary tear. @@.boy;"A moment, indeed."@@ You chuckle, but then— You feel eyes on you. Jordan. He's watching. His arms are crossed, but his posture is different—he's leaning forward slightly, studying you with something deeper than mild interest. He doesn't say anything, but his gaze lingers, like he's assessing you. Noelle finally exhales, shaking her head. @@.noelle;"Okay, yeah. I definitely need to step up my game."@@ @@.player;"Guess that means we're practicing,"@@ you joke, smirking. She huffs a laugh, but the look in her eyes isn't exasperation, but rather something excited. Mr. Bennet claps his hands. @@.boy;"Onward, my students! There is so much more to discover!"@@ Theater class is //definitely// going to be interesting. <<elseif $d15performance is 2>>\ <<set $timmersion to Math.clamp($timmersion + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You take a take a steady breath, letting your fingers loosen their grip on the script. There's no need for grand gestures or exaggerated drama—because this moment isn't about spectacle. It's about honesty. Juliet isn't standing on her balcony delivering a rehearsed speech. She isn't trying to be poetic or larger than life. She's just thinking out loud, talking to herself, wishing for something impossible. And that's how you're going to play her. Noelle watches you for a moment, then clears her throat and starts. @@.noelle;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a wingèd messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturnèd wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air."@@ Her voice is steady but a little hesitant, like she's still getting used to the words. But there's something earnest in it, something that makes it clear she's trying. You glance down at your script, then let out a slow breath before speaking. @@.player;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"@@ Your voice is soft and quiet, like Juliet is speaking more to herself than anyone else. You don't force the line into something theatrical—you just say it the way someone lost in thought would. @@.player;"Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ You don't look at Noelle as you say it, because Juliet isn't aware she's being watched. You let the words slip out naturally, like they're secrets carried on the night air. There's a brief pause. You glance up just in time to see something change in Noelle's expression. Her grip on her script eases and her shoulders relax slightly. And when she takes her next line, her voice is quieter and more thoughtful—like your delivery shifted something in her approach. @@.noelle;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@ You inhale and keep going, your voice carrying a softness that lingers in the air. @@.player;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague..."@@ You don't overthink the words. You don't try to perform them. You just believe them. Juliet isn't bitter here—she's hopeful. She's trying to make sense of something that shouldn't make any sense. So you let that emotion settle into your tone, that quiet, aching kind of hope. Noelle watches you closely now, eyes flickering between you and the script, like she's seeing Juliet in a way she hadn't before. @@.player;"What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face. O, be some other name Belonging to a man."@@ You shake your head slightly as you say it, as if Juliet is frustrated that the world is so stubborn, so caught up in things that shouldn't matter. @@.player;"What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet."@@ Your voice dips even softer on the last few words, like you're turning them over in your head, feeling the ''weight'' of them. @@.player;"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title."@@ You hesitate just for a second, then close your eyes briefly, like Juliet is letting herself //believe// for just a moment that things could be different. That names could be nothing. That love could be simple. @@.player;"Romeo, doff thy name, And, for thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself."@@ The words leave your lips like an exhale, like Juliet is giving herself to this idea before she even realizes she's said it out loud. And then—silence. The room isn't dead silent, but it //feels// like it is. You glance at Noelle and she's staring. Not in a bad way—more like she wasn't expecting that. She blinks once, then shakes her head slightly, a quiet laugh escaping. @@.noelle;"Wow, okay. I //really// need to step up my game."@@ @@.player;"You did well though,"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.noelle;"No, //you// did well,"@@ she responds. @@.noelle;"I was just reading. You actually felt it."@@ @@.player;"That's kind of the point, isn't it?"@@ you ask. Before she can respond, a sudden ''clap'' cuts through the air. Mr. Bennet stands at the front of the room, both hands pressed dramatically over his chest. @@.boy;"Ohh, my dear students, what a gift you have given me!"@@ He spins on his heel, scarf fluttering. @@.boy;"A Juliet so sincere, so honest! Not a performance, but a confession!"@@ He turns to Noelle. @@.boy;"And my dear Romeo, you must listen—not just speak! Feel the words in your heart, not just on your tongue!"@@ @@.noelle;"Oh my God, he's right,"@@ Noelle groans. @@.noelle;"I //was// just saying the words."@@ Mr. Bennet nods, satisfied. @@.boy;"But you see it now! And that is the first step!"@@ A few students chuckle under their breath, but there's something different about the energy in the room now—like people are actually paying attention. And Jordan? He's watching, too. He doesn't say anything, but the way he studies you and the way his eyes linger says enough. You got his attention. Mr. Bennet claps his hands again. @@.boy;"Alright! Let us continue, my dear students! There is so much more to discover in these words!"@@ As the class moves on, Noelle lets out a breath and glances at you again. @@.noelle;"Alright, I have to get better at this."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Guess that means we'll just have to practice more."@@ She blinks, then smiles. @@.noelle;"Yeah, I guess we will."@@ Something about the way she says it makes you think she's actually excited about it. Theater class is definitely going to be interesting. <<elseif $d15performance is 3>>\ <<set $tmovement to Math.clamp($tmovement + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You take a slow breath. Juliet's words aren't meant to be spoken stiffly, trapped on the page. No, they're meant to move, to flow. She isn't standing still in the scene; she's caught up in something bigger than herself, emotions too overwhelming to contain. So you're not going to just //say// the words. You're going to //live// them. Noelle starts first, reading as Romeo. Her voice is steady, but she's still adjusting to the role, still finding her rhythm. @@.noelle;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a wingèd messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturnèd wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air."@@ You let the words settle before stepping into the moment. Without hesitation, you shift your weight, lifting your head like you're gazing out into the night. And then, as if the words are being pulled from you by something you can't control, you let them spill out. @@.player;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"@@ Your voice is soft but searching, your whole body moving with the words—first stepping lightly to the side, then turning your face toward an unseen sky, as if reaching for something just out of grasp. @@.player;"Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ You let your hands follow the emotions, palms opening slightly as if letting something slip through your fingers—like Juliet is trying to let go of reality but can't quite manage it. Noelle watches you closely, taking a second before she remembers her next line. @@.noelle;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@ You take another step, slow and deliberate, as if Juliet is moving //with// her thoughts, carried by them. @@.player;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague..."@@ You pause between the words, turning slightly, as if pacing through your own frustration. @@.player;"What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face."@@ As you speak, you gesture absently, like trying to physically rid yourself of the idea, like trying to shake off the weight of a name that shouldn't matter. @@.player;"O, be some other name Belonging to a man."@@ Your voice dips quieter in the second half, fingers pressing against your chest, like Juliet is realizing that even though she wants to believe names don't matter, the world says otherwise. Noelle inhales slightly, watching your movements instead of just listening. You take another slow step as you continue. @@.player;"What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet."@@ You lift your hand slightly, fingers trailing through the air as if you're tracing invisible petals, your voice light but wistful. @@.player;"So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, Retain that dear perfection which he owes, Without that title."@@ You let yourself breathe between each thought, turning your face upward slightly, like you're hoping the universe itself will agree with you. And then, with the greatest exhale, you close your eyes and whisper the final plea. @@.player;"Romeo, doff thy name, And, for thy name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself."@@ Your hands press lightly over your heart as you say it, as if offering something tangible, something real—before, slowly, you let them fall back to your sides, the words lingering in the space between you and Noelle. Silence. Noelle is staring at you, script slightly lowered. She blinks once, then exhales like she forgot to breathe. @@.noelle;"Oh. Wow."@@ @@.player;"Good wow?"@@ you ask, shaking off the moment. She nods slowly. @@.noelle;"That was... really pretty, yeah. Like, the way you moved with it? That was good."@@ Before you can answer, Mr. Bennet suddenly claps, loud and delighted. @@.boy;"Ahh! Now we have a Juliet who moves!"@@ His scarf flutters as he spins on his heel. @@.boy;"The words are not just spoken! They are felt! They take shape! They breathe!"@@ He turns to the rest of the class, eyes gleaming. @@.boy;"This, my dear students, is the art of theater! The body tells the story as much as the voice."@@ Noelle lets out a breath and shakes her head. @@.noelle;"I'm going to have to step up my game if I want that kind of praise from Mr. Bennet."@@ @@.player;"We should practice,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.noelle;"Yeah, I think we should,"@@ she replies, a small smile growing on her face. And then— You feel it again. A gaze lingering. Jordan. He's not just watching. He's assessing, like he's picking apart every moment, every choice you just made. His arms are still crossed, but he's sitting up now, leaning forward slightly. He doesn't say a word. But the way he looks at you says enough. Mr. Bennet claps his hands again. @@.boy;"Alright, my dear thespians! Let us continue! There is //so much// more to discover!"@@ Theater class is a lot of things, but you realize one can never call it boring. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 15 - 15">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D15ReadingNoelle">>\ <<if $d15performance is 0>>\ <<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $shy to Math.clamp($shy - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $confident to Math.clamp($confident + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You flip open the script and roll your shoulders back, already settling into the role. If you're going to do this, you might as well do it right. Romeo isn't some timid, lovesick fool—he's dramatic and confident, a guy who would literally ''die'' for romance. He sneaks into a deadly enemy's garden in the middle of the night to talk to a girl he literally just met. He's not holding back. So neither will you. You glance at Noelle. @@.player;"Ready?"@@ She swallows, gripping her script. @@.noelle;"Uh—yeah. I think."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Good."@@ Then, without hesitation, you step forward, lift your chin, and let the words take over. @@.player;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a wingèd messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturnèd wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air."@@ Your voice is smooth, confident—not just reciting but commanding the words. You tilt your head up slightly, like you're actually staring up at Juliet's balcony, like you're completely enchanted by her. You let the lines flow naturally, each one filled with admiration, with a touch of teasing charm—like Romeo //knows// he's irresistible. Noelle blinks. Her grip on the script tightens. You're surprised she hasn't ripped the poor thing by now. For a second, it looks like she forgets what she's supposed to say. You raise an eyebrow slightly, waiting. She lets out a breath, cheeks slightly pink, and finally speaks. @@.noelle;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ You smirk, stepping closer, lowering your voice just enough to make the next line sound conspiratorial. @@.player;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@ Noelle inhales sharply—whether because of the line or because she wasn't expecting you to deliver it like //that//, you're not sure. But you are sure that you have her attention. Her voice is a little steadier now, but you can tell she's quickly finding her footing. @@.noelle;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague..."@@ You nod slightly as she gains confidence, letting her have the moment while keeping your presence strong too. When she finally reaches her last line, @@.noelle;"Take all myself,"@@ you don't hesitate. You place a hand over your heart, grinning as if you've just won the greatest prize in the world. @@.player;"I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo."@@ You deliver it with certainty, full of devotion, like of course you would throw away your entire identity for this girl. You stand tall, as if daring the world to challenge your love. And then—silence. Noelle stares at you, wide-eyed, her script slightly lowered. A few students, clearly eavesdropping from their own readings, exchange glances. Even Mr. Bennet is watching you now, one hand over his heart, the other clutching his scarf like he might actually swoon. But the reaction that stands out most? Jordan. His arms are crossed as he studies you. It's not disapproval. If anything... it looks like interest. Noelle finally breaks the silence with a nervous laugh. @@.noelle;"Uh. Wow."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Good wow or bad wow?"@@ She huffs, still pink-faced. @@.noelle;"You //really// committed to that, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Romeo doesn't half-ass things,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"Why should I?"@@ She exhales, shaking her head, but there's a smile on her face now. @@.noelle;"Okay. Well. Now I feel like I should actually act instead of just reading."@@ Mr. Bennet suddenly claps his hands together, stepping forward. @@.boy;"Oh, magnificent! That is the kind of energy we need! Passion! Charm! A Romeo who //dares// to love so boldly!"@@ He turns to Noelle. @@.boy;"And my dear Juliet, your hesitancy was not a flaw—it was real! The push and pull of love! The awe of realizing someone sees you so intensely!"@@ Noelle gives you a slightly exasperated look. @@.noelle;"Yeah, well, it's hard //not// to react when Romeo is practically flirting with the whole room."@@ @@.player;"I had to keep the audience engaged,"@@ you reply, smirking. Mr. Bennet claps his hands. @@.boy;"Exactly! Yes!"@@ A few students chuckle, and Noelle shakes her head, but she looks more relaxed now—like some of her nerves have melted away. @@.boy;"Alright, my dear thespians, let us continue!"@@ Mr. Bennet announces. @@.boy;"The words are alive—now let's see who else dares to embrace them!"@@ As he moves on, you catch Jordan watching you again. He doesn't say anything, opting to just lift an eyebrow, like he's acknowledging what you did. You nod back, just a little. Yeah. Theater class is shaping up to be pretty fun. <<elseif $d15performance is 1>>\ <<set $tdelivery to Math.clamp($tdelivery + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You flip open the script, but instead of focusing on the words, you focus on what ''Romeo'' must be feeling at this moment. This isn't just some overdramatic love confession. This is desperation. This is a boy who is already lost in this girl, standing under the stars, begging the universe to make this love real. He's overwhelmed, completely consumed. And that's how you're going to read it. You inhale, steady yourself, and let the emotion take over. @@.player;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a wingèd messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturnèd wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air."@@ Your voice is low at first, almost reverent, as if you can't believe Juliet is even //real//. Then you let it build, filled with longing, with a quiet ache—like Romeo isn't just speaking these words, but pleading with the heavens to listen. Noelle stiffens slightly, eyes wide. She grips her script tighter, and you can tell she wasn't expecting this. For a second, she forgets to speak. You glance at her, breaking character just enough to give her space. She blinks, inhales sharply, and finally finds her voice. @@.noelle;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ Her voice wavers a little, but that actually //works//—like Juliet herself is struggling against something too big to understand. You take the next line @@.player;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@ and make it quiet and breathless, like Romeo is afraid of ruining the moment but ''cannot'' stay silent any longer. Noelle exhales, steadying herself. She pushes forward, her voice growing stronger as she speaks. @@.noelle;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague..."@@ You barely notice the rest of the class anymore. It's just you and her with the weight of these words filling the space between you. And then she reaches her last line—@@.noelle;"Take all myself."@@ Your breath catches slightly. You don't even have to think before answering. Your voice comes out firm, filled with certainty, devotion, and something raw that Romeo himself probably doesn't understand yet. @@.player;"I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo."@@ The words hang in the air like they mean something. Like they matter. Silence. Noelle stares at you, mouth slightly open, her script lowered. Somewhere in the room, a few students—who were clearly eavesdropping—exchange glances. Mr. Bennet has one hand over his mouth, eyes practically shimmering. And Jordan— Jordan is watching. His eyes are focused and his jaw is set as he studies you with something serious in his expression. A kind of respect, almost. Finally, Noelle clears her throat, looking completely flustered. @@.noelle;"Wow. Um. Wow."@@ You let out a breath, still feeling the last traces of Romeo's desperation in your chest. @@.player;"Is that the good kind of wow?"@@ She blinks. @@.noelle;"I mean, yeah! You really //felt// that."@@ Mr. Bennet suddenly claps his hands together, looking utterly exchanged. @@.boy;"Oh, magnificent! That—that is what I mean when I say //feel// the words! The ache, the devotion, the gravity of love itself!"@@ He gestures wildly. @@.boy;"You did not merely //speak// Romeo's heart—you bled it!"@@ Noelle shakes her head, still looking overwhelmed. @@.noelle;"Yeah, no kidding."@@ @@.player;"Romeo //is// kind of a mess,"@@ you saying trying to shake off the intensity. @@.player;"Might as well embrace it, right?"@@ Mr. Bennet sighs dramatically, pressing a hand to his heart. @@.boy;"Oh, if only all my students were so willing to embrace emotion!"@@ You glance at Jordan again. He still hasn't said anything. But he gives you the smallest nod, like he sees what you just did. And honestly? That feels better than any compliment. The scene is over, but something about it lingers. <<elseif $d15performance is 2>>\ <<set $timmersion to Math.clamp($timmersion + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You glance over the script, rolling your shoulders back. Some people might go all-in with grand gestures or dramatic intensity, but that's not how you see Romeo. You don't see Romeo as delivering a speech to a crowd or making some grand declaration for the world to hear. He's just a guy, standing in the middle of the night, talking to someone who makes him feel different—someone who makes him want to say things he's never said before. And that's exactly how you're going to read it. You exhale and step into the role like it's something comfortable. @@.player;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a wingèd messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturnèd wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air."@@ Your voice is steady and warm—not overly dramatic, not exaggerated. Just ''real''. You let the words fall naturally, like Romeo isn't thinking too hard about them, rather just saying what he feels. Noelle blinks, her grip on the script loosening slightly. She hesitates for a moment, but then, she lets out a breath and matches your energy. @@.noelle;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ You smirk slightly, lowering your voice just enough to make the next line sound like a casual thought slipping out. @@.player;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@ Noelle exhales a quiet laugh, like she wasn't expecting that delivery but kind of likes it. She presses forward, her words growing more confident. @@.noelle;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague..."@@ The conversation flows, easy and natural. Like Romeo and Juliet aren't two grand, tragic figures, but just two people in the middle of a moment neither of them fully understands yet. By the time Noelle reaches her last line—@@.noelle;"Take all myself,"@@—she sounds comfortable. Like she's not worried about messing up anymore. You tilt your head slightly, grinning as you reply. @@.player;"I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo."@@ The words come out //genuine//. No forced weight behind them, no exaggerated performance—just something //honest//. Like Romeo truly believes that if Juliet asked him to, he'd drop everything and be something new, and he wouldn't even hesitate. For a second, there's silence. Then, Noelle lets out a quiet giggle, shaking her head. @@.noelle;"That actually felt... kinda real."@@ @@.player;"Maybe because it is?"@@ you ask, shrugging. She looks down at her script, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. @@.noelle;"Huh."@@ Mr. Bennet, who had been watching //very// closely, sighs dramatically, pressing his hands together. @@.boy;"Oh, brilliant! You strip away the grandeur, and suddenly, the words breathe!"@@ He gestures wildly. @@.boy;"Yes! That is the beauty of Shakespeare! It does not //need// embellishment—it needs truth!"@@ @@.noelle;"Guess you nailed that, then,"@@ Noelle says, glancing at you. @@.player;"I just read the words,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"Romeo's the one who did all the work."@@ Mr. Bennet wipes an imaginary tear from his eye before turning back to the rest of the class. @@.boy;"Let this be a lesson, my dear students! Shakespeare is not meant to be recited—it is meant to be lived!"@@ A few students chuckle, but the energy in the room has shifted—it's almost as if people are actually starting to engage with the material. And Jordan? Jordan is watching. His expression is unreadable at first, but then, after a beat, he gives you the smallest nod—like he //gets// what you were doing. And somehow, that makes the whole thing feel all the more real. <<elseif $d15performance is 3>>\ <<set $tmovement to Math.clamp($tmovement + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You roll your shoulders back, letting out a breath as you flip to the right page in the script. Some people might read Romeo's words as poetry, something delicate and beautiful—but you see something more alive in them. Romeo isn't just reciting lines in his head. He's feeling every word and moving with every thought. And that's how you're going to play him. Noelle stands beside you, gripping her script, but you're already stepping forward, shifting your weight like you're actually standing in the shadows of Juliet's balcony, looking up at her. Then you start. @@.player;"O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a wingèd messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturnèd wond'ring eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air."@@ You don't just //say// the words—you //live// them. You gesture upward as if you're truly seeing Juliet above you, your expression shifting with every thought, like Romeo himself is overwhelmed by what he's looking at. You step lightly, pacing slightly, your body restless with emotion, like there's too much inside you to stay still. Noelle blinks, visibly startled by your energy, but she quickly catches up. @@.noelle;"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name, Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."@@ As she speaks, you react—not just with your face, but with your entire body. When she asks, //wherefore art though Romeo?//, you lift a hand slightly, almost as if wanting to reach for her but stopping yourself. Your expression flickers, thoughtful, longing. Then, when you take your next line—@@.player;"Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?"@@—you shift closer, as if Romeo is caught between staying hidden and stepping forward. The words are spoken softly, but your body is tense, charged with the urge to move. Noelle inhales slightly, but keeps going. @@.noelle;"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague..."@@ You nod slightly as if agreeing with her words, as if they //physically// make sense to Romeo. And when she reaches her final line—@@.noelle;"Take all myself."@@—you don't hesitate. You take a step closer, one hand pressing over your heart. @@.player;"I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo."@@ You let the final words sink in, exhaling slowly, like Romeo has just made a life-altering decision in real-time. Silence. Noelle stares at you, script half-lowered, her breath slightly uneven—like she wasn't expecting you to //move// so much, to be so present in the scene. And the rest of the class? They noticed. You hear a few murmurs, a few whispers, but most of all—you see Mr. Bennet, hands clasped together, eyes gleaming with approval. @@.boy;"Oh! //Oh!// That—that was feeling!"@@ He gestured wildly toward you. @@.boy;"That was not just words on a page! That was physicality! That was presence!"@@ He turns to the rest of the class. @@.boy;"Did you see? Did you feel it? This, my dear students, is theater!"@@ Some students laugh but others actually look interested now. Noelle shakes her head slightly, still looking a little overwhelmed. @@.noelle;"Wow. You, uh—you really get into it, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Romeo isn't exactly the kind of guy who sits still and thinks it over,"@@ you reply with a grin. She exhales a laugh. @@.noelle;"Yeah, no kidding."@@ And then, just when you think the moment is over, you catch something else— Jordan. He's not just watching. He's studying you. His arms are crossed, but his posture isn't closed off like usual. He looks... thoughtful. Impressed, even. He doesn't say anything, but the way his gaze lingers makes something clear: You caught his attention. Mr. Bennet claps his hands again. @@.boy;"Alright, my dear students! Let us continue! Let the words live!"@@ As the class shifts back to work, you can still feel the energy of the scene lingering in the air. Theater class is definitely going to be interesting. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 15 - 15">><</button>>

You take one last glance at Jordan, then shift your focus back to the girl clutching her script like it's a shield. She's still standing there, flipping through the pages too fast to be absorbing anything, her fingers gripping the edges a little too tightly. She doesn't look like she's going to approach anyone. So you decide to take the lead. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, stepping closer. @@.player;"Need a partner?"@@ Her head snaps up so quickly you almost feel bad for startling her. Wide brown eyes blink up at you, startled at first, then softening into relief. @@.noelle;"Oh—uh—yes. I do."@@ She pauses, then lets out a nervous laugh. @@.noelle;"Kind of thought I'd end up reading alone for a second there."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"Not on my watch."@@ She gives you a small, grateful smile, shifting the script in her hands. @@.noelle;"Thanks. I, um—sorry, I don't think we've talked before. I'm Noelle."@@ Noelle. You make a mental note of it. @@.player;"I'm $name."@@ @@.noelle;"I know,"@@ she blurts out, then immediately turns pink. @@.noelle;"I mean—not in a weird way! Just—you're in this class. I've heard Mr. Bennet say your name before."@@ @@.player;"Have you been watching me from afar?"@@ you ask, a smirk on your face. Her face turns an even darker shade of red. @@.noelle;"That's not what I meant!"@@ @@.player;"I'm just messing with you,"@@ you say, laughing lightly. You couldn't help it. Noelle exhales, shoulders loosening slightly. @@.noelle;"Okay, okay. You had me panicking for a second."@@ You glance at the script she's holding. @@.player;"So, which one do you want to play?"@@ @@.noelle;"Huh?"@@ she asks, blinking. @@.player;"For the scene,"@@ you clarify. @@.player;"Romeo or Juliet?"@@ Her lips part like she hadn't even considered that part yet. @@.noelle;"Oh. Right. Um..."@@ She glances down at the pages in her hands, clearly overthinking. <<if $d15describerj is 0 or $d15describerj is 3>>\ You give her a moment before speaking. @@.player;"Would you rather be the lovesick idiot or the slightly more reasonable but still doomed love interest?"@@ <<else>>\ You give her a moment before tilting your head. @@.player;"Would you rather be the hopeless romantic who thinks love can solve everything, or the one who actually has some sense—until she doesn't?"@@ <</if>>\ That gets a small laugh out of her. @@.noelle;"Well, when you put it //that// way."@@ She hesitates. @@.noelle;"I mean, I //guess// it makes sense for me to play Juliet, but if you want to switch things up, I really wouldn't mind."@@ She's letting you decide. <<button "I'll play Romeo" "Day 15 - Noelle 1 (Romeo)">>\<<set $d15noellecharacter to true>>\<<trackChoice "D15_noelle_character" "romeo" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'll play Juliet" "Day 15 - Noelle 1 (Juliet)">>\<<set $d15noellecharacter to false>>\<<trackChoice "D15_noelle_character" "juliet" "story">><</button>>

You try to focus. The words on the page blur a little—nothing dramatic, just enough to make your eyes sting when you try and reread the same paragraph for the fifth time. Your pen taps softly against your notebook, rhythm uneven. Across the library, Vincent is quiet. He hasn't moved in a while. He's tucked himself behind a shelf near the windows, slouched slightly in his chair, a history book open in front of him and a closed one resting against his elbow. He's not really reading, though. You can tell. Every now and then, he flips a page without looking at it. You glance up just as he runs a hand through his hair—twice, slow and nervous. Then, he scribbles something quickly in the margin of his notebook, only to stare at it for a few seconds before turning back to the book. You look down again, at your own notes. Try to get through a few practice questions. But the silence around you doesn't feel calming anymore. It feels... heavy. You told yourself you needed to focus. That studying alone would be better. Quieter. More efficient. But all you can think about is the way Vincent's face had lit up when he saw you—like just seeing you had made his day. The way his voice cracked, just barely, when he tried to play it off. And that quiver in his lip. That thing you definitely were //not// supposed to see. You shake your head, force your eyes back on the screen, and push through another couple of lines. Time crawls. You don't remember what you read. It doesn't stick. Eventually, the words stop making sense altogether. You exhale, close your notebook, and start packing your bag. Vincent hasn't moved. He's still there, in the same seat, still looking down like he might finally absorb something if he just stares long enough. You hesitate. Then zip your bag closed, stand, and head for the door. No goodbyes. Just the quiet creak of your footsteps. Behind you, you hear the sound of a pencil softly scratching on paper as if he's still trying. Even now. <<button "To home" "Day 15 - 19">><</button>>

<<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You pause. Just long enough for his smile to falter and his shoulders to dip ever so slightly. @@.player;"Maybe another time,"@@ you say gently, not wanting to hurt him. @@.player;"I just... need to focus today."@@ Vincent doesn't flinch. Doesn't protest. He just nods. Once. Sharp. Too sharp. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says, trying to smile like it doesn't matter. @@.vincent;"No, yeah. Totally. I—I get it."@@ He hugs his books a little closer to his chest. @@.vincent;"You'd probably concentrate better without me rambling anyway."@@ You open your mouth to say something—anything—but he's already turned. His steps are careful and controlled. He doesn't rush, but you can tell he's moving just fast enough to leave before anything slips out. He finds a seat near the back, half-tucked behind a shelf. He's not hidden, but he's definitely out of the way. He opens one of the books and stares at the page for a long moment. But he doesn't turn it. The light from the window hits his face just enough to catch the way his lips press together a little too tight and the way his jaw clenches like he's trying to keep it steady. And then—just for a second—his bottom lip quivers. He looks down fast, like he hopes you didn't see it. Like if he turns the page quickly enough, it'll pass. Like if he pretends hard enough, it won't matter. But you saw it. You were the one person in this whole building who looked at him like he wasn't weird. Like he wasn't some character waiting for a group project partner to pretend to tolerate him. You made him feel seen. And now he's sitting alone, in a room full of empty chairs, holding back whatever's trying to break through. You look at your laptop and try to focus. But the page you had open doesn't even make sense anymore. And the silence? It feels like ''guilt''. <<button "Study" "Day 15 - Study (Solo) 1">><</button>>

You and Vincent settle into an easy rhythm. Books open, pencils moving, the table between you slowly fills with highlighters, loose paper, and sticky notes. He talks as he works. Not in a distracting way—just... in a Vincent way. A soft murmur of thoughts shared aloud, sometimes about the assignment, sometimes about whatever historical tangent he's wandered into next. @@.vincent;"Did you know Newton basically wrote more about alchemy than he did about physics?"@@ he mumbles at one point, scribbling something down in the margins of his notebook. @@.vincent;"People think of him as this ultra-rational Enlightenment guy, but he was obsessed with turning lead into gold and finding secret divine codes in the Bible. Like—he really thought he was going to unlock the universe with that!"@@ You glance over. @@.player;"That sounds completely unhinged."@@ Vincent beams. @@.vincent;"Right? It's kind of amazing. People are complicated like that."@@ He returns to his notes, bouncing his foot under the table like it's connected to his brain. A few minutes pass, both of you focused, the silence between you filled only with the soft scratch of pencils and the distant hum of a library printer starting up. Then, quieter, he says, @@.vincent;"Do you ever think about, like... next year?"@@ The question slips out so softly it almost blends into the background. You glance up from your notes to find Vincent still hunched over his textbook, pencil resting against his lips. He doesn't look at you—not really. Just sort of stares past his own perfect handwriting like he's halfway inside his own head. You decide to wait for a moment before answering, unsure if he even meant for you to answer. But he fills the silence himself before you can say anything. @@.vincent;"I mean... senior year feels like it's going by //so// fast. And I know that's what everyone says, but..."@@ He lets out a nervous laugh, barely audible. @@.vincent;"It really is."@@ @@.vincent;"I keep looking at college stuff,"@@ he continues, his voice low and steady now, @@.vincent;"but every time I pull up a website or try to work on my applications, I just... I freeze. Like, what if I pick the wrong place? What if I don't even get accepted anywhere? OR what if I do, but I don't belong there, or I mess it up, or—"@@ He cuts himself off and gives a sheepish smile, still not meeting your eyes. @@.vincent;"Sorry. Rambling again."@@ But he isn't really. You watch him for a second and it's clear he's scared of not knowing where he's going or who he'll be a year from now. It's the kind of fear that's quiet, slow, and heavy in the chest. @@.vincent;"I just thought I'd have it more figured out by now,"@@ he adds. @@.vincent;"How about you, $name? Do you know what you want to do?"@@ You sit back a little, your pencil resting against your notebook. Because truthfully... you've been wondering the same thing. <<button "I think I want to leave Crestview Bay" "Day 15 - Study (Vincent) 2">>\<<set $d15vincentfuture to true>>\<</button>> <<button "I think I want to stay in Crestview Bay" "Day 15 - Study (Vincent) 2">>\<<set $d15vincentfuture to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $d15vincentfuture is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D15LeaveBay">>\ You glance down at your notebook, pretending to reread a sentence that's already faded from your focus. Then you say it—softly at first, but without hesitation. @@.player;"I think I want to leave Crestview Bay."@@ Vincent blinks, caught off guard. He doesn't interrupt, so you keep going, the words falling into place like pieces you didn't know were waiting to be arranged. @@.player;"I mean... I've lived here my whole life. I know every street, every shortcut, every creaky floorboard. I'm grateful for that, but sometimes it just feels like..."@@ You pause, searching for the right words. @@.player;"Like I'm outgrowing it. Or maybe it's outgrowing me."@@ You look up, and Vincent is watching you closely now—quiet, eyes soft, pencil forgotten in his hand. @@.player;"I keep thinking about what it'd be like to go somewhere where no one knows me,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Where I don't feel like I'm stuck playing this one version of myself because everyone else expects it."@@ Vincent shifts, gently setting his pencil down, his brow furrowing just slightly—not in judgment, but in understanding. @@.player;"It's not that I hate it here,"@@ you add quickly. @@.player;"There are things I'd miss. People I'd miss. But I want to know what else is out there. What I could be if I wasn't always... this version of me."@@ Vincent doesn't say anything right away, but when he does, his voice is quieter than before. @@.vincent;"I get that."@@ He taps his fingers thoughtfully. @@.vincent;"Sometimes I think... if I left, I could finally breathe. Like the air wouldn't be so full of who people //expect// me to be who I've always been."@@ You nod, the silence between you heavy but warm. He leans back in his chair, gaze drifting toward the windows. @@.vincent;"I think you'd do well, $name,"@@ he says, almost absently. @@.vincent;"Out there. Somewhere new. You have this certain... presence to you."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Presence?"@@ He flushes instantly. @@.vincent;"Not in a bad way. Just—like—people notice you. In a good way. Like, if anyone could go somewhere totally new and still find their footing, it'd be you."@@ You smile. Crestview Bay will always be a part of you. You know that. But you're starting to believe—maybe it doesn't have to be the whole story. <<elseif $d15vincentfuture is false>>\ <<grantAchievement "D15StayBay">>\ You sit with Vincent's question for a moment, fingers tracing the edge of your notebook, pretending to think harder than you really are. Because the truth? You already know. @@.player;"I think I want to stay in Crestview Bay."@@ Vincent turns his head toward you, eyes wide—not judgmental;, just curious. A little surprised, maybe. @@.vincent;"Really?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. I mean... I used to think I'd leave. That I //should// leave. Everyone says you have to get out of your hometown to find yourself, or whatever. But lately, I don't know."@@ You glance around the quiet library—the warm light, the shelves with their peeling labels, the familiar creak of the back windows that never quite shut right. It's old and worn, yeah, but it's yours. @@.player;"I've got people here,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"People I care about. Luke, Samantha... you."@@ Vincent stiffens slightly at that last word. Not in a bad way—more like someone bracing themselves against a sudden warmth. @@.player;"I don't think I'm done with this place yet,"@@ you say. @@.player;"There's still more for me here. Stuff I want to understand. Things I want to hold onto. And maybe... maybe I don't have to run to figure out who I am."@@ Vincent stares down at his notes for a second before smiling. @@.vincent;"That's kind of amazing,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"I always thought staying meant giving up. Like... settling. But the way you say it—it sounds more like choosing."@@ You glance over. @@.player;"How about you? Would you want to stay?"@@ @@.vincent;"Maybe,"@@ Vincent replies. @@.vincent;"If the right people were here."@@ His eyes flick toward you for the briefest moment. @@.vincent;"I think that'd make all the difference,"@@ he adds quietly. You both go quiet after that. For the first time in a while though, you don't feel stuck. You feel rooted. Maybe home isn't something you grow out of. Maybe it's something you grow //with//. <</if>>\ <<button "To home" "Day 15 - 19">><</button>>

<<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You don't hesitate. Not really. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, offering the chair beside you with a nod. @@.player;"I'd like that."@@ For a second, Vincent just stares at you—like his brain needs a full reboot to process these words. Then his face lights up so suddenly, so completely, that it's blinding. @@.vincent;"R-Really?"@@ he stammers, blinking fast. @@.vincent;"I mean—cool. Great. Yes. I—uh—just let me—"@@ He rushes to set his books down, nearly dropping one in the process and muttering something under his breath about gravity being rude. When he finally settles into the chair beside you, there's this bounce to his movement. He opens his notebook with a soft //thump//, flips to a page already filled with notes in the tiniest and neatest handwriting you've ever seen, and clears his throat. @@.vincent;"Okay,"@@ he says, pushing his glasses up and glancing sideways at you with a smile that keeps sneaking its way back into his face. @@.vincent;"Um. So. History? Physics? Something else? I—I'm good with anything. Honestly. I'll even help with math, and I //hate// math, which I know is ironic because I also love astronomy and that's basically space math, but—"@@ You laugh. Not at him, but //because// of him. Because it's hard not to laugh when someone's this earnestly happy just to sit beside you. Vincent pauses mid-ramble, cheeks flushing as he realizes he's been talking too much. He looks down at his notes like they might rescue him. @@.vincent;"Sorry,"@@ he mumbles. @@.vincent;"I—I do that. Sometimes. A lot. People just aren't usually willing to study with me."@@ You glance over at him. @@.player;"You're good. I don't mind."@@ He peeks up at you. @@.vincent;"Thanks,"@@ he says quietly. <<button "Study with Vincent" "Day 15 - Study (Vincent) 1">><</button>>

<<if $temp4 is 0>>\ You exhale and lean your shoulder against the vending machine beside her, the metal cold through your sleeve. The buzzing fluorescent light above flickers just slightly, like even //it's// bracing for some emotional turbulence. Samantha's still watching you, her usual smirk dialed down to something softer. Her arms are loosely crossed and her hot chips stay forgotten in one hand. You glance over at her. @@.player;"We kind of talked about it at lunch, but..."@@ You trail off. She doesn't interrupt. Doesn't push. Just waits, quiet in a way only your best friend can be when something //actually// matters. You stare ahead at nothing in particular. @@.player;"I'm scared."@@ There. It's out. It sounds stupid, but it's real. @@.player;"I keep trying to act like I'm above it,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Like Zhang doesn't get to me, or like the rumors don't matter. But they do. They //all// do."@@ Samantha nods once. @@.samantha;"Yeah. That tracks."@@ You glance at her, expecting a joke. Some snark. But she's still quiet. So you keep going. <<if $acceptance > 19>>\ @@.player;"I'm not ashamed of what's happening to me. Not anymore. But that doesn't mean it's easy. Every hallway I walk down, every look, every whisper, it all makes me feel like I can't just exist. Like I have to justify it. I didn't choose this $referto, but... I'm not running from it."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I'm tired of pretending I don't care. Every hallway I walk down, every sideways look, every stupid whisper—it's like I'm being erased and put in the spotlight at the same time. I didn't ask for this $referto, I didn't ask for these changes, and now I feel like no matter what I do, someone's waiting for me to slip."@@ <</if>>\ Samantha shifts, gently bumping her shoulder into yours. @@.samantha;"You don't have to explain why this sucks. It just //does//."@@ You nod again. @@.player;"And Zhang? He's not even pretending to hide it. He //wants// to catch me doing something. Anything. And the worst part is that I feel like he will."@@ There's a pause, and then, quieter: @@.player;"I don't know how much longer I can keep pushing."@@ Samantha sighs, muttering, @@.samantha;"That piece of shit."@@ You almost laugh. @@.player;"Which one?"@@ She side-eyes you. @@.samantha;"Pick one."@@ She goes quiet for a moment, then uncrosses her arms and looks over at you fully. @@.samantha;"You don't have to pretend around me. Not about the fear, not about the weirdness, not about the fact that your life's becoming some gender-bender manga."@@ @@.player;"You make it all sound so simple,"@@ you say, huffing. @@.samantha;"Come on, I've got you,"@@ she says, smirking. @@.samantha;"Even when it's messy. //Especially// when it's messy."@@ The knot in your chest loosens just a little. @@.samantha;"I'm still gonna scream at vending machines, though,"@@ she adds, holding up the hot chips like it's a trophy. @@.samantha;"Rage is healing."@@ You finally laugh, feeling a little better. Not because anything's been fixed, but because someone's here with you. <<elseif $temp4 is 1>>\ You lightly nudge your shoulder into Samantha's, letting a smirk tug at the corner of your mouth. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say, tilting your head toward the vending machine, @@.player;"was that an actual exorcism or just your usual snack-based meltdown?"@@ She scoffs and rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"It was //performance art//, thank you very much. A biting critique of capitalism, rage culture, and poorly stocked vending machines."@@ @@.player;"Oh, I see, that was very moving,"@@ you say sarcastically, using Samantha's techniques against her. @@.player;"I think I saw a ghost leave the Pringles."@@ She points at you with the hot chip bag. @@.samantha;"If I don't get sodium and synthetic cheese powder into my bloodstream in the next five minutes, you're getting drop-kicked into the trash can, $name."@@ You both laugh. The joke's not particularly funny, and the both of you are //definitely// laughing louder than the moment deserves, but it's nice anyway. @@.samantha;"You're deflecting, by the way,"@@ Samantha says, still wheezing. @@.player;"Who, me?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yes, you,"@@ she states. @@.samantha;"This is classic //'ha-ha, vending machine bad, don't look at my emotional trauma'// energy."@@ You pretend to consider that. @@.player;"I have no idea what you're talking about. I am a well-adjusted member of society."@@ @@.samantha;"You cried during that old Clancy's commercial with the kid and the chicken nugget shaped like Idaho."@@ @@.player;"Okay, okay, //first of all//, that was a powerful narrative about identity, geography, and the meat industry."@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"The kid named the nugget and fucking saluted before eating it, $name."@@ @@.player;"It was absolute cinema, alright?"@@ She snorts. @@.samantha;"Sure it was."@@ You both fall into an easy silence, the kind that only happens when someone knows you well enough to let the avoidance be part of the process. She doesn't push and you don't explain. But you know you'll get there when you're ready. Samantha will still be here. With hot chips and threats. <<elseif $temp4 is 2>>\ You turn to Samantha, who's still clutching her victorious hot chips like it personally saved her life. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Have you seen Aurora today?"@@ She raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Why? Are you trying to summon a ghost or get hexed?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.samantha;"I haven't seen her,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"And when I //don't// see her, I consider that a blessing. Because every time I //do//, she's in some weird corner of the school looking like she's about to curse a bloodline."@@ You try not to laugh. @@.player;"You're scared of her?"@@ @@.samantha;"I'm //wary// of her,"@@ she corrects, holding up a finger. @@.samantha;"There's a difference, alright? One time in sophomore year, I made the mistake of saying she looked like she was from a period drama. She didn't blink. Just //stared// at me for a full ten seconds and then said, 'Perhaps I've lived many lives.' Like, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?"@@ @@.player;"Run?"@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly! And she wears that pentagram thing around her neck like she's training to summon a demon. I'm not trying to get turned into a scorpion. I respect her from afar."@@ You shake your head, grinning. @@.player;"I'm not asking you to form a coven with her. I just thought maybe you saw her."@@ @@.samantha;"No sightings,"@@ Samantha says, shrugging. @@.samantha;"She tends to show up when she wants to. Or when you least want her to."@@ You sigh. @@.player;"That figures."@@ @@.samantha;"If she //does// show up, maybe warm me so I can duck behind a bush or something."@@ @@.player;"Will do."@@ @@.samantha;"Good,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"I don't trust people who can make eye contact that long without blinking."@@ You laugh and glance back toward the end of the hallway. Still no sign of Aurora. But if she's anywhere... she'll find you when the time's right. She always does. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - Alcove 2">><</button>>

You and Samantha end up squatting against the wall beside the vending machine like two raccoons. She tears open the bag of hot chips with the violent grace only someone like her could pull off. @@.samantha;"Careful,"@@ she warns, @@.samantha;"these are the kind that taste like fire and regret."@@ You take one anyway. It burns immediately. @@.samantha;"So?"@@ she says, licking orange-red powder off her fingertips. @@.samantha;"Is the pain numbing your trauma yet?"@@ @@.player;"A little,"@@ you croak. @@.player;"My mouth might be bleeding, though."@@ @@.samantha;"Perfect,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"That's the spice of healing."@@ For a while, you sit there in that school hallway, passing the bag back and forth, heat building on your tongues and in your lungs. You both don't say much. It's better to just breathe and let the weight of the day settle. @@.samantha;"Y'know,"@@ she finally says, brushing dust off her pants. @@.samantha;"If Aurora turns you into a donkey, I'll still hang out with you."@@ @@.player;"Gee, thanks."@@ @@.samantha;"Don't expect me to kiss you to break the spell, though."@@ You laugh. You really do. It's not a fix or a solution, but it helps. <<if $d16backpack is 0>>\ Eventually, you stand, brushing crumbs off your pants and glancing down the hall where your noble steed awaits. Samantha catches the look, then squints. @@.samantha;"Please tell me you did //not// bring the fucking shopping cart today."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Maverick's parked down the hall. He's guarding my binders with honor."@@ She groans, dragging a hand down her face. @@.samantha;"You //named// the stolen Walmart shopping cart. Of course you did."@@ @@.player;"I'll have you know Maverick chose //me//,"@@ you say solemnly. Samantha shakes her head, but she's smiling. @@.samantha;"And people say //I'm// the menace."@@ <<elseif $d16backpack is 1>>\ Eventually, you stand, brushing crumbs off your pants and picking up the fish tank that housed Dr. Pickles before his untimely demise. Samantha just stares at it like it personally offends her. @@.samantha;"I still can't believe you dragged that thing to school."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It made a statement."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"It said, 'please bully me.'"@@ <<elseif $d16backpack is 2>>\ Eventually, you stand, brushing crumbs off your pants, and reach down to grab the Halloween cauldron by its handle. It gives a hollow little //bonk// as you lift it, the label half-faded on the side in Lily's crooked handwriting. Samantha stares at it for a beat, then snorts. @@.samantha;"$name, you look like you're about to cast //La Calculus Disappearus//."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It's festive."@@ @@.samantha;"It's cursed,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"And honestly? So are you for bringing that."@@ <<elseif $d16backpack is 3>>\ Eventually, you stand, brushing crumbs off your pants, and swing your regular, boring backpack over your shoulder. Samantha watches you do it, completely unimpressed. @@.samantha;"Wow,"@@ she says dryly. @@.samantha;"Real bold of you to show up to //Bring Anything But a Backpack Day// with a backpack. That's some revolutionary school spirit right there."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"I didn't feel like hauling a grill across campus."@@ She rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"That's lame. I hope it haunts your college applications."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Okay, fine, then what did //you// bring?"@@ Samantha grins like she's been waiting for this. Without a word, she reaches behind her and yanks up a plastic cat litter box. It's without the litter, thank God, but definitely not the cleanest-looking object you've ever seen. There's a tangle of notebooks, pens, and a suspiciously dented water bottle crammed inside. You stare at it. @@.samantha;"I cleaned it!"@@ she says, beaming. @@.samantha;"Mostly."@@ @@.player;"And you were seriously judging me?"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"Hey,"@@ she says, holding the litter box. @@.samantha;"Mine has a lid."@@ Touché. @@.player;"Well, I should get going,"@@ you say. Samantha nods sagely. @@.samantha;"Go chase your destiny, o foolish one."@@ She pauses before adding: @@.samantha;"Text me if anything gets weird. Weirder. You know what I mean."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Thanks for the chips. And... everything."@@ She shrugs like it's no big deal. @@.samantha;"We all need a snack break before emotional ruin."@@ And with that, you step back into the hallway. It's time to keep looking. <<button "Go back to the courtyard" "Day 16 - Search">><</button>>

<<set $temp to true>>\ You head toward the far side of the school, where the hallways taper off into a quieter, more forgotten stretch of Pacific Crest's campus. The paint's a little more chipped here, the lights overhead buzz a bit louder, and the occasional mystery draft seeps in through the windows that don't close all the way. The vending machine alcove near the janitor's office is a dead zone. It's half-lit, echoes way too much, and always smells faintly of mop water and sadness. You figure if Aurora were going to hole up somewhere weird and inconvenient, this would be in her top five. But instead of mystical vibes or cryptic warnings, you hear— @@.samantha;"You thieving corporate bastard!"@@ You round the corner just in time to see Samantha, your chaotic best friend, furiously slapping the side of a vending machine like it owes her rent. One of her sneakers is kicked off to the side. Her hands are half-covered in vending grime. A packet of hot chips is dangling from the spiral dispenser like it's hanging on for dear life. @@.samantha;"Seriously?"@@ she growls, punching the 'B3' button again like it personally betrayed her. @@.samantha;"You're gonna take my money, tease me, and //then// ghost me? Classic male behavior."@@ You lean on the wall, watching the drama unfold. She doesn't notice you right away. After all, she's far too focused on attempting a snack heist. She gives the machine one last dramatic slap and then sighs, leaning her forehead against the plexiglass like she just lost a battle she'll never live down. @@.player;"You alright?"@@ you ask, voice amused. She jumps slightly, then whips around. @@.samantha;"Christ, $name! Don't sneak up on people when they're going through a rage ritual!"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"So... you and the vending machine having a rough patch?"@@ @@.samantha;"He took my fucking dollar."@@ You can't help but grin. For the swirling chaos of today, this moment feels strangely... normal. You step forward, cock your head at the machine, and give it a sharp, strategic kick. You hit it right near the base, where the frame is the weakest. There's a low mechanical //clunk// and then the stubborn packet of hot chips gives up and spirals down into the tray. Samantha blinks. Then slowly turns to you with awe, as if she just witnessed a minor miracle. @@.samantha;"When the hell did you become a vending machine whisperer?"@@ she asks. You shrug. @@.player;"I just have a strong foot."@@ She retrieves the hot chips, holds the packet to her chest like a prized artifact, and sighs deeply. @@.samantha;"I take back 30% of the slander I've spoken about you this month."@@ @@.player;"Only 30?"@@ @@.samantha;"Let's not get greedy."@@ She leans against the vending machine, now slightly less hostile toward it, and eyes you for a moment. @@.samantha;"You wanna talk about what's going on?"@@ she asks, her expression softening. @@.samantha;"I could also keep yelling at snack machines until you feel better."@@ <<button "Open up to her" "Day 16 - Alcove 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Keep it light" "Day 16 - Alcove 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask if she's seen Aurora" "Day 16 - Alcove 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $temp4 is 0>>\ You watch Luke bounce the football in his hand, grinning like a dog who just found a stick. You can't help but step onto the field. @@.player;"Sure. Just a few passes."@@ Luke lights up instantly, jogging backward to give you space. @@.luke;"Oh, hell yeah! I //knew// you had spiral potential!"@@ @@.player;"I literally //just// agreed to throw a ball,"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"Don't draft me yet."@@ He points a dramatic finger at you, eyes blazing. @@.luke;"Well, this is how dynasties begin. This is going to be the next New England Patriots dynasty. You? Me? $name? Luke? We're about to revolutionize high school football history."@@ You blink. @@.player;"I don't even know how to play."@@ He ignores that completely. @@.luke;"Doesn't matter. Tom Brady was picked in the sixth round of the draft, you know. Every great duo starts somewhere."@@ @@.player;"Am I Brady or Belichick in this situation?"@@ you ask, squinting at him. @@.luke;"You're Edelman,"@@ he says immediately. @@.luke;"You've got scrappy slot receiver energy."@@ @@.player;"... I don't know what that means, but it feels like an insult."@@ @@.luke;"It's absolutely a compliment."@@ You snort and take your place opposite him. He backs up a little more, dropping into a half-crouch. @@.luke;"Okay, ready?"@@ he calls. <<if $athleticism > 69>>\ You nod, and he sends the ball your way—a clean spiral, fast and tight. You track it easily, step into it, and snag it out of the air with a satisfying //pop//. Luke actually whistles. @@.luke;"Okay, damn. That was good."@@ You spin the ball in your hands with mock smugness. @@.player;"What can I say? Hidden talents."@@ @@.luke;"This changes everything,"@@ Luke says, grinning. @@.luke;"I'm calling the 49ers. We need a new dynasty."@@ <<elseif $athleticism > 59>>\ You nod, and he sends the ball your way—a clean spiral, sharp but you think you can catch it. You catch it. Sort of. It hits your palms, wobbles for a terrifying moment, and you fumble it once before finally clutching it to your chest. @@.luke;"Nice save!"@@ Luke calls. @@.luke;"That was like... 80% skill, 20% divine intervention!"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"I'll take it."@@ He grins. @@.luke;"Hey, I've seen some freshmen drop worse. You're not //completely// cursed."@@ <<else>>\ You nod, and he launches the ball—a tight spiral, clean and fast. You do your best. You really do. But it bounces off your palms, spins dramatically in the air, and lands in the grass with a sad //thud//. Luke jogs over, eyes wide. @@.luke;"Okay, okay! That was... close! You almost caught it!"@@ @@.player;"Pretty sure the ball had beef with me,"@@ you murmur, staring at your hands like they betrayed you. @@.luke;"Don't worry,"@@ Luke replies, grinning. @@.luke;"All great dynasties have humble beginnings."@@ <</if>>\ You throw it back, and it reaches Luke. He fumbles dramatically like he's in a movie, stumbles a step, and falls back onto the grass with a loud, theatrical @@.luke;"AUGH!"@@ You jog over, pretending to be concerned. @@.player;"Oh no. Is the drama fatal?"@@ He holds the ball to his chest, eyes shut. @@.luke;"Tell my mom... I loved her. And also, check my locker for a biology project I forgot to turn in."@@ You roll your eyes and offer him a hand. He takes it and pops up with way too much energy. You toss the ball again, and soon you're falling into a rhythm. Back and forth. Throw. Catch. Run. Breathe. The kind of rhythm that lets your brain pause. Eventually, Luke jogs over and flops next to you in the grass, both of you panting a little, grinning like idiots. @@.luke;"You've got decent hands,"@@ he says between breaths. @@.luke;"In a pinch, I'd trust you as a backup wide receiver."@@ @@.player;"I'll put that on my college applications,"@@ you say. Luke chuckles and lies back, arms spread. @@.luke;"Man, it's nice today."@@ You follow his gaze—sky stretching wide above you, clouds lazy and pale, the world just quiet enough to feel possible again. No rumors. No Zhang. No stares. Just you and your best friend, tossing a football around. <<elseif $temp4 is 1>>\ You step closer, shading your eyes a little against the afternoon sun. @@.player;"Hey, this is a random question, but have you seen Aurora today?"@@ Luke tilts his head, frowning slightly. @@.luke;"Aurora?"@@ he echoes, like he's trying to remember if that's the name of a student or maybe an ancient wizard from a fantasy novel. @@.player;"The girl who wears black all the time,"@@ you say, trying to jog his memory. @@.player;"Looks like she haunts abandoned bookstores for fun."@@ @@.luke;"Ohhh, //her//."@@ Luke nods, then squints. @@.luke;"Yeah, no. I haven't seen her."@@ You sigh. @@.luke;"She kinda shows up and disappears, right?"@@ he continues, casually spinning the football in his hands. @@.luke;"Like one of those NPCs in a video game. You blink and she's just standing behind you with a riddle or something."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"That sounds about right for her."@@ He wipes sweat off his brow with the edge of his sleeve. @@.luke;"Why? She not returning your dark prophecies or something?"@@ You chuckle, but it's tired. @@.player;"I was just hoping she might have some... clarity. After today."@@ Luke's grin fades a bit. He doesn't ask more, just nods. @@.luke;"Sorry, dude. I'll keep an eye out, but I haven't seen her. But hey, if she's gonna show up, it'll probably be in some dramatic-ass place. Like you'll see her under the bleachers, surrounded by dead birds."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, laughing despite yourself. @@.player;"I'll check the dead bird corner next."@@ Luke gives you a salute. @@.luke;"If she shows up and you disappear into an alternative realm or whatever, text me first."@@ @@.player;"I'll keep that in mind."@@ <<elseif $temp4 is 2>>\ @@.player;"I'll just watch,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"Cool,"@@ Luke says, jogging backward a few steps with a goofy grin on his face. @@.luke;"Lemme know if I look dramatic enough for a sports movie montage."@@ You climb up the rusted metal bleachers, the steps creaking slightly under your weight, and plop down near the top row. The sun's warm on your face and the field stretches out in front of you. You look at Luke. Really look. His shirt's clinging to him from sweat and his cheeks are a little red from running drills in the afternoon heat. He takes a few deep breaths— And with that, he's back at it. He launches into running routes, tossing the ball up into the air with a spiral, pivoting on a dime, and then sprinting back to the starting point. It's messy and loose, but there's something kind of graceful about it. You lean your elbows on your knees and just watch. No one's looking at you. No one's whispering. No one's asking questions you're not ready to answer. It's just Luke, being Luke, and the quiet rhythm of cleats thudding against turf. Every now and then he glances back to check if you're still there. You are. You don't say much, but you don't really //have// to. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - Field 2">><</button>>

You linger for a few more moments, sitting on the edge of the field while Luke stretches his arms out like he's trying to realign his spine through sheer force of will. The familiar weight creeps back in—the reminder of why you came out here in the first place. You stand up, brushing grass off your pants. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I should get going. I still need to find Aurora before she disappears into the mist."@@ Luke looks at you, concern evident in his expression. @@.luke;"Yeah, you gonna be okay?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Eventually."@@ He doesn't say anything for a second. Just gives you a long, steady look. Then he smiles. @@.luke;"Alright, $name. Just so you know... I'll be here. If you need me."@@ You pause. @@.player;"Thanks, Luke."@@ He waves you off, grabbing the football again. @@.luke;"Go find your witch. I'll hold down the turf."@@ You laugh, turning to head back toward the school. Behind you, you hear the faint //thunk// of a football being caught again. The world's still spinning, even if everything feels like it's about to change. <<button "Go back to the courtyard" "Day 16 - Search">><</button>>

<<set $temp2 to true>>\ You cut across the courtyard, dodge a rogue Homecoming week streamer tangled in a bush, and head toward the edge of the football field. It's quieter out here—far enough from the school that the usual sounds of gossip and hallway drama are replaced by the faint chirp of birds and the rhythmic squeak of cleats against the ground. You don't expect to see anyone. Aurora doesn't exactly give off varsity football energy. But still, you figure it wouldn't hurt to check. But then you spot him. Luke is out on the field all alone. Helmet on the ground, shoulder pads off, and sweat-darkened T-shirt clinging to his back. He's running routes, tossing the ball to himself, catching it with practiced ease, then looping around and doing it all again. You stop just at the edge of the field, near the low metal bleachers. He notices you after a second and jogs over, brushing damp hair from his forehead. @@.luke;"Yo!"@@ he calls, breathless but grinning. @@.luke;"Didn't think I'd see you out here. Are you lost or just here to vibe?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Bit of both, I suppose."@@ @@.luke;"Of course,"@@ Luke says, laughing. You notice that he's got turf on his socks and grass on his elbows. He looks down at the football in his hands for a few beats before lifting it up. @@.luke;"Wanna toss?"@@ He doesn't press. He wouldn't. He just waits with a wide smile plastered on his face. But you //were// here for something else—''someone'' else. Still, maybe it's worth stopping for a minute and asking if he's seen anything. <<button "Join him for a few passes" "Day 16 - Field 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask if he's seen Aurora" "Day 16 - Field 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Just sit on the bleachers and watch" "Day 16 - Field 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $temp4 is 0>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You lean back in the chair, folding your arm and letting out an exaggerated sigh. @@.player;"Well, you know how it is,"@@ you say casually. @@.player;"One minute, you're a quiet student just trying to make it through calc, and the next you're the star of the school's very own soap opera."@@ Vincent gives you a look. You press on. @@.player;"I think next week I might gain telekinesis. Or maybe I'll get sacrificed under the bleachers. It's a fifty-fifty, to be honest."@@ He doesn't laugh. Instead, he tilts his head, blinking slowly, like he's trying to process how he should feel about this. @@.vincent;"You're joking,"@@ he says. @@.player;"For the most part,"@@ you shrug. He pauses. Then: @@.vincent;"But you //did// get called to the principal's office today. And there //are// people saying some really messed up stuff. So, like... I know I'm not the president of the Emotional Vulnerability Club or anything, but don't lie. You were just like... deflecting."@@ Vincent sighs. @@.vincent;"I just—look, I'm not great at people. But I do know when someone's using humor as a coping mechanism. I read about it."@@ There's a pause as you don't know how to respond. Vincent fidgets with his sleeve. @@.vincent;"You don't have to explain everything to me. I just don't want you to act like you're fine if you're... y'know. Not."@@ It's not a confrontation or a lecture. It's just... sincere. And that's somehow harder to deal with. <<elseif $temp4 is 1>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You exhale slowly, staring out the big window for a moment before turning back to Vincent. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, voice lower than you expected. @@.player;"I'm... not really okay."@@ Vincent blinks, startled. He closes his book fully now, resting it in his lap like it's less important than you. @@.vincent;"What happened?"@@ You glance around instinctively—no one's nearby, no one listening. Just dusty books, golden sunlight, and Vincent. His brow furrowed and eyes wide behind those thick glasses. He looks nervous, like he's afraid for you. You lean back against the chair, arms crossed, heart heavier than you'd like. @@.player;"I got called into the principal's office today,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Mr. Zhang... he basically said I'm being watched now. That the way I look, the way people talk about me—it's a distraction. A disruption."@@ Vincent's brows knit. @@.player;"He didn't say it outright, but he made things pretty clear,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Basically, if I keep showing up like this—if I slip up even once—he'll escalate it. He wants me quiet. Normal. Whatever the hell that means."@@ There's a pause. You didn't mean to say this much. Not really. It just all kind of spilled out. Vincent fidgets with the corner of his sleeve. @@.vincent;"That's... really messed up."@@ You don't say anything. He swallows, then looks up at you again. @@.vincent;"I mean, it makes sense. Why people are talking. I mean—not that they //should//, mind you, but—just..."@@ He trails off, then starts again, voice steadier. @@.vincent;"I'm sorry. That you're going through this."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Vincent."@@ Vincent's quiet for a second longer. Then, quietly: @@.vincent;"You don't look wrong, you know. You just look like... you."@@ That one sentence lands heavier than anything. Maybe because it's not dramatic or profound. It's just honest. You glance at him. He's looking down again, red in the ears. Then he adds, softer. @@.vincent;"If you ever need, like, a hiding space? Or a Charlemagne fact to scare someone away? I'm around."@@ You laugh—a real one, small but sharp. Maybe things are spiraling. Maybe Zhang's still breathing down your neck. But for now, in this quiet corner of the library, someone's got your back. And that helps a lot. <<elseif $temp4 is 2>>\ You shift in your seat, suddenly very aware of how close the walls feel back here. The chair creaks again as you lean forward, arms resting on your knees. @@.player;"Uh, so, what're you reading?"@@ you mumble, rubbing the back of your neck. Vincent blinks. There's a beat before he answers. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says, lifting the book a little. @@.vincent;"Just... you know. Light reading. Astrophysics, the usual."@@ <<if $study > 89>>\ You nod. <<else>>\ You raise an eyebrow. <</if>>\ @@.vincent;"It was this or re-reading something for the millionth time, and I decided to branch out,"@@ he adds quickly. @@.vincent;"Plus this one's got footnotes!"@@ You can't help but chuckle under your breath at his enthusiasm. He opens his book again, and you watch his eyes light up the way they always do when he gets the green light to start rambling. @@.vincent;"So, okay, get this—Hawking has this whole thing about imaginary time, right? Like time that doesn't //exist// in a measurable way but still //influences// the structure of reality. It's kind of like mood lighting for the universe."@@ <<if $study > 89>>\ You nod, fascinated by his words. <<else>>\ You don't really follow, but you nod anyway. <</if>>\ Vincent keeps talking animatedly, not demanding anything of you except maybe a laugh or a nod. And for now, that's enough. <<elseif $temp4 is 3>>\ You glance at Vincent, his wide eyes blinking behind those slightly crooked glasses, and decide not to dodge it this time. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say. @@.player;"If you've been hearing stuff... what exactly have you heard?"@@ He freezes, immediately flustered. @@.vincent;"Oh, uh—I mean, just—uh—stuff! General... hallway stuff. You know how it is, right?"@@ You give him a look. He shrinks slightly. @@.vincent;"Okay, okay, but just remember I'm not //spreading// anything. I'm just, uh... absorbing it. Like a sponge. A very, very awkward sponge who doesn't want to be involved."@@ @@.player;"Vincent."@@ @@.vincent;"Fine,"@@ he says, pressing his palms to his knees. @@.vincent;"Um... so, someone said you got pulled out of class because the principal found out you were... like, pretending to be trans? Which, uh, //sucks//, and is also clearly //not// how anything works."@@ You nod slowly. He keeps going, albeit reluctantly. @@.vincent;"There's this girl in my French class and she said she overheard a TA say the school's putting you on a 'watch list.' It sounds fake but also kind of terrifying."@@ It tracks, unfortunately. Vincent fidgets. @@.vincent;"And then today someone claimed you were gonna be //expelled// for using the girls' bathroom, which is just—insane. Like, you're just existing."@@ @@.vincent;"I //know//,"@@ he says quickly. @@.vincent;"It's all nonsense. But it's spreading."@@ He looks at you then, really looks, and his nervous energy drops for a moment. @@.vincent;"I'm sorry people are being like this. You didn't do anything wrong. Just... people don't like not understanding something. So they make up stories until it fits what they want."@@ You let that hang in the air. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - Library 2">><</button>>

You glance over at Vincent, who's already gone back to nervously peeling the edge of a sticker on his reusable water bottle. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, and he looks up, startled again. @@.player;"Thanks for helping out, Vincent. Really."@@ He opens his mouth, maybe to deflect, maybe to say something impossibly nerdy about friendship and loyalty, but he just nods again. @@.vincent;"Of course, $name. Anytime."@@ You give him a small smile before standing up. He watches you go, but doesn't try to follow. And that's okay. You step out into the hall, back into the late afternoon light filtering through the windows. The library door swings shut behind you with a soft //click//. There's still no sign of Aurora. But if she's anywhere, it's certainly not in the library. You head toward the courtyard. It's time to keep looking. <<button "Go back to the courtyard" "Day 16 - Search">><</button>>

<<set $temp1 to true>>\ <<if $vincentRelo > 19>>\ You head toward the library. The building's quieter than usual—low afternoon sunlight filters through the tall windows, and the air carries that specific, ancient paper smell that only school libraries seem to preserve. You pass the front desk. The school librarian doesn't even look up from her crossword puzzle. You don't go to the main tables. Instead, you take the path past the biographies, take a left at the broken printer with the big "Out of Order" sign, and head toward the back corner—the one with the old armchair, the crooked reading lamp, and the huge window that turns golden right before sunset. It's empty. Almost. You slow your steps when you spot Vincent already there, hunched over a copy of //A Brief History of Time//, legs pulled up on the seat like he's afraid someone might try to talk to him. The horror. He looks up as you approach and immediately straightens—like you've caught him doing something illegal or worse, deeply embarrassing. @@.vincent;"Oh! Uh—hey, $name!"@@ he says too fast. @@.vincent;"Didn't see you. I mean—I //did// see you, eventually, just not at first, because the sun hit your—anyway, hi."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Hey. I was just looking for someone."@@ Vincent nods quickly, then closes his book—not with a snap, but with a slow, gentle apology to the pages. He shifts in his seat, visibly trying not to fidget. @@.vincent;"You looking for Aurora?"@@ he asks. You pause. @@.player;"Yeah, I was, actually. How'd you know?"@@ He gestures vaguely toward the seat next to him. @@.vincent;"She's... kind of the only person who ever sits back here beside me. When she's not, like, vanishing into fog or turning up in a locked room."@@ You smirk. That sounds like Aurora. Then Vincent squints, suddenly more serious. @@.vincent;"Wait. Is this about... all the stuff going on?"@@ @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask, hesitating. Vincent winces, like he didn't mean to say it out loud. @@.vincent;"Just, um... people are //talking//. A lot. And if even I'm hearing about it—and I usually get left out of all things social unless someone needs help with their history test—it's like, a lot-lot."@@ You sit down beside him, the chair creaking faintly. He glances at you, uncertain. @@.vincent;"Are you okay? Like... actually?"@@ You're not sure how to answer that. <<button "Deflect with humor" "Day 16 - Library 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Be honest with Vincent" "Day 16 - Library 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Get awkward and change the subject" "Day 16 - Library 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask him directly if he's heard anything specific" "Day 16 - Library 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 3>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ You step into the library, letting the heavy door swing shut behind you with a soft //thud//. The place is quieter than usual. No soft chatter from the front tables or shuffling from study groups. There's just the low hum of the prehistoric ventilation system and the faint scent of paper, dust, and whatever weird tea the librarian always seems to be brewing behind the desk. You head toward the back corner. Hidden away from the oversized encyclopedias and an old globe that still has the USSR on it. It's a good place to disappear. But someone's already there. Vincent. Hunched over a thick book, glasses sliding slightly down his nose, eyes scanning the page like he's trying to decode the secrets of the universe. Which, knowing Vincent, he probably is. You slow down, unsure whether to keep going. You haven't exactly been... kind to him lately. A few sarcastic remarks and a couple of moments where you definitely brushed him off. Definitely enough for him to notice. He looks up when he hears your footsteps. His eyes meet yours for half a second. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says flatly. @@.vincent;"Hey."@@ He doesn't smile. @@.player;"You, uh... seen Aurora around?"@@ you ask, hovering awkwardly. Vincent blinks, then returns his gaze to his book. @@.vincent;"Nope."@@ Silence. You linger a beat longer. He flips a page. @@.player;"She usually hangs out around here, right?@@ He shrugs without looking up. @@.player;"Sometimes. Not today, though."@@ You wait but he offers nothing. No follow-up. No concern. No nervous ramble. No offer to help. Just the rustle of pages and the sound of him underlining something with a mechanical pencil. You're just a shadow in his periphery now—background noise. He doesn't tell you to leave, sure, but he certainly doesn't invite you to stay either. Eventually, the silence gets too heavy. You turn and walk away. Aurora's not here, but even if she was, Vincent's not helping you find her. Not after how you treated him. <<button "Go back to the courtyard" "Day 16 - Search">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $temp is true and $temp1 is true and $temp2 is true and $temp3 is true>>\ You wander the school grounds for what feels like ''forever''—vending machine alcove, library, football field, and theater stairwell. One by one, the leads dry up. No cloaked silhouettes. No poetic riddles whispered from shadowy corners. Just familiar faces. No Aurora. Eventually, you make your way back to the main courtyard, the late afternoon light casting golden streaks across the pavement. The breeze picks up, rustling the Homecoming week decorations that cling desperately to their posts—faded paper streamers and half-deflated balloons. You stand there for a moment, right near the path leading to the front gate. Students are mostly gone now. What little noise remains is soft and scattered: a slamming locker, a muffled laugh, a bird hopping along the edge of the bench. You look around one last time, just to be safe. Still no Aurora. It's just you and the weight of everything you've been carrying. You exhale slowly, hands deep in your pockets, and start walking toward the gate. It's time to go home. <<button "Go home" "Day 16 - 12">><</button>> <<else>>\ You wonder where you should search for Aurora. <<if $temp is false>>\ <<button "Search the vending machine alcove" "Day 16 - Alcove">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp1 is false>>\ <<button "Search the library's back corner" "Day 16 - Library">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp2 is false>>\ <<button "The edge of the football field" "Day 16 - Field">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp3 is false>>\ <<button "The abandoned theater stairwell" "Day 16 - Stairwell">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

<<if $jordanRelo > 29 or $d14jordanchoice1 isnot undefined>>\ <<if $temp4 is 0>>\ You hesitate before speaking. @@.player;"I got called into the office today,"@@ you say quietly. That gets his attention. Jordan looks straight at you, eyes sharp. @@.jordan;"Zhang?"@@ You nod. He closes the script and sets it beside him deliberately. His focus shifts entirely to you now—shoulders squared, the practiced poise of a quarterback and stage actor both gone still. @@.jordan;"What happened?"@@ he asks. There's no sarcasm or edge in his voice. He just listens. @@.player;"He said I'm being watched,"@@ you begin. @@.player;"That teachers are going to be reporting on me. My behavior, my... 'presentation.' Said I'm making people uncomfortable just by existing."@@ Jordan's jaw tightens. You keep going. @@.player;"He didn't //say// I've broken any rules, because I haven't. But he made it clear that one slip, one incident, and he'll escalate it. File a report. Take it to the district. Kick me out if he can."@@ For a second, Jordan doesn't say anything. Then he mutters, almost under his breath, @@.jordan;"Fucking hell."@@ He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and rubs a hand over his face. When he looks back at you, his expression's harder. It's not //at// you though. It's //for// you. @@.jordan;"That's not discipline,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"That's intimidation."@@ He looks away for a beat, then right back. @@.jordan;"You tell anyone else?"@@ @@.player;"Luke and Samantha. Jessica kind of knows something's going on, because of course she does. Aurora probably knew before it even happened."@@ Jordan snorts. @@.jordan;"Yeah. Sounds about right for Aurora."@@ There's a silence—but it's not awkward. It's thoughtful. @@.jordan;"You shouldn't have to deal with this,"@@ he says quietly. @@.jordan;"You didn't ask for it."@@ @@.player;"I really didn't ask to become a school-wide mystery, trust me."@@ That earns the faintest curve of a smile from him. But it fades fast. He's still thinking. @@.jordan;"If he comes after you again, let me know,"@@ Jordan states firmly. @@.jordan;"I mean it."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What would you do? Tackle him through the office wall?"@@ He shrugs. @@.jordan;"I don't have to tackle him. I'm the starting quarterback—this school treats the football team like royalty. Zhang's not gonna pick a fight with someone who brings in Friday night ticket sales."@@ He pauses, then adds, @@.jordan;"If I speak up, it won't be easy for him to ignore. And I will, if I have to."@@ You stare at him but Jordan doesn't back down. @@.jordan;"Look, $name, you're not alone in this,"@@ he adds, eyes back on yours. @@.jordan;"You never were."@@ The light from the window catches the edge of his face, soft and gold. His voice is steady, but you can tell this cost him something to say. Vulnerability, even now, isn't easy for him. But he truly means it. And somehow, just for a moment, that makes it easier to breathe. <<elseif $temp4 is 1>>\ You shift your weight against the railing, the old metal cool beneath your palm. Jordan's watching you now—script set aside, full and focused in that quiet, intense way of his. You take a breath. @@.player;"Have you heard any of it?"@@ He tilts his head slightly. @@.jordan;"The rumors?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you nod. @@.player;"I figured if //you've// heard them, then it's probably worse than I thought."@@ He exhales through his nose. @@.jordan;"I've heard some. Locker room's been buzzing since lunch. And some of the theater kids, too—people talk more when they think you're not listening."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"And what are they saying?"@@ Jordan's jaw tightens for a second. He hesitates—not because he's unsure, but because he's debating how much to //protect// you from. @@.jordan;"Most of it's just... garbage,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Stupid shit. People trying to be funny, or edgy, or maybe both. One guy said you're going 'undercover' as a girl to ruin the football team's reputation."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"That's the plan. Spy mission. Expose the deep dark scandal of Pacific Crest High."@@ That gets a short huff of a laugh from him—but it's brief. @@.jordan;"Others are asking if you're trans,"@@ he continues, his tone measured. @@.jordan;"Or pretending. or lying about something. A couple of people are saying you're unstable. That something's wrong with you."@@ Your stomach turns, but you don't interrupt. Jordan watches your face, and when you don't say anything, he adds quietly, @@.jordan;"None of that matters to me, by the way."@@ You glance at him. @@.jordan;"I mean it,"@@ he states. @@.jordan;"Let them talk. They're just trying to make sense of something they don't understand. It doesn't make them right. And it //definitely// doesn't mean they get to define who you are."@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"Still sucks."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, it does,"@@ he responds, leaning back. @@.jordan;"I've corrected people. When I could. When it wouldn't blow things up worse. I figured you've got enough fires to put out right now."@@ That hits a little harder than you expect. You look at him—really look—and for a second it's easy to forget that this is the guy who got mad at you at the mall. Now he's here. Watching your back and correcting people while not expecting anything in return. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say. Jordan shrugs, like it's not a big deal. But the slight flush in his ears says otherwise. The dust swirls quietly in the stairwell and the silence, for once, feels like safety. <<elseif $temp4 is 2>>\ You hover on the edge of saying something heavier. The words about Zhang, the rumors, the weight of it all—they sit right there in your throat, pressing, wanting to escape. But instead, you look at the crumpled script pages beside Jordan. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say, nudging your chin toward them. @@.player;"Still gunning for Romeo, huh?"@@ Jordan exhales, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. @@.jordan;"Obviously."@@ @@.player;"Guess you're really trying to be a teenage heartthrob."@@ Jordan chuckles as he leans back against the railing, expression easing. @@.jordan;"Mr. Bennet said I had 'raw presence.' I think that's code for 'you didn't completely butcher the balcony scene.'"@@ You laugh. @@.player;"That's high praise coming from him."@@ Jordan shakes his head with a small grin. @@.jordan;"What about you? Considering Juliet?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Maybe I could. I like the idea of terrifying the PTA."@@ That gets a real laugh out of him—short, low, and genuine. He lets it hang in the air for a moment, before glancing at you again, a little more serious now. @@.jordan;"You don't have to keep it casual, you know,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Not with me. Not anymore."@@ You glance at him, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. @@.jordan;"I get it,"@@ he continues. @@.jordan;"You've got, like... a thousand people watching your every move right now. You don't owe me your trauma dump or whatever—but if you need to talk about it? You can."@@ You don't say anything for a second. Just sit there in the dim stairwell, surrounded by peeling paint and dusty sunlight and a guy who's still kind of hard to read, but not as hard as he used to be. @@.player;"I appreciate that,"@@ you say quietly. Jordan shrugs like it's nothing. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says, soft and sure. Then, he flips a page of his script and clears his throat. @@.jordan;"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find the emotional core of a 14-year-old dumb enough to take dating advice from a priest."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Let me know when you get there."@@ He shoots you a look. @@.jordan;"Rude."@@ You feel lighter. Just a little. <<elseif $temp4 is 3>>\ You glance around the dim stairwell—there are dust motes floating in the sunlight and old posters peeling from the walls like forgotten ghosts. It smells like wood polish and history and a little bit like someone spilled Gladiraid in here once and never cleaned it up. Then you look at Jordan, still sitting next to you, idly folding the corner of his script. His brow's furrowed like he's stuck between lines—on the page or in his head, you're not sure. You hesitate before asking: @@.player;"Why here?"@@ He looks at you, puzzled. @@.jordan;"What?"@@ @@.player;"The stairwell. I mean... it's dusty. Abandoned. Probably cursed. Why come here?"@@ <<if $jordanRelo > 49>>\ Jordan's face shifts, a slight flicker appearing behind the eyes. His fingers are still on the script corner. @@.jordan;"It's quiet."@@ You wait, and after a beat, he sighs, leaning back against the rail with a dull thump. @@.jordan;"It's because no one looks for me here."@@ His voice isn't bitter. It's just tired. @@.jordan;"At home, it's football,"@@ he states. @@.jordan;"''Always.'' My dad's a coach. My brother plays D1. My mom literally organizes half our booster events. If I'm not training, they think I'm slacking. If I'm not winning, I'm wasting time."@@ You nod slowly. He rubs the back of his neck. @@.jordan;"Theater? It's a joke to them. A distraction. Something I 'do for fun.'"@@ He air quotes it, mouth tight. @@.jordan;"They don't //get// it. They don't //want// to get it. I swear, my dad once asked me if moving on stage would be good cardio."@@ You snort. Jordan smiles, just a little. But it fades quickly. @@.jordan;"So I come here. Because no one checks. No coaches. No teammates. No parents. No... problems. Just a stairwell with decent acoustics and bad lighting but ton of space."@@ You watch him, and for a moment, he doesn't look like the star quarterback or the brooding scene partner or the guy who always nails his lines. He just looks like someone who's tired of being told who to be. @@.jordan;"I don't mind being expected to show up,"@@ he says after a beat. @@.jordan;"I can handle being expected to perform. I just wish someone, anyone, ever asked what I actually care about. Why I choose to be here."@@ A silence follows. It's heavy, but not in the awkward way. It's honest. Shared. You nod. @@.player;"I get that."@@ Jordan looks over at you, something a little softer in his eyes now. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I know you do."@@ And somehow, in that quiet stairwell of cracked steps and shared pressure, you both understand each other just a little more. No spotlight. No whistle. Just space. <<else>>\ Jordan gives a small shrug, eyes dropping back to the page. @@.jordan;"I dunno. It's quiet."@@ You wait for him to say more but he doesn't. He instead just shifts a little, leaning back against the railing, thumb smoothing a crease in the corner of his script. You nod slowly, settling back against the wall. @@.player;"That's fair."@@ The two of you sit there in the stillness, not really talking, not really needing to. Just existing in the same slightly dusty, weirdly peaceful space. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - Stairwell 2">><</button>> <<elseif $jordanRelo > 14>>\ <<if $temp4 is 0>>\ You shift on the step, the weight of the day settling heavier than it should. Jordan's flipping through the script like nothing's wrong, like you're not standing here with something clawing its way up your throat. Still, you speak. @@.player;"I got called into the principal's office today."@@ He doesn't look up. Just pauses with his thumb pressed against the page edge. @@.jordan;"Zhang?"@@ he asks, voice flat. You nod. @@.player;"That's him."@@ He finally glances at you, just for a second. He's not surprised. Not particularly concerned. Just... acknowledging. @@.jordan;"And?"@@ You take a breath. @@.player;"He said I'm under observation now. That I'm 'causing disruption.' Teachers are going to be reporting on me—how I act, how I dress, what people are saying. He didn't call it a threat, but it was."@@ Jordan looks back at his script. @@.jordan;"Sounds like Zhang."@@ @@.player;"That's it?"@@ He shrugs. @@.jordan;"He's a hardass. You're not the first person he's singled out."@@ You wait for something else—a question, maybe, or even the smallest hint of sympathy. It doesn't come. @@.player;"He said if I mess up, he'll escalate it to the district,"@@ you add. @@.player;"Try to push me out."@@ Jordan flips a page, slow and deliberate. @@.jordan;"Then I'd be careful if I were you."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Geez. Thanks."@@ He looks at you again, finally meeting your eyes—but it's distant. @@.jordan;"I'm not trying to be a dick. I'm just telling you how it is."@@ @@.player;"Yeah. Got it."@@ Jordan exhales, like the conversation is already over. @@.jordan;"Look. It sucks. But Zhang plays power games. He always has and he always will. You're just the new spotlight. That'll change eventually."@@ And with that, he turns back to his script, like he's already written you out of the scene. You stand there for another second before stepping back, the echo of your own footsteps louder than anything he said. <<elseif $temp4 is 1>>\ You stay standing, watching Jordan flip lazily through his script. He hasn't acknowledged you much, like your presence is ambient noise at best. So you ask, flatly, @@.player;"Have you heard the rumors?"@@ He doesn't look up. @@.jordan;"Tough to miss,"@@ he says, voice low and bored. @@.jordan;"They're everywhere."@@ You nod once. @@.player;"Right."@@ He finally turns a page. @@.jordan;"Locker rooms, lunch tables, group chats. Take your pick."@@ There's no judgment in his tone—but no sympathy either. Just observation, delivered with an emotional distance. @@.jordan;"People are saying all kind of things,"@@ he adds. @@.jordan;"That you're faking something. That you're trying to prove a point. That you're on something. No one agrees, but that doesn't stop them."@@ @@.player;"And what do //you// think?"@@ you ask, watching him carefully. Jordan shrugs. @@.jordan;"Doesn't matter what I think. Doesn't stop them talking."@@ He finally glances at you again, just for a second. @@.jordan;"If you're expecting me to defend you or something, you're asking the wrong guy."@@ You don't say anything and Jordan doesn't fill the silence. Eventually, he goes back to reading, flipping another page. @@.jordan;"Anyway,"@@ he mutters, @@.jordan;"good luck with all that."@@ He speaks like that's the end of the conversation. And for him, it probably is. <<elseif $temp4 is 2>>\ You stand there a little longer, the silence hanging heavy between the two of you. The air in the stairwell feels like it's waiting for something—an explanation, maybe a confrontation—but you're too tired for either. So you try to pivot. @@.player;"Still grinding for Romeo?"@@ you ask, nodding toward the crumpled pages at Jordan's side. Jordan doesn't even bother to look up. @@.jordan;"Obviously."@@ You wait, hoping he might add something else. Instead, he just stares at the page like it personally offended him. You try again. @@.player;"You think Bennet's really gonna give it to you?"@@ Jordan finally glances up at you. @@.jordan;"I didn't ask,"@@ he states, tone clipped. You blink. @@.player;"Oh."@@ @@.jordan;"Either I get it or I don't,"@@ he says, shrugging. @@.jordan;"It's not a group project. He's gonna cast whoever fits."@@ @@.player;"That's fair,"@@ you say. Silence follows. He doesn't ask what role //you're// going for. Just goes back to his lines like you're background noise. You stand there for a few more seconds, then realize he's not going to say anything else. Not unless you push. And it's clear he doesn't want you to right now. So you let it go. <<elseif $temp4 is 3>>\ You glance around the dim stairwell, the dusty light catching on old paint and peeling posters. Jordan hasn't said much since you walked in. He hasn't invited you to stay but hasn't told you to leave either. You shift your weight and ask, @@.player;"So... why do you come here anyway?"@@ Jordan doesn't look up from his script. There's a pause. Long enough that you start to think he's going to ignore your question entirely. Then, without looking at you, he mutters, @@.jordan;"That's none of your business."@@ The words hit like a door being shut in your face—no anger, just indifference. You open your mouth, maybe to make a joke, but he doesn't follow up. Doesn't elaborate. Just turns another page with a slow flick and keeps reading like you're not even there anymore. Conversation over. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - Stairwell 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<if $temp4 is 0>>\ You stay frozen for a moment on the bottom step, one hand still resting on the rail. Jordan's gaze is flat as he waits for an answer you can't quite find. He doesn't look mad—just //done//. Like you walked into a room already occupied and brought nothing useful with you. You clear your throat. @@.player;"Sorry,"@@ you say, voice quiet. @@.player;"I didn't mean to bother you."@@ You take a step back down the stairs. @@.player;"I was just... looking for someone else. I'll get out of your way."@@ Jordan doesn't stop you. He just doesn't say anything for a beat before glancing down at his script. He mutters, @@.jordan;"Yeah. Probably a good idea."@@ You nod, even though he isn't looking, and quietly pull the door shut behind you. The hallway outside feels colder than before. Quieter. Aurora's not here and you still don't know where the hell she is. <<elseif $temp4 is 1>>\ You stay at the bottom of the stairs, your voice steady but careful. @@.player;"I'm not here to bother you. I was just looking for Aurora."@@ Jordan lifts an eyebrow, but doesn't move from his seat. His legs stretch out over two steps like she owns them. @@.jordan;"She's not here."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I figured,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"I just thought this might be one of her spots."@@ He looks at you for a long moment—expression not friendly. It's not hostile, either. Just... distant. @@.jordan;"Look, $name, this isn't a place to go looking for people,"@@ he says finally. @@.jordan;"Most people come here to //not// be found."@@ You shift on your feet, unsure if he's annoyed or just being blunt. Jordan sighs, running a hand through his hair like this whole conversation is dragging more energy out of him than it's worth. @@.jordan;"I'm not trying to be a dick. But if you're chasing rumors or drama, go somewhere else."@@ @@.player;"I'm not."@@ @@.jordan;"Then go be 'not' somewhere that isn't here."@@ His words are firm. It's a wall. Not the type that's slammed in your face but the type that's just... set down between you. Clear and cold. You hesitate, then nod once. @@.player;"Got it."@@ You turn and let the door close behind you, the stairwell dimming back into quiet. <<elseif $temp4 is 2>>\ You glance sideways at him, testing the waters. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"I'm guessing you've heard the rumors too."@@ Jordan doesn't look up from the script. He turns a page like you just asked him what time lunch starts. You wait for more. It doesn't come. After a second, you press. @@.player;"And... you don't care?"@@ He finally looks over at you, eyes unreadable. @@.jordan;"Should I?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"I mean, they're saying a lot. About me. About what I am. What I'm not. Some of it's pretty bad."@@ @@.jordan;"High school's full of bored people with loud mouths,"@@ he says, shrugging. @@.jordan;"You think I have time to care about hallway gossip? I've got too much coming up."@@ You frown. @@.player;"So you haven't... thought about it at all?"@@ He gives you a look. Not cruel, but definitely ''done''. @@.jordan;"$name. You either let people talk, or you spend your life trying to control what they say. Guess which one gets you through the day faster."@@ You feel your stomach tighten, but you say nothing. Jordan goes back to his script like the conversation never happened. A few seconds pass before he adds, almost as an afterthought, @@.jordan;"Close the door on your way out. Draft's annoying."@@ And just like that, you're dismissed. <<elseif $temp4 is 3>>\ You hesitate at the bottom of the stairs, then slowly step up one, then another, trying not to make too much noise. Jordan doesn't look up again, just picks at a corner of one of his script pages. You try anyway. @@.player;"I didn't know you came here,"@@ you say, trying to sound casual. @@.player;"Theater stairwell's kind of a weird spot for a quarterback."@@ Jordan doesn't laugh. He doesn't even smirk. Just mutters, @@.jordan;"Yeah, well. Weird spots for weird times."@@ You take another step. @@.player;"Do you come here a lot? Like, to run lines, or just... get away?"@@ He finally looks at you, and there's no sharpness in his gaze. But it's cold. Blank. A wall so well-rehearsed it might as well be made of brick. @@.jordan;"I come here,"@@ he says, flatly, @@.jordan;"to be alone."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Right. I just thought—"@@ @@.jordan;"You didn't think,"@@ he cuts in, standing slowly and brushing dust off his varsity jacket. @@.jordan;"Or maybe you did, but either way, it's not your space."@@ You pause. @@.player;"I wasn't trying to bother you. I just figured we could—"@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he interrupts again, voice sharper now. @@.jordan;"But I didn't ask for that. And I don't owe you anything either."@@ The stairwell feels colder now. Jordan turns his back and sits down again, adjusting his notes like you're already gone. You stay for one more breath. Maybe even two. Then you nod and step back down the stairs. You leave the door open just a crack behind you. But Jordan doesn't follow. <</if>>\ <<button "Go back to the courtyard" "Day 16 - Search">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $jordanRelo > 49>>\ The quiet between you and Jordan doesn't feel like silence anymore. It feels like space, a kind of breathing room. He's leaned back, his script long forgotten on the step between you, and he's been glancing over at you every so often—not because he's waiting for you to say something, but because he wants to make sure you're okay. Eventually, you sigh and shift to stand. @@.player;"As much as I hate to do this, I //should// honestly get going. Still trying to track down Aurora."@@ @@.jordan;"You sure you're good?"@@ Jordan asks, sitting up from his slouch. You nod, hesitating just a beat too long. @@.player;"Yeah. I mean... not really. But yeah."@@ He gives you this look you can't quite describe. Gentle but steady. Like he cares, but doesn't know how to express it that well. @@.jordan;"Hey. You don't have to do the 'I'm fine' thing with me."@@ You smile, just a little. @@.player;"I know."@@ Jordan reaches out and gives your arm a brief, reassuring squeeze—just firm enough to be grounding. @@.jordan;"If you ever need to talk. Actually talk. I'm not going anywhere."@@ You meet his eyes—and for a second, the whole stairwell goes still. Because this isn't the Jordan who used to barely look at you in class. This isn't the Jordan who kept everyone at arm's length, locked behind walls and cool stares. And this ''definitely'' isn't the Jordan who got mad at the mall. This is //him//, making the conscious choice to show up. For you. He's looking at you like you matter. He wants you to be okay. Letting you in doesn't scare him the way it used to, and that lands harder than anything else today. You nod. @@.player;"Thanks. Really."@@ He tries to smile—it's small and a little crooked, like he's still figuring out how. He hasn't smiled much, but he's trying. Maybe just for you. @@.jordan;"Besides, someone's gotta make sure you don't get hexed into a guinea pig while chasing the school witch."@@ You snort. If only he knew. @@.player;"If she turns me into a guinea pig, I hope at least it's one of the cute ones."@@ You finally stand and head toward the door, but before you push it open, you hear him call out behind you. @@.jordan;"$name."@@ You glance back. He's watching you, leaning forward on his knees, expression a little softer. @@.jordan;"Don't let this place change you into someone you're not."@@ You nod and slip out of the stairwell, the door clicking shut behind you, feeling more like yourself again. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 29 or $d14jordanchoice1 isnot undefined>>\ The silence between you and Jordan has settled into something easier now—not exactly comfortable, but certainly familiar in its own way. He's flipping through his script with one hand, the other resting casually against his knee. Every so often, he glances at you, like he's checking to see if you're still there. Eventually, you shift and glance toward the stairwell door. @@.player;"I should probably get moving. Still trying to track down Aurora."@@ Jordan closes his script and rests it on his thigh. @@.jordan;"She's not exactly the easiest person to find."@@ @@.player;"That's kind of her brand, isn't it?"@@ He gives a faint, amused breath—almost a laugh. @@.jordan;"You good, though?"@@ You look at him. He's not pushing. He's just asking. @@.player;"Getting there."@@ Jordan nods back. @@.jordan;"Let me know if you need anything. Or, I don't know... moral support. Vaguely threatening stares in Zhang's direction."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Noted."@@ He shifts slightly, leaning back against the wall again, looking more relaxed than when you first found him. @@.jordan;"Good luck finding her,"@@ he says, tone softer. @@.jordan;"She usually shows up when she wants to."@@ You stand and offer him a small smile. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ @@.jordan;"See you in theater,"@@ he says, already flipping back to his script. You head down the stairs, feeling the weight of the day just a little lighter behind you. Jordan doesn't say anything else. But when you look back one last time, he's watching you go. <<else>>\ The silence stretches, heavy and stale like the air here. Jordan continues flipping through his script as if you're not even there. You clear your throat. @@.player;"I should get going. Still looking for Aurora."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says, eyes still on the script. @@.jordan;"Probably a better use of your time."@@ You wait, maybe even hope, for anything else—a nod, a glance, even the barest flicker of acknowledgment. Nothing. @@.player;"See you around, I guess,"@@ you say. Jordan doesn't answer. You turn and head back down the steps, each footfall louder than it should be. The air feels colder on the way out than it did going in. You don't look back. What would the point be? He never does. <</if>>\ <<button "Go back to the courtyard" "Day 16 - Search">><</button>>

<<set $temp3 to true>>\ You circle the back edge of the school, where the hallways start to crack and the fresh paint gives way to rusted utility doors. It takes a few tries to find the right service corridor, but eventually, you spot the faded black double doors of the abandoned theater stairwell. It's technically condemned and officially off-limits, but absolutely Aurora's vibe. You test the handle. Locked. Of course. But someone's wedged a thin piece of rubber between the door and the frame. You pull, and it creaks open with the groan of a place that hasn't been acknowledged in Pacific Crest's budget in years. It's dim inside. The only light leaks through the wired glass panes above, casting fractured golden beams down the stairwell. Dust hangs in the air. The walls are covered in peeling posters from long-forgotten plays, their edges curling like old leaves. You step in carefully, bracing for the eerie silence abandoned places always carry. But instead, you hear a voice. Not yours. Not Aurora's. @@.jordan;"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun—"@@ Your foot scuffs against the step, and the voice cuts off. A figure sits on the mid-level landing of the stairwell, arms resting on his knees, script pages loose at his side. ''Jordan.'' <<if $jordanRelo > 29 or $d14jordanchoice1 isnot undefined>>\ You pause on the lower step, and he looks up. He's not startled though, just curious. There's a beat. Then he smirks. Just a little. @@.jordan;"You lost or stalking me?"@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Can't it be both?"@@ Jordan exhales through his nose, amused. @@.jordan;"Fair."@@ You step up a few more stairs until you're level with him, the fractured afternoon light cutting lines through the dusty walls and the edge of his strong jaw. @@.player;"I was actually looking for someone else,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"Aurora."@@ He nods like that makes sense. @@.jordan;"Yeah, this place //does// scream 'mysterious goth girl energy.'"@@ He shifts over on the step without saying anything else—just enough to make room for you. You sit. It's quiet for a while. Just the echo of the school distant and faded, and Jordan's foot tapping absently. Then he says, without looking at you, @@.jordan;"People are talking."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"Trust me, I've noticed."@@ @@.jordan;"They won't shut up about it."@@ He tilts his head your way. @@.jordan;"You doing okay?"@@ You're still getting used to this version of Jordan—the one who asks things like that. But it's real. He's trying. You nod. @@.player;"It's certainly been a day."@@ Jordan's quiet for a second longer, then pulls a crumpled script page from beside him and squints at it. @@.jordan;"I've been running the same two lines for a while now. Bennet's going to roast me alive if I fumble my lines tomorrow."@@ You can't help but laugh. The quiet after feels... different now. Comfortable. Jordan doesn't fill it. He doesn't need to. He just lets it be. <<button "Tell him what happened with the principal" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask if he's heard the rumors too" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Keep it light and talk about theater" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask him why he comes here" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 3>>\<</button>> <<elseif $jordanRelo > 14>>\ He looks up when he hears you—eyes sharp and jaw tight. Not surprised. Not exactly welcoming, either. @@.jordan;"...You lost?"@@ he asks flatly. You pause at the bottom step. @@.player;"No. Just looking for someone."@@ He raises an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"Let me guess. It's Aurora."@@ You nod. Jordan huffs, glancing off to the side. @@.jordan;"Figures. Everyone wants something from her lately."@@ You're not sure what that means, but you let it go. The stairwell is heavy with dust and shadows, and Jordan doesn't move or gesture for you to sit. He stays ''exactly'' where he is—guarded and unreadable, like the steps themselves are off-limits unless you've earned them. @@.player;"I didn't think anyone used this place,"@@ you say after a few beats. @@.jordan;"I do."@@ His tone is final. @@.jordan;"Usually alone."@@ You stay standing. The silence teeters on the edge of tension. Then he says, still looking down at his script, @@.jordan;"People are talking about you. Pretty much everywhere."@@ You nod once. @@.player;"Yeah. I noticed."@@ He doesn't say anything else. He just drops the comment like a stone and lets it sit there between you. The air is cool and quiet. You've got a choice to make. <<button "Tell him what happened with the principal" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask if he's heard the rumors too" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Keep it light and talk about theater" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask him why he comes here" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 3>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ He turns, slow and deliberate. His expression is irritated. Cold. You freeze. @@.player;"Uh. Sorry. I didn't know anyone was—"@@ @@.jordan;"You're not supposed to be here,"@@ Jordan says, voice flat. He's not angry, but his words are sharp enough to slice through whatever apology you were building in your throat. He doesn't stand. Doesn't offer a smile. He just watches you like you're a scene partner who came in late and then said the wrong line. @@.jordan;"I usually come here to be //alone//,"@@ he adds. @@.jordan;"To run lines. Think. //Breathe.// So unless you're here to fix the building or audition, maybe tell me why you're standing in my stairwell?"@@ It's not said cruelly, just with all the warmth of the Arctic. You stand at the bottom of the steps, the air thick with dust and judgment, trying to decide if it's worth trying to explain why you were really here. Because Jordan? Jordan doesn't do small talk. And he ''definitely'' doesn't do interruptions. <<button "Apologize and leave" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Tell Jordan you're looking for Aurora" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask Jordan about the rumors" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Try to connect" "Day 16 - Stairwell 1">>\<<set $temp4 to 3>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 16>>\ <<set $bodyhair to 1>>\ <<set $pubichair to true>>\ The sound of your alarm jerks you out of sleep, its shrill tone slicing through the haze of dreams. You groan and slap at your phone until it //finally// shuts off. For a second, you lie still, blinking up at the ceiling. There's a strange heaviness in your limbs today—not exhaustion but something else. The weight of everything you've done is starting to settle in your chest. You exhale slowly and sit up, rubbing your eyes. Your phone buzzes again—this time, a notification from the school's app. You open it lazily, expecting some news or a corny message from the student council. But today's headline is different. ''🎒 TODAY IS "BRING ANYTHING BUT A BACKPACK DAY"'' ''Get creative and carry your school stuff in literally //anything// but a backpack. Bonus point for weirdness!'' You stare at the screen as your brain tries to process the idea. This is... really stupid. But also kind of funny. You scroll through the school's photo feed from last year. Someone used a microwave, another used a dog crate, and one even brought a massive metal pot. You glance around your room. Your actual backpack is slumped near your desk, loyal and boring. No creativity there. But part of you kind of wants to join in. How though? <<button "Use a shopping cart" "Day 16 - 2">>\<<set $d16backpack to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D16_backpack" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Use a fish tank" "Day 16 - 2">>\<<set $d16backpack to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D16_backpack" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Use a Halloween cauldron" "Day 16 - 2">>\<<set $d16backpack to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D16_backpack" 2 "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide not to participate" "Day 16 - 2">>\<<set $d16backpack to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D16_backpack" 3 "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-hallway.png"> <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ The lunch bell rings, and the hallway floods with noise—laughter, footsteps, locker slams, and the hum of chaos. You're weaving through it, head low, when you hear a familiar voice behind you. @@.jessica;"$name. Wait."@@ You stop and turn. Jessica is there, standing just off to the side near the trophy case, the light catching the edge of her top. She looks flawless, as always—but there's something tight around her eyes. Not annoyed. Not performative. Worried. She gives you a quick, almost guilty smile and tilts her head. @@.jessica;"Can we talk?"@@ You nod, and she gently tugs you toward a quiet alcove just outside the main flow of the hallway, where it's just quiet enough to feel like a private conversation. Once you're there, she crosses her arms and glances around before looking back at you. @@.jessica;"I didn't want to do this in public,"@@ she starts, voice low. @@.jessica;"But... what happened? In the office."@@ You hesitate. She doesn't push. Instead, she just watches your face for a few seconds before sighing. @@.jessica;"The rumors are out of control,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"They're saying all kinds of stuff—like you hexed Mr. Zhang, or you're faking being trans for attention, or that you're secretly trying to infiltrate the school board with a woke agenda. It's //ridiculous//."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"That last one sounds way too specific."@@ Jessica grimaces. @@.jessica;"Apparently, someone's dad has a podcast. But that's not the point."@@ She leans in, voice dropping even lower. @@.jessica;"People are already on edge about you. And if they find out you're on the cheer team—and not just helping, but //actually// on it... they're going to lose their minds."@@ You shift. @@.player;"Yeah, I know."@@ @@.jessica;"I mean, I've tried to get ahead,"@@ she says quickly. @@.jessica;"Told the girls to keep quiet, shut down a few rumors before they got too wild, but I don't think we can hide it forever. If Zhang finds out, or if it spreads before we're ready... he'll make it a problem."@@ There's only concern in her voice. @@.jessica;"I don't want this to blow back to you or the team,"@@ she adds, softer. @@.jessica;"You've actually been //really// good out there. You didn't just help, you stepped up when we needed you. Hell, when ''I'' needed you. And I appreciate that."@@ She pauses, studying you. Her usual confidence wavers for half a second. @@.jessica;"I just don't know how long we can hold this line."@@ The hallway noise keeps moving around you, distant and muffled. @@.jessica;"I'm not saying we out you or make some grand announcement,"@@ she says earnestly. @@.jessica;"But... we should probably figure out how we're going to handle it. Together. Before someone else handles it //for// us."@@ She lets the silence hang for a few moments. @@.jessica;"You probably have enough on your plate right now, but let's talk later, alright?"@@ Jessica grips your hand tight and gives you a reassuring smile before turning back and walking off into the crowd. <<elseif $jessicaRelo > 29>>\ The lunch bell rings, shrill and abrupt, cutting through the noise like it's personally trying to get your attention. You're halfway down the hallway, slipping into the tide of students headed toward their next classes, when a perfectly manicured hand reaches your elbow. @@.jessica;"$name."@@ You turn, already knowing who it is. Jessica's standing just off to the side near the trophy case. Her posture is perfect, hair tucked neatly behind one year. She's not smiling, but her expression isn't cold, either. She jerks her chin slightly, motioning for you to step aside with her—off to the edge of the hall, where it's just quiet enough to feel like a private conversation. You follow without protest. Once the two of you out of everyone's earshot, she speaks. @@.jessica;"What happened?"@@ she asks. You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.jessica;"Sorry, that was a little cold,"@@ she lets out a laugh. @@.jessica;"I meant what happened in the office with Mr. Zhang. The entire school is talking."@@ You look away. <<if $d8jessicaPlan is true>>\ She sighs, glancing over her shoulder before speaking. @@.jessica;"Hey,"@@ she says quietly. @@.jessica;"I've been keeping my ear to the ground. And things, as I'm sure you know, are getting worse."@@ You don't need to ask what she means. The buzz around school hasn't stopped since lunch. You feel it in every glance and every whisper. Jessica sighs, brushing her hair behind one year. @@.jessica;"I told them what we agreed on. That it was estrogen. That it was medical. That you didn't want to talk about it."@@ She pauses. @@.jessica;"It worked—for a while."@@ You swallow. @@.player;"And now?"@@ @@.jessica;"Now, they're questioning it,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"They're asking what kind of condition it could even be. Saying if it were real, you'd have a doctor's note or something to show. Some are just straight-up calling it fake."@@ She looks at you, more serious now. @@.jessica;"I've been shutting down what I can. But I don't have control over everything. You're kind of... high-profile now. And I think everyone's sensing that something's off and that there's more to the story."@@ You stay quiet. She watches you for a moment longer before softening. @@.jessica;"Look, I know we're not //super// close or whatever,"@@ she says, arms folded now. @@.jessica;"But I didn't offer to help for fun. I care, $name, and I don't want to see you get chewed up by the rumor machine."@@ She's not looking at you like you're a burden or a PR problem. She's looking at you like someone who //knows// what it's like to be at the center of a spotlight you didn't ask for. @@.jessica;"You're just trying to survive high school like the rest of us. So if you need help, or space, or just someone to yell at a freshman until they cry—I'm around. Okay?"@@ Then she nods—firm and controlled, Jessica-style—and steps back into the crowd, slipping away with practiced ease. But her words hang in the air, heavier than you'd expect. <<else>>\ She sighs, glancing over her shoulder before speaking, like she's making sure no one's listening. @@.jessica;"Okay, look,"@@ Jessica says, her voice low and uncharacteristically direct. @@.jessica;"I //really// wasn't going to say anything, but this whole thing is getting out of hand."@@ You pause, unsure how to respond. @@.jessica;"I tried to stay out of it,"@@ she continues, folding her arms. @@.jessica;"I figured that if you wanted to explain things, you would. But people are talking, $name. A lot."@@ @@.player;"I've noticed,"@@ you say, laughing bitterly. @@.jessica;"Yeah, you're kind of the headline right now,"@@ she continues, eyes scanning your face. @@.jessica;"Like there are so many versions of the story floating around, and none of them make sense. One kid said you cursed the principal. Another thinks you're in disguise to expose the school board. The rumor mill is chewing you up and I don't think it's gonna slow down."@@ She hesitates, then adds, @@.jessica;"Back when I offered to cover for you... I was just trying to give you breathing room. But I get why you didn't take it."@@ You glance at her. There's no judgment in her face—just a guarded sincerity. She sighs and adjusts the strap of her bag, suddenly looking more tired than you're used to seeing. @@.jessica;"I'm not here to tell you what to do, but the rumors will only get worse from here. And if it gets out of hand, you'll get hurt."@@ She pauses, then meets your eyes. @@.jessica;"I don't want that to be you. So if you need help, or space, or just someone to yell at a freshman until they cry—I'm around. Okay?"@@ She doesn't wait for a thank you or even a response. Just nods once, like she's said her piece, and walks off down the hall. But she meant it. And that means something. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ The lunch bell rings a little too loudly. You're halfway down the hallway, blending into the tide of students heading toward your next classes, when a perfectly manicured hand grabs your elbow. @@.jessica;"$name."@@ You stop, startled, and turn to see Jessica standing just off to the side of the hall, near the trophy case. She's blonde, poised, and unbothered as always. Her outfit is flawless because of course it is. She doesn't smile. She jerks her chin slightly, motioning for you to step aside with her—away from the stream of students. You go. She crosses her arms once you're out of everyone's earshot, scanning you quickly. It's not in a kind way but not in a mean way either. Just... calculating. @@.jessica;"What happened?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.jessica;"In the office with Mr. Zhang,"@@ she says, voice low. @@.jessica;"Everyone's talking. You know that, right?"@@ You don't answer. She sighs and glances over her shoulder like she's already regretting having this conversation. <<if $d8jessicaPlan is true>>\ @@.jessica;"Look, I covered for you,"@@ she says, quieter now. @@.jessica;"I did what I could."@@ You tense slightly. @@.jessica;"I told people you were on estrogen for a medical reason. That it was private. That you didn't want to talk about it. Most of them bought it—at least, enough to make them back off."@@ There's a pause. @@.jessica;"But it's starting to fall apart,"@@ she says, folding her arms. @@.jessica;"People are bored, and when they're bored, they start poking holes."@@ You glance down the hall. You can still hear the faint buzz of conversation. Jessica's tone sharpens just a little. @@.jessica;"I had three people ask me today if you're //actually// sick. One girl said she looked up hormone replacement therapy on Google and now she's playing doctor. You're turning into a game of telephone and I'm not gonna be the one answering for it."@@ @@.player;"Are you telling me you're done?"@@ She exhales through her nose. @@.jessica;"I'm telling you I can't control it anymore, $name. I gave them something to chew on so you didn't have to say anything yourself. But it's been a week. The stakes have gotten higher. And you can't hang everything on a lie forever. Even on that sounds halfway medical."@@ There's no venom in her voice. But no warmth, either. Just a kind of exhausted edge—like she's burned more energy than she planned defending someone she barely knows. @@.jessica;"You don't have to tell me what exactly is going on with you,"@@ she says, softer now. @@.jessica;"But if you want people to stop turning you into the latest gossip dump, you ''need'' to figure out what story you're actually trying to tell."@@ She shifts her bag onto her shoulder. @@.jessica;"I've done what I can."@@ Then she turns, walking back into the crowd without looking back. <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"Look, I don't know what you told people. I don't //want// to know, honestly. But the rumors are insane right now. Some freshman asked me if you were transitioning. Another kid said you hexed Principal Zhang at the Autumn Festival. Someone else said you're suing the school for gender discrimination."@@ You frown. @@.player;"None of that's—"@@ @@.jessica;"I //know// it's not true,"@@ she cuts in. @@.jessica;"But you're kind of the center of everyone's gossip playlist right now, and I can't exactly shut it down anymore. Not without making it worse."@@ Her voice is laced with frustration. Not even at you, necessarily—more like at the situation. @@.jessica;"I tried to help last week,"@@ she continues, folding her arms tighter. @@.jessica;"Told a few people to back off. Said you were going through something that wasn't their business. But it's spiraled. People ''love'' drama, $name."@@ She shifts her weight, eyes scanning your face again. Not cruel. Just tired. Distant. @@.jessica;"I don't know what's actually going on with you,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"And we're not exactly close, so... yeah. I'm not going to pretend I'm in your corner or anything."@@ That stings more than you expect, even if it's true. @@.jessica;"But I //am// telling you this: whatever happened in the principal's office? You need to be careful. Everyone's watching and you're gonna have a target on your back."@@ You glance away. She doesn't offer comfort. She doesn't offer to help. She just steps back, adjusting the strap on her bag. @@.jessica;"Just be careful, $name."@@ And then she walks off into the crowd, back straight and expression already reset. Like nothing ever happened. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - 11">><</button>>

After the final bell rings, you opt to linger at school instead of heading home. The weight of everything that's been building all day feels heavy on your shoulders. Aurora's warning. Principal Zhang's threats. The whispers. The conversation with Jessica. But Aurora //knew// this would happen. She always knows more than she lets on. You glance around the courtyard. Students are scattering, lockers are slamming, and voices are fading. The air feels thinner now, almost as if the day itself is holding its breath. You've got no idea where she is—but if anyone's going to have answers, it's her. <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ <<set $temp3 to false>>\ <<button "Search for Aurora" "Day 16 - Search">><</button>>

You're maybe ten steps from the front gate when something catches your eye near the edge of the courtyard—just past the last row of hedges, tucked into a corner. A little shadow, a flicker of movement. At first, you think it's just your brain playing tricks on you. But then you see her. ''Aurora.'' She's crouched low. Her hands are delicately moving over a patch of dirt, fingers curled like she's doing something very specific and very intentional. Her nails are painted a matte-black, chipped around the edges, and she's carefully nudging a tiny pile of roly-polies into a perfect circle around a flat, polished stone. There's chalk too—smudges of white forming symbols you don't recognize, looping around the edge of the rock like a secret ritual. She hums to herself, something tuneless and haunting and kind of beautiful all at the same time. You freeze. She looks up without surprise. Of course she does. She tilts her head slightly, one hand still hovering over a gently-rolling bug like she's casting a spell. @@.aurora;"I was wondering when you'd find me,"@@ she says. @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask. You'd been searching for hours. Aurora smiles, the corner of her mouth curling. @@.aurora;"You've been searching. All day. For answers, warnings, comfort. Maybe even a sense of control."@@ She taps one finger on the flat stone. The roly-polies scatter. @@.aurora;"It always leads back to here."@@ You step closer. @@.player;"Did you know I'd come find you?"@@ @@.aurora;"I didn't //know//. I just made space for you to arrive."@@ She finally stands, brushing off her top. @@.aurora;"Sometimes people need the journey before they're ready to listen."@@ You stare at her, unsure whether to be frustrated or relieved. She brushes a bit of dirt from her fingers and adds, @@.aurora;"I'm glad you came."@@ The courtyard feels oddly quiet now. The light's fading, but you only have one thing to say. <<button "Just ask for help" "Day 16 - 13">><</button>>

You take a breath, the kind that feels heavier than air, and step closer until you're just a few feet from her. @@.player;"Aurora..."@@ your voice wavers, just a little. @@.player;"I need help."@@ She studies you for a long, quiet moment. Her expression softens, not with pity—Aurora doesn't do pity—but with understanding. The kind of bone-deep recognition that makes you feel like she's already seen this before. She turns slightly, looking back toward the roly-polies, now free. Their little lives continue with no idea they'd been part of some strange, sacred ritual. @@.aurora;"You're not the first person to ask me for help,"@@ she says softly. @@.aurora;"And you won't be the last."@@ You wait, holding your breath. @@.aurora;"But I'm not the one who can give it."@@ That lands with a dull thud in your chest. She sees the shift in your face, the drop in your shoulders, and gently adds, @@.aurora;"It's not because I don't want to. But this? This is yours."@@ You look at her, uncertain. @@.player;"But you //know// things, Aurora. You warned me. You knew something bad was coming."@@ @@.aurora;"I did."@@ She nods once. @@.aurora;"And I still do. But warnings aren't cures. Prophecies aren't solutions."@@ You frown. @@.player;"So what are you even here for? To be cryptic and poetic while I fall apart?"@@ Aurora lets out a soft laugh. @@.aurora;"No. I'm here to remind you that you're not //just// falling apart. You're changing. And change always feels like breaking at first."@@ You look down for a few seconds, thinking her words over. But when you glance back, she's not watching you anymore. She's looking at the horizon, past the fencing that wraps around campus, past the cracked sidewalks and autumn trees. It's like she sees something there that hasn't happened yet. You hesitate, then speak. @@.player;"Amber,"@@ you state. @@.player;"She knows about this. I want to talk to her again."@@ She tilts her head, expression unreadable. @@.aurora;"You're sure?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. I am."@@ There's something steady in your voice you didn't expect. Aurora studies you for another long second, as if she's making sure this isn't a passing whim. Then she closes her hand into a fist. When she opens again, there's a small slip of paper. You don't see her write anything on it. She just folds it in half and presses it into your hand. You open it. It's not a spell. Not a riddle. Just the name of a building, scrawled in deep purple ink. ''The Hollow Glen Apartments – Building C''' You blink. @@.player;"That's downtown. Near the college."@@ Aurora nods once. @@.aurora;"That's where you'll find her."@@ You look down at the note. @@.player;"So she just lives here?"@@ Silence. You look up to ask more, but Aurora's already turning. She walks toward the trees, her black top swaying with the breeze and bracelets glinting faintly. The purple tips of her hair catch the sunlight streaks of twilight. She's not walking away. Just elsewhere. @@.player;"Aurora—wait—"@@ you call out, but when you step around the hedge to follow her— She's gone. Just like that. You stare at the place she'd been. The patch of dirt and the now disbanded circle of bugs. The paper in your hand with that address feels heavier than it should. It's time to find Amber. <<button "The Hollow Glen Apartments – Building C" "Day 16 - 14">><</button>>

<<set $d16transgender to $transgender>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ <<grantAchievement "GlenwoodQuestion">>\ You stand in front of ''The Hollow Glen Apartments'', the sun dipping behind the roof of Building C, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying not to think about how your reflection in the apartment door's glass doesn't look like it did a few weeks ago. Yet, it's not as scary as it used to be. You knock. The door opens a few seconds later. Amber stands there, barefoot and casual, hair in a loose bun and wearing a faded hoodie that says //WITCHES GET STUFF DONE// across the chest. She's holding a mug that smells like coffee. @@.amber;"Well, well. If it isn't the Prodigy."@@ You groan. @@.player;"Don't call me that."@@ @@.amber;"You keep doing prodigy things, I'm gonna keep saying it,"@@ she says, stepping aside. @@.amber;"Get in here."@@ You walk in. Her apartment is warm and lived-in. Crystals on bookshelves. A half-melted candle on the coffee table, a blanket fort in one corner, for reasons you don't even question. Everything about this space screams //someone who figured herself out years ago and never looked back//. <<set $ambertalkCG to true>>\ <<set $ambertalkCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $ambertalkCGhairtie to $hairtie>>\ <<set $ambertalkCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $ambertalkCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $ambertalkCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_AmberTalk">>\ @@.amber;"So,"@@ she says, studying you with that sharp, too-knowing look. @@.amber;"How have things been?"@@ You pause, wondering just how things have been. @@.player;"I feel different,"@@ you finally say. Amber tilts her head, interested. @@.amber;"Scared?"@@ You think about it. Then shake your head. @@.player;"Not really. Not as much anymore."@@ She smiles proudly. @@.amber;"That's pretty damn big."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"But... things are still hard. Especially at school. The more I change, the louder people whisper."@@ Her smile fades. You hesitate, then finally say it. @@.player;"I got pulled into the principal's office today. Mr. Zhang. He didn't outright accuse me of anything, but it was all there. The way he looked at me. The way he talked about 'concerns' and how I'm 'confusing people.' He said that my teachers are going to be sending him weekly updates now. They're monitoring me. Just waiting for me to mess up."@@ Amber's expression hardens, the coffee mug creaking slightly under her grip. @@.amber;"That's a damn power trip, $name. Not a policy."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, well, he's making it //his// policy. Everyone's whispering. About what I'm doing and what I'm becoming. And I get it—I look different. Hell, I //am// different. But it's like they're all waiting to see what side I land on."@@ Amber hums. @@.amber;"And you're still figuring that out yourself."@@ @@.player;"Exactly."@@ She watches you for a few beats before finally saying: @@.amber;"You don't owe anyone an explanation for who you're becoming. Not them. Not your fuckwit of a principal. Not even me."@@ You blink. @@.amber;"You're not a case study,"@@ she says, leaning back and sipping her coffee. @@.amber;"You're a person. And if this magic is helping you see more of yourself, even through the chaos? Then it doesn't sound like a curse to me. Not really."@@ You glance at her, something warm stirring under your ribs. @@.player;"It doesn't feel like a curse,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"Not anymore."@@ Amber smiles again, that proud older sister kind of smile. @@.amber;"Told you. Prodigy."@@ You groan again at the stupid nickname. @@.amber;"You've come all this way, so... got questions?"@@ she asks gently, a spark of curiosity behind all that cool composure. @@.amber;"Or did you drop in to vibe?"@@ You smirk despite yourself, and she grins back. Then she adds, more sincerely. @@.amber;"Seriously. Ask me something. Anything. I won't give you fluff."@@ <<button "How did you know who you were?" "Day 16 - 15">>\<<set $temp to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D16_trans_question" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "What if I lose people over this?" "Day 16 - 15">>\<<set $temp to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D16_trans_question" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Do you ever miss who you used to be?" "Day 16 - 15">>\<<set $temp to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D16_trans_question" 2 "story">><</button>> <<else>> <<grantAchievement "GlenwoodCis">>\ You stand outside ''The Hollow Glen Apartments'', staring up at Building C like it's a boss battle in a game you didn't sign up to play. It's quiet here—just the distant hum of traffic and the rustle of wind through leaves. You shift uncomfortably, hands stuffed in your pockets, eyes flicking toward the note Aurora gave you like it might change. It doesn't. You take a breath. You ''hate'' the softened lines and unfamiliar curves of your reflection. You need help. You knock. The door opens a few seconds later. Amber stands there, barefoot and casual, hair in a loose bun and wearing a faded hoodie that says //WITCHES GET STUFF DONE// across the chest. She's holding a mug that smells like coffee. She eyes you up and down. @@.amber;"Well, look who's here."@@ You step inside without a word. Her apartment is warm and lived-in. Crystals on bookshelves. A half-melted candle on the coffee table, a blanket fort in one corner, for reasons you don't even question. Everything about this space screams //someone who figured herself out years ago and never looked back//. You sit on the couch. Amber takes the chair across from you, curling one leg underneath herself, still nursing her coffee. @@.amber;"You look like someone who's been fighting their own shadow,"@@ she says. @@.amber;"Metaphorically, of course."@@ You give her a half-shrug. @@.player;"I just want this to stop. All of it."@@ Amber nods slowly. @@.amber;"You and every other poor soul who stumbles into transformation magic with both fists clenched."@@ @@.player;"I didn't choose this, Amber,"@@ you say. You let out a shaky breath, hands clasped in your lap, knuckles white. @@.player;"I'm not trans. I don't want any of this. And no one's giving me a way out."@@ Amber tilts her head, watching you carefully. You hesitate, then finally say it. @@.player;"I got pulled into the principal's office today. Mr. Zhang. He didn't outright accuse me of anything, but it was all there. The way he looked at me. The way he talked about 'concerns' and how I'm 'confusing people.' He said that my teachers are going to be sending him weekly updates now. They're monitoring me. Just waiting for me to mess up."@@ Amber's mouth tightens, and she leans forward a little. @@.amber;"That's harassment, $name. Sure, it's wrapped in policy, but it's evident what it //really// is."@@ @@.player;"I know, but what can I do?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Everyone's whispering. I can //feel// it in the halls. The rumors are getting worse. People think I'm trying to trick them, or pretending, or sneaking into bathrooms just to cause drama."@@ Amber closes her eyes for a second. @@.amber;"Heaven forbid a teenager changes and doesn't immediately send a press release to the entire city, right?"@@ You almost laugh at that, but it comes out bitter. @@.player;"And it's not like I can explain the truth,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"What am I even supposed to say? 'Sorry, I look like this because a crazy witch cursed me and now I'm halfway into a body I never asked for'?"@@ She doesn't answer right away. @@.amber;"I get it,"@@ she finally says, voice softening. @@.amber;"I really do. You're not me. You didn't //ask// to become something new. And it's okay to say that out loud. It's okay to be frustrated. You're allowed to be confused."@@ The room goes quiet. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. @@.amber;"Talk to me, $name. I might be the only other person in the world who can relate. You can ask me something. I won't promise easy answers, but I'll give you honest ones."@@ <<button "How do I make it stop?" "Day 16 - 15">>\<<set $temp to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D16_cis_question" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Did you ever feel like you were becoming something else?" "Day 16 - 15">>\<<set $temp to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D16_cis_question" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Why did Madame Serena pick me?" "Day 16 - 15">>\<<set $temp to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D16_cis_question" 2 "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ <<if $temp is 0>>\ You sit for a long moment, the hum of her apartment—soft wind chimes near the balcony and the occasional creek of the wood floor—settling around you like a safe blanket. Then, quietly, you ask: @@.player;"How did you //know// who you were?"@@ Amber exhales. It's like she's heard this question a hundred times—but would never treat it like it's less than sacred. @@.amber;"You know, I didn't,"@@ she says. @@.amber;"Not at first."@@ She leans forward, resting her arms on her knees. @@.amber;"I knew something felt wrong, that's for sure. I'd look in the mirror and feel like I was borrowing my own skin. Everyone told me I was fine, but it always felt like I was //performing// fine."@@ You nod, the feeling hitting too close to home. @@.amber;"And one day,"@@ she continues. @@.amber;"I stopped asking, 'What if I'm wrong?' and started asking, 'What if I'm //right//?'"@@ Her eyes soften. @@.amber;"That changed everything."@@ You glance down as you play with your fingers. @@.player;"Was it scary?"@@ Amber chuckles. @@.amber;"It was fucking terrifying. But it was also ''real''. And once I tasted that? There was no going back."@@ Her words sit heavy in your chest. @@.amber;"You already knew to come here,"@@ she adds. @@.amber;"Even if you weren't sure why. That's not nothing, Prodigy."@@ You don't groan this time. You just smile because maybe she's right. Maybe you've already started knowing. <<elseif $temp is 1>>\ You glance at her as you fidget with your hands. @@.player;"...What if I lose people over this?"@@ you ask quietly. @@.player;"Friends. Family. People that matter to me."@@ Amber doesn't answer right away, opting to just lean back. @@.amber;"You probably will,"@@ she finally says. The bluntness lands hard. She's not being cruel or scaring you though. She's just being honest. @@.amber;"I did,"@@ she continues. @@.amber;"Friends I grew up with. A cousin who used to braid my hair when I was a kid. Even a couple exes who swore they'd always support me. Turns out it was easy to say that until I started making things //real//."@@ You nod slowly. @@.amber;"But here's the part I didn't get until later,"@@ Amber says, voice warm but firm. @@.amber;"Losing them //felt// like grief. But it was just clarity."@@ She sets the mug down, locking eyes with you. @@.amber;"Anyone who bails because you're becoming more of yourself? They were never really holding on to //you// in the first place. Just the version of you that didn't make them uncomfortable."@@ You sit with that. It stings—but not in the wrong way. Amber smiles, something sharp and proud. @@.amber;"You're not going to be too much for the right people. The people who stay? They're gold. And you've already got a few of those, don't you?"@@ You think of the people who've stuck close to you. You nod. Amber taps the side of her mug. @@.amber;"Then you're already ahead of where I was."@@ Her words somehow help more than you expected them to. <<elseif $temp is 2>>\ You toy with the edge of one of the throw pillows on her couch, fingers curling into the seam. The question slips out before you fully think it through. @@.player;"Do you ever miss who you used to be?"@@ Amber stills for a moment. Then she exhales through her nose and sits back in her chair, letting the weight of the question settle. @@.amber;"Sometimes,"@@ she says. You glance up at her, surprised by how easily she admits it. Amber gives a small, wry smile. @@.amber;"Not because I //liked// who I was back then. I didn't then and I don't now. But because back then, things were simple. People smiled more and they didn't ask questions. I could disappear when I wanted. There's a kind of safety in invisibility—especially when the alternative is being seen the wrong way."@@ You swallow. @@.amber;"It's okay to feel weird about who you used to be, $name,"@@ Amber says, looking at you more seriously now. @@.amber;"You don't have to hate that version. You don't even have to fully understand them. Just recognize that they helped you get to the version of you that feels //real//."@@ The words hit somewhere deep—somewhere that doesn't need to be explained right now. <</if>>\ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say softly. Amber raises her mug and grins. @@.amber;"Always happy to deliver some clarity with a side of witchy aesthetic."@@ <<else>>\ <<if $temp is 0>>\ You lean forward, elbows on your knees, hands clasped so tight your knuckles ache. And you don't bother dancing around it. @@.player;"Amber... how do I make it stop?"@@ Your voice cracks just slightly. Not from fear, exactly, but from exhaustion. The weight of knowing you're on a clock, and the deadline's coming fast. Amber's face shapes with a quiet sympathy she usually keeps hidden behind swagger. She doesn't answer right away so you press on. @@.player;"I know I've got until graduation. Until the end of senior year. After that, it's permanent. The curse locks in. The changes stay."@@ She sighs, setting her mug aside. @@.amber;"I wish I could tell you the answer, Prodigy. I really do."@@ Your stomach sinks. @@.amber;"But the truth is nobody knows how to break what Serena sets in motion,"@@ she continues. @@.amber;"She's not just powerful—she's old magic. Deep magic. The kind of spellwork that wraps itself around your soul. Once it's started... stopping it outright?"@@ Amber shakes her head. @@.amber;"That's above what most witches can even dream of. Probably even Serena herself."@@ You look away, jaw tight. @@.player;"So what, I'm just screwed?"@@ @@.amber;"No,"@@ Amber says firmly. @@.amber;"You're not."@@ You glance back at her. @@.amber;"We'll figure it out,"@@ she says. @@.amber;"I'll help and we'll figure something out. I'm not gonna let you walk into the end of senior year and get rewritten by a curse you didn't ask for."@@ Your chest tightens again—but this time, it's in relief, not in panic. @@.amber;"You're not alone in this,"@@ Amber says, reaching out to hold your hand in hers. And you believe her. <<elseif $temp is 1>>\ You stare down at the floor for a long while before the words finally come. @@.player;"Did you ever feel like you were... becoming something else?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Something that didn't feel like you at all?"@@ Amber doesn't answer right away. She sets her coffee down and leans forward in her chair. The smile she wears now isn't playful or smug. It's thoughtful. @@.amber;"No,"@@ she says softly. @@.amber;"But that's because I //wanted// the change. For me, it wasn't becoming something else. It was finally becoming myself."@@ She looks at you carefully. @@.amber;"But I get the question. And I get why you're asking it."@@ You glance up at her. Amber continues, voice steady. @@.amber;"If you're standing in front of a mirror and watching your body shift into something that doesn't feel right—something you never asked for—that's not transition. That's disorientation. That's your sense of self getting scrambled by something bigger than you."@@ She shakes her head. @@.amber;"And no one should be forced to feel that way."@@ You feel your chest tighten. @@.amber;"I've worked with people who got hit with identity-affecting magic before,"@@ she says. @@.amber;"Not all of them were trans. Some of them just... didn't know how to process what was happening to them. And the worst thing anyone can do in that moment is pretend it's not a violation."@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"That's what it feels like."@@ Amber folds her hands in her lap. @@.amber;"Then you've got every right to push back and to fight for yourself. You don't have to become anyone else, $name. Not unless that's something you want. Your identity's not broken. It's under siege."@@ There's no judgement in her eyes, just clarity. You nod again, this time far more certain. Amber's not questioning who you are, she's helping you defend it. <<elseif $temp is 2>>\ You stare at the bookshelf behind Amber for a long moment, eyes unfocused, tracking the spines of old spellbooks and journals. Then you say it, @@.player;"Why me?"@@ Amber looks up from her coffee. @@.player;"Why did Madame Serena have to pick me? I didn't do anything. I just did the wrong thing in a stupid tent and suddenly I'm cursed like I signed up for it or something."@@ There's heat in your voice now. Not rage. Just tired of trying to understand something that never made sense. Amber's gaze narrows slightly—not at you, but like she's thinking through something complicated. @@.amber;"Honestly?"@@ she says after a moment. @@.amber;"No one really knows what goes through Madame Serena's head. She's powerful and old as hell—probably sees the world in layers most of us don't even know exist."@@ You already expected that. @@.amber;"But.."@@ Amber sets her mug down and folds her hands. @@.amber;"If I had to guess? She looked at you, saw someone she //thought// was trans—and assumed this was some big cosmic awakening just waiting to happen. Like she was judging you toward your so-called 'truth.'"@@ You stare at her. @@.amber;"She was wrong,"@@ Amber says firmly. @@.amber;"And that matters."@@ You feel your throat tighten. @@.player;"So I got cursed because someone misread me and I just have to ride it out?"@@ Amber's eyes are steady. @@.amber;"No. Now you fight for your own reflection. You don't owe this curse a transformation just because someone expected it of you."@@ She lets that land before speaking up again, softer this time. @@.amber;"You're not broken for not becoming what she thought you would. You're you. And that's not a failure, $name."@@ For the first time, someone said it out loud: Serena was wrong. And you're not here to fulfill a story that isn't yours. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - 16">><</button>>

Amber leans back, stretching her arms above her head until her joints crack. @@.amber;"Alright,"@@ she says, shaking off the weight in the room, @@.amber;"we're taking a break before you fully collapse into existential goo."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ She grins, already rising from the chair. @@.amber;"Jenga. You and me. Now."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"You seriously own Jenga?"@@ @@.amber;"$name, I don't just own Jenga. I own //haunted// Jenga,"@@ she says proudly, pulling a slightly beat-up orange box from underneath a side table. @@.amber;"I enchanted one of the blocks during finals week last semester. Pretty sure it still whispers mean things if you hold it wrong."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You enchanted a Jenga block?"@@ @@.amber;"Yeah, for good luck. It didn't work, but it //did// insult me while I was studying. I don't even know what I did to deserve that."@@ She plops the box onto the coffee table, dumps the pieces out, and starts stacking them. You hesitate, but end up sitting across from her and helping. Your hands are steadier than you expected. Once the tower's built, Amber gestures grandly. @@.amber;"Loser has to drink one of my unfinished potions."@@ @@.player;"You're joking,"@@ you say cautiously. Amber smirks. @@.amber;"Am I?"@@ @@.player;"You //definitely// are,"@@ you say, narrowing your eyes. She shrugs. @@.amber;"Guess we'll find out."@@ The first few turns pass quietly. Just the soft //clink// of wooden blocks, the creak of the couch, and the low murmur of some hip-hop playlist humming from her phone. There's something calming about it—about doing something so pointless on purpose. About being allowed to laugh when you manage to pull out a block and Amber mutters, @@.amber;"Rude,"@@ like it personally betrayed her. About the way she grins when she pulls the whispering block and holds it to her ear, theatrically gasping. @@.amber;"It says you're gonna lose. That's fucking brutal."@@ About how you smile—genuinely, finally—and don't even realize it until it's already happened. The tower starts to sway. Amber leans in. @@.amber;"Do you feel that, $name?"@@ @@.player;"The tension?"@@ you ask, squinting. @@.amber;"No. The //fear//. This is spiritual warfare now. Two titans clashing."@@ You laugh. The tower crashes just two turns later—loud, messy, blocks clattering across the table and onto the floor. You both pause. Then Amber grins. @@.amber;"You needed that."@@ And yeah, you kind of did. <<button "Head back home" "Day 16 - 17">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $nude to 2>>\ <<set $nudebutton to 2>>\ The walk back home is quiet, the late-evening chill and smell of damp leaves present. You pass the bus stop, the cracked sidewalk near Sycamore Park, and the quiet stretch where the trees arch. By the time you unlock your front door, your body feels heavy, like the day's weight is finally allowed to sink in. You kick off your shoes and beeline for the bathroom like it's the only safe space left in the world. The second you step into the bathroom, the white tile and warm overhead lighting greet you like a gentle hug. It's quiet in here, but after the day you've had, that's ''exactly'' what you need. The little houseplant on the shelf is still alive somehow, and the faint smell of citrus-scented soap lingers in the air. You twist the faucet, and warm water begins pouring into the tub. Steam curls upward, clinging to the polished white tile, fogging up the mirror just enough to blur your reflection. You reach over to the neatly arranged shelves and pick a bath bomb that promises "stress relief." God knows you need it. The water rises as you undress slowly, every layer feeling heavier than the last. And when you finally ease into the bath, the warmth //melts// into your skin. It's not dramatic or magical. But it //is// comfort. Your muscles sigh. The quiet settles into your bones. You tilt your head back against the tile, eyes fluttering closed, breath slowing. The world outside—whispers, stares, magic, conversations you're not ready to have—can wait. In the safety of your bathroom, it's just the trickle of steam against tile, the soft splash of water shifting around your arms, and the warm light casting shadows across the room. You sink deeper. For a while, you don't have to be anyone other than you. Warm and safe, even if it's just for now. <<button "Relax" "Day 16 - 18">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<if $d7shave is true>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You shift in the tub, stretching your legs just enough for them to break the surface of the water. The glow from the ceiling light catches on your skin—and that's when you notice it. ''Hair.'' Not a lot, but enough to see. Your leg hair is coming back, soft but visible. Your armpits, too—when you lift an arm to brush wet strands of hair from your face, you catch the faint shadow of stubble returning. Even down below, you can feel it. Your pubic hair is growing like it never left. You sigh, sinking deeper into the water until your chin touches the surface. You shaved a little over a week ago and you remember how your skin felt after: smooth, clean, //quiet//. But now it's all creeping back in. It's subtle, sure, but it feels loud. You run your fingers over your skin, the short hair prickling under your touch. It doesn't feel neutral. It feels off. Not in a dramatic way, but like it doesn't match. You let your head fall back against the tub wall, staring at the ceiling as the steam rises around you. Should I shave again? Maybe you already know the answer. <<else>>\ You shift slightly in the tub, letting the warm water lap higher up your chest as the last of the steam curls lazily along the walls. The heat has done its job—your muscles ache less and your brain's stopped spinning. Then your eyes drift down. Your legs break the surface as you stretch them, and that's when you notice the hair. Just a little, but enough to catch the light. Your leg hair's grown back, faint but visible. You lift your arm to wipe at your brow, and sure enough—your armpit hair's creeping back in as well. Not as thick as it used to be, but not gone. Lower down, you can feel your pubic hair, trying to reclaim space. You sigh and sink a little deeper into the water, staring at the ceiling. You shaved just a little over a week ago. The first time you did anything that made you pause and wonder if you'd crossed some kind of line. You told yourself it was just about comfort, or curiosity, or maybe even defiance—like you were trying to remind the $referto that you were still in control. But now? You're not sure where that line is anymore. You tilt your head against the edge of the tub, water sloshing gently around your shoulders. You didn't hate the feeling of being smooth. It was weird, sure, but you didn't hate it. And now you're wondering if you should do it again. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You ease deeper into the bath, the heat soaking into your skin. The steam fogs up the mirror, softening everything into a blur. It's quiet here in a way the rest of the world hasn't felt since the $referto. Your gaze drifts downward as you stretch your legs beneath the water, watching the ripples catch the soft glow of the bathroom light. Your skin glistens, warm and flushed from the heat—and covered in body hair. Your legs, your armpits, even down below—all of it unchanged. All of it still there. It catches you off guard. You've changed so much, but this? This part hasn't moved at all. The hair still grows like it always did. Rough and thick. You swallow hard and run your fingers along your skin, watching the strands shift under your touch. You hadn't really noticed until now. You'd been so focused on what //had// changed, that you didn't realize how much the parts that didn't feel like anchors dragging you backward. And you wonder: Why //haven't// I shaved yet? Back when you had the chance, you didn't. You weren't ready. Maybe you were afraid. But now? Now the question feels different. You're left wondering: Would it help me feel more like myself? You trail your fingers along your calf again, thoughtful. You're just deciding when you're ready, and maybe you are. <<else>>\ You sink deeper into the water, letting the warmth wrap around your limbs. The steam curls gently up the tiled walls, softening the room, the world, and even the edges of your thoughts. For a moment, it's almost enough to forget just how strange everything feels. Almost. Your eyes drift down, skimming over your arms and your chest, then your legs beneath the water—where the ripples catch the dark patches of body hair that haven't changed at all. Your armpits too, when you shift slightly. It's still just as thick as before. Same goes for everything below the waist—your pubic hair, untouched by the rest of the curse. You stare at it for a second, unmoving. It's jarring, in a weird way. It doesn't quite fit with how the rest of you is reshaping. Like the static in an otherwise blurry image. You remember the choice you had a little over a week ago—to shave. You didn't. It felt like a line then. A point of resistance. One small way to say "I'm not giving in." But now, you're left wondering if you should. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Shave your body" "Day 16 - Shave">>\<<set $d16shave to true>>\<<trackChoice "D16_shave" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't shave your body" "Day 16 - 19">>\<<set $d16shave to false>>\<<trackChoice "D16_shave" false "story">><</button>>

<<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $nude to 0>>\ <<set $nudebutton to 0>>\ You pull on your usual pajamas with shaking hands. You take a deep breath. Then you open the bathroom door. The hallway is dim, washed in the low glow of a lamp in the hallway. The house is still and quiet in the way that homes can be—creaky floorboards, humming vents, and the tick of a clock you rarely look at. You step out barefoot, expecting the usual silence, the same empty house. And then— @@.boy;"$name?"@@ You freeze. Your dad is standing in the hallway, holding a folder full of papers like he was on his way to do anything but this. He's still in his work shirt, sleeves rolled up, tie crooked, eyes tired but locked on you. There's a pause. A beat. And in it, his expression shifts. From confusion to surprise then to something else entirely. He stares at you like he doesn't recognize who he's looking at. You feel every inch of your skin under his gaze—your softer features seeming all the more apparent. The silence stretches before his mouth opens, about to speak. <<button "What will your dad have to say?" "Day 16 - 20">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<if $d16backpack is 0>>\ You slowly lower your phone as your eyes drift toward the garage door. There's a memory tickling the back of your brain. Something chaotic. Something with wheels. You shove your chair and head downstairs, pulling open the garage door—and there it is. Rusted, slightly squeaky, missing one wheel that kind of drags. ''The Shopping Cart.'' It's not just any shopping cart. It's //your// shopping cart. Well... not legally. But spiritually? Emotionally? That baby is as close to family as it gets. You and Lily "liberated" it from Walmart last summer in what she referred to as "an emergency tactical extraction." The emergency? You had dared her to ride it down the sidewalk like she was in a racing game. Naturally, she accepted without hesitation. She launched off the curb immediately, traveling at supersonic speed. A Walmart employee saw her halfway through the dramatic U-turn near the cart return and shouted, @@.boy;"Hey! You can't take that!"@@ Without missing a beat, Lily turned to him and yelled, @@.lily;"I answer to no one!"@@ then bolted down the parking lot as the wheels rattled like thunder. You chased after her, doubled over with laughter and short on breath, trying to reason with her mid-sprint. @@.player;"Lily, this is literally a felony!"@@ you wheezed. She glanced back with zero remorse and shouted, @@.lily;"Well, so is your haircut, $name!"@@ You ended up sprinting three blocks with her driving the shopping cart the entire way home. You kept expecting the cops to show up at your house. They didn't. Probably because they were afraid of Lily as well. After that, the cart just sort of... stayed. It's been in the garage ever since, used to hold sports equipment, groceries, and one time a raccoon. Now? It's your bag. You clear out the junk and test it out, stuffing your notebooks inside with a weird sense of satisfaction. They fit way too well. You push the cart forward—it squeaks like the ghost of every bad decision you've ever made, sure, but it rolls. You take a deep breath, step back, and admire your handiwork. You, $name, are about to stroll into school pushing a stolen shopping cart filled with school supplies. This is going to be unhinged. <<elseif $d16backpack is 1>>\ You stare at your phone for a few seconds, then slowly turn your head toward the corner of your room where ''The Tank'' sits. Empty. Dusty. Slightly haunted. A beat passes. You mutter, @@.player;"No way."@@ But now you //can't// stop thinking about it. The fish tank. The tank that you and Lily once filled with hope, aquatic gravel, and the doomed soul of a fish named Dr. Pickles. It had started off normal—Lily had stomped into your room one summer afternoon, holding a plastic bag from the pet store like it was filled with sacred treasure. @@.lily;"This is our child now,"@@ she declared. Inside was a cheap little betta fish that looked perpetually angry. \ \ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You tried to name it something like "Bubbles" or "Crystal", but \ <<else>>\ You tried to name it something like "Turbo" or "Spike", but \ <</if>>\ \ Lily insisted on Dr. Pickles, because @@.lily;"he looks like he has a PhD in anger and disappointment. Just like you."@@ You both spent an entire day decorating the tank—colored gravel, fake plants, a castle with a hole in it that Dr. Pickles never used. Lily said it gave him "emotional depth." You said it gave him a hiding spot from her yelling. She called you a "brain-dead clownfish" and threw a gummy worm at you. Dr. Pickles lasted a whopping four days. Cause of death? Unknown. Could've been stress. Could've been overfeeding. Could've been the time Lily tried to play him "lo-fi study beats" and he went totally still for two hours. You held a funeral in the backyard. Lily wore black. You said a few words about how he lived fast and died confusingly. Lily flushed him instead because she said he "deserved to return to the sea." Then you both vowed to never speak of it again. Until now. Now, years after Dr. Pickle's tragic demise, you find yourself dragging the dusty fish tank out of your closet. You blow off a layer of dust and wonder if the water stain inside is actually shaped like a skull or if your eyes are playing tricks on you. You give it a quick clean, toss your notebooks and laptop inside, and stand back to admire your handiwork. A fish tank. A literal glass box of former dreams. Now a school bag. If this isn't peak Homecoming Week energy, what is? <<elseif $d16backpack is 2>>\ You stare at your phone for a few more seconds before tossing your phone aside your legs off the bed. "Bring anything but a backpack," huh? You think for a few moments. You want something weird. Something bold. Something— Your eyes widen as a memory hits you: ''The Halloween Cauldron''. Last year, you and Lily used the cauldron to hand out candy—though, //technically//, she demanded you assist her "as her cursed minion" and you were too lazy to argue. She had wanted to go full witch—pointy hat, fake warts, green face paints—but you'd "accidentally" lost the hat in the dryer two days before Halloween. So she settled for a vampire cape and spent the entire night calling you a "disgrace to Halloween fashion." You wore those cheap plastic devil horns you found in the glove compartment and told people you were "emotionally cursed." Lily took one look at you, scoffed, and said, //@@.lily;"You didn't need the horns for that, loser."@@// Then she told every trick-or-treater you were her "hunchbacked goblin assistant" and made you cackle dramatically every time she dropped candy in their buckets. You did it once. She said it was pathetic. After the last group of kids left, you dumped all the leftover candy into the cauldron, and Lily insisted on eating five mini Snickers "for potion-testing purposes." Then you both chucked the cauldron into the garage with the rest of the holiday chaos. You haven't seen it since. But it's //perfect//. You spring to your feet and head to the hallway. You slip down the stairs quietly and make your way to the garage, heart beating with a strange mix of mischief and curiosity. The garage is cold and dim, smelling like oil, cardboard, and forgotten seasons. You shove aside a beach chair, duck under a string of tangled Christmas lights, and spot it: a battered black plastic cauldron, wedged between an old rake and a dusty bin of Easter stuff. You tug it out, brushing off a few stubborn cobwebs. The faded orange label still reads //Witch's Brew// in Lily's aggressively sharp handwriting, with a tiny doodle of a broom crashing into a tree. You pop the lid open and grin—inside, there's a lone stale peppermint, a broken glow stick, and one plastic spider clinging to the side like it's guarding ancient secrets. It's perfect. Loud. Stupid. Borderline magical. You carry it back into your room, swing it onto your bed, and start cramming materials inside. You barely manage to get your laptop in there, although you make sure to cushion it with notebooks. It barely fits, but it works. When you glance at your reflection, you laugh. The plastic cauldron dangling from your hand makes it look like you're off to Advanced Potions. This is either genius or social suicide. You grab your water bottle and head toward the front door, the cauldron swinging at your side with a soft //clunk-clunk//. Whatever happens today... you're most definitely making an entrance. <<elseif $d16backpack is 3>>\ You stare at your phone. It still reads //Bring Anything But a Backpack Day// like it's some grand call to adventure. And what do you do? You reach for your regular, two-shoulder, zipper-having, painfully black backpack like some kind of functioning adult. Wow. The spirit of Homecoming truly burns bright within you. You zip it up with a sigh, not even pretending to look for a fish tank, a stolen shopping cart, or a haunted Halloween cauldron. You just sling the plain old thing over your shoulder. No statement. No chaos. No joy. Just straps. At least no one will stare at you. After all, why would they? You're just... normal. How thrilling. <</if>>\ <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 16 - 3">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $outfit to 69>><<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Just wear something" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

The hallway feels colder than it should. Your dad stands there, still holding the folder in one hand, his other hand hanging awkwardly at his side like he doesn't know what the hell to do with it. His mouth is open, eyes narrowed—not angry or disgusted. Just... trying to process. It's as if he's flipping through old mental photos of you, and the version standing in front of him doesn't match any of them. @@.boy;"$name,"@@ he says again, slower this time. @@.boy;"I didn't realize you were... home."@@ You stare at him, unsure if he means this minute or in general. He clears his throat. @@.boy;"I mean, I knew you were, I just—sorry. The past week has been difficult."@@ You nod stiffly, but the tension hangs between you. He gestures vaguely in your direction, eyes flicking over you again. @@.boy;"I—uh—"@@ He hesitates, then says it: @@.boy;"You look... different."@@ You don't answer. Not right away. You watch the gears in his head turning, and you can tell he's trying to be careful. //Trying// to get it right. But it's like he's speaking a language he barely studied. He exhales through his nose. @@.boy;"I haven't seen you in a few days. Sorry about that. Work's been..."@@ He trails off again. Two weeks ago, he ''promised'' he'd be around more. He sat with you and Lily at that ice cream parlor and said he missed being part of your life. That he wanted to show up. That things would be different. Then he worked late five days in a row and left before you woke up on the rest. And now here he is. Standing in the hallway. Looking at you like he's not sure if he missed something, or if you disappeared and someone else stepped into your life. He shifts on his feet. @@.boy;"Is... is there something going on? Something I should know?"@@ <<button "Be blunt" "Day 16 - 21">>\<<set $d16dad to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D16_dad_response" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Keep it vague" "Day 16 - 21">>\<<set $d16dad to 1>><<trackChoice "D16_dad_response" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Try to ease into it" "Day 16 - 21">>\<<set $d16dad to 2>><<trackChoice "D16_dad_response" 2 "story">><</button>> <<button "Deflect" "Day 16 - 21">>\<<set $d16dad to 3>><<trackChoice "D16_dad_response" 3 "story">><</button>>

<<if $d16dad is 0>>\ You don't flinch under his stare. He looks at you like he's trying to recognize something—someone—hidden beneath the surface. But you're so, so tired. Tired of waiting for him to catch up. Tired of standing still while everyone else decides how confused they are. So you say it. @@.player;"I'm changing,"@@ you tell him, your voice not wavering. @@.player;"And you haven't been here to see it."@@ The silence that follows is immediate and heavy. Your dad's mouth opens, then closes again. It's like he had a response ready but lost it while hearing your voice. His grip tightens on the folder he's holding, like it's the only thing keeping his hands from shaking. @@.boy;"I didn't..."@@ he starts, voice low. @@.boy;"I didn't realize it was that serious."@@ @@.player;"You didn't realize anything, because you weren't here."@@ It's not cruel. it's just //true//. You can see it land—the guilt, the surprise, the way he suddenly looks ten years older. @@.boy;"I've been trying to keep up,"@@ he says, almost to himself. @@.boy;"Work's just—"@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you cut in. @@.player;"It's always work."@@ He looks at you again, really looks—and this time, the silence is different. Not from shock, but from regret. You step past him slowly, walking toward your room without waiting for an answer. For once, you feel like you said enough. But once you reach your door, you can't help but glance back. He's still standing there. Still holding the folder like he's forgotten what it was even for. And he watches as you disappear inside, the door closing softly behind you. This time, you don't look back. <<elseif $d16dad is 1>>\ You cross your arms instinctively and shift your weight under your dad's confused stare. He's still holding that folder like it might shield him from the conversation to come, like it'll somehow make this version of you easier to explain. You meet his eyes. @@.player;"It's complicated,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I don't really wanna talk about it right now."@@ His brow furrows, and for a second, he looks like he might press—like he's about to ask //what// exact is complicated and //why// you look different. But something in your tone stops him. He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. @@.boy;"Okay,"@@ he says. Not understanding and certainly not satisfied, but not pushing either. @@.boy;"Okay."@@ You nod once and step past him, slow and calm, heart thudding just a little too loud in your chest. You can feel his eyes on your back, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the hallway. But he doesn't call after you and you don't offer more. When you reach your room, you pause at the door, your fingers on the handle. You can't help but glance back. He's still standing there, folder in hand, deep in thought. You turn the knob, step inside, and close the door with a soft click. Some things can wait. Tonight, you don't owe anyone answers. <<elseif $d16dad is 2>>\ You shift where you're standing. This all feels too damn sudden. Your dad still looks like he's trying to put a puzzle together with half the pieces missing. You take a breath. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, voice soft but steady. @@.player;"Some stuff's been happening. I'm still figuring it out. It's weird. I know I look different."@@ His eyes flick over you again. @@.player;"I'm not doing this to freak anyone out,"@@ you say, more to break the silence than to defend yourself. @@.player;"I didn't plan for any of it. But it's happening. And I'm dealing with it the best I can."@@ Your dad is quiet. His hand tightens on the folder he's holding. Finally, after what feels like a million years, he says, @@.boy;"Okay."@@ Just that. No understanding or approval. @@.player;"Well, I'm going to go lie down,"@@ you say after a beat, already turning toward your room. @@.boy;"Alright,"@@ he replies voice low. You walk slowly, the soft creak of the floor the only sound until you reach your door. You glance back just once—he's still standing there, watching, unsure of his place in your new life. But he doesn't look away. And neither do you. Then you open your door, step inside, and close it gently behind you. <<elseif $d16dad is 3>>\ You don't answer right away. Your dad's question hangs in the air like it expects to be answered immediately, like it has earned a response just by being spoken. But it hasn't. Not really. Not to you. You look him in the eye and say, flatly: @@.player;"You said you'd be around more, Dad."@@ That lands. Sharp and sudden. He blinks, caught off guard, like you hit him in a spot he didn't realize was exposed. @@.boy;"I—yeah. I did."@@ You nod once. @@.player;"And then you weren't."@@ He opens his mouth like he's going to explain it away. Like work is a shield he can still hide behind after all these years. But the words don't come. So you stand there. Your dad looks at you and you don't look away. For a long moment, neither of you speaks. His mouth opens slightly as he shifts, like he wants to say something—an apology, maybe, or another excuse he's not sure you'll expect. But whatever it is, it doesn't come out. You're not even angry anymore. Just tired. Tired of having to catch him up to a life he was supposed to be part of Tired of the silence. Tired of him not even knowing how much you've been changing. You nod then brush past him gently, walking down the hallway to your room without another word. He stays there, folder still in hand, watching as you disappear into your room and close the door behind you with a //click//. He doesn't follow and you don't wait for him to. <</if>>\ <<button "End of a long day" "Day 16 - 22">><</button>>

<<if $d16shave is true>>\ You slide into bed, the sheets cool against your skin. \ <<else>>\ You slide into bed, the sheets cool against your skin, the fabric tugging softly against the smoothness of your legs. \ <</if>>\ \ The room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of your phone on the nightstand. It occasionally buzzes with a notification that you don't have the energy to open. You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, a blanket pulled to your chest, limbs heavy with exhaustion. Today wasn't loud. Not exactly. But it hit, and it hit hard. The whispers. The stares. The way Mr. Zhang looked at you like a problem waiting to happen. The rumors ricocheting through the halls, muttered in corners, lies and truths twisting. Jessica pulling you aside. Aurora's warning still echoing in the back of your mind. You made choices—many small, but some not. You didn't think they'd add up to this. Now everything feels like it's spiraling. You pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders, body curling slightly on instinct, like you could fold into yourself and disappear if you tried hard enough. What do you even do? Push harder? Pull back? Embrace it? Fight it? Every option feels like a trap. The $referto didn't come with a manual. No path feels easy. Some part of you even wonders if you're past the point of no return. Your eyes grow heavier. You're not sure what tomorrow will bring when you barely, by the skin of your teeth, made it through today. But one thing's clear: the consequences are here. And ready or not... you'll have to face them. <<button "Drift off to sleep" "Day 17 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> <<if $d16backpack is 0>>\ You roll out the front door and down the driveway with your shopping cart. Its wheel shriek like the souls of the damned. It's almost like it's begging for mercy. That's when you spot Luke waiting at the curb. He turns. He sees the cart. And he just //stares//. @@.luke;"Is that... is that //Maverick//?"@@ he asks, voice caught somewhere between shock and absolute delight. @@.player;"I almost forgot we named the thing,"@@ you respond. @@.luke;"Dude, everyone in your neighborhood remembers his name, what are you talking about? Your mom used to push groceries in it when your car broke down. I saw your sister ride in that thing to piano lessons like it was a royal carriage. I thought you guys... just adopted it."@@ @@.player;"Well, we kinda did,"@@ you admit, giving the handle a small, squeaky shake. @@.player;"Lily says it's legally ours under 'weird suburban street law.'"@@ He walks around the cart, inspecting it like a rare animal exhibit. @@.luke;"You //stole// this from Walmart, didn't you?"@@ @@.player;"I prefer the term 'liberated,'"@@ you say. @@.player;"It was an act of civil disobedience and poor judgment."@@ @@.luke;"I remember seeing it in your garage like... constantly. I thought it was part of your furniture."@@ @@.player;"It's multifunctional. We've used it for groceries, storage, and a defensive barrier."@@ Luke whistles. @@.luke;"And now it's a backpack."@@ You nod solemnly in response. @@.player;"It's entered its academic arc."@@ @@.luke;"You wanna see what I brought?"@@ Luke says, grinning. It's clear he's just itching to show you. @@.player;"What is it?"@@ you ask, a hint of exasperation in your voice. You can already tell it's going to be something stupid. With a flourish, Luke pulls out a fucking leaf blower. An actual, slightly busted, battery-operated leaf blower. The front chute is neatly plugged with a foam cap—probably from an old Nerf football. Your brain short-circuits trying to understand the logistics until he lifts it slightly, revealing that he's hollowed out the intake chamber and stuffed his notebooks, calculator, and what looks like a pencil pouch wedged in. The inside is reinforced with duct tape and lined with bubble wrap. @@.player;"Luke,"@@ you say slowly, @@.player;"why?"@@ @@.luke;"Because what's more powerful than knowledge?"@@ He taps the side of the machine. @@.luke;"Applied knowledge. This bad boy's blowing away ignorance and raising Pacific Crest's average GPA by at least, like, 0.2."@@ @@.player;"God knows we need it,"@@ you respond. You both stand there for a beat, two complete disasters holding a shopping cart and a decommissioned leaf blower like you're preparing for the world's weirdest heist. Luke pats the cart gently. @@.luke;"If this thing rolls downhill, I'm not chasing you. Just saying."@@ @@.player;"If this thing rolls downhill, I'm going with it."@@ He grins. @@.luke;"Ride or die, right?"@@ You shake your head, starting to push Maverick down the sidewalk. The cart lets out a metallic //screeee// with every rotation, echoing your dignity as it slowly rolls into oblivion. And together, you and Luke make your way toward school, with no regard for what backpacks were ever supposed to be. <<elseif $d16backpack is 1>>\ You adjust your grip on the fish tank for the fifth time as you finally step out the front door, the cold glass pressing awkwardly into your forearm. It's heavier than you thought. Or maybe it's just the emotional weight of carrying your dead dreams in a makeshift aquarium. The morning air is crisp, and the fish tank glints under the soft sunlight, its freshly cleaned walls reflecting just enough to catch the eye. Your school supplies clink gently inside—notebooks, pencils, crumpled worksheets, one stray sticky note that reads "Dr. Pickles, RIP" in Lily's handwriting. You make it halfway down the front walk when you spot him. ''Luke.'' He's waiting for you at the curb like he always does, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, hoodie half-zipped, hair tousled like he ran through a wind tunnel. He turns the second he hears your footsteps. Then he sees what you're carrying. He blinks. Once. Twice. And then he bursts into laughter. @@.luke;"Dude. No way."@@ He jogs up to you, practically glowing with excitement. @@.luke;"Is that your backpack? A fish tank? Like an actual—"@@ he leans in, peering through the glass like he expects a live goldfish to be swimming past your math homework, @@.luke;"—dude, you //committed//. I love it."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Well, I just figured if I'm going to embarrass myself, I might as well go all in."@@ Luke grins. @@.luke;"You say 'embarrass,' I say 'iconic.' Honestly, this gives off some mysterious energy. Like, 'Behold, I carry the knowledge of the deep in this cursed vessel.'"@@ You snort. @@.player;"It carries calculus."@@ @@.luke;"Same thing,"@@ Luke says, waving it off. @@.luke;"They both have, like... numbers and stress and stuff."@@ He pauses. @@.luke;"I mean, I don't //take// calculus. I'm in that other one that has the letter that shouldn't be there. Like, why is 'x' always lost? Maybe he doesn't //want// to be found."@@ You snort, but he keeps going, totally serious. @@.luke;"I'm in Algebra 1 right now. Took a little detour getting here. Freshman year I failed a quiz so bad the Scantron machine just //gave up//. Like, it literally stopped grading."@@ @@.player;"That's not possible."@@ @@.luke;"I'm just saying some people are gifted in other areas,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Like I'm built for athletics, not equations."@@ You don't even know how to respond. Then you realize Luke's holding something too—carrying something, actually—and you do a double take. @@.player;"Wait, Luke, what the hell is that?"@@ He beams. @@.luke;"Oh! Right!"@@ He turns slightly to show you, as if he's been waiting for the big reveal. It's a fucking leaf blower. An actual, slightly busted, battery-operated leaf blower. The front chute is neatly plugged with a foam cap—probably from an old Nerf football. Your brain short-circuits trying to understand the logistics until he lifts it slightly, revealing that he's hollowed out the intake chamber and stuffed his notebooks, calculator, and what looks like a pencil pouch wedged in. The inside is reinforced with duct tape and lined with bubble wrap. @@.player;"Luke,"@@ you say slowly, @@.player;"why?"@@ @@.luke;"Because what's more powerful than knowledge?"@@ He taps the side of the machine. @@.luke;"Applied knowledge. This bad boy's blowing away ignorance and raising Pacific Crest's average GPA by at least, like, 0.2."@@ @@.player;"God knows we need it,"@@ you respond. You both stand there for a beat, two complete disasters holding a fish tank and a decommissioned leaf blower like you're preparing for the world's weirdest heist. Luke looks at you, suddenly thoughtful. @@.luke;"$name, do you think Dr. Pickles would be proud of you?"@@ You choke. @@.player;"Oh my God."@@ @@.luke;"He totally would, man. He'd look at you through those little judgmental; fish eyes and be like, 'You're finally using my death for something beautiful.'"@@ He holds up a fist. @@.luke;"For the fallen."@@ You roll your eyes, but bump fists with him anyway. It's ridiculous. All of it. But somehow, standing there with your best friends, backpacks replaced by garbage and nostalgia, you feel alright. <<elseif $d16backpack is 2>>\ You step outside with your cauldron swinging at your side, the plastic handle creaking ominously under the weight of your books. It thunks against your hip with every step, making you sound like some kind of medieval peddler trudging to the market with a sack full of curses and overdue assignments. The morning air is brisk, but the vibe is absolutely unhinged. You're halfway down the driveway when you see him. Luke's standing on the curb waiting like always. He's pacing a little but when he spots you, his face lights up. Then he sees the cauldron. He freezes. @@.luke;"Dude,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Is that a witch's cauldron?"@@ You hold it up with a flat expression. @@.player;"This is my backpack now. I've evolved."@@ He stares at it with something between awe and delight. @@.luke;"This is incredible. You look like you're gonna turn in your math homework and also summon a demon."@@ @@.player;"I mean, that basically //is// calculus,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Ms. Tanaka says 'integration by parts' but I swear she's whispering dark Latin under her breath."@@ Luke starts pacing slowly around you like a crow sizing up a shiny soda can. @@.luke;"It's so... round. And ominous. And it makes this little //bonk// sound when you walk, have you noticed that? Like an evil kettle of doom."@@ @@.player;"If anything in here's cursed, it's the graphing calculator,"@@ you say, sighing. @@.luke;"Wait a second..."@@ Luke says, squinting at the cauldron like he's seeing it for the first time. @@.luke;"Is this the same one from Halloween?"@@ @@.player;"Oh God,"@@ you say, groaning. @@.luke;"It is! It says //Witch's Brew// right there. This is Lily's cauldron!"@@ he cackles. @@.luke;"The one she made you carry around like her goth assistant of doom!"@@ @@.player;"She was handing out candy and yelling at third graders,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Someone had to refill the Snickers supply."@@ @@.luke;"She called you 'my goblin boy' all night,"@@ Luke gasps, already losing it. @@.luke;"You went along with it too! You kept saying 'yes, my liege' like a cursed butler."@@ @@.player;"She threatened me with blackmail if I didn't commit to the bit."@@ @@.luke;"$name, you were the bit."@@ You roll your eyes, adjusting the handle as the cauldron shifts and lets out another hollow //thunk//. @@.player;"How about you stop judging me and show me what //you// brought."@@ Luke shifts to the side with a hoists up his so-called "backpack"—and it's a fucking ''leaf blower''. An actual, slightly busted, battery-operated leaf blower. The front chute is neatly plugged with a foam cap—probably from an old Nerf football. Your brain short-circuits trying to understand the logistics until he lifts it slightly, revealing that he's hollowed out the intake chamber and stuffed his notebooks, calculator, and what looks like a pencil pouch wedged in. The inside is reinforced with duct tape and lined with bubble wrap. @@.player;"Luke,"@@ you say slowly, @@.player;"why?"@@ @@.luke;"Because what's more powerful than knowledge?"@@ He taps the side of the machine. @@.luke;"Applied knowledge. This bad boy's blowing away ignorance and raising Pacific Crest's average GPA by at least, like, 0.2."@@ @@.player;"God knows we need it,"@@ you respond. You both stand there for a beat, two complete disasters holding a Halloween cauldron and a decommissioned leaf blower like you're preparing for the world's weirdest heist. Luke glances down at the cauldron again and tilts his head. @@.luke;"$name, do you think this is, like, cursed? I feel like it's cursed. What if it starts bubbling mid-lecture and I get turned into a frog?"@@ You sigh. @@.player;"You wouldn't last ten minutes as a frog."@@ @@.luke;"I'd ''thrive'' as a frog,"@@ he fires back, fully confident in his amphibian abilities. You shake your head, trying not to laugh as you both start walking, the cauldron thumping softly against your leg and Luke's leaf blower squeaking with every third step. <<elseif $d16backpack is 3>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You step out the front door with your everyday backpack slung over your shoulder. It's black. It has zippers. It holds things. That's... pretty much it. The morning is bright. The air is buzzing with Homecoming Week energy. And you? You look like you're on your way to take the SAT early. You make it halfway down the driveway before you see Luke waiting at the curb—already grinning like he knows he's about to roast you. He spots the backpack. The grin widens. @@.luke;"No way,"@@ he says, as if you've personally offended the spirit of Homecoming Week. @@.luke;"$name, we had //one// chance to be absolute menaces, and you show up like you're doing an ad for back-to-school season."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"I just didn't feel like dragging a shopping cart down the street or cramming my stuff into, I don't know, a mop bucket or something."@@ Luke gasps like you've insulted him and his ancestors. @@.luke;"Wow. You think that little of me?"@@ You squint at him. @@.player;"Wait... what did you bring?"@@ Without a word, he reaches behind his back and hoists up a fucking ''leaf blower''. An actual, slightly busted, battery-operated leaf blower. The front chute is neatly plugged with a foam cap—probably from an old Nerf football. Your brain short-circuits trying to understand the logistics until he lifts it slightly, revealing that he's hollowed out the intake chamber and stuffed his notebooks, calculator, and what looks like a pencil pouch wedged in. The inside is reinforced with duct tape and lined with bubble wrap. Your mouth opens. @@.player;"You didn't."@@ @@.luke;"Oh, I //did//."@@ He holds it aloft like it's Excalibur. @@.luke;"This is innovation. This is legacy. You? You're boring."@@ You blink. @@.luke;"This is why I'm gonna be a legend,"@@ he says, slinging the blower over his shoulder like a weapon of mass confusion. @@.luke;"And you? You'll be remembered as 'that guy who brought a backpack during Bring Anything But a Backpack Day.' Tragic."@@ You shake your head, adjusting the straps on your bag. @@.player;"At least I won't have to lug around landscaping equipment all day."@@ Luke's already walking ahead, leaf blower bouncing against his back, leaving behind a faint trail of chaos. You sigh as you fall into step beside him. Of course Luke would bring a power tool. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - 4">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-exterior.png"> The second you and Luke set foot on campus, it's clear that Pacific Crest High School has lost its damn mind. Students are scattered around like a chaotic fashion show of poor decisions. Someone's hauling their books in a microwave, duct-taped shut and rolling on a skateboard. A freshman waddles past with a giant teddy bear zipped open down the back. One guy's dragging a sled behind him across dry concrete, and it screeches with every step like it's screaming for help. Two juniors pass you balancing their stuff in matching laundry baskets, walking in perfect sync like Olympic teammates. One girl near the front steps has crammed her supplies into a plastic baby bathtub, which she's cradling. And then there's //that//. Dead center of the courtyard, surrounded by a growing circle of students filming with their phones, is a kid—you //think// his name is Mason?—pulling his books in a full-sized barbecue smoker mounted on tiny wheels. Not one of those portable tailgate grills, either. No. That would be boring. This is a massive, blackened, double-door beast of a smoker with visible scorch marks. There's a little chimney on top puffing out what you hope is just water vapor. He's wearing welding gloves and using actual metal tongs to take out his binder, like he's preparing a brisket. Instead of meat though, it's AP Government notes. The entire courtyard has gathered around like it's a halftime show. Someone's chanting @@.boy;"MVP! MVP!"@@ and a nearby girl mutters, @@.girl;"This is like, performance art."@@ One kid whispers, @@.boy;"Did he bring this thing on the bus?"@@ and another answers, dead serious, @@.boy;"Bro, he //is// the bus now."@@ You don't know whether to be impressed, terrified, or both. Probably both. Luke slows to a stop next to you, jaw slack as he takes in the chaos of the barbecue smoker and the crowd worshipping it like it's the Second Coming. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then he exhales through his nose like he just lost the Super Bowl. @@.luke;"...Damn,"@@ he mutters. @@.luke;"I should've brought a kayak or something."@@ You glance over. @@.player;"Regretting the leaf blower?"@@ He doesn't look away from the smoker. @@.luke;"I really do. I thought I was doing something bold. Something different. But look at that guy. I can't even compare."@@ The crowd erupts into cheers as Mason dramatically flips open the top hatch and pulls out a laminated essay with barbecue tongs. Luke winces like he's just been outshined on national television. @@.luke;"I didn't know we were allowed to go //feral// with it,"@@ he says, voice full of quiet disappointment. @@.player;"Maybe next semester, man,"@@ you reassure, patting his shoulder. He nods slowly. @@.luke;"Next semester... I'll bring a Jet Ski."@@ After a few moments, Luke recovers. @@.luke;"Alright, I gotta hit my locker,"@@ he says, grinning like nothing happened. @@.luke;"Coach says if I'm late to first period //again//, I'll be running laps with a desk on my back."@@ @@.player;"Good luck then,"@@ you reply, still entranced by the smoker. With a mock salute and one last squeak from the leaf blower, Luke peels off toward the school entrance, weaving between a kid hauling his books in a traffic cone and another who's just juggling his notebooks with no bag at all. You take a deep breath and start heading toward your own class. But you don't make it far. @@.aurora;"$name."@@ The voice stops you cold—not loud, but clear. Soft, steady, like it already knows you'll listen. You turn. ''Aurora.'' She's standing near the edge of the courtyard, half in shadow under one of the big cypress trees. Her arms are crossed. Her expression is unreadable. Hair dark and curling around her shoulders, tips still dyed that deep violet that makes her look like she stepped out of a dream. You walk over. You don't need to ask why she called you over. Not really. She studies you in silence for a moment, then slowly raises one finger—not accusing, not deliberate. Measured. <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ @@.aurora;"Do you feel it yet?"@@ she asks, voice calm and low, but there's a flicker of something behind it. Not quite concern. Something sharper. You shift your weight. @@.player;"Feel what?"@@ She doesn't blink. @@.aurora;"The shift. The consequences creeping in."@@ You frown. @@.player;"Is this about the $referto? You don't have to keep doing this riddle thing, you know."@@ @@.aurora;"I know,"@@ she says softly. @@.aurora;"But it's more fun this way."@@ You sigh. Aurora steps a little closer. @@.aurora;"You've made choices. Some good, some... desperate. Some you thought you could bury."@@ Her eyes narrow. @@.aurora;"There are whispers, $name. Not the magical kind—the high school kind."@@ @@.player;"The high school kind?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Do you mean the rumors? That's fine. I'll just ignore it and—"@@ @@.aurora;"No,"@@ she cuts in. @@.aurora;"You won't. You think this ends with whispers? The office is already watching you. Teachers are confused. The principal asked //me// about you this morning."@@ Your mouth goes dry. @@.player;"Wait—what?"@@ @@.aurora;"People are noticing, $name,"@@ Aurora says. She steps back, ignoring your question. @@.aurora;"And they're starting to talk louder. You can't disappear into the background anymore."@@ The bell rings. Aurora looks at you once more, eyes dark and unreadable beneath the soft light slanting through the trees. Without a word, she turns and slips back into the courtyard crowd—vanishing between students and shadows so smoothly you almost wonder if she was ever there at all. But her words stay rooted, echoing beneath your ribs like something carved instead of spoken. And the school day hasn't even started yet. <<button "Get to class" "Day 16 - 5">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.aurora;"You still look the same,"@@ she says, tilting her head slightly. You blink. @@.player;"...Yeah? And?"@@ She doesn't answer at first. Just steps around you, slow and measured, like she's observing something you can't see—some invisible field around you that's too quiet. @@.aurora;"This far in and barely anything's shifted,"@@ she murmurs, mostly to herself. @@.player;"So what?"@@ you ask, crossing your arms. @@.player;"That's good, isn't it?"@@ She looks at you—finally, really looks—and there's a stranger kind of gravity in her voice. @@.aurora;"No it's not."@@ That lands harder than you expect. She just gestures vaguely, as if motioning to the world around you. @@.aurora;"The curse doesn't stall unless something's wrong. This isn't balance, it's //resistance//."@@ Her voice dips a little lower. @@.aurora;"You've been pressing against the tide for days, pretending nothing's changing, acting like if you just behave the right way, it'll go away."@@ You open your mouth, but she cuts you off before you can speak. @@.aurora;"But it doesn't go away, $name. It never does."@@ You hate how final her voice sounds. Like something's already decided. Like she's already walking away. Because she is. You don't follow her. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ <<button "Go home" "Bad Ending 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Go home" "Neutral Ending 1">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

After homeroom, you step into Calculus class, still half-thinking about Aurora's warning and the low hum of tension trailing behind you. The classroom is cool and quiet with the kind of sterile calm that math classrooms always seem to have. Rows of desks, whiteboard already marked with dense notation, and—at the front—Ms. Naomi Tanaka. She's young for a teacher—late twenties. She's razor-sharp though, always in crisp slacks and a cardigan like she's ready to explain calculus concepts or sprint into battle. She doesn't waste time with pleasantries. She would never. When Ms. Tanaka starts class, she //starts class//. You slide into your seat near the back as students shuffle in around you, still gossiping about the crazy "backpacks" that people have brought in today. Ms. Tanaka lets it go for about ten seconds before clearing her throat. @@.girl;"Alright class, today we're diving into implicit differentiation,"@@ Ms. Tanaka says, already writing on that board. @@.girl;"if that phrase makes you want to crawl into your desk and disappear, trust me, you're not alone."@@ <<if $study > 95>>\ You straighten up a little, already flipping to your notes from last week. Finally—something you //understand//. At least math still makes sense, even if nothing else does. <<elseif $study > 89>>\ You sit up a little straighter. Implicit differentiation isn't your favorite, but you remember enough from last week's notes to feel confident. You already start working ahead as she talks. <<elseif $study > 79>>\ You blink and hope this is one of those days your brain decides to actually cooperate. You write the title at the top of the page and try to look like you understand what's coming. <<else>>\ You internally groan. You're still shaky on last week's material, and "implicit differentiation" sounds like something that should come with a large red warning label. Your pencil hovers as you hesitate. <</if>>\ Just as Ms. Tanaka is about to start her lecture, //it// happens. The overhead PA system clicks on with a faint buzz, followed by the cool, practiced voice of the front office secretary. @@.girl;''"Good morning, Pacific Crest. Apologies for the interruption. Could we please have $name Yoon report to the principal's office immediately? I repeat, could we please have $name Yoon report to the principal's office immediately? Thank you."''@@ A few heads turn. A few more eyebrows raise. Ms. Tanaka pauses, Expo marker still in her hand. You freeze. The room goes still in that awkward way it does when one student gets called out and everyone suddenly wants to know why. Ms. Tanaka raises an eyebrow. @@.girl;"Well, Mr. Yoon—don't keep the principal waiting."@@ You nod stiffly and gather your things. You feel every eye on you as you stand. Someone in the back mutters something you can't quite hear—your name mixed with a laugh. Luke's not in the class. You wish he were so that he could make a dumb joke to cut the tension. You step into the hallway, the door swinging shut behind you with a soft //click//. And suddenly, it's just you. The long walk to the principal's office stretches ahead like a spotlight. The kind where everyone's watching. The kind where things start to unravel. Just like Aurora said. <<button "The principal's office" "Day 16 - 6">><</button>>

The air in the front office is cold—too cold. The kind of institutional chill that seeps through your sleeves and makes everything feel more sterile than it already is. The secretary doesn't even look up when you enter, just gestures toward the door at the end of the hall. You know which one. You hesitate for only a moment before pushing it open. Principal Zhang is already waiting behind his desk, hands folded over a thick manila folder. He doesn't stand. He doesn't smile. He just gestures to the chair across from him like this is a business meeting, and you're about to get fired. @@.zhang;"Mr. Yoon,"@@ he says, his voice cool, clipped, and sharpened to a razor's edge. @@.zhang;"Close the door."@@ You do. Then you sit. The silence that follows stretches far too long. Finally, he leans back in his chair, eyes locking on you like he's trying to solve a puzzle he deeply resents even having to look at. @@.zhang;"You've changed,"@@ he says flatly. @@.zhang;"A lot. And very quickly."@@ You don't answer. He continues. @@.zhang;"You've gone from being a perfectly normal, clean-cut young man to..."@@ His eyes flick over you—not subtle and definitely not kind. @@.zhang;"Well. Let's just say your presentation lately has raised some //concerns//."@@ Your stomach tightens but you say nothing. He taps the folder once. It's deliberate. Very much so. @@.zhang;"Two weeks ago, you looked like any other senior boy. Now? I've had multiple staff members ask if you're transitioning, if there's a medical record we weren't informed of, or if there's something going on at home."@@ @@.player;"Sir, I—"@@ He cuts you off with a wave of his hand. @@.zhang;"I am ''not'' asking,"@@ he says sharply. @@.zhang;"I'm //telling// you what is being discussed. I'm getting phone calls. Anonymous reports. A parent emailed me last night asking why their son has to share a locker hallway with 'something confusing.'"@@ You feel your throat go dry. @@.zhang;"I, as the principal, have a responsibility to maintain a stable learning environment,"@@ he continues. @@.zhang;"And whether you realize it or not, your new appearance is disruptive. It invites speculation, rumors, and drama. Things we do not want here at Pacific Crest High School."@@ He smiles—but there's nothing kind in it. It's the kind of smile people wear when they know they have power. @@.zhang;"So. Let's talk about what's going on with you, Mr. Yoon. You've been pretending that nothing has changed, but that won't fly here forever."@@ <<button "Stay calm" "Day 16 - 7">>\<<set $d16principalresponse to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D16_principal_response" "calm" "story">><</button>> <<button "Deflect" "Day 16 - 7">>\<<set $d16principalresponse to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D16_principal_response" "deflect" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get angry" "Day 16 - 7">>\<<set $d16principalresponse to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D16_principal_response" "angry" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d16principalresponse is 0>>\ You take a breath, steady and slow. The weight of Principal Zhang's words presses in, but you don't flinch. Instead, you keep your expression even. @@.player;"With all due respect, sir, this doesn't concern you,"@@ you say, voice calm but clear. His brow twitches. You keep going. @@.player;"My appearance isn't a violation of any school policy. I'm not disrupting class. I'm not breaking any rules. Whatever people are saying about me—that's //their// problem, not mine."@@ For a beat, there's silence. You can hear the low hum of the fluorescent office lights overhead. The tapping of a pencil from the front desk, far beyond the closed door. Principal Zhang leans back in his chair, folding his arms slowly across his chest. @@.zhang;"Interesting choice of words,"@@ he says quietly. @@.zhang;"But let's make one thing clear: //everything// that causes disruption on this campus is my business."@@ He stares you down. @@.zhang;"You think you're being clever. Calm. Maybe even reasonable. But you're underestimating how fast perception becomes reality. You walk into school looking the way you do now, and people start drawing their own conclusions. That creates confusion. Discomfort. Instability. And when the hallway turns into a rumor mill, and my staff start asking questions—//I// have to answer them."@@ You hold your ground, eyes locked on his. @@.zhang;"Right now, you're a conversation,"@@ he says, voice lowering. @@.zhang;"If you're not careful, you'll become a case. And cases? Well, those come with paperwork. Meetings. Parent involvement. Superintendent reviews."@@ He leans forward now. @@.zhang;"And trust me—once that process starts, you don't get to control how it ends."@@ The words hang in the air like smoke—professional on the surface, sure, but every syllable drips with threat. This isn't just about policy. This is about making you small. You sit still, jaw tight, heart pounding behind your calm exterior. Principal Zhang leans back, folding his hands again. A smile appears on his face. @@.zhang;"Now. Do you want to try that answer again?"@@ <<elseif $d16principalresponse is 1>>\ You shift in your seat, doing your best to keep your expression neutral. @@.player;"I've just been trying some stuff out,"@@ you say, trying to stay casual. @@.player;"Style, hair, whatever. It's really not that deep."@@ Principal Zhang raises an eyebrow—slowly and deliberately. Then he leans back in his chair like you've just told him the most insulting joke he's ever heard. @@.zhang;"'It's not that deep,'"@@ he repeats, flat voice and icy. @@.zhang;"That's your explanation for why half the school thinks you're showing up to class in drag?"@@ Your stomach drops. He flips open the folder on his desk methodically and pulls out a printed photo from what looks like a security camera still. You're blurry in it but the angle catches enough of your face to look soft in the light. He slides it toward you like a piece of evidence in a trial. @@.zhang;"This doesn't look like a phase, does it? This looks like someone trying very hard to be something they're not."@@ You stare at the photo. You remember you were just walking to class that day. You didn't feel like anything. @@.zhang;"I'm not accusing you of breaking any //written// rules,"@@ he says, stressing the word like it's some gracious concession. @@.zhang;"But you're walking a fine line, Mr. Yoon. A //very// fine line. When a student becomes the center of gossip, distraction, and discomfort... that becomes my problem."@@ You look up at him and see he's not angry. He's //enjoying// this—the control he gets to have and that he gets to decide what's normal or not. @@.zhang;"I'm giving you the opportunity to be honest before this becomes something we have to escalate,"@@ he continues. @@.zhang;"Because once the school board starts asking, it won't be me you'll be talking to."@@ He folds his hands again. Still smiling. @@.zhang;"Now. Do you want to try that answer again?"@@ <<elseif $d16principalresponse is 2>>\ You feel the heat rising in your chest before he even finishes talking. That smug tone and that little power-trip smile—it crawls under your skin and sticks. You grip the edge of your chair. Tight. @@.player;"I'm not breaking any rules,"@@ you snap. @@.player;"I come to class and I do my work. I haven't hurt anyone. You just don't like that I don't look like your idea of what a 'normal boy' should."@@ Principal Zhang's smile tightens at the corners a little. It's just enough to crack the mask. @@.zhang;"Oh, I see,"@@ he says slowly. @@.zhang;"So now //I'm// the problem."@@ You sit up straighter. @@.player;"I mean, you're dragging me into your office and interrogating me about my appearance like I've done something wrong. I don't know. That kind of //is// a problem if you ask me."@@ The silence crackles. His jaw flexes once. Then he taps his fingers against the desk, once, twice, before leaning in. @@.zhang;"Watch your tone, Mr. Yoon,"@@ he says, voice low now. @@.zhang;"This isn't about me. It's about how your peers are reacting. About how your behavior—your choices—are making people uncomfortable."@@ You laugh bitterly. @@.player;"So what? You're calling me in here because someone else feels weird about the way I look?"@@ Principal Zhang doesn't flinch. He doesn't even blink. He leans forward even further, voice dropping so low it scrapes the edge of a whisper. You stiffen. @@.zhang;"I've worked in schools for over twenty years, and I've seen this before,"@@ he continues. @@.zhang;"A student starts dressing and acting differently. Says it's just a 'style thing.' But then comes the attention. The rumors. The fights. The phone calls. The incident reports. And then suddenly, the same kid is crying in a disciplinary hearing, wondering how it all got so bad."@@ His eyes lock onto you, something calculating going on behind them. @@.zhang;"And I don't do messes. I don't do disruption. So let me be very clear: if you keep testing the boundaries—if you keep pushing the school, the students, the faculty—then I //will// respond."@@ He leans back, calm again. A smile returns to his face. @@.zhang;"Now. Do you want to try that answer again?"@@ <</if>>\ <<set $principalsOfficeCG to true>>\ <<set $principalsOfficeCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $principalsOfficeCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $principalsOfficeCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $principalsOfficeCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_PrincipalsOffice">>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - 8">><</button>>

You don't answer. The air between you and Principal Zhang is heavy, like it's been weighed down on purpose—pressurized into something sharp. You sit still. You say nothing. He watches you, waiting, giving you one last imaginary chance to backpedal. You don't take it. He exhales through his nose—not tired, not exasperated. Just... smug. Like this is exactly what he wanted. @@.boy;"Very well,"@@ he says, voice smooth as glass and twice as cold. @@.boy;"I can see you're not interested in cooperation. And that's fine. But let me explain how this is going to work now—since you //clearly// need the structure."@@ He leans forward slowly and deliberately, elbows on the desk and fingers laced. @@.boy;"You are now under ''administrative observation''. That means I've spoken with your teachers. Several of them already had concerns. From this point on, they'll be submitting weekly behavioral and appearance notes directly to me. //Everything// goes in your file. Every tardy. Every dress code technicality. Every instance of classroom disruption—real or perceived."@@ He pauses, like he wants to let that sink in. Then continues, quieter now, each word sharpened to a point. @@.boy;"I don't care if it's an untucked shirt or a whispered rumor in the hallway. If it lands on my desk, I //will// use it. And when that file is thick enough? I'll take it to the district."@@ He straightens, smoothing his tie, voice rising just slightly—not loud but just enough to let you know he enjoys this. @@.boy;"I'll recommend a formal disciplinary review. You'll be pulled from extracurriculars. Reassigned from group projects. Maybe even get temporarily placed in our off-site behavioral track. You know, the place for students who can't quite adapt to the environment here."@@ He tilts his head, mock sympathy dripping from his words. @@.boy;"That track doesn't look good on college applications. Or scholarship paperwork. Or anything, really. But I'm sure a student as capable as you will land on your feet."@@ He paces a few steps behind his desk now, hands clasped behind his back. @@.boy;"You want to look the way you do, act the way you act, and still pretend you're just another student here?"@@ He stops. @@.boy;"Then don't slip."@@ He looks at you like a hawk circling something already bleeding. @@.boy;"Because if you do, even once, I'll be waiting. And I promise you, $name. The next meeting won't be this polite."@@ Silence stretches. Finally, he walks back to his desk, taps a manila folder once, and says—without looking at you: @@.boy;"You're dismissed."@@ That's it. You rise, quietly and carefully. Like the floor might break beneath you if you make one wrong move. You open the office door. Step into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind you with a sound that feels heavier than wood and metal should. You start walking, slowly. The buzz of fluorescent lights above, the muted sound of class happening behind doors you can't open yet. The day isn't over, but it's certainly changed. And so have the rules. <<button "What do you do now?" "Day 16 - 9">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> The cafeteria is louder than usual. Not in the fun, chaotic way though. This is surgical chaos. Focused. Buzzing. Rumors. You can feel it the moment you walk in, lunch tray in hand. People aren't being subtle about it. Heads turn. Conversations hush as you pass, only to pick up again, even faster, behind your back. Laughter flares across the room—sharp and short, the kind that's //about// something, not with them. You keep your head down and slide into your usual spot as the table. Luke's already there, halfway through some chicken tenders. Samantha arrives seconds later, balancing her tray with one hand and texting with the other, thumb moving faster than most people's brains. Luke blinks at you. @@.luke;"Dude, you okay?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, we're concerned,"@@ Samantha says, putting down her tray. She quietly places her phone face-down and looks at you, her bright green eyes filled with worry. @@.samantha;"What happened?"@@ You shrug and stab at your lunch without answering. @@.luke;"Come on, $name. You can tell us, we're your best friends. You look like someone told you your dog just died."@@ You try to stay quiet. You try to focus on chewing. But the noise around you? It's //deafening//. <<if $d8jessicaPlan is true>>\ @@.girl;"—he got pulled out of class. It's probably for that hormone thing Jess was talking about—"@@ @@.boy;"—I dunno, I heard he's on estrogen for a medical issue or something? She said it was private—"@@ @@.girl;"—yeah, like something embarrassing. Like his body wasn't doing something right?"@@ @@.girl;"—so he's not trans, he just looks like that now?"@@ @@.boy;"—well, he acts like it. And did you see what he wore the other day?"@@ Some of the comments are less cruel but the undertone is still there—analyzing, poking, trying to fit you into a story they think they've heard before. @@.girl;"—I heard it's like, a condition? Like his body is just messed up and that's why—"@@ @@.boy;"—Jessica said not to talk about it, so it's probably real."@@ @@.boy;"I bet he //hates// that people know."@@ <<else>>\ @@.boy;"—he got pulled out of class, like called to the fucking office—"@@ @@.boy;"—I swear he looks //so// different, look at this—"@@ @@.girl;"—someone said he's faking it for attention, like, pretending to be trans or whatever—"@@ @@.boy;"—no, I heard he's using the girl's bathroom now—"@@ @@.boy;"—it's gotta be one of those mental health things, right? Like he snapped or something—"@@ @@.girl;"—I dunno, man, I think he's doing it on purpose. Look at him, he wants all of the attention—"@@ <</if>>\ The words are constant and circling. They're flickering just outside your peripheral hearing, like a mosquito buzzing next to your ear. Samantha scoots her tray a little closer, resting her elbows on the table, voice low. @@.samantha;"$name,"@@ she says, gently but firmly. @@.samantha;"We're not doing the whole 'pretend nothing's wrong' thing today, okay?"@@ You keep your eyes on your food. The noise around you feels like it's closing in—every whisper, every glance. Luke leans in next, his usual grin gone and replaced with a rare seriousness. @@.luke;"Did Zhang say something? I always hated the guy. You didn't just get called to the office to talk about something casual, man."@@ You push your tray away slowly. @@.player;"He... yeah. He knows something's off. Or thinks he does."@@ <<if $friendsKnow is false>>\ @@.player;"You know, there's something I haven't told you,"@@ you say, voice low. @@.player;"Something... big."@@ Samantha straightens, suddenly very focused. Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Okay. Well, that's ominous. Go on."@@ You take a breath, and then you say it. @@.player;"There's a $referto on me right now."@@ They both stare at you. Neither of them laughs. @@.samantha;"Is this like... metaphorically?"@@ Samantha asks, furrowing her brow. @@.samantha;"Or are we talking full-on witch level bullshit."@@ @@.player;"Full-on witch level bullshit,"@@ you respond. @@.player;"Something happened at the Autumn Festival with the fortune teller—Madame Serena. She said some cryptic stuff and I've been changing ever since."@@ Luke's eyes widen. @@.luke;"Wait—like an actual $referto or something?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Every time I do something... emotional, or vulnerable, or feminine, something shifts. It's slow. But it's real."@@ You expect disbelief or laughter. But instead, Samantha just leans back with her arms crossed. @@.samantha;"So that's why you've been changing,"@@ she says, like it's the final piece in a puzzle she didn't want to admit existed. @@.samantha;"And... everything else."@@ @@.luke;"Holy shit, dude,"@@ Luke says, his mouth half-open. @@.luke;"That's like—//that's real//? I mean, it makes sense, but still. That's what's been going on?"@@ You nod again. There's a pause. Then Samantha sighs. @@.samantha;"God. First of all, that's insane. Second of all... why the hell didn't you tell us earlier?"@@ @@.player;"I didn't know how to,@@ you begin. @@.player;"I didn't want you to think I was—"@@ @@.luke;"Weird?"@@ Luke offers. @@.luke;"Too late."@@ Samantha shoots him a look, then turns back to you, gentler now. @@.samantha;"You're a disaster, sure. But you're //our// disaster."@@ <</if>>\ \ Luke's eyes narrow. @@.luke;"What does the principal suspect though? Like 'off?' What does that mean?"@@ @@.player;"Well, he said people are talking,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Teachers, parents, and students. He's getting emails. He said I'm causing a disruption."@@ Luke lets out a breath and shakes his head. @@.luke;"Man, that guy sucks."@@ Samantha's face darkens. @@.samantha;"What else?"@@ You hesitate, then finally look up at them. @@.player;"He said I'm under administrative observation now. Basically, I'm being watched. Weekly reports. Behavior logs. Appearance notes. If I screw up even once, he'll escalate it. Try to get me removed."@@ There's a long pause. Samantha's lip press into a thin line. Her sarcasm drops. @@.samantha;"That's not just being a hardass,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"That's calculated. He's trying to scare you into backing down."@@ @@.luke;"Man, he //can't// do that though, right?"@@ Luke asks, brows knitting together. @@.luke;"There's, like, laws and stuff. You haven't done anything wrong."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"But he knows how to make it //look// like I did."@@ No one says anything for a few seconds. Then Samantha reaches across the table and taps your hand once—quick but deliberate. @@.samantha;"He's not going to win. You know that, right, $name?"@@ You look at her. @@.samantha;"You've made it this far,"@@ she adds. @@.samantha;"It's been weird. And hard. And messy as hell, let me tell you. But you're still here."@@ Luke nods. @@.luke;"We've got you, man. If he comes at you, we just gotta come back louder."@@ You stare at them—your best friends are somehow making the noise fade just a little. @@.samantha;"I mean, if it comes to it, I'll totally fake a scandal and take the heat off you,"@@ Samantha says. You can't tell if she's joking or serious. @@.samantha;"I've always wanted to be suspended for something dramatic."@@ You can't help but laugh a little. For a moment, it feels manageable again. <<button "Get through lunch" "Day 16 - 10">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<if $recentTransformation is "breasts1">>\ You look down, having just grown boobs. Boobs. On your body. You can't help but feel \ <<if $transgender > 9>>\ happy for some reason. You don't know why, but you do feel a little happy. <<else>>\ nervous. <</if>>\ You think they're small enough that nobody will notice them for now, but you don't know what you'll do if they grow further. You decide to leave that for later though. <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - 19">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts2">>\ <<set $afterEvent to "Day 16 - 19">>\ You look down, realizing your boobs just grew. You gasp, realizing you can't hide them anymore. This is something you have to address. <<button "Address the issue" "Event - Breasts">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts3">>\ You realize your boobs just grew even more. You have medium-sized breasts now, and they are very noticeable. You've already decided to \ <<if $eventBind is true>>\ bind them so that nobody will notice you've grown boobs. It'll be uncomfortable, but something you have to deal with. <<else>>\ just leave them be regardless of if people notice you've grown boobs. You sigh and wonder what you'll tell your parents. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - 19">><</button>> <<else>>\ You realize you just changed again, but luckily it's a part you can hide. You breathe a sigh of relief. <<button "Continue" "Day 16 - 19">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bathroom.png"> <<set $nextScene to "Day 16 - Shave 1">>\ <<set $bodyhair to 0>>\ <<set $pubichair to false>>\ The water has cooled slightly, but warmth still clings to your skin like silk, leaving your limbs light. You sit up, reaching for the razor at the tub's edge, lingering a moment—breath steady, heartbeat slow. No rush, just your body waiting to be revealed. You press the blade gently to your ankle, drawing it upward in delicate strokes, watching fine hairs swirl away. You trace it, exploring the smooth skin that's emerged underneath. You lean back once you finish, one leg resting on the tub's edge, admiring the uninterrupted smoothness from ankle to thigh, lush and lighter beneath your touch. Then, you slowly raise your arm. You press the razor into the tender hollow and draw it downward effortlessly. Your skin flushes, freshly bare and electric beneath your fingertips. You shave everything. By the time you're done, the water's gone cloudy with tiny hairs and foam, swirling in soft circles. You drain the tub and rinse off under the showerhead, letting the water carry it all away—the stubble and the tension. <<if $femininity > 29>>\ When you step out, towel warm around your chest, the air on your skin feels nice. <<else>>\ When you step out, towel warm around your waist, the air on your skin feels nice. <</if>>\ You take some time patting yourself dry. When you finish, the bathroom is still thick with steam, the mirror fogged—but even through the haze, you feel it. A flicker. A pull. A //shiver// up your spine. Not from the cold but from the $referto. You step toward the mirror, towel still clutched, and swipe your hand across the glass. The fog smears away in a slow arc, revealing your reflection. <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>>

<<if $academic2packet is true>>\ <<if $study > 84>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You crack open the packet, pen already in hand, brain shifting into gear like it's been waiting for this. ''Question 1'': A 5kg object is pushed with a force of 20N across a frictionless surface. What is its acceleration? Easy. You barely blink, solving it in your head. You buzz in, calm and confident. @@.player;"Four meters per second squared."@@ Vincent looks at you, eyebrows raised slightly—not shocked, but... impressed. He double-checks his notes, then nods once. Max, from the front, slaps the desk like you just scored a touchdown. @@.boy;"Boom! And we're off to a strong start. $name, my guy, you may yet carry us to academic Valhalla."@@ You smirk, flipping to the next page. Bring it on. <<else>>\ You crack open the packet with the kind of confidence that only lasts about five seconds. ''Question 1'': A 5kg object is pushed with a force of 20N across a frictionless surface. What is its acceleration? You blink. You know those words individually. You even remember what Newton's Second Law is... probably. You think it's the one about apples? No—force equals mass times acceleration. Or something like that. Maybe. Vincent is already scribbling formulas on his notepad with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb. You glance at him, then back at the question, and write the number 5 next to a doodle of a stick figure falling over. It's... something. You buzz in anyway. Vincent slowly turns his head toward you like he just witnessed someone commit a crime against academia. @@.player;"Seven,"@@ you say, absolutely guessing. Vincent doesn't respond for a moment. Then, in a whisper, @@.vincent;"...meters per second squared."@@ You nod slowly, pen hovering. @@.player;"Right. That's what I meant."@@ Max groans from the front of the room. @@.boy;"We are going to ''die'' at regionals."@@ <</if>>\ <<elseif $academic2packet is false>>\ <<if $study > 84>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You glance at Vincent, who's staring at the first question. His pencil taps against the desk in a steady, anxious rhythm. You nudge your packet slightly toward him. @@.player;"You know, statistically speaking, if we both panic at the same time, we create a quantum superposition of failure."@@ Vincent snorts, just once. @@.vincent;"That doesn't even make sense."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Sure it does. Observer effect: if no one sees us bomb the quiz, did we really bomb it?"@@ He groans, but he's smiling now—just barely. @@.vincent;"Okay, that one was actually good. I'll give you that. Annoying, sure. But good."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"I contain multitudes."@@ And just like that, he's sitting a little straighter. Pencil tapping slowed. Eyes a little clearer. Science might not be his thing. But maybe //you// can be. <<else>>\ You glance at Vincent, who's gripping his pencil like it personally wronged him, and you can practically see the anxiety radiating off his shoulders. You figure a little humor to cut the tension would be nice. You clear your throat dramatically. @@.player;"So... if we fail this packet hard enough, do we collapse into a black hole of ignorance, or do we just respawn in summer school?"@@ Vincent pauses, but you? You press on. @@.player;"Like, if Newton saw how bad I am at this, would he still invent gravity, or would he just—float away out of shame?"@@ Vincent blinks at you. Then groans. @@.vincent;"That didn't even //have// a punchline."@@ You grin. @@.player;"You're welcome."@@ He doesn't say anything, but the slight shake of his head as he turns back to the packet says it all: you've made it worse. But hey—at least now he's distracted. Kind of. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Jump straight into it" "Day 17 - Academic 2">><</button>>

<<if $study > 84>>\ You and Vincent sit back in your chairs, breathing hard as if you just ran a mental marathon. The packet sits between you, half-filled, smudged with graphite and pride. You may just have crushed it. Vincent adjusts his glasses and double-checks one of the later questions. @@.vincent;"Okay. I was definitely guessing on the molecular orbital diagram... but I think I guessed correctly?"@@ You glance at your copy. @@.player;"You did. I cross-referenced the electron configuration and didn't see any errors. You're good."@@ He blinks at you. @@.vincent;"Seriously?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Seriously."@@ Vincent stares at his page like it might start applauding. @@.vincent;"I... think I'm going to cry a little."@@ Max strolls by, flipping through your packet. He lets out a low whistle. @@.boy;"Hot damn. This is the kind of packet you print out and slap on the fridge next to a Nobel Prize."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"We have our moments."@@ Max tosses the packet back on the desk like he's afraid it'll catch on fire. @@.boy;"If we don't qualify this year, I'm filing a grievance with the universe."@@ Vincent sits up straighter, his usual awkward energy replaced by something almost, just //almost//, resembling confidence. @@.vincent;"You know, maybe science isn't //entirely// evil."@@ And just like that, you're pretty sure this team might actually have a shot. <<else>>\ You and Vincent sit in absolute silence, staring down at the wreckage of your completed science packet like it's the aftermath of a natural disaster. A disaster you were //somehow responsible for//. Vincent's glasses have slid halfway down his nose. His once-neat handwriting devolved into frantic scribbles and something that might just be Morse code. You're pretty sure one of your answers involved a cow achieving escape velocity. Max walks past your desk, picks up the packet, flips through the first page, and then //slowly// lowers it. @@.boy;"Wow,"@@ he says softly. @@.boy;"This is... incredible."@@ You look up. @@.player;"Really?"@@ @@.boy;"No,"@@ Max says. @@.boy;"But you //did// spell 'molecule' with a 'k,' and honestly? I respect it."@@ Vincent groans, face in his hands. @@.vincent;"I blanked so hard I forgot how mass works."@@ Max cackles. @@.boy;"Okay, new plan. One of you studies, the other one just distracts the Riverview team with chaotic energy."@@ You and Vincent look at each other. You both know which one you are. Still, Max claps you on the shoulder. @@.boy;"It's not the //worst// round we've ever had. That title goes to the year someone confused Darwin with Da Vinci and said the Mona Lisa evolved."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Okay, that's—"@@ @@.boy;"Me,"@@ Max admits. @@.boy;"That was me. Carry on."@@ And somehow, despite everything, you feel a little better. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 17 - Academic 3">><</button>>

Max lets the last packet drop onto the desk with a groan that echoes through the classroom. He stretches his arms overhead like he just finished digging a trench, not leading a study session. @@.boy;"Alright, scholars of Pacific Crest... I hereby declare the academic portion of our afternoon officially over."@@ Vincent looks up from his mess of notes, half-relieved, half-suspicious. @@.vincent;"That's it? You're letting us stop //without// a timed buzzer round?"@@ @@.boy;"Come on, even //I// know when to give the brain a break,"@@ Max says, rifling through his backpack. @@.boy;"And today, that break comes in the form of tabletop escapism."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What, like Uno?"@@ Max looks personally offended. @@.boy;"No. Like Dungeons & Dragons, my sweet summer child."@@ From the abyss of his overstuffed bag, Max pulls out a beat-up Dungeon Master's Guide, a pouch of dice, and a stack of pre-generated character sheets, many of which have scribbled notes. Vincent immediately perks up. @@.vincent;"Wait, we're really doing this when the Regional Academic Invitational is coming up soon? Like... an actual campaign?"@@ @@.boy;"Oh, it's real, alright,"@@ Max says, setting up behind the desk in the center. @@.boy;"I'm talking a full questline with dangerous decisions and exhilarating combat."@@ You glance around at the rest of the club. Even the quiet girl has pulled her chair closer, notebook ready. @@.player;"You do this every week?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"When we have time, yeah,"@@ Max replies. @@.boy;"Gotta build team synergy. And what better way to understand each other's problem-solving styles than by fighting goblins and emotionally bonding with a sentient gold coin?"@@ Vincent nods seriously. @@.vincent;"Last semester, the gold coin turned out to be evil. It was a whole arc."@@ Max fans out the character sheets on the table. @@.boy;"You can pick on of these. I've got everything from haunted bards to violent warlocks. For today, just pick a vibe."@@ He lifts a hand and grins devilishly. @@.boy;"Choose wisely, adventurer. Your story starts //now//."@@ <<button "A wizard who casts spells via slam poetry" "Day 17 - Academic 4">>\<<set $academic2role to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "A bard who can only play the kazoo" "Day 17 - Academic 4">>\<<set $academic2role to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "A paladin who gets attached to everything" "Day 17 - Academic 4">>\<<set $academic2role to 2>>\<</button>>

Max leans dramatically over the DM screen, his dice already lined up like tiny magical landmines across the desk. @@.boy;"The world,"@@ he intones, @@.boy;"is on the brink."@@ He lets that hang for a moment too long. Vincent whispers, @@.vincent;"Brink of //what//?"@@ Max grins. @@.boy;"Yes."@@ The table groans in unison. He flips open a battered campaign. Binder held today with duct tape, stickers, and possibly magic. Then he clears his throat and launches in. @@.boy;"The Realm of Xasnium has stood in a fragile balance for nearly seven decades. The last great war is fading from memory. Kingdoms broker peace with shaky hands. Magic, once controlled, now flickers at the edges of the world like a match near kindling."@@ He pauses, eyes scanning the table, making sure you're all focused. @@.boy;"But that peace is cracking."@@ His hand moves to the map on the desk—a hand-drawn parchment of coastlines, forest, and cities. @@.boy;"Rumors spread from the shadowed east. Temples closing their doors. Stars disappearing from the night sky. And whispers... whispers of an ancient text long thought destroyed—The Feror Script. A tome that does not teach spells, but rewrites them."@@ He lets the silence settle. @@.boy;"You do not begin as heroes. Not yet, at least. You are strangers. Mercenaries. Scholars. Survivors. But you have heard the same name echo from a dozen mouths in a dozen dying towns: Ofren. A city where something is waking up."@@ Max looks up, eyes steady. @@.boy;"Your journey begins at dusk. A caravan is just outside the city walls of Ofren, taking you and a few others into a place the world has tried—and failed—to forget."@@ He sets the scene, voice dangerous. @@.boy;"The sky is red. The wind is sharp. And Ofren waits."@@ He turns to you. <<if $academic2role is 0>>\ @@.boy;"$name. Your wizard arrives with the caravan. What does the world see when you step down from the cart?"@@ You glance down at your character sheet, then sit up a little straighter. The moment Max gives the cue, you take a breath, summoning the dramatic spirit of the great poets of history. Then you begin: @@.player;"I step down slow, with a boot full of sand, A book on my back, and a plan in my hand. They call me Rhombulus—the Rhymer, that's right, My spells are in stanza, and my scrolls? Pure spite."@@ Vincent has to stop himself from laughing. Someone at the far end of the table mutters, @@.boy;"No //way// this is real."@@ You keep going, eyes fixed on Max. @@.player;"I once lit an orc on fire with verse, and healed a queen's sprain with a half-written curse. I don't deal in whispers—I cast when I speak I rhyme in my sleep and I rhyme when I sneak."@@ Max raises an eyebrow. @@.boy;"Do you rhyme even in combat, Rhombulus?"@@ @@.player;"If I must—then prepare for a thrill, It's how I survived... and how I still will."@@ Max leans back. He's clearly impressed but doing his best to look impartial. @@.boy;"Alright, Rhombulus,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"Your boots hit the earth just outside Ofren's gate. The air is dry. The city looms ahead. You feel it in your bones: something isn't right."@@ He glances around the table. @@.boy;"The rest of you arrive soon after. But for now... Rhombulus stands alone."@@ And just like that, the campaign has begun. Max leans forward behind the DM screen, his fingers steepled, eyes sharp. @@.boy;"The dirt road winds beneath Rhombulus' boots, cracked and dry under the fading sun. Ahead, Ofren looms—its stone walls blotting out the light, its gate half open. The air tastes of metal and ash."@@ @@.boy;"To your left: a wooden post, covered in torn notices and hastily scribbled warnings. To your right: a narrow footpath that dips into a shadowed grove. Behind you: the creaking caravan pulling away without a second glance."@@ Max lifts his gaze to you. @@.boy;"Rhombulus stands at the edge of the unknown. What do you do, lone poet of arcane tone?"@@ The table goes quiet. It's your turn to let Rhombulus act. <<elseif $academic2role is 1>>\ @@.boy;"$name. Your bard arrives with the caravan. What does the world see when you step down from the cart?"@@ You glance down at your character sheet. Radarys the Resonant. Bard. No formal training. Proficient in Kazoo. Possesses... no actual kazoo. You sit up a little straighter. You raise an imaginary instrument to your lips and make a noise that is half kazoo, half air horn, and fully cursed. @@.player;"BWAAAAHP."@@ Vincent chokes on his water. You stand in the spotlight of your own delusion and begin your character's entrance monologue with full confidence. @@.player;"I arrive in a burst of wind and musical genius. My name is Radarys. Bard and wanderer. I am the chosen one of the ancient windpipe gods, and my kazoo is my sword."@@ Max doesn't stop you. He knows better. You keep going. @@.player;"I don't cast spells. I unleash them. Through pure, vibrating plastic."@@ You raise the nonexistence kazoo again and ''BWAAP'' like it's your war horn. @@.player;"You see, the gods didn't give me a lute. They gave me something better. A kazoo with destiny //and// questionable acoustics."@@ Max leans slightly over the DM screen, eyes narrowed. @@.boy;"So... you're not playing music?"@@ You hold up a hand dramatically. @@.player;"Music plays me."@@ You reach into thin air and mime polishing your nonexistent kazoo. @@.player;"The wind speaks and I answer through spit and vibration."@@ Someone down the table whispers, @@.boy;"There's no way this is allowed in the rules."@@ You stare them down. @@.player;"Rules are for instruments that tune. The kazoo? It //chooses//."@@ Max lets the silence sit for a beat. Then he exhales and flips a page in his binder. @@.boy;"Alright, Radarys steps down from the cart. The city of Ofren looms. The wind dies. The streets are too quiet. You hear your own footsteps echo—almost like they're in tune with something. Faint. Reedy. Nasal."@@ He doesn't say the word, but you know that it's kazoo energy. Max continues. @@.boy;"To your left: a notice board full of ominous postings. To your right: a shadowed grove. And ahead... a city with no music. What does Radarys do?"@@ You raise the kazoo one more time, full of unearned gravitas. @@.boy;"I walk toward Ofren. I bring sound. I bring truth. I bring... buzz."@@ ''BWAAAAAP.'' <<elseif $academic2role is 2>>\ Max turns slowly, eyes gleaming with anticipation. @@.boy;"$name. Your paladin arrives with the caravan. What does the world see when you step down from the cart?"@@ You glance down at your sheet—your name is emblazoned at the top in proud, slightly-smudged Sharpie: Sir Cedric of Thistlebrook, Protector of the Meek, Feeler of Feelings. You sit up a little straighter and clear your throat, already committing emotionally to a fictional role harder than you ever have to a group project. @@.player;"I, Sir Cedric, dismount with reverence,"@@ you say, voice firm but gentle. @@.player;"I bow to the cart horse—my steadfast companion of the past few miles—and whisper a soft thank-you for its bravery."@@ Vincent already looks concerned. Max gestures for you to continue. @@.player;"I survey the land not for battle, but for potential friendships. I adjust my armor, which squeaks because it's not broken in yet. And when I step down onto the dirt road, I pause to name a small rock by my boot. Gregory."@@ Max bites his lip, trying to suppress a smile. @@.boy;"And what does Sir Cedric do next?"@@ @@.player;"I vow to protect all who cannot protect themselves: the weak, the innocent, and those who have been cruelly overlooked by fate, like that poor lonely flower over there. I swear I'll write it a poem later."@@ Vincent mutters, @@.vincent;"Oh God, he's going to end up hugging a demon, isn't he?"@@ Max leans into the world-building. @@.boy;"The wind blows sharp from the east. You see the city of Ofren ahead—its gates half-open, as if caught between welcome and warning. The caravan behind you rolls on, leaving dust in its wake. To your left: a weathered notice board. To your right: a grove shadowed by gnarled trees. Ahead: the city, still and waiting."@@ Max looks up. @@.boy;"Sir Cedric stands at the edge of Ofren. What do you do?"@@ You square your shoulders and raise an invisible sword reverently. @@.player;"I take a deep breath and whisper a prayer to the god of kindness and conflict resolution. I gently touch the ground with my gauntlet and say, 'Do not worry, earth. I walk gently upon thee.' Then I stride forth."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Approach the city gate and enter Ofren" "Day 17 - Academic 5">><</button>>

<<if $academic2role is 0>>\ Max gives a subtle nod as you make your choice, and the entire room leans in ever so slightly. Even Vincent sets down his pencil, waiting. @@.boy;"Rhombulus steps toward the gate,"@@ Max narrates, his voice smooth and steady. @@.boy;"The road crunches underfoot. The guards aren't at their posts. The torches are lit, sure, but flicker with no wind. Something's wrong."@@ All eyes turn to you. You sit up a little straighter with one hand raised like you're casting a spell. @@.player;"Stone walls rise like the verses I write, Old and cold and craving light. A silence here that feels too deep— A city caught half asleep."@@ Max nods solemnly. @@.boy;"You step through the gate. Your boots hit cobblestone slick with damp poss. Inside Ofren, buildings lean in like they're listening. Shutters rattle on windows that shouldn't be open. A single sign swings from rusty chains above an old inn—"@@ He flips a page in his binder. @@.boy;"//The Quiet Lantern.//"@@ Someone at the table shivers. @@.boy;"And from somewhere deep in the city... you hear it. Not a scream. Not a voice. Just... breathing. Like the walls themselves exhale."@@ You're about to speak again, your next rhyme already forming in your mind— @@.player;"If shadows speak, then speak they must. I'll turn their whispers into dust—"@@ <<elseif $academic2role is 1>>\ Max gives a subtle nod as you make your choice, and the entire room leans in ever so slightly. Even Vincent sets down his pencil, eyes wide with the kind of wary anticipation usually reserved for science experiments and small explosions. @@.boy;"Radarys steps toward the gate,"@@ Max narrates, his voice steady and cinematic. @@.boy;"The road crunches underfoot. The guards aren't at their posts. The torches are lit, sure—but they flicker despite the stillness. Something is ''definitely'' wrong."@@ All eyes turn to you. You sit up a little straighter, raise an invisible kazoo to your lips, and let out a long, dramatic ''BWAAAAAAP''. @@.player;"The walls are high, the vibe is off, and I smell danger. Yet, I proceed. Kazoo-first."@@ Max doesn't even flinch. He's used to this now. @@.boy;"You step through the gate. The cobblestones are slick with moss. Inside Ofren, buildings lean in like they're listening. Windows creak. A shutter bangs once—then stillness."@@ He flips a page in his binder. @@.boy;"A single inn sign swings above the narrow street. //The Quiet Lantern//."@@ Someone at the table exhales loudly, genuinely spooked. Max lowers his voice. @@.boy;"And from somewhere deep within the city... you hear it. Not a voice. Not a scream. Just... breathing. Like the walls themselves exhale."@@ The room hangs in eerie silence. You lift your imaginary kazoo once more and intone: @@.player;"I don't like that. Not one //buzzing// bit."@@ Then: ''BWAAAP''. Max opens his mouth to describe what happens next— <<elseif $academic2role is 2>>\ Max nods slowly. @@.boy;"You pass through the gates. The cobblestones are cracked and overgrown. Each step echoes with the quiet of abandonment. The air is thick—not just with dust, but with something older. Something //unspoken//."@@ He lets that hang. @@.boy;"Windows creek as if stirred by breath, not breeze. A shutter bangs once. Then again. Then stops. You get the distinct feeling that the city is... watching."@@ You lean in, fully immersed. @@.player;"I pause at the threshold. I bow slightly to the gate for allowing me passage and mutter a quick thank to the stone for bearing my weight. I make a mental note to write an encouraging letter to the innkeeper—assuming they're not evil. If they //are// evil... well, I'll just have to offer redemption before smiting."@@ Vincent glances at you warily. @@.vincent;"You're gonna try to rehabilitate a skeleton, aren't you?"@@ You nod with absolute sincerity. Max continues, flipping a page in his binder with flair. @@.boy;"You turn a corner, and there it is—the sign swinging slowly from rusted chains above a half-sunken doorway. The wood is splintered and the lantern is unlit. It reads: //The Quiet Lantern//."@@ He leans forward, voice dropping. @@.boy;"And from somewhere deeper in the city... you hear it. Not a scream. Not a word. Just slow, uneven //breathing//. Like something asleep... or pretending."@@ You open your mouth—ready to declare a vow to protect whatever lives inside, or at the very least offer it tea— <</if>>\ The classroom bell suddenly shrieks to life, cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter. Everyone jumps. Vincent blurts. @@.vincent;"No! Come on!"@@ Max slams his binder shut with theatrical agony. @@.boy;"And //that// is where we end today's session."@@ You let your hands drop to the desk, half-grinning. Vincent groans. @@.vincent;"I swear if something crawls out of that stupid inn next week, I'm lighting the entire place on fire."@@ Max raises a brow. @@.boy;"You're a cleric."@@ @@.vincent;"I'll bless it, but with aggression."@@ The rest of the club starts packing up, already buzzing with theories. You slip your character sheet into your folder. The city of Ofren awaits. Breathing. Listening. Ready. <<button "Go to lunch" "Day 17 - 5">><</button>>

The Academic Club meets in the same dusty, half-forgotten classroom on the second floor—where the chalkboard is permanently stained with equations and the air smells like old textbooks. The desks are pushed into a big rectangle in the center of the room, like an academic summoning circle. <<if $vincentRelo > 19>>\ You slip into the seat beside Vincent, who's already mid-flip through a tattered prep guide labeled "REGIONAL INVITATION." The binding is cracked and several pages are missing. There's a margin doodle of Obama dabbing. This thing must be //ancient//. @@.vincent;"$name!"@@ he says, sitting bolt upright like you just saved his life. @@.vincent;"Good. Great. You're here. This is good."@@ <<else>>\ You scan the room—every seat's taken except for the one next to Vincent, who's hunched over a battered prep guide labeled "REGIONAL INVITATION." The spine is crumbling, and a corner of the cover is held together with clear desperation. There's a margin doodle of Obama dabbing. This thing must be //ancient//. You drop your bag beside him and sit down. He doesn't look up. Just keeps flipping pages, writing something in his impeccably neat handwriting. You clear your throat. Nothing. Alright then. <</if>>\ Max suddenly storms in—tall, wiry, dramatic as always. He drops his bag with a //whump//, kicks it under the desk, and slaps a beat-up whiteboard onto the nearest surface. @@.boy;"Alright, nerds and nerd-adjacent allies,"@@ he announces. @@.boy;"Welcome to Round Two of Operation: Finally Beat Riverview High and Make Them Cry."@@ Vincent mutters, @@.vincent;"They don't even cry, that's the worst part. They just smirk condescendingly."@@ @@.boy;"That's even worse!"@@ Max shouts, scribbling on the whiteboard. @@.boy;"This year, we're qualifying. That means we prep for the //Regional Academic Invitational//—aka the Super Bowl for people who alphabetize their bookshelves."@@ He draws six categories on the board: Math, Literature, Science, History, Current Events, and Logic Puzzles. Then he caps the marker with some dramatic flair. @@.boy;"We've got six categories and a little under two weeks to not suck. So we're splitting into pairs for practice. Vincent—you're on Science with $name."@@ Vincent blinks. Once. Twice. @@.vincent;"...Just science? Not even, like, light history on the side."@@ @@.boy;"Yup,"@@ Max says cheerfully. @@.boy;"Raw, uncut, organic chemistry-flavored suffering."@@ Vincent clutches the edge of the desk. @@.vincent;"I once cried during a physics test."@@ @@.boy;"Then this is your redemption arc,"@@ Max says solemnly. @@.boy;"You are the Zuko of this team now."@@ Before Vincent can say anything else, Max continues announcing assignments and scribbling pairs on the whiteboard. Vincent glances sideways at you, looking panicked. @@.vincent;"Okay, okay, I //technically// got straight As in my science courses. But it was through sheer force of will and unhealthy levels of caffeine. I hated //every// second of it."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"So you're saying you're traumatized."@@ He nods solemnly. @@.vincent;"I still flinch when I hear the word 'lab report.'"@@ Max slams a packet onto your desk, full of practice questions. @@.boy;"Five rounds. Fifteen questions. Buzz in or perish."@@ Vincent flinches. You flip open the packet. The first question is about kinetic energy. The second includes a diagram of a cow on roller skates going down a hill. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Let's do this."@@ Vincent mumbles, @@.vincent;"Please don't let me be the weak link."@@ Max throws a piece of chalk like a baton. @@.boy;"Avengers assemble!"@@ Vincent catches it and immediately drops it. <<button "Jump straight into it" "Day 17 - Academic 1">>\<<set $academic2packet to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Make a nerdy joke to ease the tension" "Day 17 - Academic 1">>\<<set $academic2packet to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $fashion2choice is 0>>\ You don't even hesitate. The words leave your mouth before your brain has time to get in the way. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, voice soft but steady. @@.player;"I'll wear it."@@ Jessica blinks, surprised by how quickly you answered—but then her expression shifts, warm and full of something that feels a little like pride. She hands the dress to you with both hands, like it's something precious. And when your fingers touch the fabric, you feel it. Not just the weight of the dress, but something else. Like maybe this moment has been waiting for you. You don't even try to explain the flutter in your chest, the quiet rush of //yes// that floods in like sunlight through an open window. @@.jessica;"You're gonna look amazing,"@@ Jessica says. You hold the dress a little closer, not like it's a costume or a favor, but like it's //yours//. Sierra nods toward the changing curtain, already pulling out matching accessories like this is the most natural thing in the world. You walk over with the dress in your arms, something warm blooming in your chest. It feels right. <<button "Go to wear it" "Day 17 - Fashion 2">><</button>> <<elseif $fashion2choice is 1>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You look at the dress. Then at Jessica. Then Sierra. Then the rest of the girls, who are watching you with this open, easy kind of expectation—not pushy or patronizing. Just like they see something you're still figuring out how to look at. You run your thumb over the edge of the hanger. The fabric is soft. Lighter than you thought it'd be. Pretty in a way that feels kind of //dangerous// if you think about it too long. Jessica's voice is gentle. @@.jessica;"You don't have to. But I think you'd really pull it off."@@ You hesitate. Not because you don't want to, but because you do. You swallow down that flicker of fear that always shows up when something feels too close to honest. @@.player;"...Okay,"@@ you say, quietly. @@.player;"Yeah. I'll try it."@@ Jessica's face lights up with genuine appreciation. @@.jessica;"Thank you. Seriously."@@ Sierra just gives a satisfied nod. @@.girl;"Changing room's over there."@@ You take the dress and walk toward the curtain, heart thudding a little louder than before. You're not doing this to help. You're not doing it as a joke. You're doing it because, somewhere deep down, you want to see. <<else>>\ You look at the dress. Then at Jessica. Then Sierra. Then the dozen other girls in the room watching you—not with judgment, not even really with curiosity, but with this weird kind of encouragement. You run a hand through your hair and let out a breath. @@.player;"You're really sure I'm the best choice for this?"@@ Jessica tilts her head. @@.jessica;"Well, you've go the right shape for the cut, the shoulders for the sleeves, and the height to pull off the silhouette. We wouldn't ask if we didn't mean it."@@ You stare at the hanger again. It's a nice dress. Not something you'd ever wear, but objectively nice. Still, it's definitely not //you//. You hesitate just a moment longer. Then sigh. @@.player;"...Alright,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Fine. I'll do it."@@ Jessica's face lights up with genuine appreciation. @@.jessica;"Thank you. Seriously."@@ Sierra just gives a satisfied nod. @@.girl;"Changing room's over there."@@ You grab the hanger like it might bite you and start walking toward the curtain. You're not thrilled about this. You're not curious. You're not trying to make some kind of statement. You're just helping out. That's all. <</if>>\ <<button "Go to wear it" "Day 17 - Fashion 2">><</button>> <<elseif $fashion2choice is 2>>\ <<set $fashion2wear to true>>\ You shift your weight from one foot to the other as every pair of eyes in the room lands squarely on you. The shimmering hope and excitement is impossible to ignore. Jessica clasps her hands like she's already picturing you in the dress. Sierra tilts her head, cool and calm, like she knows the answer before you do. You swallow. Hard. @@.player;"Uhm..."@@ You lift your hands a little. @@.player;"I mean... it's... a dress."@@ You say it like that's supposed to disqualify you. Sierra just raises an eyebrow. You glance at the hanger again. The dress is //beautiful//. Light blue with delicate lace, cinched at the waist with a ribbon that catches the light just enough to sparkle. It's soft. It's... pretty. There's a quiet, fluttering warmth in your chest. You try to ignore it. You try. @@.player;"But like..."@@ you add quickly, eyes darting anywhere but the dress. @@.player;"I'm not—uh. I'm not a girl."@@ Jessica's voice is gentle. @@.jessica;"No one said you had to be."@@ You pause, her words settling somewhere deep. Sierra adds, @@.girl;"We asked because it would look good on you. That's it. That's the whole reason."@@ You blink. Slowly. And in that silence, something inside you quietly unfurls. Like the very first breath of winter against your cheek. @@.player;"...Okay,"@@ you say softly. Jessica lights up immediately. @@.jessica;"Yes! The dressing room's that way. I'll grab some shoes too."@@ As you follow her, part of you wants to rationalize this. Call it a favor. An experiment. Something temporary. But the other part? The one that's been whispering all along? It's not protesting at all. <<button "Go to wear it" "Day 17 - Fashion 2">><</button>> <<elseif $fashion2choice is 3>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You shift uncomfortably, eyes lingering on the dress for a second too long before tearing them away. @@.player;"It's not really my thing,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"I'll pass."@@ Jessica blinks, surprised—but she doesn't push. She just gives a small nod, like she heard more in your voice than you meant to give away. @@.jessica;"Alright,"@@ she says softly. @@.jessica;"Offer's open if you change your mind."@@ You nod once, keeping your face neutral as you sit back down. But your hands refuse to stop fidgeting in your lap. You don't look at the dress again. It's like something you almost touched, but weren't ready for. <<else>>\ You glance at the dress, then quickly look away, forcing a short laugh. @@.player;"Yeah, uh... I'm good,"@@ you say, trying to keep it casual. @@.player;"Not really my vibe."@@ Jessica doesn't press. She just gives a polite nod and hands the dress back to Sierra. @@.jessica;"No worries,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Thanks for considering it."@@ You sit back down, relieved—though part of you still feels weird being in the middle of this. Maybe you should've picked another club. <</if>>\ <<button "Finish up with the Fashion Club" "Day 17 - Fashion 5">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<set $outfit to 3>>\ <<set $principalwarning to $principalwarning + 1>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ Jessica leads you to the makeshift changing area—just a curtained-off corner of the room with a full-length mirror and a bench. Her heels click quietly against the tile, the usual bounce in her step dialed down to something gentler. She doesn't say anything at first. Just hands you the dress with a soft, knowing smile. The fabric is lighter than you expected. Soft, layered, delicate in a way that feels almost too nice to touch. You hold it for a second, letting your fingers trail along the off-shoulder neckline, the ribbon at the waist, and the embroidered detailing near the hem. @@.jessica;"...Are you okay if I help you with the zipper?"@@ Jessica asks, voice low and sincere. You nod, just once. You pull the curtain closed behind you and step out of your clothes slowly, your heart beating a little too fast. You try not to look in the mirror yet. You're not ready. Not until the dress is on. You step into it, careful not to tug too hard, and slide the straps into place. It fits surprisingly well, like it's meant for you. It's almost like the fabric already knew the shape of you before you did. Jessica steps in quietly when you call her, helps with the zipper, and smooths out the back. She doesn't joke or tease. <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ She meets your eyes and her voice drops just enough to feel like something unspoken is riding the edge of it. @@.jessica;"You look really good,"@@ she says. Then, quieter: @@.jessica;"Like, //really// good."@@ <<else>>\ She just meets your eyes in the mirror and says, @@.jessica;"You look good."@@ <</if>>\ You don't answer. You can't. Because when you //do// look in the mirror, it's like something slots quietly into place. Not loudly or dramatically—but gently. Like a drawer finally closing. Like breathing out after holding it for too long. You're still you. And also... maybe not just you. Your reflection is softer, sure. But there's a certain strength in the softness that feels earned. The kind that's been there all along, just waiting for you to stop running. <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ Jessica steps back a little, eyes trailing over the way the dress settles against your frame—not critically, but like she's memorizing the moment. @@.jessica;"We can tweak the sleeves a bit for the show,"@@ she says softly, arms folding across her chest. @@.jessica;"But honestly? That's the only thing I'd touch."@@ You look at the mirror, still unsure, still holding your breath. @@.player;"Do you really think it looks okay?"@@ Jessica tilts her head and smiles. But it's not that performative grin she gives in hallways or classrooms. This one's smaller. Quieter. ''Real.'' @@.jessica;"I think you look... beautiful,"@@ she says, and her voice dips at the end like it surprised even her. @@.jessica;"And not just because of the dress."@@ Your heart skips—because she's not teasing. Then she catches herself and laughs once, soft and close. @@.jessica;"I mean, you're kind of glowing, $name. It's not fair."@@ And for a second, you don't know what to say. But part of you doesn't want to say anything at all. Not if it means this moment ends. <<else>>\ Jessica steps back a little and folds her arms. @@.jessica;"We can adjust the sleeves a bit for the show, but honestly? That's all I'd change."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You really think it looks okay?"@@ She laughs once—light, not mocking. @@.jessica;"$name, I think you're glowing."@@ And for a moment, you are. Not because of the dress, but because just for this one quiet, perfect second— You let yourself want it. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ Jessica leads you to the curtained-off changing area with practiced ease, the dress draped carefully over her arm. She's smiling, but it's subdued. Maybe she can tell you're easy. Maybe she's giving you space to breathe. She hands you the dress without a word, and you stare at it for a second too long. Light blue, soft, and floaty. Definitely ''not'' something you've ever imagined putting on—not for Halloween, not as a joke, and definitely not at school. You hesitate, but you also don't say no. Behind the curtain, you change slowly, careful not to wrinkle the fabric. You don't look in the mirror at first—just get it on, zip it up, and fidget with the sleeves. It fits... surprisingly well. Too well, maybe. The thought makes your stomach twist. @@.jessica;"Need help?"@@ Jessica's voice comes from just outside. You clear your throat. @@.player;"Uh, yeah. Zipper's a little stuck."@@ She steps in and fixes it without comment. No teasing. No weird looks. Just a quiet efficiency like this is just another fitting, nothing more. When she steps back, her hands rest lightly on her hips as she gives you a quick once-over. @@.jessica;"Nice,"@@ she says genuinely. @@.jessica;"Good posture. The skirt falls right. I think the sleeves need a small adjustment, but otherwise? Yeah. It works."@@ You shift awkwardly, eyes finally drifting to the mirror. You barely recognize yourself. Not only because you look like someone else, but because there's something so... //different// about the way the dress reshapes your image. It's still you. But not really how you //see// yourself. You rub the back of your neck. @@.player;"This is... kinda weird."@@ Jessica catches your eye in the mirror. @@.jessica;"Yeah. But you're doing it anyway, and I respect that."@@ You nod once, unsure what to say. You're not uncomfortable, exactly. But you're not comfortable either. @@.jessica;"Don't worry,"@@ Jessica reassures. @@.jessica;"We're not trying to make you into anyone else. We just needed a body the dress would fit."@@ There's something grounding about that. Simple. Clear. You exhale, a little of the tension leaving your shoulders. It's just fabric. It doesn't change who you are. <</if>>\ <<button "Put on the shoes" "Day 17 - Fashion 3">><</button>>

<<set $shoes to 4>>\ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ Jessica kneels down with a practiced sort of grace, white flats in hand. She holds one out like she's done this a hundred times before, but there's something reverent in the way she looks at you now. @@.jessica;"Okay then, Cinderella,"@@ she says with a smile. @@.jessica;"Let's see if the slipper fits."@@ <<if $bodyhair is 0>>\ You lift your foot automatically, trying not to overthink it, but the moment her fingers brush your ankle, you catch the pause in her movement. Not hesitation—just noticing that your legs are shaved. Her eyes flick upward, meeting yours briefly. Then, she gives a nod of approval. @@.jessica;"Smooth,"@@ she murmurs, more to herself than to you, and you feel your ears go warm. @@.jessica;"Looks good."@@ She slips the first shoe on gently, then the second, her fingers grazing your skin lightly. It's clear she knows exactly what you're doing, and she's even more aware of the way you're watching her right now. She doesn't say anything right away. Just looks up at you where she's crouched, eyes catching the light. In that quiet moment, you feel something very, very real shift. <<else>>\ You lift one foot awkwardly, suddenly aware of how hairy your legs are. They're //not// smooth, and very exposed now that you're in a dress. Jessica pauses slightly as her fingers brush your ankle. She doesn't say anything at first, opting to just gently slip the shoe on with the same calm care as before. But after a beat, her lips quirk up. @@.jessica;"You know, you could rock the leg hair thing,"@@ she says, looking up at you. @@.jessica;"You're pulling it off more than you think."@@ She dusts her hands together and steps back, eyes scanning you head to toe—not judging, just... taking you in. And the way she's looking at you? Yeah. The leg hair's not exactly killing the vibe. <</if>>\ <<if $feetProg is 1>>\ Jessica glances down and murmurs with a playful smile, @@.jessica;"...Okay, not to be weird, but your feet are kinda stupidly nice."@@ @@.player;"Way to ruin the moment,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.jessica;"I just //had// to comment."@@ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ Jessica kneels down beside the chair, white flats in hand. Her expression is focused. She slips the first shoe on carefully, making sure it doesn't catch on the hem of the dress, then reaches for the second. <<if $feetProg is 1>>\ @@.jessica;"You've got a good foot shape,"@@ she says, almost absentmindedly, like she's already analyzing proportions. @@.jessica;"Rounded toe works better when ankles are this narrow."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Is that a compliment?"@@ She grins a little, but it's all in good fun. @@.jessica;"It's a design note. Don't let it get to your head."@@ <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"Okay, so your feet aren't dainty,"@@ she says, @@.jessica;"but they'll do. We've worked with worse."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Is that an insult?"@@ @@.jessica;"It's a professional observation,"@@ she says, smirking. <</if>>\ She finishes and rises to her feet, brushing her hands together. @@.jessica;"There. You're all set."@@ Just like that. <</if>>\ <<button "Step out" "Day 17 - Fashion 4">><</button>>

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ You stand behind the curtain for a long moment, your fingers tightening slightly around the fabric where it hugs your waist. You've already checked the mirror several times, but it //still// catches you off guard. The shape. The softness. The strange, quiet rightness of it. You take a breath. And then you step out. The room goes quiet—not in a dramatic way, but like a hush that falls when something just works. A few of the girls look up, pausing mid-sentence or mid-stitch. Jessica is standing a few feet away, sorting through fabric swatches, and she actually stops what she's doing when she sees you. <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ Her eyes widen, just a little. Then soften. @@.jessica;"Woah,"@@ she says quietly, almost under her breath. @@.jessica;"Okay, that's a look."@@ <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"You look great,"@@ she says, beaming. <</if>>\ You don't know what to do with your hands, so you let them hover awkwardly at your sides. @@.player;"It doesn't look... weird?"@@ you ask, voice quiet. Not anxious, not shy—just... tentative. Jessica shakes her head. @@.jessica;"No. Not even a little."@@ She doesn't follow it up with a joke or say it like a forced compliment. She just //means// it. You nod, trying not to smile too hard. Weirdly enough, standing here in the middle of a busy room full of pins and fabric scraps, you feel seen. <<else>>\ You linger behind the curtain for a second longer than necessary, staring down at your hands gripping the sides of the dress. It's not uncomfortable—the fabric's soft and the fit is fine—but it feels like you're stepping into someone else's reflection. You sigh quietly and push the curtain aside. The room doesn't go silent, but a few heads turn. Some of the girls glance up from their sketchbooks or sewing projects. Jessica's the first to actually react. She gives you a quick once-over and nods, like she's checking off a mental list. @@.jessica;"Nice,"@@ she says simply. @@.jessica;"The fit's actually better than I thought."@@ @@.player;"I'm glad I could... be helpful, I guess."@@ Jessica catches that hesitation and offers a small smile—warm, but not overly personal. @@.jessica;"You don't have to be into it,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"You're doing us a favor. That's all."@@ You nod, not really knowing what to say. You're not miserable, but you're not exactly joyful either. This isn't //you//, not really. Just something you agreed to. Still, the dress moves quietly around your legs when you shift, and there's a strange sense of calm. Just another weird day in Fashion Club. Nothing more. <</if>>\ Sierra appears beside Jessica with a measuring tape draped around her neck like a statement piece and a pencil already tucked behind one ear. The two of them move into position with smooth efficiency. It's clear that this isn't their first fitting rodeo. @@.girl;"Arms out, please,"@@ Sierra says. You do as you're told, holding your arms slightly away from your sides while Jessica steps in to adjust the sleeves and Sierra takes measurements along the waist and shoulder seams. @@.jessica;"The hem's a little long,"@@ Jessica mutters, crouching to pinch the fabric. Sierra nods. @@.girl;"We can take it up an inch, maybe two."@@ They move around you with the calm focus of people in their element. Sierra gently adjusts the neckline and a couple of the girls peek over, giving quiet commentary. @@.girl;"Skirt flow is good,"@@ one says. @@.girl;"The back seam's a little loose,"@@ another adds. Jessica steps back and tilts her head. @@.jessica;"You're carrying it well,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"We'll tighten the bodice, shorten the hem, and maybe add a little more structure to the sleeves."@@ Sierra's already scribbling notes on a clipboard. @@.girl;"We can do all of that by next week. You free to try it again later?"@@ You nod. @@.jessica;"You made this a lot easier, you know,"@@ Jessica says, giving you a smile. @@.jessica;"Thanks."@@ And somehow, in your own way, you kind of did. <<button "Finish up with the Fashion Club" "Day 17 - Fashion 5">><</button>>

<<if $fashion2choice isnot 3>>\ The last twenty minutes of Fashion Club pass in a blur. You stay in the dress longer than you expected—partly because they need extra reference for adjustments, and partly because nobody rushes you to change. The girls move around you as they tuck here, measure there, and debate whether the ribbon at the waist should be double-knotted. Someone occasionally steps back to squint thoughtfully at you, as if seeing a vision they hadn't expected. Jessica loops back around once or twice, helping with pins or smoothing out wrinkles in the skirt, always flashing you an easy smile when your eyes meet. Not over-the-top or making a big deal out of it. Just... normal. And somehow, even with the dress, you settle into it. It becomes less strange and more routine. It's like you're helping build something real. Finally, Sierra claps her hands once. @@.girl;"Alright! We've got everything we need for now. Great work today."@@ There's a round of applause—half for you and half for themselves—and a general scattering as people begin packing up. Jessica steps closer, holding out a bag with your regular clothes inside. @@.jessica;"You can go change back now."@@ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You nod, taking it. You're going to step back from all this for now. <<else>>\ You nod, taking it. You're going to step back from all this now. <</if>>\ They made space for you today, and you took it. <<else>>\ You never put on the dress, but that didn't mean you didn't help. After the initial wave of attention faded, the club fell back into its usual rhythm—fabric rustling, scissors snipping, quiet debates over threads and hemlines. You drifted into the background a little, offering an extra pair of hands when someone needed help holding fabric steady or passing along pins. You even helped untangle a crazy knot in the trim drawer that had apparently haunted the club for years now. Nobody gave you any grief for saying no. Jessica tossed you a smile here and there. Sierra handed you a clipboard at one point and said, @@.girl;"You've got a good eye,"@@ like it was just a fact, not a compliment. The work wasn't glamorous, but it felt... useful. Like you were actually part of something. Eventually, Sierra claps her hands. @@.girl;"Alright, that's it for today."@@ There is a small ripple of polite applause for the work done before everyone starts packing up. Jessica passes by you as she grabs her bag. @@.jessica;"Thanks for helping out today,"@@ she says. You nod. Even without putting on the dress, the club made space for you. <</if>>\ <<button "Go to lunch" "Day 17 - 5">><</button>>

The second meeting of the Fashion Club is already in full swing by the time you step into the room. The hum of conversation is louder this time—excited, focused, and peppered with the occasional snap of fabric or the hiss of a steamer. The space smells faintly of linen starch and citrusy fabric spray. Tables are covered in sketchbooks, swatches, and safety pins that look like they've seen several wars. Mood boards lean against the room, covered in Polaroids, color palettes, and scrawled notes like "whimsical but structured???" There are at least a dozen girls here today, and they're //all// busy. Some give you polite nods while others just politely look over you once. You probably blend in pretty well. @@.jessica;"Oh, look who's back!"@@ comes a voice from near the window. Jessica, dressed in her usual outfit, waves at you. @@.jessica;"Come on, we've got //so// much to show you."@@ Before you can answer, a taller figure emerges from behind the mannequin—Sierra, the club leader. She's wearing oversized overalls splattered with dye and a black turtleneck. @@.girl;"We're starting to prepare for the Fall Showcase in two weeks,"@@ she says with clipped enthusiasm. @@.girl;"This piece is part of our 'First Frost' collection. Think of, like, shifting light, crisp air, warmth fading into chill, all that jazz. You need just enough shimmer to feel like magic's //literally// in the air."@@ She gestures toward a rack of in-progress outfits. @@.jessica;"And,"@@ Jessica chimes in, sliding up beside her, @@.jessica;"we need someone to model one of the centerpiece looks today. Sierra was //gonna// do it, but she needs to keep adjusting the design."@@ Several of the girls turn to look at you in perfect, synchronized fashion. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You raise your hands slightly, a weak protest already forming. @@.player;"Wait, hold on, I mean—I'm not really the... dress type."@@ But your voice doesn't exactly land with conviction. Especially not with your eyes darting back to the dress Sierra's holding up—the delicate ruffles, the soft blues, the way it sparkles faintly under the overhead lights. You shouldn't want this. In fact, you //don't// want this. Probably. But your heart does this strange little flutter, and before you can process that treacherous warmth in your chest, Jessica's already grinning and giving you a look that says "you'd look so cute in this and we both know it." You mumble. @@.player;"It's just for trying on, right?"@@ Sierra smirks. @@.girl;"Of course."@@ <<button "Accept immediately" "Day 17 - Fashion 1">>\<<set $fashion2choice to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Accept reluctantly" "Day 17 - Fashion 1">>\<<set $fashion2choice to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Protest, but secretly want to try it on" "Day 17 - Fashion 1">>\<<set $fashion2choice to 2>>\<</button>> <<button "Refuse" "Day 17 - Fashion 1">>\<<set $fashion2choice to 3>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ Your spine goes stiff. You blink once. Twice. @@.player;"Uh—me?"@@You gesture awkwardly at yourself. @@.player;"In //that//?"@@ Jessica nods like it's the most obvious thing in the world. @@.jessica;"Yeah! You've got the right frame, and you pull off delicate really well."@@ @@.player;"Delicate?"@@ you reply, wincing. You look at the outfit again. It's undeniably pretty. Blue, soft, kind of shimmery—but it's //definitely// not something you've ever seen yourself wearing. Not even as a joke. @@.player;"I don't know if that's really... my thing,"@@ you start, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"I'm not exactly a—uh—model."@@ Sierra tilts her head, cool and composed. @@.girl;"We don't need a model. We need someone who fits the vibe. And right now? That's you."@@ You don't move. Jessica pouts. @@.jessica;"It would really help. Just for a sec?"@@ You sigh. You're cornered by glitter of all things. <<button "Accept reluctantly" "Day 17 - Fashion 1">>\<<set $fashion2choice to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Refuse" "Day 17 - Fashion 1">>\<<set $fashion2choice to 3>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $occult2question is 0>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You barely even hesitate. The moment Aurora gestures toward the door, Milo's already halfway upright. You don't know what you expected when you joined the Occult Club—rituals? Tarot? A weekly horoscope and maybe some light spooky vibes?—but "expedition" is new. Still... your feet are moving before you can think twice. @@.player;"Yep,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Why the hell not."@@ Aurora turns. She doesn't say anything, but there's a flicker of approval in her expression. Not a smile. Not quite. Just the slightest shift in her eyes, like you passed some test she never told you about. Milo practically hops behind her. @@.boy;"Yes! You're gonna love this. Or hate it. But probably love it."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"That's encouraging."@@ Aurora pauses at the door. She glances over her shoulder at you, gaze sharp but calm. @@.aurora;"Good,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You'll need that attitude."@@ @@.player;"Should I be worried?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. She doesn't answer, opting to just open the door. You take a step forward, not looking back. <<elseif $occult2question is 1>>\ You watch Aurora glide toward the door like she's leading a procession to the underworld and not just stepping into the school hallway. Milo is already bouncing on the balls of his feet like a caffeinated raccoon. You, however, stay put. @@.player;"Okay, hold on,"@@ you say, crossing your arms. @@.player;"Before I follow you into a potentially cursed location, can we clarify one thing?"@@ Aurora stops, hand resting on the doorknob. She turns slowly, her expression the picture of serene mystery. @@.player;"Where are we going, exactly?"@@ She tilts her head, as if the question itself is charmingly naive. @@.aurora;"To a place the school forgot."@@ Milo makes a dramatic sound from the corner. You give her a flat look. @@.player;"That's not a place. That's a concept."@@ @@.aurora;"Exactly,"@@ Aurora replies, like that explains everything. You look to Milo for backup, but he doesn't seem bothered. @@.boy;"I asked her that the last time we went on an expedition,"@@ he says cheerfully. @@.boy;"She just told me, 'When you find it, you'll know.' Then the lights flickered for six minutes straight."@@ You blink. @@.player;"And you didn't think that was maybe a reason to //not// follow her?"@@ @@.boy;"Oh no, I loved it,"@@ he says, like you're the weird one. Aurora simply opens the door, light from the hallway spilling into the dim room like an invitation—or a trap. @@.aurora;"Well?"@@ she says, glancing back at you with that knowing half-smile. @@.aurora;"Are you coming or not?"@@ You hesitate, but against your better judgment... you follow. <<elseif $occult2question is 2>>\ You glance at Aurora, then back at Milo—who is practically vibrating with chaotic energy, already halfway to grabbing his notebook like he's preparing for a ghost hunt. You lean slightly toward him and mutter out of the side of your mouth, @@.player;"Do you //ever// actually know what she's talking about?"@@ Milo beams like you just paid him a compliment. @@.boy;"Nope! Not even a little."@@ You blink. @@.boy;"She once spent an entire meeting trying to summon the //concept// of a memory that had never happened,"@@ he continues brightly. @@.boy;"I didn't get it, but I saw a shadow move across the ceiling and my pencil started leaking black ink, so like... something worked?"@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"And you're just cool with that?"@@ Milo nods solemnly. @@.boy;"She's got the vibes, $name. You don't question the vibes."@@ Aurora, still not facing either of you, says, @@.aurora;"The vibes //are// accurate."@@ You make a face, crossing your arms. @@.player;"Okay, but what if the vibes get us detention? Or possessed. Or both."@@ Milo shrugs. @@.boy;"Worth it."@@ You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Around the room, Aurora moves toward the door. She turns just enough to glance over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly. @@.aurora;"Coming?"@@ Milo's already halfway to the door. And against your better judgment... you follow. <</if>>\ The hallway outside the Occult Club's classroom feels colder than the rest of the school. It's quiet in the way that settles around people. Aurora leads without explanation, the hem of her plaid skirt swaying with every deliberate step. Milo practically buzzes beside her, glancing back at you every few steps like a kid on a field trp he wasn't supposed to be on but is thrilled to be attending. You trail them down the hall, past the cafeteria, past the side stairwell, until Aurora suddenly veers off through one of the rarely-used exit doors. It's the kind that's supposed to be for emergencies, but creaks open under her hand like it's been waiting. Outside, the air hits different—cooler, sharper, laced with the scent of damp earth and autumn leaves. The concrete path back here is cracked and half-swallowed by weeds, hidden behind a wall of overgrown hedges and one sagging chain-link fence that does //not// look secured. It's the kind of spot no one really visits. Aurora doesn't pause. Her shoes crunch softly over the grass as she makes her way toward the tree line behind the east field, where the school grounds blur. Milo bounces after her, ducking under a low branch with the kind of unearned confidence only someone with no sense of danger can manage. @@.boy;"Dude, this is gonna be so good,"@@ he whispers to you. @@.boy;"Last time she brought us out here, we found a mystic tree that might've eaten a squirrel. Still unconfirmed."@@ You raise an eyebrow, hesitating as you reach the edge of the woods. Aurora glances back at you once, the purple tips of her hair catching in the wind. @@.aurora;"Well?"@@ she says, voice calm. @@.aurora;"Don't fall behind."@@ You push past the last tangle of branches, the sound of nature giving way to something... quieter. Quieter than it should be. Like the sound has thinned out around you. Aurora stops just ahead, in a small clearing surrounded by tall pines and a half-buried stone bench, its surface cracked by time and moss. The wind goes still. Milo skids to a stop beside her, his eyes wide. @@.boy;"Woah. It's doing it again."@@ You step closer—and //feel// it. A low, humming pressure in your chest. Like the moment before a thunderclap. The air here is thick with something—not heat, not cold, but ''presence''. The leaves don't rustle. The sunlight through the canopy doesn't shift. It's as if the clearing itself is holding its breath. And in the center is a circle of stones. Small, deliberate, arranged perfectly on the ground around a patch of untouched earth. The soil inside is almost black, and you could //swear// it's pulsing. Aurora kneels at the edge of it, running her fingers lightly along one of the stones. She doesn't look up. @@.aurora;"This isn't a place,"@@ she says softly. @@.aurora;"It's a wound."@@ You frown. @@.player;"A wound?"@@ @@.aurora;"In the world. A tear between what's seen and what's not. It's subtle, but it's open again. Something's drawn it out."@@ She looks at you now. @@.aurora;"You feel it, don't you?"@@ You don't respond right away—but your skin prickles, goosebumps forming along the surface. Not with fear, but with something older than that. Recognition. Milo, standing a little too close to the surface, blurs, @@.boy;"Can I touch it?"@@ @@.aurora;"Absolutely not,"@@ Aurora states. You kneel beside them, staring into the center. There's no glow, no light show, no mana. Just earth. And yet... it feels alive. <<button "Ask Aurora what this place is" "Day 17 - Occult 2">>\<<set $occult2earth to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Step closer and study the circle" "Day 17 - Occult 2">>\<<set $occult2earth to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask if it's actually safe" "Day 17 - Occult 2">>\<<set $occult2earth to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $occult2earth is 0>>\ You glance at the stones again. They're perfectly arranged, too precise to be accidental and too strange to be something as simple as a prank. Whatever this is, it //feels// ancient. Like it was here long before the school, long before you. You turn to Aurora. @@.player;"Okay, but seriously,"@@ you say, keeping your voice low. @@.player;"What exactly //is// this place?"@@ She doesn't answer right away. Her gaze is fixed on the center of the circle, like it's whispering to her in a language only she understands. Her fingers hover just above the dirt, not touching, but rather listening. @@.aurora;"It's a threshold,"@@ she finally says. @@.aurora;"A place where the veil between things is thin. It doesn't show up on maps. It's not on any ley lines. It's more... organic than that. Almost like a bruise."@@ You glance at Milo, who's busy sketching the stone pattern into his notebook with a marker that smells like blueberries. @@.player;"So it's not dangerous?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"It's not safe,"@@ Aurora replies, like that's a different thing. @@.aurora;"But it is safe. For now."@@ She finally looks at you, a calm but purposeful expression on her face. @@.aurora;"I brought you here because it's real. And you've been needing something real."@@ That lands harder than you expect. She rises to her feet, brushing dirt off her skirt, then looks out past the trees as if she's searching for something just beyond sight. @@.aurora;"I'm going to fix it,"@@ she adds, almost like a promise to herself. @@.aurora;"Or at least close it. Before someone stumbles into it and doesn't come back out."@@ You glance down at the circle. Nothing moves. Nothing glows. And yet, you still feel like it's looking back at you. Aurora pulls an old, weathered pendant, a handful of dried herbs, and a silver pen with strange etching carved onto the side out of thin air. She begins setting them on the ground in quiet, deliberate motions. Whatever happens next, it's starting soon. And whether you're ready or not, you're a part of it now. <<elseif $occult2earth is 1>>\ You step closer to the circle. The earth inside the ring of stones is darker than the rest of the forest floor—not just in color, but in feel. It's not wet or muddy, but it looks rich and dense, like it's been untouched by time. Like it's been watching. You crouch beside it, careful not to disturb the stones, and peer closer. No markings. No obvious symbols. Just a perfectly round patch of soil framed by weathered rocks, each one different—some smooth, some rough, one with what looks like a faint burn mark across the surface. The closer you get, the more your skin hums. Not unpleasant or painful, just... aware. Like the static before a radio station tunes in. You don't know what you're picking up, but you know something's //definitely// there. You reach a hand out, hesitating just above the center. You don't touch it. You don't need to. You ''feel'' it. Something old. Something awake. You swear, for half a second, that the dirt pulses—just once, like a heartbeat under the surface. You pull your hand back instantly. Milo leans over your shoulder, whispering, @@.boy;"Woah. Did you feel that too, $name?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"It's... alive."@@ Aurora's voice comes from just behind you. It's measured, like she's been waiting for you to see it for yourself. @@.aurora;"This place was left open a long time ago. By someone who didn't close it properly."@@ She walks slowly around the edge of the circle, not stepping inside. @@.aurora;"It's not dangerous—not yet. But it //is// leaking."@@ @@.player;"Leaking //what//?"@@ you ask, eyes still fixed on the dark soil. Aurora's lips curve into something almost like a smile. @@.aurora;"Possibility."@@ @@.player;"That is //not// helpful."@@ @@.aurora;"It's not supposed to be,"@@ she replies. Then, wordlessly, she kneels beside the circle and starts summoning tools out of thin air—an aged pendant, a bundle of dried herbs, and a silver pen. She places them carefully beside the stones, her fingers slow and precise, like she's done this before. Like every motion matters. The air gets still again. Something's coming. And you're part of it now. <<elseif $occult2earth is 2>>\ You take a slow step back from the circle, the hair on your arms still standing on end. There's no sound in this part of the woods. No birds, no breeze. Just that faint, oppressive hum. It's like the air itself is vibrating in some frequency you can't quite hear. You glance at Aurora. @@.player;"Okay, I gotta ask,"@@ you say, voice lower and more serious now. @@.player;"Is all of this actually //safe//? Like—should we really be standing here?"@@ Aurora doesn't look up right away. She's crouched at the edge of the stone rings, eyes scanning the pattern like it's shifting just slightly beneath the surface. Her fingers trace the dark soil, hovering just a breath above it. She finally responds, not with panic or fear—but with honesty. @@.aurora;"No,"@@ she says plainly. @@.aurora;"Not entirely."@@ You freeze. Milo pauses mid-sketch, looking up like he was just now processing the full weight of that word. Aurora continues, calmly. @@.aurora;"Fixing it isn't risk-free. There are old currents running through places like this. It's like stitching closed something that wasn't meant to be open—sometimes the thread fights back."@@ @@.player;"That's comforting,"@@ you mutter. She glances over at you, something like amusement flickering behind her eyes. @@.aurora;"But it's safe enough. I've done this before."@@ @@.player;"You've closed one of these before?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. Aurora's smile is thin. @@.aurora;"Not //exactly// like this. But close enough."@@ You want to ask what "close enough" actually means, but she's already moving. She pulls tools out of thin air. An old, weathered pendant, a handful of dried herbs, and a silver pen with strange etching. She sets them on the mossy ground with the kind of care usually reserved for delicate glass. Milo leans in, wide-eyed, whispering, @@.boy;"It's happening, isn't it?"@@ Aurora doesn't answer. She just breathes in, readying herself for what's to happen. <</if>>\ <<button "Help Aurora" "Day 17 - Occult 3">>\<<set $occult2helpaurora to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Let Aurora handle it" "Day 17 - Occult 3">>\<<set $occult2helpaurora to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $occult2helpaurora is true>>\ <<set $mstamina to Math.clamp($mstamina + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You don't wait for Aurora to ask. You don't even know if she will. You just step forward. She doesn't look surprised—if anything, there's a quiet flicker in her eyes as you crouch beside her at the edge of the circle. The pendant and herbs are already laid out. The silver pen still gleams faintly, catching the light like it's breathing. You glance at her. @@.player;"What do you need me to do?"@@ Aurora's voice is calm, even. @@.aurora;"You're going to help guide the energy. Mirror me. But don't try to control it. You're talented, but you're not there yet."@@ @@.player;"Thanks for the vote of confidence,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.aurora;"It //is// confidence,"@@ she states, placing a dried sprig of lavender in your hand. @@.aurora;"You're doing something most people would pass out trying."@@ You don't know if that's encouraging or terrifying. Aurora begins moving, her hand tracing invisible lines above the circle's edge with the pen, speaking in a low, steady rhythm—an incantation that feels more felt than heard. You follow her lead, letting your fingers hover just above the dirt, the herb in your palm warming unnaturally fast. And then you //feel// it. Something tugging at the edge of your thoughts. It's a presence—not malevolent, but //vast//. It's a feeling you can't quite describe. Your breath catches. Your fingers tremble. For a second, the pull is too much, like it wants to pour straight through you and out the other side. You start to lose focus. Your thoughts start to fade. @@.aurora;"Ground yourself,"@@ Aurora says, her tone sharper now. @@.aurora;"Now, $name."@@ You grit your teeth and press your hand into the earth beside the circle, steadying your breath. The pressure lessens just enough for you to fall back in step with her. The air hums again. This time it's //around// you, not through. The herbs start to burn softly at the corners, releasing a smoky smell that curls upward and dissolves into the stillness. You feel your pulse syncing to something bigger—something ancient, and not entirely distant. Aurora lifts the pendant, and you match her rhythm. The circle pulses once—then contracts. Not violently or loudly. Just a quiet collapse. And it's done. The soil inside the ring darkens. The stones settle. The weight lifts. You exhale, slowly, your body buzzing like it just ran a marathon through static. But you're standing. And Aurora? She lowers the pendant, breathes out through her nose, and gives a small nod. The two of you closed it. <<else>>\ You watch Aurora move with the kind of practiced focus that makes everything she does feel ritualistic—like this isn't just a spell, it's a language you were never taught. The herbs, the pendant, and that glinting silver pen are arranged in a careful triangle around the circle, each placed with almost surgical precision. She doesn't rush. You glance at Milo, who's sitting cross-legged a few feet away, watching with wide eyes. You could offer to help. Could step forward, kneel beside her, ask what to do. But something about the way Aurora is moving—her posture, the set of her jaw, the way her eyes narrow just slightly as she kneels—tells you she's already deciding this is hers to handle. So you sit back. And let her. Aurora lowers the pendant into the center of the circle first, letting it rest on the soil with a near-silent //thump//. Her lips begin to move, too quiet to hear, the words falling into the dirt like rain. The herbs she scatters in short, sharp tosses—north, east, south, west. The scent of sage and lavender blooms strong, earthy and grounding. The forest itself seems to //listen//. And then—there's //resistance//. You see it hit her. Not all at once. More like a ripple beneath her skin. Her shoulders stiffen. Her fingers tremble for half a second before she locks them still. Milo tenses beside you, leaning in like he's watching a tightrope walker start to wobble. Aurora exhales hard through her nose, eyes fluttering closed, and you swear the edges of the circle //shift//. Like the stones are pressing against something invisible. Like the world is trying to close a door it forgot how to lock. Her voice rises now, firm and commanding. She holds the pendant high in one hand, the pen still moving in the other, the air practically buzzing around her. The circle begins to pulse—slow, dim flashes in the soil, like heat lightning under the ground. Then her nose bleeds. It's sudden—a thin red line slipping from one nostril, trailing down her upper lip. She doesn't notice right away. Or maybe she does and just doesn't care. Her eyes are locked on the pendant, her jaw clenched, her hand still drawing in the air with painful precision. You sit frozen, unsure if stepping in would help or ruin everything. Finally, with one last whispered phrase and a sharp, downward slash of the pen— ''It ends.'' The air lets go of you. The humming stops. The pressure in your chest eases, like something exhaled all at once. The soil in the circle darkens slightly, no longer pulsing, no longer... aware. It's just dirt now. Aurora's arm drops. The pendant clatters softly to the ground. She stays kneeling, head bowed, one hand braced against the earth, the other wiping the blood from under her nose with the back of her sleeve. She doesn't speak. Not yet. But the wound is closed. And she did it all by herself. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 17 - Occult 4">><</button>>

<<if $occult2helpaurora is true>>\ @@.aurora;"No blood this time,"@@ she says. You blink. @@.player;"Wait, that was—?"@@ She waves a hand. @@.aurora;"Nothing. Point is, you helped stabilize it."@@ Milo, wide-eyed and now several pages deep into sketching the circle from memory, lets out a low whistle. @@.boy;"Dude. You glowed."@@ You didn't. Probably. But your fingers are still warm, and your heartbeat hasn't quite come down yet. Aurora gathers the tool carefully, her movements slower now, but not strained. She grips the pen and the pendant with a quiet reverence. Then she straightens, brushing the dirt from her skirt. @@.aurora;"We should go,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"There's time before the bell, and I need to rebind the tools before the energy settles too far."@@ You glance back once more at the now-silent circle of earth. Whatever it was, you helped seal it. It wasn't perfect, and it definitely wasn't clean. But you did it. Together. And something inside you knows—you //could// do more. One day. <<else>>\ The silence after the ritual feels ''loud''. The forest is still again—//actually// still this time. No hum, no pulse, no unseen weight pressing against your ribcage. Just the sound of your own breath, and the faint rustle of wind through leaves that suddenly remember how to move. Aurora stays kneeling, her head bowed, one hand braced on the ground like she's anchoring herself. The other trembles slightly as it wipes the streak of blood from under her nose with a practiced sort of grace, like this isn't the first time she's pushed herself so far. Milo scrambles toward her the second the circle fades. @@.boy;"Aurora—hey—are you okay? That was like—//actual// blood. That's not, like, supposed to happen, right?"@@ He drops to one knee beside her, wide-eyed, one hand hovering like he wants to help but doesn't quite know how to. @@.boy;"Do you need water? Bandages? A trauma blanket? I don't //have// one, but I could find one—probably—"@@ Aurora holds up a hand, still breathing hard. @@.aurora;"I'm fine."@@ @@.boy;"Aurora, you are //not// fine,"@@ Milo blurts. @@.boy;"You bled out of your //face//, and you look like you're about to fall over."@@ She exhales slowly, finally pushing herself upright with a small wince. @@.aurora;"It's just feedback. The circle was more resistant than I expected."@@ She glances at you briefly. Just enough to acknowledge your presence. @@.aurora;"But it's closed now. That's what matters."@@ You nod, still watching her carefully. She's steadier now. No shake in her voice. No panic. Still, Milo hovers like she might dissolve into smoke if he looks away for too long. Aurora adjusts her skirt, grips the silver pen and pendant, and finally stands fully. She brushes the dirt from her knees and turns back toward the trail. @@.aurora;"We should return to the club room,"@@ she says simply, already starting to walk. @@.aurora;"There's time before the bell, and I need to rebind the tools before the energy settles too far."@@ Milo shoots you a look that's 20% worry, 80% confusion, but he doesn't argue. He just jogs to catch up with her, still talking rapid-fire about magical safety protocol and maybe making an emergency kit. You glance back at the circle one last time—now just a patch of oddly dark soil in an ordinary clearing. No hum. No pulse. Whatever it was... it's gone. Aurora made sure of that. And now you follow her, back through the brush, toward the school. Toward normal. <</if>>\ <<button "Get back to the club room" "Day 17 - Occult 5">><</button>>

<<if $occult2helpaurora is true>>\ Back in the club room, the shift in atmosphere is almost jarring. The woods felt distant and heavy. Alive with that strange, buzzing magic that left your chest tight. But now, under the hum of the flickering fluorescent lights and the faint scent of incense that never really fades from the carpet, it's like stepping out of a dream. The only thing that feels different is //you//. She summons the used tools, grabbing them out of nowhere, and begins quietly sorting through them. The herbs are now brittle and half-burned. The pendant, faintly warm. The pen, still gleaming. There's no weakness, because she didn't do it alone. Milo is bouncing beside the desk, practically vibrating with leftover adrenaline. @@.boy;"Okay, that was insane,"@@ he says, wide-eyed. @@.boy;"You were glowing. I swear you were glowing. Both of you. It was like some Sailor Moon team-up, but way moodier."@@ Aurora doesn't respond right away. She finishes sorting, then sits cross-legged on the rug like she's centering herself. @@.aurora;"The threshold is sealed,"@@ she says steadily. @@.aurora;"No rift. No pull. It's quiet now."@@ Milo flops down dramatically next to the bookshelf. @@.boy;"Okay, but, uh—what was it? Just a... hole in the world?"@@ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"A fracture. Not a doorway. But it could have become one."@@ She looks at you then—eyes unreadable, voice softer. @@.aurora;"It responded to //both// of us. That's rare."@@ You sit on the edge of the rug, fingers still tingling slightly. You don't say it out loud, but the magic felt like it recognized you. Like it //knew// you could carry some of its weight, even if just for a moment. You glance over. @@.player;"So... we're good? It's done?"@@ Aurora picks up the pendant again, running her thumb over its edge. @@.aurora;"It's quiet now,"@@ she repeats. @@.aurora;"That's enough for today."@@ Milo stretches out on the floor. @@.boy;"Man. Other clubs just hand out stickers or talk about anime. We're out here preventing magical trauma vortexes."@@ Aurora lifts an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"We're doing this to protect them."@@ Milo just sighs dramatically. @@.boy;"That's fair."@@ The bell rings—sharp and shrill, pulling you all back to the reality that you're still, somehow, in high school. That lunch is next, and there's probably mystery meat waiting for you in the cafeteria. Aurora stands, brushing a faint bit of dirt off her skirt. She turns to you one last time, her voice a little softer than usual. @@.aurora;"You did well today,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You're strong."@@ You meet her eyes, and for once, she isn't being cryptic. She //means// it. She blows out the final candle, and the flame dies with a soft puff of smoke curling toward the ceiling. <<else>>\ Back in the club, the shift in atmosphere is immediate. The strange quiet of the forest, the static hum of the circle, the gravity of the clearing—it all fades the second the second the door clicks shut behind you. You're back in the mysterious room with flickering fluorescent lights, dusty shelves, and mystic artifacts. Aurora moves with a slow but steady calm, moving slower than usual as she sits at her usual spot on the rug. She doesn't speak right away. She just sits. Milo, on the other hand, is a tornado of concern. He's already cleared a spot in front of her, digging out a half-crushed granola bar and a bottle of water like he's a nurse. @@.boy;"Are you //sure// you're okay?"@@ he says for the third time, crouching beside her. @@.boy;"Because, like, that nosebleed thing? That wasn't chill. That was scary. It would be what you feel if you did reverse meditation."@@ Aurora gives him a faint, amused glance. @@.aurora;"I'm fine, Milo. That kind of feedback was expected."@@ He looks unconvinced, hovering with the water bottle. @@.boy;"Expected doesn't mean good, Aurora."@@ You linger near the desk, watching her carefully. She doesn't look as tired anymore, but she's quieter than usual. It's like she's still calculating something behind her eyes. Finally, she speaks. @@.aurora;"The threshold is sealed—for now."@@ Milo leans forward, eyes wide. @@.boy;"So it //was// a threshold. I knew it! You could feel it humming."@@ She nods. @@.aurora;"It wasn't an open gate, but it was fractured. Bleeding energy. Enough to attract attention, eventually."@@ @@.player;"What attention?"@@ you ask, swallowing. Aurora looks at you directly. @@.aurora;"Things that like to crawl through cracks."@@ Milo lets out a small, nervous laugh and mutters, @@.boy;"Okay, yeah, cool, I'm sleeping with the lights on tonight."@@ She summons the used tools, grabbing them out of nowhere, and begins quietly sorting through them. The herbs are now brittle and half-burned. The pendant, faintly warm. The pen, still gleaming. @@.aurora;"I'll reinforce it later,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"It won't hold forever, but it's quiet again. That's enough for now."@@ The room falls silent for a moment—still, focused. Then the bell rings, high and sharp through the walls, jolting you all back to the fact that, yes, this is still technically an extracurricular club at a public high school. Milo sighs. @@.boy;"Man. No one else's club is like this. The photography club just takes pictures of squirrels and eats muffins."@@ Aurora rises, smoothing her skirt. @@.aurora;"Then they are woefully unprepared for the apocalypse."@@ She gives you one last thoughtful look. @@.aurora;"Thank you for coming today,"@@ she says simply, then turns to blow out the last candle. And just like that, the moment is over. <</if>>\ Club's out. The threshold is closed. And the world is, for now, still. <<button "Go to lunch" "Day 17 - 5">><</button>>

The Occult Club meets in the same dim, forgotten room as last time—wedged between the old costume closet and a stack of broken AV carts no one's moved in years. The hand-drawn sign is still taped to the door, curling slightly at the edges: "Occult Club — Enter If You Dare!" You do. Inside, it's exactly as strange as you remember. The overhead light is broken, occasionally flickering like it's got a ghost stuck in it. The space smells faintly of old books and incense. The blinds are drawn. The table in the center is gone though, replaced by a small circular rug. It's surrounded by candles, a few half-melted wax figures, and a suspiciously pristine tarot deck sitting neatly in the center. Aurora is already seated on the floor, sipping something from a chipped mug that probably isn't school-approved. She doesn't look up when you enter—just gestures vaguely toward the rug. @@.aurora;"Welcome back, $name,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"We were waiting for you."@@ Milo's head pops up from behind a stack of old yearbooks in the corner. He's already wearing fingerless gloves and a green scarf around his neck. He grins at you like you're his favorite cryptid. @@.boy;"Dude, are you ready?"@@ he says, eyes practically glowing. @@.boy;"She, and by that I mean Aurora, said we're going on an expedition today."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Like, leaving-the-room kind of expedition?"@@ @@.aurora;"Exactly,"@@ Aurora murmurs, now looking up at you with that unreadable glint in her eyes. @@.aurora;"Today's meeting isn't about rituals or research. It's about exploration. Discovery. And maybe... a little mischief."@@ Milo bounces slightly. @@.boy;"She found something. She won't tell me what it is yet, but it's gonna be so cool. Probably haunted. Or cursed. Or maybe both."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Where exactly are we going?"@@ Aurora finishes her drink, sets the mug down carefully on the floor, and stands in one fluid motion. She looks at both of you like you're about to be drafted into something deeply strange. @@.aurora;"That,"@@ she says, @@.aurora;"depends on how far you're willing to follow me."@@ <<button "Follow her immediately" "Day 17 - Occult 1">>\<<set $occult2question to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Ask where you're going first" "Day 17 - Occult 1">>\<<set $occult2question to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Side-eye Milo and ask if he ever knows what she's talking about" "Day 17 - Occult 1">>\<<set $occult2question to 2>>\<</button>>

Charlotte scrolls through her phone as she paces the front of the room, muttering something under her breath about scheduling conflicts and people submitting blurry photos on purpose. Then she stops short and looks up, locking eyes with you, then Jordan, then Simon. @@.girl;"You three,"@@ she says, pointing with authority. @@.girl;"Same group as last time. I trust you three to get me usable photos, which puts you ahead of most people. So congrats—you are now a permanent group."@@ Simon perks up. @@.boy;"Team consistency is nice."@@ Charlotte nods. @@.girl;"You'll be covering club snapshots this block—Film Club and Sports Club. Get me the best photos you can get."@@ She pauses, then adds, @@.girl;"You'll have access to the equipment cabinet. Grab a camera from there. If someone asks questions, tell them Charlotte said it was fine."@@ She jots something on her clipboard and waves vaguely at the back of the room. @@.girl;"Now, go coordinate or at least pretend to like each other."@@ Jordan looks up from his piece of paper, eyes narrowing slightly—just as he realizes who he's paired up with. <<if $jordanRelo > 49>>\ It's clear that it's just out of habit though. Because when he sees you, his usual scowl dulls almost instantly. His shoulders ease just a bit and he exhales—quiet, controlled, but unmistakably a sigh of relief. @@.jordan;"Of course it's you again,"@@ he mutters, low enough for you to catch the tone. You blink. @@.player;"Is that meant to be a complaint?"@@ He shuts his notebook a little too carefully, setting it down. @@.jordan;"No,"@@ he says, almost too quickly. @@.jordan;"It's fine."@@ @@.player;"Just fine?"@@ you tease, raising your eyebrows. Jordan shoots you a quick look—part glare, part flustered—and then looks away like you've personally offended him. @@.jordan;"You're easy to work with,"@@ he mutters. @@.jordan;"That's all."@@ You smile. @@.player;"Aw. it's nice to get some praise from you."@@ He groans under his breath and mutters something about regretting this already, but you catch the tiny curve at the edge of his mouth before he turns away. For Jordan, that's basically a love letter. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 29>>\ For a second, he looks like he's gearing up to be annoyed—like an automatic reflex he can't quite shake—but it fades before it even finishes forming. Instead, he just huffs quietly, leaning back in his chair and tapping his pencil against the table once. @@.jordan;"Figures she'd stick us together again."@@ He says it like he's complaining, but there's no real bite behind it. Just the usual energy he carries when he's around you—familiar and begrudgingly fond. You shrug, playing along. @@.player;"Guess you're stuck with me."@@ Jordan smirks, just barely. @@.jordan;"Could be worse."@@ You catch the faint smile he tries to bury by flipping through his notebook again. He doesn't say anything else, but the fact that he doesn't immediately shut down the conversation says enough. He's not fighting it. Not when it's //you//. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 14>>\ Jordan gives you a brief glance—measured, unreadable. He doesn't say anything at first. Just taps his pencil against the corner of his notebook a few times before looking back down like you're just another assignment he has to deal with. @@.jordan;"Whatever,"@@ he mutters, almost more to himself than to you. You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Good to see you're thrilled."@@ He shrugs without looking at you. @@.jordan;"As long as you don't screw it up, I don't care."@@ It's not hostile—just distant. He's keeping you at arm's length. It's like this is just another thing to get through. And to him, you're nothing special. <<else>>\ For a second, he barely seems to register you. When he does, he taps his pencil against his notebook, then mutters, @@.jordan;"Great."@@ The word sounds anything but. You fold your arms. @@.player;"Well, it's nice to see you too."@@ Jordan doesn't respond. He just goes back to his notes like the conversation's already over, shutting the door on anything more before it can even stop. You're not exactly surprised. You're just here to get the job done, and so is he. <</if>>\ <<button "Go to Film Club" "Day 17 - Yearbook 2">><</button>>

The three of you make your way down the hall, Jordan walking ahead and Simon buzzing beside you. @@.boy;"Film Club first,"@@ Simon says, glancing at a clipboard Charlotte handed you. @@.boy;"I'm pumped. I'm assuming they do, like, deep discussions. Shot composition breakdowns, auteur theory, you know. They must have a real appreciation for cinema."@@ You give him a sideways look but say nothing. As you get closer, the sound leaking from the room isn't exactly what you'd expect from an elite society of film scholars. It's... loud. Messy. Someone's clearly throwing popcorn. There's yelling about how the poop emoji deserves a spinoff movie. Simon falters slightly in his step. @@.boy;"Maybe they're just really passionate?"@@ You push open the door and chaos greets you. Chairs are scattered everywhere. Half the club's arguing about something stupid. Someone's trying to catapult a gummy worm into someone else's soda cup. And on the massive projector screen? ''The Emoji Movie.'' Specifically, the part where the main characters are dancing inside a Just Dance app. Simon stands there, frozen. Samantha waves at you from the front door. She's wearing sunglasses indoors, half-buried under a blanket, and eating popcorn by the handful. She yanks her sunglasses down to her nose when she sees you. @@.samantha;"Well, well, well. If it isn't the paparazzi. Here to capture history in the making?"@@ @@.player;"This is history?"@@ you ask, smirking. Jordan mutters something under his breath, and Simon is still standing there, clutching the clipboard like it's the only thing tethering him to reality. Samantha beams. @@.samantha;"Don't be shy. Immortalize the moment!"@@ You sigh dramatically and lift the camera. Simon leans toward you, whispering in genuine panic, @@.boy;"I thought this was gonna be, like... Bergman. Or Kubrick."@@ You pat his shoulder sympathetically. Jordan just scowls at the screen harder, like he thinks he can physically will it out of existence. <<button "Start snapping candids of the chaos" "Day 17 - Yearbook 3">>\<<set $yearbook2film to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Just chat with Samantha while Simon handles the photos" "Day 17 - Yearbook 3">>\<<set $yearbook2film to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Just chat with Jordan while Simon handles the photos" "Day 17 - Yearbook 3">>\<<set $yearbook2film to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $yearbook2film is 0>>\ You shift the camera strap a little higher on your shoulder, feeling its weight settle against your side. No way you're leaving Simon to deal with this circus alone—he looks about two seconds away from an existential crisis as he scans the room full of chaos. You step forward, raising the camera to your eye. It's time to work. Simon hovers next to you, looking around like he's hoping someone will suddenly start doing something artistic and profound. @@.player;"Simon, just... start snapping,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"Candid stuff. We'll make it look cooler than it actually is."@@ He nods a little too seriously, like you just gave him classified information. You start taking shots—one of a group slouched dramatically in beanbags, another of a guy trying to juggle three packs of Sour Patch, and even one of Samantha, who spots you mid-Skittle consumption and throws up a peace sign without missing a beat. Simon points toward a group by the windows, whispering, @@.boy;"There! It has natural lighting //and// genuine despair."@@ You snort quietly and snap the picture, catching a perfect shot of two students arguing over whether or not //The Emoji Movie// qualifies as a postmodernist satire. (You think it most definitely doesn't.) You keep moving, the camera clicking steadily as you and Simon weave through the mayhem, ducking stray popcorn and the occasional flying pencil case. The pictures aren't perfect. Some are slightly blurry, others are weirdly framed. But honestly? That's what makes them good. It's a portrait of Film Club exactly how it is—messy, ridiculous, and alive. Somehow, it feels like you're capturing something ''real''. <<elseif $yearbook2film is 1>>\ You hand the camera to Simon, letting him fumble with the lens and start snapping photos of the chaos around the room. You, on the other hand, head toward Samantha, who's still lounging like she owns the place, sunglasses perched on her head and having swapped to snacking on Skittles. @@.player;"I figured I'd leave the professional work to Simon,"@@ you say, dropping into the chair next to her with a sigh. Samantha smirks and tosses a gummy worm into her mouth. @@.samantha;"Good call, $name. He looks like he's trying to compose a National Geographic spread or something. Too bad all he has to work with is Film Club."@@ You snort. @@.player;"I mean, it all started going downhill the second someone greenlit this movie."@@ She leans back dramatically, arms stretched out over the backs of the chairs. @@.samantha;"You joke, but this?"@@—she gestures broadly at the shit unfolding around the room—@@.samantha;"//this// is the purest form of cinema appreciation."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Seriously?"@@ She nods solemnly. @@.samantha;"No papers to write. No debates about staging. Just vibes, popcorn, and the slow death of dignity. This is what film is //really// about. You just don't get it."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Samantha, you may just be the worst critic I've ever met."@@ @@.samantha;"And yet,"@@ she says, popping a handful of Skittles in her mouth, @@.samantha;"you keep sitting next to me."@@ You roll your eyes, but don't move. It's kind of hard to argue with Samantha's logic here. Simon, meanwhile, is still trying to take a respectable photo while someone throws popcorn at him from behind a beanbag chair. Jordan hasn't even moved from his spot by the door, arms crossed so tightly that he might just snap. Maybe this isn't exactly prestige cinema. But despite all that, it's weirdly perfect. <<elseif $yearbook2film is 2>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You lower the camera a little and give it to Simon, who looks overwhelmed but determined. it's probably safer to let him handle it for now. Instead, you drift toward where Jordan is standing stiffly near the door, arms crossed so tightly he might cut off his own circulation. <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ You stop next to him and bump your shoulder lightly against his. @@.player;"How's the cinematic masterpiece treating you?"@@ Jordan huffs out a breath that's almost a laugh. @@.jordan;"It's a crime against humanity,"@@ he mutters. You grin. @@.player;"Come on, you're telling me you wouldn't clap whenever the poop emoji is on screen?"@@ He finally glances at you, eyes narrowed but a little more alive than they were a second ago. @@.jordan;"$name, if I ever clap for this, assume the worst has happened."@@ You snort and lean casually on the wall against him, close enough that your shoulders nearly brush. He doesn't pull away. You knew he wouldn't. For a moment, you both stand there, shoulder to shoulder, silently judging the room together. Jordan shifts slightly, lowering his arms, a little less tense now. @@.jordan;"It could be worse,"@@ he mutters. @@.jordan;"At least you're here."@@ He says it so low you almost miss it. But luckily you don't. And you don't point it out, either. You just let it hang there, warm and quiet between you. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 14>>\ You stop a few feet away and nudge him lightly. @@.player;"You doing okay over here?"@@ Jordan doesn't look at you right away, but he doesn't ignore you either. He lets out a low breath through his nose, somewhere between a sigh and a grunt. @@.jordan;"This is brutal,"@@ he mutters, still watching the chaos unfold. @@.jordan;"I feel like I'm losing brain cells just by being in this room."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Come on, it's a masterpiece. Pure and raw cinematic suffering."@@ That earns the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth—a reaction so small you almost miss it. @@.jordan;"Yeah, well,"@@ he says, voice low, @@.jordan;"next time, you're sitting through this alone."@@ It's dry, almost teasing. You decide to take it as a minor victory. You settle into a spot next to him without really thinking about it. It's not a deep conversation, but Jordan doesn't move away. And somehow, that says enough for now. <<else>>\ You stop a few feet away. @@.player;"You surviving over there?"@@ you ask, half-joking. Jordan doesn't even glance at you. He just stares straight ahead at the chaotic room like he's waiting for something to happen so he has an excuse to leave. @@.jordan;"Fine,"@@ he says shortly. You shift awkwardly. @@.player;"Film Club's not exactly what you expected, huh?"@@ @@.jordan;"Didn't expect much,"@@ he mutters, voice low. @@.jordan;"Still disappointed."@@ You let out a dry chuckle, but it dies quickly when Jordan gives you a sharp look. It's clear he's not in the mood to chat. Honestly, you're not even sure if he's in the mood to exist in the same room as //The Emoji Movie//. You shove your hands in your pockets and lean back against the wall, keeping a respectful distance. Not every teammate has to be a friend. Sometimes surviving the chaos quietly is the best you're gonna get. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Go to Sports Club" "Day 17 - Yearbook 4">><</button>>

You, Simon, and Jordan eventually peel yourselves away from the Film Club war zone. You laugh under your breath as you dodge one last popcorn barrage on the way out. Jordan follows silently behind, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Next stop: Sports Club. You push open the double doors to the gym, and the instant you step inside, you're hit with the sharp echoing sounds of sneakers squeaking against polished wood, dodgeballs smacking walls, and someone yelling across the court. Luke spots you almost immediately. He's in the middle of a game, decked out in athletic shorts and a T-shirt, grinning like a dog who just found out he's getting two dinners tonight. @@.luke;"Ayy, $name!"@@ he bellows, loud enough that half the gym turns to stare. You give him a quick wave, trying not to laugh. Simon cringes a little beside you like he's not built for this much raw athletic energy. Jordan, on the other hand, just mutters, @@.jordan;"Kill me now,"@@ under his breath. Luke jogs over to the sidelines, catching a dodgeball one-handed on the way without even glancing at it. He's a little sweaty, a little scuffed up, and somehow //thriving//. @@.luke;"You here for photos?"@@ Luke asks, bright-eyed. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, lifting the camera. @@.player;"Don't worry, I'll make you look like a professional athlete. Even //if// you appear to be a maniac right now."@@ Luke beams. @@.luke;"Just don't expect anything on my end!"@@ Before you can respond, a rogue dodgeball flies past his head and nails the wall next to you with a loud //thud//. Luke doesn't even flinch—he just throws a lazy peace sign back at whoever threw it and grins wider. You take a few quick shots—Luke posing with a ball over his shoulder, a group mid-throw, and the intensity when there are only a few players left on the court. It's chaotic as all hell, and honestly a lot more fun to capture than you expected. Simon, meanwhile, flinches before edging a little further behind you every time a dodgeball whizzes too close. Jordan leans against the bleachers, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling like he's counting down the seconds until he can leave. After a dozen or so minutes, Charlotte's checklist is mostly satisfied—candids, action shots, one or two blurry pictures that still have //vibes//. You check the time and glance at Simon and Jordan. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Let's get out of here."@@ Luke throws you a thumbs-up before diving back into the game like his life depends on it. You shake your head, smiling despite yourself, and head for the door. <<button "Get back to class" "Day 17 - Yearbook 5">><</button>>

You, Simon, and Jordan make your way back across campus, dodging someone trying to ride a broken scooter down the main hall. Simon's still buzzing a little from the chaos of Film Club, while Jordan walks silently, the only sound from him the steady rhythm of his sneakers hitting the floor. When you finally push open the door to the Yearbook Club room, Charlotte looks up from her laptop, a half-eaten granola bar hanging out of her mouth. @@.girl;"Survivors have returned,"@@ she says, muffled but triumphant. @@.girl;"Good. Return the camera to the bin and upload the shots by tomorrow."@@ Simon gives a tired salute and practically collapses into a chair to start the upload. You unclip the camera strap from around your neck and follow suit, feeling the comfortable weight of being finished settle onto your shoulders. Jordan hangs back by the door with his arms crossed, watching but not rushing you. Charlotte taps away at her laptop. @@.girl;"You guys did a //really// nice job, by the way. You actually got usable photos, which puts you ahead of most of the photographers I've gone through.";@@ You snort. Simon beams. Jordan... shrugs. After a few more minutes of housekeeping—reminders about deadlines, layout brainstorming, and an ominous warning about what happens if anyone turns in photos with timestamps—you're finally free to go. You shoulder your bag and glance toward Jordan, who's lingering by the door. <<if $jordanRelo > 49>>\ He glances at you as you gather your things, and his gaze lingers for a while. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other before speaking. @@.jordan;"Hey, $name, you did good today,"@@ he starts, voice a little rougher than usual. @@.jordan;"Not just with the photos."@@ There's a pause—like he's second-guessing saying anything at all—but then he just pushes forward. @@.jordan;"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"@@ This time, his voice is a little softer and less guarded. He gives you a small, almost shy half-smile and lifts two fingers in a lazy half-wave before turning to leave. You watch him go, and despite yourself, feel a warmth settle low in your chest. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 29>>\ Jordan glances at you, a little longer than necessary, then jerks his chin toward the hall. @@.jordan;"Later, $name,"@@ he says, voice low but not cold. There's a pause afterward, like he wants to say more, but then he just gives a quick nod before slipping out the door. It's casual, sure, but it sticks with you anyway. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 14>>\ Jordan gives you a brief look, impassive as ever. @@.jordan;"Later,"@@ he mutters, barely above a grumble, and pushes open the door without waiting for a response. It's not friendly. It's just... Jordan. Keeping people at arm's length, like always. <<else>>\ Jordan doesn't really look at you at all. He just leaves without saying a word. You're just two people who happened to get grouped together, after all. <</if>>\ <<button "Go to lunch" "Day 17 - 5">><</button>>

The Yearbook Club room meets in a small, brightly lit room next to the computer lab, filled with mismatched chairs and a suspicious number of open Crayola markers. There's a sticky note that says "GET CHARLOTTE COFFEE OR SHE'LL BITE" on the door that wasn't there last week. <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ You step in and Jordan's already there—seated in the far corner with his arms crossed and that permanent look of annoyance etched on his face. He doesn't look up right away, but you catch the twitch of recognition when you enter. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say. He glances at you, then at something he's sketching, then back at you. There's a faint curve to his mouth—not quite a smile, but close to it. @@.jordan;"You're late,"@@ he says, but there's no bite to it. You check the clock. @@.player;"I'm literally two minutes early."@@ @@.jordan;"I was earlier,"@@ he says, and there's a flicker of something behind the words. Like maybe he waited. He goes back to his notes, but there's a tiny pause in his pen. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's waiting for you to sit down beside him. Maybe the seat next to him was never supposed to stay empty. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 14>>\ You step into the yearbook room, and Jordan's already there—posted up in the corner like he's guarding something, jaw tight in a way that makes him look like he's always mid-argument. He doesn't look up at first, just keeps sketching something, fingers tapping against the side of his knee. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you offer. His eyes flick toward you for half a second, then back to the page. @@.jordan;"Hey."@@ No smile. No warmth. But not dismissive, either. Just... neutral. Guarded, like always. You slide into a seat a couple of chairs over—not //next// to him, exactly, but not far either. He doesn't shift or react, but his tapping slows down just slightly. His eyes drift sideways for a heartbeat. Then his pencil starts again. If he cares that you're here, he doesn't show it. But now that you think about it, if he didn't care at all, he probably wouldn't have noticed you walk in. <<else>>\ You step into the yearbook room, and Jordan's already there—sitting in a back corner with his arms crossed, a notebook in front of him, and an expression like he's tired of everyone and everything. He doesn't look up when you enter. Doesn't acknowledge you at all, really. You hesitate for half a second before finding an open seat a few spots away. Close enough to work together if you have to. Not close enough to feel like you're inviting conversation. You glance over once. He's scribbling something in tight, sharp strokes, his jaw set. If he knows you're here, he gives no sign of it. And honestly? You're not sure what you'd say anyway. <</if>>\ The class slowly fills up, but there's still no sign of the Yearbook Club's leader. The bell rings and the door swings open just as you're starting to get concerned, and Charlotte bursts into the room, half-jogging, her messenger bag flopping against her hip and a water bottle clutched in one hand. @@.girl;"Okay, okay—sorry I'm late!"@@ she says, breathless but smiling. @@.girl;"I swear the vote from the last club block was down to the wire, and I wanted to make sure I counted right."@@ She drops her bag onto the nearest chair, pulls out a clipboard with many tallies, and dramatically fans herself with a laminated piece of paper. @@.girl;"Y'all //really// couldn't make this easy, huh?"@@ There's a murmur of low laughter around the room. Jordan doesn't look up, but his pen pauses. Charlotte grins, scanning the group. @@.girl;"Alright. You ready to find out which yearbook theme took the crown?"@@ She pauses. Just for drama. <<if $yearbooktheme is 0>> @@.girl;"A School Odyssey took it,"@@ she announces, loud and proud. @@.girl;"By one vote. Literally one."@@ There's a small ripple of reactions—someone near the window pumps their fist, another groans theatrically, and one of the girls in the front mutters something about how sci-fi is //really// boring. Charlotte ignores the chaos and powers on. @@.girl;"So. Get ready for chrome gradients, glowing borders, digital font families, and a whole lot of fake data overlays. It's going to look like our lives are being broadcast from the inside of a space shuttle."@@ She flips through her notes. @@.girl;"I want transitions that feel like loading screens, portraits with scanner-bar effects, and captions formatted like glitchy interface logs."@@ Charlotte raises her water bottle like a toast. @@.girl;"Time to build the yearbook of the future, nerds."@@ And just like that, the room kicks into motion. <<elseif $yearbooktheme is 1>> @@.girl;"Through the Lens wins it,"@@ she announces, loud and proud. @@.girl;"Barely, by the way. It was a one-vote difference."@@ There's a small cheer from a few students. Jordan, unsurprisingly, doesn't react much, but his pen stops mid-markup for half a second. Charlotte keeps going, already turning to the whiteboard. @@.girl;"So here's what that means: we're focusing on //moments//. And I mean the real ones. The unplanned smiles, the hallway chaos, the way Ms. Palmer always forgets her coffee on the roof of her car. Snapshots of actual lives, not just poses."@@ She pops the cap off an Expo marker and draws a rough layout outline on the board. @@.girl;"Each section will feel like you're flipping through someone's camera roll."@@ She pauses, then turns to face the room. @@.girl;"We're telling stories this year. No filters. Just truth."@@ A few people nod. Even Jordan... almost smiles. Almost. Charlotte lifts her water bottle like a toast. @@.girl;"Let's make this yearbook feel like //us//. Not the polished version, but the real thing."@@ And with that, everyone starts moving, ideas already flying. <<elseif $yearbooktheme is 2>> @@.girl;"Alright, folks—Timeless Traditions takes the win. It was close, literally one vote, but y'all clearly love nostalgia."@@ A few students let out small cheers; someone pretends to sob into their sleeves like they had just won a gold medal. Jordan doesn't move, but his posture relaxes a little. He probably voted for it. Charlotte spins toward the whiteboard, already uncapping an Expo marker. @@.girl;"So here's what this all means: we're reading into //heritage//. Every page should feel like you're flipping through the best parts of a scrapbook. Old photos, fun facts, class memories. We'll be mixing in black-and-white elements, retro borders, maybe even some notes or doodles."@@ She begins sketching a layout with bold headline spaces, layered photo stacks, and sidebar timelines. @@.girl;"This is a tribute to Pacific Crest—not just the buildings, but the //people//. The chaos. The weird traditions we pretend to hate but would totally miss if they vanished."@@ Charlotte turns back to the group and lifts her water bottle like a toast. @@.girl;"Let's make a yearbook that feels like opening a time capsule!"@@ And with that, the room kicks into gear. Pens tap, laptops open, and the past starts taking shape. <<else>>\ You either cheated or broke something. <</if>>\ <<button "Yearbook Club begin!" "Day 17 - Yearbook 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 17>>\ <<set $principalwarning to 0>>\ You wake up to the dull buzz of your phone vibrating, the screen lighting up with a notification from the ''Pacific Crest High School'' app. You groan, dragging the blanket over your head and debating whether or not it's even worth checking. Eventually, you give in, stick one arm out into the cold morning air, and grab your phone. ''⚠️ HOMECOMING WEEK CONTINUES — TODAY IS "REP YOUR TEAM" JERSEY DAY!'' ''Show your spirit! Whether it's Pacific Crest, Crestview Bay, college, or pro teams, wear your favorite jersey and show us what side you're on!'' You blink at the notification, still half-asleep. @@.player;"Jersey Day,"@@ you mutter. You swing your legs off the bed and stretch, then shuffle over to your closet. Somewhere in the back—under a hoodie you never wear and a wrinkled dress shirt from that one formal—you find it. The Crestview Bay jersey. It's a random jersey you bought a few years ago, back when the city held that weird Crestview Bay community fundraiser 3-on-3 basketball tournament. They printed a bunch of these flashy neon jerseys to sell for charity, even though Crestview Bay doesn't have an actual sports team. You picked one up because the colors slapped—white with bright pink and teal, a neon-styled //Crestview Bay// across the chest, and a bold ''63'' on the front and back for absolutely no reason other than you liked how it looked. It was a joke, a vibe, a summer impulse buy. You toss it onto your bed and wonder what you should do. <<button "Wear the jersey" "Day 17 - 2">>\<<set $d17jersey to true>>\<<trackChoice "D17_wear_jersey" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Stick with something normal" "Day 17 - 2">>\<<set $d17jersey to false>>\<<trackChoice "D17_wear_jersey" false "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<if $d17jersey is true>>\ <<set $top to 21>>\ <<set $pants to 2>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ You stare at the jersey laid out on your bed—white mesh with that ridiculous bubblegum-pink "Crestview Bay" lettering and the oversized 63 stamped across the front. It's a novelty from a city fundraiser basketball tournament that never should've printed merch this nice. But the colors still slap. You pick it up, holding it in both hands. It feels lighter than you remember. Not just in the fabric though. It's almost as if it's daring you to stop second-guessing and just wear the damn thing. You hesitate, just for a second, before you slip it on. It fits differently now. A little looser in the shoulders and a little snugger at the waist. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror—softer and curvier than you remember seeing a few weeks ago. You don't look the way you did when you bought this thing. But you don't look bad, either. You grab your bag, glance at yourself one more time, and shrug. It might just be a jersey, but today, it's also a statement. They can look and wonder, you've got ''nothing'' to apologize for. <<button "Head outside" "Day 17 - 3">><</button>> <<else>>\ You stare at the jersey for a long moment, draped across your bed like it's waiting for you to be the version of yourself that wears it without thinking. Back when it was just a cool impulse buy from a fundraiser table outside the grocery store. Back when you could throw it on without worrying what it said about you. Now? You sit down next to it and run your fingers over the stitched lettering—Crestview Bay in bold pink and the number 63 in a bright blue. It's playful, loud, and a little ridiculous. You used to like how bold it was, but now it just feels like a spotlight. You pick it up. Fold it once. Then quietly slip it back into the drawer. There'll be other theme days. Other chances to be bold. But this morning, especially after what happened with Principal Zhang, survival feels like enough. <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 17 - 3">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $outfit to 69>><<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Just wear something" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> <<if $d17jersey is true>>\ You step outside with the Crestview Bay jersey on, the morning air cool against your body. The white and pastel pink pop loudly against your jacket, and the bright number 63 on your chest feels bold, unmissable, and maybe just a little ridiculous. You only make it a few steps before you hear the familiar thud of sneakers on pavement and— @@.luke;"Yes!"@@ You look up just in time to see Luke barreling down the sidewalk, grinning like you just told him school announced a week off. He's in full 49ers gear—scarlet jersey, gold sleeves, number 80 shining in the sunlight. Luke skids to a stop in front of you and throws his arms out like you've just met after decades apart. @@.luke;"Bro, you wore it."@@ @@.player;"It's not like I was gonna let //you// be the only one showing up like a walking sports drink commercial,"@@ you say, smirking. Luke looks you up and down like he's appraising an exhibit in the Louvre. @@.luke;"Number sixty-three. The most powerful number in sports."@@ @@.player;"It means nothing."@@ @@.luke;"It means //everything//,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Two digits. Six and three. Combined? They're unstoppable."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"It's from a fundraiser, not a prophecy."@@ @@.luke;"Fundraiser of champions,"@@ Luke declares. @@.luke;"This is a good omen, I'm telling you."@@ He nudges your shoulder as you start walking together. @@.luke;"Honestly, I'm proud of you. You're out here looking like a whole Homecoming Week icon. If someone tries to clown on you, they'll have to go through me ''and'' Jerry Rice."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You know Jerry Rice doesn't know you exist, right?"@@ @@.luke;"Not yet,"@@ Luke grins. @@.luke;"But spiritually? We're connected, man."@@ You roll your eyes, but you're smiling now. The jersey flutters in the wind, and yeah—it's kind of loud. Definitely goofy. But it feels good. Not because it's a jersey, but because it's //yours//. And you decided to wear it. <<else>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You tug your top down a little as you step outside, the morning air crisp against your cheeks. It's quiet, the kind of stillness that feels like the world is holding its breath—until it's immediately broken by the sound of someone yelling your name down the sidewalk. @@.luke;"$name!"@@ You glance up just in time to see Luke jogging toward you, grinning like he just won the lottery and chugged several cans of Monster. His hair is windblown, his backpack is hanging off one shoulder, and— Of course. He's wearing a 49ers jersey. Bright red, gold trim, number 80 stretched proudly across his chest. He slows to a dramatic stop in front of you, eyes scanning your outfit. His face darkens as he sees the lack of a jersey. @@.luke;"...Bro,"@@ Luke says, with a level of disappointment you haven't seen from him in a long time. @@.luke;"It's Jersey Day."@@ @@.player;"I'm aware,"@@ you sat flatly. He frowns, like you've personally wounded his football-loving soul. @@.luke;"You didn't wear //anything//? Not even that one you got from the fundraiser? The pastel one with the number that makes no sense?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Didn't feel like it."@@ Luke clutches his chest like he's been stabbed. @@.luke;"You, $name, had the chance to be loud and show off team spirit, and you passed it up? On Jersey Day? I thought we were doing this together!"@@ You smirk, but try not to let it show too much. @@.player;"I didn't realize we signed a blood pact about it."@@ Luke groans and starts walking beside you. @@.luke;"No, but like—come on, man! This was our moment! The Crestview Bay Duo! Number 80 and number 63! Tradition! Brotherhood! Sports!"@@ @@.player;"You're literally wearing a jersey for a team halfway across the state."@@ @@.luke;"It's about legacy, $name."@@ You laugh under your breath, and Luke side-eyes you like he's considering whether or not to report you for crimes against Homecoming Week. @@.luke;"Don't worry,"@@ he mutters. @@.luke;"I'm not mad. Just disappointed."@@ Even with those words, he grins as you both head off toward school. <</if>>\ <<button "Go to school" "Day 17 - 4">><</button>>

The school day moves with the slow drag of routine, the kind you know well enough to coast through—until you remember people are watching more closely now. Some glances stick longer, and some even feel pointed. Still, you keep your head down and try to focus. You get through English Literature with Mr. Reeds and Physics 2 with Dr. Clark. The bell rings, a shrill relief that sends everyone scattering toward their clubs. You take a second to gather your things, pull your bag up onto one shoulder, and then head out the door. The hallways are alive with chatter and footsteps echoing off lockers. It's time for your second club meeting. <<if $club is 0>>\ <<button "Head to the Academic Club" "Day 17 - Academic">><</button>> <<elseif $club is 1>>\ <<button "Head to the Occult Club" "Day 17 - Occult">><</button>> <<elseif $club is 2>>\ <<button "Head to the Fashion Club" "Day 17 - Fashion">><</button>> <<elseif $club is 3>>\ <<button "Head to the Yearbook Club" "Day 17 - Yearbook">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $club is 2>>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <</if>>\ The hallways are already buzzing with the shuffle of students heading toward the cafeteria, the lunchtime chatter swelling with every step you take. You get your lunch and head toward your usual lunch table. @@.luke;"There you are, dude!"@@ Luke calls, waving. @@.luke;"I thought I was gonna have to send out a search party."@@ Samantha sits across from him, a smirk on her lips. @@.samantha;"Yeah, he was two seconds away from howling at the moon,"@@ she says dryly. @@.samantha;"Let me tell you, it would've been a //real// tragedy for Crestview Bay's already crumbling reputation."@@ You laugh as you set down your tray and slide into your usual spot. <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ You're halfway through the pile of meat that smells suspiciously strange when your phone buzzes against the table. Luke is in the middle of an animated story, but you glance down at the screen anyway. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">don't forget cheer practice today after school!</div> </div>\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">🎀👏🏻📣🎉🤸🏼‍♀️🎊</div> </div>\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">3:30 sharp!</div> </div>\ </div>\ You stare at the text for a second. Even after a game with them, it still feels surreal. You, $name, thrown right into the middle of the Pacific Crest cheerleading squad. You're not just standing on the sidelines either—Jessica made it very clear you were there to actually help, not just fake it. Luke leans over, nosily trying to peek at your screen. @@.luke;"Ooh, secret admirer?"@@ he teases, grin wide and clueless. Samantha doesn't even bother to look up from her apple slices. @@.samantha;"A secret admirer? $name? I don't know about that."@@ You snort, locking your phone and shoving it into your pocket. @@.player;"It's Jessica. She's just talking to me about some group project thing,"@@ you lie smoothly, grabbing your fork like the conversation's already over. Luke, oblivious as ever, nods along like that makes perfect sense. @@.luke;"Man, I don't know how you deal with that. Jessica's kind of scary. She stared at me once and I almost fainted."@@ @@.samantha;"Since when have you and Jessica been doing projects together?"@@ she asks, narrowing her eyes at you. You shrug and force a casual grin. @@.player;"Since homeroom made us partners. Lucky me, right?"@@ Samantha makes a skeptical noise but doesn't push it—not yet, at least. Luke's already launched into a ramble about how he once accidentally deleted an entire presentation the night before it was due. You lean back and pretend to pay attention, but your mind's already ticking ahead. Practice today. A whole afternoon of pretending it's normal to be doing stunts in a cheerleader outfit. You smile along with Luke and Samantha like nothing's changed. Like you're still just you, still just one of them. Even if you're not so sure what that even means anymore. <<button "Time for cheerleading practice!" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "School goes by" "Day 17 - 6">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $hairStyle to $temphairStyle>>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ <</if>>\ The sun dips into the horizon as you walk down the familiar stretch of sidewalk, the late afternoon air still warm against your skin. Your backpack is slung over your shoulders, swinging with each step. Around you, the town hums with quiet energy—distant laughter from a skate park, the low rumble of cars, and the occasional bark of a dog somewhere behind a fence. As you near the Crestview Bay Mall, you slow without meaning to. The mall is the pride of the town—a sleek two-story space with shimmering glass panels, manicured palm trees swaying out front, and a huge electronic billboard flashing ads for seasonal sales. In the golden light, it almost looks too perfect. But what really catches your eye are the posters taped up on the front doors. Dozens of them. Bright neon paper with desperate lettering: ''HELP WANTED HIRING IMMEDIATELY! FLEXIBLE HOURS! APPLY INSIDE!'' You pause at the edge of the steps leading up to the entrance, shifting your backpack higher on your shoulders. Through the tall glass doors, you can see flashes of the interior—cool tile floors, polished shop windows, kids darting between kiosks, and the muted thump of pop music. The mall still looks lively and busy, but there's a frantic edge to it. Employees are sprinting around and a manager is arguing with someone. It's clear they need people. Badly. You linger, one foot half-turned toward the entrance. You weren't planning to stop anywhere—you were just going to walk home, kick off your shoes, maybe play video games for a few hours. But the bright flyers flutter in the warm breeze, and you can't help but wonder. A job could mean extra cash. Independence. Something to do with your time. But it could just be a layer of pressure you're not ready to deal with. What should you do? <<button "Check it out" "Day 17 - Mall">><</button>> <<button "Head home" "Day 17 - 7">><</button>>

<<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true or $malljob is true>>\ By the time you finally push open the front door, your body feels like it's made of lead. The house is mostly dark, the soft hum of the fridge the only sound greeting you. It seems your dad is on yet another shift. You kick off your Converses with a grunt, your legs protesting the motion, and drop your bag by the door. The familiar smell of home wraps around you like a heavy blanket. You shuffle into the kitchen, grab a glass of water without bothering to turn on the lights, and lean against the counter, letting the coolness of the surface sink into your arms. Every inch of you aches. Your arms are tired, your legs are tired, and you're just one giant, walking cramp at this point. Still, there's something satisfying about the exhaustion. It's like you actually earned it. You debate crashing on the couch and falling asleep right then and there but manage to drag yourself upstairs. Your bed looks like heaven. You don't even bother changing out of your clothes—just collapse into the covers, the world fading out before you can even finish pulling the blanket over yourself. <<else>>\ <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ When you open the front door, the house feels calm, bathed in the soft orange glow of a streetlamp filtering through the windows. You fooled around for a few hours and didn't realize how much time had gone by. You step inside, your sneakers squeaking softly on the tile. You toss your bag in the corner without a second thought, stretching your arms over your head with a loud yawn. You've still got energy buzzing under your skin, and it's clear you don't really //need// to sleep yet. You wander into the kitchen, idly flipping through a few pieces of mail. You watch some TV, scroll your phone, take a shower, and even do some homework. Eventually, the energy simmering in your chest disappears. You blink at the clock on the wall. It's later than you thought. You toss your stuff onto the desk, change into your pajamas, and flop down onto your bed. The mattress sighs under your weight. You pull the blanket up, and your eyes start fluttering shut before you even realize it. In the soft hush of your room, you finally drift off, the day slipping away into dreams. <</if>>\ <<button "Nighttime" "Day 18 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-locker.png"> <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $temphairStyle to $hairStyle>> <<set $hairStyle = 1>>\ <<set $top to 8>>\ <<if $d11skirt is true>>\ <<set $pants to 5>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $pants to 4>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $shoes to 1>>\ You slip into the girls' room, the heavy door swinging shut behind you with a low thud. You find an empty corner, grab your uniform from the bench, and stare at it. Your stomach twists at the sight of it. <<if $d11skirt is true>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ Jessica had given you a choice: skirt or shorts. You picked the skirt, even though it made your heart race in a way you couldn't fully explain. <<else>>\ Jessica had given you a choice: skirt or shorts. You picked the skirt, mostly because you figured it'd be less of a hassle to just go along with it. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d11skirt is false>>\ Jessica had given you a choice: skirt or shorts. You picked the shorts, hoping it'd feel a little less like you were stepping into a role you weren't ready for. <</if>>\ You change quickly, peeling off your clothes and sliding the uniform on. The fabric is smooth and light, clinging //just// enough to remind you how different you look now compared to just a few weeks ago. The top hugs your frame in ways you're still getting used to, and more of your thighs are exposed than you expected. <<if $feminineLooks > 59>>\ You catch your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back at you looks more feminine than ever. Softer lines and curves. You adjust the hem of your shirt, tucking it just right so it won't ride up during stunts. <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>>\ You catch your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back at you isn't exactly the boy you remember. Androgynous. Somewhere in between. You adjust the hem of your shirt, tucking it just right so it won't ride up during stunts. <</if>>\ You lace your cheerleading shoes, reminding yourself that you're part of the team. Grabbing your water bottle and shoving your regular clothes into your locker, you swing the door shut and take one deep breath. Then you push open the door and step out onto the field. <<button "Blue and white, we own the night!" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 2">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> Jessica spots you first. She straightens immediately, smoothing wrinkles that don't exist from her uniform and giving you a brisk nod. @@.jessica;"Alright, everyone! Let's get moving!"@@ she calls, her voice slicing clean through lazy chatter. Mia, looking impossibly bored, falls in line. Ashley's casual and unbothered, while Tori grins wide and gives you a little finger-gun as you approach. @@.jessica;"First thing's first—warm-ups,"@@ Jessica announces. @@.jessica;"High knees, butt kicks, jumping jacks. Let's go!"@@ You fall right into step with the others, and the next few minutes blur by as your heart pounds. Once warm-ups are done, Jessica blows her whistle, pulling everyone into a loose circle. @@.jessica;"Today we're going to be working on stunts,"@@ she says, tapping the clipboard she's somehow produced out of thin air. @@.jessica;"Homecoming's going to have a huge crowd, even bigger than the first game of the season. We ''cannot'' look second-rate. We're focusing on tight formations, clean lifts, and high energy."@@ Her eyes sweep across the group before landing on you. @@.jessica;"I know you're new and ''very'' talented, $name, but that includes you too."@@ Mia smirks. Ashley gives you a thumbs-up like it's no big deal. Tori bounces excitedly. Jessica starts pairing everyone up and assigning groups for lifts and stunts. You feel the buzz of nerves rising under your skin as she calls out names, but also a strange flicker of determination. This is happening. You're really doing this. The only question is: how will you approach today's practice? <<button "Throw yourself into it and try to impress Jessica" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 3">>\<<set $d17cheerleadingapproach to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Play it safe and focus on just getting the moves right" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 3">>\<<set $d17cheerleadingapproach to false>>\<</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> <<if $d17cheerleadingapproach is true>>\ <<if $athleticism > 59>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cprecision to Math.clamp($cprecision + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You plant your feet firmly on the mat, heart pounding but steady. No second-guessing. No holding back. You're going to ''prove'' yourself today—show Jessica you're not just here to fill out the squad. You belong here. When Jessica claps her hands to start the first stunt sequence, you launch into motion. This time, everything clicks. You hit your marks with sharp precision, muscles moving like they already know what to do before you think about it. Every jump, every catch, every shift of weight—it all feels so damn //right//. When you step in to spot, your hands are exactly where they need to be, steady and confident. You power through the lifts, instinctively adjusting whenever someone wobbles. Out of the corner, you catch Jessica watching you. Really watching you. Her clipboard droops a little in her hand, her eyes wide for half a second before she forces her expression back. You can notice the grin she's fighting, though. When the routine ends and Jessica blows her whistle to pause the group, her voice is almost breathless with excitement. @@.jessica;"$name, that was amazing!"@@ she says, stepping toward you, the sun catching the gold in her hair as she smiles—really //smiles//—at you. @@.jessica;"You nailed it. Seriously."@@ You rub the back of your neck, feeling a little sheepish under the sudden attention. @@.player;"Uh, thanks. I'm just.. trying to keep up."@@ Jessica laughs, light and warm. @@.jessica;"You're not just keeping up,"@@ she says, patting your shoulder lightly. @@.jessica;"You're making the rest of us look bad."@@ Mia lets out a low whistle under her breath. Ashley nods with an approving smirk. Tori practically bounces in place, clapping. @@.girl;"$name, that was so cool! You're like a human trampoline!"@@ Jessica shakes her head, her eyes still on you. @@.jessica;"Seriously, keep this up and you're going to make Homecoming look //insane//."@@ You can't help but grin, chest swelling with something warm. You feel like you ''belong''. And judging by the way Jessica's still smiling at you even after she calls everyone back to formation, you know she's starting to think so too. <<else>>\ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ You plant your feet on the mat, heart thudding, determination buzzing under your skin. No holding back today. You are going to ''nail'' this practice. You're going to show Jessica that you're serious about this. When Jessica claps her hands to start the first stunt sequence, you spring forward with way more energy than precision. You charge into the lift too early, nearly knocking over Ashley, who side-steps you with a startled laugh. When it's your turn to spot, you throw up your hands way too late and end up lunging forward and skidding awkwardly across the mat. Mia bursts out laughing immediately. @@.girl;"Smooth, Casanova,"@@ she snickers, shaking her head. Jessica covers her mouth, trying—and failing—not to laugh. There's a sparkle in her eyes, and when she finally lowers her hand, she's smiling in a way that's half amused, half... something warmer. @@.jessica;"Well, points for enthusiasm,"@@ she says, voice light. She taps her clipboard lightly against her leg, the corners of her mouth twitching up. @@.jessica;"Honestly? That was kind of adorable."@@ You scramble upright, cheeks burning, trying to brush it off with a crooked grin. @@.player;"Just, you know... adding a little flair."@@ Tori claps gleefully like you've just pulled off a full acrobatic routine. @@.girl;"That was, like, the cutest almost-faceplant I've ever seen!"@@ Jessica shakes her head, still smiling, her voice a little softer when she peaks again. @@.jessica;"Okay, okay—let's reset and take it from the top. And maybe this time, $name, //less// flair?"@@ She flashes you a look that's half challenge, half inside joke, and your chest gives you a stupid little flutter you pretend not to notice. You jog back into position. You're messing up, sure—but you can feel something in your muscles, under the clumsiness. The raw instinct is there, just waiting to click into place. And judging. by the way Jessica keeps sneaking glances your way, you're clearly doing something right. <<else>>\ You plant your feet on the mat, heart thudding as you try to hype yourself up. No playing it safe today. You are going to ''crush'' this practice. You're going to prove you're more than the weird extra body Jessica roped into this mess. When Jessica claps her hands to start the first stunt sequence, you spring into action with all the enthusiasm in the world. Unfortunately, enthusiasm isn't quite enough. You charge into the first lift //far// too early, nearly knocking over Ashley, who catches herself with a startled laugh. When it's your turn to spot, you throw up your hands way too late and end up lunging forward and skidding awkwardly across the mat. Mia snorts loudly from across the circle. @@.girl;"Graceful,"@@ she says under her breath, tossing her hair in mock pity. Jessica pinches the bridge of her nose like she's summoning every ounce of patience in her body. @@.jessica;"Good energy, $name,"@@ she says in a strained voice. @@.jessica;"Let's just... focus on timing next time, okay?"@@ You scramble upright, cheeks burning, trying to laugh it off. @@.player;"Yeah, of course. It was all part of the plan. Totally."@@ Tori, bless her, claps for you like you just won a gold medal. @@.girl;"Ten outta ten for commitment!"@@ she cheers. Despite yourself, you can feel the natural rhythm of the routine clicking somewhere underneath all your flailing. Your body //wants// to get it right—you can feel it in your bones, in the way your muscles seem to hum with potential. It's like your instincts are way ahead of your coordination. @@.jessica;"Alright,"@@ Jessica says with a tight smile. @@.jessica;"Let's reset. From the top. And this time... maybe don't tackle your teammates."@@ The squad laughs, and you force yourself to smile as you settle back into position. You're //definitely// making a fool of yourself—but for some reason, it doesn't feel quite so terrible. Maybe because, deep down, you know you're only just getting started. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<elseif $d17cheerleadingapproach is false>>\ <<set $cprecision to Math.clamp($cprecision + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You plant your feet carefully on the mat, taking a steady breath as you watch Jessica run through the formation. The others are buzzing with energy, but you focus inward. No showing off and no crazy stunts. You just want to get through this clean. When Jessica claps her hands to start, you move into position, concentrating hard on every step and lift. You keep your motions tight and your timing sharp, even if you don't add anything flashy. You focus on sticking the landings, spotting the flyers, and being exactly where you're supposed to be. It's not glamorous, but it's solid. When the stunt sequence wraps up, you catch Jessica nodding to herself, making a quick note on her clipboard. She looks up, meets your eyes briefly, and gives you a small, approving smile. It's not the dazzled kind, but the kind that says "I see you." @@.jessica;"Good work, $name,"@@ she says as she circles past you. @@.jessica;"Clean. Keep that up."@@ You feel a small swell of pride, even if it's not the most exciting praise. It's better this way. You're showing you're a member of the squad that can be trusted. That you're not going to mess around and cause chaos on the field—especially not with Homecoming breathing down everyone's neck. Mia looks vaguely impressed, Tori gives you a double thumbs-up, and Ashley tosses you a casual nod. You reset your stance and shake out your arms. You've made solid, steady progress. And for today, that's enough. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 4">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> Jessica blows the whistle again, tucking her clipboard under her arm as she steps into the center of the group. Her ponytail swings behind her with every step. @@.jessica;"Alright!"@@ she calls, clapping her hands together. @@.jessica;"We're going to break into pairs and work through tumbling passes and sideline choreography! Spirit, not chaos, alright?@@ There's a collective shuffle as people look around, pairing almost immediately. Ashley with Tori, a few of the other girls linking up without needing to be asked. You're still stretching, scanning for someone to pair with, when you feel a sharp tap on your shoulder. You spin around and find Mia standing there, smirking like she's been planning this all along. She's adjusting the hem of her shirt, posture loose and lazy, every movement dripping with smug confidence. @@.girl;"Guess you're stuck with me, superstar,"@@ she says, cocking her head and flashing a sly, challenging smile. You lift a brow, matching her energy. @@.player;"Hope you can keep up."@@ Mia chuckles, low and amused, like she already knows something you don't. @@.girl;"Cute,"@@ she says easily, nudging your arm as she saunters past you to take her place on the mat, tossing a look over her shoulder that dares you to keep up. @@.jessica;"Each pair will run the standard sideline cheer sequence. We'll rotate who leads halfway through. Remember: the crowd watches your faces as much as your arms. You should be able to sell our boring chant like it's the most exciting thing on the planet."@@ Tori immediately starts waving her arms around like an inflatable tube man. Jessica ignores her. @@.jessica;"Alright, let's go!"@@ she calls, stepping back to supervise. Mia cracks her knuckles exaggeratedly and flashes you a mischievous look. @@.girl;"Ready to get humiliated? I've been doing sideline cheers since middle school."@@ You roll your eyes, but move into position across from her. The two of you mirror each other, feet shoulder-width apart, hands by your sides. Jessica calls out the first cheer, and you both jump into motion. The rhythm pounds into your muscles—step, clap, punch, jump. It's fast, repetitive, and meant to be high-energy, but requiring ridiculous precision. You focus hard on hitting every movement at the right beat. Surprisingly, you find your rhythm quickly. The energy rolls through you like second nature—tight fists, high arms, quick pivots. You're sharper than you thought you'd be, and even Mia looks surprised when you don't immediately fumble. She leads, snapping out crisp counts: @@.girl;"Five-six-seven-eight!"@@ Her voice is sharp and playful at once, keeping you on pace. @@.girl;"You're not bad,"@@ Mia says between beats. @@.girl;"For a newbie, of course."@@ @@.player;"You're just scared that I'm gonna outshine you,"@@ you shoot back without missing a step. She laughs—a real, full laugh—and spins into the next move. @@.girl;"Keep dreaming."@@ Jessica walks past your groups while you're mid-sequence, tapping her clipboard. @@.jessica;"Wow, good energy,"@@ she says. She even looks a little surprised herself when she glances between you and Mia. Mia just shrugs like being good at this was never in doubt. You power through the rest of the sequence, sweat prickling at the back of your neck. As you hit the final pose—a sharp punch to the sky—you can feel the adrenaline humming under your skin, the strange but addictive high of getting it right. Mia lowers her arms and gives you a sly side-eye. @@.girl;"Not bad, $name. Guess you're not just here to look pretty after all."@@ You can't tell if that was meant to be a genuine compliment. <<button "Lean into the rivalry" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 5">>\<<set $d17cheerleadingmia to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Be grateful" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 5">>\<<set $d17cheerleadingmia to false>>\<</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> <<if $d17cheerleadingmia is true>>\ <<set $sarcastic to Math.clamp($sarcastic + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $genuine to Math.clamp($genuine - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You smirk, not missing a beat as you brush imaginary dust off your shoulders. @@.player;"Wow, Mia. A compliment //and// an insult in one breath? Should I be flattered or call for backup?"@@ Mia snorts, clearly amused. @@.girl;"Backup won't save you."@@ You flash her a grin as you fall back into step beside her, the easy, competitive energy buzzing between you like static. If she's going to throw jabs, you're more than willing to throw them right back. <<else>>\ <<set $sarcastic to Math.clamp($sarcastic - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $genuine to Math.clamp($genuine + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You let out a small breath, still catching your balance from the last move, and offer Mia a genuine smile. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say earnestly. @@.player;"I'm just doing my best to keep up."@@ Mia arches an eyebrow like she's not sure what to do with the sincerity, then smirks anyway. @@.girl;"Careful,'@@ she says. @@.girl;"You're going to ruin your vibe if you keep being that nice."@@ You laugh under your breath, feeling a little tighter as you jog back toward the center of the mats with her. Maybe you don't have to overthink it so much. Maybe you're starting to find your place here. <</if>>\ <<button "Wrap up practice" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 6">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> The final whistle shrills through the air, sharp and final. Jessica claps her hands once, clipboard tucked under her arm. @@.jessica;"Good work today, everyone,"@@ she says, her voice carrying across the field. @@.jessica;"We're done for now. Go ahead and get changed. I'll see you all on Friday."@@ There's a scatter of relieved laughter and tired chatter as the squad starts gathering their things. You sling your bag over your shoulder, heading after them, but your steps slow the closer you get. The girls are already vanishing into the locker room. But you hover awkwardly a few feet away, the familiar uncertainty creeping in. Technically you're part of the squad. Technically you could just walk right in. But standing there in your practice uniform, you can feel that invisible line, razor-thin and tense. You shuffle your feet, pretending to fiddle with your phone, trying not to look like you don't know where the hell you're supposed to go. That's when you notice her. Jessica, sitting alone up in the lower rows of the bleachers, her back hunched slightly, her clipboard resting forgotten on the bench beside her. She's not on her phone, not texting or snapping selfies like usual. She just... sits there, staring out at the empty field with her hands twisted in the hem of her skirt. You hesitate, then head toward her before you can talk yourself out of it. Your sneakers thud lightly against the metal steps as you climb up and slide onto the bench beside her, leaving a respectful bit of space between you. Jessica doesn't look at you right away. She just exhales slowly through her nose, her shoulders stiff. @@.jessica;"You know, this whole field's gonna be packed on Friday,"@@ she says after a moment. @@.jessica;"Parents, students, teachers... everybody."@@ She presses her lips into a thin line, still staring out over the empty field like she can already see the crowd filling every inch. @@.jessica;"And all of them are gonna be watching us. Watching //me//. Expecting it to be good."@@ Her fingers twist the hem of her skirt even tighter, knuckles whitening. She doesn't say she's scared, but she doesn't //have// to. It's in the way she sits too stiffly, the way her voice dips a little too low. You sit there for a second, the cool metal of the bleachers buzzing faintly under you, the late afternoon air settling thick around both of you. Jessica finally glances your way, just for a second, then quickly looks back out at the field—like she's giving you a tiny window to say something if you want. <<button "Tease her a little" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 7">>\<<set $d17cheerleadingjessica to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D17_jessica_convo" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Open up about your own fears" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 7">>\<<set $d17cheerleadingjessica to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D17_jessica_convo" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Remind her she has a team" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 7">>\<<set $d17cheerleadingjessica to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D17_jessica_convo" 2 "story">><</button>> <<button "Just put your hand on hers" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 7">>\<<set $d17cheerleadingjessica to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D17_jessica_convo" 3 "story">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> <<if $d17cheerleadingjessica is 0>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You lean back against the bleacher behind you, stretching your legs out and shooting her a smile. @@.player;"You're Jessica Sanders! If there's anyone in this whole school who could organize a perfect halftime show with their eyes closed, it's you."@@ Jessica lets out a short laugh through her nose, but it's thin, brittle. She tugs once more at the hem of her skirt before forcing her hands to flatten out on her lap. @@.jessica;"Right,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Jessica Sanders. Always perfect."@@ She says it like it's a weight chained to her ankles. You catch the way her words sag at the end, but you're still trying to keep it light, still thinking maybe another joke will shake it off. @@.player;"Hey, even if you do mess up, at least you'll still look good doing it. Nobody's gonna remember a missed count when you're out there stealing the show."@@ Jessica gives a thin smile and then straightens up a little too quickly. Her body snaps back into that poised, untouchable position that means she's done. @@.jessica;"Thanks, $name,"@@ she says, voice smooth but hollow. @@.jessica;"You should probably go change before they lock things up."@@ The words aren't sharp, but they land like a door clicking shut between you. She grabs her clipboard, tucks it under one arm, and stands. Without waiting for an answer, she steps down the bleachers, heading away with brisk, even strides. You watch her go, a weird twist in your stomach you can't quite name, and wonder if you said the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time. <<elseif $d17cheerleadingjessica is 1>>\ <<if $social > 59>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You shift on the bench, feeling the weight in Jessica's voice, the quiet tension she's trying to hide. You take a breath and decide to just... be real with her. @@.player;"I get it,"@@ you say softly, keeping your eyes on the football field. @@.player;"It's a lot. Everyone expecting you to be perfect all the time. It gets heavy."@@ Jessica doesn't say anything, but she doesn't pull away either. You take it as a good sign and keep going, albeit carefully. @@.player;"I feel it too,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"Not on your level, but... every day it feels like I'm pretending a little. Like if I slip up once, everyone's gonna notice and I'll ''never'' hear the end of it. It's exhausting, always trying to be what people want you to be."@@ You glance at her, giving her space to interrupt if she wants. She doesn't. @@.player;"Look, all I'm saying is that you're not alone, Jessica,"@@ you say gently. @@.player;"You don't have to carry all of it by yourself. You've got us. Even if things aren't //perfect//, it doesn't mean you're letting anyone down."@@ Jessica finally looks at you, really looks at you, and for a moment the mask drops. The tightness in her shoulder eases, and there's something close to relief in her expression. @@.jessica;"Thanks,"@@ she says quietly. @@.jessica;"I... I needed to hear that."@@ You offer her a small smile, and for the first time since practice ended, she gives you a real one back. Not the polished one, but something honest and a little tired. She stands up, stretching her arms above her head. @@.jessica;"Come on, we've got to change before they lock us out."@@ You laugh and hop up to follow her, the distance between you lighter now, like the weight she was carrying isn't quite as heavy anymore. <<else>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You shift awkwardly on the bench, feeling the weight of her words settle between you like a thick fog. Before you can second-guess yourself, though, you blurt out, @@.player;"Yeah, I get it. I mean, not what you're going through exactly, but..."@@ You trail off for half a second, but the words are already spilling out, tumbling over themselves. @@.player;"I've been freaking out too,"@@ you say quickly, staring at the field so you don't have to meet her eyes. @@.player;"About practice, about screwing up, about looking stupid in front of everyone. Like, sometimes I barely even //move// without overthinking it. And it's not like I'm some expert or whatever—I'm just... trying not to be the reason everything falls apart, you know?"@@ You let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of your neck. Jessica stays quiet beside you. But you're caught in the runaway momentum of oversharing. @@.player;"And it's not even just cheerleading, really,"@@ you continue, voice too loud. @@.player;"It's like... everything lately. Like I'm stuck between who I'm supposed to be and who I'm actually turning into, and it's terrifying. Every time I think I'm getting it right, it just gets harder, and—"@@ You stop yourself with a hard swallow, realizing to late how much you're rambling. The silence afterward is ''deafening''. You glance at Jessica. She's sitting stiffly, hands folded neatly over her knees, her face perfectly composed. //Too// composed. Your stomach sinks. You messed things up. You weren't supposed to make this about you. Jessica stands slowly, smoothing out her skirt. @@.jessica;"You should probably get changed,"@@ she says, polite but distant. She's not angry, just... done. She grabs her clipboard from the bench and heads down the stairs without another word, her sneakers tapping rhythmically against the metal as she disappears. You sit there a minute longer, the cold breeze prickling at your skin, wondering how you always seem to say the wrong thing when it matters most. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d17cheerleadingjessica is 2>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You lean forward a little before speaking. @@.player;"You know,"@@ you say, keeping your voice even and steady, @@.player;"it's not just on you."@@ Jessica doesn't look at you, but you can see her shoulders tense, like she's bracing for some kind of pity she doesn't want. You keep going, albeit carefully, choosing your words like stepping stones across a river. @@.player;"I mean it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You're not out there by yourself on Friday. You have us. We're not perfect either, but we're here. And we'll have your back, no matter what happens."@@ You glance over at her. She's staring hard at the field, blinking a little faster than usual. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her clipboard, but she's listening. @@.player;"You're not the only one who cares about making it good, trust me,"@@ you add. @@.player;"We all want to make you proud. We're all in this ''together''."@@ There's a long pause. The breeze picks up, tugging gently at the edges of her skirt and sending loose strands of blonde hair dancing across her face. Finally, Jessica lets out a shaky exhale, and turns her head toward you. Her smile is small but real, fragile in a way you rarely see from her. @@.jessica;"Thanks,"@@ she says, her voice quieter than usual but much more genuine. @@.jessica;"I guess... I forget about that, sometimes."@@ You shrug lightly, giving her a sideways grin. @@.player;"That's what we're here for. To remind you that you're not superhuman. Just almost."@@ Jessica laughs softly, a real laugh, and for a second she looks less like the untouchable queen of Pacific Crest High School and more like a regular girl who's trying her best. She pushes herself to her feet, rolling her shoulders back. @@.jessica;"Alright. Before they lock us out of the locker room for real."@@ You hop up beside her. As you walk toward the locker rooms together, you can feel the weight around her lighten a little, like maybe she's letting herself breathe again. <<elseif $d17cheerleadingjessica is 3>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate, heart drumming against your ribs, and then you reach out and place your hand over hers, stopping the restless twisting of her skirt. Jessica stiffens for the briefest moment, her eyes darting down to where your fingers brush hers. For a heartbeat, you think maybe you messed up—maybe you crossed some line you didn't even know was there. But then her fingers relax under your touch. She doesn't pull away. Instead, she shifts lightly, her pinky hooking shyly around yours. Her cheeks are flushed a soft pink now, the fading sunlight catching the faint color blooming high on her cheeks. She lets out a tiny, breathy laugh, more of a puff of air than anything, and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear—a little clumsy, a little too fast. @@.jessica;"Is... Is this meant to be a substitute for a pep talk?"@@ she asks, her voice quiet and a little wobbly. You grin, the kind you can't quite hold back, and squeeze her hand just a little. @@.player;"Yeah, well,"@@ you say, trying to keep it light. @@.player;"I figured you already have enough people pretending they know exactly what to say. Thought you might need a person who's just... kinda winging it. You know?"@@ Jessica lets out a real laugh this time, soft and genuine, and it warms you from the inside out. She ducks her head, trying to hide her smile for half a second before glancing up at you, her blue eyes shining even brighter now. @@.jessica;"I guess it's kind of nice,"@@ she murmurs, voice tipping into something almost shy. @@.jessica;"Not being expected to be perfect for once."@@ For a second, everything stills—the warm air, the far-off buzz of traffic, even the long stretch of the empty field in front of you. It's just the two of you, $name and Jessica, caught in a rare moment of peace. Jessica bites her lip, like she wants to say something but isn't quite ready yet. Instead, she gently pulls her hand back, but not abruptly—more like she's tucking the moment away and keeping it safe. She rises to her feet, smoothing her skirt in a familiar gesture, but her movements look slower now, more relaxed. She clutches her clipboard tighter than necessary and looks down at you with a real smile. @@.jessica;"Come on, $name,"@@ she says, her voice a little breathless. @@.jessica;"Before we get locked out of the locker room and have to go home in cheerleading outfits."@@ You laugh and hop up beside her. You fall into step next to her naturally, like this was how it was supposed to be, the distance between you lighter and easier now. Neither of you says much as you walk across the field, but you don't need to. You can feel the shift—something quiet and hopeful weaving between you, something that wasn't there before. You didn't say the perfect thing, but you didn't need to. <<else>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for a second, unsure what to say. Words feel heavy and your tongue feels clumsy. So instead, you reach out and set your hand gently over hers, stilling the fidgeting fingers twisting at the hem of her skirt. Jessica freezes. At first, she doesn't move—doesn't even breathe—and for half a second you think maybe it's okay. Maybe it's comforting. Maybe it's what she needed. But then you see it—the way her whole body stiffens, a flash of something like discomfort tightening her jaw. She pulls her hand away firmly, folding it tightly into her lap like she's trying to shrink away without making a scene. You pull your hand back immediately, heat flooding your face. The air between you turns dense, prickling with awkwardness. Jessica clears her throat, forcing a polite smile. @@.jessica;"I should, uh... I should go change. Big day Friday and all."@@ She stands up too fast, smoothing her skirt down like armor, her clipboard tucked tightly under her arm. She doesn't meet your eyes, and her steps down the bleachers are quicker than they were before—like she's trying to escape without making it obvious. You sit there, your hand still hovering uselessly for a second longer, your stomach dropping. You didn't mean to make things weird. But you ''definitely'' did. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Cheerleading practice over!" "Day 17 - 6">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-footballa.png"> <<grantAchievement "CheerleaderPractice2">>\ The last bell rings, and you drag your feet toward the football field, the afternoon sun beating down on the bleachers. When you arrive, the squad is already gathered by the edge of a field, a cluster of uniforms and pom-poms. They're all changed and stretching, laughing and talking in several circles. You slow your pace a little, heart thudding, and scan the group. Jessica stands at the center, arms crossed, her polished smile slipping just a little at the edges. She's dressed perfectly, as always. From the crisp white sneakers to the flawless maroon hairtie. She's pretending to be relaxed, tapping idly at her phone like none of this matters, but you catch the slight tension in her body. Mia lounges nearby, tugging casually at the hem of her skirt and smirking at something only she seems to find funny. She catches you looking and winks like she's the star of a show. Ashley, leaning back on her hands in the grass, looks almost bored. She pops a stick of gum into her mouth without a second thought, stretching her legs out in front of her. Meanwhile, Tori hums a weird tune to herself as she adjusts her braid. She's wearing mismatched scrunchies on both arms and chattering to no one in particular about how she's //definitely// going to stick her landing this time. You hover awkwardly at the edge, still in your regular clothes. The sound of your sneakers crunching against the turf finally draws Jessica's attention. @@.jessica;"There you are,"@@ she says, flashing you a bright, albeit shaky smile. @@.jessica;"Okay, quick announcement before we start—"@@ She claps her hands to get everyone's attention. Mia rolls her eyes but listens. Ashley just raises an eyebrow. Tori salutes. Jessica clears her throat. @@.jessica;"This Friday is the ''Homecoming Day game'',"@@ she says, her voice practiced. @@.jessica;"Which means our halftime routine has to be perfect. No, absolutely flawless."@@ Tori bounces slightly on her toes, her bracelets jangling. @@.girl;"Ooh, pressure! I love it!"@@ she chirps. Mia tosses her curly red hair over her shoulder lazily. @@.girl;"We'll be fine,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"We'll crush it, just like always. People won't even be watching us much anyway. They'll all be drooling over Jordan."@@ Ashley blows a small bubble with her gum. @@.girl;"Speak for yourself. I'm just here for the vibe."@@ Jessica ignores them all. @@.jessica;"We have to //nail// every count. Stunts, formation, energy. All of it. I mean it."@@ She meets your eyes briefly. You nod once. Jessica exhales through her nose. @@.jessica;"Alright. Let's warm up everyone. $name, get changed and meet us on the mats. Your uniform is in the locker room."@@ She flashes one last smile before turning to direct everyone through a warm-up sequence. You head toward the locker room, the knot of nerves tightening just a little more in your stomach. Homecoming. No pressure at all. <<button "Go change" "Day 17 - Cheerleader Practice 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> <<if $malljob is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "AcceptJob">>\ You take a breath, shifting your bag on your shoulder, and then nod. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, a little nervous but firm. @@.player;"I'll give it a shot."@@ The woman's face lights up immediately, like she just found out she won the lottery. @@.girl;"Seriously? Oh, thank //God//,"@@ she says, laughing under her breath as she grabs a stack of papers from under the desk. @@.girl;"You have no idea how badly we needed someone to say yes."@@ She hands you a quick application form and a pen, running you through the basics while you fill it out—name, contact info, emergency contact, the basics. You scrawl your answers quickly, the buzz of the mall humming around you. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says once you hand it back, stacking it neatly with the others. @@.girl;"Technically, this'll be a trial shift, but based on how desperate we are... well, let's just say you're already halfway in."@@ She grins and gestures for you to follow her. You sling your bag higher on your shoulder and fall into step beside her as she leads you to //Vibe Alley//. @@.girl;"Alright, that's you,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Head inside and ask for Kendra. She's the manager. Like I said, super chill. You'll like her."@@ You nod as you slow to a stop just outside the entrance. The store is bright and colorful, full of sharp displays, trendy outfits on mannequins, and an easy energy that feels both exciting and a little intimidating. The woman pats your shoulder once, giving you an encouraging smile before heading back toward the info desk. You take a deep breath, adjusting your grip on your bag. It's time to meet your new boss. <<button "Enter" "Day 17 - Mall 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<grantAchievement "RejectJob">>\ You shift your bag higher on your shoulders, glancing once more at the open mall around you—the soft thrum of music, the neon lights, and the busy shuffle of shoppers. For a second, you imagine yourself folding endless stacks of jeans, restocking shelves, making small talk with customers you'll barely remember. You force a polite smile and shake your head. @@.player;"I think I'm gonna pass,"@@ you say, trying your best to sound more certain than you feel. @@.player;"At least for now."@@ The woman's face falls, just a little. She's able to mask it quickly with a professional nod, but you can see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. @@.girl;"Ah, that's too bad,"@@ she says, tapping her clipboard once against the counter, her cheerful energy dimming just a notch. @@.girl;"We could really use someone like you."@@ You shrug awkwardly, guilt nibbling at the back of your mind. @@.player;"Sorry. Just... not the right time, I guess."@@ She waves you off with a half-smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. @@.girl;"No worries. Thanks for coming in, at least. If you ever change your mind, the signs will be up for a while."@@ You nod, mumbling a quick thanks before turning back toward the sliding doors. The whoosh of cool air follows you outside. Behind you, the mall buzzes on without missing a beat, the bright lights flashing against the darkening sky as you slip back onto the sidewalk, wondering if you made the right choice or not. <<button "Go home" "Day 17 - 7">><</button>> <</if>>\

You step into the store, the cool blast of air-conditioning and thrum of bass-heavy pop music wrapping around you. Inside, //Vibe Alley// is even trendier up close—mannequins decked out in cropped jackets, colorful sneakers, layered necklaces, and effortlessly cool. You stand there for a second, a little overwhelmed, until a woman behind the front counter waves you over with a bright smile. She's tall, with warm brown skin and dark curls pulled back into her colorful scarf. Her name tag—pinned proudly to a denim jacket that looks //way// cooler than any manager outfit you could've imagined—reads: ''Kendra''. @@.girl;"Well hey there, sugar,"@@ she calls in a soft Southern drawl. It's inviting without feeling over-the-top—like the kind of voice you'd hear at a backyard barbecue, casual and full of kindness. She strides over, a few simple silver bracelets clinking together as she moves. @@.girl;"You must be the new girl they said they were sending,"@@ she says, flashing you a bright smile. She gives you a quick once-over before nodding approvingly. @@.girl;"You've got great style already. You'll fit right in."@@ You open your mouth to answer, nerves prickling under your skin. @@.player;"Uh, actually—"@@ The words barely leave your mouth before Kendra's smile falters for half a second, her brow crinkling. She leans in just a little, tilting her head like she's trying to make sure she heard you correctly. You clear your throat. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ @@.player;"I—uh, I'm $name. Sorry, it's... probably a little confusing."@@ You peek up just in time to see Kendra's face shift from surprise to a soft, understanding smile. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I'm a guy,"@@ you blurt out, before Kendra can even say anything. @@.player;"Name's $name."@@ Kendra blinks in surprise for half a second, then her expression softens into a warm, apologetic smile. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"Lord, I'm sorry,"@@ she says, her tone light but sincere. @@.girl;"You've got such a pretty face, I just assumed."@@ She waves her hand, brushing the moment away without making it feel heavy. @@.girl;"It doesn't matter one bit—you're here, and that's what we needed."@@ You relax a little. Kendra's already back in motion, flipping through some papers and handing you a simple checklist. @@.girl;"I'm sure you already know, but the name's Kendra,"@@ she says, her smile back in full force. @@.girl;"I run the show around here. If you've got any questions or need anything, you just come find me, alright? let's get you started."@@ <<button "Your first shift" "Day 17 - Mall 3">><</button>>

Kendra leads you a few steps further into the store, weaving past tables stacked with hoodies and mannequins showing off the newest clothes. The music plays under the chatter of a few browsing customers, giving everything an easy rhythm. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ Kendra says, coming to a stop near a low counter stacked with folded graphic tees. She flips her clipboard up like a teacher about to start a lesson. @@.girl;"We keep it simple around here, but there's ''always'' somethin' to do. Main thing is keeping the place looking good. Clothes folded, shelves stocked, floor clean. It sounds easy, but trust me, it can get wild when a crowd rolls through."@@ She ticks things off with her fingers as she talks. @@.girl;"First, if you see a table getting messy, jump on it. Refold the shirts and line up the pants nicely and neatly. Second, if someone looks like they need help—ya know, staring at the same rack for twenty minutes—check in. Just a 'hey, do you need anything?' does wonders."@@ You nod along, trying to absorb it all. @@.girl;"Last thing,"@@ Kendra adds, her smile turning a little playful. @@.girl;"Don't just stand around if it's slow. We do re-fold checks, clean the mirrors, organize accessories, the whole deal. If you're moving, you're doing good."@@ She leans the clipboard against her hip and gives you a look that's encouraging, but there's a hint of challenge in her eyes. @@.girl;"Think you're up for it?"@@ Before you can answer, she points toward the back where a few empty tables wait, clearly in need of tidying. A small group of customers just wandered in too, already picking through a rack of jackets. @@.girl;"Alright, $name,"@@ she says, her tone lighter now. @@.girl;"Let's see what you wanna tackle first."@@ <<button "Start tidying the messy table" "Day 17 - Mall 4">>\<<set $shift1tidy to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Offer to greet customers instead" "Day 17 - Mall 4">>\<<set $shift1tidy to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $shift1tidy is true>>\ You glance toward the table Kendra pointed out—the one sagging under the messy pile of half-folded T-shirts and jeans about to fall off the edge—and nod. Safe was better than crashing and burning on your first real minute on the job. @@.player;"I'll start with the table,"@@ you say. Kendra's smile widens approvingly. @@.girl;"That's a good call. It ain't glamorous, but it's important. First thing people see when they walk in is the tables—gotta keep 'em looking sharp."@@ You make your way over and set your bag carefully down under the counter nearby. Up close, the table looks even worse—a battlefield of shirts in the wrong size stacks, jackets that probably belonged three racks away, and a hoodie someone had clearly just given up on folding halfway through. You take a breath, plant your feet, and get to work. The rhythm of it settles in quickly—straightening out shirts, smoothing wrinkles, lining up the size tags. Fold, straighten, stack. It's mindless, sure, but kinda satisfying as well. Out of the corner of your eyes, you catch Kendra watching you from the register, arms crossed, a faintly amused smile on her face. She doesn't say anything, just gives you a small nod when you glance over, letting you know you're on the right track. By the time you're done with it, the table looks clean. You brush your hands off against your pants, feeling a small, solid sense of accomplishment settle in your chest. Not a bad start. Not bad at all. <<else>>\ You glance at the customers wandering in—two girls your age laughing about something on their phones and a guy flipping through a rack of jackets—and make a decision. <<if $social > 59>>\ @@.player;"I'll go greet people,"@@ you say, voice steady. Kendra smiles wide, clearly pleased. @@.girl;"Love that. Go get 'em, $name."@@ You head toward the entrance, adjusting your posture without even thinking about it—easy smile and relaxed shoulders. You approach the two girls first. @@.player;"Hey, welcome in,"@@ you say, casual and friendly, like you've done it a hundred times before. @@.player;"If you're looking for anything specific, just let me know. Otherwise, feel free to check out the new arrivals on the left."@@ Both girls glance up from their phones and smile back. @@.girl;"Thanks!"@@ one of them says, before they drift toward a table stacked with cropped jackets. You feel a little jolt of confidence and turn to the guy flipping through jackets next. @@.player;"Those just came in,"@@ you say, nodding toward the rack he's looking at. @@.player;"We're running a promo—buy one, get a discount on the second."@@ The guy glances over at you, evidently interested. @@.boy;"Oh, cool. Thanks, man."@@ You give him an easy nod and move back toward the front of the store, keeping half an eye on them but not hovering. It's a delicate balance—to be approachable without being pushy—but you're doing a good job at it. When you glance back at the counter, Kendra's watching you with an approving smile, arms crossed over her clipboard. @@.girl;"Look at you, already workin' the floor like a pro,"@@ she says with a wink. @@.girl;"We're gonna keep you around for sure."@@ You grin back, feeling a buzz of pride hum through you. Right now, you're making it work. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I'll, uh, greet people,"@@ you say, doing your best to sound confident. Kendra raises an eyebrow, clearly a little surprised, but then she smiles. @@.girl;"Love the initiative, $name. Go get 'em."@@ You nod, wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans when she's not looking, and make your way toward the front of the store. The closer you get, the heavier your footsteps feel. Your mind blanks in that horrible way it does way too often, and suddenly you can't remember what you're meant to say. You panic. @@.player;"Um... hi,"@@ you blurt, voice weirdly high-pitched. @@.player;"Welcome to... shopping."@@ They stare at you. One raises an eyebrow. The other bites her lip like she's trying not to laugh. You feel your face burning but barrel on, desperate to fill the silence. @@.player;"If you, uh, need clothes... I mean, if you want clothes. Which obviously, you do. Because you're here. In... the store."@@ Both girls exchange a look that's impossible to read but //definitely// not encouraging. @@.girl;"Thanks,"@@ one of them says flatly, before they turn back to their phones. You groan under your breath and pivot toward the guy flipping through the jackets, determined not to mess this one up. You had one more shot, and you were going to make the most of it. @@.player;"Hey!"@@ you say, a little too loudly. The guy jumps like you startled him. @@.player;"Uh, if you need a jacket—or like... advice... on jackets... I can help. Or not, if you're good."@@ He nods slowly, clearly unnerved, and mutters, @@.boy;"I'm good,"@@ before walking off toward the jeans section without looking back. You stand there for a second, feeling like you might actually dissolve into a puddle of goo out of embarrassment. You turn and shuffle back toward the counter where Kendra is watching you with barely concealed amusement. She doesn't say anything right away, opting to just offer a sympathetic smile. @@.girl;"First day jitters,"@@ she says kindly. @@.girl;"You'll get the hang of it. Promise."@@ You manage a sheepish smile. Maybe greeting people wasn't your calling. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "More work" "Day 17 - Mall 5">><</button>>

<<set $money += 45>>\ The next few hours pass by. You bounce between refolding tables, helping a few confused customers find sizes, and restocking a display of new hoodies that Kendra rolled out midway through your shift. She drifts by every now and then, offering a quick tip or thumbs-up, but for the most part, she leaves you to handle things on your own. It's busy enough to keep you moving without feeling overwhelming. The energy of the mall slowly shifts as the evening wears on—families clear out, teenagers flock to the food court, and workers start to close up shop. By the time it's late, your legs are a little sore and your arms ache from lifting stacks of clothes. But it's the good kind of tired—the kind of tired after a long day of being productive. Kendra waves you over to the register as you finish tidying a shoe display. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says with a grin, leaning casually against the counter. @@.girl;"That's about it for tonight."@@ You walk up, rolling your shoulder out with a slight wince. @@.player;"That wasn't so bad."@@ @@.girl;"Could've fooled me,"@@ she jokes lightly, then taps a few things on the store tablet behind the counter. @@.girl;"You handed yourself really well. Better than half the folks we've actually hired."@@ You smile, feeling that little glow of pride again. She finishes tapping and then holds up her phone, motioning for you to do the same. @@.girl;"We do instant pay for trial shifts,"@@ she explains. @@.girl;"You earned it."@@ A few clicks later, you feel your own phone buzz. You glance down at the screen and there it is—your first paycheck: three hours' worth, transferred straight to your account. Kendra beams at you. @@.girl;"Congrats, sugar. First paycheck in your pocket. And between you and me? You pretty much got the job if you want it. Just gotta fill out the last bit of paperwork next time you come in."@@ There's something real about it, especially with the money you've just received. @@.player;"Thanks, Kendra,"@@ you say. @@.girl;"Oh, don't thank me yet,"@@ she teases. @@.girl;"You ain't seen a weekend crowd."@@ She laughs, giving you a playful salute before heading toward the back to start locking things up. You tuck your phone into your pocket and grab your backpack. Outside, the mall lights are starting to dim, the night humming softly just beyond the glass door. Your first shift: done. <<button "Go home" "Day 17 - 7">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> <<if $temp is false>>\ <<button "Ask about pay and hours" "Day 17 - Question 1">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp1 is false>>\ <<button "Ask about the store you'd work in" "Day 17 - Question 2">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp2 is false>>\ <<button "Ask about uniforms and dress code" "Day 17 - Question 3">><</button>> <</if>>\ \ <<if $temp is true and $temp1 is true and $temp2 is true and $temp3 is true>>\ @@.girl;"So, what do you think?"@@ the woman asks. <<button "Accept the offer" "Day 17 - Mall 1">>\<<set $malljob to true>>\<<trackChoice "D17_accept_job" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Reject the offer" "Day 17 - Mall 1">>\<<set $malljob to false>>\<<trackChoice "D17_accept_job" false "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> You shift your bag higher on your shoulder, take a breath, and step forward. The sliding glass doors whoosh open with a cool blast of air conditioning, and you're immediately hit with the scent of tile floors and floral air fresheners. The pop music playing through the speakers feels oddly reassuring as you wander toward the main information desk. Workers rush by you with armfuls of boxes, a sense of urgency in every step. It's clear the mall's being held together by duct tape and hope right now. Behind the info desk, a woman in her late twenties wearing a Crestview Bay Mall polo shirt glances up from her tablet, offering you a tired but genuine smile. @@.girl;"Hey there,"@@ she says, tucking a pen behind her ear. @@.girl;"Here for the hiring signs?"@@ You nod, a little unsure, and she immediately brightens like you've just solved half her problems. @@.girl;"That's awesome,"@@ she says, tapping a few things on her screen. @@.girl;"We're desperate for some help right now, especially in the clothing section. You'd be working retail—folding clothes, restocking, helping customers, that kind of thing."@@ She leans in slightly, lowering her voice like she's letting you in on a secret. @@.girl;"It's actually one of the better spots. Way better than cleaning the food court or chasing down lost kids from the arcade."@@ You glance around. The clothing sections look sleek, clean, and pretty manageable... at least from a distance. @@.girl;"You'd start immediately,"@@ the woman adds, flipping through a clipboard now. @@.girl;"We really need some extra help right now, but weekend coverage is also imperative."@@ She sets the clipboard down with a soft thud and looks at you expectantly, like you might be the answer to her prayers. <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ \ <<button "Continue" "Day 17 - Mall Choice">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> <<set $temp to true>>\ You clear your throat, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. @@.player;"Uh, what are the pay and hours like?"@@ The woman lights up, like she's relieved you're even asking instead of turning and running for the exit. @@.girl;"Good question,"@@ she says, tapping her pen thoughtfully against her clipboard. @@.girl;"Starting wage is fifteen an hour—pretty standard for the mall. It's part-time, since we know a lot of people working here are high school or college students."@@ She flips to another page, scanning it quickly. @@.girl;"We're mostly looking for weekend help right now. Maybe four or five-hour shifts, depending on how busy it gets. We're flexible around school schedules as long as you show up when say you will."@@ You nod slowly, absorbing. @@.girl;"Actually, we could really use someone tonight,"@@ she adds, glancing at the clock behind her. @@.girl;"A few people bailed last minute, and the clothing section's a mess after the afternoon rush."@@ She leans on the counter, lowering her voice into something almost pleading. @@.girl;"Just a few hours. Three, max. After that, it would just be weekends unless you wanted to pick up extra shifts."@@ You glance toward the entrance of one of the bigger clothing stores—Threadz—where a teenager is trying to restock a table of jeans while a swarm of middle schoolers dismantle a rack of jackets two feet away. It doesn't look //that// bad. But it doesn't exactly look fun either. <<button "Continue" "Day 17 - Mall Choice">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> <<set $temp1 to true>>\ You glance toward the nearest cluster of stores, catching flashes of colorful displays and racks piled high with folded clothes. @@.player;"What stores would I be working in?"@@ you ask. The woman brightens immediately, flipping to another page on her clipboard. @@.girl;"It'd be at //Vibe Alley//,"@@ she says, tapping her pen against the name. @@.girl;"It's one of our trendier spots—kinda that perfect sweet spot for high schoolers and college kids. They sell clothes for everyone—guys, girls, whoever—lots of casual stuff, some dressier options, accessories, all that."@@ You glance toward the store as she speaks. //Vibe Alley// has a huge, open-front entrance framed with neon lights, along with ripped jeans and jackets on display at the front. A digital screen inside flashes rotating images of smiling teens and young adults posing in streetwear. It looks... cool. Intimidating, maybe, but cool. The woman must see the hesitation flicker across your face because she leans in a little, offering a reassuring smile. @@.girl;"Don't worry about fitting into some crazy fashion vibe or anything,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"The manager there—Kendra—she's //super// chill. She's the type who wears ripped jeans to meetings. Real easygoing. As long as you're responsible, she won't be breathing down your neck."@@ You relax a little, feeling the edge of nerves ease off. It sounds way better than you expected—definitely not the nightmare of angry managers you were imagining. @@.girl;"They're mostly just looking for someone who's friendly, can fold clothes without messing up the tables, and can handle helping customers when it gets busy,"@@ the woman adds with a shrug. @@.girl;"It's pretty low drama compared to some of the other places."@@ Behind her, the glassy entrance of //Vibe Alley// almost seems to beckon you, the pop beats leaking faintly from inside as a couple of teenagers in graphic tees and cargo pants stroll out with shopping bags swinging. <<button "Continue" "Day 17 - Mall Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp2 to true>>\ You shift your weight and glance toward the row of stores again before turning back to her. @@.player;"What about the uniform?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Is there a dress code or anything?"@@ The woman chuckles, shaking her head a little. @@.girl;"Honestly? Not really,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"As long as you look presentable, you're good."@@ She leans forward slightly, dropping her voice into a more conspiratorial tone, like she's letting you in on a secret. @@.girl;"They want you to look like you belong, you know? Casual, stylish if you can swing it, but nothing crazy strict. No full uniforms, no matching polos or anything like that."@@ She straightens again, smiling warmly. @@.girl;"Just wear something clean, something you feel comfortable in. Jeans, sneakers, casual tops—that sort of thing. They're way more interested in you being approachable."@@ You nod slowly, feeling the tension ease out of your shoulders. It sounded so official at first, but it's starting to seem more doable by the minute. It's just a chance to show up, be yourself, get the job done, //and// get paid too. @@.girl;"You'll fit right in,"@@ the woman adds, still smiling, her tone genuinely reassuring. @@.girl;"Trust me."@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 17 - Mall Choice">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 18>>\ The pale morning light seeps through your blinds, stretching across your bedroom like it's in no rush to wake you. You groan, still buried in a tangle of sheets, and blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. The screen lights up under your thumb, and there's already a list of notifications waiting like a small army. At the top is one from Pacific Crest High's official app, bright blue like it didn't just ruin your morning. ''⚠️ HOMECOMING WEEK REMINDER — TODAY IS DESK PET DAY!'' ''Bring a desk companion to keep you company during classes. Think plushies, figurines, toys, weird mascots—anything that lives rent-free in your heart.'' ''No live animals. There are no exceptions.'' You stare at the screen for a moment, blinking. Desk Pet Day. Only at //this// school. You rub the sleep from your eyes and sit up slowly, squinting around your room like it might offer up a solution on its own. The space is half-organized as always—hoodies flung over your chair, crumpled homework sheets lying around, and a pair of unmatched socks on top of your bookshelf for some reason you don't quite remember. Still, it's //your// mess, and within it are a few objects that could qualify as desk pets. You get up, stretch, and start mentally weighing your options. There //are//, in fact, a few things that you can bring. <<button "Bring a Creeper action figure from a Joyous Meal" "Day 18 - 2">>\<<set $d18deskpet to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_desk_pet" "creeper" "story">><</button>> <<button "Bring a rubber duck decorated like a clown" "Day 18 - 2">>\<<set $d18deskpet to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_desk_pet" "duck" "story">><</button>> <<if $plushie is true>>\ <<button "Bring your panda plushie" "Day 18 - 2">>\<<set $d18deskpet to 2>><<trackChoice "D18_desk_pet" "panda" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Bring a Furby" "Day 18 - 2">>\<<set $d18deskpet to 3>><<trackChoice "D18_desk_pet" "furby" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide not to participate" "Day 18 - 2">>\<<set $d18deskpet to 4>><<trackChoice "D18_desk_pet" "none" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18text is 3>>\ <<grantAchievement "TextNone">>\ You stare at your phone a second longer, thumb hovering just above the screen. No new notifications. No pings. Just the quiet glow of the lock screen and your own reflection faint in the glass. You //could// text someone. You could reach out. But the weight in your chest isn't heavy—it's just still. Like the day's folded itself neatly and is waiting to be set down. You turn your phone off and toss it on the nightstand. It misses by a few inches and lands face-down on the bed, but you don't bother fixing it. <<elseif $jordanRelo < 30 or $vincentRelo < 20>>\ You scroll up, rereading the short conversation that just occurred. What happened is clear, though—it fizzled out before it even really started. You stare at it for a second longer, thumb hovering, then pull it back. You turn off your phone. The screen goes black, and the room feels just a little heavier. The quiet presses in—not comforting, just... still. <<else>>\ The last bubble of text hangs on your screen, soft blue against the dim glow of your bedroom. The conversation has slowed, the back-and-forth tapering off like the end of a good song. You reread the last message once or twice, thumb hovering as if debating a reply—but there's nothing else that needs saying. Not tonight, anyway. You turn your phone off with a soft click. The room goes darker. You shift, letting yourself settle into the mattress, the hum of quiet wrapping around you. <</if>>\ You pull the covers up, the cool sheets brushing against your legs as you shift to get comfortable. The room hums with that low, late-night quiet—the kind that settles deep and asks nothing of you. <<if $goatplush is true>>\ You glance over at your goat plushie, slouched against the pillow like he owns the place. You grab him and pull him close, fingers brushing his fuzzy little horns. He's a dopey-looking thing, all lopsided, and you can't help but smile as you squeeze him gently. One of his legs sticks out at a weird angle, and you nudge it back like you're tucking him in. @@.player;"$goatplushieName,"@@ you whisper, almost like a roll call, and set him against your chest. It's quiet now, just you and him. Something about having him there—goofy and soft—makes the night feel easier. <<elseif $meerkatplush is true>>\ You reach out toward the nightstand, where your new meerkat plushie sits propped up like he's been waiting all day. You scoop him up without thinking, pressing him close to your chest. His tiny paws flop a little, his stitched eyes peeking up at you like he knows something you don't. You nudge his snout with your finger, muttering some nonsense under your breath like you're both in on a joke. It's silly and childish, but the way it fits against your arms feels right. You whisper the name you gave it once, $meerkatplushieName, and let it rest beside you. <<elseif $beeplush is true>>\ You reach over and grab the bee plushie from where he's nestled by your pillow, his stubby little wings sticking out like he's mid-flight. He's round and squishy, with a tiny embroidered smile and little felt antennae that you swear twitched under your fingers. You give him a light squeeze and murmur, @@.player;"$beeplushieName,"@@ under your breath. He fits perfectly in your arms, warm and familiar in that silly way only a stuffed bee can be. <<elseif $momplush is true>>\ Your thoughts wander—not to anything you bought for yourself, but to the fox plushie now sitting on your mom's nightstand. The one with the patchy ear, its fur soft from age and love. You wonder if she smiled when she set it down. If she gave it a little pat goodnight, or maybe even whispered something to it, just because. You hope she likes it. You ''really'' do. Something about the thought settles warm and low in your chest, like you gave her something that really did mean a lot. <<elseif $lilyplush is true>>\ Your thoughts drift—not to the shoes or accessories or any of the things you picked out for yourself, but to the red panda plush now resting on Lily's bed. Mochi. The one with the round ears, sleepy face, and little stitched paws. You picture her setting it down right before collapsing into bed, maybe giving it a quick squeeze or tucking it against her pillow. You hope she likes it. You really do. Maybe giving her that plushie meant more than just a cute gift. Maybe it said something you weren't always good at saying out loud. <<elseif $d18plushchoice is false and $plushie is true>>\ $plushieName's already on the bed, sitting just off-center on your pillow like he didn't want to assume you'd want him close. His little stitched eyes catch the moonlight, dull and waiting. You didn't bring anyone new home tonight—no smug goat, no cheerful meerkat, no wide-eyed bee. That, for whatever reason, makes the room feel heavier. $plushieName doesn't say anything, can't say anything, but he looks a little smaller than usual. Like maybe he thought today was the day he'd get a new friend to sit beside. You lie down next to him, feeling the soft press of his faded plush against your shoulder. It takes you a second before you whisper, @@.player;"Sorry."@@ His silence says it's okay. But it also says he's lonely. <<else>>\ The bed swallows you whole tonight. It's too quiet, too cold, too empty. There's no plushie waiting to curl against your side, no stitched smile meeting you halfway, no soft weight to pretend the silence isn't closing in. You never picked one. And now there's nothing. You curl in tighter, but it doesn't help. There's nothing to hold but yourself. <</if>>\ Your thoughts wander, soft and loose. Nothing sharp. Just images: someone laughing. Your own reflection in the mirror. A shopping bag. The weight of something warm in your hands. A faint, feminine voice. The feeling of being //seen//. Then the thoughts blur, your body softens, and sleep begins to fold itself around you. You don't dream right away. You just rest. <<button "Friday tomorrow!" "Day 19 - 1">><</button>>

<<if $d18deskpet is 0>>\ Your eyes scan your shelves again, trailing over books you haven't touched in years, an old lava lamp, and an empty box of lead for mechanical pencils. And there it is! Tucked between a cracked snow globe and a roll of tape. The Creeper. A tiny, plastic Creeper action figure from the game //Blockscape//. It's definitely from a Clancy's Joyous Meal. You don't even remember getting it—maybe someone gave it to you as a joke years ago—but somehow it's survived multiple cleanings, two room rearrangements, and a mysterious month in your backpack without breaking. It's ridiculous. And also... kind of perfect. You pluck it from the shelf and turn it over in your hand. The plastic is faded //just// enough to make it look like it's been through many battles. Its blocky body and head remain weirdly charming and a little nostalgic. @@.player;"Yeah, alright,"@@ you say out loud, tossing it a grin. @@.player;"You're coming with me."@@ You grab your backpack, unzip the front pocket, and slide the Creeper in carefully, making sure he's upright and ready for his day of being a desk mascot. He fits perfectly, like he's ready to explode at the slightest inconvenience. You sling your backpack over your shoulders and head toward the door, your new "pet" safely packed and ready to silently threaten your homework with doom. <<elseif $d18deskpet is 1>>\ Your eyes drift across your desk, shelves, and the top of your closet, trying to decide which object deserves the honor of sitting beside you during class. That's when you spot it. Half-buried under a notebook, peeking out just enough to catch the light with its unnerving, painted-on eyes. The clown duck. It's a rubber duck, sure. But it's not just //any// rubber duck. This one has a curly red wig sculpted from plastic, a painted-on white face with a huge smile, and a ruffled collar molded around its neck. The thing honks with the slightest bit of pressure, and it radiates a certain energy you can't quite describe. You honestly don't remember where it came from. A Halloween clearance bin? A gift from Samantha? A fever dream? All you know is it's been sitting in your room for years and somehow feels too powerful to throw away. You pick it up and stare into its eyes. It stares back. @@.player;"...You'll do,"@@ you mutter, almost reluctantly. You give it a quick wipe and then gingerly place it in the front pocket of your backpack. Its little face pokes out, and you can tell that it's //definitely// plotting something. You zip the bag halfway shut. There's no need to traumatize anyone. You grab your bag, adjust the straps, and head for the door—ready to unleash clown chaos on Pacific Crest High. <<elseif $d18deskpet is 2>>\ You're halfway through rejecting a number of options—too weird, too childish, too haunted—when your eyes land on something soft, round, and familiar sitting right at the foot of your bed. $plushieName. The little panda plushie you bought two weeks ago at the mall. You've told yourself at the time it was just a silly impulse buy, a bit of retail therapy. But you've kept him propped against your pillow ever since. He's small enough to fit in your hand, with fuzzy fur and big, shiny eyes. One of his ears is now permanently bent slightly forward—probably from the time you used him as a pillow. You pick him up without thinking and squeeze him once. Still soft. Still oddly comforting. You smile, a little more to yourself than to him. @@.player;"You're up, buddy. Time to see the world outside of this room."@@ He doesn't reply, of course. But in your head, you imagine him sighing dramatically, ready to face the chaos of Pacific Crest High alongside you. You grab your backpack and gently nestle $plushieName into the main compartment, carefully leaving his head sticking out just enough to breathe. Well... he doesn't really //need// to breathe, but still. You need to show respect. There's something kind of nice about bringing him today. Not as a joke or to make a statement, but just because he's yours. The morning light spills in from the window, warm and steady. You sling your bag over your shoulders and head for the door, $plushieName riding behind you. <<elseif $d18deskpet is 3>>\ You scan your room with a growing sense of dread. Plushies, action figures, novelty erasers—somehow, none of them feel right for Desk Pet Day. You want something memorable. Something that //screams// insanity. And then your eyes land on it. The Furby. It sits high on your bookshelf, nestled between a dusty trophy from elementary school and an old lava lamp. Its once-white fur is now a little gray with age, its beak permanently parted in a haunting smile, and its electronic eyes—big, glassy, and vaguely unsettling—glint in the morning sun like it //knows// you're looking at it. You don't remember the last time you turned it on, although that's probably for the best. But it's survived for years now, including that one time you tried to donate it before changing your mind at the last second. You slowly reach up and take it down, cradling it like a fragile artifact. @@.player;"Alright, nightmare creature,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"Let's go haunt a few classrooms."@@ You briefly debate whether to pull out the batteries before bringing it—just in case—but decide against it. If it starts talking in the middle of class, that's between you and fate. You tuck the Furby into the front pocket of your backpack. It fits surprisingly well, its ears sticking out at weird angles and its beady eyes staring blankly out into the room. It looks both horrifying and perfect. You take one last glance at yourself in the mirror and see the cursed gremlin in your bag. All ready. <<elseif $d18deskpet is 4>>\ You stare at the school notification on your phone for a while, rereading the words "Desk Pet Day" like they might make more sense the tenth time. They don't. You glance around your room—at the stuffed animals, toys, and weird little knickknacks scattered about. Some of them make you smile. Some just remind you how much you've changed. None of them feel like the right thing to pack. You sigh and toss your phone face-down onto your bed. Maybe it's the pressure to be clever about it. Maybe it's the idea of walking into class and pulling out a plushie. Maybe it's just that you're tired today. Whatever it is, the thought of participating just... doesn't appeal to you. You zip up your backpack without adding anything extra and swing it over your shoulder. There's a small, dull pang of guilt—like you're skipping out on a shared inside joke—but it's fleeting. Everyone will forget about it by lunch anyway. You can deal with sitting at your desk alone. <</if>>\ <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 18 - 3">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $outfit to 69>><<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Just wear something" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

<<if $d18deskpet is 0>>\ The morning air is crisp as you step outside. Per usual, Luke is already waiting for you at the end of your driveway, bouncing slightly on his heels like he's been standing there for five seconds but has already cycled through six different thoughts and three songs in his head. When he sees you, he throws both arms in the air like you've just arrived onstage. @@.luke;"Let's go!"@@ he shouts, then immediately lowers his voice like it was too loud even for him. @@.luke;"Dude. You're lucky I didn't text you five times. I've been SO ready for Desk Pet Day."@@ You chuckle, falling into step beside him as the two of you start the familiar walk toward Pacific Crest. Luke eyes your backpack, squinting like he's searching for something. @@.luke;"Alright, $name, spill it,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"What'd you bring? Don't say anything. I //know// you brought something. You have desk pet energy today."@@ You unzip the front pocket just enough for the little green head of your Creeper action figure to peek out. @@.luke;"NO WAY,"@@ Luke exclaims, skidding to a stop and clutching his chest. @@.luke;"Is that—is that a Joyous Meal Creeper?! The old one? Like OG survival mode vibes?"@@ You nod, already grinning. @@.player;"He's a little worn, but yeah. Somehow still intact."@@ Luke grins back. @@.luke;"Dude, that's so... iconic. Nostalgic. Literally explosive."@@ Then he unzips his own bag, clearly holding back the excitement of a magician about to reveal their greatest trick. @@.luke;"Okay, okay, okay. Prepare your soul. Because you are //not// ready for mine."@@ From his backpack, he pulls out a can of Munchmeat. You blink. It's not even a plush ham. It's a literal, unopened can. Slightly dented. He beams. @@.luke;"Meet Sir Hammington the Third. My emotional support meat."@@ You stop walking. @@.player;"You brought a can of fucking ham, Luke."@@ He nods solemnly. @@.luke;"Desk Pet Day said to bring what comforts you. Sir Hammington's been through a lot with me. Field trips. Finals. That time I got grounded for trying to duct tape myself to a drone and fly."@@ @@.player;"You are //so// weird."@@ Luke nudges your shoulder with a proud smile. @@.luke;"And you brought a tiny explosive cube with anger issues. We're perfect."@@ The two of you keep walking, laughter trailing behind you as the school comes into view. Whatever today brings, you've already got the best start possible. <<elseif $d18deskpet is 1>>\ The morning sun spills across the front yard, catching the dew on the grass as you step out of your house. As usual, Luke is waiting at the curb, practically vibrating with energy, arms folded over a messenger bag. The moment he sees you, he lights up. @@.luke;"$name,"@@ he yells dramatically, like it's been years instead of hours. @@.luke;"Tell me you brought something for Desk Pet Day. Tell me you didn't bail."@@ You smirk and unzip the front pocket of your bag just enough for the clown duck's curly red hair and ruffled collar to peek out. Luke leans in, squints, and then reels back in horror. @@.luke;"NO. No. What—what is that?"@@ @@.player;"A duck,"@@ you say flatly. @@.luke;"Bro, that is //not// a duck,"@@ he replies, staring like it might come alive. @@.luke;"That is a cursed spirit that climbed out of a sewer drain and decided to haunt a kid's birthday party."@@ @@.player;"I mean, you're not wrong."@@ Luke grins wide, then raises a dramatic hand to the sky like he's about to perform in the middle of the sidewalk. @@.luke;"You are not the clown, $name. You are—wait."@@ He squints. @@.luke;"You're not the clown... You're... you //bring// the clowns? No. You own the circus?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.luke;"No, hold on, I got it."@@ He pauses, then proudly declares, @@.luke;"You are not just the clown, you are the whole party!"@@ There's a long pause. @@.luke;"That's not it either, is it?"@@ he says, frowning. @@.player;"Not even close,"@@ you respond. @@.player;"But I appreciate the support."@@ @@.luke;"Okay, okay. Now it's your turn to be horrified."@@ He unzips his messenger bag with a flourish and pulls out a can of Munchmeat. A real, honest-to-God metal can of processed meat, the label slightly faded and the top dented like it's survived a few earthquakes. @@.luke;"Behold Sir Hammington the third,"@@ he says, holding it up like it's a sacred relic. @@.luke;"Emotional support. Emergency lunch. Paperweight. He wears many hats."@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"You brought... canned ham."@@ @@.luke;"Yup."@@ He pats the can fondly. @@.luke;"The school said no live animals. The pigs that contributed to this are long gone. A noble sacrifice, if you ask me."@@ You both laugh as the school comes into view at the end of the block, ready for whatever weird judgments your "pets" are about to enjoy. <<elseif $d18deskpet is 2>>\ You step outside into the soft morning glow, backpack over your shoulder. The gentle weight in the main compartment feels oddly comforting and familiar. Nestled inside is $plushieName—your little panda plushie. You bought him back at the mall two weeks ago, and you've quickly come to actually care about him. He's soft, perfectly round, and still has that slightly lopsided ear that makes him look like he's always a little confused. Luke's already waiting at the curb, hands shoved into his pockets, bouncing lightly. He perks up the second he sees you. The moment he spots $plushieName, his face //really// lights up. @@.luke;"Ayy, $plushieName is back in action!"@@ Luke beams, jogging a few steps toward you. @@.luke;"Man, I just //knew// you were gonna bring him. I was literally thinking about it last night."@@ You blink at him, eyebrows raised. @@.player;"Wait, how do you even remember his name?"@@ Luke stops dead in his tracks, placing a hand over his chest like you just personally insulted his honor. @@.luke;"Excuse me?"@@ You stifle a laugh as he glares at you, clearly wounded. @@.luke;"You think I forgot $plushieName? The panda you bought at the mall? The one that has been smugly sitting on your bed ever since?"@@ He shakes his head, deeply offended in the most Luke way possible. @@.luke;"I'm hurt. I remember //everything// important, including the name of your plush panda. And the fact that Samantha got that elephant at the exact same time and named it Trample because she said 'Crush' was too subtle."@@ @@.player;"Alright, alright,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"I believe you."@@ @@.luke;"You better,"@@ Luke says, still pretending to be outraged, though there's a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. @@.luke;"$plushieName is an official member of our friend group. He gets birthday cake now. It's canon, I'm telling you."@@ You chuckle, gently patting the plushie's fuzzy head. @@.player;"Well, he's ready for his first public appearance."@@ @@.luke;"And he's gonna crush it,"@@ Luke exclaims. @@.luke;"Just like Trample. Probably. Unless Sam's not in the mood to participate today. You never know with her, I swear."@@ @@.player;"Oh, she's definitely bringing it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"She'll complain about it until she gets to class, then spend ten minutes picking the perfect place to pose it on her desk."@@ @@.luke;"Classic Sam,"@@ Luke says, nodding sagely. Then with a mischievous glint in his eye, he unzips his bag like he's revealing a sacred artifact. @@.luke;"Speaking of classics, allow me to introduce—Sir Hammington the Third."@@ He dramatically reaches inside and pulls out a can of Munchmeat with both hands, holding it up like it's the Holy Grail. The metal catches the morning light, its dented side glinting just enough to make it look vaguely heroic. The label is partially peeling, but the bold red font still proclaims it as "Premium Baked Ham." You stop walking. @@.player;"You actually brought that?"@@ Luke beams. @@.luke;"Of course I did. He's seen many things over the years. Now he'll accompany me to school."@@ You laugh, shaking your head as the two of you keep walking. $plushieName peeks out from your main pocket, and from the look on Luke's face, you can tell he's //definitely// planning a crossover fanfic. <<elseif $d18deskpet is 3>>\ The early morning sun filters down through the quiet streets of your neighborhood as you step out the front door. Your backpack feels a little heavier than usual thanks to the... very specific passenger riding inside. You reach the curb just in time to see Luke pacing a little by the mailbox, ranting to himself about something. When he spots you, his face lights up. @@.luke;"There you are!"@@ he calls. @@.luke;"Did you bring one? Please tell me you brought something wild for Desk Pet Day."@@ Without uttering a word, you unzip your backpack's front pocket and tilt it toward him. A pair of wide, unblinking plastic eyes stare out. Tufts of synthetic fur. A beak. Mechanical ears. A relic of nightmares and dreams. Luke freezes. @@.luke;"No. No, $name. You did ''not''."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"I did."@@ @@.luke;"You brought a Furby,"@@ he says, voice full of awe and horror. @@.luke;"Like... an actual, functioning Furby?"@@ @@.player;"Well, functioning is generous,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It made a noise in my backpack while I was changing. I don't even know if it was turned on."@@ Luke inches closer, peering into the bag like he's not sure whether to bow or run. @@.luke;"This is next-level cursed. This isn't just a desk pet. This is a warning."@@ You zip it closed halfway, leaving just its creepy little eyes peeking out. @@.player;"I'm going to make it stare at my math teacher all period,"@@ you add casually. Luke bursts into laughter, nearly tripping over the sidewalk. @@.luke;"You're a menace. That thing's going to get you sent to counseling or summon you into another dimension."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Then at least I'll have company."@@ Luke pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. @@.luke;"I was gonna say I brought something weird, but man, there is no topping haunted Furby energy. The bar is in the basement now. In the dirt. In Furby hell."@@ You nudge him with your elbow. @@.player;"C'mon, now I //have// to know. What did you bring?"@@ Luke grins like he's been waiting for the question. @@.luke;"Alright, prepare yourself."@@ With the kind of theatrical flair that suggests he rehearsed this, he swings his messenger bag around, unzips it slowly, and then—with both hands—pulls out a can of Munchmeat. It's dented. The label curls at the edges. Faded red text proudly declares it as "Premium Baked Ham." The image on the label looks less like meat and like a pink blob. You blink. @@.player;"No way."@@ @@.luke;"Sir Hammington the Third. Long may he reign."@@ @@.player;"You're bringing a canned ham as your desk pet?"@@ He nods solemnly. @@.luke;"He's got presence. Gravitas. A quiet dignity. Also, I forgot to get anything last night, and this was the only thing here."@@ @@.player;"My Furby's better. It's got personality."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ Luke says, eyeing your bag with mild fear, @@.luke;"and //possibly// a soul. Mine's just processed pork. Safe and predictable."@@ @@.player;"And if it somehow explodes?"@@ @@.luke;"Then so be it."@@ You laugh as the school begins to come into view. Somehow, your Furby and Luke's Munchmeat still feel like the most unhinged pairing possible. And that feels exactly right. <<elseif $d18deskpet is 4>>\ The morning sun is already high enough to warm the sidewalk as you step outside, backpack slung over your shoulders. You feel light. Maybe //too// light. The front pocket of your bag, where a chaotic little desk pet could have lived, is conspicuously empty. And waiting at the end of your driveway, as always, is Luke. He spots you immediately and grins wide, waving like you've just returned from war. @@.luke;"There he is! Okay—tell me what you brought. I can tell it's gonna be good. You had that look in your eye yesterday. Like... unhinged potential."@@ You cringe slightly. @@.player;"Uh... I didn't bring anything."@@ Luke stops walking. Full. Stop. @@.luke;"You //what//."@@ You shrug, already bracing yourself. @@.player;"Yeah, I mean, I don't know. I couldn't decide. Everything felt kinda dumb, so I just... didn't."@@ @@.luke;"$name,"@@ he says, staring at you like you just told him you forgot your own name. @@.luke;"It's Desk Pet Day. The one time we get to bring cursed objects to school without judgment."@@ He slowly unzips his messenger bag, still maintaining intense eye contact, and pulls out a can of Munchmeat. He cradles it gently in both hands like it's his baby. @@.luke;"Look at this,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Look into his dented metallic soul. This is Sir Hammington the Third. My emotional support meat. And you brought nothing? You had infinite options, and you decided to go with the void?"@@ @@.player;"I just wasn't feeling it."@@ Luke gasps like he's physically in pain. @@.luke;"You're killing him, $name. Look—he's trembling."@@ You glance at the can of Munchmeat. It is very much //not// trembling. @@.player;"Yeah, he looks terrified,"@@ you deadpan. Luke gently returns the can to his bag like he's tucking in a child. @@.luke;"Well, now I gotta carry the weird energy for the both of us."@@ @@.player;"Per usual."@@ @@.luke;"True,"@@ he says, grinning again as the two of you fall into step toward school. @@.luke;"But I'm just saying, if your desk looks boring today, I'll loan you Hammington. Shared custody. You can have him on weekends."@@ You roll your eyes, but don't argue. Maybe you didn't bring anything, but with Luke around, it's not like your day's gonna be lacking in weird. <</if>>\ <<button "Go to school" "Day 18 - 4">><</button>>

The bell rings just as you slide into your desk in homeroom, the classroom buzzing with more energy than usual. Normally, mornings are quiet—just the scratch of pencils, the occasional yawn, and papers rustling. Not today. Today is Desk Pet Day and every desk has something weird on it. A plush unicorn in a glittery cape. A rubber lizard wrapped in a friendship bracelet. A garden gnome someone clearly stole from their grandma's lawn. A Barbie riding a toy dinosaur. A literal rotting potato with googly eyes glued to it. The room is alive with chatter and laughter as everyone compares pets, defends their choices, or explains the deep symbolism of why their desk is now home to a Funky Pop of a screaming chef. Ms. Carter, your homeroom teacher, stands near the whiteboard with her arms folded and an exhausted smile on her face. Her desk has a coffee mug shaped like a sloth hugging a tree. She refuses to acknowledge it. Jessica's already in her seat next to you—perfect posture, one leg crossed over the other, her desk pet carefully arranged in front of her. She's brought a porcelain cat figurine with a tiny velvet ribbon tied around its neck. Ms. Carter claps her hands once to quiet the room. @@.girl;"Alright, let's try and survive the next hour without someone's desk pet catching fire,"@@ she says dryly. A student two rows back gently lowers their remote-controlled robot dog. You lean back in your chair, surrounded by things you honestly can't even identify. It's ridiculous. It's loud. It's the kind of madness that makes Pacific Crest feel like home. <<button "Lunch!" "Day 18 - 5">><</button>>

The cafeteria hums with the usual lunchtime chaos. You make your way to the corner, where your table—claimed since sophomore year—is half-covered in crumbs, cracked in one spot, and eternally yours. Luke's already there, halfway through a tray of fries. Across from him, Samantha sits with one foot on the bench, a salad container in her lap, and eyes sharp. You slide into the seat beside her, and both of them pause, like they've been waiting for you. @@.samantha;"There he is,"@@ Samantha drawls. @@.samantha;"Mr. Capsule Wardrobe himself."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"What?"@@ Luke points at you with a fry. @@.luke;"She's been on this for, like, five minutes. Something about your entire closet being made of the same three items."@@ Samantha doesn't even look up from her salad. @@.samantha;"I'm just saying that I wouldn't need more than two crayons to color in a sketch of your outfit."@@ You realize that they're referring to your usual outfit. A plain white T-shirt and cargo shorts. It's comfortable, dependable, and //possibly// worn far too often. @@.player;"It's not that bad,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"You've been dressed like an NPC since middle school,"@@ Samantha says flatly. @@.samantha;"It's not an insult, mind you. NPCs are great, real reliable. I just think it wouldn't hurt to... expand your closet."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah!"@@ Luke jumps in, full of renewed purpose. @@.luke;"Like, surprise everyone with a cool outfit! Walk into school and suddenly people are surprised."@@ @@.player;"Come on, I have other clothes,"@@ you insist. @@.samantha;"Do you, though?"@@ Samantha asks, leaning in. @@.samantha;"The other stuff you have isn't that exciting either. I think half of your outfits use the white shirt as a base."@@ Luke squints dramatically. @@.luke;"I mean, now that I think about it, I haven't seen much."@@ @@.player;"Okay, fine,"@@ you say, throwing your hands up. @@.player;"So what if I have a uniform?"@@ @@.samantha;"It's not a uniform,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"It's a cry for retail help."@@ You open your mouth to argue, but she's already side-eyeing you. @@.samantha;"I mean, if you're not doing anything after school..."@@ she adds, more casually this time, twirling her fork like she's debating whether to stab the lettuce or you. @@.samantha;"I could take you to the mall. Help you pick out something that doesn't scream '$name.'"@@ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"Generous //and// insulting. How do I repay you?"@@ @@.samantha;"By letting me incinerate those shorts in a trash can,"@@ she replies without missing a beat. Luke, halfway through a mouthful of burger, lifts his head. @@.luke;"Wait, you guys are going shopping? That sounds—"@@ He pauses before slowly shaking his head. @@.luke;"Nope. I was gonna say fun, but I remembered I have practice."@@ @@.player;"Football?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ he nods. @@.luke;"Homecoming game's this weekend, remember? Coach has me running routes until my legs fall off. Apparently, I'm supposed to be 'explosive off the line' or whatever that means."@@ Samantha mutters, @@.samantha;"He probably means stop eating entire sleeves of MornPops before bed."@@ @@.luke;"How could you say that?"@@ Luke utters, a hand on his heart. @@.luke;"Also, MornPops //are// explosive. Emotionally."@@ You snort, and Samantha doesn't even bother hiding her grin. Luke leans across the table toward you. @@.luke;"But real talk? Even if I wasn't busy, I'd be useless. I have, like, two fashion settings: 'jersey' and 'shirt.'"@@ @@.player;"Didn't you once buy a shirt that just said 'no.' in Comic Sans?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"Yeah, and people loved it,"@@ he says proudly. @@.luke;"It was a mood."@@ Samantha gives you a sideways glance. @@.samantha;"So, what do you think, $name? You up for a little retail therapy?"@@ You shrug, trying to play it cool. @@.player;"I mean... maybe."@@ @@.samantha;"Maybe,"@@ she echoes with a sly smile. @@.samantha;"I'll take it."@@ Luke gestures with dramatic flair. @@.luke;"Go forth, my fashion children. I'll be scoring touchdowns while you discover the magic of jorts."@@ You shake your head and lean back in your chair, watching the two of them banter. Shopping sounds mildly terrifying, but with Samantha leading the charge, it doesn't seem quite as bad. Maybe even... kind of fun. In a mildly chaotic, soul-crushing way. <<button "Onwards!" "Day 18 - 6">><</button>>

<<set $shoes to 69>>\ You push open the front door of your home with your shoulder, your bag slipping halfway off as you toe off your shoes. The quiet hum of the house greets you—TV faint in the living room, the dishwasher running, that familiar soft stillness that means no one's rushing. You head straight upstairs, not even glancing at your phone. By the time you collapse face-first onto your bed, your backpack's already halfway on the floor and your arms are spread wide like you just finished a marathon. The fabric shifts uncomfortably against your skin, and overall it just feels snugger than you remember. Everything's been feeling a little... different lately. A little off. Or maybe too //on//, like the mirror knows more about you than you do. You shift, rolling onto your back, and let your eyes drift up to the ceiling. The light from the window cuts across your room in stripes, and for a second, it's just you and the slow tick of the clock on your wall. And then a knock. Your door opens a crack, and your mom pokes her head in. @@.girl;"Hey, sweetie,"@@ she says in that voice she uses when she's trying to be casual. You tilt your head, not quite sitting up. @@.player;"Hey."@@ She steps in, holding a laundry basket against her hip. She doesn't really look at it, though. Instead, her eyes flick to you—lingering for a second longer than usual, like she's noticing the way your frame sits in those clothes now. She doesn't comment. Not directly. @@.girl;"You, uh... you doing okay?"@@ she asks. @@.girl;"School alright?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, then add, @@.player;"It was Desk Pet Day."@@ She pauses. @@.girl;"Is that the one with the stuffed animals?"@@ @@.player;"And assorted emotional support objects, yes."@@ She smiles faintly and walks further in, setting the laundry basket at the foot of your bed. @@.girl;"You know, you //do// have to go shopping at some point,"@@ she says as she starts idly sorting socks. You blink. @@.player;"For...?"@@ She gives you a look. @@.girl;"Clothes that actually fit,"@@ she says gently. @@.girl;"Or clothes that feel more like you. Whatever that means now."@@ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ Your stomach twists, but not in a bad way. Not exactly. <<else>>\ Your stomach twists. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"$name, you've been wearing the same thing for ages. And I know they used to work. But... it's okay if they don't anymore."@@ You don't say anything right away. The room definitely feels heavier, but not in a bad way. Just real. She straightens up, holding a pair of socks that don't match. @@.girl;"You don't have to do a full runway show or anything,"@@ she says, flashing a quick grin. @@.girl;"But it might help. Trying stuff on. Seeing what fits now. learning what you like now."@@ You nod, barely. But it's enough. She pats the end of your bed, then grabs the laundry basket and heads for the door. @@.girl;"Oh, and if you want help paying for it,"@@ she adds, glancing back with a wink, @@.girl;"I still owe you for pretending to like my dumplings last week."@@ The door clicks shut behind her, and you're left with her words. They linger, weaving into the quiet. Clothes that feel more like you, huh? You lie there, staring at the ceiling, and let the idea settle in. Who should you go shopping with? <<button "Ask your mom" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom">>\<<set $d18shop to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_shop" "Ask your mom" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask your mom and Lily" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily">>\<<set $d18shop to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_shop" "Ask your mom and Lily" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask Samantha" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha">>\<<set $d18shop to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_shop" "Ask Samantha" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask Samantha and secretly invite Jessica" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica">>\<<set $d18shop to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_shop" "Ask Samantha and secretly invite Jessica" "rel">><</button>>

<<set $shoes to 69>>\ <img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> The door clicks shut behind you with a soft finality, and the quiet hits immediately. That mall buzz—fluorescent lights, layered voices, footsteps, and pop music—falls away. Your room welcomes you with its usual comfort: the familiar sprawl of half-finished homework, a pile of laundry that's become part of the decor, and the plant on your nightstand that's //somehow// still alive. You drop your bags near your desk and kick your shoes off without ceremony. Every muscle feels heavier than it should. Your arms, your legs, even your back aches in a dull way—not from one big thing, but from everything. From walking. From thinking. From holding yourself together through small, important moments. You fall into your bed like gravity itself personally invited you, arms splaying out wide, cheek pressing into the sheets. The quiet is a relief. You close your eyes and let it settle, let your breath slow. Maybe you could sleep like this. Maybe you should. But after a minute—maybe even less—you crack one eye open and glance at the bags again. They sit there innocently. Just fabric and receipts and plastic hangers. But your mind starts turning. Curious. A little restless. Your eyes drift toward the mirror on the wall. Nothing's changed about it. Same size, same angle, same $name. But you wonder. How would it feel to try it all on again, here in your own space, where no one's watching and nothing needs to be decided? Just you, the clothes, and the mirror. You sit up slowly, the softness of your bed reluctant to let you go. What should you do? <<button "Try on some of the clothes and pose in the mirror" "Day 18 - 8">>\<<set $d18pose to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_end_try_on_clothes" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Leave the bags untouched and rest" "Day 18 - 8">>\<<set $d18pose to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_end_try_on_clothes" false "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18pose is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "Pose">>\ <<set $nextScene to "Day 18 - Pose">>\ <<if $acceptance > 19>>\ <<if $transgender > 19>>\ You gather the bags with a quiet kind of intention, moving through your room with a sense of purpose that you honestly hadn't expected. There's no hesitation now—not in your hands, not in your chest. Just a steady rhythm as you lay each item out carefully, fingertips brushing fabric like you're afraid it might just dissolve if you handle it too roughly. But it doesn't. It's all real. Soft, textured, chosen. ''Yours.'' As you start changing, there's a sense of rhythm to it—nothing rushed, nothing hidden. Each motion feels familiar, like muscle memory you didn't know you had. The way the fabric settles against your body, the way it hugs in places that used to feel off and now feel oddly right. You glance toward the mirror once, just to check the fit, but your eyes linger a little longer than they should. You adjust a fold, fix a line, and tug gently at the hem. Then you really look. And your breath catches. There's a version of you in the mirror that you've seen in dreams, in daydreams, in glances that lasted just a little too long. But this isn't a dream. It's real. You're standing here, wearing something that doesn't feel like a costume or a disguise—it feels comfortable. You're not trying to be anyone else. You just look like you. You tilt your head slightly and shift your stance, letting your arms rest at your sides with a kind of delicate confidence. There's a warmth rising in your chest, subtle at first, but growing with every heartbeat. You take a small step forward, then another, spinning just a little to watch the fabric move with you. Your laugh, when it slips out, surprises you with how natural it sounds. You really hadn't noticed how much tension you'd been holding until it finally let go. You feel beautiful. Not because anyone told you so. Not because the lighting is good. Just because, for once, you don't feel like you're chasing your reflection—you're finally standing in it. As you smooth your top one last time and meet your own eyes in the glass, something shifts in the air. A tingle begins to crawl along your spine, soft and electric. It builds slowly, familiar now in a way that isn't frightening anymore. You place a hand lightly against your chest—not to brace yourself, but to stay grounded in this feeling. It's happening again. Another change is coming, and this time, you don't flinch. You don't question it. You just breathe in, let the warmth settle around you like a second skin, and welcome it. <<else>>\ You sit on the bed for a moment longer, then quietly get up and walk over to the bags. No drama or deep internal debate, just... a quiet decision. The clothes are still folded neatly from earlier, tags brushing against your fingertips as you lift them out one by one. It's strange how familiar they already feel—how easily they slip into place, like your body isn't fighting the shape of them the way it used to. You change without rushing. There's no hesitation, but no thrill either. Just a steady sense of calm. You glance at yourself in the mirror as you finish. No wince. No smile. Just a nod. It works. You shift your posture a little, trying different stances. Arms loose at your sides and shoulders relaxed. You don't go full model or try any goofy poses—you're not //that// comfortable—but you let yourself move in it. It's not a joke, and it's not something sacred either. It's just... fine. You tilt your head at your reflection. You still look like you. Maybe a version of you you hadn't expected to meet, but still you. And you're okay with that. You're not giddy. You're not caught in some moment of self-discovery. But you're not resisting it, either. This isn't a costume. This isn't a crisis. It's clothes. They feel good on your skin. That's enough. You glance down, adjusting a sleeve, and that's when you feel it. The chill. It spreads slowly—up your spine, across your shoulders, down through your fingertips. Your breath catches without meaning to, body tensing just slightly out of instinct. You know this feeling. You've felt it many times before. You look back up at the mirror and exhale, steadying yourself. You're ready. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You sit on the edge of your bed for a while, elbow on your knees, staring at the bags by your desk like they're staring back. Eventually, you sigh. You're not sure why you stand up. Maybe it's just to get it over with. Maybe it's curiosity, or just a small itch in your chest that says to look. Not for fun. Not to enjoy it. Just to understand—to put it on, stand there, and see if it's still weird. Still off. Still not //you//. You peel back the plastic and dig through what you picked out. You just think about the fabric, the color, and the shape. You change with mechanical precision, not letting your mind linger too long on any one motion. Just getting dressed. That's all. The mirror doesn't lie. You stand in front of it, arms slightly stiff at your sides. You shift your stance a little. Straighten your back. Set your jaw. Try to find something neutral in the way you hold yourself—nothing soft or dramatic. Just solid. The kind of pose that doesn't invite any questions. You try crossing your arms. Then uncrossing them. You don't feel ridiculous exactly. But you definitely don't feel comfortable either. Your reflection is clear, sure, but your reaction isn't. It's not disgust. Not panic. It's more like... staring at someone you don't know well enough to trust. You take a slow breath, flex your shoulders, and shift your weight again. Just trying to find a pose that'll make it all click. It never does. And then—right as you're about to turn away—you feel it. That //tingle//. Low in your spine. Creeping outward. Warm. Electric. The air feels thinner. Your skin prickles like the world just exhaled around you. You //know// this feeling. It's happening again. <</if>>\ <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>> <<else>>\ You glance at the bags again, sitting there next to your desk... but the moment passes. Not now. You exhale through your nose, soft and slow, and let your shoulders drop. There's no rush to figure it all out. No reason to try and squeeze more out of a day that's already asked so much of you. You shift back onto your bed, legs stretched and arms folded behind your head. The mattress creaks in a familiar way beneath you. Your body aches in that way that tells you that you've done enough for the day. The bags stay by the desk. Waiting. Quiet. You'll get to them when you're ready. You don't check your phone. Don't turn on music. You just let yourself //be//. Breathing in the calm, letting your mind go quiet for the first time in hours. It's not sleep. Not yet. But it //is// rest. <<button "Wind down" "Day 18 - 9">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $bra to 69>>\ <<set $bind to false>> The rest of the evening slips into a quiet, familiar rhythm. After changing out of whatever you ended up wearing, you toss your clothes into the laundry pile and drop onto your desk chair with a groan that probably belongs to someone twice your age. There's homework waiting—nothing complicated, just enough to be mildly annoying—so you chip away at it slowly. At some point, you wander into the bathroom and take a long, hot shower. The steam feels good. Your muscles finally start to relax, the pressure in your shoulders fading as the water runs over your back. It's one of those showers where you lose track of time. By the time you're back in your room, towel-drying your hair and digging around for your pajama top, the house has gone quiet. You throw your phone onto the bed, flop down beside it, and just stare at the ceiling for a while. You should sleep soon. But part of you doesn't want to. Not yet, at least. Your mind drifts—to the day, the people you saw, the ones you didn't. And a small thought bubbles up: //Should I text someone?// You glance at your phone. Just sitting there. Waiting. <<button "Text Luke" "Day 18 - Text Luke">>\<<set $d18text to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_text_companion" "luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Text Jordan" "Day 18 - Text Jordan">>\<<set $d18text to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_text_companion" "jordan" "story">><</button>> <<button "Text Vincent" "Day 18 - Text Vincent">>\<<set $d18text to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_text_companion" "vincent" "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't text anyone" "Day 18 - 10">>\<<set $d18text to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_text_companion" "noone" "story">><</button>>

<<if $recentTransformation is "breasts1">>\ You look down, having just grown boobs. Boobs. On your body. You can't help but feel \ <<if $transgender > 9>>\ happy for some reason. You don't know why, but you do feel a little happy. <<else>>\ nervous. <</if>>\ You think they're small enough that nobody will notice them for now, but you don't know what you'll do if they grow further. You decide to leave that for later though. <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - 9">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts2">>\ <<set $afterEvent to "Day 18 - 9">>\ You look down, realizing your boobs just grew. You gasp, realizing you can't hide them anymore. This is something you have to address. <<button "Address the issue" "Event - Breasts">><</button>> <<elseif $recentTransformation is "breasts3">>\ You realize your boobs just grew even more. You have medium-sized breasts now, and they are very noticeable. You've already decided to \ <<if $eventBind is true>>\ bind them so that nobody will notice you've grown boobs. It'll be uncomfortable, but something you have to deal with. <<else>>\ just leave them be regardless of if people notice you've grown boobs. You sigh and wonder what you'll tell your parents. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - 9">><</button>> <<else>>\ You realize you just changed again, but luckily it's a part you can hide. You breathe a sigh of relief. <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - 9">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $jordanRelo > 49>>\ <<if $d18jordanoption is 0>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You read his last message again and it does something to you. Not just because it's sweet, but because it's //him//. Jordan, the guy who barely talks to anyone, who gave you the cold shoulder the first time you met, who probably didn't even remember your name back then. And now? He's texting you at night saying things like this. You could just keep things casual. Keep it friendly, safe, unremarkable. But you don't want to. So you let the warmth guide your thumbs. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">careful</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">keep saying stuff like that and i might think you like talking to me or something</div> </div>\ </div>\ The second you send it, you feel that mix of nerves and hope buzzing under your skin—because it's not //too// much, not a big leap. But it's something. And it's enough. He takes a little longer this time. You start wondering if you misread it, if maybe he's already closed the app. But then the bubbles appear. Typing. Pausing. Then typing again. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">maybe i do</div> </div>\ </div>\ Three words. Simple. Blunt. But they land with more weight than you expect. You blink at the screen, then type quickly: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">oh?</div> </div>\ </div>\ And somehow that one-word reply says everything you want to ask. His response comes a few seconds later: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i mean</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i dont rly text ppl</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">not unless i wanna talk to them</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">and i dont rly wanna talk to most ppl</div> </div>\ </div>\ You smile, warmth creeping into your face as you pull your blanket closer around your shoulders. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">well im honored lol</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">u should be</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">this is a pretty exclusive service</div> </div>\ </div>\ You let out a soft laugh through your nose. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">does it come with customer support?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">only if ur very polite</div> </div>\ </div>\ You shake your head, grinning like an idiot now, the kind of grin that only happens when something clicks. Not like a sudden spark, but like something quietly falling into place. You stretch out under your blanket, the glow of the screen lighting your smile. And when the typing bubble flickers again, your heart already knows it's not over. Jordan isn't pushing you away. Not tonight. Not anymore. <<elseif $d18jordanoption is 1>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You reread Jordan's last message, and there's a quiet honesty to it that catches you off guard. It's not dramatic, not some huge declaration, but coming from //him//, it means something. You settle deeper into your blanket, thumbs moving without much hesitation this time. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">that means a lot actually</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ur easy to talk to too</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">...when u want to be</div> </div>\ </div>\ There's a pause, and then the typing bubble pops up again almost immediately. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">lol yh</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i know im not exactly a social butterfly</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">nah, but when u talk, its worth listening to</div> </div>\ </div>\ You're not laying it on thick or anything—just being honest. And Jordan doesn't deflect like he used to. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i appreciate that</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">seriously</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i dont hear that kind of thing often</div> </div>\ </div>\ That makes you pause. Not because it's surprising, but because it hits deeper than you expect. You stare at the message, then type: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">ur a good person, $name</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">like actually good</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">not fake nice</div> </div>\ </div>\ You blink at that. Then, without thinking, type: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">you too</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">even if u pretend ur all grumpy and mysterious</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">lol ok fair</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">but dont tell anyone</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">ive got a rep to protect</div> </div>\ </div>\ You grin. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">secrets safe with me</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">good</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i trust u</div> </div>\ </div>\ The words are simple, but they land like something solid. You pull your blanket higher, a quiet calm settling over you that wasn't there before the conversation started. You weren't flashy or romantic, but you were real. And that matters. <<elseif $d18jordanoption is 2>>\ You read Jordan's message and grin a little, the corners of your mouth tugging up before you even realize it. That kind of honest from Jordan used to be rare. Early on, he barely gave you more than a nod. Now he's texting you at night, being real, even kind of soft. You could meet him in that same softness—keep it friendly, warm, maybe even a little sweet. But the moment feels just right for something else. So instead, you lean into the grin and type: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">wow</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">soft jordan hours??</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">never thought id lived to see the day</div> </div>\ </div>\ He doesn't take long to reply: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">dont get used to it</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i have a reputation to maintain</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">as a grumpy athlete with one facial expression?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ur rly branching out...</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">hey</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i have at least two facial expressions</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">the other one is when the vending machine actually works for once</div> </div>\ </div>\ You snort as you type back: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ive seen that once</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">its basically joy mixed with awe</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">can u blame me tho?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">those peanut butter crackers keep me going</div> </div>\ </div>\ The rhythm is easy now. Back-and-forth with no awkward gaps, no hesitation. You can almost hear him saying the words, see the smirk on his face as he types them. It's weird to think about how natural this feels now. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">well, ig im honored to be included in ur sacred snack time texts</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">hmm</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">ur like... second tier sacred</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">right below vending machine</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">but its close</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">second tier??</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">disrespectful</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">fine</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">tied</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">but only if the machines out of crackers</div> </div>\ </div>\ Your chest feels lighter than it has all day. You're both smiling—you know for a fact that he is. You don't need to see it to feel it. Right now it feels like you're exactly where you're supposed to be. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d18jordanoption is 0>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You stare at his message for a second longer than you meant to, the corners of your mouth pulling into a small smile. The compliment he sent is the kind that could easily be brushed off. But coming from Jordan, it's practically a sonnet. And you know he didn't have to say it. That kind of casual praise doesn't come from him often or easily. So you let your fingers move, not overthinking it—but maybe thinking just enough. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">thats nice of u to say</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ur not bad urself, yknow</div> </div>\ </div>\ You stare at the message for a second, debating whether it's too much. It isn't. It's barely a nudge. You hit send. The dots appear pretty fast. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">lol</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">im just surviving over here</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">well ur handling it pretty well</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">kinda impressive tbh</div> </div>\ </div>\ This time, the pause is longer. Not in a bad way—just like he read it twice. Then: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">thanks</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">ur kind of surprising, u know that?</div> </div>\ </div>\ You tilt your head at the screen, surprised. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">how so?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">idk</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">just didnt expect u to text me tonight ig</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">not complaining tho</div> </div>\ </div>\ Your chest does a little twist at that—small, but noticeable. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">guess i just felt like talking to you</div> </div>\ </div>\ You wait. He doesn't joke. Doesn't push it away. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">well... im not gonna tell you not to</div> </div>\ </div>\ You lean back into your pillow, a soft smile tugging at your mouth, warmth blooming in your chest. It's nothing serious. Nothing concrete. Just a door opened a crack—and Jordan didn't close it. Not yet. Not at all. <<elseif $d18jordanoption is 1>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You read Jordan's message again, thumb brushing the edge of your phone. It's simple, but it's not empty. Especially coming from him. You smile a little, then type back, keeping it light. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i appreciate that</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ur pretty solid too tbh</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i feel like u dont say much, but when u do, it hits</div> </div>\ </div>\ A pause. Then: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">lol</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">coach says that too</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">"quiet until it matters" or whatever</div> </div>\ </div>\ You let out a quiet laugh through your nose. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">guess that means i should take it personally when u do talk to me</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">in a good way ofc</div> </div>\ </div>\ The typing bubbles come up faster this time. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">its cool</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i dont talk much</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">and def not to everyone either</div> </div>\ </div>\ You glance at that message a little longer than the others. Jordan's not the type to drop those kinds of lines if he didn't mean them. You respond: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">well im glad ur talking to me</div> </div>\ </div>\ There's a small pause, then: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">me too</div> </div>\ </div>\ It's quiet after that. Not in a bad way. Just... settled. You lean your head back against the headboard, the light from your phone soft on your face. Jordan's messages are still up on the screen, and something about the conversation feels like a step forward. There's nothing dramatic. No big shift. But there //is// a kind of warmth that builds slowly. Jordan's not a talker. But tonight, he talked to you. And that matters. <<elseif $d18jordanoption is 2>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You read Jordan's message again, and it is a nice thing to say. Genuine, even. But instead of leaning into the warmth, you let a smirk pull at your lips as your thumbs move across the screen. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">wow</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">high praise from the silent wall in the back row</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">should i frame this or just engrave it on something dramatic?</div> </div>\ </div>\ You send it before thinking too hard. It's teasing, yeah—but light. The typing bubble flickers for a few seconds, then stops. Then comes back. Finally, a reply: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">lol</div> </div>\ </div>\ That's it. You blink, suddenly aware of how short that looks. You try to recover: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">kidding btw</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">appreciate it tho</div> </div>\ </div>\ Another pause. Longer this time. Then: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">yeah is all good</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">gonna head out tho</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">night</div> </div>\ </div>\ Just like that. You stare at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard, debating whether to type something else—but you don't. You know a brush-off when you see one. He's not mad. He's not being rude. He's just... done. You toss your phone onto the mattress with a soft sigh and sink back into the pillow, the weight of the silence suddenly sharper than it was before. Lesson learned. Jordan's not big on jokes that put walls between people. Next time, maybe you'll meet him where he is. Or maybe you won't get a next time. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - 10">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "TextJordan">>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $jordanRelo > 49>>\ You roll onto your side, one arm tucked under the pillow, your phone balanced just in front of your face. The screen glows softly, and Jordan's name at the top of the screen feels different tonight—not distant, not uncertain. Just //there//. He was always guarded. The kind of guy who kept his walls high and didn't offer second chances easily—especially not after that first run-in at the mall, where he bumped into you and acted like //you// were the problem. It wasn't exactly the start of a friendship, to say the least. But somehow, through every awkward moment, every careful conversation, you chipped away at the distance. And now... here you are. You send: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hey</div> </div>\ </div>\ And not even five seconds pass before your screen lights up again: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">hey u</div> </div>\ </div>\ You feel that now-familiar warmth ripple through you. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i couldnt sleep tbh</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">figured u might be up too</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">was literally just abt to text u lol</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">guess were synced or smth</div> </div>\ </div>\ You grin. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">guess im psychic</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">youd tell me if u were, right?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">like if u knew i was gonna fall down the stairs tmrw or some shit</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ofc!</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">but only after it happens so i can laugh</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">lmao</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">rude</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">but fair</div> </div>\ </div>\ You bite your lip, caught somewhere between smiling and rereading everything. His typing bubble flickers again. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">today was long</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">but this kinda makes it better</div> </div>\ </div>\ You pause. Let the message sit there for a moment. Reread it. Then you type: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">yeah?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">talking to you is like</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">idk</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">its nice</div> </div>\ </div>\ There's no ellipsis at the end. No emojis. Just an honesty that Jordan only gives when he //really// means it. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">you make it easy to talk, i guess</div> </div>\ </div>\ You stare at the screen for a while and realize that yeah—//this// is what all those slow choices, awkward early texts, and half-finished hallway conversations led to. Something real. Something warm. Something worth having. And now, anything could happen next. <<button "Be flirty" "Day 18 - Text Jordan 1">>\<<set $d18jordanoption to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_jordan_reply" "flirty" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Be friendly" "Day 18 - Text Jordan 1">>\<<set $d18jordanoption to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_jordan_reply" "friendly" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Be teasing" "Day 18 - Text Jordan 1">>\<<set $d18jordanoption to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_jordan_reply" "teasing" "rel">><</button>> <<elseif $jordanRelo > 29>>\ You sit cross-legged on your bed. The day's over, the lights have been dimmed, and your phone rests next to you, screen lit and waiting. You scroll aimlessly through apps, unread group chats, and half-typed notes to yourself before landing on something you weren't really looking for. Jordan. You haven't spoken to him today. Didn't cross paths at lunch, didn't run into him between classes. He's been lingering at the edge of your mind lately—quiet, steady, the kind of presence that makes you wonder if he's thinking about things as much as you are, even if he never says it. Your thumb hovers. Then, before you can talk yourself out of it, you type: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hey</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">just figured id check in</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i hope thats not weird</div> </div>\ </div>\ You wait. The reply takes a little longer than you'd like, but not long enough to make it uncomfortable. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">nah not weird</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">hey</div> </div>\ </div>\ Short and chill. The way Jordan always is. You lean back against your headboard, thumbs moving without too much thought. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i couldnt sleep tbh</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">kinda just laying here doing nothing lol</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">same</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">been meaning to crash for like an hour but my brains being annoying</div> </div>\ </div>\ You smile a little, pleasantly surprised that he's engaging. Jordan's not exactly the late-night texter type. But he's here. And he's responding. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i get that</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ive just been overthinking stuff</div> </div>\ </div>\ He doesn't ask what. But a few seconds later, he replies anyway: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">hope its nothing bad</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">ur chill tho</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">seems like youve got your head on better than most ppl</div> </div>\ </div>\ That makes your eyebrows lift a little. He wouldn't say that if he didn't mean it. Jordan's not the kind of guy who talks just to fill silence. You glance at your screen again, considering what to say next. <<button "Be flirty" "Day 18 - Text Jordan 1">>\<<set $d18jordanoption to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_jordan_reply" "flirty" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Be friendly" "Day 18 - Text Jordan 1">>\<<set $d18jordanoption to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_jordan_reply" "friendly" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Be teasing" "Day 18 - Text Jordan 1">>\<<set $d18jordanoption to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_jordan_reply" "teasing" "rel">><</button>> <<elseif $jordanRelo > 14>>\ You hesitate for a second, then tap Jordan's name. It's not like you two are close. Barely acquaintances, really—just a few shared moments and a couple hallway nods. He's still a mystery. Quiet. Guarded. Still, your thumb moves. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hey</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">couldnt sleep lol</div> </div>\ </div>\ The message hangs there for a bit. You almost regret it before the typing bubble finally shows. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">why are you messaging me</div> </div>\ </div>\ You blink. Not surprised, but yeah—it stings a little. You type back: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">idk</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">just felt like saying hi</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hru?</div> </div>\ </div>\ It takes longer this time. When his reply comes, it's clipped: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">im fine</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">dont rly do small talk tho</div> </div>\ </div>\ You stare at the screen, debating whether to push it or just back off. Against your better judgement, you type: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">sorry</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">just thought maybe youd want to talk</div> </div>\ </div>\ Seen. Nothing. Then, finally: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">im not trying to be rude, just not in the mood for this</div> </div>\ </div>\ That's it. You lock your phone and set it down beside you, the faint blue glow fading into darkness. Your chest feels a little hollow—not broken, not dramatic, just... empty space where something almost was. <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - 10">><</button>> <<else>>\ You stare at Jordan's name on your screen, thumb hovering above it. There's no logical reason to text him. You barely even know the guy. Every time you've interacted, he's been quiet, reserved, always a little hard to read—like he's halfway out the door, even when he's standing right in front of you. But still. Something pushes you to tap his name. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hey</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">sorry if this is random lol</div> </div>\ </div>\ It takes a minute before the typing dots appear. Then vanish. Then reappear again. Finally: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">why are you messaging me</div> </div>\ </div>\ You type back quickly, trying to recover some footing: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">oh sorry</div> </div>\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i just couldnt sleep</div> </div>\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">felt like saying hi</div> </div>\ </div>\ There's a long pause. Like //really// long. You consider putting your phone down, but then a reply pops in: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">we dont really talk</div> </div>\ </div>\ No emoji. No punctuation. Just that. You hesitate. Thumb hovering over the screen again. You type: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">yeah i know. i just thought maybe...</div> </div>\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">idk</div> </div>\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">forget it</div> </div>\ </div>\ Seen. No reply. You close the chat, turn your phone face down on the bed, and lie back into the silence. There's no sting, exactly. You expected this. Jordan doesn't let people in, especially not over a late-night text from someone he barely knows. Still, you tried. You turn off your light and the room folds into quiet. <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - 10">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $lowercasename to $name.toLowerCase()>>\ <<if $d18lukeoption is 0>>\ You think about dodging the question. Luke's the type to latch onto the tiniest thing and never let it go—but he's also probably the only person who could make you feel completely normal about saying something kind of personal without making it an entire thing. So, you go for it. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">went shopping</div> </div>\ </div>\ His response comes so fast that you wonder how he managed to type it out so quickly. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">YO??!!</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">with money?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">for clothes??</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">yes, luke</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">for clothes</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">no more white tee and cargo shorts?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">this cant be real...</div> </div>\ </div>\ You roll your eyes, grinning anyway. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">bro it was one time</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">IT IS EVERY TIME</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i was starting to think that outfit was fused to your body</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">im not that bad</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">$lowercasename.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">you've been wearing that same white shirt since high school started</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">okay fine</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">maybe i needed it</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">maybe???</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">$lowercasename we were gonna have to stage an intervention</div> </div>\ </div>\ You snort, stretching your legs out under your blanket. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">so? whatd u get?</div> </div>\ </div>\ You hesitate—because //what// you got is complicated. But //that// you went? That's enough for now. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">some stuff</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">some new</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">it was... different</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">proud of u</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">next step is fashion montage</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">ill bring the snacks, u try on hats</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">we make bad decisions together</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">im not getting a hat</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">coward</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">youll live</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">idk if i will...</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">glad u got some stuff tho fr</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">feels kinda cool right?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">doing something for yourself</div> </div>\ </div>\ You stare at that one for a while. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">yeah</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">it actually did</div> </div>\ </div>\ He doesn't say anything else right away, but he doesn't //need// to. Sometimes, Luke jokes like he breathes. But once in a blue moon, he lands something honest right when you need it. And then he leaves it there. Lets it sit. Like a good friend does. <<elseif $d18lukeoption is 1>>\ You glance down at Luke's text and your fingers hover over your phone's keyboard. You could tell him. He wouldn't judge. He never does. But something about it—about putting it into words—feels a little too personal tonight. Too complicated to unpack over texts. So instead, you keep it simple. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">long day</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">just tired now</div> </div>\ </div>\ It only takes a second for him to reply. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">gotchu</div> </div>\ </div>\ You exhale a little, grateful that he's not prying. Luke might be loud, ridiculous, and powered by straight vibes, but when it matters, he knows when to back off. A few dots flicker on the screen. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">ykw that reminds me of that one time last year when i had a long day and accidentally wore my shorts backwards</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i didnt notice</div> </div>\ </div>\ You blink. Then slowly type: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">...how?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i just thought the waistband felt a little loose</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i thought id invented a new freedom of movement or smth</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i was proud of myself</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">you wore them through all of your classes???</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">yeah</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">no one said anything</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i dont even know what to say to that</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i also got blue sharpie on my hand that day</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">it wouldnt scrub off no matter what</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i just accepted it as a permanent part of my skin tone</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">was at peace fr</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">it was gone when i woke up the next day tho</div> </div>\ </div>\ You snort, burying your face into your pillow. Even his dumbest stories feel like comfort food. He just stays with you. Distracts and makes space in the only way he knows how. And honestly? It does help. <<elseif $d18lukeoption is 2>>\ You stare at the screen for a second, thumb hesitating, then type: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">do u ever feel different based on what u wear?</div> </div>\ </div>\ There's a longer pause this time, and for a second you think maybe he's going to say something surprisingly deep or thoughtful. Then: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">like physically??</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">yeah</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">tight jeans make me walk like a fancy crab</div> </div>\ </div>\ You blink. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">no like mentally or emotionally or smth</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">like does that ever mess w/ how u feel or how u seel urself or smth</div> </div>\ </div>\ Another pause. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">ohhhh</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i get what u mean</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">when i wear my tank top i 100% believe i could outrun a mountain lion</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">like on foot</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">its just vibes</div> </div>\ </div>\ You stare at your screen for a long time. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">thats not what i meant...</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">but good to know ig</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">also when i wear sweatpants i feel so lazy</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i swear they do smth with the material</div> </div>\ </div>\ You huff out a laugh, shaking your head as your fingers type: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">thanks luke</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">very profound</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">anytime!!</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">fashion is the window to the soul</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i think i read that on a protein bar once</div> </div>\ </div>\ You don't bother replying right away. You're too busy silently laughing into your pillow, wondering how someone so completely off the mark can still make you feel so much better. <<elseif $d18lukeoption is 3>>\ You glance at the screen and decide to dodge the question. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">what did u do today, huh?</div> </div>\ </div>\ His reply comes back almost instantly, like he'd been waiting for the invitation. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">ok so</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i tried to fix the dishwasher bc mom said it was leaking</div> </div>\ </div>\ You already brace yourself. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">and i may have made things a little worse</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">by "fix" i mean "hit it gently with a hammer"</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">and by "gently" i mean "aggressively"</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">and by "hammer" i mean "skateboard"</div> </div>\ </div>\ You cover your face with your hand, laughing onto your palm. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">HOW</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">why would ur brain think that was a good idea</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">bc it was making this THUNK sound and my brain said "thunk it back"</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">also i wanted to see if it would stop if i just scared it enough</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">did it?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">no</div> </div>\ </div>\ You're full-on grinning now. You can practically //hear// his voice in the texts, too loud and too proud. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">anything else?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">or just domestic destruction</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">oh wait</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i wore two different shoes to school</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i gaslit myself into thinking it was on purpose tho</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">and now it IS on purpose</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">its called fashion $lowercasename go look it up</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">im calling the police</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">theyll never catch me</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">im too lopsided</div> </div>\ </div>\ You set your phone down for a second, laughing into your blanket. Luke's chaos is its own unique kind of comfort. The world might be weird and unstable, but at least this is reliable. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - 10">><</button>>

<<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "TextLuke">>\ You scroll through your messages, thumb flicking past half-read group chats and old notifications before landing on Luke's name. You don't even hesitate. If there's one person who'll always be happy to hear from you, no matter the time, no matter the reason—it's Luke. You tap his name. The typing bubble is already blinking before you even finish hitting send. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">you up?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">DUDE</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">yes i am so up</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i was literally just thinking of u wtf get outta my brain</div> </div>\ </div>\ You snort, already smiling. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">creepy</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">but ok</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">just admit it</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">ur HONORED to live rent free in my brain</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">pretty sure ur brain is like...</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">a broom closet</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">with a leaky pipe and weird carpet</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">but sure, honored</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">RUDE</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">my brain is at least a deluxe storage unit and u know it</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">im putting a lava lamp in there out of SPITE</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hope it catches fire</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">damn</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">$name betrayal speedrun any%</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">ANYWAY</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">whats up??!!</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">what were u doing today</div> </div>\ </div>\ <<button "I went shopping" "Day 18 - Text Luke 1">>\<<set $d18lukeoption to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_text_luke_convo" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "I had a long day" "Day 18 - Text Luke 1">>\<<set $d18lukeoption to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_text_luke_convo" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "You ever feel different based on what you wear?" "Day 18 - Text Luke 1">>\<<set $d18lukeoption to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_text_luke_convo" 2 "story">><</button>> <<button "What did you do today?" "Day 18 - Text Luke 1">>\<<set $d18lukeoption to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_text_luke_convo" 3 "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18vincentoption is true>>\ You write up a text, plan and casual: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">went shopping today</div> </div>\ </div>\ It takes about ten seconds for Vincent to respond. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Oh! Cool! Like for clothes or... supplies?</div> </div>\ </div>\ You grin at your phone. "Supplies" is such a Vincent word. You reply: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">clothes</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">it was nice</div> </div>\ </div>\ There's a longer pause this time, but you can feel the gears turning on the other end. Then: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Nice!</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Clothes are important. I mean, obviously. But I think people sometimes forget they're not just about utility. There's like, identity involved. Cultural expression. Statement of self. Aesthetic cohesion. All that.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You blink at your phone. That was... surprisingly insightful? <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">I sound like I'm quoting an article but I swear I'm not.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">I just remember reading something about how sumptuary laws used to control what people were allowed to wear based on class. Like "you're a baker, no velvet for you." So now that we can wear what we want, that's actually kind of revolutionary.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Not to be dramatic, but you may have stuck it to the ghost of a medieval magistrate today!</div> </div>\ </div>\ You laugh into your blanket. It's not the kind of support you were expecting—but in a weird way, it's exactly what you needed. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">vincent</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">r u saying my shopping trip was historically significant?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">I'm saying it was a quiet act of fashion-based rebellion and I support it completely.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Even if I have no idea what you bought.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">I hope it's excellent and makes you feel like the protagonist of your own novel.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You stop and read that one twice. There's an awkward sweetness to it. Like he doesn't fully know what he's doing, but he's trying so hard to show up for you in his own Vincenty way. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">thx</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">it kind of does</div> </div>\ </div>\ He replies with a sparkle emoji, immediately deletes it, and then follows it up with: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Sorry.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">That was weird.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Ignore the emoji.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You don't. You just smile, phone glowing in your hand, and type out a quiet reply. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">it wasnt weird</div> </div>\ </div>\ <<elseif $d18vincentoption is false>>\ Your thumbs hesitate for a second before hitting send. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i wont judge if u do monologue</div> </div>\ </div>\ You imagine him blinking at the screen, somewhere between flattered and horrified. A few seconds pass, and then your phone buzzes. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Wait, really? Like... actually? I'm not just a bit, right? You're sure?</div> </div>\ </div>\ You smile and settle deeper into your pillows, blanket bunched around your shoulders. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">im fr</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">go for it</div> </div>\ </div>\ There's a momentary pause, like he's trying to stop himself—then gives in completely. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Okay, so I've been digging into this late 14th-century diplomatic correspondence during the War of the Eight Saints between the Republic of Florence and Pope Gregory XI, and it's wild how intense and idealistic they were. Like, look, there's this one letter where Coluccio Salutati, the Chancellor of Florence, writes to the city of Lucca and urges them to resist papal authority. He says something along the lines of "Remember that you are Italians, born to rule others, not to serve them."</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">And when the Pope responded, it wasn't some soft apology. Pope Gregory XI condemned Florence in official bulls and placed the entire city under interdict, cutting them off from the sacraments and declaring everyone who supported them as heretics. He basically said: "You oppose the Church, you oppose God." It was full spiritual warfare mode.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">And Salutati? He just kept writing—quoting Roman philosophers and arguing that the Pope was acting like a tyrant.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You're grinning now. Somehow, all the weight of the day just sort of softens. It's not that they disappear. But Vincent's words fill the silence in a way that doesn't press on you. Doesn't expect anything from you. It's just him. Rambling, passionate, a little awkward, and totally sincere. He keeps going. You let him. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - 10">><</button>>

<<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "TextVincent">>\ <<if $vincentRelo > 19>>\ You scroll through your contacts, your thumb hovering over names. You think of Jordan—too intense for tonight. Luke—maybe too much energy. Then your eyes land on ''Vincent''. Something about his name on your screen makes your chest feel a little lighter. He's awkward, sure, and sometimes says things that sound like they belong in an encyclopedia, but there's something comforting about how //genuine// he always is. He never fakes being cool. Never tries to impress anyone. He's just him. Vincent. You tap his name and start typing. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hey vincent</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">you up?</div> </div>\ </div>\ A minute passes. Then another. And then: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Oh! Yes, hello. I wasn't expecting a message from you. I'm awake.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You can already picture him, probably sitting in bed with his laptop open, surrounded by notes for three different assignments. Maybe a half-empty mug of coffee nearby. You smile a little. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i was just thinking</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">figured id say hi</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">I'm glad you did. My brain was spiraling over whether I accidentally submitted my chem homework twice, so this is honestly a relief.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You laugh softly under your breath. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ud be the first person i know who spirals over being too productive</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">It's more about the potential for chaos in the system. Redundant uploads. Corrupted files. The horror.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">truly terrifying...</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">It unironically is.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You pause, feeling the soft warmth of the conversation settling around you. Vincent has that weird, nerdy way of making even the most mundane stuff sound dramatic. And for some weird reason, it puts you at ease. Then he adds: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">But anyway. How was your day? I don't want to monologue at you the whole time.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You blink at that. It's such a Vincent thing to say. Sweet. Nervous. Kind of formal. But you can tell he's happy to hear from you. You can almost feel him sitting a little straighter wherever he is, smiling in that fidgety way he does when he doesn't quite know where to put his hands. <<button "I went shopping" "Day 18 - Text Vincent 1">>\<<set $d18vincentoption to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_text_vincent_convo" "shopping" "story">><</button>> <<button "I won't judge if you do monologue" "Day 18 - Text Vincent 1">>\<<set $d18vincentoption to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_text_vincent_convo" "monologue" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ You scroll through your contacts, not really sure what you're looking for. Luke feels like too much energy right now. Jordan would definitely be too intense. You hesitate on Vincent's name. You haven't exactly been kind to him in the past. Not cruel, but distant. A little sharp. Sometimes a little too sarcastic when he didn't deserve it. He's the kind of person who's easy to dismiss if you're not paying attention—quiet, bookish, and kind of awkward. You hover a second longer, then tap. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hey</div> </div>\ </div>\ The read receipt ticks by. And then a long pause. No typing bubble. Finally: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Hi. Is something wrong?</div> </div>\ </div>\ You wince a little at the tone. He's not aggressive, just... flat. Guarded. Careful. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">nah nothings wrong</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">just couldnt sleep</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">figured id check in</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">if thats not weird</div> </div>\ </div>\ Another pause. Longer this time. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">It's not weird. Just... unexpected.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You sit with that. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">yeah</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">sorry if its out of the blue</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">It kind of is, but it's okay.</div> </div>\ </div>\ There's nothing angry in his words. But there //is// a distance, clear as anything. You know Vincent. Even when he's rambling or nervous, there's always an openness to him. But not tonight. Not here. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">u dont have to talk if u dont want to</div> </div>\ </div>\ A beat. Then: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">I think I'm going to get back to what I was doing. But thank you for reaching out.</div> </div>\ </div>\ No coldness. Just a quiet, polite end. You stare at the message for a moment, thumb brushing the edge of the phone. You tried, but some things take time. And maybe you haven't earned that yet. <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - 10">><</button>> <</if>>\

The car hums steadily beneath you as the two of you pull out of the driveway, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the street. The windows are cracked //just// enough to let in a soft breeze, carrying the scent of grass and distant barbecue smoke. Your mom has the radio turned to a station with gentle guitar and lyrics about open roads and bittersweet memories. You sit in the passenger seat, fingers curled loosely in your lap. The air between you is... comfortable. Not tense, or awkward, but filled with a quiet kind of familiarity. It's not that anything was wrong between the two of you. But lately, you've been drifting past each other—brief exchanges, without the real conversations you used to have. She taps the steering wheel in rhythm with the music, glancing over at you every so often, like she's waiting to see if you'll speak first. She's relaxed, but there's also just the slightest coil of anticipation—like she's trying not to scare the moment away. The drive to the mall isn't long at all, but it is enough to talk. <<button "Ask about what she wore in high school" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 2">>\<<set $d18momquestion to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momquestion" "Ask about what she wore in high school" "story">><</button>> <<button "Talk about Samantha and Luke" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 2">>\<<set $d18momquestion to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momquestion" "Talk about Samantha and Luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask if she ever felt uncomfortable in her own skin" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 2">>\<<set $d18momquestion to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momquestion" "Ask if she ever felt uncomfortable in her own skin" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> <<set $money += 100>>\ <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<set $topUnlock to []>>\ <<set $pantsUnlock to []>>\ <<set $outfitUnlock to []>>\ <<set $shoeUnlock to []>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock to [false]>>\ \ <<if $hairtie is 1 or $currenthairtie is 1>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[1] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 2 or $currenthairtie is 2>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[2] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 3 or $currenthairtie is 3>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[3] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 4 or $currenthairtie is 4>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[4] to true>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $hairacessoriesUnlock to []>>\ You step out of the store and the cool mall air hits your skin like a reset button. For a moment, you just breathe—shoulders a little lighter and heart not racing quite as hard. The world feels... manageable. Not solved, but better. Your mom pulls out her phone, taps a few things, and seconds later your phone buzzes in your pocket. @@.girl;"There,"@@ she says, putting the phone back in her purse. @@.girl;"A hundred dollars. Use it for whatever. Clothes, accessories, even snacks—you've earned a little fun. And I'm not going anywhere, so I //can// give my opinion. If you want it, of course."@@ You glance around the mall and it feels like you could go ''anywhere''. @@.girl;"Whatever feels right, $name,"@@ she says gently. @@.girl;"Even if it's something completely out of your comfort zone. Sometimes that's where the magic is."@@ You take a breath and look at the options sprawled around you. ''NovaTrend'' is sleek and filled with plants, like a fashion blog brought to life. There are soft earth tones, cropped jackets, and baggy pants. Every display seems effortless yet curated. ''ShatterBox'' has dark walls, racks of fishnets, studded belts, combat boots, and merchandise from bands you don't even recognize. Mesh sleeves and eyeliner are practically required. ''Blink + Shine'' is so sparkly it's practically vibrating. Hair clips, lip gloss, and enamel pins shaped like raccoons are on display. ''Threadz'' is wall-to-wall graphic tees, oversized hoodies, and anime designs. It smells faintly like body spray and rebellion. ''StepUp Footwear'', a staple of the Crestview Bay mall, has so many shoes it nearly makes you dizzy. ''Cuddle Creations'' has so many adorable stuffed animals that the cuteness might just overwhelm you. Your mom nudges you lightly. @@.girl;"No wrong answers. Just go where your feet pull you."@@ <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ <<set $temp3 to false>>\ <<set $temp4 to false>>\ <<set $temp5 to false>>\ <<button "Head to NovaTrend" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom NovaTrend">><</button>> <<button "Head to ShatterBox" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom ShatterBox">><</button>> <<button "Head to Blink + Shine" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine">><</button>> <<button "Head to Threadz" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Threadz">><</button>> <<button "Head to StepUp Footwear" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom StepUp">><</button>> <<button "Head to Cuddle Creations" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations">><</button>> <<button "Head to the changing rooms" "Closet">><</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1">>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2">>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3">>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

<<if $money is 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "BrokeMall">>\ <</if>>\ <img src="img/bg/mall.png"> You've been to every store you cared to explore—arms a little sore from tote bags and plastic handles, but it's a good kind of weight. The kind that says you were able to find stuff you actually like. Things that feel like it belongs to who you are right now—not who you were or who you thought you had to be. You and your mom slow near the center of the mall, in that wide-open spot where all the escalators cross. For a second, you both just... stop. No rush. No errands left. Just you, her, and the quiet buzz of mall chatter in the background. She glances at the bags in your hand. @@.girl;"You picked a lot of really different stuff today,"@@ she says. Not judging. Just noticing. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. Then, after a beat: @@.player;"I think I wanted to see who I might feel like."@@ She hums at that, like she's rolling the words around in her head. Then she nods. @@.girl;"Well,"@@ she says, slinging her purse higher on her shoulder, @@.girl;"whoever you're feeling like today... looks pretty good to me."@@ Her words hit in a weird place. It's as if you've been holding your breath for too long, and just finally got to exhale. @@.player;"Well, thanks for coming with me,"@@ you say, cracking a small smile. @@.player;"I know this wasn't exactly your idea of a Thursday."@@ @@.girl;"Are you kidding, $name?"@@ she says, her eyes warm. @@.girl;"Getting to spend the afternoon with you, just the two of us? I don't get that as much anymore. It's been really nice."@@ You look over, and you can tell she's being sincere. @@.girl;"I missed this,"@@ she says, squeezing your hand with hers. @@.girl;"Just being with you. Watching you try things, figure yourself out a little. I'm proud of you, you know."@@ You glance away, cheeks warm, but you don't hate hearing it. Not even close. @@.girl;"C'mon,"@@ she says gently, nodding toward the familiar glow of the food court. @@.girl;"Let's grab something to eat. My treat. I think we've earned it."@@ You follow her, the bags in your hands swinging lightly with each step, and something settles in your chest. You feel... safe. <<button "Time to eat" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 12">><</button>>

The food court is buzzing with the usual chaos—laughter, trays clattering, the hum of soda machines, and the comforting scent of everything fried, grilled, or baked in bulk. You and your mom weave through the crowds, dodging strollers and shopping bags until you find a quiet corner table tucked near a big fake plant. She sets her purse down on one of the plastic chairs with a tired little sigh and eases into the seat, giving the bags at your feet a quick glance. @@.girl;"We did some damage,"@@ she murmurs, half-smiling. You sit across from her, stretching your arms out a little. @@.player;"Totally worth it, though."@@ She nods, then reaches into her wallet, pulls out a card, and places it gently on the table between you. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, trying to sound official. @@.girl;"Go get whatever you want. Seriously. Meal, drink, even dessert—I don't care. You earned it today."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Anything?"@@ She gives you a look. @@.girl;"Do I look like I'm joking? Go. I'll guard the bags."@@ You glance toward the ring of food stalls. There are more than a dozen places lit up in neon lights and grease-scented glory. A few kids race past yelling about honey mustard. Somewhere nearby, a blender screeches through a smoothie. Your mom leans back in her chair, looking genuinely content. @@.girl;"Just get something that's not going to give you a stomachache by the time we're back in the car."@@ @@.player;"No promises,"@@ you state, pushing up from the table. She just shakes her head and waves you off. @@.girl;"Go on."@@ Pizza Hüt is a proud European chain that acts like putting an umlaut in the name makes their pizza cultured. The pizza's fine, but the crust is oddly sweet and the pepperoni looks like it was printed on. It's the kind of spot you eat at and then wonder if maybe you were just really hungry. Loud branding, flat burgers, and enough sauce to coat your soul. That's Burgur Kween. The combo deals are suspiciously cheap, and everything comes wrapped in foil with marketing slogans like "SLAY THE CRAVE." It doesn't help the fact that their burgers look like they've been sat on, though. Kansas Fried Poultry is the home of greasy chicken and coleslaw no one ever finishes. It was founded by General Thatch, whose portrait still hangs in every location—white suit, bolo tie, and a thousand-yard stare. They swear by their "Legendary Eleven-Dust Blend™"—you're pretty sure most of the taste comes down to the MSG though. No one knows what's in the gravy, but you eat it anyway. General Thatch would want you to be brave. Tacko Bong is Tex-Mex, but barely. You order it because it smells good, then immediately question your decisions mid-bite. It's fast, cheap, and tastes decent going in. But let's be honest here—you know what happens next. There's a reason why every bathroom stall near a Tacko Bong is mysteriously out of order. Koala Express is an aggressively average Chinese fast-food chain that's somehow in every mall, airport, and food court, even though no one remembers it actually opening. The food is comforting in a suspiciously consistent way. The real mystery is the mascot: a grinning koala in a silk robe, holding chopsticks. No one knows why exactly an Australian marsupial is representing orange chicken, and the brand has never explained it. You're not here for the authenticity though—you're here because it smells good and hits the same way every time. <<button "Pizza Hüt" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 13">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Pizza Hüt" "story">><</button>> <<button "Burgur Kween" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 13">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Burgur Kween" "story">><</button>> <<button "KFP - Kansas Fried Poultry" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 13">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "KFP - Kansas Fried Poultry" "story">><</button>> <<button "Tacko Bong" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 13">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Tacko Bong" "story">><</button>> <<button "Koala Express" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 13">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Koala Express" "story">><</button>>

You sit across from your mom at the food court table, plastic tray wedged between your elbows, the mall air thick with the scent of fries and grease. Around you, people move in their usual lazy shopping patterns. The mall hums like a slow, predictable engine. Your mom takes a sip of her iced tea and nudges your ankle under the table with her foot, casual and quiet. @@.girl;"So,"@@ she says between bites, @@.girl;"does this place still make you feel like a kid, or are you officially a disillusioned adult now?"@@ @@.player;"I think I'm halfway,"@@ you state, smirking. @@.player;"I get nostalgic walking past the toy store, sure, but now the massage chairs look pretty nice as well."@@ She laughs softly. @@.player;"That's when it all begins. One day you're begging for candy, the next you're pricing memory foam."@@ Conversation drifts in and out—small things. Someone's weird desk pet at school. Whether or not that one lotion store still gives out samples. She tells a story about her friend from work who got tricked into joining a pyramid scheme. It's easy. Until she sets her fork down carefully. She looks at you. Her voice stays soft when she speaks. @@.girl;"Can I ask something kind of personal?"@@ You nod, cautiously. @@.girl;"When you tried on those... the clothes you picked earlier,"@@ she begins, tilting her head. @@.girl;"did you... //like// how you looked?"@@ She doesn't say "the girl clothes." She doesn't say "that stuff." She's trying. You can hear the care in her tone, the thought she put into her phrasing. There's no judgment in her eyes. Just real curiosity and genuine love. And she's waiting. <<button "Yeah, I actually felt really good" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 15">>\<<set $d18momacceptance to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momacceptance" "Yeah, I actually felt really good" "story">><</button>> <<button "It was fine" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 15">>\<<set $d18momacceptance to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momacceptance" "It was fine" "story">><</button>> <<button "Not really" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 15">>\<<set $d18momacceptance to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momacceptance" "Not really" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18momacceptance is 0>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You pause for a second, staring down at the tray. There's a tightness in your chest that wasn't there a moment ago—not fear exactly, but something like bracing for impact. And yet, despite all that, the words come easier than you expected. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, quieter than you meant to. @@.player;"I actually felt really good."@@ Your mom stops mid-sip, lowering her drink just slightly. She doesn't look surprised—just attentive, like she was ready to catch this moment if it happened. Her eyes soften immediately, but there's no smile yet. Not even a reaction. Just stillness. Space for you to keep talking if you want. You do. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you continue, shifting in your seat, @@.player;"when I looked in the mirror, it didn't feel like a costume. It didn't feel fake. I just felt... more like myself. Which is weird, I guess."@@ Your mom tilts her head slightly. @@.girl;"That's not weird at all."@@ You glance up, expecting caution or concern, but she's already nodding slowly. @@.girl;"$name, you looked comfortable,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Not just how it fit, but how you stood. How you carried yourself."@@ You blink, surprised by the detail. @@.player;"You noticed that?"@@ She finally smiles. @@.girl;"Of course I did. I know you. And you seemed... lighter."@@ You sit with that for a moment. Lighter. She's right, even if you haven't put that word to it yet. You remember how your reflection made you smile, how your body didn't feel like something you had to brace against. You just felt like you. Wearing something that felt right. @@.player;"Does that scare you?"@@ you ask, voice barely above a whisper. Your mom shakes her head, seeming completely sure. @@.girl;"No, honey. What //would// scare me is if you thought you had to hide from yourself just to make other people comfortable."@@ That sits heavy. You look back down, then up again. You don't say anything else, but she doesn't need you to. Her hand just rests on the table, palm up, open. You don't even think. You just place yours in it. She squeezes gently. That's enough. For now. <<elseif $d18momacceptance is 1>>\ You shrug as you take a bite. @@.player;"It was fine,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I dunno."@@ Your mom watches you for a moment—quiet, but not pressing. She chews slowly, then sets her cup down and rests her chin on her hand, elbow braced on the table. @@.girl;"Fine as in... it didn't bother you? Or fine like you didn't hate it but you're not sure what to do with it."@@ You pause. You're not sure which lands closer to the truth, and you're certainly not ready to unpack anything. Not right now. You just give another little shrug. She just nods, her gaze softening as she leans back in her seat. @@.girl;"Well,"@@ she says, folding her napkin slowly, @@.girl;"figuring things out doesn't always feel like lightning. Sometimes it's just... trying something on. Seeing how it fits."@@ You glance down again, unsure if she means the skirts and shirts or something bigger. Maybe both. She takes a breath like she's going to say something else—but doesn't. Instead, she pops more food into her mouth, letting the silence settle into something easy again. You don't say anything either. And that's okay. <<elseif $d18momacceptance is 2>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ The taste of everything suddenly feels muted. You glance down, then back up, trying not to shrink under the softness in her expression. @@.player;"Not really,"@@ you say, after a moment. @@.player;"It felt... off. Like I was pretending or something. Like I was trying on someone else's life."@@ Your mom nods slowly, her face unreadable for a second—then carefully, she lifts her drink and takes a small sip. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Thanks for telling me."@@ You expect more, but she doesn't go there. She doesn't try to convince you otherwise. Instead, she sets her drink down and looks at you calmly. @@.girl;"You've been through a lot lately,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Your body's changing in ways you didn't choose. And I know it probably feels like everyone's waiting for you to figure out what it all //means//, but you don't owe anyone a full answer. Not even me."@@ You nod, a little tension slipping from your shoulders. She adds, with a dry smile. @@.girl;"That being said, I did get some cute pictures of you shopping. So if you //do// ever decide you want to lean into it... you've got options."@@ @@.player;"Mom..."@@ you groan. @@.girl;"What? I'm not saying to post them. I'm just saying you looked good, even if it didn't feel right."@@ Somehow, her words makes it easier. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 16">><</button>>

You sit in the food court, half-finished meal cooling on its tray, and for once, your mom doesn't ask if you're going to eat the rest. Her iced tea is still cold, but she doesn't reach for it. Her hands are folded in front of her now. When she speaks again, her voice is low—not hushed, but careful. Careful in that way mothers are, where every word is placed with intention. @@.girl;"I'm going to ask you something even more personal than earlier, if that's alright,"@@ she says. You nod before you can fully think about it. She watches your face for a second, like she's checking to make sure she can really ask. Then: @@.girl;"$name, when you were younger,"@@ she begins, and already her voice softens even more, @@.girl;"did you ever wish you were a girl?"@@ She doesn't say it like she's trying to catch you. It doesn't come with an edge. It just lands softly between you, a question that's clearly been sitting with her—not in fear, but in love. The kind of question a parent doesn't ask unless they //really// want to know you. And suddenly, it's not about the food, or the mall, or even the clothes you tried on. It's about something older and deeper, something that may have sat inside you for a long time. Almost like a memory that never had a name. She doesn't rush you, she just waits. <<button "Yes" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 17">>\<<set $d18momtrans to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momtrans" "Yes" "story">><</button>> <<button "No" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 17">>\<<set $d18momtrans to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momtrans" "No" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18momtrans is true>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate—but only for a breath. The moment is too fragile for denial, and honestly... you're tired of dodging pieces of yourself like they're landmines. So you say it. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur, voice low but steady. @@.player;"Sometimes."@@ Her fingers twitch against the edge of her napkin, like she's rewinding through years in her head all at once—rewatching childhood birthday parties, Halloween costumes, grocery store tantrums, and quiet silences in dressing rooms. Her eyes don't leave yours, but you can //see// her going back. Connecting threads she never even thought to tie together. She doesn't cry. Not at first. But her voice cracks when she speaks again. @@.girl;"Why didn't I see that?"@@ @@.player;"It's not your fault,"@@ you state, shaking your head. @@.girl;"I know, I just..."@@ She lets out a slow breath, blinking hard. @@.girl;"I think about all the times you seemed uncomfortable and I just chalked it up to being shy, or stubborn, or hitting a weird phase. I thought it would pass, I really did. I didn't think to ask if maybe you felt... //different//."@@ You're not sure how to even respond. You never said it out loud before—not to her, not to anyone. But now that the words are in the air, they don't feel like a bomb. They feel like a truth that's been waiting for daylight. She covers her mouth for a second, breath catching, then lowers her hand. @@.girl;"I remember you wanted to be a witch one Halloween,"@@ she says softly, voice trembling. @@.girl;"And I kept steering you toward the wizard costumes. I thought I was being helpful. I thought... I was being practical."@@ You look at her. Really look. Her eyes are wet, but her expression is open—aching, but full of love. @@.girl;"I would've let you,"@@ she says, barely above a whisper. @@.girl;"If I'd known. I would've... I would've made you the best little witch cape in the world."@@ That does it. Your throat tightens, but the tears don't fall. Not yet, anyway. There's just this strange warmth beneath your ribs, soft and sharp all at once. You don't need to reassure her. Not right now. She's not beating herself up, she's simply grieving what she missed. She reaches across the table again and takes your hand, gently, like she's holding something precious. And maybe she is. @@.girl;"I am so, so proud of you,"@@ she says, @@.girl;"for saying it. For knowing it. For even //wondering// about it. You don't have to have answers, $name. Just please keep being honest with yourself."@@ You nod, your fingers squeezing hers in return. For a long moment, neither of you say anything. The mall buzzes on around you. Unimportant. Distant. But here, at this tiny food court table, something real has been named. And you are not alone. <<else>>\ You pause, let the question hang in the air, and then quietly shake your head. @@.player;"No,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Not really. I never... wanted to be a girl when I was younger."@@ Your mom doesn't flinch. Doesn't look relieved or disappointed—just thoughtful. Like she was holding space for either answer, and is still holding it, even now. She nods slowly, more to herself than to you. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says softly. @@.girl;"Thanks for being honest."@@ She leans back in her chair, folding the edge of her napkin between her fingers. Her gaze lingers in the distance, like she's sorting through her thoughts carefully before saying any of them out loud. @@.girl;"I only asked because... I don't know. Watching you lately, I just started wondering if maybe there was something I'd missed. Something you were trying to say, even if you didn't know how."@@ You glance down at your tray, not sure what to say to that. @@.girl;"I know things are changing,"@@ she adds, gentler still. @@.girl;"Your body, your style, how you see yourself. And I don't want to make any assumptions, $name. I just want to make sure I'm not shutting out possibilities because I didn't see something early on."@@ You nod. You don't feel misunderstood. If anything, you feel seen—as someone still figuring things out, even if the answer to this particular question is clear. @@.player;"I didn't wish I was a girl,"@@ you say again, firmer this time. @@.player;"But I get why you might have wondered."@@ Her eyes meet yours, full of steady warmth. @@.girl;"I'm not trying to put a label on you. I'm just trying to stay close. However this goes."@@ That's what hits. Not the question. Not the moment. Just the willingness to be there, even if the road looks different than either of you expected. She smiles. @@.girl;"Thanks for answering."@@ You smile back. @@.player;"Thanks for asking."@@ And for now, that's enough. <</if>>\ <<button "It's time for the drive home" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 18">><</button>>

The sky outside has shifted to that soft, golden hour glow—warm and hazy, stretched long across the tops of parked cars and the mall's wide glass facade. It's quieter now, the rush of shoppers fading into a kind of calm. You and your mom walk side by side toward the car, your arms full of bags, your steps unhurried. When she opens the trunk, you both fall into an easy rhythm—bags handed off, tucked neatly into corners, heavier things layered at the bottom, soft ones cradled on top. She's careful with everything, like she's not just packing up clothes and receipts. After a few minutes, the last bag slides into place with a soft rustle. She closes the trunk gently, like she doesn't want to wake a sleeping thing. There's a brief pause. A breath of quiet between tasks. Then she gives you a small smile and nods toward the passenger door. @@.girl;"Come on,"@@ she says. You both get in—the doors thud shut, and the outside world muffles. The car is warm, filled with the quiet scent of leather and something floral from one of the bags. For a moment, you sit there, letting the stillness settle. Then she turns to you, keys still in her hand, her voice low. @@.girl;"Thank you,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"For coming with me today."@@ You open your mouth to say something, but she keeps going. @@.girl;"Not just for shopping,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"For letting me be there. For letting me see you—really see you. I know it's not always easy to let someone in when you're changing, when you're figuring yourself out. But you let me come along for the ride."@@ She brushes something off your sleeve that probably wasn't even there, and her hand lingers for just a second before falling back to her side. @@.girl;"$name, I ''need'' you to know this,"@@ she continues, steady now. @@.girl;"Whatever happens—whatever you decide, whatever you feel, whoever you are—I am on your side. Always. That doesn't change. Through thick and thin, through confusion and clarity, through bad hair days and identity crises and whatever else life throws at you."@@ You look at her, and there's something in your chest that aches—but in a good way. For a moment, neither of you speak. The car's quiet, warm with the fading sun, and the hum of the mall in the distance slowly fades. @@.girl;"I'm your mom,"@@ she states. She lets it sit there for a second. Not as a performance—just as fact. @@.girl;"That's not something I say lightly,"@@ she continues. @@.girl;"It's not about biology or birthdays or signing permission slips. It's... showing up. Seeing you. Staying when things get confusing, even when neither of us has the words."@@ She breathes in slowly through her nose, looking ahead through the windshield for a moment before her gaze returns to you. @@.girl;"I've watched you change. I've seen you struggle, and stumble, and try to hold yourself together when it didn't make sense. And none of it—//none// of it—made me love you any less. Not for a second."@@ Her hands rest near the gearshift, not reaching for yours, not asking for a moment—just there, a quiet offer. @@.girl;"I don't know everything. I probably won't always get it right. But I'm not going anywhere. You hear me? I'm right here, $name. You are ''not'' alone in this."@@ You can tell she means it. @@.girl;"I'm your mother. That means something. And it always will."@@ And there's nothing else to add. <<button "To home with Mom" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 19">><</button>>

<<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ The drive home is quiet in that easy, end-of-the-day kind of way. The sun's dipping lower now, painting the sky in soft golds and dusty pinks, and your mom hums along to the radio. It's some song from her high school days, too low to recognize but familiar enough to soothe the silence. She looks tired. Not drained, just comfortably worn out, like something who gave the day all she had and is glad for it. She has one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally brushing her hair back, eyes soft when they flick to you at stoplights. When you finally pull into the driveway, she parks and lets out a small sigh, stretching her arms over the steering wheel. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, glancing over at you. @@.girl;"I think I've officially hit my mall limit for the year."@@ You chuckle and unbuckle, bags rustling softly as you both collect your things. Inside the house, it's calm, dim, and familiar. You set your bag down by the stairs, for a second, letting your arms rest when your mom pauses beside you. She doesn't say much, but she doesn't //have// to. She just reaches out and pulls you into a hug, warm and quiet, no big moment made of it. @@.girl;"I love you,"@@ she says simply, her voice low and steady against your shoulder. You nod, arms tightening just a little around her. @@.player;"Love you too."@@ She pulls back, gives you one last gentle look, and then disappears down the hallway without another word. You gather your bags—soft plastic, warm fabric, a quiet bundle of choices—and carry them upstairs. Your room is dim, still waiting. You wrap your fingers around the doorknob and breathe in. Then push it open. <<button "Back home" "Day 18 - 7">><</button>>

<<if $d18momquestion is 0>>\ You glance out the window, watching as houses blur by—lawns freshly mowed, Halloween decorations starting to creep out early, someone's sprinklers misting the sidewalk. You shift in your seat, glance over at her, and try your best to sound casual. @@.player;"So... what did //you// wear in high school?"@@ Your mom lets out a small laugh, eyes still on the road. @@.girl;"Oh wow. That's the question you're going with?"@@ You grin. @@.player;"What? I'm just trying to set the bar low before we start trying things on. I figured that if you tell me something horrifying, I'll feel better about whatever I end up in."@@ She huffs a laugh through her nose, amused, and taps the steering wheel as she thinks. @@.girl;"Alright. Picture this—late nineties. Butterfly clips, glitter everything, and super wide bootcut jeans. There were these tiny little tank tops with slogans written in rhinestones too."@@ You blink. @@.player;"I don't think I can picture that. I'm physically rejecting the image."@@ @@.girl;"Oh, and don't forget platform flip-flops,"@@ she adds with a grin. @@.girl;"The less practical the shoe, the more fashionable it was."@@ You laugh, picturing her as a teenager wobbling through school with sparkly lettering on her chest and a denim jacket two sizes too small. @@.girl;"I had this one jacket I absolutely loved,"@@ she says, her voice warming. @@.girl;"Corduroy, cropped, and bright red. It made me feel like I was in charge of something, even when I wasn't."@@ There's a beat of quiet as the car turns onto the main road, the mall just a few lights away now. @@.girl;"Fashion was weird back then, but it was fun,"@@ she continues. @@.girl;"It made you feel like you could decide who you were. Or at least pretend to be someone bolder for a day."@@ You nod, the words landing far deeper than she probably meant for them to. @@.girl;"Why?"@@ she asks after a moment, glancing at you. @@.girl;"Thinking about rocking some glitter tank tops today?"@@ You snort. @@.player;"Only if they come with platform flip-flops. Gotta commit to the look."@@ She laughs, and the sound is soft and easy, carried on the breeze drifting in through the window. Outside, the parking lot of the mall comes into view. Your mom pulls into a space near the front and puts the car in park. @@.girl;"You nervous?"@@ she asks. You pause, then nod once. @@.player;"A little."@@ She smiles gently. @@.girl;"Me too. But we'll figure it out."@@ And with that, she unbuckles her seatbelt, and the two of you step out. <<elseif $d18momquestion is 1>>\ You glance out the window as the town's familiar streets glide past. The breeze through the cracked window lifts your hair a little. You shift slightly, resting your elbows on the armrest. @@.player;"Samantha and Luke were giving me crap at lunch today."@@ @@.girl;"Well, that sounds about right,"@@ she says, letting out a short laugh. @@.girl;"What was today's theme? Emotional sabotage or casual mockery?"@@ @@.player;"A little bit of both,"@@ you say. @@.player;"They found out I haven't exactly been... rotating my wardrobe."@@ She raises an eyebrow in amusement. @@.girl;"You mean how you wear that white shirt and those cargo shorts like it's your superhero costume?"@@ @@.player;"Not you too,"@@ you whine. @@.girl;"Hey, I've earned the right,"@@ she says back, grinning. @@.player;"Samantha offered to take me to the mall,"@@ you add. @@.player;"Like, to find me something new. Luke wanted to come too but he's got football practice."@@ Your mom glances over, eyes warm. @@.girl;"That's sweet of them. They've always looked out for you in their own... intense ways."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, they //are// kind of relentless,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"It's kind of nice, though. Even when Samantha's being brutal about my clothes."@@ @@.girl;"She's always been like that,"@@ your mom says fondly. @@.girl;"Remember when you were eight and she told you your rain boots made you look like a lost farmer?"@@ You laugh despite yourself. @@.player;"She //still// brings that up sometimes, you know."@@ Your mom smiles wider, her voice dipping into that nostalgic tone she uses when talking about the past. @@.girl;"And Luke? That boy's been glued to your side since preschool. I remember he used to follow you around the playground like you were giving him secret missions."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, now he just brings canned ham to school and calls it a personality."@@ Your mom blinks. @@.girl;"What?"@@ @@.player;"Don't ask."@@ @@.girl;"You're lucky,"@@ she says after a moment. @@.girl;"Having people who know you that well and stick around is rare."@@ You nod. You think of Luke's loud laugh and Samantha's withering stares, the way they never let you drift too far. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"I know."@@ The car turns onto the road leading toward the mall, and your mom slows into a parking space near the entrance. @@.girl;"They'd be proud of you for doing this,"@@ she adds, voice steady. @@.girl;"Even if they might not say it out loud."@@ You offer a smile. @@.player;"Samantha would probably just say 'finally.'"@@ @@.girl;"Which, in her language, //is// a proud moment."@@ She's not wrong. You unbuckle your seatbelt, and look ahead—the mall entrance stands ahead, doors wide, the afternoon sun golden behind you. You head inside with your mom, with more to figure out and more still ahead. But for now, you're not alone. <<elseif $d18momquestion is 2>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ The wind rolls gently through the open car window as your mom drives. The road ahead is quiet and familiar—rows of chain stores and gas stations slowly giving way to the mall. You sit with your hands in your lap, fingers tapping idly against your thigh. You stare at your reflection faintly caught in the window—the curve of your face, the softness that wasn't there a month ago, the way your shirt doesn't quite fall the way it used to. You take a deep breath. @@.player;"Hey, Mom?"@@ She glances over. @@.girl;"Yeah?"@@ You hesitate a beat. @@.player;"Did you ever... feel weird in your own body? Like you were supposed to feel one way about yourself, but... it didn't quite line up?"@@ She doesn't answer right away. Her hands stay steady on the wheel and her eyes fixed on the road. But you see the subtle shift in her expression—she heard you. Eventually, she exhales. @@.girl;"Yeah. I think I did. Not in the same way, maybe, but... yeah. When I was your age, I think I spent a lot of time pretending I felt more confident in myself than I actually did. And sometimes, pretending turned into a habit. I'd look in the mirror and think, 'I'm supposed to like this,' but deep down, I didn't. I didn't feel like me. Not really."@@ You nod slowly, your throat a little tight. @@.girl;"It's confusing,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"It's like there's this version of you that exists just beyond your reach, and you're trying to catch up to it, piece by piece."@@ You turn back toward the window, swallowing. @@.player;"I've just been feeling... off. I don't know. I keep telling myself I'm still the same guy I've always been, but then I'll catch my reflection or notice something new, and it's like—"@@ You pause, trying to find the right words. @@.player;"Like I'm seeing someone else. Someone who's not //wrong//, just... not who I thought I was supposed to be."@@ Your mom listens. @@.player;"It's so weird,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Because it doesn't scare me, not exactly. Some of the changes actually feel... right. I don't know what that means or what I'm supposed to //do// with it."@@ The words hang there for a moment, heavier than you expected. @@.player;"I've been trying to ignore it and push it down. Tell myself that it's a phase or that my brain's making it up. But it's not going away."@@ Your mom nods slowly, her grip on the wheel steady. @@.girl;"You know, when something in you starts shifting like that, it's usually for a reason,"@@ she says gently. @@.girl;"Most people don't spend this much time thinking about who they are unless there's something real underneath it all. That doesn't mean you have to figure it all out tonight. It just means that you owe it to yourself to stop pretending."@@ You nod, jaw tight. @@.player;"I just... I don't think I want to be who I thought I was anymore,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But I don't know who else to be."@@ She's silent for a few seconds, then exhales slowly. @@.girl;"Then let's find out. No pressure. No timeline. Just... try things. Try clothes. Try language. Try seeing what makes you feel like you. And if that changes? Well, that's okay too."@@ You nod again. Outside the window, the mall comes into view. Your mom pulls into a spot and turns off the engine, the car going still. @@.girl;"Look, $name, this doesn't have to be a big reveal,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"It's just shopping. But if some part of you feels more like you by the time we leave... then that's something."@@ You take a few deep breaths before finally opening the door and stepping out beside her. Maybe this isn't about changing. Maybe it's about finally listening. <<else>>\ The road hums beneath the tire and the sun casts long lines across the dashboard as your mom turns down the familiar stretch that leads toward the mall. You pick at a loose thread on your top for a second before glancing over. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, voice a little hesitant. Your mom glances at you. @@.girl;"Yeah?"@@ You take a breath. @@.player;"Did you ever feel... I don't know. Like you didn't fit in your own skin? Like something about you just felt off, even if nothing was technically wrong?"@@ She's quiet for a beat—enough for you to start regretting asking. @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Yeah, I did."@@ @@.player;"Really?"@@ you ask, blinking. She nods. @@.girl;"When I was your age, I think I spent half my time pretending I was more comfortable than I actually was. Even if I wore the right clothes, said the right things, and hung out with the people who //seemed// right, there was always this weird distance between how I acted and how I felt."@@ You look out the window, letting her words settle. @@.girl;"I didn't know how to explain it,"@@ she continues. @@.girl;"And I didn't know if I was just awkward, or weird, or trying too hard to be someone I wasn't. Sometimes it felt like everyone else had gotten a copy of the manual for how to be a normal person, and I didn't."@@ You huff a laugh at that. @@.girl;"But I grew into myself,"@@ she says, glancing over at you. @@.girl;"Eventually. With help and time. You kind of collect pieces of yourself along the way, you know? You don't have to have all the answers now."@@ You nod before the car falls into a comfortable silence again. She gives you a softer smile, one of those rare ones that she doesn't flash for anyone. @@.girl;"You don't have to explain what you're feeling if you're not ready, $name,"@@ she adds. @@.girl;"But you can if you want."@@ You don't say anything right away. Not because you don't want to, but because you're still figuring it out—still sorting through that strange disconnect between the way things are and the way they feel. But knowing she gets it helps. The mall comes into view ahead and your mom pulls into a spot near the front. She puts the car in park and then looks over again, quieter this time. @@.girl;"We'll just take it slow. Find something that feels good on you. That's all."@@ You nod, unbuckling your seatbelt. @@.player;"Got it."@@ You're not fully sure of what you're looking for, but more ready than you were before. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Shopping begin!" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 3">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> The doors of the mall slide open with a soft //whoosh//, and the air-conditioning hits you like a wall. Inside, everything is shiny and polished. You walk beside your mom, and it's surprisingly not super crowded. Just enough people to make the space feel alive, not overwhelming. Your mom glances at a directory kiosk, then turns to you. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, keeping her tone breezy but careful. @@.girl;"I think we should start with something basic. Foundational."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"What does that mean?"@@ She gives you a gentle but honest look. @@.girl;"We should probably get you a bra first."@@ The words land softly but clearly. You feel your chest tighten just a little—not from panic, but from awareness. <<if $acceptance > 19>>\ You pause for only a second. It's not a surprise. If anything, it was kind of inevitable. @@.player;"Yeah, that makes sense."@@ Your mom offers a small smile, like she knows exactly how much effort that answer took. @@.girl;"It doesn't have to be fancy,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Just something that fits. Something that makes you feel comfortable. That's all we're looking for, $name."@@ <<else>>\ You stop walking. @@.player;"A bra?"@@ you ask, half laughing. @@.player;"Is that really necessary?"@@ Your mom raises an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth pulled. @@.girl;"I mean... I think your comfort's trying to tell you something."@@ You fold your arms across your chest instinctively, shifting your weight. @@.player;"I just—I don't know. It feels... weird. I'm not trying to //be// anything, Mom. I just—"@@ She cuts in gently. @@.girl;"This isn't about being anything. It's about being comfortable. That's all. You don't have to label it."@@ You stare at the tile floor for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek. The resistance is still there, but it's not as sharp as it used to be. Just worn down. @@.player;"...Fine,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"But it's just one. Nothing lacy."@@ Your mom smiles. @@.girl;"Deal."@@ <</if>>\ As you and your mom near the store, the bright pink sign comes into view. There are sleek mannequins posed in window displays, lace and soft cotton, and the faint smell of perfume. You slow your steps just slightly, feet dragging in that unconscious way your body does when your brain's bracing for something unfamiliar. Your mom notices. She glances at you, then slows too. @@.girl;"Hey,"@@ she says quietly. @@.girl;"Before we go in, how do you want me to introduce you? The staff might offer help or ask what you're looking for."@@ You look up at her. @@.girl;"Do you want me to say you're a girl shopping for a bra? Or tell them you're a guy who needs one?"@@ The moment hangs there between you, suspended in the soft mall lighting. Your pulse quickens and your mouth feels dry, because either choice means being seen in a way you haven't been before. <<button "Say you're a girl" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 4">>\<<set $d18mombrastore to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_mombrastore" "Say you're a girl" "story">><</button>> <<button "Say you're a guy" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 4">>\<<set $d18mombrastore to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_mombrastore" "Say you're a guy" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18mombrastore is true>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You hesitate for only a second, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, heart thudding with a nervous rhythm that feels... weirdly good. The store is just ahead and it should feel terrifying. A month ago, maybe even a week ago, it would've been. But now? Now your skin's buzzing with anticipation. @@.player;"I mean..."@@ you shrug, feigning disinterest. Your smile is creeping in anyway, tugging at the corners of your mouth before you can stop it. @@.player;"Just say I'm a girl. Easier that way."@@ You glance at your mom—just briefly—and catch her watching you with the tiniest spark in her eyes. She knows. She sees the flush creeping up your neck and the way you twiddle your fingers. She doesn't say anything, opting to just give you a smile. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Let's get you fitted then."@@ You swallow the grin threatening to spill over and nod like it's nothing. Your fingers twitch at your sides as you follow her, stepping into the softly lit store that feels less like enemy territory and more like something else. Your cheeks are warm. Your heart is loud. But you don't look back. <<else>>\ You shift your weight, eyes fixed on the floor just past your mom's shoes. Your throat feels tight, like there's something stuck halfway up it. Words, maybe, or pressure. You don't want to be here. Not really. Not in this store. Not in this body that keeps changing no matter how hard you try to pretend it's not. The bra part? Fine. You'll deal with it. But the idea of saying you're a guy who needs one—of hearing someone else respond to that—makes your stomach twist. You let out a breath, eyes still down. @@.player;"...Just say I'm a girl,"@@ you mutter. Your mom doesn't react right away, but it's clear she's not buying it. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says finally. @@.girl;"If that's what you want."@@ You nod, but the motion feels hollow. You don't //want// it, exactly. It's just easier. Something to put between you and the awkward stares or the confused looks or the polite questions with too much kindness behind them. You're not here to make a statement. @@.player;"Let's just get in and out,"@@ you add. Your mom gives a soft hum of understanding, and the two of you move forward again, stepping toward the open glass doors and the soft hum of pop music playing just inside. You don't look up as you cross the threshold, pretending this is just another store. Another task. But it's not. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18mombrastore is false>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You stand outside of the store, the soft glow of its display lights casting across the tile. Your mom's voice still seems to linger in the air. The question she asked sinks into your chest. You glance down at your hands, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve, then up at the storefront again. Lace and cotton and soft colors. Everything you're not //supposed// to want. But you do. Or at least... you think you do. You've stopped pretending the changes don't matter. The way your reflection sometimes feels like it's catching up to something you've never said out loud. You bite the inside of your cheek, then look at your mom. @@.player;"Tell them the truth, I guess,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm a guy. A guy who just... happens to need a bra."@@ She doesn't blink, flinch or question. @@.girl;"Got it,"@@ she says, nodding. You stand a little straighter. It still feels scary—walking into a space not really built for you. But it also feels honest. You're taking a step toward something that's been waiting for you. The two of you cross the threshold together, the soft scent of perfume filling your nose. This is it. <<else>>\ You stare at the floor tiles past your feet, your shoulders tensing under your top. The question lingers in the air like a held breath. You feel the heat rise in your neck, not from embarrassment, exactly, but from something murkier—resentment, maybe. The way your body's been shifting lately hasn't been subtle, and ignoring it stopped working a while ago. But saying it out loud still feels like rubbing salt on the wound. You take a breath through your nose and let it out slowly. @@.player;"Just tell them the truth,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"I'm a guy."@@ Your mom nods. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"That's what I'll do."@@ You appreciate that she doesn't make it into a moment. No hand on your shoulder or reaffirming words, just a quiet respect. That's exactly what you need right now. The two of you approach the storefront together. You swallow, straighten your back, and step through the entrance. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 5">><</button>>

The air immediately shifts as you step into the store. It's tinged with floral perfume and faint traces of vanilla. The lighting is warm, almost cozy, and everything about the space feels deliberately gentle—like even the design is trying to put you at ease. Lacy displays line the front, pastel bras folded and hung in precise rows. A few mannequins stand off to the side wearing matching sets like they know exactly what they're doing here. You shift a little closer to your mom, who places a reassuring hand between your shoulder blades, steering you further in with a calmness that helps more than you'd admit. A store associate—probably late twenties, with sleek hair in a low bun and a name tag that says Riley—spots you from behind the counter and walks over with a practiced smile. @@.girl;"Hi there,"@@ she says, her tone friendly and professional. @@.girl;"Can I help you find anything today?"@@ <<if $d18mombrastore is true>>\ Your mom steps forward just slightly, keeping her voice light. @@.girl;"Yeah, actually. This is my daughter and she hasn't had a proper fitting yet. I figured it was time, I don't know how we hadn't already gotten around to it."@@ You feel your stomach tighten for a second, but Riley just nods with a smile that doesn't flicker. @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ she says, like it's the most normal thing in the world. @@.girl;"We can absolutely help with that."@@ <<elseif $d18mombrastore is false>>\ Your mom steps forward, her voice steady and casual. @@.girl;"This is my son and he's looking to get fitted for a bra. First time, and... well, we figured it was time to stop guessing."@@ For a half-second, something tightens in your chest. You brace for a reaction, some kind of flicker in Riley's expression—a double take, confusion, anything. But she doesn't even blink. @@.girl;"Got it,"@@ she says smoothly, her smile just as warm and unfazed. @@.girl;"We can definitely help with that."@@ No weird looks. No awkward pause. Just acceptance, like this is exactly as normal as it should be. You let out a sigh of relief. <</if>>\ She gestures toward a hallway in the back, where the fitting rooms are. @@.girl;"If you'd like, we can do a fitting back here,"@@ Riley says. @@.girl;"It's simple—just measurements, no pressure to buy anything if you're not ready. We'll find something comfortable and supportive. You can follow me when you're ready."@@ You glance at the hallway, then at Riley, then at your mom. <<button "Ask your mom to come with you" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 6">>\<<set $d18mombrastoretogether to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_mombrastoretogether" "Ask your mom to come with you" "story">><</button>> <<button "Tell your mom you'll go in by yourself" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 6">>\<<set $d18mombrastoretogether to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_mombrastoretogether" "Tell your mom you'll go in by yourself" "story">><</button>>

<<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $topoff to true>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<if $d18mombrastoretogether is true>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You look ahead at the softly lit hallway leading to the fitting rooms, your heart picking up pace again. The idea of walking back there alone, of stripping layers in front of a stranger, makes your chest feel tight in a way that has nothing to do with clothes. You turn to your mom, voice quiet. @@.player;"Can you.. come with me?"@@ Her eyes soften instantly, and she nods without hesitation. @@.girl;"Of course."@@ You follow Riley through the hallway, past racks of soft bralettes and lounge sets. She stops in front of a small room with a plush bench, mirror, and a tiny hook on the wall. @@.girl;"I'll step out and grab a measuring tape,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Just take your time getting ready."@@ She closes the door behind her with a soft click, and you and your mom are left in the small, warmly lit space. She gives you room—just enough—but she's there. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You tug your top off slowly, already dreading the part where you'll have to explain. The binder is snug against your skin, a gift from Coach Blake. It compresses well enough, but you've had it for a while now, and your ribs have definitely noticed. Your mom watches you carefully. She doesn't comment at first, which you're grateful for. After a moment, she says softly, @@.girl;"Is that... comfortable?"@@ You don't look at her as you shrug. @@.player;"Not really, but it does work."@@ She nods, not pushing. @@.girl;"While I am proud of you for being honest, let's find something that doesn't hurt. Something that supports you, not just flattens."@@ You keep your eyes on the mirror, jaw tight. The binder has been armor for so long, you almost forgot it wasn't supposed to hurt. <<else>>\ You take a deep breath and pull off your top, revealing the folded towel you've wrapped around your chest—looped and knotted under your shirt like the improvised, desperate solution it is. It's tight. Too tight. Your ribs ache from it. You didn't want to wear it, but your other options didn't feel safe either. Your mom's expression flickers—just for a second—but she hides it quickly behind calm concern. She steps a little closer, voice low. @@.girl;"Sweetheart... how long have you been doing that?"@@ You grimace, adjusting the knot. @@.player;"For a while now. I didn't want anyone to notice."@@ Her hand hovers, then gently rests on your shoulder. @@.girl;"Okay. First, we are ''not'' doing this anymore. You don't have to. We'll find something that fits. Something real. And you don't ever have to hurt yourself just to feel safe, okay?"@@ You nod. She doesn't press. A pressure in your chest lifts, figuratively and literally. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ You pull off your top and glance at the mirror. For a second, you almost expect to see something different something more—but your chest is still flat. Completely. No curves, no weight, nothing to hide or support. Your mom peeks over and gives a small, thoughtful nod. @@.girl;"Still flat, huh?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Yeah. Nothing's really changed there."@@ @@.girl;"That's okay,"@@ your mom says, smiling gently. @@.girl;"Still good to have something."@@ You nod. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ You peel off your top, tugging it over your head, and adjust the hem of your plain sports bra underneath. It's one you got as a gift, and it doesn't //really// flatten or support much. Your mom glances over and gives a soft, approving nod. @@.girl;"That's not a bad one. Has it been comfortable?"@@ You shrug, adjusting the strap on your shoulder. @@.player;"Mostly."@@ She smiles. @@.girl;"Well, we'll find something better. Something that doesn't just squish everything down."@@ <<else>>\ You slowly pull your top over your head, heart beating faster than it should as you feel your skin meet the air. No binder. No bra. Just you, completely exposed in front of your mom. Your chest has changed. You've known that for a while now. The shape, the weight, the way shirts fit lately—it's been slowly becoming something you can't ignore. Your mom watches you with that same gentleness. @@.girl;"Thanks for letting me come in with you,"@@ she says quietly, like she knows you're fighting through a wave of complicated feelings. You nod once, arms automatically crossing over your chest. @@.player;"I just... didn't want to explain anything to a stranger."@@ @@.girl;"You don't have to,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"We're just here to find what feels right."@@ You slowly uncross your arms. You're not ready, but you are trying. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ There's a gentle knock at the fitting room door. @@.girl;"Hey, it's Riley,"@@ comes her calm voice. @@.girl;"Ready for me to come in for the fitting?"@@ You swallow, barely managing a quiet, @@.player;"Yeah."@@ Riley steps into the fitting room with practiced ease, a measuring tape in her hands. She glances at both you and your mom, then gestures lightly. @@.girl;"We'll just do a quick measurement. No pressure to commit to anything—this is just to get a baseline so we can find what feels right, okay?"@@ You nod, heart fluttering slightly, even if you try not to show it. Your mom steps back to give you two space, and Riley gently motions for your arms to lift a little. @@.girl;"Arms relaxed. Just let me guide the tape—should only take a few seconds."@@ You breathe in quietly, and she gets to work. <<if $breastsProg is 3>>\ The moment the tape wraps around the fullest part of your chest, you feel your face flush. You know you've changed—your shirt's been fitting differently for ages—but having someone measure it makes it feel official. Like proof. Riley doesn't react at all, simply checking the tape, adjusting the band level beneath your chest, and recording the numbers like it's no different than measuring your shoe size. She steps back with a small smile. @@.girl;"You're measuring at a 36B."@@ You blink. You hadn't expected them to be that... solid. @@.girl;"That puts you in the medium-support range,"@@ she explains. @@.girl;"You've got enough natural shape that you'll probably feel best in lightly structured cups. We can do soft underwire, or go wireless with shaping seams. I'll grab a few styles with a smooth finish. Trust me, you'll ''definitely'' notice the difference in comfort."@@ @@.player;"Yeah. Let's try,"@@ you say. Riley nods and excuses herself to grab a few starter styles, leaving you and your mom in the soft quiet of the fitting room. <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ The measuring tape brushes across your chest and it's... undeniable now. There's something there. Not huge or obvious, but it's real. The soft curve of your chest presses just enough into the tape that you feel the shift in numbers as Riley gently notes them. She doesn't blink. Doesn't hesitate. Her movements are calm and routine. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says after a few seconds. @@.girl;"You're measuring at a 34A."@@ Your heart skips a beat. You expected the A, maybe, but didn't expect to hear it said out loud like that. @@.girl;"That means you've got a light cup size, but enough to benefit from a bit of support,"@@ she continues, unfazed. @@.girl;"We'll start with soft cup bras—ones that offer lift and shape without any stiffness. There's no bulk or weird padding, just something to make you feel secure."@@ Your mom nods thoughtfully beside you. @@.girl;"That sounds perfect."@@ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ <<else>>\ Riley places the tape snugly under your chest first, reading the band size with a quick flick of her eyes. Then she shifts it higher, across where the breast tissue //would// be, but there's nothing there. She finishes the measurement without hesitation, jotting something down on the corner of her notepad. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says with a smile, standing straight. @@.girl;"You're measuring at a 32AA. That means you're in the ultra-light support category. Nothing with underwire unless you want it—some soft bralettes or compression-friendly options will probably feel best."@@ You nod slowly. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You glance toward the softly lit hallway leading to the fitting rooms. Going there alone and having your chest measured by a stranger is nerve-wracking, sure, but not impossible. @@.player;"I've got this,"@@ you murmur. She hesitates, then nods. @@.girl;"Alright. I'll be right here if you need me."@@ You give her a quick, almost sheepish smile, then follow the hallway alone. The fitting rooms are warm and softly lit, with pale pink walls and a plush bench. As you step inside and close the door behind you, the quiet settles in. Now it's just you and the mirror. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You pull your top off slowly, already feeling the pressure from the tight, black binder beneath it. It clings to your chest, compressing everything into place like armor. It's familiar, and you've been relying on it for a while now. It works for the most part. But standing under this soft lighting, in this space that's supposed to be about fit and comfort, the way the binder presses into your ribs, suddenly feeling too sharp. Too restrictive. You twist side to side, stretching a little, wincing as the fabric digs in. You catch your reflection in the mirror. The binder gives you shape, or rather, takes shape away. But it also takes ease with it. You don't hate it, but you're not sure if you want to keep wearing something that hurts to feel okay. <<else>>\ You tug your hoodie over your head slowly, wincing as the rough knot of fabric digs into your ribs. The towel you've wrapped around your chest is tight—too tight—but it's the only thing you have. As you undo the makeshift binding, the pressure lifts suddenly, leaving behind a dull ache and a faint red mark. You look at yourself in the mirror and feel both exposed and strangely relieved. The towel was always a temporary solution. You knew that. It was never meant to last, it was just supposed to get you here. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ Your shirt comes off easily, the fabric light over your still-flat chest. There's no curve to hide. Your torso is smooth and angular, the way it's always been, even as everything else seems to keep shifting around you. You glance at your reflection, expecting to feel small. But you don't. Not quite. You don't need a bra for support, at least not yet. But you're here anyway, and it never hurts to get one just in case. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ You lift your top and tug it off in one smooth motion, revealing the snug band of your sports bra underneath. It's plain, and was a gift from someone who thought you'd need it. It does the job, pressing down just enough that you don't think about it too much during the day. You glance at the mirror and run your fingers under the band. It's not uncomfortable, but it's not great either. It's... functional. But you want comfortable. <<else>>\ You pull your shirt over your head slowly, revealing your bare chest underneath. You don't have a bra, or a binder, or anything. Your breasts are soft and visible, a quiet presence that's been increasingly harder to ignore. You came here for a reason. To stop pretending this isn't happening and to be comfortable. Maybe it's time to stop pretending that real is something to be afraid of. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ There's a gentle knock at the fitting room door. @@.girl;"Hey, it's Riley,"@@ comes her calm voice. @@.girl;"Ready for me to come in for the fitting?"@@ You swallow, barely managing a quiet, @@.player;"Yeah."@@ The door opens and Riley steps inside with a soft smile and a flexible measuring tape looped around her neck. She closes the door gently behind her, moving with a practiced confidence. It's clear she's done this a thousand times and isn't about to make it weird. @@.girl;"No stress,"@@ she says lightly. @@.girl;"It'll just be two quick measurements—should only take a second. Relax your arms for me?"@@ You nod and stand a little straighter, heart fluttering just beneath your skin. <<if $breastsProg is 3>>\ Riley starts with the band measurement—firm but gentle as she wraps the tape beneath your chest. Then she moves upward, looping it carefully around the fullest part of your chest. You feel the heat in your cheeks rise. There is ''definitely'' no hiding the size now. Riley finishes and pulls back with a nod. @@.girl;"You're measuring at a 36B,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"That means you'll probably want medium support—something with shaping, maybe a soft underwire. But there's no pressure to go structured unless you want it."@@ You blink. @@.player;"B?"@@ you repeat in a whisper. @@.girl;"Yep,"@@ she says, unfazed. @@.girl;"That's totally normal. You don't have to hide anything, but you don't have to show anything either. Just choose what feels right to you."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"That... helps."@@ <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ Riley wraps the measuring tape beneath your chest first, the soft edge resting against your ribs. She calls out the band size, then moves it upward, gently looping it across the curve of your chest. There's just enough pressure to feel, not enough to squeeze. You can't help noticing how much //more// there is than there used to be. She just reads the number, pulls back, and smiles. @@.girl;"You're a 34A,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Which means you've got some shape but you're still in the lighter support zone. I'll bring you soft cups, maybe one with some lining if you're curious about it."@@ You nod, arms hovering awkwardly at your sides. @@.girl;"You've got options here,"@@ she adds. @@.girl;"You don't have to hide anything, but you don't have to show anything either. Just choose what feels right to you."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"That... helps."@@ <<else>>\ Riley steps in front of you and wraps the measuring tape around your ribcage, right beneath your chest. It settles there without any resistance—just skin and bone, no curve to measure. She calls out a quiet number under her breath before shifting the tape upward across the flattest part of your chest. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, straightening. @@.girl;"You're measuring around a 32AA. That puts you in a flat-fit or soft bralette category. Just something comfortable and light."@@ You nod, exhaling slowly. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $bind to false>> <<button "See your options" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 7">><</button>>

<<set $bra to $d18bra>>\ <<set $topoff to false>>\ <<set $showbra to true>>\ <<set $braunlock to []>> <<if $d18mombrastoretogether is true>>\ <<if $d18bra is 0>>\ <<set $braunlock[0] to true>>\ You take the white bra off the hook, fingers brushing over the fabric. It's soft, smooth, and simple—no frills, no lace, no declarations. Just a clean, gentle garment that feels safe. You turn it over in your hands, feeling its lightness, the subtle elasticity in the band. It doesn't ask much of you. It doesn't demand you know who you are or how you want to be seen. It just exists. It's just neutral. You slip it on slowly and carefully. It hugs your chest like a whisper—present, but barely. Looking at yourself in the window, you almost don't look different. But //you// feel different. Your mom doesn't say anything, but she does give you a smile. You did enough for today. <<elseif $d18bra is 1>>\ <<set $braunlock[1] to true>>\ You hesitate the longest in front of the black one. It's the kind of bra that feels serious, like it belongs to someone confident. You take it off the hook, heart pounding a little, and slowly ease it on. It fits like a second skin—firm but not tight, clean lines, no lace or color to distract. In the mirror, you look sharper. Like someone who made a decision instead of getting swept into one. You breathe out, and it feels like the first full breath you've taken in a while. Your mom tilts her head, looking at you. @@.girl;"You look... grounded."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I guess that's kind of the point."@@ <<elseif $d18bra is 2>>\ <<set $braunlock[2] to true>>\ You reach for the lavender bra, hesitating for a second before lifting it from the hook. It feels light in your hands, the pale purple fabric catching the light. It's a small thing, but it does feels like a choice. You try it on, adjusting the straps slowly. It fits snugly, securely. You glance at yourself in the mirror, and it's still you, just with color. Your mom sees your expression and doesn't say anything for a moment. Then, quietly, @@.girl;"It suits you."@@ You nod, and though your voice barely comes out, it's steady. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, I think so too."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I guess, yeah."@@ <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18bra is 3>>\ <<set $braunlock[3] to true>>\ Your fingers hover over the lacy one for a full ten seconds before you finally take it down. It's delicate. Intricate. The floral patterns are stitched in black thread, the material a little sheer. It's pretty. You're not quite sure //why// you chose it, only that part of you //needs// to. You slip it on slowly, and it feels softer than it should. In that bra, it doesn't look like you're hiding, it looks like you're //being//. Your mom doesn't say anything at first. She watches you for a long moment before her expression softens. @@.girl;"Beautiful,"@@ she comments, nodding. You don't respond right away. You just stare at the mirror, eyes wide, chest rising and falling steadily. @@.player;"...Yeah,"@@ you whisper. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d18bra is 0>>\ <<set $braunlock[0] to true>>\ You reach for the white bra. It's the most neutral of the bunch—plain, seamless, and soft. The kind of thing you could wear and forget it's even there. No color to read into or message to send, it's just... safe. And safe feels okay right now. You unclip it and slip it on, the band fitting snugly around your ribs. It's gentle. Light. Not restrictive, just present. You glance at your reflection in the mirror and realize your body feels a little more comfortable, like it finally has permission to settle. There's no dramatic revelation or swelling music, just a soft kind of rightness. You breathe out and roll your shoulders. This, you can handle. <<elseif $d18bra is 1>>\ <<set $braunlock[1] to true>>\ Your fingers hover, then curl around the sleek black one. There's something about it—minimal, structured, and just a little bold. You're not sure what exactly draws you to it, but you want it. You try it on. The fabric hugs your chest firmly, but not uncomfortably. The straps feel solid. Supportive. You look at yourself in the mirror and for a second, you seem more grounded. There's a small shift in your spine, a straighter posture, and a breath that comes easier. You didn't expect this, but here you are. <<elseif $d18bra is 2>>\ <<set $braunlock[2] to true>>\ You hesitate over the lavender one. It's soft. Delicate, but not girly. Calm. You hold it up and it feels like something chosen—not just worn. Almost like it's for you. You slip it on. It fits perfectly—gentle and stretchy, not too tight, not too loose. The color is subtle, but undeniably there. You look in the mirror, expecting to feel awkward. But instead, you feel something close to warmth. It's not about standing out, it's about softening into yourself. <<elseif $d18bra is 3>>\ <<set $braunlock[3] to true>>\ Your eyes land on the lacy one. It's delicate. Floral-patterned. Slightly sheer. Something about it feels like stepping off a ledge and trusting the ground will rise up to catch you. You're not even sure why the hell you reach for it. Maybe it's because it scares you a little. Or maybe because it doesn't. You slip it on slowly. The lace settles across your chest. You face the mirror, expecting to feel ridiculous. But you don't. You actually, somehow, feel pretty. For a moment, you stop bracing against yourself. You just exist. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Bra shopping begone!" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 9">><</button>>

<<set $showbra to false>>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ You step out of the fitting room, now wearing your top over the bra you chose, the fabric soft and unfamiliar against your skin. It's strange how such a small thing can feel like a milestone. Like a line you didn't know you were ready to cross until you were already standing on the other side of it. Your mom smiles at you—warm, proud, but not overdoing it. She knows better than to make this moment bigger than you're ready for. @@.girl;"That's the one?"@@ she asks. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, nodding. She takes it from you with a gentle hand and heads to the counter while you hang back. Riley is already there waiting, hands resting on the counter. She doesn't ask questions or give any weird looks, just rings it up with a practiced ease. Your mom pays without hesitation. @@.girl;"I appreciate your help,"@@ she tells Riley. @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ Riley replies with a sincere smile. She then turns to you. @@.girl;"You made a great choice. First times can feel weird, I know, but you handled it really well."@@ You shift slightly, not quite sure what to do with the compliment. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you manage. @@.girl;"Take your time figuring out what fits,"@@ she adds. @@.girl;"Not just the size, but everything. You'll know when something's right."@@ You nod again, eyes lowering slightly. There's something soft in your chest, something that almost feels like relief. Your mom takes the bag, and you both turn to head out. The bell above the door chimes as you step into the mall again. The world feels a little brighter than when you first walked in. <<button "Bra acquired" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 10">><</button>>

<<if $d18stayblinkshine is true>>\ <<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<set $currenthairacessory to $hairaccessory>>\ <<set $currenthairstyle to $hairStyle>>\ You glance toward the accessories wall again. It feels safer. Less pressure. You're not trying on a skirt or a dress, they're just things you can take on or off. Little choices. @@.player;"I'll check that section out,"@@ you murmur, and your mom gives a small nod, following without comment. The two of you approach the display together, side by side. There's something weirdly comforting about that—like you're not totally alone. Your mom immediately gravitates toward a small rack of hair accessories and lets out a soft, amused breath. @@.girl;"Wow. Okay. These look nice."@@ You glance over and see her turning over a set of smooth, pastel hairpins in her fingers—three shades: red, lavender, and white. She tapes the red one against her own hair, squinting at her reflection in the display mirror. @@.girl;"Huh. I actually like the red,"@@ she says, half to herself. @@.girl;"Though I'd probably just lose it in the bottom of my purse within a week."@@ You smile faintly, then turn your attention to the little container of hair ties next to her. Four types sit coiled like soft spirals: <ul>\ <li>A plain elastic</li> <li>A simple ribbon</li> <li>A bunny ears ribbon</li> <li>A scrunchie</li> </ul>\ <<if $hairtie is 2 and $hairStyle is 1>>\ Your mom picks up the bunny-ear ribbon with a small, knowing smile. @@.girl;"Looks familiar, don't you think?"@@ You glance up, instinctively touching the one already tied in your hair. @@.player;"What can I say? It's iconic."@@ @@.girl;"Bold,"@@ she agrees, setting it back down with care. @@.girl;"But it works on you."@@ She doesn't press it. Just lets you keep browsing, like the quiet approval is enough. <<else>>\ Your mom lifts the bunny-ears tie with a tiny smile. @@.girl;"This one's definitely a personality."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"Is it a bit much?"@@ @@.girl;"Not necessarily,"@@ she says, still looking at it. @@.girl;"But it does say something. Might be fun, though. If you wanted to say it."@@ She doesn't ask if you do. She just sets it gently back into the bin and lets you browse. <</if>>\ You pick up the lavender pin, running your thumb across its smooth curve. It's small, barely the size of a matchstick, but it gleams under the soft store lights. It's small and quiet, but still... there. Your mom watches you for a beat, then glances at the display again. @@.girl;"No wrong answer,"@@ she murmurs. And for once, it really doesn't feel like there is one. <<button "Try some accessories on" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You linger near the front display for a few more moments, your eyes catching a few cute accessories. They do look cute, and they do feel like it could be something. But the longer you stand there, the more your shoulders tighten. It's not that anything's wrong. No one's staring. The music's calm, your mom's not pressuring you, the store staff are minding their business. And still, it feels like you're standing in a room built for someone who already knows who they are. Like the clothes and the accessories are all speaking a language you're not fluent in. You swallow, glance at your mom, and say it softly: @@.player;"I think... I don't want to shop here. Not today."@@ She looks up from the scarves she was absently thumbing through and immediately sets them back on the rack. @@.girl;"Alright."@@ You blink, almost surprised by how quickly she responds. She offers you a small, easy smile and adjusts the strap of her handbag. @@.girl;"You don't have to explain it,"@@ she says, stepping beside you. @@.girl;"Not everything has to click all at once."@@ You nod, eyes dropping to the floor. @@.player;"I just thought maybe... I don't know."@@ @@.girl;"Look, $name, I get it,"@@ she replies, rubbing your back lightly. @@.girl;"Some places look right until you're standing in the middle of them."@@ You crack a faint smile at that. @@.player;"Yeah. Pretty much."@@ She tilts her head toward the entrance. @@.girl;"Wanna find somewhere else?"@@ You glance once more at the shelves of accessories and then back toward the open mall walkway. You don't feel any regret, though—if anything, it's a relief. Like knowing when to take a breath and move on. @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.girl;"Let's go."@@ And without a second thought, your mom walks beside you as you step back into the flow of the mall. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ The clothes rest lightly in your arms as you bring them to the counter, folded carefully like they're something sacred. Maya beams the moment she sees you, and it's definitely not because she just made a sale. @@.girl;"Good pick,"@@ she says as she rings them up. @@.girl;"You're gonna look amazing."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, cheeks warm. Your mom stands at your side, quietly supportive. When Maya hands you the bag, her voice lowers just slightly. @@.girl;"Come back anytime, okay? We //always// get new stuff. And you wear this kind of look really well."@@ You nod, heart fluttering. @@.player;"I will."@@ You step out of the store and into the wider mall with the bag swinging lightly from your wrist. The clothes aren't heavy. They don't feel like risk or baggage. Instead, they feel like possibility. Your mom walks beside you, and you can feel the way she keeps glancing over with the tiniest smile on her lips. She seems... happy. Like she saw something shift in you, and she's proud to have witnessed it. @@.girl;"You look lighter,"@@ she says gently. @@.player;"I //feel// lighter,"@@ you respond. The world around you hasn't changed, but maybe //you// have. Just a little. <<else>>\ You walk up to the counter, the folded clothing resting in your hands like something you're still not sure you're supposed to be holding. Maya greets you with the same calm smile she's had on the entire time. She rings you up without commentary, no pressure, no questions. Your mom stands beside you, close enough to support but far enough to not hover. It feels like everyone is holding back, giving you space to sort out how you feel. When Maya hands you the bag, her voice is soft. @@.girl;"Thanks for stopping in."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Thanks."@@ You don't say more. You're not angry. Just... quiet. You take the bag and walk out, and the mall air feels a little sharper once you step outside the store. You're back in your regular clothes, back in a familiar world. Your mom glances sideways at you as you walk. She doesn't say anything right away, but you can tell she's waiting—offering an opening if you want to talk. You don't take it. Not yet. And that's okay. You don't really //know// what the clothes mean. You don't know if it felt good or weird or somewhere in between. But you let yourself try, and for now, that's enough. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><</button>>

<<if $hairStyle is 0 and $hairProg > 1>>\ <<set $hairStyle to 1>>\ <</if>>\ <<paperdoll>> <<button "Plain elastic">>\<<set $hairtie to 1>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Simple ribbon">>\<<set $hairtie to 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Bunny ears ribbon">>\<<set $hairtie to 3>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Scrunchie">>\<<set $hairtie to 4>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Lavender Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 1>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "White Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Red Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 3>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Remove Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 0>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine 3">><</button>>

<<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<set $hairaccessory to $currenthairaccessory>>\ <<set $hairStyle to $currenthairstyle>>\ You stand in front of the accessory mirror, holding the lavender pin between your fingers. You hesitate—just for a second—then clip it gently into your hair. It's a tiny thing, but when you glance up at your reflection, it adds something soft to your silhouette. A quiet curve of color. A decision. Behind you, your mom watches in the mirror with a slight smile. Not the teasing kind. The real kind that says "I see you." @@.girl;"You thinking about getting one?"@@ she asks gently, tilting her head toward the display. You glance down at the options still in your hands and feel a tug in your chest. Before you can say anything though, one of the sales associates appears beside you. Her name tag reads Maya in tiny, silver letters. She's in her twenties, with a bob and glittery eyeliner that somehow doesn't look overdone. @@.girl;"Oh, hey,"@@ she says warmly. @@.girl;"Just so you know—those hairpins are three for five dollars, and the hair ties are two bucks each. That one's one of our bestsellers."@@ She nods toward the bunny ear ribbon. Your mom's eyebrows lift slightly. @@.girl;"That's it? That's pretty reasonable."@@ @@.girl;"We try to keep the small stuff fun and affordable,"@@ Maya says, smiling. @@.girl;"Sometimes all it takes is one little thing to make someone's day."@@ She says it casually, and somehow, it doesn't feel like a sales pitch. You hold the pin and tie a little tighter now, watching yourself in the mirror. @@.girl;"You don't have to, $name,"@@ your mom says quietly. @@.girl;"But if it makes you feel like yourself, even a little... maybe it's a good idea to get it."@@ There's no push. No pressure. Just space. And it's yours to fill. <<button "Time to buy!" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine 4">><</button>>

$money USD left. <<if $hairtieUnlock[1] isnot true and $money > 1>>\ <<button "Plain elastic - 2 USD">>\<<set $hairtieUnlock[1] to true>>\<<set $money -= 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $hairtieUnlock[2] isnot true and $money > 1>>\ <<button "Simple ribbon - 2 USD">>\<<set $hairtieUnlock[2] to true>>\<<set $money -= 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $hairtieUnlock[3] isnot true and $money > 1>>\ <<button "Bunny ears ribbon - 2 USD">>\<<set $hairtieUnlock[3] to true>>\<<set $money -= 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $hairtieUnlock[4] isnot true and $money > 1>>\ <<button "Scrunchie - 2 USD">>\<<set $hairtieUnlock[4] to true>>\<<set $money -= 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $hairacessoriesUnlock[0] isnot true and $money > 4>>\ <<button "Hair Pins - 5 USD">>\<<set $hairacessoriesUnlock[0] to true>>\<<set $hairacessoriesUnlock[1] to true>>\<<set $hairacessoriesUnlock[2] to true>><<set $money -= 5>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Purchase" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine 5">><</button>>

<<if $d18stayblinkshine2 is true>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ You hesitate for a heartbeat, and you even glance toward the exit. But instead, you end up tightening your grip on the little accessory bag in your hand, look up at Maya, and say, quietly, @@.girl;"Yeah. Sure. I'll take a look."@@ Her smile widens—not pushy, just pleased. @@.girl;"Cool. This way."@@ Your mom trails behind you both, still giving you space but staying close, her arms folded casually. Maya leads you past a few display stands and toward the back where the racks are low and spaced out—each piece given room to breathe. @@.girl;"We don't really do fast fashion,"@@ Maya explains as she moves. @@.girl;"It's more curated."@@ You nod, slowly scanning the selection. There's a cream apron-style dress, pleated skirts, pink shorts, a denim skirt, and more. Behind you, your mom murmurs, @@.girl;"Pick out a few you want to try. No pressure. I'll hang out right here."@@ She sits on a nearby bench under the fitting room sign, pretending to be focused on her phone—but you know she's watching, quietly rooting for you to choose what feels right. Maya gives you space, stepping aside with a knowing smile and tapping a hanger lightly against her palm. @@.girl;"Dressing rooms are open whenever you're ready."@@ And now it's up to you. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ There may be issues with clipping and certain assets not fitting. Please understand! </div>\ <<button "Try some stuff on" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine 7">><</button>> <<else>>\ You find yourself shaking your head gently. @@.player;"Not today,"@@ you say. Maya doesn't miss a beat. @@.girl;"Totally fair,"@@ she states. @@.girl;"This kind of thing—trying things on, figuring out what fits—it should all be done at your own pace. Come back whenever you want. We're always adding new pieces."@@ @@.girl;"Good call,"@@ your mom says softly. @@.girl;"It's better to leave on your terms than let it overwhelm you."@@ The music fades behind you as the door opens, and you step back out into the mall. Small steps count, and this one feels like yours. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $top is 69 and $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $top to 0>>\ <<elseif $pants is 69 and $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <</if>>\ <<paperdoll>> <<button "Cream Apron Dress">>\<<set $top to 69>>\<<set $pants to 69>>\<<set $outfit to 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Cream Sweater">>\<<set $top to 15>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Heart Top">>\<<set $top to 19>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Black Pleated Skirt">>\<<set $pants to 11>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Brown Pleated Skirt">>\<<set $pants to 12>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Tank Top + Pink Sweater">>\<<set $top to 9>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Cute Denim Skirt">>\<<set $pants to 6>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Pink Shorts">>\<<set $pants to 16>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Denim Skirt">>\<<set $pants to 14>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Finish trying on clothes" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine 8">><</button>>

<<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $outfit to $tempoutfit>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ The door closes shut behind you with a soft //click//, sealing you in a little moment of your own. The fitting room is quiet, dimmed in a way that makes everything feel gentler—like it was designed for someone who needed the world to hush for a second. You glance down at what you're about to try on, resting neatly on the bench: a white tank top, an oversized sweater, a cute blue skirt—and a few other things that make your heart race. You sit for a moment, your hand resting on the sweater, feeling the hum of anticipation in your chest. Then, slowly, you begin to change. The tank top slides on easily, snug but not clingy. The sweater settles around your shoulders like it already knew where to fall, draping just slightly off to one side. And when you step into the skirt, you don't even flinch. You turn toward the mirror, and for a heartbeat, you freeze. Not from discomfort, but rather wonder. Because the person looking back at you isn't someone else. It's ''you''. But clearer. Softer around the edges, Like the static finally tuned out, and you got to hear the melody underneath. You blink slowly, and do a little spin—just enough to make the skirt flutter—and then laugh, surprised at yourself. It comes out light. Real. Your hands brush the hem. You smooth the front, then let it wrinkle again, then smooth it out once more. Not because you're unsure, but because you //like// the feeling of it. You feel, dare you say it, beautiful. You're not sure you've ever used that word about yourself. Not even jokingly. But it fits here, in this small mirror-lit moment, like it's always been waiting. There's a gentle knock on the door. @@.girl;"You doing okay in there?"@@ your mom asks, soft and curious. You pause, smile at the mirror, and answer without thinking. @@.player;"Yeah. I'm... really good."@@ There's a pause. You imagine her smile on the other side. You take one more minute—one more glance at yourself. You hold that little moment as tightly as you can, imprinting it into your soul like a pressed flower between pages. Then, carefully, you begin to change back. You fold the clothes gently, smoothing the fabric like it deserves your thanks. You step out of the fitting room, clothes folded in your arms, and Maya looks up from behind a rack. Her expression brightens, but it's not performative. Just... pleased. She can tell. Your mom is already standing nearby. She gives you one quick glance—just one—and her face softens instantly. @@.girl;"Well,"@@ she says, @@.girl;"that look must've felt good."@@ You nod. You're not grinning, but your cheeks are warm and your heart feels full in a way you can't explain. @@.player;"It did, Mom,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Like... really good."@@ Your mom doesn't make a fuss. She doesn't say anything grand. She just touches your shoulder and gives it a light squeeze—the kind that says "I see you," and "I'm proud of you," and "you're allowed to feel that way" all at once. And standing here, holding those clothes, you do. <<else>>\ You close the fitting room door behind you with a soft //click//, the gentle background hum of Blink + Shine's pop playlist muffled by the door. The clothes rest on the little bench beside you. They //should// be unthreatening, but even as you pull the first piece on, you can already feel it creeping in. The sensation of stepping into something that doesn't quite belong to you. You turn to the mirror as the fabric settles on your shoulder, and your stomach sinks a little. You don't look bad. The clothes technically //fit//. The cut is fine, the colors don't clash, and the sizing is pretty comfortable. But the person in the mirror? You don't know him. It's not a horror story and you're not disgusted or furious. But you feel this slow, sinking awkwardness pooling in your chest. You tilt your chin, stand up a little straighter, and even cross your arms in the hope that maybe if it hangs just right, it'll //click//. But every move feels forced. You try on another piece. A skirt this time. You tug it up carefully, smoothing it down and stepping back from the mirror. Still no shift. Just... the same dull thought floating around in your head like fog: "What am I even doing?" You press your lips together and blink. There's no anger. No shame. Just a kind of tired disappointment. You wanted to try and you did, but that doesn't mean it worked. You take off the clothes carefully, fold them back the way you found them, and place them on the bench. When you pull your regular top over your head—neutral, plain, familiar—you feel your shoulders settle. Not because it feels perfect, but because it feels like //yours//. You open the door quietly and step out. Your mom looks up from where she's seated, her phone resting in her lap. She offers a warm expression, but doesn't ask how it went. She doesn't have to. Maya glances over from where she's rearranging a rack of scarves. Her eyes flick to the clothes in your hands, and for just a second, you think she's going to ask. But she doesn't. She just smiles, small and neutral. @@.girl;"Everything fit okay?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, because technically it did. She nods. @@.girl;"Cool. Let me know if you need help checking anything out."@@ It felt strange, like none of //you// was in there. But maybe, just maybe, that doesn't mean you have to walk away empty-handed. <</if>>\ <<button "Time to purchase" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine 9">><</button>>

$money USD left. <<if $outfitUnlock[2] isnot true and $money > 29>>\ <<button "Cream Apron Dress - 30 USD">>\<<set $outfitUnlock[2] to true>>\<<set $money -= 30>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[15] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Cream Sweater - 15 USD">>\<<set $topUnlock[15] to true>><<set $money -= 15>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[19] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Heart Top - 15 USD">>\<<set $topUnlock[19] to true>><<set $money -= 15>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[11] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Black Pleated Skirt - 15 USD">>\<<set $pantsUnlock[11] to true>><<set $money -= 15>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[12] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Brown Pleated Skirt - 15 USD">>\<<set $pantsUnlock[12] to true>><<set $money -= 15>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[9] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Tank Top + Pink Sweater - 25 USD">>\<<set $topUnlock[9] to true>><<set $money -= 25>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[6] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Cute Denim Skirt - 15 USD">>\<<set $pantsUnlock[6] to true>><<set $money -= 15>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[16] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Pink Shorts - 15 USD">>\<<set $pantsUnlock[16] to true>><<set $money -= 15>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[14] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Denim Skirt - 15 USD">>\<<set $pantsUnlock[14] to true>><<set $money -= 15>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Purchase" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine 10">><</button>>

<<set $temp2 to true>>\ As you step into Blink + Shine, the air shifts immediately—lighter, a little warmer, and filled with the faint scent of peach. It's not overwhelmingly pink or frilly like you'd half-expected. Instead, the vibe is intentional. Stylish. Curated. The lighting is soft and diffused, bouncing off racks of lightweight jackets, breezy skirts, and wide-leg trousers. Your mom trails in just behind you. @@.girl;"This is actually kind of cute,"@@ she says, looking around the store. You nod, slowly taking it in. The music exiting the speakers is upbeat bubblegum pop, and a few other teens mill around. One side of the store has shelves of accessories that make you pause. Your mom follows your gaze and points. @@.girl;"That corner looks fun. Want to start there? It's up to you, we //do// have plenty of time."@@ The store isn't loud. It's feminine, sure, but in a subtle way. It's giving you space. And right now, you can take it. <<button "Head toward the accessories" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine 1">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine" "Head toward the accessories" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide to leave the store" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine 1">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine" "Decide to leave the store" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> ''NovaTrend'' is sleek and filled with plants, like a fashion blog brought to life. There are soft earth tones, cropped jackets, and baggy pants. Every display seems effortless yet curated. ''ShatterBox'' has dark walls, racks of fishnets, studded belts, combat boots, and merchandise from bands you don't even recognize. Mesh sleeves and eyeliner are practically required. ''Blink + Shine'' is so sparkly it's practically vibrating. Hair clips, lip gloss, and enamel pins shaped like raccoons are on display. ''Threadz'' is wall-to-wall graphic tees, oversized hoodies, and anime designs. It smells faintly like body spray and rebellion. ''StepUp Footwear'', a staple of the Crestview Bay mall, has so many shoes it nearly makes you dizzy. ''Cuddle Creations'' is a store that has just about every plushie you can imagine. <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<if $temp is false>>\ <<button "Head to NovaTrend" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom NovaTrend">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp1 is false>>\ <<button "Head to ShatterBox" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom ShatterBox">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp2 is false>>\ <<button "Head to Blink + Shine" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Blink + Shine">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp3 is false>>\ <<button "Head to Threadz" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Threadz">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp4 is false>>\ <<button "Head to StepUp Footwear" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom StepUp">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp5 is false>>\ <<button "Head to Cuddle Creations" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Head to the changing rooms" "Closet">><</button>> <<if $temp is true and $temp1 is true and $temp2 is true and $temp3 is true and $temp4 is true and $temp5>>\ <<button "Shopping done!" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 11">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d18momplushieq is 0>>\ You trail your fingers along the edge of a display labeled "Classics Reimagined," but your mind isn't on the little cardboard sign or the tiered shelves. Your eyes catch on a plushie tucked near the back of the row—half-buried behind some newer, trendier animals with oversized eyes and pastel fur. It's a stuffed turtle—a simple green shell, wide stitched smile, slightly floppy limbs. There's nothing flashy about it, but something about the shape and the way the seams curve— Your chest catches. @@.player;"Wait a second,"@@ you say quietly, leaning down and picking it up. @@.player;"No way."@@ You turn it over in your hands, staring. It's not //exactly// the same, but it is close. Close enough that something deep in your memory stirs. You hold it up and turn toward your mom. @@.player;"Mom, do you remember this guy?"@@ She leans in, squinting. For a second, she doesn't seem to recognize it. Then her eyes widen. @@.girl;"Oh my God,"@@ she breathes. @@.girl;"The turtle. From preschool. You carried that thing everywhere you went."@@ You smile, not even trying to hide it. @@.player;"I think I named him... Swimmy? Or... no, wait—Squirt."@@ @@.girl;"Squirt!"@@ she laughs. @@.girl;"Yes! And you used to tuck him under your arm like he was your sidekick. You even brought him to the grocery store for, like, three years straight."@@ You turn the plush around again, a weird warmth rising in your throat. @@.player;"I thought he got lost,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"I looked for him in the toy bin for //weeks//."@@ Your mom's face softens. @@.girl;"I think he did get lost, now that I think about it. On a trip to your Aunt's place. You were so upset we let you sleep in our bed for a week."@@ You chuckle quietly. @@.player;"That sounds about right, yeah."@@ There's a beat of silence as you stand there with the turtle in your hands, its head tilted to one side like it's listening in. Your mom watches you, her gaze a little more serious now, but still gentle. @@.girl;"You always took such good care of your toys. You used to say they had feelings. That if you left one out, it'd be lonely."@@ You nod, fingers brushing the turtle's seam. @@.player;"I guess part of me still thinks that."@@ She smiles. @@.girl;"I don't think that's a bad part."@@ You hold the turtle close for a moment longer. Somehow, it's just a plushie and also not. <<elseif $d18momplushieq is 1>>\ You walk slowly along the edge of a display shaped like a giant wooden crescent moon, plushies stacked like sleepy stars along its curve. You're scanning for something that calls out to you, but instead, for whatever reason, your eyes flick toward your mom. She's a few steps behind you, trailing thoughtfully, her purse held loosely at her side. She's not on her phone or pretending to be preoccupied. Just watching. Letting you move at your own pace. You reach for a plushie shaped like a donut with tiny legs and a worried little smile stitched into the frosting, then pause. A thought strikes you. You glance back. @@.player;"Hey... what about you, Mom?"@@ She looks up. @@.girl;"Me?"@@ You nod and hold the plush out toward her. @@.player;"If you //had// to pick one. What would you go for?"@@ She blinks, caught off guard, then lets out a soft laugh—surprised, but not dismissive. @@.girl;"You want me to get one?"@@ @@.player;"I mean... yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You're allowed to like cute things too."@@ She walks over and takes the donut from you, squinting at its little face. @@.girl;"This one looks like it's apologizing just for existing."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Relatable."@@ She chuckles, then sets it gently back on the shelf and scans the rows around her. Her fingers drift over a sleepy seal, then a penguin with a scarf. Eventually, she pauses at a slightly lopsided fox with a patch on one ear. Her expression softens. @@.girl;"I like this one,"@@ she says after a moment, picking it up carefully. @@.girl;"It's kind of ragged-looking. I like that."@@ You watch her tilt it in her hands. There's something kind in the way she holds it—absent-minded, sure, but familiar. You can't help but wonder how many toys she held like this when you were little. How many nights she tucked a plushie back under your arm after you dropped it in your sleep. @@.player;"Would you actually keep it?"@@ you ask, half-smiling. She shrugs, giving the fox a small pat on the head. @@.girl;"I mean, why not? I don't //need// one. But... I wouldn't mind having something nice on my nightstand. Something a little dumb. Something soft."@@ Then she looks over at you, her tone playful: @@.girl;"You don't grow out of needing comfort, $name. You just stop giving yourself permission to ask for it."@@ You fall quiet for a second. She doesn't push. She just stands there, holding the little fox with its mismatched ears, perfectly comfortable. For some reason, asking that question made everything feel a little easier. <<elseif $d18momplushieq is 2>>\ You're standing in front of a wall named "Huggables," but it's less of a wall and more of a soft mountain of plushies the size of laundry baskets. There are squishy whales, sleepy lions, and one enormous jellyfish that seems to be made of pure marshmallow. Your mom gives it a skeptical poke. @@.girl;"I'm sorry, but where would this even //go//? It would take up half your bed."@@ @@.player;"I think that's the point,"@@ you reply, snorting. She raises an eyebrow and glances at you. @@.girl;"So? You going big today? Something to really flop onto?"@@ You pause. You hadn't really thought about it that way—but as you scan the pile of oversized plushies again, they don't quite call out to you. You know they're soft, and they'd be comfortable in theory. But they feel... overwhelming. Too big. Too much. You drift a few steps back toward a bin labeled "Pocket Pals," filled with smaller plushies you can cup in one hand. Some are shaped like cats curled into balls. Others are tiny bees and bunnies. They don't try to be the center of attention. Instead, they just... exist. @@.player;"I think I like the smaller ones better,"@@ you admit after a moment. @@.player;"I don't know. The big ones are nice, sure, but I'd probably never touch it."@@ Your mom nods thoughtfully. @@.girl;"That makes sense."@@ She reaches into the bin and picks up a tiny gray bear with a tiny heart stitched onto its chest. @@.girl;"After all, you //were// always the kid who brought the smallest plush on the trip. Never the big flashy one. Just the little guy that fit in your pocket."@@ You smile, because you remember. You used to tuck one into your backpack at school sometimes. Just to have something with you. @@.player;"I like that they're small enough to keep around,"@@ you say. @@.player;"They don't take up space, they're just a part of it."@@ She turns the bear around in her hands, then gently places it back. @@.girl;"It's like having company without needing to explain anything."@@ You glance at her, surprised that she gets it. She gives a small shrug. @@.girl;"What? I raised you. I know what comfort looks like on your face."@@ Your ears go a little warm, but you smile. She's not wrong. It feels like something soft and small will make you feel seen. <<elseif $d18momplushieq is 3>>\ You find yourself standing in front of the "Huggables" wall—if you can even call it a wall. It's more like an avalanche, to say the least. The oversized animals are stacked in huge, pillowy heaps: giant sleepy whales, a bear lying flat like it gave up on life, a giraffe that's mostly neck, and an octopus so wide you could use it as a couch. Your mom eyes the pile with a hint of awe. @@.girl;"Okay, I knew you liked stuffed animals, but I didn't know you liked... ones these big."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, laughing under your breath. @@.player;"I kind of do."@@ @@.girl;"I mean, I respect the commitment,"@@ she says, eyebrows raised. @@.girl;"But look at that one. It's as big as a dorm mattress."@@ You walk a little closer, trailing your fingers along a huge tan cat with a soft stitched yawn and paws the size of your face. It's ridiculous. Massive. It would dominate your bed, leave less room for your legs, and probably steal the blanket in the middle fo the night. And you still love it. @@.player;"I like that they're so... I don't know. Solid,"@@ you say after a second. @@.player;"Like you can really hold onto them. They don't feel like something you'll lose under the covers."@@ Your mom studies you for a beat, listening. @@.player;"Now that I think about it, I think it's all about the weight,"@@ you continue, half to yourself. @@.player;"Like... when I hug a big one, it feels like something is hugging back."@@ She smiles at that, more tenderly than you expect. @@.girl;"Now that,"@@ she says softly, @@.girl;"makes perfect sense."@@ You bend slightly and pull out a huge frog with long limbs and sleepy eyes. It practically spills out of your arms, but when you hug it to your chest, it presses back with just enough weight to feel //there//. @@.player;"I don't care if it takes up the whole bed,"@@ you admit, grinning a little. @@.player;"It just feels good."@@ Your mom folds her arms and leans against the nearby shelf. @@.girl;"Well, we'll need to find room in the trunk if this thing's coming home. Might have to strap it into the backseat."@@ You both laugh, and she reaches out to squish the frog's foot with her hand. @@.girl;"You always were a tactile kid,"@@ she adds. @@.girl;"You used to fall asleep clinging to your pillow like it was going to float away."@@ You press your cheek into the plushie for a moment. @@.player;"Suppose some things haven't changed."@@ @@.girl;"And some things shouldn't."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Pick a plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 2">><</button>>

You wander a little deeper into the store, the air growing even softer somehow. Your mom trails behind you, still smiling faintly. She doesn't say anything, instead letting you take your time. The only sound is the quiet lull of the music and the muffled crinkle of tags as you gently pick up the possibilities. You're only getting one. That's the rule. Space, budget, logic—they all say one. But your heart? It makes things harder. You stop at a low shelf nestled near the floor, where a goat plushie sits quietly. It's soft gray with tiny, twisted felt horns and hooves that look like they were sewn lovingly. It's got a dumb, slightly lopsided grin, and its little tail sticks out like it's mid-hop. You grin without meaning to. @@.player;"This guy looks like it eats paper when you're not watching."@@ Your mom snorts. @@.girl;"It'd //definitely// chew through your math homework and then blame it on someone else."@@ You hold it for a second longer. It's weird, but also kind of perfect. A few steps over, tucked in a small basket like it's hiding, you spot a meerkat plushie—long body, beady eyes, paws tucked up like it's always on alert. It looks perpetually curious and nervous, like it wants to be included but also doesn't want to mess anything up. You run a thumb across its fur and say, @@.player;"I think this one's overthinking everything."@@ Your mom leans over and squints. @@.girl;"Reminds me of someone."@@ @@.player;"Rude,"@@ you state, giving her a playful glare. @@.player;"Accurate, sure. But rude."@@ On a nearby table, posed between two sunflowers made of fabric, you see a round, fuzzy, bee plushie. It's got stubby little wings, a soft yellow belly, and a dopey stitched smile like it doesn't know how to fly but is still trying really, really hard. The wings flap when you shake it a little. Your mom hums in amusement. @@.girl;"It looks like it'd be good at giving pep talks and bad at personal space."@@ You gently pat its fuzzy head, and it //boings// slightly. @@.player;"Come on, it's trying his best."@@ <<if $d18momplushieq is 1>>\ Then, just as you're about to move on, your eyes catch on a display near the checkout. Sitting quietly on a shelf is that ragged fox plushie your mom picked up earlier. The one with the crooked ear and the threadbare patch on its belly. It's right where she left it, a little slouched, still waiting. She notices you noticing. @@.girl;"Oh, don't worry about that one,"@@ she says quickly, brushing it off. @@.girl;"I just thought it was cute. I don't need one."@@ But her voice is a little too quick and a little too dismissive. You turn to her, watching the way she glances down, not quite meeting your eyes. You remember the way she held it earlier—absently, sure, but with a kind of fondness that's impossible to fake. You //could// get that one for her. As a quiet thank you. For all of this. <<else>>\ @@.girl;"It really is, isn't it,"@@ your mom comments. <</if>>\ @@.player;"I can only get one,"@@ you mutter, steeling yourself. Your mom, now beside you again, lifts a brow and crosses her arms. @@.girl;"No pressure,"@@ she says lightly. @@.girl;"But //do// make it count."@@ You look between them all—each one a different kind of comfort. Despite all of them saying something about you, only one's coming home. <<set $d18plushchoice to false>>\ <<if $money > 19>>\ <<button "Get the goat plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 3">>\<<set $d18plushchoice to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_plushchoice" "Get the goat plushie" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get the meerkat plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 3">>\<<set $d18plushchoice to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_plushchoice" "Get the meerkat plushie" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get the bee plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 3">>\<<set $d18plushchoice to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_plushchoice" "Get the bee plushie" "story">><</button>> <<if $d18momplushieq is 1>>\ <<button "Get the fox plushie for your mom" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 3">>\<<set $d18plushchoice to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_plushchoice" "Get the fox plushie for your mom" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Decide against getting a plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 3">><</button>>

<<set $textbox to true>>\ <<if $d18plushchoice is false>>\ You stand there for a long moment, the weight of the decision settling heavier than expected. The plushies stare back at you—not literally, of course, but the way their little stitched eyes gleam under the soft lights, you //feel// them watching. You glance at the crooked grin of the goat, the little meerkat standing tall as if still hoping you'll reach for it, and the bee buzzing as it waits. Each one still. Quiet. Expectant. Your mom stands a few feet away, not saying anything. She thinks this is simple. A cute store. A little shopping trip. But it really isn't that simple. Not to you, at least. You look down at your hands and they're empty. You fold your arms slowly, then unfold them. The ache in your chest doesn't come from not finding the right one. It comes from something harder to name. You take a step back. And for a split second, it feels like the air changes. The plushies don't move. But your imagination fills the space. The bee's smile wilts just a little. The meerkat lowers its paws. The little goat that once looked so mischievous now just seems.. confused. You walk past the shelf, and you swear you feel them lean toward you. Just slightly. Like a whisper, begging you to not go. But you do. Your mom notices your empty hands as you approach the exit. She glances at you, quiet for a second. @@.girl;"Changed your mind?"@@ You nod once. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ That's all you say. And as the door chimes behind you, the warmth of the store fades, replaced by the colder hum of the mall. You don't look back. But part of you wishes that you had. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 0>>\ <<set $goatplush to true>>\ <<set $goatplushieName = "Bartholomew">>\ You hold the goat plushie in your hands, its little lopsided smile still staring up at you like it knows //exactly// what it is and couldn't care less. Its soft gray body fits perfectly in the crook of your arm, like it's been carried around forever. The felt horns are slightly crooked, and one ear sticks out at a defiant angle. You squeeze it gently. It doesn't just feel right. It feels like you picked each other. Your mom chuckles from beside you. @@.girl;"A goat, huh?"@@ @@.player;"He's got something going on,"@@ you reply, nodding. @@.player;"You can tell just by looking at him."@@ She smirks. @@.girl;"Definitely plotting something. Probably sabotage. Or tax evasion."@@ You head to the front with him tucked under your arm, where a cheerful employee with glitter nail polish and a name tag that reads ''Jenn'' greets you behind the corner. @@.girl;"Oh my God,"@@ Jenn says, beaming. @@.girl;"You picked Grumble Goat! That's one of our limited runs. We call him Grumble because he always looks like he's about to lecture a room full of children."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"That //does// track."@@ Jenn rings him up, scanning the little tag with care, then gestures toward a nearby kiosk lined with pastel paper and screens. @@.girl;"Alright, here comes the fun part,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Every plushie adoption comes with a welcome certificate. You get to give him a name and tell us a little about him, and we'll print it out for you."@@ @@.player;"Oh,"@@ you blink. @@.player;"Like.. a real name name?"@@ @@.girl;"Yup,"@@ she nods, grinning. @@.girl;"His identity is in your hands."@@ You glance at the screen, then down at the goat. He stares back, smug. @@.player;"I feel like if I don't name him something ridiculous, he'll haunt me,"@@ you say. Jenn snorts. @@.girl;"He'll haunt you either way. But naming him seals the bond."@@ Your mom laughs quietly behind you. @@.girl;"Better not pick something you'll regret."@@ You stand there, typing slowly on the soft, glowing screen. After a moment of thought, you enter a name. <<textbox "$goatplushieName" "Bartholomew">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 1>>\ <<set $meerkatplush to true>>\ <<set $meerkatplushieName = "Nibbles">>\ You hold the little meerkat plushie gently in your hands, its tiny paws curled close to its chest, its eyes wide with that familiar, soft anxiety. There's something about it that makes you want to keep it safe. You imagine it standing guard on your desk, nervously watching over your snacks and overthinking every decision you make. It's sweet. Loyal. Just a little nervous. The little guy seems like he's still not entirely convinced it deserves to be picked. @@.player;"I like this one,"@@ you murmur, and your mom smiles from beside you. @@.girl;"He's got a worried little face,"@@ she says, reaching over to lightly tap his nose. @@.girl;"Like he's concerned about your laundry."@@ @@.player;"Or my grades."@@ @@.girl;"Which, to be fair, someone //should// be."@@ The employee at the counter—Jenn, according to her glittery name tag—looks up to you as you approach, her expression lighting up when she sees who you've chosen. @@.girl;"Ooh,"@@ she says, clapping her hands once. @@.girl;"You picked a PeekPal!"@@ You blink. @@.player;"A what now?"@@ She leans over the counter and gestures to the tag on the meerkat's side. Sure enough, printed in soft blocky font: ''PeekPal Series — For The Quiet Kind of Brave.'' @@.girl;"They're one of our newer lines,"@@ Jenn explains. @@.girl;"Designed for people who overthink everything but still show up anyway. This guy's part of the "Cautious but Courageous" collection."@@ You glance down at the meerkat, and his little stitched eyes somehow seem even more sincere now. You press your thumb gently against one of his tiny felt paws. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur. @@.girl;"That sounds about right."@@ Jenn grins. @@.girl;"He looks like he needs a loyal human. And snacks. Probably lots of snacks."@@ Jenn rings him up, scanning the little tag with care, then gestures toward a nearby kiosk lined with pastel paper and screens. @@.girl;"Alright, let's get him officially settled. Like all our new adoptions, he needs a name to go home with."@@ She shows you the screen with softly blinking text: ''Name Your PeekPal'' Below it, a text field is already waiting—cursor blinking slowly. You look down at the meerkat in your arms. He stares back like he's ready to panic, but also maybe like he trusts you to handle this part. You adjust your grip just slightly, cradling him like something small and worth protecting. Jenn smiles warmly. @@.girl;"Whenever you're ready."@@ And you are. <<textbox "$meerkatplushieName" "Nibbles">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 2>>\ <<set $beeplush to true>>\ <<set $beeplushieName = "Bumbles">>\ The bee plushie's still right where you left it—propped up between two oversized sunflower made of fabric like it's trying its best to look important. Its fuzzy yellow belly is round, with stubby little black legs and soft felt wings that wobble slightly when you move it. It looks like it would absolutely volunteer for something and immediately panic about it. You reach for it without hesitation. There's something about this one. It's not the biggest, nor the softest, but it looks like it would sit next to you on your desk and remind you to drink water and breathe. Like it would give you a pep talk in a squeaky voice before an important exam, even if it was nervous too. Your mom watches as you hold it close to your chest, giving it an experimental squeeze. It squishes just enough. Like a hug and a cheer all in one. @@.girl;"Is this the one?"@@ she asks gently. You nod. At the register, the employee at the counter—Jenn, according to her name tag—lights up the second she sees what you're holding. @@.girl;"Ooh, you picked a BuzzBuddy!"@@ You blink. @@.player;"That's... a thing?"@@ Jenn nods, her earrings jingling as she grins. @@.girl;"Absolutely. That's part of our Support Squad Line. BuzzBuddies are known for showing up, spiraling a little, and then doing their best anyway."@@ You laugh—because yeah. It does track. Jenn rings the bee up, scanning the little tag with care, then gestures toward a nearby kiosk lined with pastel paper and screens. @@.girl;"Here, this is the most important part of the adoption process."@@ The screen in front of you glows with soft yellow and white, little sparkles floating lazily behind a blinking text box. ''Name Your BuzzBuddy'' The cursor blinks, waiting. You glance down at your bee. He stares back up at you with relentless optimism. It's like it's already buzzing with a name—it just needs you to say it out loud. <<textbox "$beeplushieName" "Bumbles">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 3>>\ <<set $momplush to true>>\ <<grantAchievement "FoxPlushie">>\ You spot the ragged little fox still sitting where your mom left it, its patchy ear folded slightly forward, as if it's been eavesdropping this whole time. It hasn't moved an inch—just resting there with that crooked tail and the worn thread on its belly like it's been waiting quietly to be remembered. You glance back at your mom. She's across the aisle, gently testing the squish of a mushroom-shaped pillow, pretending to be entirely focused on the texture. But her eyes flick over, just for a second, to where that little fox still sits. She looks away again like it didn't mean anything. Like she hadn't been thinking about it since she set it down. You pick it up, feeling the soft weight of it in your hands. It's a little older than the others, the stitching slightly uneven, the fur a little matted—but it //is// warm. Lopsided. Endearing in a way that makes your chest ache a little. It's definitely not the cutest plushie in the store, but it's the one your mom held earlier with fingers that lingered just a little too long. The one she set down carefully, pretending it hadn't mattered. You saw the soft smile flicker on her face when she thought you weren't looking. So you carry it to the counter, where a cheerful employee with glitter nail polish and a name tag that reads ''Jenn'' greets you behind the corner. @@.girl;"Aww,"@@ she murmurs, reaching out to brush a thumb over the fox's patched ear. @@.girl;"You're taking this little guy home? He's been waiting a long time."@@ You glance over your shoulder at your mom, who's standing a few feet away, distracted by a display of oversized plush toast. @@.player;"He's not for me,"@@ you say, smiling. Jenn raises an eyebrow. You turn back toward your mom and call, @@.player;"Hey, Mom?"@@ She looks up. @@.girl;"Yeah?"@@ You hold up the fox. @@.player;"I got this for you."@@ Her expression falters, like you just knocked the wind out of her in the kindest way. She blinks once, twice. @@.girl;"For me?"@@ @@.player;"Well, you did like him,"@@ you say, suddenly a little shy. She walks over slowly, her hand already lifting toward her chest like she's bracing for something. When you pass the fox into her arms, she holds him like something precious. Her fingers curl around his worn body, thumb resting just under his crooked ear. @@.girl;"Oh, sweetheart..."@@ she says, voice wavering at the edges. @@.girl;"I wasn't expecting—"@@ She stops. Because her throat catches. She holds the plush closer, clutching it against her chest like he's something warm she's been needing for a long time. You watch her eyes glass over, and even though she tries to wave it off—@@.girl;"It's just a silly plush, I'm fine, I'm fine"@@—you know it's more than that. You can see it. She presses a kiss to the fox's head like it's instinct, like this is something she forgot she needed. Like maybe no one's ever given her something soft just for her in a long, long time. Jenn stays quiet, smiling wide but not saying anything as she leads you to a kiosk. @@.girl;"He's all yours now,"@@ she says softly. @@.girl;"Go ahead—give him his name."@@ Your mom sniffs once and laughs again, wiping the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. @@.girl;"He needs something proper,"@@ she murmurs, clearing her throat. @@.girl;"Something that suits him. He's been through a lot, I can tell."@@ She looks down at the screen. The words ''Name your Plush Friend'' blink back at her, waiting. She glances at you again before turning back to type. The little fox in her arms shifts ever so slightly as she leans forward, still held close like he might just fly away. Your mom names him. <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $textbox to false>>\ <<set $money -= 20>>\ <<if $d18plushchoice is 0>>\ The moment you tap the screen and type in the name—$goatplushieName—the tablet makes a soft little //ding// and a tiny animation of a sparkly goat confetti explosion fills the screen. It's so dumb and earnest you can't help but grin. @@.girl;"$goatplushieName,"@@ the employee reads with absolute sincerity, as if this is a sacred naming ceremony. @@.girl;"Excellent choice. Very noble."@@ She taps a few more buttons and then turns the screen around to you so you and your goat can see it together: ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $goatplushieName!'' A digital badge appears beneath it that says "Certified Goofball." @@.girl;"Alright!"@@ she says cheerfully. @@.girl;"Let's make it official."@@ She leads you over to a little podium with a soft, pastel printer built into it. From the top slides out a cream-colored certificate printed on a thick, textured paper. She carefully pulls it free and presents it to you like it's a diploma. You take it with both hands. It reads: ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $goatplushieName, a Goat of Great Personality and Questionable Impulse Control, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. May your hugs be strong, your snacks be shared, and your secrets be safe. You almost laugh, but you don't. Not really. Something about it feels honest. Like it matters, even if just a little. The employee wraps $goatplushieName in a soft tissue paper blanket, careful not to squish his horns, and gently places him into a white tote bag printed with the Cuddle Creations logo: a sleeping moon curled around a smiling bear. @@.girl;"Take good care of him, alright?"@@ she says, her voice lighter now. @@.girl;"Let me tell you, he's //definitely// one of the troublemakers."@@ Your mom takes the bag while you tuck the certificate away, and as both of you step out of the store, she glances at you sideways. @@.girl;"$goatplushieName, huh?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It felt right."@@ She smiles. @@.girl;"He seems like a handful."@@ You smile back, your hands resting against the outside of the bag, feeling the faint plush curve of his little goat ear through the fabric. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But he's mine."@@ <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 1>>\ You take a breath, then tap at the screen. Your fingers hover for just a second, then you type: $meerkatplushieName. There's a soft //ding// as the screen sparkles with a flash of yellow and beige confetti. A tiny animated version of your meerkat appears in the corner, popping out behind a cactus with a little digital squeak. Jenn gasps like it's a sacred rite. @@.girl;"$meerkatplushieName! Oh my God, that is perfect. He sounds like someone who apologizes every time he sneezes."@@ You glance down at the little guy in your arms. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur, smiling a little. She taps a few more buttons and then turns the screen around to you so you and your new buddy can see it together: ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $meerkatplushieName!'' A digital badge appears beneath it that says "Overthinker, Hug Magnet, Snack Enthusiast." @@.girl;"Alright!"@@ Jenn says, clearly delighted. @@.girl;"Let's make it official."@@ She leads you over to a side counter with a rounded little podium and a pastel printer. From the top, a cream-colored certificate slides out slowly, printed on textured paper that smells faintly of vanilla. She pulls it free with both hands and presents it to you like it's a diploma. It reads: ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $meerkatplushieName, a proud member of the PeekPal Series, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. Though he lives in constant fear of loud noises and minor inconveniences, he will show up, be brave, and offer his tiny paws anyway. Provide snacks often. Encouragement always. You almost chuckle. Jenn wraps $meerkatplushieName in pale yellow tissue paper with a tiny sticker that says "He's safe now." Then she places him into a soft blue tote bag printed with the Cuddle Creations logo: a sleepy moon cuddling with a bear. @@.girl;"Keep him close,"@@ she says, her voice softer now. @@.girl;"He's the kind that needs reminding he's loved. But I think you're the right person for that."@@ Your mom accepts the bag with a little nod of thanks while you tuck the certificate carefully into your backpack. As you both exit the store, she glances over with a smile tugging at her lips. @@.girl;"$meerkatplushieName?"@@ she asks, amused. You shrug, your hands brushing the outside of the bag where the plush's little curled arms are pressed under the fabric. @@.girl;"He looked like a $meerkatplushieName."@@ Your mum hums. @@.girl;"He looks like he'd worry about it if you didn't name him right."@@ You smile back, quiet and full. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But I think I got it right."@@ <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 2>>\ You tap the screen slowly, thumbs hovering for a moment. Then you type: $beeplushieName. The tablet gives a cheerful //ding// and erupts in a burst of animated flowers, glitter, and little pixel bees that zigzag around the screen in chaotic, excited loops. One of them bumps into a flower and just kind of spins. Jenn gasps in mock awe. @@.girl;"$beeplushieName! That's //adorable//."@@ She taps a few more buttons, grinning like she's helping officiate a wedding. Then she turns the screen around so you and your fuzzy new friend can see it together: ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $beeplushieName!'' A digital badge appears underneath: "Certified Encouragement Specialist – Level 1 Buzz" Jenn claps. @@.girl;"Okay! Let's make it official."@@ She leads you to a curved podium where the little marshmallow-looking printer whirs to life. A cream-colored certificate slides out from the top, printed on soft textured paper with a honeycomb border and a smiling bee in the corner. She hands it to you with both hands like it's sacred. You take it carefully. It reads: ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $beeplushieName, proud member of the BuzzBuddy Support Squad, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. Though he is often overwhelmed and mildly vibrating with panic, he will always try his best, encourage those around him, and commit to emotional support with great enthusiasm. Buzz responsibly. You stare at the words, feeling something settle in your chest—light, but firm. A tiny voice whispering "you've got this." Jenn gently wraps $beeplushieName in yellow tissue paper patterned with little daisies and places him in a sunny gold tote bag with the Cuddle Creations logo and the words "Soft Friends, Big Feelings" beneath it. She hands it over with a wink. @@.girl;"He's gonna freak out a little, but don't worry—he's a loyal little guy once he settles."@@ Your mom accepts the bag while you tuck the certificate carefully into your backpack. As you both leave the store, she glances at you sideways with a knowing smile. @@.girl;"$beeplushieName, huh?"@@ You shrug, already holding the bag close. @@.player;"He just looked like he had a lot of feelings."@@ She smiles back. @@.girl;"That's a perfect match, then."@@ You don't argue. Instead, you just walk a little lighter, the soft weight of $beeplushieName pressed to your side—like maybe, just maybe, you really //do// have this. <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 3>>\ Your mom's fingers hover over the tablet for a long moment before she types. Percy. There's a soft //ding// as the screen glows gold and orange, a tiny digital fox trotting across the screen with a little patched belly, twirling once before curling up beside the words: ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, Percy!'' A small digital badge appears underneath: "Certified Resilience Specialist – Classy and a Little Worn In" Jenn clasps her hands to her chest. @@.girl;"Oh my God, that's so sweet. Percy! He sounds like he wears sweaters and knows when you need tea."@@ Your mom laughs, still a little teary-eyed, and brushes her knuckle gently against Percy's soft, uneven head. @@.girl;"Oh, he absolutely does."@@ Jenn taps a few more buttons, and the adoption printer hums softly behind the counter. From the top slides a cream-colored certificate, edged in tiny acorns and little pawprints. She pulls it free and hands it to your mom. Your mom takes it slowly, like she's afraid it'll vanish if she grabs it too fast. ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that Percy, a fox of patience, wisdom, and slight grumpiness in the mornings, has been lovingly adopted by Hannah on this day. May he bring comfort, companionship, and perfectly timed cuddles when the world asks too much and your tea gets cold. He may look a little scruffy, but that just means he's lived—and is still here. Your mom lets out a shaky breath, smiling so wide now she doesn't even try to hide it. She doesn't say anything for a few seconds—just keeps looking at the paper like it says something more than what's written. Then Jenn gently wraps Percy in warm orange tissue paper, folding it neatly around him with a sticker that reads: "He's safe now." She places him into a soft gray bag with the Cuddle Creations logo and hands it over. Your mom hesitates, then hugs the bags close like it holds more than a plush. Almost as if it holds her heart. Jenn beams. @@.girl;"He's a good one. Quiet type, but loyal. I think he's been waiting for //exactly// you."@@ Your mom doesn't say thank you, at least not with words. She just nods and wipes beneath her eyes with her knuckle again, eyes shining. As you both step out of the store together, her arm brushes yours. She doesn't say anything right away. Then: @@.girl;"Thank you,"@@ she murmurs. @@.girl;"You didn't have to... but you did."@@ @@.player;"He looked like he needed someone,"@@ you say, looking over and smiling softly. @@.player;"I figured you did too."@@ She presses the bag a little closer to her chest, and the look she gives you is one of understanding, love, and that quiet kind of gratitude that doesn't go away. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp5 to true>>\ You step into Cuddle Creations, and it's like the mall disappears behind you. The air is warm in that very specific way only soft things are—not hot, not stuffy, just gentle. Like the world itself has lowered its volume a little. The walls are painted with soft, looping clouds and stars that look hand-drawn, glowing faintly under the light. Shelves rise in curved rows, each one packed with plushies of every shape and size. You don't even know where the hell to look first. Your mom follows you in, a little slower, her purse slung across her shoulder. You catch her eyes widening slightly at the sheer number of plushies. She lifts an eyebrow and looks over at you, saying, @@.girl;"Wow. This place is kind of amazing."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah, it's really nice."@@ She picks up a tiny axolotl plush that fits in her palm and turns it in her hands. @@.girl;"Okay, serious question,"@@ she says, glancing up at you with a little smile. @@.girl;"Do you still like these? I mean, you //are// eighteen now. And I'm not saying that means you're too old or anything, but..."@@ Her tone is gentle—genuinely curious, not teasing. @@.player;"I still do,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I don't know how to describe it, exactly. It's just comforting. I don't have to explain anything to a stuffed animal. They just kind of //exist//."@@ Your mom smiles more fully now, the lines at the corners of her eyes crinkling. She puts the axolotl back and nods. @@.girl;"That makes a lot of sense. You were always the kind of kid who held onto things for way too long. Stuffed animals, drawings, even weird rocks you found in the yard. I think I kind of love that about you, $name."@@ You give a quiet laugh and rub the back of your neck. @@.player;"I guess that hasn't changed."@@ @@.girl;"It's not a bad thing, you know,"@@ your mom states. She lifts a caterpillar plush and hugs it once. @@.girl;"It's kind of nice, seeing you let yourself like something."@@ Her voice lowers just a little. @@.girl;"It really does feel like I'm learning more about who you are today. And I like that. I really do."@@ You don't say anything at first, but your heart tugs a bit. @@.player;"Thanks, Mom,"@@ you say, and you mean it. You turn toward a low display of plushies shaped like loaves of bread—each with little sleepy faces embroidered into the crust. Your mom trails behind you, still scanning the shelves, clearly more amused than she expected to be. @@.girl;"So, what's the plan?"@@ she asks. @@.girl;"Are you looking for someone small for your desk, or are we going full emotional-support burrito?"@@ <<button "Point out a plushie you used to have as a kid" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18momplushieq to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momplushieq" "Point out a plushie you used to have as a kid" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask your Mom what plushie she would want" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18momplushieq to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momplushieq" "Ask your Mom what plushie she would want" "story">><</button>> <<button "Admit you prefer smaller plushies" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18momplushieq to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momplushieq" "Admit you prefer smaller plushies" "story">><</button>> <<button "Admit you prefer larger plushies" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18momplushieq to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momplushieq" "Admit you prefer larger plushies" "story">><</button>>

<<if $top is 69 and $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $top to 0>>\ <<elseif $pants is 69 and $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <</if>>\ <<paperdoll>> <<button "Fancy Black Dress">>\<<set $top to 69>>\<<set $pants to 69>>\<<set $outfit to 4>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Symmetry Shirt">>\<<set $top to 14>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Black and White Checkered Top">>\<<set $top to 16>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Cream Top">>\<<set $top to 18>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Cream Top 2">>\<<set $top to 20>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Black Slit Skirt">>\<<set $pants to 13>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Baggy Jeans">>\<<set $pants to 15>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Finish trying on clothes" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom NovaTrend 2">><</button>>

$money USD left. <<if $outfitUnlock[4] isnot true and $money > 29>>\ <<button "Fancy Black Dress - 40 USD">>\<<set $outfitUnlock[4] to true>>\<<set $money -= 40>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[14] isnot true and $money > 19>>\ <<button "Symmetry Shirt - 20 USD">>\<<set $topUnlock[14] to true>><<set $money -= 20>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[16] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Black and White Checkered Top - 20 USD">>\<<set $topUnlock[16] to true>><<set $money -= 20>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[18] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Cream Top - 20 USD">>\<<set $topUnlock[18] to true>><<set $money -= 20>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[20] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Cream Top 2 - 20 USD">>\<<set $topUnlock[20] to true>><<set $money -= 20>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[13] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Black Slit Skirt - 20 USD">>\<<set $pantsUnlock[13] to true>><<set $money -= 20>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $pantsUnlock[15] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Baggy Jeans - 20 USD">>\<<set $pantsUnlock[15] to true>><<set $money -= 20>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Finish purchasing what you want" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom NovaTrend 4">><</button>>

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ The bag swings softly at your side, the glossy NovaTrend logo catching the light of the mall's ceiling as you step out of the store. It's not heavy, but it feels full. Full of something real. Something you picked because it made you feel more you. Your mom walks beside you, smiling gently but not saying much—like she doesn't want to shatter the quiet little joy blooming inside you. She doesn't //need// to say anything. You know she saw your face when you stepped out of the fitting room. The glow you tried (and failed) to play off. You glance down at the bag and smile again. Still quiet. Still giddy. Not like it changes everything. Just... makes it all feel a little closer. A little truer. Your reflection in the store window you pass doesn't feel like a stranger. It's not perfect, but it's definitely not wrong, either. It's a version of you that you want to get to know better. Your mom gently rubs your shoulder. @@.girl;"Feel good about it?"@@ she asks. You nod, letting out a soft breath. @@.player;"Yeah. I really do."@@ She just smiles. You walk a little taller after that. Still nervous. But proud. Like maybe—finally—you've taken a step not toward someone you're supposed to be, but toward someone you already are. <<else>>\ You step out of NovaTrend holding the bag a little awkwardly, like you're not sure whether to treat it like a prize or a massive mistake. The clothes inside are folded perfectly, the receipt tucked neatly at the bottom. The store associate smiled as they handed it to you, told you to enjoy it, and to come back anytime. They meant it. You could tell. But the moment the door closed behind you, you felt something inside you unraveling at the edges. Your mom walks beside you, glancing over once or twice. She doesn't say anything. Maybe she senses it—that weird weight sitting in your chest, light and dull at the same time. The mall feels brighter now, somehow more exposed. You try not to think about what the clothes will look like on you again once you're home. Will they feel strange? Too much or not enough? You don't really have any regret, but there //is// uncertainty. Like you bought something for someone you might be. That's the part that makes your throat feel tight. You just don't know. Your mom finally breaks the silence. @@.girl;"You did okay in there,"@@ she says. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur, forcing a smile. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp to true>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ NovaTrend is one of those stores that somehow manages to look expensive just by existing. Before you even step inside, you can feel it—glass storefront spotless and edged with sleek black trim, the mannequins styled like they're headed to a photoshoot, and a pleasant scent that somehow wafts out every time the door opens. Everything's curated, intentional, and cool without trying too hard. You hesitate at the entrance for a half-second, but your mom gives you a quiet nudge forward. @@.girl;"Go on, $name,"@@ she says, half-smiling. @@.girl;"Let's see what the trendy kids are doing these days."@@ Inside, the air is crisp but cozy, with a faint scent of fresh linen and something vaguely fruity. The lighting is warm and layered, glowing from sconces on the wall and spotlights above. It makes the clothes feel lit from within. Racks curve through the space in gentle arcs, showing off cute halter tops, crop cardigans, and mid-rise skirts in soft fabrics. It's definitely trendy, and feels young. Your mom steps in beside you, eyeing a rack of tops. @@.girl;"Okay, this one's way more fun than I expected,"@@ she says, tilting her head. @@.girl;"Not bad."@@ You nod, eyes darting between the walls. It's already a little overwhelming—not in a bad way, but just because you don't know where to even begin. A sales associate appears a few seconds later with an effortless bounce that suggests they've worn every piece in the store twice already. Their name tag reads "Elle (they/them)" and they catch the hesitation in your body language instantly. @@.girl;"No worries, I got you,"@@ they say, already turning toward one of the central racks. @@.girl;"You just hang tight for a sec."@@ You blink, unsure whether to be grateful or nervous, as they start pulling a handful of pieces from different parts of the store. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ Elle says, holding the stack of outfits like a proud offering. @@.girl;"Mix of easy layers, soft colors, fun silhouettes. Try what you like, skip what you don't. There's no pressure whatsoever."@@ They gesture toward a short hallway along the side of the store. @@.girl;"Fitting rooms are this way. Got one open for you already."@@ You glance toward your mom, who gives you an encouraging nod from where she's still browsing. With a small breath, you follow Elle through the rows of clothing and step past a beige curtain into a softly lit changing room. The mirror is clean, the lighting kind, and the bench even has a little throw blanket on it. Elle sets the outfits on the wall hooks before turning you with a little wink. @@.girl;"You've got this. Take your time."@@ Then they slip out and draw the curtain closed behind them. <<button "Try outfits on" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom NovaTrend 1">><</button>>

<<if $d18trygoth is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "GothOutfit">>\ <<if $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $tempshoes to $shoes>>\ <<set $outfit to 5>>\ <<set $shoes to 9>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 6>>\ You pause with your hand hovering over the hanger. Your fingers brush the lace edging, and something in your chest gives the tiniest tug. Maybe it's curiosity. Maybe it's a challenge. Maybe it's that voice that whispers "what if" before you can shut it down. You glance up at the goth girl. She's still watching, arms crossed and hips cocked like she's got all the time in the world. There's no smirk though, just quiet expectation. You swallow. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'll try it."@@ Her face lights up—not in excitement, exactly, but satisfaction. @@.girl;"Knew it,"@@ she mutters. Then she hands over the hanger. The outfit feels heavier in your hands now that it belongs to you, even temporarily. You glance toward the fitting rooms, then back at your mom—still waiting just outside the store entrance, pretending not to be hovering. She catches your eye and raises her brows. You don't say anything, opting to turn and walk toward the fitting rooms. Inside, the space is narrow and dim, with a single full-length mirror and a flickering overhead light that hums softly like it's judging you. You hang the outfit carefully, then start to change. The dress fits better than it has any right to. It slips over your shoulders and hugs your frame without clinging. The off-shoulder neckline brushes against your collarbones. The chain belt clicks softly as you tighten it, and when you step into the combat boots, you actually feel //taller//. Not just literally, but figuratively as well. You turn to face the mirror. <<set $shatterboxCG to true>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhairtie to $hairtie>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_Shatterbox">>\ For a second, you freeze. You barely recognize yourself. But not in a bad way. The person looking back at you fits into the moment. The black lace, the boots, the slightly chaotic layering of softness and sharpness—it all just makes sense in a weird way. You tilt your head. Maybe this isn't how you'd dress every day, but in this moment, you think you look pretty damn good. From outside the curtain, the attendant's voice cuts through: @@.girl;"So?"@@ You take one more glance at the mirror before responding. @@.player;"I can't lie, it's kind of awesome,"@@ you call back, a little breathless. You hear a satisfied hum. @@.girl;"Told you."@@ <<button "Step outside" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom ShatterBox 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ You hesitate. Your fingers almost reach for the dress, for the weight of it, for the weird little thrill that hit your chest when she said it looked like it was meant for you—but then your hand drops back to your side. You shake your head, offering a polite smile. @@.player;"I don't think it's really my thing."@@ The girl pauses. Her smirk fades—not into disappointment, exactly, but it's clear that she //is// mildly bummed. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, letting the dress hanger fall back against the rack with a soft //clack//. @@.girl;"No pressure. You don't have to want it."@@ She leans one elbow against a mannequin's base. @@.girl;"Sometimes it just takes a minute. Or a few years. Or never. Doesn't matter. The look'll still be here if you ever change your mind."@@ You give a little shrug and a quiet @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ before stepping back toward the front of the store. She doesn't follow you, doesn't hound you or try to sell anything else. Just calls out behind you with an edge of dry humor, @@.girl;"Hope you find what you're looking for. Or at least something that doesn't totally suck."@@ You step out of ShatterBox, the mall's neutral lighting instantly making everything feel a little more normal again. The heavy music and black-on-black aesthetic are behind you now. Your mom is waiting just a few feet away, standing near a potted plant that definitely hasn't seen natural light in a few decades. She straightens when she sees you. @@.girl;"Well?"@@ she asks, her tone light but curious. @@.girl;"Find anything?"@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"They had this one outfit. It was... kind of intense."@@ She raises a brow. @@.girl;"$name, the whole store looked intense. I just had to step out, it felt like I was going to get judged by a rack of mesh tops."@@ You let out a quiet laugh. @@.player;"It was definitely a vibe."@@ @@.girl;"Mhm,"@@ she murmurs. @@.girl;"I get it though, that kind of place probably feels really right for some people. Just... not everyone. And that's fine. You don't have to force yourself into something just because it's bold or different."@@ You nod. She starts walking again with you beside her. After a few steps, she adds, more offhandedly, @@.girl;"Although those boots //did// look like they could survive just about anything. I kind of respect that."@@ You glance sideways at her. @@.player;"Are you thinking of getting a pair, Mom?"@@ She gives you a flat look. @@.girl;"Please. My ankles wouldn't make it ten feet."@@ Your mom doesn't pry or lecture, she's just... here. Like always. And you keep walking. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ You take a steadying breath, one hand gripping the curtain, the other resting lightly on your hip—the chain belt cool against your fingers. You can feel your heart thudding, not from nerves, but from something more electric. Then you step out. The boots land with a soft //thunk// against the concrete, and you lift your chin instinctively. You expect to feel self-conscious, but the moment you see your reflection again, something inside you settles. You really do look... incredible. Somehow, the whole thing feels like it was made for this version of you. Not someone you're pretending to be. Just... you. The salesgirl leans against the wall, arms crossed, a smug grin tugging at her mouth. @@.girl;"Okay, yeah. I was right. You look killer."@@ You blink, then laugh. @@.player;"I kinda love it."@@ Your mom looks up from where she'd been scrolling on her phone, and the expression that crosses her face is hard to pin down—surprise, maybe. But also warmth. Not confusion or disapproval, just complicated pride. @@.girl;"You wear that like you've been waiting for it, huh?"@@ she says, tilting her head. You feel your cheeks heat, but you don't shrink away. If anything, you stand a little taller. @@.player;"Maybe I have,"@@ you say. <<else>>\ You push the curtain open slowly, stepping out into the soft light of the shop, arms folded tightly over your chest. The boots thud as you walk, and the dress sways a little more than you're comfortable with. You try to walk normally, to not overthink how the belt rests on your hips or how much shoulder the neckline shows. You glance at the mirror. And... yeah. It fits. Technically. The look is bold, sure. But it feels like you're wearing someone else's skin. Like you're trying to pull off a part in a play you never auditioned for. You don't //hate// it—but standing there, you feel like everyone's looking at you. Even if they aren't. The employee lets out a long, approving whistle. @@.girl;"Okay, wow. Didn't think you'd actually commit. But yeah, it looks good on you. Edgy but clean."@@ You give a tight-lipped smile, fidgeting with the edge of the sleeve. @@.player;"I mean it //is// cool. I'm just not sure if it fits me."@@ Your mom looks up from her phone and blinks, clearly surprised—but not in a bad way. Just... processing. She stands, eyes scanning you from top to bottom. @@.girl;"You look nice,"@@ she says, careful with her tone. @@.girl;"It's a little different, but it doesn't look bad. Just takes some getting used to."@@ You nod, unsure what else to say. You look back at the mirror. You don't hate what you see. But you're not sure if it's a door you're ready to walk through—or one you're afraid of closing. Still... maybe trying it was the point. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom ShatterBox 3">><</button>>

<<if $d18buygoth is true>>\ <<set $outfitUnlock[5] to true>>\ <<set $money -= 50>>\ You stare at yourself a moment longer in the mirror. This outfit is ''not'' subtle, but there's an edge to the whole thing that doesn't make it feel like you're just dressing up. You don't look like someone else. You look like a version of yourself you didn't know you could meet in the mirror. The salesgirl's still waiting for you, arms folded, head tilted slightly. Her eyeliner is still sharp enough to wound, but her expression is softer now—less smug, more curious. You exhale, almost like you're admitting something. @@.player;"I'll take it."@@ For a second, she just blinks. Then her smirk returns, slow and satisfied. @@.girl;"Hell yeah,"@@ she mutters under her breath. @@.girl;"I knew it."@@ You step forward and every piece of the outfit is still on you as you reach the counter, and she doesn't ask you to take it off. @@.girl;"Look, normally I'm not supposed to ring people up while they're wearing the product,"@@ she says, unlocking the register. @@.girl;"But for this look? We're gonna make an exception. The vibes are too strong."@@ She types in a few things, taps the screen, and when the total flashes across the monitor, she just says, @@.girl;"Fifty even. Told you—complete corporate error. One of the only times late-stage capitalism does something right."@@ You tap your phone against the reader without hesitating. Behind you, your mom raises her eyebrows just a bit, lips pressed into a line that's almost a smile. @@.girl;"You sure?"@@ she asks, giving you one more chance to back out. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you respond, nodding. @@.player;"I'm sure."@@ The girl hands you the receipt. @@.girl;"Just wear it out,"@@ she says, almost reverently. @@.girl;"It deserves to be seen."@@ You walk toward the exit—still wearing the whole outfit—and your mom falls into step beside you. She doesn't say anything right away, opting to just look at you for a long second. @@.girl;"You really like it,"@@ she says. You nod, quieter now. @@.player;"I do."@@ @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ your mom responds, smiling softly. @@.girl;"Then let's go show it off a little."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ You look at yourself in the mirror one last time. It's weird, how good it fits. How well it works. It's like the outfit is trying to say something you haven't quite put into words yet. But still... you hesitate. Not because it's bad. Not because it looks wrong. But because something in your chest pulls back a little. It's like you're on a stage with everyone looking at you—and you realize you're not quite ready to speak. The salesgirl watches you in the mirror, her expression neutral now. Not disappointed or impatient, just... quiet. Like she's been here before. You take a deep breath. @@.player;"I think I'm gonna pass."@@ @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she responds, not even blinking. @@.girl;"Figured I'd ask. You looked like you were thinking about it."@@ @@.player;"Well, I was,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"It's just... I don't know if it's //me//. Not yet."@@ She nods once, and if there's any judgment, she hides it well. @@.girl;"That's fair."@@ When you change back into your regular clothes, they feel heavier, somehow. Or maybe you're just more aware of how neutral they are. How //safe//. As you exit the fitting room with the outfit neatly draped over one arm, she takes it back without a word and returns it to its hidden perch near the mannequins. Your mom is waiting by the exit again, arms folded. You can't quite read her expression, it's neither proud nor puzzled. Just curious. She raises her eyebrows as you approach. @@.girl;"Not the one?"@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"Cool look. Just... not today, I guess."@@ The salesgirl calls out behind you as you step through the threshold: @@.girl;"No shame in waiting 'til you're ready. Just don't wait forever."@@ You don't answer. You're already walking back into the brighter part of the mall, where the lights are too harsh and the music's too cheerful. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp1 to true>>\ ShatterBox has the energy of a haunted house that was repurposed into a fashion boutique. The walls are painted matte black with purple LED strips coiling around shelves like digital vines. Posters of alternative bands, cryptic album cover art, and glitchy horror hang at aggressive angles. The music pulses with slow, heavy basslines, and the mannequins all look like they'd rather hex you than sell you something. You step in, and your mom gives you a strange glance. She doesn't say anything though—she's smart enough to know this place speaks a language she doesn't. She lingers near the door as you start browsing. A few items hang in scattered order—lots of mesh, studs, chains, and cryptic black tees. Most of the price tags are either marked "Display Only" or tagged with "Coming Soon" stickers. That's when you hear boots clomp out from behind a curtain near the back. The sales associate rounds the corner with the aura of someone who has metal as their alarm clock and judges your soul by your eyeliner symmetry. She's wearing black lipstick, a lace-up corset over a shredded band tee, and a pendant shaped like a moon that's the size of a toddler. Her eyes narrow rather playfully. @@.girl;"You look like you're either curious or about to make a life-changing mistake,"@@ she says, voice flat. @@.girl;"Both are welcome here.."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Uh—just browsing?"@@ She snorts. @@.girl;"Sure. That's what they all say."@@ She walks toward you, the silver chains on her combat boots clinking softly against the concrete floor. @@.girl;"You've got that 'what would happen if I wore something that matches my soul' energy. If you get what I mean."@@ You start to laugh, but she's already walking, gesturing for you to follow. @@.girl;"Look, our whole system glitched last week,"@@ she says over her shoulder, weaving between racks of fishnets and distressed hoodies. @@.girl;"Classic cursed technology. Half our stock's stuck in inventory purgatory. We're only allowed to sell what physically survived the purge."@@ She stops dramatically, and then reaches behind a mannequin. @@.girl;"And that's this,"@@ she says, pulling out a single hanger like it's a ceremonial weapon. It's a full outfit. Jet-black off-shoulder dress with a lace trim. There's a fitted belt with a little heart-shaped ring at the center. Attached to the hanger are fishnet tights, and dangling between the hem, a pair of heavy-soled combat boots with chrome buckles that look like they could crush a soda can, your self-esteem, and maybe even you in one stomp. @@.girl;"This one made it through,"@@ she says, letting the hanger swing between you like a pendulum. @@.girl;"Wrong tag, flagged for discard, but I marked it as a display item so I could keep it on hand. Only reason it's not sold already is because no one's had the vibe for it."@@ She eyes you again, her smile widening just slightly. @@.girl;"But you do."@@ You feel your face heat. The girl flips the hanger in her hand and nods toward the fitting rooms. @@.girl;"Try it. Or don't. But if you don't, I guarantee some watered-down TikTok goth wannabe is gonna wander in later and ruin its potential."@@ She tosses you a wink, like this is a test you didn't know you were taking—but might actually want to pass. Your fingers brush the fabric, and for a moment, you wonder what it'd be like to be a version of yourself that would want to wear something like this. She raises an eyebrow. @@.girl;"Well? The fitting room's open and the mirror doesn't bite."@@ <<button "Try it on" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom ShatterBox 1">>\<<set $d18trygoth to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_trygoth" "Try it on" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide against wearing it" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom ShatterBox 1">>\<<set $d18trygoth to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_trygoth" "Decide against wearing it" "story">><</button>>

<<paperdoll>> <<button "White Sneakers">>\<<set $shoes to 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Black Flats">>\<<set $shoes to 3>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "White Flats">>\<<set $shoes to 4>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Brown Flats">>\<<set $shoes to 5>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Butterfly Sneakers">>\<<set $shoes to 7>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Orange Sneakers">>\<<set $shoes to 8>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Finish trying on shoes" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom StepUp 2">><</button>>

<<set $shoeUnlock to []>> <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ You ease off the shoe you just tried on, placing it on the bench. @@.girl;"You done?"@@ your mom asks. You nod, a little breathless. @@.player;"I think so, yeah."@@ Before either of you can stand, a nearby sales associate—crew cut, store polo, clipboard tucked under one arm—spots you from the register and walks over with a practiced polite smile. @@.boy;"Trying a few options today?"@@ he asks, glancing at the small lineup of shoes you'd tried. @@.boy;"I can give you the pricing if that helps."@@ @@.player;"Sure, that'd be helpful,"@@ you respond, bracing yourself. @@.boy;"Alright,"@@ he says smoothly. @@.boy;"So the one with the butterflies is a designer collab and limited edition. They won't be around for long and are real popular right now. They're 40 dollars."@@ He gestures to the sleek, fiery pair of trainers. @@.boy;"Those red-orange ones are high-performance with breathable mesh and sports tech, if you're the active type. 30 dollars."@@ Then his gaze shifts to the row of slip-ons. @@.boy;"All the SomaSoft flats—white, black, brown—are pretty cheap. All three are only 15 dollars. Everyday wear, casual, real comfortable."@@ Finally, he taps the simple white low-tops. @@.boy;"And these are super versatile and have been flying off the shelves lately. 20 dollars."@@ He gives you a pleasant smile and folds his hands behind his back. @@.boy;"Take your time. I can box up whatever you want in your size."@@ <<button "Choose some shoes to get" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom StepUp 3">><</button>>

$money USD left. <<if $shoeUnlock[2] isnot true and $money > 19>>\ <<button "White Sneakers - 20 USD">>\<<set $shoeUnlock[2] to true>>\<<set $money -= 20>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $shoeUnlock[3] isnot true and $money > 14>>\ <<button "Flats - 15 USD">>\<<set $shoeUnlock[3] to true>>\<<set $shoeUnlock[4] to true>>\<<set $shoeUnlock[5] to true>>\<<set $money -= 15>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $shoeUnlock[7] isnot true and $money > 39>>\ <<button "Butterfly Sneakers - 40 USD">>\<<set $shoeUnlock[7] to true>>\<<set $money -= 40>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $shoeUnlock[8] isnot true and $money > 29>>\ <<button "Orange Sneakers - 30 USD">>\<<set $shoeUnlock[8] to true>>\<<set $money -= 30>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Purchase" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom StepUp 4">><</button>>

<<set $temp4 to true>>\ <<set $tempshoes to $shoes>>\ The soft mall air changes the moment you step through the wide entrance of StepUp Footwear, the busiest shoe store in this city. The store smells like faux leather, carpet cleaner, and sneaker spray. It's lit by rows of overhead lights that give the place a polished vibe. Your mom follows behind you, letting you take the lead. A sales associate in a polo with the ''Vektix'' logo—an angular swoosh—nods at you with a smile. The store is split into zones for every type of shoe: athletic shoes, clean everyday sneakers, and a section with simple, flat shoes. You wander over, drawn in by the variety. You see the ''Vektix BreezeAir Lows''. They're crisp white sneakers featuring delicate butterfly patterns along the sides. They're lightweight and surprisingly sleek, while being flashy enough to catch attention. Your mom raises her brows slightly. @@.girl;"Those are cute,"@@ she says. The next are the ''Vektix SwiftCharge Trainers''. These look like speed incarnate. The soles have a jagged design in hot pink, with red and orange laces. They're made for movement, maybe for someone who's always in a rush. The tag says: "Advanced Flex Support + NeonGrip Tech" They look cool. Definitely a little loud, but maybe that's the point. Then, there are three flats from ''SomaSoft''. They're simple, clean, and have no branding. They're in white, black, and brown. @@.girl;"These would go with almost anything,"@@ your mom comments. @@.girl;"You've been wearing those Converses nearly every day."@@ You sigh. Finally, tucked near the end of the display, you notice a clean, minimal pair of ''SeraForm Streetlace Lights''. They're all white with a sleek low-top profile and a matte finish. They don't scream for attention. They're not decorated or trendy, but they are sharp. @@.girl;"Those are really versatile,"@@ your mom says, catching the way you're eyeing them. You glance between the styles, the soft music of the store humming behind you. Your mom doesn't rush you. Just stands nearby, hands folded and her expression one of quiet pride. <<button "Try on the shoes" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom StepUp 1">><</button>>

<<if $temp6 is true>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ You let your fingers trail along the edge of a rack before circling back to the display that caught your eye for a few minutes. There's something oddly comforting about how messy and real it feels in this space—like it's not about fitting in, but rather about picking what makes you smile when you look in the mirror. There's one bold pink shirt with an over-the-top anime girl with the words "GAME OVER YOU LOSE" plastered behind her. Another one with a cone full of cartoon guinea pigs nestled in scoops like ice cream. And then there's the hoodie. Muted brown sleeves with a butterfly stretched across the chest in soft orange and black lines. It's comfy just holding it, like the kind of thing you'd throw on before heading out for late-night boba or curling up on the couch after school. The strings are slightly frayed, probably on purpose. You glance over your shoulder and catch your mom watching from near the wall of pins. She gives you a tiny thumbs-up and a smile, and it's clear she's glad you're actually trying things on. The associate nods at you from across the floor. @@.boy;"Fitting rooms are down the hall—second on the right. Ignore the one with the flickering light unless you want to feel like you're in a horror movie."@@ You laugh under your breath and walk toward the changing area, your arms full of weird little choices you're not sure you'd have made even a month ago. The curtain's just ahead, half-pulled back, light spilling from the floor under it. You pause for only a second, and then step forward. <<button "Try on clothes" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Threadz 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ You run your fingers along the edge of a folded shirt that says "Half Human, Half Anxiety" in bold, warped lettering. it's nice, and for a second, you imagine how it might look on you. But your hand falls away. You glance toward the fitting rooms, then toward your mom, who's pretending not to watch you too closely. You don't step forward or pick anything up. Instead, you just kind of... hover. There's nothing wrong with the clothes. They're cool. Expressive. You even //like// a lot of them. But something stops you. It's not for you. Not right now. You turn to your mom. @@.player;"I think I'm good."@@ @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she states. As you both head toward the exit, the static of the store fades behind you—replaced by the smooth hum of the mall. Your hands are empty, and that's fine. Maybe today wasn't about trying to be something loud. Maybe you're still figuring it out for yourself. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $pants is 69 and $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <</if>>\ <<paperdoll>> <<button "Pink Graphic Tee">>\<<set $top to 13>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<<trackChoice "D18_top" "Pink Graphic Tee" "customization">><</button>> <<button "Butterfly Hoodie">>\<<set $top to 17>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<<trackChoice "D18_top" "Butterfly Hoodie" "customization">><</button>> <<button "Guinea Pig Shirt">>\<<set $top to 23>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<<trackChoice "D18_top" "Guinea Pig Shirt" "customization">><</button>> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Threadz 3">><</button>>

You tug the curtains shut behind you and shift your weight, glancing down at the shirts draped over your arm. The tiny fitting room mirror is rimmed with chipped stickers—smiley faces, pixel hearts, and a ghost giving a thumbs up. It feels more like a closet than a changing room, but still weirdly comforting. You try the anime girl tee first. The pink practically //shouts// under the overhead light, and the chaotic design is even louder on your chest. For a second, you grimace. But then you realize it... actually kind of works. It's confident in its own strange way, like it knows it's over the top but doesn't care. The guinea pig shirt is next. It's the exact opposite: softer, gentler, warm in tone and even warmer in vibe. You smile without meaning to. It's so dumb. Like, painfully so. But you like it. Then the hoodie. It slides on like it's already yours. Oversized, but not in a bad way. The butterfly rests right over your heart, and something about it makes you pause. You pull the hood up for a second and glance in the mirror. You look like someone you might be okay being. You hear a knock at the wall. @@.boy;"All good in there?"@@ the sales guy calls. @@.boy;"Heads-up, by the way—we're doing ten-dollar graphics today. Hoodies, tees, all of it."@@ You blink. @@.player;"All of it?"@@ @@.boy;"Yup,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"Clearance push. Manager's order. It's basically a steal."@@ You glance back at the three items. Only ten bucks each. You could actually get more than one without your wallet screaming. You turn back to the mirror, heart tugging between impulse and logic. <<button "Buy something" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Threadz 4">><</button>>

<<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $outfit to $tempoutfit>>\ $money USD left. <<if $topUnlock[13] isnot true and $money > 9>>\ <<button "Pink Graphic Tee - 10 USD">>\<<set $topUnlock[13] to true>><<set $money -= 10>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[17] isnot true and $money > 9>>\ <<button "Butterfly Hoodie - 10 USD">>\<<set $topUnlock[17] to true>><<set $money -= 10>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $topUnlock[23] isnot true and $money > 9>>\ <<button "Guinea Pig Shirt - 10 USD">>\<<set $topUnlock[23] to true>><<set $money -= 10>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Finish purchasing what you want" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Threadz 5">><</button>>

You step out of the fitting room with the chosen pieces folded over your arm—maybe one, maybe more, depending on what called to you. The blue-haired sales guy is waiting by the counter, leaning on one elbow like he's been tracking your soul-searching graphic tee journey from afar. @@.boy;"I think you'll look good in those,"@@ he says casually, ringing everything up. @@.boy;"Like a main character."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"That's... a weird compliment. But thanks."@@ Once you've paid, you head out of the store with your mom. The plastic Threadz bag crinkles softly at your side. @@.girl;"You're getting more new clothes today than you've gotten in the past year,"@@ she says. You playfully glare at her. @@.player;"Yeah, well. I'm trying not to be the white tee and cargo shorts guy anymore."@@ Her lips twitch in amusement. @@.girl;"You //were// dangerously close to becoming a video game character. Same outfit every day."@@ @@.player;"I had variations,"@@ you say, mock-defensive. @@.girl;"Oh, right. One had a zipper pocket. Very fashion-forward."@@ You roll your eyes, but she's grinning now—and so are you. The moment doesn't feel huge, but it does feel good. After a quiet beat, she adds, @@.girl;"I liked the hoodie, by the way. The butterfly one. It suited you."@@ You nod, a little surprised by how much that matters. @@.player;"Thanks. It felt right."@@ @@.girl;"Good,"@@ your mom states. @@.girl;That's how clothes should feel."@@ You don't say anything else right away. Just glance down at the bag again, the folded fabric inside. Maybe it's dumb, but there's something about it that feels like yours. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp3 to true>>\ Threadz is ''loud''. Not in a bad way, but in a way that lets you breathe a little. The playlist overhead is pure alt-pop energy, with just enough distortion and synth to make the walls vibrate faintly. The air smells like a mix of new cotton and deodorant, and the lighting makes the space feel like a cozy basement. You step inside and immediately catch sight of a wall covered in vintage-inspired band tees, a few anime graphics, and some cryptic designs that say things like "Emotionally Unavailable" and "I Overthink Therefore I Am." Every shirt looks like it's trying to say something—sometimes clever, sometimes ironic, sometimes a little cringy. Your mom follows behind, glancing around like she's walking into an entirely new world. @@.girl;"Wow,"@@ she mutters, eyeing a shirt that says "UNHINGED BUT TRYING." @@.girl;"These are... bold."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, smirk. @@.player;"It's kinda the vibe."@@ Threadz is half-organized chaos. Shirts are folded into cube shelves by size, while others hang on racks arranged by "aesthetic"—gothic, retro, gamer, whatever that means. A guy your age with dyed blue hair and chipped black nail polish is refolding a display nearby. He gives you a lazy peace sign and says, @@.boy;"Everything's stored by chaos level. Yell if you need a second opinion on existential slogans."@@ You think he's joking. Your mom drifts toward a hoodie that says "Don't talk to me unless you brought snacks." She lifts it with one hand. @@.girl;"...I mean. It's not wrong."@@ @@.player;"Kinda want to try a few on,"@@ you murmur half to yourself. Your mom raises her eyebrows and smiles. @@.girl;"Then go for it. Better than buying blind and hating it later."@@ You glance back at the shelves, the soft chaos of the store humming around you like static you can almost understand. <<button "Try some tops on" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Threadz 1">>\<<set $temp6 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_temp6" "Try some tops on" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide to leave" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom Threadz 1">>\<<set $temp6 to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_temp6" "Decide to leave" "story">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "ShoppingMom">>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ <<if $d18lilyReject is true>>\ You try not to look too deflated as you head down the hallway, hands shoved into your pockets. The music from Lily's room fades behind you. You hesitate, then drift out into the hallway. The laundry room is open, and your mom's there, folding towels with a practiced rhythm. Her back is mostly to you and she hums something soft and aimless, surrounded by warm light and the scent of clean linen. As you lean against the doorframe, she glances over her shoulder, catching sight of you. @@.girl;"Hey, sweetie. How'd it go?"@@ You shrug, trying to sound casual. @@.player;"She said no. Didn't even think about it, just—'not with you.'"@@ Mom pauses, folding the towel in her hands a little slower. @@.girl;"Oh,"@@ she says gently. @@.girl;"I'm sorry."@@ You keep your eyes on the floor. @@.player;"It's fine. Whatever. We haven't really been talking much lately anyway."@@ She gives you a look—one of those looks that sees more than you want her to. You sigh, letting out a tired breath. @@.player;"I just thought... I dunno. I leave for college soon. Figured it might be nice."@@ Your mom steps over, still holding a towel, and places a hand on your shoulder. @@.girl;"You two have time, $name. I know it doesn't always feel like it, but you do. Siblings drift, but they find their way back to each other. It's not always quick, and it's most definitely not always easy. But it ''does'' happen."@@ You nod, not quite trusting yourself to say anything back. She pats your shoulder and flashes a smile. @@.girl;"For now, you've got me. And a mall full of overpriced clothes. Let's go, alright?"@@ You manage a small smile. @@.player;"Yeah. Let's go."@@ @@.girl;"Let me grab my purse,"@@ she says, disappearing down the hall. A few minutes later, she meets you at the front door, keys in hand. @@.girl;"You ready?"@@ she asks, smiling. You nod. And together, you step outside and head toward the car, the mall waiting quietly ahead. <<else>>\ You lie there for a few more minutes, staring at the ceiling like it's going to give you answers. Your mom's words still echo gently in your head. For once, instead of pushing the thought away, you sit up. Your voice comes out quieter than you expected as you call down the hallway. @@.player;"Mom?"@@ There's a pause, then her voice drifts back. @@.girl;"Yeah?"@@ You hesitate, then stand, crossing the room and stepping out into the hallway. She's in the laundry room, folding towels like she always does. Her back is to you, but she turns slightly as you lean against the doorframe. @@.player;"Um... would you maybe wanna go to the mall?"@@ you ask, not quite meeting her eyes. @@.player;"Just to help me find some stuff?"@@ Her hands freeze on a towel, and for a second, she doesn't say anything. You glance up and catch the flicker of surprise on her face—quickly followed by something else. Warmth, maybe even hope. She's excited in a way she's trying very hard to smother beneath a carefully casual expression. @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ she says, a little too quickly. @@.girl;"Yeah, of course. We can do that if you want."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Cool."@@ She smoothes the towel in her hands like it's suddenly become the most interesting object on earth. @@.girl;"I mean, it's been a while since we did anything like that. It might be nice. Could use a break from folding things that aren't mine."@@ She's trying to keep her voice steady and her smile easy, but there's a brightness in her eyes that gives her away. You haven't spent much time with her lately—caught up in the school, the $referto, and everything else. Without even meaning to, you've been keeping her at a distance, and it's clear she's noticed. @@.girl;"Let me grab my purse,"@@ she says, disappearing down the hall with a little more bounce in her step than she probably meant to show. A few minutes later, she meets you at the front door, keys in hand. @@.girl;"You ready?"@@ she asks, smiling. You nod. And together, you step outside and head toward the car, the mall waiting quietly ahead. <</if>>\ <<button "Drive to the mall" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom 1">><</button>>

The car rumbles to life as your mom pulls out of the driveway, tires crunching softly over scattered leaves. The golden California sun filters through the windshield, warm but not hot, casting gentle shadows across the dashboard. Outside, the trees wear their autumn colors proudly—leaves blazing orange and gold, swirling across the pavement with every breeze. You and Lily are in the back seats, your knees bumping occasionally every time the car passes a speed bump. She's already halfway into a rant about her science teacher before you've even made it past the corner. @@.lily;"I //swear// he just makes up half the stuff he says,"@@ she groans, pulling at the sleeves of her hoodie. @@.lily;"Like, he told us that static electricity could technically make your hair explode. What does that even mean?"@@ @@.player;"Hmm, that honestly sounds like a valuable life lesson,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.player;"I think you should test it. For science, of course."@@ Lily glares at you. @@.lily;"Yeah, $name. Let me just go rub a balloon on my head and stand next to a power line."@@ @@.player;"I'll bring the balloon,"@@ you offer, a wide grin on your face. From the front seat, your mom glances at the rearview mirror with a fond smile. @@.girl;"Please don't explode your sister's hair. At least not today."@@ @@.player;"You're no fun,"@@ you mutter. @@.girl;"Correct,"@@ she replies. @@.girl;"That's how I survive parenting."@@ Lily smirks and leans against the window. You're glad she came. The banter feels easy for once—like things are still a little tangled between you, but not impossible. Not today. The car passes by rows of houses and dry lawns scattered with leaves, the breeze flickering through slightly cracked windows. You watch the sunlight dance through the interior as the road hums beneath you. You glance at Lily, then at your mom, and think about where to steer the conversation next. <<button "Bring up that one time Lily got lost" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 2">>\<<set $d18lilyquestion to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_lilyquestion" "Bring up that one time Lily got lost" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask if they also feel like time's moving way too fast" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 2">>\<<set $d18lilyquestion to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_lilyquestion" "Ask if they also feel like time's moving way too fast" "story">><</button>> <<button "Who would survive the longest in a zombie apocalypse?" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 2">>\<<set $d18lilyquestion to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_lilyquestion" "Who would survive the longest in a zombie apocalypse?" "story">><</button>>

<<set $bra to $d18bra>>\ <<set $topoff to false>>\ <<set $showbra to true>>\ <<set $braunlock to []>> <<if $d18momlilybrastorecompany is 0>>\ <<if $d18bra is 0>>\ <<set $braunlock[0] to true>>\ You take the white bra off the hook, fingers brushing over the fabric. It's soft, smooth, and simple—no frills, no lace, no declarations. Just a clean, gentle garment that feels safe. You turn it over in your hands, feeling its lightness, the subtle elasticity in the band. It doesn't ask much of you. It doesn't demand you know who you are or how you want to be seen. It just exists. It's just neutral. You slip it on slowly and carefully. It hugs your chest like a whisper—present, but barely. Looking at yourself in the window, you almost don't look different. But //you// feel different. Your mom doesn't say anything, but she does give you a smile. You did enough for today. <<elseif $d18bra is 1>>\ <<set $braunlock[1] to true>>\ You hesitate the longest in front of the black one. It's the kind of bra that feels serious, like it belongs to someone confident. You take it off the hook, heart pounding a little, and slowly ease it on. It fits like a second skin—firm but not tight, clean lines, no lace or color to distract. In the mirror, you look sharper. Like someone who made a decision instead of getting swept into one. You breathe out, and it feels like the first full breath you've taken in a while. Your mom tilts her head, looking at you. @@.girl;"You look... grounded."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I guess that's kind of the point."@@ <<elseif $d18bra is 2>>\ <<set $braunlock[2] to true>>\ You reach for the lavender bra, hesitating for a second before lifting it from the hook. It feels light in your hands, the pale purple fabric catching the light. It's a small thing, but it does feels like a choice. You try it on, adjusting the straps slowly. It fits snugly, securely. You glance at yourself in the mirror, and it's still you, just with color. Your mom sees your expression and doesn't say anything for a moment. Then, quietly, @@.girl;"It suits you."@@ You nod, and though your voice barely comes out, it's steady. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, I think so too."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I guess, yeah."@@ <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18bra is 3>>\ <<set $braunlock[3] to true>>\ Your fingers hover over the lacy one for a full ten seconds before you finally take it down. It's delicate. Intricate. The floral patterns are stitched in black thread, the material a little sheer. It's pretty. You're not quite sure //why// you chose it, only that part of you //needs// to. You slip it on slowly, and it feels softer than it should. In that bra, it doesn't look like you're hiding, it looks like you're //being//. Your mom doesn't say anything at first. She watches you for a long moment before her expression softens. @@.girl;"Beautiful,"@@ she comments, nodding. You don't respond right away. You just stare at the mirror, eyes wide, chest rising and falling steadily. @@.player;"...Yeah,"@@ you whisper. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18momlilybrastorecompany is 1>>\ <<if $d18bra is 0>>\ <<set $braunlock[0] to true>>\ You reach for the white bra. It's the most neutral of the bunch—plain, seamless, and soft. The kind of thing you could wear and forget it's even there. No color to read into or message to send, it's just... safe. And safe feels okay right now. You unclip it and slip it on, the band fitting snugly around your ribs. It's gentle. Light. Not restrictive, just present. You glance at your reflection in the mirror and realize your body feels a little more comfortable, like it finally has permission to settle. There's no dramatic revelation or swelling music, just a soft kind of rightness. You breathe out and roll your shoulders. This, you can handle. <<elseif $d18bra is 1>>\ <<set $braunlock[1] to true>>\ Your fingers hover, then curl around the sleek black one. There's something about it—minimal, structured, and just a little bold. You're not sure what exactly draws you to it, but you want it. You try it on. The fabric hugs your chest firmly, but not uncomfortably. The straps feel solid. Supportive. You look at yourself in the mirror and for a second, you seem more grounded. There's a small shift in your spine, a straighter posture, and a breath that comes easier. You didn't expect this, but here you are. <<elseif $d18bra is 2>>\ <<set $braunlock[2] to true>>\ You hesitate over the lavender one. It's soft. Delicate, but not girly. Calm. You hold it up and it feels like something chosen—not just worn. Almost like it's for you. You slip it on. It fits perfectly—gentle and stretchy, not too tight, not too loose. The color is subtle, but undeniably there. You look in the mirror, expecting to feel awkward. But instead, you feel something close to warmth. It's not about standing out, it's about softening into yourself. <<elseif $d18bra is 3>>\ <<set $braunlock[3] to true>>\ Your eyes land on the lacy one. It's delicate. Floral-patterned. Slightly sheer. Something about it feels like stepping off a ledge and trusting the ground will rise up to catch you. You're not even sure why the hell you reach for it. Maybe it's because it scares you a little. Or maybe because it doesn't. You slip it on slowly. The lace settles across your chest. You face the mirror, expecting to feel ridiculous. But you don't. You actually, somehow, feel pretty. For a moment, you stop bracing against yourself. You just exist. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d18bra is 0>>\ <<set $braunlock[0] to true>>\ You take the white bra off the hook, your fingers brushing over the fabric. It's soft—like really soft. Smooth and simple, nothing loud about it. No lace, no patterns, no bright colors or extra straps. Just something clean and neutral, like it was made to //not// make a big deal out of anything. Something that feels... safe. You turn it over in your hands, testing the give of the band, running your thumb along the edge. It's light, barely anything. There's no pressure in it to be anything more than what it is. No frills, no signals. It doesn't ask you to figure anything out, and you're grateful for that. It just exists. Behind you, your mom watches quietly, still giving you space but clearly tuned in. lily is perched on the edge of the bench, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, unusually quiet for her. She's not fidgeting. She's not cracking jokes. She's just waiting. You slip it on slowly, carefully—your first real bra. The band settles around your chest, snug but not tight. The fabric presses against your skin with a kind of softness you didn't expect. It doesn't flatten. It doesn't lift. It just //fits//. You glance at the mirror—not to admire or scrutinize, but just to check. And you almost don't look different at all. The shape is subtle, from a distance, and you might not even notice a change. But you ''feel'' it. And that's the difference. Your mom catches your eyes in the reflection. @@.girl;"How's it feel?"@@ she asks softly. You don't answer right away. You shift a little in place, testing how the straps move with your shoulders, how the band holds when you breathe. @@.player;"Kind of like it's not even there,"@@ you say. She smiles. @@.girl;"That's how you know it's the right one."@@ Lily tilts her head slightly. @@.lily;"You look... like yourself,"@@ she says, a little awkward, like she's still working out the words as they come. @@.lily;"Not, like, 'different $name' or anything. Just... comfy $name. You know?"@@ You glance at her, surprised. She shrugs, like she didn't say something weirdly kind. You look back in the mirror. You don't have answers. You don't need them right now. You did enough for today. <<elseif $d18bra is 1>>\ <<set $braunlock[1] to true>>\ You pause the longest in front of the black one. It hangs from the hook like it knows exactly what it is—clean lines, simple shape, no lace, no decoration. Just fabric and structure. It feels like the kind of bra that belongs to someone who //knows// who they are. Or maybe someone trying to get there. Your heart beats a little faster as you reach for it. The material is smooth but firm in your hands, the band holding a quiet confidence you don't quiet feel yet. Still, you step into it, ease the straps over your shoulders, and adjust it slowly. It fits like a second skin. Secure. Not restrictive, just present. It doesn't push or shape much, but it //holds//. In the mirror, the reflection looking back at you isn't dramatic, but it's... different. Cleaner and sharper. You look like someone who chose something, not just someone caught in something. You breathe out, and the breath feels full for the first time in a while. Like your lungs finally had room again. Behind you, your mom watches with quiet focus, and then tilts her head slightly. @@.girl;"You really do look grounded,"@@ she says, her voice soft but certain. @@.girl;"Like you're standing on your own."@@ You blink once, then nod. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I guess that's kind of the point."@@ Lily is still sitting on the bench, her arms draped over her knees. She leans forward a bit, studying you in the mirror like she's trying to see what's changed. @@.lily;"It's kinda cool, honestly,"@@ she says after a beat. @@.lily;"Not saying that you look cool—you don't—but you seem solid. Like you're not flinching."@@ You glance at her, surprised by the honesty. She shrugs, eyes still on the reflection. @@.lily;"I'm just glad that you still look like... you."@@ You meet your eyes in the mirror again. There's no sudden clarity, no grand transformation. But something in your shoulders shifts. Something in your posture settles. You look like someone who made a decision. And for now, that's enough. <<elseif $d18bra is 2>>\ <<set $braunlock[2] to true>>\ You reach for the lavender bra—the softest shade of purple—hesitating as your fingers close around the fabric. It feels light, almost delicate, yet surprisingly real. You remember how lavender's always been your favorite color. In this moment, it feels like something more than just a color—something personal. You slide it over your head and adjust the straps slowly. The band settles comfortably around your ribcage, secure but not tight. You take a break and face the mirror. You're still you—no drastic change in shape, no dramatic shift—but there's color now. A little bit of your personality woven into something basic, something intimate. It's a small thing, but it truly feels like //yours//. Your mom watches you for a long second before speaking. Her smile is quiet but sincere. @@.girl;"It suits you,"@@ she says gently. You nod, voice soft but steady. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"I think so too."@@ From the bench, Lily leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees. She's not full of her usual fire, instead watching like you're somebody she genuinely wants to support, not tease. @@.lily;"Lavender, huh?"@@ she says, a spark in her eyes. @@.lily;"Bold choice. I mean... it's your favorite. I remember your middle school backpack. Makes sense."@@ Your mom steps closer, smoothing a wrinkle on your bra. @@.girl;"It looks comfortable. //You// look comfortable. If this feels good, then let's take it."@@ Lily flexes her arms. @@.lily;"I vote yes. Lavender for the win."@@ Although it's just a color, it feels like so much more to you. <<elseif $d18bra is 3>>\ <<set $braunlock[3] to true>>\ Your fingers hover over the lacy one for a long moment—long enough for Lily to notice. She tilts her head, brows raised slightly but not saying anything. The bra is delicate, black floral stitching over sheer fabric, the kind of thing that looks like it belongs in a magazine. It really is pretty. And not in a soft, quiet way like the lavender one. This is a different kind of pretty. Sharper. Braver. You take it down slowly, the lace catching slightly on your fingertips. You're not sure why you picked it up. You just know something in your chest tugged when you saw it, like a quiet little voice saying, //this one//. You slip it on, careful with the straps. It's surprisingly soft against your skin, nothing scratchy or stiff like you expected. It hugs you differently—still gentle, but more revealing. In this bra, you don't look like someone trying to disappear. You look like someone who's not only existing, but ''choosing''. You glance at the mirror, heart knocking unevenly in your chest. Your mom doesn't speak right away, just watches. Then, slowly, her expression softens and she nods, her voice quiet. @@.girl;"Beautiful."@@ You blink. It doesn't sound like flattery. It just sounds true. Lily, still seated on the bench, squints a little like she's processing the moment. @@.lily;"Okay, I did //not// think you'd go for the lace,"@@ she says honestly, but without judgment. @@.lily;"Kinda thought you'd grab a plain black one."@@ You glance her way. @@.lily;"But—"@@ she shrugs a little. @@.lily;"It actually fits. Like, not just size-wise. You look... confident. I don't know. It just works."@@ You meet your own eyes in the mirror, the breathe in your chest slow and steady. You almost don't recognize the person looking back, but at the same time, you //do//. @@.player;"...Yeah,"@@ you whisper, your voice barely there. And this time, you mean it. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Bra shopping begone!" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 11">><</button>>

<<set $showbra to false>>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<if $d18bringlilybra is true>>\ You step out of the fitting room slowly, your top now pulled over the bra you chose. The fabric settles against your skin in a way that still feels unfamiliar—gentle but present. It's strange how something so small can feel so ''defining''. Your mom catches your eyes as you step into the main part of the store. She doesn't gush or fawn, just offers a warm smile—quietly proud, but careful not to overwhelm you. @@.girl;"That's the one?"@@ she asks, voice low enough that it could be mistaken for a whisper. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. It comes out steadier than you expected. Lily is still nearby. She stands now, arms crossed loosely over her chest. She eyes you for a second, then nods with a grin that's small, but definitely there. @@.lily;"You don't look freaked out,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"That's... probably a good sign."@@ You huff out a quiet laugh. @@.player;"I was //definitely// freaked out."@@ @@.lily;"Sure,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"But you didn't //look// it. You look... like you."@@ She doesn't say anything else, but her words land heavy in the good kind of way. Your mom steps up, gently takes the tag from your hand, and heads toward the counter. Riley is already behind it, hands folded neatly, her posture easy and unbothered. There's no side glance, no hesitance. Just a simple nod and the soft beep of the scanner as she rings it up. @@.girl;"Appreciate your help,"@@ your mom says warmly as she pulls out her card. @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ Riley replies, giving a nod before turning to you. @@.girl;"You made a great choice. First times can feel weird—I get that—but you handled it very well."@@ You shift on your feet a little, unsure where to put the compliment. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur, rubbing your palm against the back of your arm. Your mom gives a final thank-you before turning back to you and Lily. @@.girl;"Ready?"@@ You nod. Lily gives a thumbs-up that's only slightly awkward, like she wants to fist-bump you, but isn't sure if this is the moment for that. As the three of you walk out of the store together, the bell above the door gives a bright little chime. Outside, the mall feels different somehow. Not any louder or busier—just a little brighter. Maybe you are too. <<else>>\ You step out of the fitting room, now wearing your top over the bra you chose, the fabric soft and unfamiliar against your skin. It's strange how such a small thing can feel like a milestone. Like a line you didn't know you were ready to cross until you were already standing on the other side of it. Your mom smiles at you—warm, proud, but not overdoing it. She knows better than to make this moment bigger than you're ready for. @@.girl;"That's the one?"@@ she asks. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, nodding. She takes it from you with a gentle hand and heads to the counter while you hang back. Riley is already there waiting, hands resting on the counter. She doesn't ask questions or give any weird looks, just rings it up with a practiced ease. Your mom pays without hesitation. @@.girl;"I appreciate your help,"@@ she tells Riley. @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ Riley replies with a sincere smile. She then turns to you. @@.girl;"You made a great choice. First times can feel weird, I know, but you handled it really well."@@ You shift slightly, not quite sure what to do with the compliment. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you manage. @@.girl;"Take your time figuring out what fits,"@@ she adds. @@.girl;"Not just the size, but everything. You'll know when something's right."@@ You nod again, eyes lowering slightly. There's something soft in your chest, something that almost feels like relief. Your mom takes the bag, and you both turn to head out. The bell above the door chimes as you step into the mall again. The world feels a little brighter than when you first walked in. <</if>>\ <<button "Bra acquired" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 12">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> <<if $d18bringlilybra is true>>\ As the three of you step back into the wider mall from the bra store, the sounds of chatter and polished footsteps fill in around you again. Lily walks a little ahead at first, like she's trying to pretend this wasn't a big deal. But the bounce in her step gives her away. After a few strides, she slows until she's next to you again. She nudges you lightly with her elbow. @@.lily;"So,"@@ she says, glancing sideways with a smirk just beginning to creep back onto her face, @@.lily;"now that we're officially past the emotionally delicate bonding part, I'm allowed to tease you again, right?"@@ You roll your eyes, but it's not annoyed—more relieved. The energy between you is lighter now, even familiar. @@.lily;"I mean, I //did// see you in a bra,"@@ she continues, hands shoved in her hoodie pockets. @@.lily;"That gives me, like, a whole library of jokes I can make now."@@ Your mom chuckles softly beside you, but doesn't interrupt. She knows better than to get in the middle of whatever this is. You glance at Lily, about to come up with a comeback, but then you see her expression shift slightly—just a flicker of something a little more sincere behind the bravado. @@.lily;"Hey,"@@ she says more quietly now, her voice a little rough around the edges, @@.lily;"I'm glad you let me come. Like... for real."@@ She shrugs, not quiet meeting your eyes. @@.lily;"You didn't have to. But you did. So... thanks. For trusting me."@@ You're not sure what to say at first. But the words settle in your chest like warmth. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Thanks for coming."@@ She lifts her chin, regaining her usual swagger. @@.lily;"Just doing my job as annoying little sister slash emotional support goblin."@@ And with that, she tugs lightly on your sleeve and charges ahead like nothing ever happened. But something did. And she was there for it. <<else>>\ You and your mom make your way back through the mall, weaving past groups of shoppers and the clatter of food court trays until the neon glow of the arcade comes into view. It's loud—flashing lights, electronic jingles, the occasional cheer of someone beating a high school. Lily is easy to spot. She's parked in front of a claw machine, her hoodie sleeves pushed up as she maneuvers the joystick with intense focus. A pair of plush ducks are just barely within reach, their shiny plastic eyes staring out through the scratched glass like they've accepted their fate. She doesn't notice you at first, not until the claw descends, misses by a hair, and thuds back into place with a mechanical sigh. She lets out a soft groan. @@.lily;"Rigged,"@@ she mutters, stepping back from the machine. When she turns and sees you both, she straightens like nothing happened. @@.lily;"Oh, hey,"@@ she says, casual, hands stuffed into her hoodie pocket. @@.lily;"Did that take forever, or was I just in the zone?"@@ Your mom smiles gently. @@.girl;"Not too long."@@ Lily looks you briefly—too briefly—and asks, @@.lily;"Did it go okay?"@@ The words are a breeze, like she's just asking how the weather was. But her eyes flick down for a second—to your chest, to the way your top fits now that something is underneath—and then quickly away again. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. She shrugs, like she doesn't care either way. @@.lily;"Cool. Guess we can keep shopping now."@@ But there's something quiet in her posture—shoulders a little lower than before, arms tucked in closer to her sides. She doesn't say anything more, and neither do you. You follow your mom as she turns back toward the main mall hallway, and Lily walks just a step behind instead of beside you like earlier. It's not a fight. It's not anger. Just distance. And somehow, that feels so much worse. <</if>>\ <<button "Shopping Spree" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 13">><</button>>

<<set $money += 100>>\ <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<set $topUnlock to []>>\ <<set $pantsUnlock to []>>\ <<set $outfitUnlock to []>>\ <<set $shoeUnlock to []>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock to [false]>>\ \ <<if $hairtie is 1 or $currenthairtie is 1>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[1] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 2 or $currenthairtie is 2>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[2] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 3 or $currenthairtie is 3>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[3] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 4 or $currenthairtie is 4>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[4] to true>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $hairacessoriesUnlock to []>>\ The three of you drift back into the main area of the mall, the bright lights ahead casting beams down on polished floors and bustling shoppers. The scent of pretzels and perfume mingles in the air, and somewhere in the distance, a pop song is playing from a storefront speaker. Your mom pulls out her phone, taps a few things, and seconds later your phone buzzes in your pocket. @@.girl;"There,"@@ she says, putting the phone back in her purse. @@.girl;"I just sent you a hundred. You can spend it however you want. Clothes, food, something ridiculous—your call. It's yours."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ @@.girl;"I mean, you just went through a milestone bra moment,"@@ she says, tucking her phone away. @@.girl;"You've earned it, $name."@@ Before you can even process that, Lily spins around to face you, eyes wide with sudden urgency. @@.lily;"Okay, listen, after shopping we absolutely have to check out the anime pop-up near the food court. They've got life-size cutouts, mystery gacha balls, and—"@@ she lowers her voice dramatically—@@.lily;"limited edition photocards. ''Limited. Edition.''"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Since when do you care about photocards?"@@ She scoffs. @@.lily;"I don't—okay, I do. But only because the anime guys are //hot//, and if I pull that one of Kaito in the black jacket, I win. Emotionally. Forever."@@ She folds her arms, dead serious. @@.lily;"This is art, $name. This is culture."@@ Your mom chuckles, shaking her head. @@.girl;"Alright, alright. But first things first—"@@ she looks at you, then glances toward the mall's sprawling second level, lined with glowing signs and eager shoppers. @@.girl;"Where do you want to go first?"@@ Lily's already bouncing on her heels, waiting. The mall is open to you, full of options—and this time, they're yours. ''NovaTrend'' is sleek and filled with plants, like a fashion blog brought to life. There are soft earth tones, cropped jackets, and baggy pants. Every display seems effortless yet curated. ''ShatterBox'' has dark walls, racks of fishnets, studded belts, combat boots, and merchandise from bands you don't even recognize. Mesh sleeves and eyeliner are practically required. ''Blink + Shine'' is so sparkly it's practically vibrating. Hair clips, lip gloss, and enamel pins shaped like raccoons are on display. ''Threadz'' is wall-to-wall graphic tees, oversized hoodies, and anime designs. It smells faintly like body spray and rebellion. ''StepUp Footwear'', a staple of the Crestview Bay mall, has so many shoes it nearly makes you dizzy. ''Cuddle Creations'' has so many adorable stuffed animals that the cuteness might just overwhelm you. Your mom nudges you lightly. @@.girl;"No wrong answers. Just go where your feet pull you."@@ <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ <<set $temp3 to false>>\ <<set $temp4 to false>>\ <<set $temp5 to false>>\ <<button "Head to NovaTrend" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily NovaTrend">><</button>> <<button "Head to ShatterBox" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily ShatterBox">><</button>> <<button "Head to Blink + Shine" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Blink + Shine">><</button>> <<button "Head to Threadz" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Threadz">><</button>> <<button "Head to StepUp Footwear" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily StepUp">><</button>> <<button "Head to Cuddle Creations" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations">><</button>> <<button "Head to the changing rooms" "Closet">><</button>>

<<if $money is 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "BrokeMall">>\ <</if>>\ <img src="img/bg/mall.png"> You find yourself in the heart of the mall again. The buzz of chatter, soft music, and footsteps, but there's a gentle calm that wraps around the three of you. It's like finishing the day's errands have stripped away all the anxiety and replaced it with something softer. @@.girl;"You did great today, $name,"@@ Mom says, voice proud and smile steady. @@.girl;"Really, I'm just so happy to see you shine."@@ You glance down at the small mountain of shopping bags hanging from your arms—different sizes, soft rustling plastic and paper, all packed with pieces that //you// chose. Lily bounces on her toes, pacing in tiny circles beside you. Her energy's electric this close to her target. @@.lily;"Okay, okay, we've shopped your heart out. It's—what?—been hours? My feet are //dying//, but I don't care. The HonShin Zero pop-up is calling, and I am ''not'' letting it go unchallenged."@@ Her hands are on her hips, fierce and unrelenting. @@.girl;"Alright, sweetheart,"@@ Mom says, giving Lily a nudge. @@.girl;"Deep breaths—you'll burst if you don't calm down."@@ @@.lily;"Nope,"@@ Lily states, glaring at her. @@.lily;"No calm until I get those gachapon capsules."@@ She makes grabby gestures in the direction where the stand is. You smile, shaking your head. She's been talking about this all morning—Honshin Zero, that anime gacha game with its hot guys and holographic photocards—for the past few months. And now? There's no stopping her from exploring every inch of the pop-up. @@.girl;"You had a big adventure today, $name,"@@ Mom says, glancing at your shopping bags. @@.girl;"I think one little sister quest wouldn't hurt."@@ Lily puffs up proudly. @@.lily;"It definitely wouldn't!"@@ You look down at her, amused but warmed. @@.player;"Lead the way,"@@ you say. Together, the three of you start walking across the mall, past the fountains and vending machines to where the rising banners and colorful stands herald the pop-up's location. Lily practically hums with energy, skipping ahead, her voice echoing behind you: @@.lily;"Wait 'til you see Kaito. He's //so// hot."@@ Your mom chuckles. @@.girl;"I didn't expect you to fall in love with a fictional character."@@ Lily huffs, but it's affectionate. @@.lily;"Don't steal my moment, Mom. I need to introduce $name to Kaito's power. And his arms too, for good measure."@@ You laugh, and Mom puts a hand on both your shoulders. @@.girl;"Alright, team. Let's go find some anime magic."@@ With that, you cross the threshold into the pop-up zone. As you step under the HonShin Zero sign, Lily tugs you forward, eyes bright and focused. Mom matches your pace with gentle grounding steps, and you feel something real settle in your chest. As your own two feet take you forward into whatever comes next, you feel like you belong in this small but profound moment. <<button "Gacha" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 15">><</button>>

You're suddenly surrounded by flashing neon: white banners lit with the HonShin Zero logo, strings of LED lights wrapped around pop-up booths, and upbeat anime music. Directly ahead is a row of gachapon machines, each one glittering with capsules that hold stylized figures—miniature characters frozen in dynamic poses. Lily practically lunges, eyes wide. @@.lily;"There he is,"@@ she breathes, pointing at a life-size cardboard cutout of ''Kaito''—pale electric-blue hair, wind-swept coat, that practiced-but-intense gaze. Lily steps even closer, almost reverent. @@.lily;"His aura... it's so... calm but powerful. Every time I look at him, I feel like he's looking back at me."@@ She turns to you and Mom, eyes bright. @@.lily;"Can I... really try for him?"@@ Your mom drifts over and slides a few coins into Lily's palm. @@.girl;"Go on, sweetheart,"@@ she says, softly. @@.girl;"We'll try together, okay?"@@ Lily's face splits into a grin. @@.lily;"Okay, full disclosure,"@@ she says as she power-walks to the machine. @@.lily;"I looked this up last night. Kaito's only got a 0.8% chance in this set."@@ Her voice climbs with urgency. @@.lily;"That's not just rare, that's criminal. Basically, I'm gambling with my soul here."@@ She takes a deep breath and heads right for the gachapon machine nearest the Kaito artwork. Coins rattle as she feeds them into the slot. She pulls the handle with all her teenage intensity, her fingers wrapped tightly around the plastic knob. The capsule tumbles down. Lily catches it, heart pounding, eyes fixed on the sealed orb. She peels open the plastic, and there's a slight moment—just one breath. Then she gasps and holds it up like a trophy. It's him. Kaito, in chibi form, sculpted perfectly. Lily practically clutches it to her chest and declares, grinning: @@.lily;"He's mine! My husband!"@@ Your mom laughs quietly, her joy easy and warm. @@.girl;"I guess congratulations are in order."@@ Lily beams and turns to you, eyes shining with triumph. @@.lily;"Wait 'til I show him off—he's totally married to me."@@ She gives your arm a hearty punch. @@.lily;"I know you're jealous, $name."@@ Behind you, the pop-up continues its lively dance—bright lights, anime voices drifting in the air, a stream of fans wandering about. But for now, it's just the three of you in your own kind of moment. <<button "Do a quiz with Lily to find which HonShin character you are" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 16">>\<<set $d18lilygacha to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_lilygacha" "Do a quiz with Lily to find which HonShin character you are" "story">><</button>> <<button "Wander the merch stand with Mom" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 16">>\<<set $d18lilygacha to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_lilygacha" "Wander the merch stand with Mom" "story">><</button>> <<button "Take a family photo with Kaito" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 16">>\<<set $d18lilygacha to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_lilygacha" "Take a family photo with Kaito" "story">><</button>> <<button "Slip away for a solo look at the artbook wall" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 16">>\<<set $d18lilygacha to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_lilygacha" "Slip away for a solo look at the artbook wall" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18lilygacha is 0>>\ You spot a corner of the pop-up with a small touchscreen booth labeled "Which HonShin Zero Character Are You?" The screen flickers with neon colors and an arrow pointing to it. Lily's eyes light up. @@.lily;"Dude, we ''have'' to do this,"@@ she insists, practically shoving you toward it. She's already grinning, anticipation written all over her face. @@.lily;"It'll be hilarious if you're, like, a villain. Or someone really ugly."@@ You slide onto the stool and tap at the screen. The quiz starts with playful prompts: "What's your battle philosophy?" "Pick your favorite snack." "Early bird or night owl?" Lily watches your answers with curiosity. @@.lily;"You better not get Ganyu,"@@ she teases, arms folded. @@.lily;"She's too cool. You're not cool."@@ You smile and choose the answers that feel natural. A few taps later, the machine buzzes. The screen swirls with bright lights and dramatic sound effects. Your result appears in bold letters: ''KAITO'' Lily blinks. You glance over. Her eyes widen and she makes a face of horror. @@.lily;"Kaito?"@@ she squeaks. @@.lily;"What the hell? You're not Kaito. Whatever, I don't even like him anymore I mean, I can't believe—ugh."@@ She waves her hands dramatically as if chasing a fly. @@.lily;"Congrats, I guess. You can be my husband's sidekick."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Sidekick, huh?"@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, 'cause you're definitely not him,"@@ she says, rolling her eyes. @@.lily;"Maybe the machine broke or something."@@ You can't help but laugh. <<elseif $d18lilygacha is 1>>\ You and your mom drift toward the main merch stand, a colorful array of pins, acrylic stands, artbooks, photocards, and more. Lily's off chasing Kaito again, leaving just the two of you. It feels calm—like a gentle pause in the pop-up chaos. You pick up a small acrylic charm: a slender bow and arrow in icy-blue hues, reminiscent of Ganyu. You hold it up, studying the fine lines and holographic sparkle. Mom peers over your shoulder. @@.girl;"That's lovely,"@@ she says softly. @@.girl;"You know, it reminds me of something I watched when I was younger."@@ You glance at her, curious. She picks up a pin shaped like a crescent moon tiara—its curve elegant, silver, almost glowing in the light. @@.girl;"I used to watch this show called //Moonlight Maiden// every Saturday morning,"@@ she continues, voice drifting back decades. @@.girl;"It was about a girl named Luna. She had some planetary powers and defended Earth from evil shadow creatures. She had a tiara like this one. Her cat companion—Mr. Whiskers—gave her her powers. I loved that show."@@ She chuckles, sliding the pin gently across the display. @@.girl;"There was always a dramatic transformation scene and a 'love conquers all' theme. Kinda cheesy, but I was hooked."@@ You watch as she handles the pin like a keepsake, not just a trinket. @@.girl;"I guess buying stuff here isn't just about the characters,"@@ she says quietly. @@.girl;"It's about the moments we carry with us—like watching //Moonlight Maiden// when I was your age."@@ You nod. You're not sure why, but those words hit hard. <<elseif $d18lilygacha is 2>>\ You shift the weight of your bags and eye the life-size Kaito cutout—the perfect backdrop. You clear your throat, a soft invitation. @@.player;"Hey... wanna do a quick family photo? Like, with Kaito?"@@ Lily's head snaps up, her excitement palpable. @@.lily;"Yes! You get it, $name. It's like... my official wedding album—because Kaito's totally my husband, obviously."@@ @@.girl;"Your wedding album?"@@ Mom asks, arching an eyebrow. @@.lily;"Yeah,"@@ Lily says, nodding emphatically. She steps forward to stand beside the cutout. @@.lily;"We need to document this sacred contract."@@ You pull out your phone and switch to the front-facing camera. The small lens reflects your face for a moment—then you raise your arm, angling the phone just right. @@.player;"Okay, Kaito's cutting into the top of the frame. Lean in."@@ Lily theatrically scoots closer to the cardboard Kaito, placing her hand around its waist. Her grin is huge, eyes shining. @@.lily;"Mom, get in here!"@@ she commands with a grin. She gestures dramatically as if conducting a crowd. Mom steps around Lily, her arm settling gently around her daughter's shoulder. @@.girl;"Like this?"@@ @@.player;"Perfect,"@@ you say, trying not to grin too wide. @@.player;"Now me."@@ You edge forward, your arm stretching to encompass everyone. Lily juts her chin up and says, @@.lily;"Everyone smile!"@@ None of you have to smile—you've been doing it all along. You tap the button three times to make sure you got a good one. //Click. Click. Click.// On the small screen, you see it: Lily, triumphant; Mom, radiant; you—smiling, real, comfortable. Kaito frozen in cardboard smugness in the center of it all. Lily claps her hand, jumping a little. @@.lily;"We nailed it. That's our first wedding pic!"@@ Mom laughs softly, brushing Lily's hair back. @@.girl;"I think we made wedding album history today."@@ You tuck your phone back into your pocket, but the smile lingers. It's just a silly photo, sure, but it feels like something more—like a tiny snapshot of something good. And for today, here in the center of a chaotic pop-up, it's yours. <<elseif $d18lilygacha is 3>>\ <<set $acomposition to Math.clamp($acomposition + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You signal to Lily and Mom that you're going somewhere else for a minute—your voice soft so you don't disturb the pop-up peace. Lily shrugs in her own way, nodding and looking at more Kaito, while Mom watches you with an understanding smile. Without a word, you slip through the crowd toward a quieter corner of the space—a secluded gallery area labeled: ''Concept Art & Storytelling''. The lighting softens here, and the buzz of the gachapon machines fades behind you. A series of tall panels line the walls, each showcasing high-quality art from HonShin Zero. You pause in front of one: Ganyu. She's a graceful archer with blue hair and an elegant outfit that helped skyrocket her popularity. The portrait captures her in mid-motion—bow drawn, luminescent glyphs swirling around her in delicate, icy-blue arcs. You remember seeing her gameplay once, but seeing her rendered here, larger than life, stirs something in your chest. You glide your fingers just above the surface of the print, careful not to touch. You can't help but appreciate the strokes—the tiny flourishes of hair, the folds in her clothes, the soft glow of her cheek. You study the way the light kisses her skin, how her eyes seem so //alive//. It's... amazing. The amount of talent and skill that went into capturing not just a character, but a personality. You move along the panels, slower now, pausing at character design sheets—expressions, costume ideas, weapon ideas—each framed like a window into creation itself. For a moment, you step back and consider if ''you'' could ever draw like this. Maybe someday if you practiced. The soft murmur of Lily's voice drifts faintly from the crowd, calling you back. Your breath settles, and you end up standing in that corner a moment longer. You let the art speak to you, hoping it leaves a spark in you—one that you just might follow someday. Only then do you turn away. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 17">><</button>>

You linger in the pop-up's embrace, the neon glow illuminating your trio from every angle. Lily stands nearby, rocking gently on her heels as she cradles her new Kaito chibi figure. Her eyes skip over it like she's memorized everything about him. @@.lily;"Can you believe I //actually// pulled him?"@@ she murmurs, voice soft but full of awe. She holds the figure closer to her chest and offers you a sideways grin. @@.lily;"Don't even think about stealing him—he's ''my'' husband."@@ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You grin and roll your eyes. @@.player;"Your husband, huh? Well, I guess I'll take the role of the maid of honor, then."@@ <<else>>\ You grin and roll your eyes. @@.player;"Your husband, huh? Well, I guess I'll take the role of the best man, then."@@ <</if>>\ She nods solemnly, like you just accepted the greatest honor. @@.lily;"Perfect. Don't mess it up."@@ Mom chuckles from beside you, shifting the weight of her bag. @@.girl;"That sounds serious. I'm glad you two are making memories."@@ The space around you buzzes with chatter, the light jingle of capsules, and the rustle of display racks. It's a cozy storm of fandom energy—but after thirty minutes of bright lights and whirling distractions, the novelty is wearing off. Mom glances toward the pop-up entrance, toward the open mall space beyond. @@.girl;"That was fun, but I'm starving,"@@ your mom says, sighing. @@.girl;"And my feet are protesting something fierce."@@ Lily's lively grin falters as a wave of hunger kicks in. She holds the Kaito figure like a talisman. @@.lily;"Sorry, Kaito, but I'm too hungry. I ''need'' food."@@ @@.player;"Same here,"@@ you concur. @@.player;"I could eat the entire court if I had to."@@ Mom chuckles, folding her arms around her purse. @@.girl;"Let's do it then. Food sounds perfect right now."@@ She steps toward the pop-up's edge, already leading you out. Together, you step into the bustle of the food court, leaving the gacha pop-up behind. Right now, what you need isn't more Kaito, but a table, a meal, and a drink. <<button "Time for a meal" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 18">><</button>>

Your group of three carefully weave through the crowds until you reach a tucked-away table by a tall fake plant. The food court buzzes all around—laughter, trays clattering, the whirr of soda machine, and the comfort scent of everything fried, grilled, or baked in bulk. Mom drops her purse onto a plastic chair with a tired but contented sigh, casting an affectionate glance at the heap of shopping bags resting against your legs. @@.girl;"Wow—look at that pile,"@@ she murmurs. @@.girl;"We did some damage today, huh?"@@ You settle into your seat across from her, stretching your arms like you've just walked a marathon. @@.player;"Worth it though,"@@ you agree, glancing at your haul with a satisfied grin. Lily perches on the edge of another chair, holding her Kaito figure like it's a gold medal. @@.lily;"So, what are we getting?"@@ she asks. @@.lily;"I wonder if any restaurant sells dino nuggets..."@@ Mom reaches into her wallet, pulls out her card, and places it gently on the middle of the table. @@.girl;"Alright. You two can go get whatever you want. Meal, drink, dessert—anything. You earned it today."@@ You look at the card in surprise. @@.player;"Anything?"@@ She offers a firm nod. @@.girl;"Do I look like I'm joking? Go. I'll watch the bags."@@ Lily glances up excitedly. @@.lily;"Hey! I want what you're getting, $name. I'll come with you."@@ @@.player;"Let's go on the hunt,"@@ you say, smile growing. Lily pumps a fist, nearly tipping her chair. @@.lily;"Yeah. No backing out."@@ You glance toward the ring of food stalls. There are more than a dozen places lit up in neon lights and grease-scented glory. A few kids race past yelling about honey mustard. Somewhere nearby, a blender screeches through a smoothie. Mom leans back, folds her arms, and grins. @@.girl;"But seriously,"@@ she says gently. @@.girl;"Try to get something that won't give you a stomachache later."@@ You grin in return, shoulders squared. @@.player;"No promises."@@ She just laughs, shaking her head. @@.girl;"Go on,"@@ she states simply, waving you both off. @@.lily;"Sooo,"@@ Lily begins, tugging at your sleeve as you get up. @@.lily;"Where are we going?"@@ Pizza Hüt is a proud European chain that acts like putting an umlaut in the name makes their pizza cultured. The pizza's fine, but the crust is oddly sweet and the pepperoni looks like it was printed on. It's the kind of spot you eat at and then wonder if maybe you were just really hungry. Loud branding, flat burgers, and enough sauce to coat your soul. That's Burgur Kween. The combo deals are suspiciously cheap, and everything comes wrapped in foil with marketing slogans like "SLAY THE CRAVE." It doesn't help the fact that their burgers look like they've been sat on, though. Kansas Fried Poultry is the home of greasy chicken and coleslaw no one ever finishes. It was founded by General Thatch, whose portrait still hangs in every location—white suit, bolo tie, and a thousand-yard stare. They swear by their "Legendary Eleven-Dust Blend™"—you're pretty sure most of the taste comes down to the MSG though. No one knows what's in the gravy, but you eat it anyway. General Thatch would want you to be brave. Tacko Bong is Tex-Mex, but barely. You order it because it smells good, then immediately question your decisions mid-bite. It's fast, cheap, and tastes decent going in. But let's be honest here—you know what happens next. There's a reason why every bathroom stall near a Tacko Bong is mysteriously out of order. Koala Express is an aggressively average Chinese fast-food chain that's somehow in every mall, airport, and food court, even though no one remembers it actually opening. The food is comforting in a suspiciously consistent way. The real mystery is the mascot: a grinning koala in a silk robe, holding chopsticks. No one knows why exactly an Australian marsupial is representing orange chicken, and the brand has never explained it. You're not here for the authenticity though—you're here because it smells good and hits the same way every time. <<button "Pizza Hüt" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 19">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Pizza Hüt" "story">><</button>> <<button "Burgur Kween" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 19">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Burgur Kween" "story">><</button>> <<button "KFP - Kansas Fried Poultry" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 19">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "KFP - Kansas Fried Poultry" "story">><</button>> <<button "Tacko Bong" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 19">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Tacko Bong" "story">><</button>> <<button "Koala Express" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 19">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Koala Express" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18foodcourt is 0>>\ You and Lily approach the glowing red sign of Pizza Hüt—"Est. in Düsseldorf" proudly serifed underneath. It feels like you've stepped into a bunker of bread discipline. The staff behind the counter all wear crisp red aprons and stare ahead like they've been trained in the harshest of culinary bootcamps. A tall, severe man steps forward. His nametag reads ''GÜNTER'', and his expression is firm. He doesn't smile. You're not sure if you want him to. @@.boy;"Willkommen to ze Hüt,"@@ he says, with zero inflection. @@.boy;"You vill be having ze pizza, ya?"@@ Lily clears her throat. @@.lily;"Um, yeah. I want a slice of peppero—"@@ Günter interrupts. @@.boy;"Peperoniwurst,"@@ he corrects, like he's issuing a royal decree. @@.lily;"The fuck?"@@ Lily mutters under her breath. You glance at the menu to see what you should get. It's //technically// English, but everything has been rebranded for maximum faux-European flair: Zauce, Krustenplatte, Mozarrela der Schmeltz. There's even a combo called "Die Trilogie der Käse." It's just a three-cheese pizza. You ask about drinks. He doesn't speak. He simply slides a can of room-temperature orange soda across the counter. The label is peeled halfway off; it doesn't fizz. You're not convinced it's carbonated—or legal. Meanwhile, Lily leans in, whispering in a conspiratorial tone: @@.lily;"They don't mess around here, do they? This place is like—pizza military base."@@ @@.player;"It's no-nonsense pizza,"@@ you whisper back, scared that Günter will overhear. @@.player;"I respect that."@@ Five minutes later, two slices arrive on a cardboard tray printed with the phrase "Life ist kurz. Eat die Hüt." There's a single parsley leaf on each pizza. You both carry your food back to the table. Mom raises an eyebrow at you two while taking a sip of iced tea. @@.girl;"Pizza Hüt, huh?"@@ she says. @@.girl;"How was the culture?"@@ Lily shrugs dramatically. @@.lily;"It's... stern. Like pepperoni with a side of discipline."@@ You lay your tray down. @@.player;"Very effishent, ja,"@@ you say, adopting your best Günter impression. Mom leans forward. @@.girl;"Parsley?"@@ @@.player;"It's cultural, apparently,"@@ you shrug. @@.player;"I don't know, you're too American to get it."@@ Lily takes a cautious bite. Chew. @@.lily;"The sauce is weirdly sweet."@@ Another chew. @@.lily;"And the crust is tougher than Günter's stare."@@ You take a bite. The crust is firm, the sauce unnervingly saccharine, the pepperoni obedient. @@.player;"It's fine. It //works//. The Hüt delivers."@@ There is no joy, only structure and the faint scent of oregano. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 1>>\ You and Lily step under the neon crown of Burgur Kween and are immediately hit by a wave of flame-grilled aroma, sizzling grease, and a touch of theatricality. Purple spotlights cast a glow over the counter and the soda machine thunders out upbeat pop music. This place doesn't whisper confidence, it ''shouts'' it. @@.lily;"This is awesome, $name,@@ Lily says, practically bouncing at your side. @@.lily;"It's like we walked into a burger stage show."@@ Behind the counter stands Miss Patty—a tall server with gleaming gold hoops, immaculate acrylic nails, and an apron that looks more like a costume than a uniform. Their name tag is festive too, handwritten in Sharpie and topped off with a playful lipstick kiss. @@.girl;"Welcome to Burgur Kween, darlings,"@@ Miss Patty drawls, sweeping a hand in greeting. @@.girl;"What's the vibe today? Are we feeling classic? Deluxe? Or just full-on drama?"@@ @@.player;"I'll take... just a cheeseburger,"@@ you say. Miss Patty arches an amused eyebrow. @@.girl;"Just? Oh honey, we don't do 'just' here. We do bold. Juicy. Life-changing."@@ You look up at the menu, which is a fever dream of specials with names like "The Glam Stack," "Double Drama," and "The Untucked Combo." You're holding in laughter, but you manage to smile and speak up. @@.player;"Alright, I'll take the Classic Kween Cheeseburger with fries. And a mango soda, please."@@ Miss Patty claps their hands theatrically. @@.girl;"Yes! You don't need extra sauce, sweetness. You bring the flavor."@@ @@.lily;"Then I'm diving right into the Double Drama Deluxe. That's the two-patty with onion rings. I want the glitter dust too. Lots of it."@@ @@.girl;"That's a queen's choice!"@@ Miss Patty snaps their fingers. @@.girl;"Drop the royal stack and crown it, darling!"@@ When the fries sizzle in the fryer behind them, Patty slides your receipt across the counter with a teasing flourish. @@.girl;"Grab a straw with attitude—something that matches your vibe."@@ Lily hovers, eyeing a rainbow of striped straws. She picks a red one with a flounce. @@.lily;"This one's totally me."@@ You grab a purple-striped straw that just feels right. The kitchen clangs in approval and your trays arrive: the Classic Kween Cheeseburger sits snug next to golden fries and a soda on yours. Lily scoops up her tray like a trophy. @@.lily;"Dude, this is gonna be legendary."@@ Back at the table, out of the sensory explosion, your mom waits for you both. Her iced tea sits gently in the cup holder. Lily slides into her seat, onion rings with glitter dust steaming in the tray. She eyes them with reverence. @@.lily;"They... look amazing. And listen to that crunch."@@ She bites in and closes her eyes. @@.lily;"Mhm—yeah. Total jackpot."@@ You unwrap your burger carefully—the cheese still melted at the seams. You lean back in your seat and grin. @@.player;"That restaurant was crazy. Miss Patty was full-on performance art."@@ Mom laughs softly, nabbing a french fry between her fingers. @@.girl;"You don't go to Burgur Kween for the taste. I could watch the theatrics all day."@@ @@.lily;"Everything's over-the-top,"@@ Lily says, nodding. @@.lily;"I love it."@@ Your mom glances between you and Lily, pride shining in her eyes. @@.girl;"I'm really glad you two enjoyed the experience."@@ She nudges her cup gently, sipping the tea. You pick up a fry and raise it like a toast. @@.player;"To royal burgers and dramatic straws."@@ Lily raises her drink against yours with a grin. @@.lily;"To Burgur Kween!"@@ Mom lifts her iced tea. @@.girl;"To our little adventures."@@ And together, the three of you lean into the chaotic comfort of a food court meal. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 2>>\ You step into the smoky scent thrumming from Kansas Fried Poultry—a wild swirl of grease, black pepper, and that unapologetic fried-chicken defiance. It perches in the mall food court like a legend, crowned by the silhouette of Kansas wearing a cowboy hat. Framed portraits of General Thatch—legendary founder and spirited icon—glower from the walls. A tattered Stars-and-Stripes flutters behind the counter, worn but proud. @@.lily;"$name, this place smells like victory,"@@ Lily states, nudging you. Behind the counter, leaning over the register like she owns it all, stands Mary-Beth. Her name tag's nearly faded off, and her apron looks like it survived a cornbread cannon explosion. @@.girl;"Well, howdy there, darlin's,"@@ she drawls, voice heavy with Southern cheer. @@.girl;"Y'all look like you came here for more than a salad—bless your hearts. Lemme take care of you proper."@@ Before you or Lily can ask for the menu, she slaps her hand on the counter. @@.girl;"We don't //do// menus here,"@@ she says firmly, reading your mind. @@.girl;"We do chicken—hot as a jalapeño sermon and proud as a peacock."@@ @@.girl;"Hey!"@@ she tuns around and hollers to the kitchen. @@.girl;"Drop two thighs, two drumsticks, a side of those taters, and two mercy biscuits! Y'all are gonna need strength to survive this blessing."@@ She spins back to you, grinning wide. @@.girl;"Everything's comin' right up. Don't worry 'bout nothin'—I got y'all."@@ Lily tries to ask a question, but Mary-Beth raises a finger: @@.girl;"If it ain't fried, it ain't invited. Now scoot on over to that cooler and grab yourselves something bubbly—sweet tea, orange fizz, go wild."@@ By the time you return from the fridge, Mary-Beth has your order ready. @@.girl;"Y'all enjoy now,"@@ Mary-Beth says, wiping her hands on a rag that might've fought in the war. @@.girl;"And if it don't light a fire in yer chest, we'll bury ya with honor."@@ At your table by the fake plant, Mom stirs her iced tea and watches with a fond, amused smile as Lily as you unload the bounty. Lily gently pokes a drumstick. @@.lily;"Dude, this is ''majestic'',"@@ she breathes, awed. @@.lily;"Look at that skin—like sun-tanned armor."@@ You peel back the bucket lid, and a cloud of steam swirls into your face. @@.player;"It's... amazing,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"General Thatch would be proud."@@ @@.girl;"A true American icon,"@@ Mom says, chuckling. You pick up a thigh, the skin crackling beneath your fingertips. One bit sends a thunderclap of flavor through your mouth—the spice, the crisp, and the juice. Lily crunches into her drumstick with a triumphant smack. @@.lily;"Mary-Beth judged our souls good and proper."@@ You all laugh as you enjoy the warm comfort that only a ridiculous, messy, southern-fried family moment can bring. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 3>>\ The closer you get to Tacko Bong, the more the air feels like a late-night dorm room—warmed-over tortilla chips, stale microwaved goodness, and a hazy, laid-back buzz. A faded mural of a cool cactus wearing a beanie, gripping a burrito like it's its only friend, adorns the wall. A little sign on the register reads: "Now Hiring. No Snitches." The place reeks of chaotic comfort—a perfect storm of cheesy indulgence and casual slacker energy. Behind the counter, a guy stands half-shadowed under the neon glow. He's got a bandana tied low on his forehead, hot sauce packets clipped to his belt like ammo, and eyes so half-lidded he looks like he's buffering. His name tag, scrawled sloppily in Sharpie, reads "Chaz." He stares at you for a moment, then blinks slowly. @@.boy;"Yo..."@@ he intones. @@.boy;"You hungry?"@@ You nod once. Chaz nods back. @@.boy;"That's sick. Me too."@@ No menus here—just taped photos of a Cruncho Loco Supreme, Nacho Nacho Situation, and the Mystery Quesadilla (No Refunds). Lily glances up at the board, eyebrows twitching. @@.lily;"So... what's any of that?"@@ @@.boy;"I can, like... throw some stuff in a tortilla?"@@ Chaz offers. @@.boy;"We got beans. Probably."@@ A second guy appears from the back. You didn't hear him come out. His name tag says "Spoon", and he's holding a ladle full of neon-yellow cheese like it's a sacred artifact. @@.boy;"You want the drip?"@@ Spoon asks. @@.boy;"We got the drip."@@ @@.player;"The drip?"@@ you say, voice cautious. He holds up the ladle. @@.boy;"This is the drip,"@@ Spoon says simply. Chaz nods solemnly after him. You glance at Lily—she's intrigued, but wary. @@.player;"Okay, I'll... just take whatever you have,"@@ you say, handing over the card. The two of them go off to assemble your food with ritual-like slowness, scooping mystery fillings, layering cheese lovingly, and wrapping it all in tortillas. When they hand you the bundle, Chaz flashes a smile. @@.boy;"That drip means it's good."@@ @@.lily;"What even is this?"@@ Lily asks, peering at the burrito-adjacent...//thing// in tin foil. @@.player;"I dunno,"@@ you admit as you and Lily grab drinks and head back to Mom at your table by the big fake plant. Mom looks up from her iced tea, concern flickering in her eyes as your package leaks onto the table. @@.girl;"Is it safe?"@@ @@.player;"The guy who made it called it 'a transcendental bean event,' so..."@@ @@.girl;"So..."@@ Mom drags, blinking. @@.girl;"What you're saying is it's not safe."@@ It's Lily who laughs first. @@.lily;"Tacko Bong employees are high,"@@ she says, shaking her head in mock disappointment. @@.lily; "Who knew?"@@ @@.player;"I guess it's part of the experience,"@@ you respond, shrugging. You tear into your burrito, and it's surprisingly delicious. The first bite floods your mouth with a riot of spice, cheese, and beans. @@.lily;"Holy crap,"@@ Lily exclaims, eyes going wide. @@.lily;"This is actually kinda awesome."@@ @@.girl;"I'll take your word for it,"@@ Mom says with a glimmer in her eyes. @@.girl;"You two might need a week to recover, though."@@ @@.player;"Oh, yeah,"@@ you say in between bites. @@.player;"It's gonna wreck us."@@ Lily smirks and nods. @@.lily;"Totally worth it, though."@@ The both of you dig in, the chaotic comfort of the sloppy food and that surreal energy turning into a strangely wholesome family moment. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 4>>\ You spot the golden cat near the counter first, its paw looping slowly, like a silent invitation. The red-and-gold menu board lists endless combos: two entrées and a side, served on trays so wide they look designed for an entire village. Lily and you step toward the counter. She stares at the towering trays of orange chicken, beef and broccoli, and fried rice piled like a mountain. @@.lily;"Wow,"@@ she breathes. @@.lily;"These portions are... insane. I'm not sure I can even eat this much."@@ @@.player;"You can always try,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"If you're full, I can take the rest."@@ The server greets you both without missing a beat. @@.girl;"Welcome to Koala Express. Combo or box?"@@ @@.player;"Combo,"@@ you say first. @@.player;"I'll take orange chicken and beef and broccoli, with fried rice."@@ Lily fidgets in place for a second before answering: @@.lily;"I'll do combo too—black pepper chicken and shrimp egg roll. And... can I get chow mein?"@@ @@.girl;"Good choice,"@@ the server says neutrally, scooping the selections onto two trays. The food gets piled high, the team carrying a heady aroma of soy, sugar, and savory promise. The plastic lid has to be taped on, the poor thing struggling. Your mom is waiting for you at the table, iced tea in hand. She waves you both over with a small, content smile. Arms trembling slightly under the weight of your tray, you and Lily make your way to the table. Mom lifts an eyebrow at the sheer volume of food. @@.girl;"That's... quite a haul."@@ Lily sets her tray down carefully. @@.lily;"It's ''huge'',"@@ she says, awe and doubt circling her voice. @@.lily;"Like, I don't actually know if I can finish this."@@ You pull out your fortune cookie, peel it, and crack it open. The paper is smudged and slightly torn, but still legible: ''You are full of potential. And also rice.'' @@.player;"Here—fortune cookie says I have potential,"@@ you say, chuckling. Mom laughs and lifts her cup. @@.girl;"That you do."@@ Lily exhales and digs in, wobbling a mix of Chinese onto her fork. @@.lily;"Okay, okay, this is good,"@@ she admits around a bite of chow mein. @@.lily;"Black pepper chicken?"@@ she offers a piece to you. @@.lily;"Try it."@@ Koala Express offers a certain kind of comforting chaos you didn't quiet expect. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 20">><</button>>

<<if $d18lilyquestion is 0>>\ You glance sideways at Lily, who's messing with her phone, thumb scrolling aimlessly, then you smirk. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say, voice casual but loud enough to cut through the quiet, @@.player;"since we're headed to the mall, it seems like a good time to remind everyone about that very special trip years ago..."@@ Lily freezes, eyes snapping up. @@.lily;"Don't."@@ You lean back, arms behind your head, fully committing. @@.player;"The one where someone got dramatically, epically, ''horrifically'' lost in the mall food court for—what was it?—an hour?"@@ @@.lily;"It was twenty minutes,"@@ she snaps. @@.lily;"And I was literally five or something."@@ You ignore her. @@.player;"She disappeared mid-bite of an Auntie Agnes's pretzel. It was like a vanishing act. One second she was there, happily devouring dough, the next—poof. Gone. Like a tiny, churro-powered cryptid."@@ Your mom laughs from the front seat. @@.girl;"Oh, I remember. I aged a decade that day. Security had to make an announcement over the loudspeaker. 'Missing little girl, East Asian with black hair and brown eyes'—and Lily was apparently just sitting inside Cuddle Creations, sobbing because she saw one of the plushies without any stuffing. Just the floppy skin."@@ Lily groans, dragging her hands down her face. @@.lily;"It was horrifying, alright? It looked like a deflated animal crime scene. I was a kid, okay? I didn't know."@@ You grin wider. @@.player;"You told the employee you were a princess from //The Chronicles of Vamira//."@@ Lily turns to you, dead serious. @@.lily;"$name, in that moment, I //was// Princess Sparkles. Sparkles had confidence. Sparkles didn't cry when she realized she was lost."@@ @@.player;"Oh, you //definitely// cried,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I remember because your eyes were all red and you made Mom carry you around for the rest of the trip."@@ @@.girl;"She made me promise we'd never speak of it again, you know?"@@ your mom chimes in. @@.lily;"Yeah, thanks for that, by the way,"@@ Lily mutters, glaring at you. @@.lily;"Truly a betrayal of sacred childhood trust."@@ You just shrug. @@.player;"It's kind of your fault for trusting me."@@ She glares harder. @@.lily;"Okay, but how about we talk about the time you fell asleep //inside// a clothing rack because you were 'tired of society' and then screamed when a mannequin fell on you?"@@ You freeze. @@.player;"That never happened."@@ @@.lily;"Oh, it definitely did,"@@ Lily says triumphantly. @@.lily;"Mom took pictures."@@ Your mom hums innocently from the front. @@.girl;"Still on my phone. Somewhere."@@ Lily leans back, smug. @@.lily;"Princess Sparkles rests her case."@@ You shake her head, trying not to smile, and lightly bump your knee against hers. She bumps you right back without looking up. The car turns into the mall parking lot just as a gust of wind sends a swirl of leaves skittering past the windshield. Despite all the teasing, you can't help but feel warm in your chest. Lily's laughing. You're laughing. And for once, everything feels just a little easier. A little more like it used to be. <<elseif $d18lilyquestion is 1>>\ You lean your head against the cool window, watching the blur of neighborhoods pass by. Then, almost without thinking, you ask, @@.player;"Do you guys ever feel like time's just... moving way too fast?"@@ The question hangs there for a moment. Your mom glances at you in the rearview mirror, brows lifting slightly. @@.girl;"Where's that coming from?"@@ You shrug, still watching the trees go by. @@.player;"I don't know. It just feels like everything's happening all at once lately. School, college stuff, people changing. I blink and the day's already over. I used to think everything took forever. Now it's like I can't catch up."@@ There's a quiet pause. @@.girl;"I feel that,"@@ your mom says, her voice softer now. @@.girl;"More than you probably think."@@ She turns the wheel with one hand as the car curves onto a familiar road, the tires humming on the pavement. @@.girl;"When I was your age, it felt like I was racing toward something—adulthood, I guess. And now? It's like I hit that mark, and everything just... kept going. Faster. Like the moment I got used to one phase of life, it was already moving onto the next."@@ Lily frowns a little, leaning back in her seat. @@.lily;"I don't know. I feel like school days still drag. Like, math class is a decade long."@@ Your mom smiles at her through the mirror. @@.girl;"That's fair. Life moves differently when you're fourteen. When I was your age, I thought twenty-five was ancient."@@ @@.lily;"Twenty-five //is// ancient,"@@ Lily scoffs. Your mom laughs, shaking her head. @@.girl;"Thanks for that."@@ Lily shrugs, trying to hide her grin. @@.lily;"I just don't think about that stuff much yet. I still feel like... I don't know, like everything's just beginning."@@ @@.girl;"That's exactly it,"@@ your mom says quietly. @@.girl;"It //is// beginning. For both of you. But the thing about beginnings is, they don't announce when they're ending. You just notice later that they did. And that's when you start wondering where the time went."@@ You glance over at Lily. She's looking out the window too now, eyebrows scrunched just slightly, like she's trying to understand something just out of reach. You nod slowly. @@.player;"Yeah. I guess I'm just realizing I'm not really going to be here much longer. Like, home. With you guys. And I thought I'd feel ready, but... sometimes I don't."@@ @@.girl;"You don't have to be ready all at once, $name,"@@ your mom states. @@.girl;"Life doesn't ask that of you. But it will keep moving, whether you're ready or not. I guess that's why moments like this matter more than they seem."@@ The car feels quiet again, but it's not empty. It's full of something heavier—something real. The kind of silence that comes when people are thinking about the same thing, even if they're not saying it. A few houses later, your mom adds, @@.girl;"And for what it's worth... I feel lucky I still get days like this. Just the three of us, driving to the mall like time hasn't changed a single thing."@@ You smile at that, and when you look at Lily again, she meets your eyes for a second and offers a small nod. And even though nothing's been solved, and the future's still rushing toward you like it always has, the car keeps rolling forward—now with the soft comfort of knowing you're not alone in the feeling. <<elseif $d18lilyquestion is 2>>\ You let the silence hang just long enough to feel like you're about to say something //really// important. Then: @@.player;"Okay. Zombie apocalypse. Who dies first?"@@ Lily doesn't even look up from her phone. @@.lily;"You."@@ @@.player;"Really?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.player;"No hesitation?"@@ @@.lily;"Not even a second,"@@ she says, casually swiping through Instagram. @@.lily;"You wouldn't even survive one night, actually. You'd get distracted trying to find a charger for your phone so you can keep texting your sad little group chat with the only two friends you have."@@ That one stings. @@.player;"At least I don't think I'm going to defeat zombies with angry eyeliner."@@ Lily whips to look at you, scandalized. @@.lily;"This is winged eyeliner, thank you, and it's sharp enough to kill."@@ @@.player;"Emotionally, maybe."@@ From the driver's seat, your mom lets out a long, weary sigh that only parents can achieve. @@.girl;"Do I really need to remind you two that I have the car, the emergency flashlight, and the granola bars? I'm surviving this apocalypse whether you're in it or not."@@ @@.lily;"Mom, the emergency flashlight has been out of batteries since I was a baby,"@@ Lily states, deadpan. @@.girl;"You're not surviving either."@@ @@.player;"Definitely not,"@@ you agree. @@.girl;"Is it really out of batteries?"@@ your mom asks, frowning. @@.player;"Lily, you're not one to talk,"@@ you state. @@.player;"You would literally argue with a zombie, then get bit."@@ Lily gasps. @@.lily;"I would not!"@@ @@.player;"Didn't you literally argue with a seagull last year when we went to the pier?"@@ @@.lily;"It was smug!"@@ Lily says, volume rising. @@.lily;"It took my churro and then stared into my soul."@@ @@.player;"You swore at it and got in trouble."@@ Lily crosses her arms but she's grinning. @@.lily;"Better than that time ''you'' climbed up on the shed to 'get better signal' and got stuck up there for two hours because a raccoon knocked down the ladder."@@ You open your mouth, then close it again, defeated. Your mom, still driving, laughs. @@.girl;"And the two of you said //I'm// not surviving?"@@ @@.lily;"You might survive,"@@ Lily says sincerely. @@.lily;"But you'd get your settlement to follow chore charts and schedules."@@ @@.girl;"Well I'm sorry that I believe in structure,"@@ your mom says, mock-wounded. @@.player;"You know, I think Mom could weaponize towels,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Like roll them up and whip zombies in the face. It's not the worst strategy, if you really think about it."@@ Lily giggles, nudging your shoulder gently. You bump her right back, a silent little exchange that says "I'm glad you're here." The car turns into the mall parking lot, the building looming ahead like a fluorescent castle full of overpriced clothing and food. The laughter in the car fades into a content kind of quiet, the kind that sits comfortably between people who know each other way too well—and like each other anyway. <</if>>\ <<button "Shopping begin!" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 3">><</button>>

You and Lily settle into the meal, your trays clinking softly as you eat. The hum of distant conversations and the scraping of forks fill the air, wrapping you in a gentle, ordinary comfort. Your mom gives you both a fond smile and rises. @@.girl;"I'll grab my meal,"@@ she says, casting a quick flash at each of you. @@.girl;"Enjoy yourselves. I'll be back in a flash."@@ She drifts off into the crowd, leaving you and Lily alone together. Suddenly the space between you feels softer, quieter. Lily fiddles with the edge of her tray, eyes fixed on the food she's barely started. After a moment, she clears her throat. @@.lily;"Hey... $name?"@@ Her voice is small, hesitant, but steady. You look up from your own tray and catch her gaze. Her cheeks are slightly pink—not from embarrassment, exactly, but like she's exposing something raw and honest about herself. She shifts, uncomfortable, then speaks again. @@.lily;"I—uh, I was thinking... we used to spend, like, all of our time together. Do you remember? School festivals, the camping trip, that summer when we were parked in front of the console?"@@ She pauses, searching your face. @@.lily;"And now... I don't know. We barely talk. We're in the same house but... it's like we're a million miles away."@@ She looks away, biting her lip. Her fingers tap lightly on the tray in front of her—nervous rhythm. Her voice is softer this time. @@.lily;"I miss how easy it was, you know? How you'd help me with my homework, or when I'd tell you dumb stuff and you'd laugh—even when it wasn't that funny. We just... we used to be close. Today reminded me of that."@@ She glances back at you, eyes shining with uncertainty. @@.lily;"And now I don't even know if we're... I mean, are we still even friends?"@@ The words hang between you, gentle but heavy. Lily's shoulders are hunched, a small sign of how much courage it took to say this. You forget that she's still fourteen sometimes. She's reaching out in the only way she really knows how—awkwardly, honestly, vulnerably. The food court noise continues around you, but both of you are in this quieter bubble now. You sense Lily's heart on the table, raw and waiting for your answer. This moment matters, and it's up to you to respond: <<button "Of course we're still friends" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 21">>\<<set $d18lilyfriend to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_lilyfriend" "Of course we're still friends" "story">><</button>> <<button "Not anymore" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 21">>\<<set $d18lilyfriend to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_lilyfriend" "Not anymore" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18lilyfriend is true>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You pause, the weight of Lily's question lingering amid the soft clatter of the food court. Taking a deep breath, you lean forward, catching her gaze. @@.player;"Of course we're still friends, Lils,"@@ you say, voice steady but warm. @@.player;"We're siblings, and I'm ''really'' glad we've been reconnecting lately."@@ Lily freezes. She blinks at you, mouth opening slightly, as if your words surprised her in the best possible way. Then she exhales and smiles—a gentle, relieved curve that seems to lift years of distance off her shoulders. The tension that's been building between you both eases, filtered down until all that remains is the safe space of shared laughter and familiarity. @@.lily;"Really?"@@ she asks, surprise giving way to confidence. She scoots a little closer. @@.lily;"Like... even if I get super annoying? Or I say stupid things?"@@ Her brows knit together comically, the moment between you suddenly playful, as though the fear of separation had been ballooning until popped by that single affirmation. @@.player;"Especially then,"@@ you joke softly. @@.player;"You're stuck with me forever, face it."@@ She giggles—light and genuine. @@.lily;"Awesome, 'cause you're stuck with me too."@@ Her tone shifts just a shade more serious. @@.lily;"Thanks, $name."@@ She glances away, chewing on the corner of her lip. @@.lily;"Today's been really fun. I missed... this."@@ She doesn't elaborate. She doesn't //need// to. Neither does the long, warm pause that follows. You and Lily take a deliberate bite, and as you chew, the food tastes sweeter. Almost as if it's been flavored by this moment of restored connection. @@.player;"Do you remember that time we built a pillow castle fort in the living room?"@@ you ask, and Lily's shoulder lift with a laugh. @@.lily;"I was the queen,"@@ Lily says, folding a napkin in half. @@.lily;"You were the knight."@@ She rolls her eyes fondly. @@.lily;"And I made you eat the 'royal gruel'—AKA chicken nuggets in gravy—and you pretended to like it, even though it was cold and disgusting."@@ Your grin grows. @@.player;"Look, I didn't hate it—okay, maybe I did—but you made it with solemn ceremony."@@ @@.lily;"It absolutely //was// solemn!"@@ Lily says, elbowing you gently. As you laugh and reminisce, neither of you notices how lighter the air feels. That long-ago closeness, buried under busy days and drifting summers, is slowly returning. That's when your mom returns. She slides into the seat opposite of you, her tray in hand, and pauses with a soft smile on her face. @@.girl;"You two look... happy,"@@ she says, eyes flicking to your bright faces. @@.girl;"What's going on over here? I was only gone for a few minutes."@@ You and Lily just exchange a knowing glance. <<else>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo - 20, 0, 100)>>\ You hold the words as if they were sharp stones in your mouth: @@.player;"Not anymore."@@ The sentence seems to echo in the quiet of the food court, louder than any shouted argument. Lily freezes. You see it—the shock, the sense of loss—swallowing her disappointment before it can break. Her hand trembles, barely brushing the tray. She forces herself to respond quietly, voice like glass. @@.lily;"Oh."@@ But that "oh" is like a cave collapsing. She glances up, trying to steady herself. You reach for her, but draw back. It's too late for comfort—too late for words. @@.lily;"I... I thought,"@@ Lily mumbles, voice cracking, @@.lily;"because... I don't know... with us chatting and then actually.... shopping together today..."@@ Her words tumble out, awkward, fragmented, heavy with hope. @@.lily;"I thought maybe we were getting back... closer."@@ She looks at you, betrayed. Her eyes glisten with tears she refuses to let fall. Her voice fractures. @@.lily;"I really thought that."@@ You swallow. You want to tell her how important today has been, how precious her being here is, how sorry you are that those words spilled out. But all you manage is a trembling whisper: @@.player;"I didn't mean it like that. Today was... important."@@ Her shoulders slump—as though she's carrying a weight she never expected. She barely nods, quietly turning back to her food. She doesn't speak again. The air between you grows colder, thick with regret. A few awkward minutes pass. She continues picking at the food, but her appetite has disappeared. The silence stretches, broken only by distant footfalls and the hum of conversation too light, too happy for this table. Then your mom returns, tray in hand, her eyes flicking between the two of you. She sets her items down softly and slides into her seat. Concern gathers in her expression like dark clouds. She looks at both of you, voice gentle. @@.girl;"What happened between you two?"@@ Both of you turn toward her. Your heart pounds. You open your mouth, but words don't come out. Lily stares at the table, lips pressed together. It's clear she wants to reach out, but something inside won't let her. She just sits there, her expression sad. And in that moment—under the harsh food court lights, amidst the chatter and clatter—something shifts. The day's fragile hope fractures, and you both find yourself at a quiet line, unsure how to bridge the gap that's opened wide between you. <</if>>\ <<button "The drive home" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 22">><</button>>

<<if $d18lilyfriend is true>>\ The drive home hums with a gentle, content energy. The overhead lights cast long, drifting reflections across the car's interior, lending a soft warmth to the moment. In the front, Mom keeps the car steady, a small, pleased smile curling her lips. You catch the corner of her eye in the rearview mirror, and it's enough—a silent affirmation that tonight, everything is okay. @@.player;"So, Lils,"@@ you begin, nudging Lily playfully. @@.player;"Which store was the highlight for you?"@@ Lily grins, her eyes lighting up. @@.lily;"Cuddle Creations,"@@ she says without hesitation. @@.lily;"Those plushies were... ''so'' cute. I would've bought the whole store if I had the money. But Mom already gets mad at me for having too many plushies, so I don't think she'd be happy."@@ @@.girl;"I definitely wouldn't,"@@ Mom says, voice drifting from the front seat. You laugh, bumping her lightly with your shoulder. @@.player;"Anything other standouts?"@@ Lily thinks a little longer before answering, @@.lily;"Kaito!"@@ She smiles. @@.lily;"The life-size cutout was so—so cool. We're getting married soon, you know. Plus I got his figurine."@@ @@.player;"You and your Kaito,"@@ you tease. @@.player;"That was funny."@@ She leans toward you and whispers conspiratorially, @@.lily;"He has that... calm-powerful vibe or whatever. It's like he knows he's awesome."@@ Mom chimes in from the front seat, her voice soft but amused. @@.girl;"You two looked really happy today. I'm so glad it was fun. We should do this more often."@@ @@.lily;"Maybe,"@@ Lily snorts. @@.lily;"Only if you're not too tired of my Kaito talk."@@ @@.player;"You're fine,"@@ you reassure. @@.player;"Besides, I kind of want to try the arcade sometime."@@ She perks up. @@.lily;"Oh! You should. I'll show you my super top-secret claw machine technique."@@ You elbow her, laughing. @@.player;"Deal."@@ @@.girl;"Sounds like a plan,"@@ Mom reaffirms, laughing. The rest of the ride is that easy back-and-forth that you've missed. As you observe the streetlights, you feel something settle behind your ribs—like you've found your footing again. Mom pulls into the garage and cuts the engine. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ Mom says, turning with a grin. @@.girl;"Ready to call it a night?"@@ Lily grins. @@.lily;"Best day ever."@@ You meet your Mom's eyes in the front and nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Thanks, Mom."@@ <<else>>\ The drive home is silent—no radio, no commentary, just the hum of the tires on the asphalt and the soft click of passing streetlights. In the front seat, your mom navigates the turns, her face thoughtful in the glow of the dashboard lights. You're in the back, half-turned away from Lily, trying not to let your gaze linger, as if distance could fix the tension. Lily is curled into her seat, hands folded in her lap. She stares out the window, eyes unfocused, tracing the fleeting glow of streetlights. Every now and then, her foot taps against the floor, a small, restless beat. Your mom glances at the rearview mirror. There's a hope behind her eyes—hope for a conversation, a reunion, anything that might fill the space between you two. She inhales gently. @@.girl;"$name, honey..."@@ she begins, voice soft and carrying so much care. @@.girl;"What happened back there?"@@ You clamp your jaw. No answer, just another shift in your seat—stubborn and unhelpful. Mom looks at Lily now. @@.girl;"Sweetie? You okay?"@@ she asks. But Lily's head remains turned, an image of silence, of walls carefully built. Your heart pounds. You don't want to hurt her more—and yet you remain quiet. You know each moment of silence sharpens the ache between you. Your mom sighs, almost a whisper. @@.girl;"We don't have to talk about it now, but I'd like to understand... eventually."@@ You stare at the seat in the front, words stuck on the tip of your tongue. Lily chews her lip, kneading the fabric of her skirt with her fingers. She bites back something she wants to say. Mom glances between both of you one more time. @@.girl;"I just hate seeing you two like this. You've always meant so much to each other."@@ No response. Not now. Not tonight. Your mom settles back in silence, turning back to the road. The drive stretches on, the distance between you three bigger than it should be. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 23">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-livingroomn.png"> <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d18lilyfriend is true>>\ The living room feels warm and lived-in as you step inside, the lamp casting soft pools of light over the scattered shopping bags. Lily plops against the warm of the couch, already winding down from the day's rush. She rubs at her eyes. @@.lily;"I am //so// tired,"@@ she mumbles, half to herself. She reaches for her phone and starts tapping away. @@.lily;"Gotta update the group chat... tell them I'm still alive."@@ She stands then, stretching. @@.lily;"Night!"@@ Without waiting, she grabs her bag, shuffles past the pile of purchases, and heads toward the stairs. A few seconds later, you hear the familiar thud of her door closing. Mom turns from gathering up crumpled receipts, smiling at you. Her eyes are full of pride and affection. @@.girl;"Today was so good, $name."@@ She sets a bag down carefully on the coffee table and steps forward. Leaning into you, she wraps her arms around your shoulders in a hug that feels safe and right. @@.girl;"Thank you—for letting me share this day with you and Lily."@@ You relax into her embrace and return it gently. @@.player;"It was fun, Mom. I'm glad we did this."@@ She squeezes you once before releasing, brushing a hand down your arm. @@.girl;"I love you,"@@ she says simply, her voice thick with warmth. You nod. @@.girl;"Okay, sleepyhead. Go get some rest,"@@ she says, stepping back. @@.girl;"We'll see what tomorrow brings."@@ You meet her gaze and smile. @@.player;"Goodnight, Mom."@@ Grabbing your bags, you move toward the staircase. Each step is deliberate, echoing lightly in the quiet house. On the landing, you pause for a moment, hand resting on the railing, replaying the day's laughter. Your door awaits, familiar and comforting. You reach for the handle—cool metal under your palm—and turn it. <<else>>\ You arrive home in silence, the driveway under the car tires almost too loud. You all step out, the garage door squeaking like an awkward reminder of the tension hanging between you. Lily moves first—turning sharply toward the front door, her backpack slung over one shoulder. She swings it open and pounds up the stairs. The door slams shut behind her with the finality of a verdict. Your mom exhales slowly and meets your gaze. She wraps her arms around herself as you stand there, the echo of Lily's departure still hanging in the air. Your heart tightens—seeing Mom like this makes you realize how much this hurts her, too. She takes a careful step closer, voice soft but steady. @@.girl;"$name... I know you don't want to talk about it right now. And I might not know exactly what happened today, but I do know this: I'm here for you—always. And I love both you and Lily, no matter what."@@ She places a gentle hand on your arm, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. @@.girl;"I hope you two can work this out. I really do."@@ You nod silently, emotions lurching in your chest, unspoken sorrow mingling with gratitude. You want to say something, but words tangle and won't come. Mom steps back, offering a small, encouraging smile. Then she gives you a look full of patient hope—like she's waiting, but understands it'l take time. You take a breath but say nothing, returning her smile with something quieter, unsteady but ready. @@.girl;"Goodnight,"@@ she whispers, turning away to head to her room. You remain, feeling the weight of the evening settle. Then you turn, grab your bags, take a step toward the stairs, and start climbing. Each step raises memories—some warm, some sharp—and you wonder how they all fit together now. At the top, you pause before your door. The handle is cool under your hand. You wrap your fingers around the doorknob and breathe in. Then push it open. <</if>>\ <<button "Back home" "Day 18 - 7">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> The mall looms ahead as you step out of the car—familiar and buzzing with distant voices and the soft whir of automatic doors opening and closing. Lily is practically bouncing toward the building. @@.lily;"Okay, I have ''so'' many ideas. Anime pop-up first. Then Cuddle Creations. Then Blink + Shine. Then food court. Then we go to that store that sells the strawberry-shaped hats I showed you—yes, I'm getting one, don't even try to stop me."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Lily, how are you already this excited when we haven't even entered the mall yet?"@@ @@.lily;"Excitement is a transcendent experience,"@@ she replies, striking a silly pose. You shake your head, smiling despite yourself, and fall into step beside her as the three of you make your way toward the mall entrance. The doors slide open with a soft whoosh, letting out a burst of cool, artificially scented air. Inside, the buzz of shoppers and background music mixes into a steady hum, familiar despite being a little overwhelming. Lily immediately kicks into high gear again. @@.lily;"Okay, now that we're actually inside, I have updates. Threadz has a sale where everything is only ten dollars. I don't even //like// that store, but just saying, it'd be irresponsible //not// to check it out. Also, I heard the sticker kiosk has Halloween sheets, and I need the ghost cats. Oh, and I'm making both of you try one of those milk teas with the weird little jelly stars in them. No escape."@@ You open your mouth to respond, but your mom gently places a hand on your arm. She's still smiling, but there's a softness in her eyes that makes you pause. There's a small inhale—the kind she does before saying something that's going to be a little difficult. @@.girl;"Hey, before we run off,"@@ she says gently, looking between you and Lily, @@.girl;"$name and I need to make a quick stop first."@@ Lily pauses mid-step, eyebrows raised. @@.lily;"Uh-oh."@@ Your mom smiles lightly. @@.girl;"It's nothing bad. Just... something we've been putting off, and I think it's time."@@ She turns toward you, her voice soft. @@.girl;"I thought we could go and get you fitted for a bra. Nothing flashy. Just something basic and comfortable to help support you."@@ You blink. It's not a total surprise, sure. But hearing her say it out loud, here in the middle of the mall, still sends a weird wave through your stomach. @@.girl;"I don't have a specific store,"@@ she adds, noticing your hesitation. @@.girl;"We'll pick a place that looks calm and quiet. If it feels off, we leave right away. But I thought... maybe it was time."@@ Lily shifts beside you, glancing at you with slightly widened eyes. She doesn't say anything—yet. <<if $acceptance > 19>>\ You exhale slowly. There's a strange flutter in your chest—part nerves, part something you can't name—but it's not dread. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Okay. I've been kinda wondering when we'd do that, anyway."@@ Your mom smiles, clearly relieved. @@.girl;"I didn't want to push, but I //am// glad. Just something simple. No pressure."@@ @@.player;"I'm not expecting lace and rhinestones or anything,"@@ you mutter, trying to keep it light. Lily blinks, then recovers fast. @@.lily;"Okay but, like, if they //do// have rhinestones, I'm going to be offended on your behalf if you don't try one."@@ You snort. @@.player;"You're definitely not coming."@@ @@.lily;"Wait, actually—"@@ she steps forward a little, her tone quieter now, almost hesitant. @@.lily;"Can I come too? I mean... not to be annoying or anything. I just thought it might be less weird if I'm there? I ''promise'' I won't say anything dumb. I'll be cool. Swear."@@ <<else>>\ You stop walking, your sneakers scuffing against the pavement. @@.player;"Wait. We're doing what now?"@@ Your mom turns fully toward you, gentle but steady. @@.girl;"Only if you want to, sweetie. But I do think it might help. Just one well-fitting thing can make things easier."@@ You don't want to make a scene. But part of you wants to run. Your mom doesn't rush you. @@.girl;"It's just a fitting. We don't have to buy anything, and we can walk out any time."@@ You nod slowly, reluctantly. @@.player;"Yeah. Fine. Just... can we make it quick?"@@ @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ she says gently. @@.girl;"No pressure. We got at your pace."@@ Then Lily, who's been quiet, clears her throat. @@.lily;"Hey. Could I come too?"@@ Her voice is unusually careful. @@.lily;"Not to bug you or, like, make it weird. I just... thought maybe it'd be less awful with me there. But only if you're cool with it. I swear I won't tease you or anything."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Let Lily tag along" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 4">>\<<set $d18bringlilybra to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_bringlilybra" "Let Lily tag along" "story">><</button>> <<button "No Lily today" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 4">>\<<set $d18bringlilybra to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_bringlilybra" "No Lily today" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18bringlilybra is true>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for a moment, heart thudding a little louder than it needs to. She's being sincere—you can tell. None of the usual sarcasm or smirking, just Lily standing there, not quite meeting your eyes but still waiting, still //asking// to be included. Not because she thinks it'll particularly be fun, but because she wants to show up for you. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah... okay. You can come."@@ Her head snaps up just slightly, and for a second she almost looks surprised—then she shrugs, all casual, like she hadn't just been bracing herself for a no. @@.lily;"Cool. I mean... yeah. I figured you'd say yes,"@@ she says, like it's no big deal. But her voice is a little too light, and there's a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth that she doesn't bother hiding. @@.lily;"After all, who //wouldn't// want me tagging along?"@@ Your mom raises an eyebrow at her. @@.girl;"You sure you'll behave?"@@ @@.lily;"Mom, I //always// behave,"@@ Lily replies, already stepping closer to you. @@.lily;"Besides, who else is gonna stop $name from panic-buying some neon pink disaster?"@@ @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you mutter, smirking. @@.player;"You're speaking as if you wouldn't dare me to wear that."@@ @@.lily;"I would,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"But only ironically."@@ Your mom shakes her head, but she's smiling now too. @@.girl;"Alright then. Let's go."@@ The three of you fall into step, heading down toward the bra store. Lily's arms swing just a little as she walks beside you, like she's trying not to look too proud of herself. But you can tell that she is. Not proud of herself, but proud to be with you. And even though your stomach still twists with nerves about what's ahead, the weight of it feels just a little lighter with her there. <<else>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You look at Lily, really look at her. You can tell she's not joking now. Her voice is soft, her eyes searching your face like she's trying to figure out the right thing to say without making it worse. She wants to come—not to mock or tease, but to just be there. To show up for you, even if she doesn't quite know how. But still... the thought of her seeing you in that space, vulnerable and uncertain, makes you feel uncomfortable. You can't do it. Not with her there. @@.player;"I... think I need to do this one on my own,"@@ you say quietly. There's a pause. @@.lily;"Oh."@@ She blinks, and you catch the flicker of hurt in her eyes before she lowers her gaze. @@.lily;"Yeah. No, totally. I figured."@@ Her voice is too light, too quick. She scratches the back of her neck. @@.lily;"I'll just... I don't know. Hang out."@@ Your mom starts to speak, but Lily cuts in before she can make it worse. @@.lily;"It's fine, Mom. I'll just go to the arcade or whatever. Pick me up when you're done."@@ She turns before you can say anything else, walking away fast. Her shoulders are a little hunched, her head down—not dramatic, not angry—just quiet. Dismissed. You feel it settle in your stomach like a rock. Your mom places a hand gently on your back. @@.girl;"We'll be quick,"@@ she reassures. @@.girl;"She'll be alright."@@ You nod, but you don't dare look back. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 5">><</button>>

<<if $d18bringlilybra is true>>\ As the three of you approach the store, the pale pink sign comes into view, glowing softly above the entrance. The mannequins in the display window are posed like they're mid-conversation, dressed in delicate bralettes and soft lounge sets, framed by curtains and fake flower petals. The lighting inside is warm and inviting, it makes the whole place feel like a secret. You feel your steps start to slow, like your feet suddenly remembered they have the power to stall. Your stomach tightens. There's nothing loud or scary about the store, and yet it frightens you. Your mom notices right away. She slows beside you, giving your arm a light squeeze. @@.girl;"Hey,"@@ she says gently, her voice low enough that only you and Lily can hear it. @@.girl;"Before we go in, how do you want me to introduce you?"@@ You glance at her. She gives you a small smile. @@.girl;"I just want to be respectful. The staff might offer help, or ask what you're looking for. Should I say you're a girl shopping for a bra? Or a guy who just happens to need one?"@@ The words hang in the air. Your heartbeat quickens. The idea of being referred to in either way feels huge—like whatever answer you choose becomes real in a way it hasn't been until now. A kind of declaration, you suppose. Lily, who had been a few steps ahead, stops short. She turns to you, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her hoodie. You expect a joke or some kind of deflection, but it doesn't come. She's quiet for a moment, her expression more serious than usual—eyes flicking between you and the store. @@.lily;"You should just pick the one that feels right,"@@ Lily finally says, her voice wobbling just a bit, like she's not totally sure how to phrase what she's trying to say. @@.lily;"I mean, like... not what's gonna make it less weird for other people. Just... whatever makes //you// feel normal. Or whatever. Even if it's not, like, technically normal."@@ She shifts her weight, eyes flicking down to the tiled floor. @@.lily;"I don't really get all of it, but... I guess I don't have to, right?"@@ There's an awkward pause, like she wants to say more but her brain's still trying to catch up to her mouth. Then, softer, almost like she didn't mean for it to be heard: @@.lily;"You always kind of did your own thing anyway."@@ You glance at her. She's messing with the drawstring on her hoodie now. @@.lily;"Like, remember when you made me wear those light-up sneakers to school in first grade? You said they'd make me run as fast as a superhero, and that that was proven by science. I tripped in front of the playground and got a grass stain on my face. But when no one wanted to sit with me at lunch, you left your fifth-grade table to sit with me anyway—even though I was crying and had fruit snacks melted in my hair."@@ You blink, caught off guard. Both by the memory and by the fact that she remembers it. @@.lily;"I dunno,"@@ she mumbles, her face scrunching up a little. It's as if she's annoyed with herself for being sentimental. @@.lily;"I just think it's still you, no matter what you wanna go by. Just say what feels right and I'll back you up. I mean... someone has to keep you from buying something with, like, sparkly unicorns or whatever."@@ You snort, and her smirk grows. Your mom glances between you both, patient and quiet, waiting. You look at the glowing store sign again. The mannequins don't seem quite as intimidating now. And neither does the choice. <<else>>\ As you and your mom near the store, the bright pink sign comes into view. There are sleek mannequins posed in window displays, lace and soft cotton, and the faint smell of perfume. You slow your steps just slightly, feet dragging in that unconscious way your body does when your brain's bracing for something unfamiliar. Your mom notices. She glances at you, then slows too. @@.girl;"Hey,"@@ she says quietly. @@.girl;"Before we go in, how do you want me to introduce you? The staff might offer help or ask what you're looking for."@@ You look up at her. @@.girl;"Do you want me to say you're a girl shopping for a bra? Or tell them you're a guy who needs one?"@@ The moment hangs there between you, suspended in the soft mall lighting. Your pulse quickens and your mouth feels dry, because either choice means being seen in a way you haven't been before. <</if>>\ <<button "Say you're a girl" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 6">>\<<set $d18momlilybrastore to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momlilybrastore" "Say you're a girl" "story">><</button>> <<button "Say you're a guy" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 6">>\<<set $d18momlilybrastore to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momlilybrastore" "Say you're a guy" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18bringlilybra is true>>\ <<if $d18momlilybrastore is true>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You hesitate, the words catching for a second on the edge of your tongue. But when they come out, they feel strange in the best way—like something you've never really let yourself say in full. @@.player;"...Just say I'm a girl."@@ Your voice is quiet, but steady. It surprises even you. Your mom gives you a warm, patient nod. @@.girl;"Alright. I will."@@ <<if $d7hairsister is true>>\ Lily's eyebrows flick up slightly. @@.lily;"Cool. Makes sense."@@ Then she flashes a crooked grin and adds, @@.lily;"I mean, you already stole my hair tie."@@ <<else>>\ Lily's eyebrows flick up slightly. @@.lily;"Cool. Makes sense."@@ <</if>>\ Your lips tug upward before you can stop them. There's this... weird flutter in your chest that you can't quite explain. It's not nerves or fear, but rather something lighter. Like something that was coiled tight in you just loosened a bit without asking permission. Lily bumps her shoulder lightly into yours. @@.lily;"You're making a weird face,"@@ she whispers. @@.lily;"Stop smiling or people are gonna think you like hanging out with me."@@ You try to wipe the grin off your face, but it keeps coming back. Your mom gives your hand a gentle squeeze. @@.girl;"Let's go, sweetie."@@ Warm light and soft music drift toward you as you step in the store. For once, you don't feel like you're walking into something you have to brace yourself for. You're just walking forward. <<else>>\ You glance at the glowing store sign, then quickly away again. There's a pressure building in your chest—tight, invisible, but there. Like the thought of being //seen// in a certain way is scarier than the actual fitting. You don't feel like a girl. You just feel trapped. You swallow and say, @@.player;"Whatever, just say I'm a girl."@@ Your mom's eyebrows lift slightly, like she's making sure she heard you right, but she nods without question. @@.girl;"Okay."@@ Lily doesn't say much either. @@.lily;"Yeah, that'll probably make it easier,"@@ she says shrugging. That's what this is all about, really. Making it easier. You don't want the store attendant to look at you funny. You don't want someone whispering behind the counter. You don't want to be asked questions you don't know how to answer. Saying you're a girl makes the whole thing faster, cleaner, less loud. But as you stare at the mannequins in the window, you feel a strange hollowness settle in your stomach. Not sadness. Not relief. Just... something missing. Like you gave the right answer, but not //your// answer. Lily nudges you lightly. @@.lily;"You okay?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Just wanna get this over with."@@ Your mom squeezes your shoulder. @@.girl;"We'll be in and out. You're doing great."@@ You don't feel like you are. But you walk toward the doors anyway. The light spills over you as they slide open, and you step into the store—wearing someone else's identity, just for now. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18momlilybrastore is false>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You take a breath and square your shoulders. The knot in your chest doesn't vanish, but it does settle—like a decision has finally clicked into place. @@.player;"I'm a guy,"@@ you say. @@.player;"A guy who needs a bra."@@ Your mom nods, no hesitation or judgment in her face. @@.girl;"Alright. That's what I'll tell them."@@ You glance at Lily, expecting her usual teasing smirk, but she just gives you a small shrug—like this isn't weird at all. @@.lily;"Honestly, that sounds kind of cool,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Guy walks into a bra store like, 'yeah, I need support.' Legendary."@@ You huff out a laugh despite yourself. The nerves are still there, but the moment feels less like a spotlight and more like a warm lamp, shared between the three of you. For now, for today, you're just walking into this as you are. Your mom gently taps your back. @@.girl;"Ready?"@@ You nod. The three of you step toward the entrance, the warm scent of fabric softener and soft music spilling out from behind the pink-lit glass doors. <<else>>\ You shift your weight from foot to foot, throat dry. The question hangs in the air like it's pressing in on you. You stare at the store, then at Lily, and finally at your mom. Finally, you mutter, @@.lily;"Just... tell them I'm a guy who needs a bra."@@ Your mom nods gently. @@.girl;"Of course."@@ She doesn't say more. She doesn't need to. @@.lily;"That's chill,"@@ Lily says after a pause. @@.lily;"I mean, who cares, right? It's not like they're going to kick you out. A sale's a sale."@@ You nod, but it's mechanical. It doesn't feel chill. It doesn't feel like anything you want. You ''hate'' that this is something you have to do. That your body keeps shifting on you, like it's in on a joke no one told you. Everything feels murky—like standing waist-deep in a lake you didn't mean to walk into, too far to turn around yet too cold to pretend you're not shivering. Your mom touches your arm. @@.girl;"We'll go in, check sizes, and leave. That's it."@@ You nod again. It's all you can manage. Lily doesn't say anything else, but she walks a little closer as the three of you step forward. You don't know if it's on purpose. You don't even know if it matters. The pink glow of the store washes over you as the doors draw near, the scent of soft cotton and perfume curling into the air like a reminder: you're going in—whether you like it or not. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d18momlilybrastore is true>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You hesitate for only a second, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, heart thudding with a nervous rhythm that feels... weirdly good. The store is just ahead and it should feel terrifying. A month ago, maybe even a week ago, it would've been. But now? Now your skin's buzzing with anticipation. @@.player;"I mean..."@@ you shrug, feigning disinterest. Your smile is creeping in anyway, tugging at the corners of your mouth before you can stop it. @@.player;"Just say I'm a girl. Easier that way."@@ You glance at your mom—just briefly—and catch her watching you with the tiniest spark in her eyes. She knows. She sees the flush creeping up your neck and the way you twiddle your fingers. She doesn't say anything, opting to just give you a smile. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Let's get you fitted then."@@ You swallow the grin threatening to spill over and nod like it's nothing. Your fingers twitch at your sides as you follow her, stepping into the softly lit store that feels less like enemy territory and more like something else. Your cheeks are warm. Your heart is loud. But you don't look back. <<else>>\ You shift your weight, eyes fixed on the floor just past your mom's shoes. Your throat feels tight, like there's something stuck halfway up it. Words, maybe, or pressure. You don't want to be here. Not really. Not in this store. Not in this body that keeps changing no matter how hard you try to pretend it's not. The bra part? Fine. You'll deal with it. But the idea of saying you're a guy who needs one—of hearing someone else respond to that—makes your stomach twist. You let out a breath, eyes still down. @@.player;"...Just say I'm a girl,"@@ you mutter. Your mom doesn't react right away, but it's clear she's not buying it. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says finally. @@.girl;"If that's what you want."@@ You nod, but the motion feels hollow. You don't //want// it, exactly. It's just easier. Something to put between you and the awkward stares or the confused looks or the polite questions with too much kindness behind them. You're not here to make a statement. @@.player;"Let's just get in and out,"@@ you add. Your mom gives a soft hum of understanding, and the two of you move forward again, stepping toward the open glass doors and the soft hum of pop music playing just inside. You don't look up as you cross the threshold, pretending this is just another store. Another task. But it's not. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18momlilybrastore is false>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You stand outside of the store, the soft glow of its display lights casting across the tile. Your mom's voice still seems to linger in the air. The question she asked sinks into your chest. You glance down at your hands, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve, then up at the storefront again. Lace and cotton and soft colors. Everything you're not //supposed// to want. But you do. Or at least... you think you do. You've stopped pretending the changes don't matter. The way your reflection sometimes feels like it's catching up to something you've never said out loud. You bite the inside of your cheek, then look at your mom. @@.player;"Tell them the truth, I guess,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm a guy. A guy who just... happens to need a bra."@@ She doesn't blink, flinch or question. @@.girl;"Got it,"@@ she says, nodding. You stand a little straighter. It still feels scary—walking into a space not really built for you. But it also feels honest. You're taking a step toward something that's been waiting for you. The two of you cross the threshold together, the soft scent of perfume filling your nose. This is it. <<else>>\ You stare at the floor tiles past your feet, your shoulders tensing under your top. The question lingers in the air like a held breath. You feel the heat rise in your neck, not from embarrassment, exactly, but from something murkier—resentment, maybe. The way your body's been shifting lately hasn't been subtle, and ignoring it stopped working a while ago. But saying it out loud still feels like rubbing salt on the wound. You take a breath through your nose and let it out slowly. @@.player;"Just tell them the truth,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"I'm a guy."@@ Your mom nods. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"That's what I'll do."@@ You appreciate that she doesn't make it into a moment. No hand on your shoulder or reaffirming words, just a quiet respect. That's exactly what you need right now. The two of you approach the storefront together. You swallow, straighten your back, and step through the entrance. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 7">><</button>>

<<if $d18bringlilybra is true>>\ The air shifts the moment the three of you step into the store. It's warmer inside than the mall corridor, tinged with floral perfume and a soft trace of vanilla that seems baked into the walls. The lighting is low and warm, the kind that makes everything look softer, slower. Even the way the displays are arranged feels intentional—gentle and careful, like the whole place is trying to wrap you in a quiet hug. Lace and cotton bralettes line the walls in neat pastel rows, some folded, some hung. A few mannequins stand nearby in coordinated sets, posed like they know exactly what they're doing here. You instinctively shift a little closer to your mom, who places two calm, steady hands on your shoulders. The silent gesture tells you she's here, she's got you, and that alone helps more than you'd ever admit. Lily walks just a step ahead of you, scanning the displays like she already knows the layout—and, of course, she does. @@.lily;"Oh, they moved the clearance rack,"@@ she mutters under her breath, half to herself, half to you. @@.lily;"It used to be near the back. They had this ridiculous cactus print bra I made my friend buy. It had, like, glittery spines."@@ Despite everything, your mouth twitches. She glances back, notices your look, and shrugs. @@.lily;"What? I have taste."@@ Before you can say anything, a store associate spots you from behind the counter and walks over. She looks like she's in her late twenties, with sleek hair pulled into a low bun and a name tag that reads Riley. Her smile is calm and practiced, but not fake—like she actually means it. @@.girl;"Hi there,"@@ she says warmly, tone polite but genuinely friendly. @@.girl;"Can I help you find anything today?"@@ <<if $d18momlilybrastore is true>>\ Your mom steps forward just slightly, her tone light and easy. @@.girl;"Yeah, actually. We're looking to do a fitting today as my child hasn't had a proper one yet."@@ Riley's gaze flicks between the three of you, and she naturally lands on Lily. Her smile brightens. @@.girl;"Of course! We can help you find something comfortable. First fittings are always a little tricky, but we'll make it easy."@@ Lily blinks. @@.lily;"Oh—uh—"@@ she starts, but your mom gently steps in with a soft chuckle. @@.girl;"Oh, not her,"@@ she says, gesturing toward you. @@.girl;"My older daughter."@@ Riley's expression falters for only half a second—just the briefest flicker of recalibration—but then it smooths out as quickly as it came. Her voice stays calm and professional. @@.girl;"Got it,"@@ she says with an easy nod. @@.girl;"No problem at all. We'll take good care of you."@@ The tight knot in your stomach loosens, just a little. You hadn't realized you'd tensed up until now. <<else>>\ Your mom steps forward with a calm, even tone, like she's asking about socks and not getting her son a bra. @@.girl;"This is my son,"@@ she says, with a little nod toward you. @@.girl;"He's looking to get fitted for a bra. First time, and... well, we figured it was time to stop guessing."@@ Something in your chest coils tight. For just a second, you brace—waiting for a flicker in Riley's expression. A raised brow. A confused smile. ''Something.'' But it never comes. Riley just nods, like this happens every other week here. @@.girl;"Got it,"@@ she says, smooth and steady. @@.girl;"We can definitely help with that."@@ No weird looks. No hesitation. No moment. Just a warm, practiced smile and a kind of professionalism that makes it clear that you're not out of place here. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Next to you, Lily crosses her arms and mutters just loud enough for you to hear, @@.lily;"See? Chill store."@@ You don't answer, but your shoulder brushes hers. <</if>>\ Riley gestures toward a hallway in the back, where soft lighting glows above a neat row of fitting room doors. It's quieter back there, tucked away behind racks of folded bralettes and hanging cotton sets in muted tones. The air smells of linen and warm perfume. @@.girl;"If you'd like, we can do a fitting back here,"@@ she says gently. @@.girl;"It's just some measurements, and there's no pressure to buy anything if you're not ready. We'll find something comfortable and supportive. You can follow me whenever you're ready."@@ She gives you a reassuring nod before turning and walking a few steps ahead, giving you space to decide. Your eyes flick to your mom, who stands just behind you, one hand resting lightly on the strap of her purse. She's watching you with that soft, waiting expression she wears when she doesn't want to sway your choice—but wants you to know she's there. Then you glance at Lily. She's lingering off to the side, pretending to study a display of limited-edition bras shaped like clouds, but she's ''definitely'' eavesdropping. When she catches you looking, she just raises one eyebrow, as if to ask if you're good. You don't know if you are. The hallway suddenly feels longer than it is. The room behind that curtain feels a million miles away. Your thoughts spin with something heavy. Do you want your mom to come with you—be that steady voice when you're not sure what to say? Or should you go alone and prove that you can handle this yourself? Lily doesn't say anything, but her gaze lingers. Quiet. Waiting. <<else>>\ The air immediately shifts as you step into the store. It's tinged with floral perfume and faint traces of vanilla. The lighting is warm, almost cozy, and everything about the space feels deliberately gentle—like even the design is trying to put you at ease. Lacy displays line the front, pastel bras folded and hung in precise rows. A few mannequins stand off to the side wearing matching sets like they know exactly what they're doing here. You shift a little closer to your mom, who places a reassuring hand between your shoulder blades, steering you further in with a calmness that helps more than you'd admit. A store associate—probably late twenties, with sleek hair in a low bun and a name tag that says Riley—spots you from behind the counter and walks over with a practiced smile. @@.girl;"Hi there,"@@ she says, her tone friendly and professional. @@.girl;"Can I help you find anything today?"@@ <<if $d18momlilybrastore is true>>\ Your mom steps forward just slightly, keeping her voice light. @@.girl;"Yeah, actually. This is my daughter and she hasn't had a proper fitting yet. I figured it was time, I don't know how we hadn't already gotten around to it."@@ You feel your stomach tighten for a second, but Riley just nods with a smile that doesn't flicker. @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ she says, like it's the most normal thing in the world. @@.girl;"We can absolutely help with that."@@ <<elseif $d18momlilybrastore is false>>\ Your mom steps forward, her voice steady and casual. @@.girl;"This is my son and he's looking to get fitted for a bra. First time, and... well, we figured it was time to stop guessing."@@ For a half-second, something tightens in your chest. You brace for a reaction, some kind of flicker in Riley's expression—a double take, confusion, anything. But she doesn't even blink. @@.girl;"Got it,"@@ she says smoothly, her smile just as warm and unfazed. @@.girl;"We can definitely help with that."@@ No weird looks. No awkward pause. Just acceptance, like this is exactly as normal as it should be. You let out a sigh of relief. <</if>>\ She gestures toward a hallway in the back, where the fitting rooms are. @@.girl;"If you'd like, we can do a fitting back here,"@@ Riley says. @@.girl;"It's simple—just measurements, no pressure to buy anything if you're not ready. We'll find something comfortable and supportive. You can follow me when you're ready."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Ask your mom to come with you" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 8">>\<<set $d18momlilybrastorecompany to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momlilybrastorecompany" "Ask your mom to come with you" "story">><</button>> <<button "Go in alone" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 8">>\<<set $d18momlilybrastorecompany to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momlilybrastorecompany" "Go in alone" "story">><</button>> <<if $d18bringlilybra is true>>\ <<button "Ask both of them to come with you" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 8">>\<<set $d18momlilybrastorecompany to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momlilybrastorecompany" "Ask both of them to come with you" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $topoff to true>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<if $d18momlilybrastorecompany is 0>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You look ahead at the softly lit hallway leading to the fitting room, your heart picking up pace again. The idea of walking back there alone—stepping behind that door, stripping off layers while someone measures your body—makes your chest feel tight in a way that has nothing to do with fabric. You glance at your Mom, then Lily beside her. She's moved on from pretending to be really interested in the bras shaped like clouds to the bras shaped like cupcakes. Her eyes keep flicking back to you though, like she's trying to give you space and still be there at the same time. Your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to. @@.player;"Mom, can you... come with me?"@@ Your mom meets your gaze right away, and her expression softens. @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ she says, no hesitation. Lily looks up too, then quickly looks away again. @@.lily;"I'll stay out here,"@@ she mumbles, trying to sound casual. @@.lily;"Not like I'm dying to hear about your cup size or anything. But I'll be here just in case."@@ You follow Riley through the hallway, past racks of soft bralettes and lounge sets. She stops in front of a small room with a plush bench, mirror, and a tiny hook on the wall. @@.girl;"I'll step out and grab a measuring tape,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Just take your time getting ready."@@ She closes the door behind her with a soft click, and you and your mom are left in the small, warmly lit space. She gives you room—just enough—but she's there. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You tug your top off slowly, already dreading the part where you'll have to explain. The binder is snug against your skin, a gift from Coach Blake. It compresses well enough, but you've had it for a while now, and your ribs have definitely noticed. Your mom watches you carefully. She doesn't comment at first, which you're grateful for. After a moment, she says softly, @@.girl;"Is that... comfortable?"@@ You don't look at her as you shrug. @@.player;"Not really, but it does work."@@ She nods, not pushing. @@.girl;"While I am proud of you for being honest, let's find something that doesn't hurt. Something that supports you, not just flattens."@@ You keep your eyes on the mirror, jaw tight. The binder has been armor for so long, you almost forgot it wasn't supposed to hurt. <<else>>\ You take a deep breath and pull off your top, revealing the folded towel you've wrapped around your chest—looped and knotted under your shirt like the improvised, desperate solution it is. It's tight. Too tight. Your ribs ache from it. You didn't want to wear it, but your other options didn't feel safe either. Your mom's expression flickers—just for a second—but she hides it quickly behind calm concern. She steps a little closer, voice low. @@.girl;"Sweetheart... how long have you been doing that?"@@ You grimace, adjusting the knot. @@.player;"For a while now. I didn't want anyone to notice."@@ Her hand hovers, then gently rests on your shoulder. @@.girl;"Okay. First, we are ''not'' doing this anymore. You don't have to. We'll find something that fits. Something real. And you don't ever have to hurt yourself just to feel safe, okay?"@@ You nod. She doesn't press. A pressure in your chest lifts, figuratively and literally. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ You pull off your top and glance at the mirror. For a second, you almost expect to see something different something more—but your chest is still flat. Completely. No curves, no weight, nothing to hide or support. Your mom peeks over and gives a small, thoughtful nod. @@.girl;"Still flat, huh?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Yeah. Nothing's really changed there."@@ @@.girl;"That's okay,"@@ your mom says, smiling gently. @@.girl;"Still good to have something."@@ You nod. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ You peel off your top, tugging it over your head, and adjust the hem of your plain sports bra underneath. It's one you got as a gift, and it doesn't //really// flatten or support much. Your mom glances over and gives a soft, approving nod. @@.girl;"That's not a bad one. Has it been comfortable?"@@ You shrug, adjusting the strap on your shoulder. @@.player;"Mostly."@@ She smiles. @@.girl;"Well, we'll find something better. Something that doesn't just squish everything down."@@ <<else>>\ You slowly pull your top over your head, heart beating faster than it should as you feel your skin meet the air. No binder. No bra. Just you, completely exposed in front of your mom. Your chest has changed. You've known that for a while now. The shape, the weight, the way shirts fit lately—it's been slowly becoming something you can't ignore. Your mom watches you with that same gentleness. @@.girl;"Thanks for letting me come in with you,"@@ she says quietly, like she knows you're fighting through a wave of complicated feelings. You nod once, arms automatically crossing over your chest. @@.player;"I just... didn't want to explain anything to a stranger."@@ @@.girl;"You don't have to,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"We're just here to find what feels right."@@ You slowly uncross your arms. You're not ready, but you are trying. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ There's a gentle knock at the fitting room door. @@.girl;"Hey, it's Riley,"@@ comes her calm voice. @@.girl;"Ready for me to come in for the fitting?"@@ You swallow, barely managing a quiet, @@.player;"Yeah."@@ Riley steps into the fitting room with practiced ease, a measuring tape in her hands. She glances at both you and your mom, then gestures lightly. @@.girl;"We'll just do a quick measurement. No pressure to commit to anything—this is just to get a baseline so we can find what feels right, okay?"@@ You nod, heart fluttering slightly, even if you try not to show it. Your mom steps back to give you two space, and Riley gently motions for your arms to lift a little. @@.girl;"Arms relaxed. Just let me guide the tape—should only take a few seconds."@@ You breathe in quietly, and she gets to work. <<if $breastsProg is 3>>\ The moment the tape wraps around the fullest part of your chest, you feel your face flush. You know you've changed—your shirt's been fitting differently for ages—but having someone measure it makes it feel official. Like proof. Riley doesn't react at all, simply checking the tape, adjusting the band level beneath your chest, and recording the numbers like it's no different than measuring your shoe size. She steps back with a small smile. @@.girl;"You're measuring at a 36B."@@ You blink. You hadn't expected them to be that... solid. @@.girl;"That puts you in the medium-support range,"@@ she explains. @@.girl;"You've got enough natural shape that you'll probably feel best in lightly structured cups. We can do soft underwire, or go wireless with shaping seams. I'll grab a few styles with a smooth finish. Trust me, you'll ''definitely'' notice the difference in comfort."@@ @@.player;"Yeah. Let's try,"@@ you say. Riley nods and excuses herself to grab a few starter styles, leaving you and your mom in the soft quiet of the fitting room. <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ The measuring tape brushes across your chest and it's... undeniable now. There's something there. Not huge or obvious, but it's real. The soft curve of your chest presses just enough into the tape that you feel the shift in numbers as Riley gently notes them. She doesn't blink. Doesn't hesitate. Her movements are calm and routine. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says after a few seconds. @@.girl;"You're measuring at a 34A."@@ Your heart skips a beat. You expected the A, maybe, but didn't expect to hear it said out loud like that. @@.girl;"That means you've got a light cup size, but enough to benefit from a bit of support,"@@ she continues, unfazed. @@.girl;"We'll start with soft cup bras—ones that offer lift and shape without any stiffness. There's no bulk or weird padding, just something to make you feel secure."@@ Your mom nods thoughtfully beside you. @@.girl;"That sounds perfect."@@ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ <<else>>\ Riley places the tape snugly under your chest first, reading the band size with a quick flick of her eyes. Then she shifts it higher, across where the breast tissue //would// be, but there's nothing there. She finishes the measurement without hesitation, jotting something down on the corner of her notepad. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says with a smile, standing straight. @@.girl;"You're measuring at a 32AA. That means you're in the ultra-light support category. Nothing with underwire unless you want it—some soft bralettes or compression-friendly options will probably feel best."@@ You nod slowly. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18momlilybrastorecompany is 1>>\ You glance toward the softly lit hallway. The idea of going back there alone, having your chest measured by a stranger—it's nerve-wracking, yeah. But not impossible. You can handle it. You've handled worse. @@.player;"I've got this,"@@ you murmur, more to yourself than anyone else. Your mom studies your face for a second, then gives a small, proud nod. @@.girl;"Alright. I'll be right here if you need me."@@ @@.lily;"Same,"@@ Lily pipes up from beside her. @@.lily;"I mean, I'm not gonna, like, cheer or anything. But I won't run off to buy the strawberry hat I really want."@@ You give them a quick smile, then go down the hallway alone. The fitting rooms are warm and softly lit, with pale pink walls and a plush bench. As you step inside and close the door behind you, the quiet settles in. Now it's just you and the mirror. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You pull your top off slowly, already feeling the pressure from the tight, black binder beneath it. It clings to your chest, compressing everything into place like armor. It's familiar, and you've been relying on it for a while now. It works for the most part. But standing under this soft lighting, in this space that's supposed to be about fit and comfort, the way the binder presses into your ribs, suddenly feeling too sharp. Too restrictive. You twist side to side, stretching a little, wincing as the fabric digs in. You catch your reflection in the mirror. The binder gives you shape, or rather, takes shape away. But it also takes ease with it. You don't hate it, but you're not sure if you want to keep wearing something that hurts to feel okay. <<else>>\ You tug your hoodie over your head slowly, wincing as the rough knot of fabric digs into your ribs. The towel you've wrapped around your chest is tight—too tight—but it's the only thing you have. As you undo the makeshift binding, the pressure lifts suddenly, leaving behind a dull ache and a faint red mark. You look at yourself in the mirror and feel both exposed and strangely relieved. The towel was always a temporary solution. You knew that. It was never meant to last, it was just supposed to get you here. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ Your shirt comes off easily, the fabric light over your still-flat chest. There's no curve to hide. Your torso is smooth and angular, the way it's always been, even as everything else seems to keep shifting around you. You glance at your reflection, expecting to feel small. But you don't. Not quite. You don't need a bra for support, at least not yet. But you're here anyway, and it never hurts to get one just in case. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ You lift your top and tug it off in one smooth motion, revealing the snug band of your sports bra underneath. It's plain, and was a gift from someone who thought you'd need it. It does the job, pressing down just enough that you don't think about it too much during the day. You glance at the mirror and run your fingers under the band. It's not uncomfortable, but it's not great either. It's... functional. But you want comfortable. <<else>>\ You pull your shirt over your head slowly, revealing your bare chest underneath. You don't have a bra, or a binder, or anything. Your breasts are soft and visible, a quiet presence that's been increasingly harder to ignore. You came here for a reason. To stop pretending this isn't happening and to be comfortable. Maybe it's time to stop pretending that real is something to be afraid of. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ There's a gentle knock at the fitting room door. @@.girl;"Hey, it's Riley,"@@ comes her calm voice. @@.girl;"Ready for me to come in for the fitting?"@@ You swallow, barely managing a quiet, @@.player;"Yeah."@@ The door opens and Riley steps inside with a soft smile and a flexible measuring tape looped around her neck. She closes the door gently behind her, moving with a practiced confidence. It's clear she's done this a thousand times and isn't about to make it weird. @@.girl;"No stress,"@@ she says lightly. @@.girl;"It'll just be two quick measurements—should only take a second. Relax your arms for me?"@@ You nod and stand a little straighter, heart fluttering just beneath your skin. <<if $breastsProg is 3>>\ Riley starts with the band measurement—firm but gentle as she wraps the tape beneath your chest. Then she moves upward, looping it carefully around the fullest part of your chest. You feel the heat in your cheeks rise. There is ''definitely'' no hiding the size now. Riley finishes and pulls back with a nod. @@.girl;"You're measuring at a 36B,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"That means you'll probably want medium support—something with shaping, maybe a soft underwire. But there's no pressure to go structured unless you want it."@@ You blink. @@.player;"B?"@@ you repeat in a whisper. @@.girl;"Yep,"@@ she says, unfazed. @@.girl;"That's totally normal. You don't have to hide anything, but you don't have to show anything either. Just choose what feels right to you."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"That... helps."@@ <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ Riley wraps the measuring tape beneath your chest first, the soft edge resting against your ribs. She calls out the band size, then moves it upward, gently looping it across the curve of your chest. There's just enough pressure to feel, not enough to squeeze. You can't help noticing how much //more// there is than there used to be. She just reads the number, pulls back, and smiles. @@.girl;"You're a 34A,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Which means you've got some shape but you're still in the lighter support zone. I'll bring you soft cups, maybe one with some lining if you're curious about it."@@ You nod, arms hovering awkwardly at your sides. @@.girl;"You've got options here,"@@ she adds. @@.girl;"You don't have to hide anything, but you don't have to show anything either. Just choose what feels right to you."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"That... helps."@@ <<else>>\ Riley steps in front of you and wraps the measuring tape around your ribcage, right beneath your chest. It settles there without any resistance—just skin and bone, no curve to measure. She calls out a quiet number under her breath before shifting the tape upward across the flattest part of your chest. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, straightening. @@.girl;"You're measuring around a 32AA. That puts you in a flat-fit or soft bralette category. Just something comfortable and light."@@ You nod, exhaling slowly. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18momlilybrastorecompany is 2>>\ You glance down the softly lit hallway again, that warm glow doing little to calm the twisting in your stomach. Your palms feel clammy, and your heart thuds faster even though you haven't taken a single step. You look at your mom—steady, calm, always waiting without pushing. Then you look at Lily, who's half-distractedly flipping through a display of wireless bras shaped like pastel donuts. She's not even pretending to be subtle about watching you out of the corner of her eye. You swallow hard. @@.player;"This might sound weird, but can you both come with me?"@@ There's a beat of silence. Your mom's expression softens instantly, but Lily's eyebrows shoot up like you just asked her to walk into a volcano. @@.lily;"Wait, me?"@@ she asks, blinking. @@.lily;"In there? With you? And, like, bras?"@@ You nod, a little embarrassed. @@.player;"Yeah. Just... I don't know. It'd help."@@ Lily blinks again, stunned into silence for a second—an actual miracle. Then, slowly, her mouth pulls into a grin. @@.lily;"Wow. You want me of all people to emotionally support you while you try on underwire. This is either the best day of my life or the weirdest."@@ @@.player;"You coming or not?"@@ you ask, giving her a look. @@.lily;"Oh, I'm coming,"@@ she says, grabbing her bag dramatically like she's suiting up for battle. @@.lily;"If you pass out from sheer boob-related panic, I reserve the right to mock you. Only a little, though. I'm kind."@@ Your mom lets out a breath of laughter, gently touching your back. @@.girl;"Alright, you two. Let's go."@@ Riley, still nearby, catches your little group as you approach the hallway. She looks only mildly surprised that there are now three of you heading toward the fitting rooms, but she handles it like a pro. @@.girl;"Come on back,"@@ she says with a nod, gesturing toward one of the open rooms near the end. @@.girl;"You can all go in—it's a roomy one. I'll grab a measuring tape and be back in just a minute. Take your time getting settled, and I ''promise'' we'll find something that feels good."@@ The space is small but cozy—soft bench and mirror. A little warm, maybe, but not suffocating. Riley steps back toward the front of the store, her footsteps fading. @@.girl;"I'll be right back,"@@ she calls. @@.girl;"Don't stress, this part's easy."@@ And just like that, you're alone in the fitting room with your mom and sister. Lily immediately takes up residence on the little bench and crosses her legs like she owns the place. @@.lily;"So,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"This is what sibling bonding looks like."@@ <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You pull your top over your head slowly—half because the fabric clings awkwardly, half because you're already dreading the conversation that's about to follow. The binder beneath clings tighter. It's been your go-to for a while now, a worn but reliable gift from Coach Blake, handed off with a quiet nod and zero judgment whatsoever. It does its job—keep things flat, contained—but the longer you wear it, the more your ribs ache in the background, like a warning you're used to ignoring. Lily, sitting on the small bench, falls uncharacteristically quiet. You catch her eyes flicking up for half a second before darting back down to her sneakers. She doesn't say anything. Not yet. Your mom watches too, her expression unreadable for a moment. She folds her arms loosely, her gaze softening. @@.girl;"Is that..."@@ she begins gently, choosing her words, @@.girl;"comfortable?"@@ You don't meet her eyes. You don't know if you //can//. @@.player;"Not really,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"But it works."@@ Lily shifts, letting out a quiet breath. @@.lily;"You've been wearing that this whole time?"@@ she asks, glancing up again. @@.lily;"Dude, no wonder you're so grumpy."@@ You give her a look, but your lips twitch despite yourself. Your mom steps closer but doesn't touch you—just stands near you. @@.girl;"I'm proud of you for being honest, $name,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"But let's see if we can find something that helps without hurting. Something that supports you... not just hides you."@@ You don't say anything at first. You're staring at your reflection instead—the binder's flat lines, the faint indent it's carved just under your ribs. It's been armor for so long that you almost forgot armor isn't supposed to leave bruises. Lily leans back on her hands, kicking her foot gently. @@.lily;"If someone makes a binder that doesn't feel like a medieval torture device, you should totally get it."@@ You hesitate for a moment, fingers hooked under the edge of the binder. It's second nature by now—the way it sticks a little, the way your breath shifts once it's gone. You glance at the mirror one last time, jaw tight, then pull it up and over your head in one motion. The relief is instant and uncomfortable all at once. Your ribs expand without resistance, your shoulders drop a fraction. But you do also feel exposed, and not just physically. You fold the binder and place it neatly on the bench beside Lily, who glances at it and then up at you. She doesn't say anything. You're not sure what she would even say. Your mom offers a soft smile from where she stands by the wall. @@.girl;"We'll find something that feels better than that. I promise."@@ You nod. <<else>>\ You take a slow, bracing breath and tug your shirt over your head, the fabric catching slightly on the knot underneath. The towel you've wrapped around your chest unravels just a little with the motion, pulling tighter against your ribs before slipping slightly askew. It's rough, twisted, and too tight in all the wrong ways. You feel the sting of where it's been digging into your skin all day, the ache in your back, the tension beneath your sternum. It was the only thing that feels even remotely safe lately. A rushed, desperate fix when your options were between this, nothing, or confronting something you're still not sure you're ready to name. When the towel finally falls still against your skin, there's a heavy silence in the room. Lily lets out a low breath from where she's sitting. @@.lily;"Okay, that looks... intense,"@@ she says, not mocking—just surprised. @@.lily;"Have you seriously been walking around like that all day?"@@ You nod, eyes on the floor. Your mom doesn't say anything right away. But her face—her whole posture—shifts. There's a flicker in her eyes, something sharp and protective, and then she turns it back down into calm. She steps closer, voice low but firm. @@.girl;"Sweetheart,"@@ she says gently, @@.girl;"how long have you been doing that?"@@ You fidget with the knot, pretending it'll make it more comfortable. @@.player;"A while,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Didn't want people to notice. Or look. Or... whatever."@@ Lily shifts again on the bench, her voice quieter now. @@.lily;"You didn't have to do that alone, you know."@@ She doesn't meet your eyes when she says it. You give her a weak shrug. @@.player;"I didn't really know what else to do."@@ Your mom's hand hovers for a moment, then rests gently on your shoulder—warm and grounding. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Well, we're not doing this anymore. No more towels. No more hurting yourself just to feel like you can walk outside."@@ You finally look up. @@.girl;"We'll find something that works,"@@ she adds. @@.girl;"Something that fits you. And until then, we figure it out together. Alright?"@@ Your throat tightens, but you nod. You don't trust your voice to work quite yet. Lily stands up from the bench like she's had enough of the silence. @@.lily;"Good. Because that towel looks like something you wrestled out of the lost and found."@@ She pauses, then adds. @@.lily;"We'll find you something better. Like, something with actual stitching."@@ You huff out a half-laugh, more breath than sound, but it helps. It lifts something off your chest—even if only a little. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ You pull your top over your head and glance toward the mirror. For a split second, some small, irrational part of you expects something different—something new or unfamiliar. But it's still you. Still flat. No real curve, no weight, nothing to lift or shape or press down. Just skin, smooth and unchanged. Your mom steps a little closer, eyes scanning gently. She gives a soft, thoughtful nod. @@.girl;"Still flat, huh?"@@ You shrug, arms folded over your chest. @@.player;"Yeah. Nothing's really changed there."@@ She smiles, warm and easy. @@.girl;"That's okay. Still good to have something. You never know when your body decides to surprise you."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Good to be prepared."@@ <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ You peel off your top, tugging it slowly over your head. Beneath, your plain black sports bra clings awkwardly—not tight enough to flatten much, not structured enough to offer support. It doesn't really do as much as it should, but you wear it anyway because it's what you have. You adjust the hem where it's riding up slightly and shift the straps on your shoulders, the elastic already a little worn. Your mom watches from nearby, arms folded loosely. @@.girl;"That one's not bad,"@@ she says softly. @@.girl;"Has it been comfortable?"@@ You glance at the mirror, then down at yourself. @@.player;"Mostly,"@@ you say, adjusting the strap again. She nods, stepping closer, her voice gentle. @@.girl;"We'll find something better. Something made for you. Not something you have to just settle with."@@ You nod, unsure how to respond, and glance toward Lily. She's still perched on the bench, her arms wrapped around one knee, gaze soft as it flicks from you to the sports bra and back again. @@.lily;"That looks uncomfortable,"@@ she says gently. @@.lily;"Like, not terrible, but... not right either."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It's what I had."@@ She nods slowly, chewing on the inside of her cheek like she's thinking hard before speaking. @@.lily;"We'll find you something better. I mean, you shouldn't have to feel weird in your own clothes, right?"@@ There's no sarcasm in her tone. It's just Lily, being as sincere as a fourteen-year-old can manage without combusting. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"Also, do you, um... want me to look away or something?"@@ she adds quickly, glancing toward the wall. @@.lily;"I don't mind."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"It's fine."@@ You reach back and unclasp the bra—simple, practiced—and slip it off, folding it and setting it on the bench beside you. The air feels colder against your skin now, goosebumps rising instantly, but the silence in the room stays gentle. No one's rushing you. No one's staring. Your mom gives you a quiet nod, stepping back to give a little space. <<else>>\ You slowly pull your top over your head, heart thudding faster than it should, the fabric catching slightly before sliding free. The air hits your skin immediately—cool, unfamiliar. No binder. No bra. Just you, bare-chested and exposed in the soft, quiet light of the fitting room. You've done this before—looked in the mirror, seen the changes—but it still hits differently in a room like this. Somewhere official. Somewhere where things might actually be named. Your chest isn't flat. Hasn't been for a while. You've felt it in the way shirts hug tighter, in the way your hoodie zips up funny now, in the glances you catch from other people—sometimes confused, sometimes not. You ''know'' they've grown. You've just avoided really looking until now. Your arms fold over your chest almost on instinct. Not from shame, exactly, but habit. Protection. Muscle memory. Your mom doesn't move toward you, doesn't say anything too quickly. She's standing just a few steps away, giving you room, eyes calm and steady. @@.girl;"You don't have to explain anything,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"We're just here to find something that feels okay."@@ Lily sits quietly on the little bench, legs pulled up and crossed, her fingers twisting the strings of her hoodie into tight knots. @@.lily;"I didn't know you weren't... wearing anything,"@@ she finally says, voice small. @@.lily;"Like, under your shirt. That had to be kinda uncomfortable, right?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It was fine."@@ She nods, chewing the inside of her cheek. @@.lily;"Still. That's rough."@@ There's a pause. @@.lily;"You ever get, like... stared at?"@@ You don't answer right away. @@.player;"Sometimes,"@@ you admit finally. Lily frowns. @@.lily;"That sucks."@@ <</if>>\ There's a soft knock on the fitting room door. @@.girl;"Hey,"@@ comes Riley's voice from the other side, friendly and light. @@.girl;"Is your little group in there all set?"@@ You swallow hard, throat tight. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you manage—just barely loud enough to be heard. There's a soft knock, then the door creaks open. Riley steps inside with a practiced grace, the flexible measuring tape looped casually around her neck like a stethoscope. She closes the door behind her with a quiet //click//, her smile gentle and professional—no big reactions or weird energy. Just calm confidence, like this is something she does every day. Because it is. You feel the air shift slightly with her entrance, but it's not uncomfortable. Just real. @@.girl;"Hey again,"@@ Riley says, her voice soft but upbeat. @@.girl;"No stress, okay? It'll be two quick measurements—just a few seconds. I promise there'll be nothing dramatic."@@ You nod, your arms still hovering awkwardly by your sides. Riley steps a little closer, tilting her head. @@.girl;"Relax your arms for me?"@@ You hesitate for a breath, then let your arms drop slowly. Your heart's still fluttering, thumping just under your skin like it wants to bolt. You're suddenly hyper-aware of your chest, even though no one in this room is reacting like it's anything strange. Your mom stands nearby, calm as ever, giving you just enough space to feel in control. Lily, still curled up on the bench, watches you with a quiet intensity. She doesn't say anything, but her hoodie sleeves are pulled halfway over her hands, and her knees are pulled up like she's trying not to fidget. She offers the tiniest nod when you glance her way—barely a movement, but it's there. You don't say anything back, but your spine straightens just a little. @@.girl;"Perfect,"@@ Riley says, stepping forward and gently unlooping the tape from around her neck. @@.girl;"I'll start with the band size—right under the chest, nice and easy."@@ She's talking like it's just another Thursday. Like this is as ordinary as shoe shopping. And maybe for her, it is. You nod again, your breath coming just a little steadier. And slowly, quietly, you stand up straighter. <<if $breastsProg is 3>>\ Riley steps in smoothly, her hands sure and practiced. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says lightly, @@.girl;"this is going to be right under your chest. Let me know if anything feels uncomfortable, okay?"@@ You nod, trying to keep your breath steady. Your arms hang awkwardly at your sides as she kneels slightly, bringing the soft measuring tape around you ribs. The plastic of it is cool against your skin, but her touch is careful. It's clear she's done this for a thousand nervous people before you. From the bench, Lily sits straighter, watching like she wants to say something but isn't sure if it'll help. She's biting the inside of her cheek, fidgeting with the strings of her hoodie again, her foot tapping a soft rhythm against the bench leg. Next, Riley rises and loops the tape a little higher—over the fullest part of your chest. The sensation of it makes your skin prickle, and you feel your face go warm. There's no binder, no sports bra, no towel. Just //you//, standing in the open with your chest being measured. And yet, somehow in this moment—with your mom quietly close and Lily silently watching—it doesn't feel as horrible as you thought it would be. Riley finishes with a gentle tug of the tape and straightens up, reading the numbers with ease. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, matter-of-fact, @@.girl;"you're measuring at a 36B."@@ Your heart stumbles a bit. @@.player;"B?"@@ you echo, barely above a whisper, like you're not sure you heard right. @@.girl;"Yep,"@@ she replies, not missing a beat. @@.girl;"Based on that, I'd say medium support is your best bet—something with shaping, maybe a soft underwire. But there's no pressure to go structured unless that's what you want."@@ You glance down for a second, as if the numbers might magically appear written across your chest. The letter ''B'' echoes around your head. It feels bigger than it should. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Lily shift on the bench. She doesn't speak up right away, just tugs at the edge of her sleeve, watching you like she's trying to find the right words. Then, just barely audible, she mumbles under her breath, @@.lily;"Can't believe my brother's boobs are already bigger than mine."@@ Your head snaps toward her, brows raised, but she doesn't look up—just keeps her eyes fixed on the floor, like if she doesn't meet your gaze, it won't count as a real confession. Riley doesn't seem to hear it. She's busy tidying the measuring tape, totally unfazed. Your mom lets out a quiet breath, something like a stifled laugh. You're not sure if she caught the comment or just the look on your face. @@.girl;"Just remember that this is about what makes //you// feel safe,"@@ Riley adds gently. The tension in your chest—tight and coiled since the moment you stepped in the room—eases a little. @@.girl;"Alright then, I'll grab a few to try on. Be back in a sec,"@@ Riley says, before slipping out of the fitting room and closing the door gently behind her. You exhale, finally letting your shoulders fall. The quiet that follows isn't heavy or awkward—it's just... there. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur into the space she left behind. You're not sure if you mean Riley, your mom, Lily, or all of them at once. <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ Riley crouches just a little as she wraps the measuring tape around your ribcage, just beneath your chest. Her hands are steady, her voice calm as she notes the band size under her breath. The plastic edge of the tape feels a bit cold against your skin, but her movements are practiced—no hesitation, no awkwardness. Then she shifts upward, looping the tape around the fullest part of your chest. There's a soft tension as she pulls it snug—enough to feel the shape, not enough to squeeze. You stand still, arms slightly away from your sides, trying not to fidget. But it's impossible not to notice it now. The curve. The weight. There's //more// there than you're used to, and there's no pretending otherwise. You catch Lily glancing up from the bench. She quickly looks away, pretending to mess with the tag on her hoodie like she's suddenly fascinated by washing instructions. You don't say anything. Neither does she. Riley finishes the measurement with a light tug and steps back, offering a warm smile. @@.girl;"You're a 34A,"@@ she says matter-of-factly. @@.girl;"That means you've got some shape, but you're still in the light support zone. I'll bring a few soft cup options—nothing heavy-duty, but enough for comfort. Maybe one with a little lining, if you're curious."@@ You nod, still trying to wrap your head around the letter. ''A.'' You knew something had changed, but hearing it said out loud feels different. @@.girl;"You've got choices here,"@@ Riley continues. @@.girl;"At the end of the day, it's all about what feels right for //you//."@@ You nod again, slower this time, arms still awkward at your sides. Then Lily speaks up—softly, more to herself than anyone else. @@.lily;"Huh. That's literally my size too."@@ You blink and glance over at her. She doesn't look up, just pulls her sleeves down a little and mutters, @@.lily;"Can't believe my older brother has caught up to me."@@ She shrugs a bit like it's nothing, but still refuses to meet your eyes. You don't know whether to laugh or groan, but you can tell she doesn't mean to tease. She's just... surprised. Maybe a little impressed. Maybe a little unsure how to feel about it. Riley doesn't seem to have caught the comment. She gives you one last nod and says, @@.girl;"Alright, I'll grab a few to try on. Be back in a sec,"@@ before slipping out of the fitting room and closing the door gently behind her. You exhale, finally letting your shoulders fall. The quiet that follows isn't heavy or awkward—it's just... there. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur into the space she left behind. You're not sure if you mean Riley, your mom, Lily, or all of them at once. <<else>>\ Riley steps in front of you, her expression as calm as ever, and begins looping the measuring tape around your ribcage. The tape presses gently against your skin just beneath your chest—there's no real resistance, nothing to shift or flatten. Just skin, bone, and breath. She notes a number quietly to herself, fingers moving with practiced ease. Then she shifts upward, the tape gliding lightly over the flattest part of your chest. It's a brief moment, but your pulse still flutters as her hands settle the tape into place. There's no hiding anything here—not that there's much to hide. And somehow, that makes it feel even more vulnerable. Riley stands and gives a small nod. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says easily, @@.girl;"you're measuring around a 32AA. That puts you in the flat-fit or soft bralette range. No need for support, just something light and comfortable. I'll bring you a few options that won't feel bulky or get in the way."@@ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You exhale slowly and nod, disappointed. <<else>>\ You exhale slowly and nod, relieved. <</if>>\ There's a quiet pause before Lily, sitting on the bench, speaks under her breath. @@.lily;"Okay... at least I've still got you beat."@@ You glance over, confused for a second, before you catch the slight blush on her cheeks. She keeps her eyes fixed on the floor, like she's pretending she didn't say anything. But there's the faintest upward twitch to her mouth, like she's trying not to smile. She doesn't say it meanly. If anything, she sounds weirdly... reassured? Riley either doesn't hear or pretends not to. She's already turning toward the door. @@.girl;"Alright, I'll grab a few to try on. Be back in a sec,"@@ before slipping out of the fitting room and closing the door gently behind her. You exhale, finally letting your shoulders fall. The quiet that follows isn't heavy or awkward—it's just... there. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur into the space she left behind. You're not sure if you mean Riley, your mom, Lily, or all of them at once. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $bind to false>> <<button "See your options" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 9">><</button>>

<<if $d18stayblinkshine is true>>\ <<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<set $currenthairacessory to $hairaccessory>>\ <<set $currenthairstyle to $hairStyle>>\ You glance toward the accessories wall again. It feels safer here—no need to commit to skirts or dresses. These are small choices, easy to put on or take off, nothing more. @@.player;"I'll check that section,"@@ you murmur, and your mom gives a small nod, falling into step behind you. Lily immediately moves with you, her usual confidence softened by genuine curiosity. @@.lily;"I actually bought the exact same hairpins and ties from here a few months ago,"@@ she says, scanning the display. She lifts some hairpins and examines it closely. @@.lily;"Red, lavender, white... yep, I've got all three somewhere in my drawer."@@ You hold up a pastel barrette adorned with tiny pearls. @@.player;"Maybe you should branch out to these,"@@ you say, amused. @@.lily;"Maybe I should,"@@ Lily says, shrugging modestly. @@.lily;"They don't look half bad."@@ Your mom watches the two of you with a quiet expression of pride, as if this moment is more meaningful than the whole store. She picks up the same set of hairpins. Holding one up to your hair, she squints at the reflection in the small mirror inset above the display rack. @@.girl;"Huh,"@@ she says softly. @@.girl;"I actually like the red. Though... I'd probably lose it somewhere by Monday."@@ @@.player;"That just means you have to buy a ton of them,"@@ you laugh. She rolls her eyes, but smiles affectionately. @@.girl;"I guess I'll have to."@@ You smile faintly, then turn your attention to the little container of hair ties next to her. Four types sit coiled like soft spirals: <ul>\ <li>A plain elastic</li> <li>A simple ribbon</li> <li>A bunny ears ribbon</li> <li>A scrunchie</li> </ul>\ <<if $lilyhairtieCG is true>>\ Lily reaches over and plucks a ribbon from the container, twirling it between her fingers. @@.lily;"I'd have all four of these already,"@@ she says, loud enough for your mom to hear, @@.lily;"if $name over here didn't steal one."@@ You glance up at her, deadpan. @@.player;"You literally gave it to me."@@ @@.lily;"I gave it to you //because// you didn't even know how the hell to tie your long hair,"@@ she shoots back. Your mom chuckles softly, pretending to be very invested in some enamel pins. @@.girl;"Oh no, not hair tie drama."@@ You roll your eyes, but your smile gives you away. @@.player;"Thanks for saving me from certain hair disaster, I guess."@@ @@.lily;"You're welcome,"@@ Lily says, tossing you a smug look. @@.lily;"I charge interest, though."@@ <<else>>\ Lily reaches over and plucks a ribbon from the container, twirling it between her fingers. @@.lily;"I have all four of these,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Got the lavender set, they're all really cute."@@ <</if>>\ You pick up the lavender pin, running your thumb across its smooth curve. It's small, barely the size of a matchstick, but it gleams under the soft store lights. It's small and quiet, but still... there. Your mom watches you for a beat, then glances at the display again. @@.girl;"No wrong answer,"@@ she murmurs. And for once, it really doesn't feel like there is one. <<button "Try some accessories on" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Blink + Shine 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You linger near the front display for a few more moments, glancing at the delicate hair clips and dainty ribbons. Yeah—they look cute. And yeah—they even feel like they //could// be something. Still, with each passing second, your shoulders tighten. There's no tension—no one's watching you, the music's mellow, and neither your mom nor the staff are pressuring you. Yet standing there feels like being in a room built for someone who knows exactly who they are—and that someone isn't you, not today. You swallow and glance at your mom. Then you glance at Lily, who's leaning back against a rack and holding a clip she's chosen. She's frowning, brow furrowed, like she's trying to figure out what to do with it. Softly, you say, @@.player;"I think... I don't want to shop here. Not today."@@ Mom looks up from the scarf she was thumbing through and immediately sets it back on the rack. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says. You're surprised at how quickly she matches your mood. She offers you a small, easy smile and adjusts the strap of her handbag. @@.girl;"You don't have to explain it,"@@ she continues, stepping beside you. @@.girl;"Not every place clicks for everyone. And that's okay."@@ Lily's eyes flick to you and your mom. She shrugs and puts the hair clip away. @@.lily;"Yeah, this place is, like... aggressively girly,"@@ she whispers. @@.lily;"Kinda shocked you even walked in."@@ You smirk, half-laughing. @@.player;"Honestly? Me too."@@ Mom nods, reaching out to tap your arm. @@.girl;"Some places look nice until you're actually in the middle of them."@@ @@.lily;"Stealth retreat?"@@ Lily asks, winking at you. @@.player;"Stealth retreat,"@@ you echo. You glance at the racks one last time, but your heart //really// isn't in it. Then you look toward the open walkway, bright and full of everything else. The three of you turn together and step back into the flow of the mall, where there are places or stores that //do// feel right. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ The clothes you've decided on rest lightly in your arms as you walk to the counter, folded with care—as if each piece carries its own quietly whispered meaning. Maya's face lights up when she sees you approach—not just because you're buying something, but because you genuinely ''want'' to. @@.girl;"Good pick,"@@ she says, voice warm and genuine. @@.girl;"You are going to look amazing."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you reply, cheeks warming from the compliment. Your mom stands beside you, steady and supportive. When Maya places the bag in your hand, she leans in, speaking softly. @@.girl;"Come back anytime, alright? We //always// get new pieces—and you wear this style really well."@@ You nod, letting those words settle deep. @@.player;"I will."@@ You step back into the mall's gentle hum, the bag swinging against your side. Today, those clothes don't feel like risk—just promise. Mom falls into step to your left, her gaze soft as she watches you. @@.girl;"You look lighter,"@@ she says quietly, like she's testing the observation. @@.player;"I //feel// lighter,"@@ you tentatively respond. Lily appears on your right—leaning froward. @@.lily;"Who thought you would pull it off? Not me. But you did. Good job."@@ You can't help but reflexively smile. She adds, almost like she's afraid to sound mushy, @@.lily;"Don't get a big head. If that thing gets any bigger, you'll get taken away for experimentation. But... yeah. Nice."@@ @@.girl;"See?"@@ Mom says, laughing kindly. @@.girl;"I knew that was coming."@@ You glance at them both, warmed. The world around you hasn't changed, but maybe //you// have. Just a little. <<else>>\ You carry the folded clothes to the counter, their weight oddly foreign in your hands. Lily hangs back a few steps, sidestepping just enough to give you space—but her eyes don't leave yours. She's quiet, her usual chatter paused, as if she knows now isn't the time. Your mom stands close by as well, offering silence support without intrusion. Maya greets you with that same calm smile. She scans the clothes, folds each receipt with care, and slides the bag across the counter without a single question. No one comments on your choices. No one asks how it felt. Which, in its own quiet way, feels like the right kind of space—not too much, but not too little. @@.girl;"Thanks for stopping in,"@@ Maya says softly. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ You take the bag and head toward the door. The air outside the store feels sharper—brighter and stranger then when you stepped in. The clothes are still tucked into the paper bag, safe and waiting. Lily falls into step beside you, picking up pace to match your stride. @@.lily;"Well, you did it,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Got some new clothes. No full-blown meltdown either."@@ Her tone is teasing, like she's trying to lighten the mood, but there's a softness in her voice that betrays her true feelings. You glance at her, unsure of what to say, and she shrugs. Your mom walks behind you, arms loosely folded, watching with a gentle look that might say "I get it, don't worry." She says nothing, but when you pause, she does too. You expect a question, but she doesn't ask. @@.lily;"If you hate it tomorrow, I'll burn it for you,"@@ Lily offers. @@.lily;"Just say the word."@@ The offer makes you laugh softly, low in your chest. @@.player;"Thanks, Lils."@@ You don't really //know// what the clothes mean. You don't know if it felt good or weird or somewhere in between. But you let yourself try, and for now, that's enough. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><</button>>

<<if $hairStyle is 0 and $hairProg > 1>>\ <<set $hairStyle to 1>>\ <</if>>\ <<paperdoll>> <<if $hairProg > 1>>\ <<button "Plain elastic">>\<<set $hairtie to 1>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Simple ribbon">>\<<set $hairtie to 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Bunny ears ribbon">>\<<set $hairtie to 3>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Scrunchie">>\<<set $hairtie to 4>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Lavender Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 1>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "White Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 2>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Red Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 3>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Remove Hairpin">>\<<set $hairaccessory to 0>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Blink + Shine 3">><</button>>

<<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<set $hairaccessory to $currenthairaccessory>>\ <<set $hairStyle to $currenthairstyle>>\ You stand before the accessory mirror, lavender hairpin poised between your fingers. For a heartbeat, you hesitate—yet gently clip it into your hair. It's a tiny gesture, but when you meet your reflection, you realize it softens your silhouette—introducing a delicate curve of color, a quiet choice that feels just right. Lily, standing next to you and examining your reflection, lifts her chin and squints playfully. @@.lily;"Ooh, look at you,"@@ she teases quietly. She reaches into the display and slips a matching pastel bunny ears ribbon hair tie onto your wrist. @@.lily;"Here—matching set."@@ You glance at her, heart warmed by the gesture. Your mom stands behind you, her smile soft and real with genuine pride. @@.girl;"You thinking about keeping it?"@@ she asks, voice gentle. Before you can answer, a soft voice floats in from the side—Maya, the sales associate. She leans against the counter, silver name tag catching the light. @@.girl;"Just so you know—those hairpins are three for five, hair ties two dollars each. The lavender one's one of our top picks,"@@ she says, nodding toward the ribbon now on your wrist. @@.girl;"That's it?"@@ your mom asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.girl;"That's really reasonable."@@ Maya grins. @@.girl;"We like making the little things fun. Sometimes one small accessory can brighten your whole day."@@ Lily leans over, her elbows grazing yours. She glances at the mirror, then adds, @@.lily;"She's not wrong. One clip has flipped my mood before."@@ You tighten your grip around the hairpin, feeling its cool touch. She offers an encouraging nod without a word. @@.girl;"You don't have to buy anything, but if it makes you feel even a bit more like yourself, I think it's worth it,"@@ your mom says, squeezing your shoulder. Maya, sensing the moment, steps back with a knowing smile. @@.girl;"Let me know if you want to try the black or pink hairties."@@ @@.lily;"Isn't lavender your favorite color?"@@ Lily grins and nudges your elbow. @@.lily;"Low-key, it's unique. Kinda like you."@@ @@.player;"All right,"@@ you say, laughing softly. Lily leans in and whispers conspiratorially, @@.lily;"I'm editing your vibe to make sure you don't wear anything embarrassing. Call it sibling styling."@@ Your mom chuckles, watching the exchange with fond eyes. @@.girl;"I like that. Sibling styling."@@ You tilt your head, examining yourself from the mirror to Lily to Mom. The store's bubble of peach-scented air and soft music seems to pause. It's just you, Lily with her playful confidence, and your mom's calm reassurance. It's your choice now. <<button "Time to buy!" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Blink + Shine 4">><</button>>

You turn the small item over in your hands one last time—delicate and simple, but enough to make your reflection feel a little different. More intentional. More //you//. You quietly walk over to the checkout counter and place what you picked out on the register. Whatever you picked, it feels right. Maya reappears with that same easy smile, her bracelets clicking softly against the counter as she scans what you brought. Lily follows behind you, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She glances at what you chose, then back at you, brow raised. @@.lily;"I get why lavender is your favorite color now,"@@ she says, sounding proud but a little shy. She ducks her head, smiling sideways. @@.lily;"Not that I care, but... whatever."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, grinning at your sister. @@.player;"I needed your stamp of approval."@@ She rolls her eyes. @@.lily;"Don't mess it up now."@@ Your mom stands next to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. @@.girl;"It looks great. I love that you're trying new things,"@@ she says, quietly encouraging. @@.girl;"Nice choice,"@@ Maya says, smiling. @@.girl;"Little details go a long way."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, it's small, but I like how it feels,"@@ you reply. Maya folds the receipt and slides it into the bag. Then she glances at the mannequins dressed in new lines. @@.girl;"We just got some new pieces—soft jackets, skirts—it could go nicely with these accessories. If you're up for it, I'd love to show you around."@@ You pause, bag in hand. The last step felt light. The next one—into the rest of the store—feels weightier. It's a choice. Lily glances up, cheeks flushing. @@.lily;"Um... you can check it out if you want. Mom and I will totally back you."@@ She shrugs, trying to play it cool. @@.girl;"Take your time to make a decision, there's no rush,"@@ your mom states, nodding encouragingly. @@.girl;"We'll be there either way."@@ <<button "Go to the clothing section" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Blink + Shine 6">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine2 to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Decide to leave the store" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Blink + Shine 6">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine2 to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $d18stayblinkshine2 is true>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ You hesitate for a heartbeat, even letting your eyes drift toward the exit. But then you tighten your grip on the small accessory bag in your hand, lift your chin, and look at Maya. Quietly, you say, @@.player;"Yeah. Sure. I'll take a look."@@ @@.girl;"Cool,"@@ Maya says, an encouraging smile on her face. @@.girl;"This way."@@ Behind you, Lily falls into step, hands shoved into her hoodie pockets. She glances over with a crooked smile that's just //barely// shy of teasing. @@.lily;"Alright, $name. If you're gonna try stuff on, you better commit. No backing out halfway."@@ You shoot her a grateful look. Mom follows at an easy pace, folding her arms and nodding like she's already proud of you for just being here. Maya leads you past the accessory corner into softly lit racks where each piece seems to have been given its own space. @@.girl;"We don't really //do// fast fashion,"@@ she explains. @@.girl;"Everything's curated—meant to last."@@ You nod and scan the selection: a cream apron-style dress that whispers vintage, pleated skirts, blush pink shorts that catch the light, a denim skirt, and more. Each item feels like it's been invited here on purpose. @@.lily;"Pfft,"@@ Lily sniffs. @@.lily;"You see those pink shorts? You'd rock those."@@ @@.player;"I'll keep that in mind,"@@ you respond, grinning. Mom settles onto a bench under the fitting-room sign, phone in hand but clearly watching. She glances up and gives you a thumbs-up—no words needed. Maya gives you space, stepping aside with a knowing smile and tapping a hanger lightly against her palm. @@.girl;"Dressing rooms are open whenever you're ready."@@ Lily nudges your elbow again. @@.lily;"Make sure I don't need eye bleach."@@ And now it's up to you. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ There may be issues with clipping and certain assets not fitting. Please understand! </div>\ <<button "Try some stuff on" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Blink + Shine 7">><</button>> <<else>>\ You pause and shake your head gently. @@.player;"Not today,"@@ you say, voice quiet but sure. Maya gives you a warm, understanding smile. @@.girl;"Totally fair,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Trying things on should be at your own pace. Come back whenever. We're always adding new pieces."@@ Your mom steps closer and gently presses your shoulder. @@.girl;"Good call,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"It's better to leave on your own terms than let it overwhelm you."@@ Lily lingers between you and Mom, stretching a little. @@.lily;"Yeah,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"We can come back when you're more ready. You better let me come, though."@@ @@.player;"Deal,"@@ you say, cracking a small smile. Lily gives a quick grin, then rolls her shoulders like she's ready to shake off the moment. @@.lily;"Let's go—before I start getting allergic to all this soft pink energy."@@ Your mom chuckles softly, and the three of you step out of the store, the soft bubblegum pop music fading behind you. As you return to the mall, it feels like you made the right choice. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $outfit to $tempoutfit>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You hear the door's soft //click// as it closes behind you, sealing you into a hushed little world of your own. Inside the dim fitting room, everything feels gentler—like someone paused the noise outside just for this moment. On the bench lies your selection: a clean white tank top, an oversized soft sweater, and a cute blue skirt. There are a few other pieces still on their hangers—they send a flutter of anticipation through your chest. You sit down, your hand lingering over the sweater, feeling its weight and texture. It hums with possibility. You begin changing deliberately—the tank top slides on easily, snug but soft. The sweater settles itself just right on your shoulders. You slip into the skirt, and something settles in your chest—a careful calm that feels... correct. You step toward the mirror and freeze for a moment. It's not unease—it's wonder. The reflection isn't someone else. It's //you//, clearer and more honest than ever. Like static faded, and a deeper melody emerged. You do a little spin, enough to let the skirt flutter around your legs, and laugh—light and surprised. Your hands smooth the front, then adjust the folds, then smooth again. Not from doubt, but because you ''like'' this feeling. So much that your breath warms and settles in your ribs. Beautiful. You realize the word fits you now. A soft knock on the wall outside surprises you. @@.girl;"You've been in there for a while, $name,"@@ your mom's voice floats in through the door. @@.girl;"Doing okay in there?"@@ You straighten up and glance at your reflection. Then you answer, quietly but firmly, @@.player;"Yeah. I'm... really good."@@ There's a pause, and you imagine her smile on the other side. You hold this moment—a held breath, a small glow—before gently removing each piece. Folding them with care, you press the soft fabrics like pressed flowers, a silent thank-you. You step out, clothes in your arms. Outside the room, you find your mom waiting thoughtfully on a small bench. Lily's slouched beside her—arms crossed and a wide grin plastered on her face. Mom's eyes light up the moment she sees the clothes in your arms. @@.girl;"How'd it go in there? Did it feel okay?"@@ she reaches out, her tone soft but hopeful. @@.lily;"Yeah, spill,"@@ Lily demands. @@.lily;"Was it weird? Or did you actually like it?"@@ Her tone is playful, but there's something eager under the teasing. You offer them a calm smile. @@.player;"It... felt right. Comfortable. And the skirt spun nice,"@@ you admit, voice steady. Lily perks up, shifting to examine the folded skirt and sweater in your arms. @@.lily;"See? It's all about the spin."@@ Your mom lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. @@.girl;"I'm really proud of you, you know. Taking a chance on something different—that takes a lot of bravery."@@ You fold your arms around the clothes and shrug, trying to stay casual. @@.player;"It surprised me. In a good way."@@ @@.lily;"Can't be more surprised than me right now,"@@ Lily teases, smirking. @@.lily;"I never thought you of all people would bring me along to go skirt shopping."@@ You smile—soft and full. Maybe this wasn't what you would've expected a month ago, but there's nothing you'd rather be doing right now. <<else>>\ You push the fitting room door closed behind you—it clicks shut, cutting out Blink + Shine's gentle bubblegum pop. You know Lily and Mom wait just beyond the door. You can hear their voices and soft laughter. But here, under the harsh fitting-room lights, it's just you and the clothes. You glance down at what you're about to try on, resting neatly on the bench: a white tank top, an oversized sweater, a cute blue skirt—and a few other things that make your heart race. They //should// be safe and unthreatening. They're just pieces of fabric, after all. But as you pull on the tank top, you feel a familiar tension anchor in your chest—the question: Is this really you? You catch your reflection as the fabric settles on your shoulder, heart twisting slightly. The clothes fit—shoulder seams sit right, the cut flatters, the fabric flows. You're not hiding in them. But there's still //distance// between you and the person in the mirror. You stand straighter, arms folding across your chest like armor. Try your best to mimic confidence. Tilt your chin. Exhale. But every pose feels rehearsed. Distant. And inside, the question still churns: "What am I even doing?" You switch to another skirt. Tug it on, smooth the fabric over your waist and hips, step back. It looks... fine. But still wrong. Wrong enough to make your throat tighten. There's no panic, no disgust. Just a slow, hollow well of disappointment. You really wanted this to work—and you tried it. But that doesn't make it click. You strip the clothes off carefully, fold each one back just how they were, neat and patient on the bench. Then you slide into your familiar top. It doesn't feel incredible—it just feels ''right''. Unremarkable, but you. That's enough. You pull open the door and step out. Your mom looks up from her phone with soft, patient eyes. She doesn't ask if it worked—she doesn't need to. Lily's sitting besides her, arms crossed and foot tapping. @@.lily;"So? Fashion success or epic flop?"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"I... tried."@@ Your mom offers an encouraging smile. @@.girl;"How'd it feel?"@@ You take a breath, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. @@.player;"Honestly?"@@ you say, voice low. @@.player;"It didn't feel like //me//."@@ @@.lily;"I mean, trying it on didn't make you someone else,"@@ Lily pipes up. @@.lily;"You tried it, saw what it was like, and didn't like it. That's fine."@@ You meet her eyes, surprised by her words, and nod. @@.player;"Yeah, it's just... not the answer."@@ It's honest, sure, but it still stings a little to say it. Mom steps forward and puts a gentle hand on your arm. @@.girl;"That doesn't mean it was a waste, honey. It means you learned something important. And that's always worth something."@@ Maya glances over from where she's rearranging a rack of scarves. Her eyes flick to the clothes in your hands, and for just a second, you think she's going to ask. But she doesn't. She just smiles, small and neutral. @@.girl;"Everything fit okay?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, because technically it did. She nods. @@.girl;"Cool. Let me know if you need help checking anything out."@@ It felt strange, like none of //you// was in there. But maybe, just maybe, that doesn't mean you have to walk away empty-handed. <</if>>\ <<button "Time to purchase" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Blink + Shine 9">><</button>>

<<set $temp2 to true>>\ As you step into Blink + Shine, the air shifts immediately—lighter, a little warmer, and filled with the faint scent of peach. It's not overwhelmingly pink or frilly like you'd half-expected. Instead, the vibe is intentional. Stylish. Curated. The lighting is soft and diffused as well, bouncing off racks of lightweight jackets, breezy skirts, and wide-leg trousers. Your mom steps in behind you with a content sigh. @@.girl;"This is kind of cute,"@@ she says, offering you a small smile as she brushes a hand along a blouse. Lily glides around, a subtle curiosity on her face. She reaches out for a dainty hair clip, weighing it in her hand. @@.lily;"This one isn't really my thing, but it's... not awful,"@@ she says offhand. She tests the clip and gives a nonchalant shrug. @@.lily;"Never mind. It's kind of growing on me."@@ @@.player;"Want me to pick something for you?"@@ you ask, glancing at her. She quirks an eyebrow and smirks. @@.lily;"Go on ahead. But I'm not putting it in my hair if I don't like it."@@ @@.girl;"That corner looks nice,"@@ your mom says, nodding toward the accessories wall. @@.girl;"Should we check it out together?"@@ Lily nods, tucking the clip into her pocket. @@.lily;"Sure, I'm up for it. But not for too long, alright?"@@ @@.girl;"Deal,"@@ your mom chuckles. @@.girl;"Just a quick look."@@ The store feels soft and simple, full of possibility and choice. It's giving you space. And right now, you can take it. <<button "Head toward the accessories" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Blink + Shine 1">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine" "Head toward the accessories" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide to leave the store" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Blink + Shine 1">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine" "Decide to leave the store" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> ''NovaTrend'' is sleek and filled with plants, like a fashion blog brought to life. There are soft earth tones, cropped jackets, and baggy pants. Every display seems effortless yet curated. ''ShatterBox'' has dark walls, racks of fishnets, studded belts, combat boots, and merchandise from bands you don't even recognize. Mesh sleeves and eyeliner are practically required. ''Blink + Shine'' is so sparkly it's practically vibrating. Hair clips, lip gloss, and enamel pins shaped like raccoons are on display. ''Threadz'' is wall-to-wall graphic tees, oversized hoodies, and anime designs. It smells faintly like body spray and rebellion. ''StepUp Footwear'', a staple of the Crestview Bay mall, has so many shoes it nearly makes you dizzy. ''Cuddle Creations'' is a store that has just about every plushie you can imagine. <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<if $temp is false>>\ <<button "Head to NovaTrend" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily NovaTrend">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp1 is false>>\ <<button "Head to ShatterBox" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily ShatterBox">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp2 is false>>\ <<button "Head to Blink + Shine" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Blink + Shine">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp3 is false>>\ <<button "Head to Threadz" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Threadz">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp4 is false>>\ <<button "Head to StepUp Footwear" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily StepUp">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp5 is false>>\ <<button "Head to Cuddle Creations" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Head to the changing rooms" "Closet">><</button>> <<if $temp is true and $temp1 is true and $temp2 is true and $temp3 is true and $temp4 is true and $temp5>>\ <<button "Shopping done!" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 14">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d18momlilyplushieq is 0>>\ You plop down next to a bin over overstuffed bunny plushies. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, turning toward Lily and Mom. @@.player;"What kind of plushie do you think //I// would be?"@@ Lily's head snaps up like she's been waiting for this. @@.lily;"Oh my God, yes!"@@ she says, practically tossing aside the round frog she was holding like it suddenly offended her. @@.lily;"Okay. Let me think."@@ Your mom looks amused. @@.girl;"This is a dangerous question to ask your little sister, $name,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"No, no,"@@ Lily says, pointing dramatically. @@.lily;"I'm taking this seriously. This is like... a spiritual decision."@@ She spins in place, scanning the shelves like a judge on a cooking show, before grabbing a majestic-looking dragon plush off the top of a display. It's not scary—more rounded than fierce, with velvet wings, big eyes, and a cute face. It radiates quiet drama and surprising softness. @@.lily;"This is you,"@@ Lily declares, holding it up dramatically. @@.lily;"Main character energy. Protagonist energy. You're secretly powerful, but trying to play it chill. Like, if you ever went missing, the universe would rearrange itself to find you."@@ @@.player;"That's... weirdly specific,"@@ you say, blinking. @@.player;"I thought you'd roast me or something."@@ @@.girl;"Well, Lily isn't wrong,"@@ your mom says, snorting softly. She gives she dragon plush an appraising glance. @@.girl;"You've always had this way of sort of... collecting people. Not on purpose. It's just that people like being around you."@@ Lily points at you again. @@.lily;"Exactly! You'd be the plushie in the corner of the store that no one notices at first, but when someone finally picks you up, they get super attached and start bringing you everywhere."@@ You raise an eyebrow, not sure how to respond. Your mom shakes her head, chuckling. @@.girl;"See? Dangerous question."@@ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, letting the idea settle in. @@.player;"Dragon plushie. Chosen one. I can live with that."@@ @@.lily;"You and dragon $name were meant to be,"@@ Lily says, patting your shoulder with exaggerated solemnity. You don't say it out loud, but.... yeah. It actually feels kind of perfect. <<elseif $d18momlilyplushieq is 1>>\ You walk slowly along the edge of a display shaped like a giant wooden crescent moon, its shelves lined with plushies stacked like sleepy stars. You trail your fingers across a narwhal with a glittery horn and a cinnamon roll that looks like it just woke up from a nap. Nothing's calling to you just yet. Instead, you glance back over your shoulder. Your mom stands a few paces behind, her purse slung loose at her side. She isn't pretending to scroll through her phone or trying to rush you along—just quietly watching, letting you go at your own pace. Lily is hunched in front of a lower shelf, squishing a lineup of bread-shaped plushies with an intensity that makes it seem like she's choosing a battle partner. @@.lily;"These ones are all too soft,"@@ she mutters. @@.lily;"I need structure. Support. Personality."@@ You hold up a donut-shaped plush with tiny arms and a worried little smile stitched into its frosting. @@.player;"Hey, what about you two?"@@ Both of them glance up. @@.girl;"Me?"@@ your mom asks, blinking. Lily perks up instantly. @@.lily;"Wait, //we're// allowed to pick one too? Is this a full plushie adoption situation?"@@ @@.player;"If you //had// to pick one,"@@ you say, holding the donut out to your mom. @@.player;"What would you go for?"@@ She lets out a small laugh, surprised. @@.girl;"You want me to get one?"@@ @@.player;"You're allowed to like soft things too,"@@ you say, nodding. Your mom steps forward and gently takes the donut plush, turning it over in her hands. @@.girl;"This one looks like it's apologizing just for existing."@@ @@.player;"Relatable,"@@ you say. She laughs and returns it to the shelf, wandering to the next row of plushies. Her fingers brush over a sleepy seal, a penguin in earmuffs, and a fluffy white cat with a bowtie. Eventually, she pauses at a slightly lopsided fox with a patch sewn over one ear and tiny beans stitched into its paws. She picks it up slowly, almost reverently. @@.girl;"I like this one,"@@ she says softly. @@.girl;"It's kind of ragged-looking. I like that."@@ You watch her turn it in her hands. There's something familiar with the way she holds it. You can't help but wonder how many toys she held like this when you were little. How many nights she tucked a plushie back under your arm after you dropped it in your sleep. @@.player;"Would you actually keep it?"@@ you ask. She shrugs, giving the fox a small pat on the head. @@.girl;"Why not? I don't //need// one. But I wouldn't mind having something small on my nightstand. Something a little dumb. Something soft."@@ She looks over at you with a smile, her tone playful. @@.girl;"You don't grow out of needing comfort, $name. You just stop giving yourself permission to ask for it."@@ The words settle around you like a blanket. You don't say anything at first. Honestly? You don't need to. Lily, meanwhile, is pacing dramatically between three different displays, arms overflowing with plush chaos. @@.lily;"Okay, while you and Mom were speaking, I've narrowed it down to five,"@@ she declares, with the intensity of someone making an actual life-or-death decision. @@.lily;"But none of them are perfect. This is like choosing a starter Pokoban."@@ You watch her circle the nearest shelf again like she's trying to summon divine guidance. @@.lily;"Alright,"@@ she says, holding up a frog. @@.lily;"You're soft. You're green. But do you speak to my soul?"@@ She frowns and sets it aside. Next, she holds up a blobfish in a wizard hat. @@.lily;"You're a vibe. But I feel like you'd judge my spelling. Next."@@ She crouches, grabs a suspiciously swole duck with both hands, and squints at it. @@.lily;"You terrify me. I respect that. But I can't bring that kind of energy home."@@ She glances over at you like you're supposed to understand the gravity of what she's going through. @@.lily;"$name, this is ''so'' unfair. They're all so specific. What if I pick one and the others feel abandoned? What if I spark a plushie war? I'll feel responsible."@@ Your mom raises an eyebrow from her spot beside a shelf of sleepy cats. @@.girl;"Pretty sure they'll forgive you."@@ @@.lily;"You don't know that!"@@ Lily shoots back, clutching a bread plush protectively for a second before tossing it into a random bin. @@.lily;"That one gave me nothing emotionally. We're done."@@ Finally, she spots it. On a shelf tucked halfway behind a display of themed unicorns and bubble tea plushies, there's a round little red panda. its fur is deep russet, its eyes wide and slightly off-center, and it's stubby paws are positioned like it's about to punch something and apologize right after. Lily goes quiet. She picks it up and stares at it like it just told her a secret. @@.lily;"Oh no,"@@ she whispers. You peer over. @@.player;"Found your match?"@@ @@.lily;"This one looks like it would throw hands with God for me,"@@ she says, very seriously. @@.lily;"And then spiral about it all night."@@ @@.player;"So... you,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.lily;"Exactly,"@@ she says, clutching the red panda to her chest like it's already family. @@.lily;"I have found my plushie soulmate. We are bonded now. I will never know peace again."@@ Your mom chuckles. @@.girl;"Glad we got that settled."@@ Lily doesn't answer—she's too busy whispering something to the red panda, like they're already plotting something. You smile to yourself. Just like that, all three of you have found something small and soft in a world that's anything but. <<elseif $d18momlilyplushieq is 2>>\ You pick up a soft, sleepy-faced monkey from one of the lower shelves and turn it over in your hands. You trace your thumb across the embroidered smile, then glance up at your mom and Lily. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, voice a little quieter than before. @@.player;"Do you guys think it's... weird? That I still like this stuff?"@@ They both pause. Your mom straightens from where she's been examining a plushie the length of a loaf of bread. Her brows lift slightly. @@.girl;"Weird?"@@ she echoes. Lily, who was mid-rant about whether a koala in overalls was cuter than a duck with a rain hat, blinks and falls silent. For once. You shrug, trying to play it off. @@.player;"I dunno. I'm eighteen. Most people are moving on from this stuff. I just... haven't."@@ Your mom's expression softens. @@.girl;"Sweetie, you've //never// been the kind of person who gives things up just because someone else decides you're too old. You still have the shoebox full of Yo-Ta-Ro! cards you stole from your cousin in fifth grade."@@ @@.player;"Borrowed permanently,"@@ you correct, deadpan. Lily plops down beside you on a massive plushie shaped like a possum in a hoodie. @@.lily;"Okay, but like, why //wouldn't// you still like this stuff? Look at them."@@ She holds up a blobfish wearing a chef's hat. @@.lily;"You think the existence of Chef Blobert is just for five-year-olds? No. Chef Blobert is eternal."@@ You snort beside yourself. @@.lily;"Besides, it's not like you're out here pushing a stroller full of plushies to class or whatever,"@@ Lily adds, shrugging a little. @@.lily;"You're just... letting yourself like soft things. That's not weird. That's just human."@@ Your mom kneels beside one of the lower bins and picks up a tiny lamb with a star-patterned bow. @@.girl;"You know,"@@ she begins, gently brushing its ear, @@.girl;"I think liking something harmless and gentle in a word that's this complicated is kind of brave. It means you're still listening to the part of yourself that knows what peace feels like."@@ You glance back at the monkey in your hands. It doesn't seem embarrassed to be what it is. It just... exists. Hug-ready. Constant. Simple. Lily leans against your arm and stage-whispers, @@.lily;"Also, if you don't pick something, I will, and I'll make you carry it around in public. His name will be Hugster McSqueaks and you'll be emotionally attached to him by this time next week."@@ You laugh, but there's something steady and real underneath the teasing. You're not weird for liking this stuff. You're just //you//. <<elseif $d18momlilyplushieq is 3>>\ You turn a plush bunny over in your hands, then glance toward your mom, who's examining a jellyfish with sparkly tentacles and the softest embroidered smile you've ever seen. @@.player;"Hey, Mom,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Did you have a favorite plushie as a kid?"@@ Your mom blinks, caught off guard by the question. Then a slow smile starts to creep in as she sets the jellyfish back on the shelf. @@.girl;"Wow. That's... been a while,"@@ she says, brushing a bit of hair behind her ear. @@.girl;"But yeah. I did."@@ Lily immediately perks up from behind a pyramid of plush waffles. @@.lily;"Oh, this I //have// to hear."@@ Your mom chuckles, folding her arms lightly. @@.girl;"Her name was—don't laugh—Miss Buttons. She was a faded pink teddy bear with a bow tie, and I think she had one actual button sewn where an eye used to be."@@ @@.player;"Miss Buttons?"@@ you repeat, grinning. @@.girl;"She was a very distinguished teddy bear, thank you,"@@ your mom says, feigning offense. @@.girl;"She was classy, quiet, and extremely judgmental of anyone who sat on my bed without permission."@@ Lily is absolutely cackling now. @@.lily;"You had a haunted Victorian teddy bear."@@ @@.girl;"She was //not// haunted,"@@ Mom insists, holding back a laugh on her own. @@.girl;"She just had presence."@@ You laugh too, picturing it. @@.player;"What happened to her?"@@ @@.girl;"Oh, I kept her for years,"@@ your mom says, the smile turning a little more thoughtful. @@.girl;"She got a little floppy and threadbare, but I brought her to college. She sat on my shelf through every bad exam week and every weird roommate situation. I think I still have her somewhere in the garage."@@ @@.player;"That's kind of awesome,"@@ you say. Your mom shrugs like it's no big deal, but there's something proud in the way she stands. @@.girl;"She made me feel like myself. Even when everything else was messy."@@ Lily raises her hands. @@.lily;"Follow-up question. When can we go down to the garage and meet her?"@@ @@.girl;"We'll see,"@@ Mom says with a mock seriousness. @@.girl;"She's picky about visitors."@@ You shake your head with a smile, and the three of you drift further into the store. It's strange how a silly question about plushies turns into something soft and real. Something that makes the air in your chest settle a little easier. Turns out everyone has a little softness they're carrying with them. Even if it's a pink bear with one eye and way too much personality. <</if>>\ <<button "Pick a plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 2">><</button>>

You wander a little deeper into the store, the air somehow growing even softer—like every step forward wraps you in a layer of cotton. The lighting feels gentler here, the music more of a hum than a sound, and the only real noise comes from the occasional rustle of tags or the squish of plush against plush. Your mom trails behind you, still smiling faintly, letting you take your time. She doesn't say anything, just watches you move from shelf to shelf like she's watching something quietly important. Lily, on the other hand, is bouncing from bin to bin like a ferret in a sugar rush. She's doing that thing where she pretends not to care while absolutely caring more than anyone else. You pause at a low shelf near the floor, and something immediately catches your eye. A goat plushie. It's soft gray, with tiny twisted felt horns and tiny hooves that look like they were sewn with too much love. It's got a dumb, slightly lopsided grin, and its little tail sticks out like it's mid-hop. You grin without thinking. @@.player;"This guy looks like it eats paper when you're not watching."@@ Your mom leans over and snorts. @@.girl;"It'd //definitely// chew through your math homework and then act personally offended when you call him out."@@ @@.lily;"That thing's got criminal energy,"@@ Lily declares, peeking over your shoulder. @@.lily;"Like, it's got a fake ID and uses it to sneak into goat nightclubs."@@ @@.player;"Goat nightclubs?"@@ you ask, deadpan. @@.lily;"Yeah. That's where they play ska and eat cardboard,"@@ she replies, dead serious. You shake your head, still smiling, and gently place the goat back. A few steps away, tucked into a little fabric basket like it's hiding on purpose, you find a meerkat plushie. It's long and lanky, with tiny beady eyes and paws tucked up like it's halfway through panicking about a quiz it didn't know it had. The little furrow in its brow makes it look like it's perpetually overthinking. You run your thumb across its soft back. @@.player;"This one looks like it hasn't slept in three days and thinks it offended someone years ago."@@ @@.girl;"Reminds me of someone,"@@ your mom says, leaning closer. You turn slowly to look at her. @@.player;"Rude,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Accurate, sure. But rude."@@ Lily pops into view again, squinting at the meerkat. @@.lily;"My assessment is that that one looks like it narrates documentaries in its head just to feel less awkward at parties."@@ Then, a few steps further on, you spot it—on a nearby table, nestled between two oversized sunflowers made of felt, there's a round, chubby little bee plushie. It's mostly fuzz, with tiny stubby wings that flop when you lift it, a soft yellow belly, and a stitched-on smile that radiates pure, slightly misguided optimism. The wings bounce a little when you shake it gently. Your mom hums. @@.girl;"It looks like it'd be really good at giving pep talks and //terrible// at respecting personal space."@@ You pat its fuzzy head. It gives a satisfying //boing//. @@.player;"Come on,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's trying its best."@@ Lily comes out of nowhere and crouches beside you. @@.lily;"That thing would definitely yell encouragement at you during a test before accidentally knocking your pencil off the desk with its wing."@@ <<if $d18momlilyplushieq is 1>>\ You glance down at the trio in front of you—goat, meerkat, and bee—each of them their own tiny universe of charm and softness. You could see yourself walking out with any one of them. But your eyes drift. A few steps back, near the display of novelty lattes and oversized jelly plushies, Lily is kneeling beside a lower shelf, one arm still wrapped tight around her red panda. She's not bouncing or cracking jokes right now. Instead, she's looking at a line of birds, gently tapping each one on the head like she's saying goodbye. She notices you watching and straightens up quickly. @@.lily;"What?"@@ she says, voice a little defensive. You lift an eyebrow. @@.lily;"I'm just... checking if any of them are, like, secretly better,"@@ she mumbles, tightening her hold on the red panda. @@.lily;"But they're not. This guy's it."@@ She presses her cheek against it like she's trying not to make a big deal out of it. But she is. For all her fire and teasing, you can tell this plush means something. It's not just a silly animal—it's the one she picked when she was allowed to have something soft. Something hers. And a little farther away, closer to the checkout, you spot it. The ragged fox. The one your mom held earlier—quietly, almost like she hadn't realized she was doing it. Its patched ear, its worn little paws, the slight lean in its posture like it's been through things and came out softer instead of meaner. It's still there. Waiting on the same shelf. Slouched to the side like it never expected anyone to come back. Your mom notices your gaze and waves it off immediately. @@.girl;"Oh, don't worry about that one,"@@ she says quickly. @@.girl;"I just thought it was cute. I don't need one."@@ She doesn't meet your eyes when she says it. And you remember—how she smiled when she picked it up. How she turned it in her hands like she wasn't just admiring it, but recognizing it. Something about that fox connected with her, even if she'd never admit it. Now you stand between three plushies of your own and two quiet wishes from people you love. You weren't supposed to buy one for anyone else. The plan was one plushie at most, only for you. But suddenly the choice feels bigger than it should. Because Lily might joke and deflect, but she holds that red panda like it makes her feel safe. And your mom—who's spent so long giving everything to everyone—looked at that old, patchy fox like it whispered something she hadn't heard in years. And here you are. Only one can come home. But which one... is up to you. <<else>>\ You glance down at the trio now in front of you—goat, meerkat, and bee. Each one ridiculously different. Each one... kind of perfect. Too perfect. Because you're only getting one. That's the rule. Space. Budget. Logic. They all say one. But your heart? Your heart finds it hard to care about logic. <</if>>\ <<set $d18plushchoice to false>>\ <<if $money > 19>>\ <<button "Get the goat plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 3">>\<<set $d18plushchoice to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_plushchoice" "Get the goat plushie" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get the meerkat plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 3">>\<<set $d18plushchoice to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_plushchoice" "Get the meerkat plushie" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get the bee plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 3">>\<<set $d18plushchoice to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_plushchoice" "Get the bee plushie" "story">><</button>> <<if $d18momlilyplushieq is 1>>\ <<button "Get the fox plushie for your mom" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 3">>\<<set $d18plushchoice to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_plushchoice" "Get the fox plushie for your mom" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get the red panda plushie for your sister" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 3">>\<<set $d18plushchoice to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D18_plushchoice" "Get the red panda plushie for your sister" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Decide against getting a plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 3">><</button>>

<<set $textbox to true>>\ <<if $d18plushchoice is false>>\ <<set $textbox to false>>\ You stand there for a long moment, the weight of the decision settling heavier than expected. The plushies stare back at you—not literally, of course, but the way their little stitched eyes gleam under the soft lights, you //feel// them watching. Lily's voice cuts through the quiet. @@.lily;"Okay, wait,"@@ she says, coming up beside you and squinting at your empty hands. @@.lily;"You're seriously not getting //any// of them?"@@ You shrug, but it's not casual. Not even close. @@.lily;"What?"@@ she repeats, louder this time. @@.lily;"Seriously? You're just... leaving them here?"@@ Your mom hears the shift in her tone and glances over. She tilts her head slightly, watching you, trying to read your face. You don't answer right away. You just stand there, arms crossed tight like you're holding something in place. The goat stares up with its crooked grin, like it's still hoping you'll change your mind. The meerkat's tiny paws look frozen mid-reach. The bee... it doesn't even wobble anymore. Just sits there, round and soft and a little too still. All three of them waiting for you to do something. But you don't. You turn away instead. Lily looks between you and the shelf, her brow furrowed. @@.lily;"Dude, come on. It's //you//. You're like... the #1 plushie fan. This is your whole thing!"@@ She tries to keep her voice light, teasing even—but there's a confused edge to it now. And under that, something disappointed she's not sure how to say out loud. Your mom approaches slowly, her purse still slung over her shoulder. She doesn't say anything at first—just glances down at your hands, still empty, then at your face. You can feel her trying to figure it out. You can //feel// both of them waiting for you to change your mind. But you don't. @@.girl;"Changed your mind?"@@ your mom finally asks, softly. You nod once. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ That's all you say. And then you walk toward the exit. The moment the door opens, the soft, warm air of the store is replaced by the chiller hum of the mall—brighter, louder, cooler. You don't look back, you wouldn't dare, but you can feel it. It's like you left something behind that might've been more important than it looked. Lily trails behind slower than usual, hugging her arms. @@.lily;"That meerkat was kinda rooting for you,"@@ she mutters, almost too quiet to hear. And your mom walks silently beside you, not pushing. But you can feel the question they're not asking and the soft weight that isn't in your arms. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 0>>\ <<set $goatplush to true>>\ <<set $goatplushieName = "Bartholomew">>\ You hold the goat plushie in your hands, its little lopsided smile still staring up at you like it knows //exactly// what it is and couldn't care less. Its soft gray body fits perfectly in the crook of your arm, like it's been carried around forever. The felt horns are slightly crooked, and one ear sticks out at a defiant angle. You squeeze it gently. It doesn't just feel right. It feels like you picked each other. Lily circles you like a tiny fashion consultant, eyeing the goat critically. @@.lily;"Okay, but like... why is he staring at me like he knows all my secrets?"@@ You shrug, grinning. @@.player;"I guess he's seen things."@@ She squints harder. @@.lily;"He looks like the kind of goat who runs a sketchy magic shop in the woods and charges you three riddles and a wheel of cheese for a cursed sword. You get what I mean, right?"@@ @@.player;"Not really,"@@ you murmur. Your mom chuckles, arms folded. @@.girl;"A goat, huh?"@@ @@.player;"He's got something going on,"@@ you say with a nod, gently squishing his horn. @@.player;"You can tell just by looking at him."@@ @@.lily;"All I'm saying is that he definitely has a fake name and an underground lair,"@@ Lily adds. @@.lily;"I love him."@@ You make your way to the counter, goat in tow, and are immediately greeted by a cheerful employee wearing glittery nail polish and a name tag that reads Jenn. @@.girl;"Oh my God!"@@ Jenn exclaims, lighting up the moment she sees your choice. @@.girl;"You picked Grumble Goat! That one's part of our limited run. We call him Grumble because he always looks like he's about to cancel a company meeting with zero notice."@@ You glance down at the goat, who indeed looks like he'd file a formal complaint against your existence—and win. @@.player;"Yeah, that tracks,"@@ you laugh. Jenn scans the plushie's tag, then gestures toward a kiosk decked out in pastel buttons and softly glowing screens. @@.girl;"Okay! Here comes the best part. Every plushie adoption comes with a certificate. You get to name him before we print it out."@@ @@.player;"Like a real name name?"@@ you ask, staring at the screen. @@.girl;"Oh yeah,"@@ Jenn nods. @@.girl;"This is legal and binding. He's your responsibility now."@@ @@.player;"He's gonna be //such// a handful,"@@ you mumble. Lily leans over the screen, poking the edge. @@.lily;"Okay but please don't name him something boring like 'Jake.' He looks like he'd cast a spell on your cereal if you did that."@@ Your mom raises an eyebrow behind you. @@.girl;"Lily's right. You better not pick something you'll regret. He seems like the vengeful type."@@ You stand at the kiosk, fingers hovering over the keyboard, glancing down at the goat still tucked in your arm. His smug little face stares back at you like he already knows what you're going to type—and is either extremely proud of extremely disappointed. Lily leans closer, whispering, @@.lily;"Name him something epic. Like... Grandmaster Fluff."@@ You snort, but the pressure's on. The screen glows softly and your fingers hover. Time to name the goat. <<textbox "$goatplushieName" "Bartholomew">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 1>>\ <<set $meerkatplush to true>>\ <<set $meerkatplushieName = "Nibbles">>\ You hold the little meerkat plushie gently in your hands, its tiny paws curled close to its chest, its eyes wide with that familiar, soft anxiety. There's something about it that makes you want to keep it safe. You imagine it standing guard on your desk, nervously watching over your snacks and overthinking every decision you make. It's sweet. Loyal. Just a little nervous. The little guy seems like he's still not entirely convinced it deserves to be picked. Lily slides up beside you and peers at the plush in your arms. @@.lily;"Oh my God,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"It looks like it's stressed about having to call and make its own doctor's appointment."@@ @@.girl;"When have you ever done that?"@@ your mom murmurs under her breath. You snort. @@.player;"He definitely rehearses conversations in his head before ordering food."@@ @@.lily;"Who'd ever do that?"@@ she mutters, then pokes its tiny snout. @@.lily;"But he's cute. In that nervous sort of way."@@ Your mom leans in to get a look too. @@.girl;"You two are right,"@@ she says, tapping the meerkat's nose. @@.girl;"He's got a worried little face. Like he's deeply concerned about your laundry habits."@@ @@.player;"Or my snack decisions,"@@ you add. @@.lily;"I mean, being honest here, someone probably should be,"@@ Lily throws in, smirking. You're smiling now, and it's not just because they're being funny. There's something about the way this little guy looks like he never quite believes he belongs—that quiet, loyal energy that feels familiar in a way you're not ready to unpack. You carry him to the front counter, still cradles in your arms like he might bolt otherwise. Jenn, the cashier with sparkly nails and a glittery name tag, perks up immediately when she spots your choice. @@.girl;"Ohhh, you picked a PeekPal!"@@ she beams. @@.girl;"Excellent choice."@@ @@.player;"A what now?"@@ you ask. She turns the plush gently and points to a small tag tucked near his leg: ''PeekPal Series — For The Quiet Kind of Brave.'' @@.girl;"They're new,"@@ Jenn explains as she scans the barcode. @@.girl;"Made for people who overthink literally everything, but somehow still show up. This one's part of our 'Cautious but Courageous' set."@@ You glance down at the meerkat. Suddenly, his tiny stitched face seems even more sincere. Like he's just happy to be included, even if he doesn't quite know why. @@.girl;"He looks like he needs a loyal human,"@@ Jenn adds with a wink. @@.girl;"And snacks. Like, a concerning amount of snacks."@@ Lily nods solemnly in agreement. @@.lily;"You're gonna have to share chips with him. That's the law now."@@ You hug the plushie a little closer, his fur soft under your fingertips. He's anxious. He's sweet. He's kind of exactly what you didn't know you were looking for. Jenn gestures to the kiosk, where a screen glows gently with pastel colors and a blinking cursor. @@.girl;"Time to make it official. Give that little guy a name he can be proud of."@@ You take a breath and approach the kiosk. The meerkat's eyes meet yours—stitched but somehow trusting. You cradle him close as the screen flashes: ''Name Your PeekPal'' Lily leans over your shoulder. @@.lily;"He looks like he'd name himself something like Gerald and then immediately second-guess it."@@ @@.girl;"That's not off,"@@ your mom says, laughing. @@.girl;"Whenever you're ready, $name."@@ And you are. <<textbox "$meerkatplushieName" "Nibbles">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 2>>\ <<set $beeplush to true>>\ <<set $beeplushieName = "Bumbles">>\ The bee plushie's still right where you left it—propped up between two oversized sunflower made of fabric like it's trying its best to look important. Its fuzzy yellow belly is round, with stubby little black legs and soft felt wings that wobble slightly when you move it. It looks like it would absolutely volunteer for something and immediately panic about it. You reach for it without hesitation. There's something about this one. It's not the biggest, nor the softest, but it looks like it would sit next to you on your desk and remind you to drink water and breathe. Like it would give you a pep talk in a squeaky voice before an important exam, even if it was nervous too. Lily pops up behind you and lets out a soft gasp. @@.lily;"Oh my God. He looks like he just got promoted at work and is pretending to know what spreadsheets are."@@ You laugh, adjusting your grip on the plushie. @@.player;"Well, he's definitely faking it till he makes it."@@ @@.lily;"Until he crashes into a window, that is,"@@ she mutters, gently flicking one of the bee's wings. Your mom walks up just as you give the bee an experimental squish. It compresses perfectly—just the right mix of resistance and softness. Like a hug and a pep talk rolled into one. @@.girl;"He's cute,"@@ your mom says, her voice warm. @@.girl;"The kind of plush that'd sit on your desk and remind you to take your vitamins. I approve."@@ You glance down at the bee in your hands. He really does look like he'd give you an awkward thumbs-up before a big test. @@.girl;"Is this the one?"@@ she asks. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you nod. @@.player;"He's kind of perfect."@@ At the front counter, Jenn—the cheerful employee with the glittery name tag—is instantly delighted when she sees what you're holding. @@.girl;"Ooh, you picked a BuzzBuddy!"@@ she says, clapping once. You blink. @@.player;"That's... a thing?"@@ Jenn grins, her sparkly earrings bouncing as she nods. @@.girl;"Absolutely. That little guy's part of our Support Squad Line. BuzzBuddies are known for showing up, panicking a little, and doing their best anyway."@@ Lily snorts. @@.lily;"Sounds familiar."@@ You shoot her a look, but you're laughing too—because yeah. That checks out. Jenn carefully scans the tag, then waves you over to a kiosk nearby. @@.girl;"Alright! Most important part of the adoption process—time to give him a name."@@ The kiosk glows with soft yellow and white light, little sparkles twinkling behind a blinking text box. The screen reads: ''Name Your Buzzbuddy'' Lily leans over your shoulder. @@.lily;"Please name him something dumb. Like Greg. Or Professor Honeybutt."@@ Your mom raises an eyebrow. @@.girl;"Let $name choose something //he// likes,"@@ she says, though she's clearly amused. You look down at the bee. His stitched smile is unwavering—wide-eyed and buzzing with loyalty, like he's already ready to follow you into battle or help you reorganize your desk drawer. He's waiting. <<textbox "$beeplushieName" "Bumbles">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 3>>\ <<set $momplush to true>>\ <<grantAchievement "FoxPlushie">>\ You spot the ragged little fox still sitting where your mom left it, its patchy ear folded slightly forward, as if it's been eavesdropping this whole time. It hasn't moved an inch—just resting there with that crooked tail and the worn thread on its belly like it's been waiting quietly to be remembered. You glance back at your mom. She's across the aisle, gently testing the squish of a mushroom-shaped pillow, pretending to be entirely focused on the texture. But her eyes flick over, just for a second, to where that little fox still sits. She looks away again like it didn't mean anything. Like she hadn't been thinking about it since she set it down. Lily is squatting by a display of plush toast, her red panda cradled tight. She's flicked her attention from you to the fox when she notices your gaze lock on it again. @@.lily;"Did you see the way Mom looked at that thing?"@@ she asks quietly, her voice softer than usual. @@.lily;"It's like she's been thinking about it all morning."@@ You nod, walking deliberately toward the fox. It feels overdue. You pick it up and notice how its fur is matted in places and how the stitching on its belly is uneven—but there's a warmth there, like it belongs in someone's hands again. As you cradle it, the store's background noise fades. Lily sets her red panda down, eyes still flicking between you and the fox. @@.lily;"She really liked it, didn't she?"@@ she whispers. Your mom, meanwhile, is nearby, testing the fluff of a giant mushroom pillow. She notices Lily's glance and drops the pillow like it's hot. She steps toward you, her expression shifting the moment she sees you holding the fox. @@.girl;"I wasn't... thinking of getting one,"@@ your mom blurts out as soon as she sees you approach, voice quick and dismissive. But you catch the way her eyes soften when she looks at the fox a little closer. She lowers her gaze, trying to look casual, but you see her heart leaning forward. You give her a gentle smile. @@.player;"I know. But you liked this one. And... I'd really like you to have him."@@ Lily brightens beside you, sensing the meaning behind your gesture. Your mom angles her head like she's trying to think of the perfect excuse to refuse. @@.girl;"Oh, but you don't need to—"@@ she starts, voice small. Then she clears her throat and perches on her tiptoes to adjust the fox, almost instinctively smoothing his patched ear. @@.girl;"Really, though. He's... kind of sad-looking. You shouldn't have."@@ @@.player;"Mom,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'd really like to give him to you."@@ There's a pause. Lily scratches the back of her head, shifting slightly. @@.lily;"He... he does look like someone who'd be great to hug after a long day,"@@ she chips in, her voice soft but honest. Your mom's eyes flick to Lily, then back to the fox—you can almost see her heart pulling in two directions. She wraps her arm gently around the plush, holding him closer as if grounding herself. A faint tremor quivers in her hands. Finally, she exhales. @@.girl;"Alright, I'll take him,"@@ she whispers, very soft. @@.girl;"You're sweet, you know that?"@@ She brushes a hand over the fox's shabby fur. Lily grins like she just won something huge, her red panda momentarily forgotten. She skips forward and gives you a quick fist-bump. @@.lily;"Mission accomplished,"@@ she whispers with triumphant energy. You approach the counter with the ragged fox nestled in your mom's arms. Lily still hugs her red panda close as though it's her co-pilot. Jenn, with glittery nails and a warm smile, greets you before catching sight of what's in your mom's arms. @@.girl;"Aww,"@@ she murmurs, reaching out to brush a thumb over the fox's patched ear. @@.girl;"You're taking this little guy home? He's been waiting a long time. You've got to name him."@@ Your mom lifts the fox, cradling it gently, brushing its ear. Jenn steps aside to let you approach the kiosk, where a softly glowing touchscreen waits. Lily gives her red panda one last squeeze. @@.lily;"Bye, dude,"@@ she mumbles. @@.lily;"Don't get into too much trouble without me."@@ She plants a kiss on the plush's head before placing it back on a random shelf. Jenn guides the three of you to the kiosk. @@.girl;"Okay! Time for the fun part. Your fox needs a name, and we've got to customize his certificate."@@ Your mom eases into place at the kiosk, the fox nestled securely in the crook of her arm. Her eyes soften as she glances at the glowing screen and then down at the brave little plush in her hands. You and Lily hover nearby, giving her space, but sharing that warm moment. Lily shifts her weight, hugging herself in excitement. @@.lily;"Go, Mom,"@@ she whispers, a proud grin spreading across her face. Your mom's gaze drifts back to you, and her voice is soft, a little shaky with gratitude: @@.girl;"Thank you for noticing."@@ It's an understatement, but the meaning is undeniable. You nod, and she squeezes the fox as if to hold onto that warm feeling in the air. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she breathes as her fingers hover over the glowing text field and keyboard. She takes a steadying breath, and begins to type. <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 4>>\ <<set $lilyplush to true>>\ <<grantAchievement "RedPandaPlushie">>\ You stand in the soft glow of the plushie shop, cradling three contenders in your arms: the goat with its crooked grin, the ever-anxious meerkat, and the hopeful little bee. Each one is compelling in its own way. But as much as you like them, something deeper is whispering: this isn't about //you// today. Your eyes wander. A few shelves away sits the fox plushie your mom seemed to like. You smile a bit at the memory, but you don't reach for it. Then you spot Lily, standing by a rack of oversized plushies, still clutching her red panda like it's an anchor. She holds it close to her chest, chin pressed almost absent-mindedly against the fur, as she speaks to herself in a whisper: @@.lily;"I need this... No, I already have plenty... but... maybe..."@@ Her voice trails off, and your chest lurches. Her struggle is obvious. The red panda matters more than any other plushie here. You remember her pacing earlier: the tiny drama of going from plush to plush until the eventual surrender to that one perfect plush. An instant decision settles in your veins: this is the one. You set the goat, the meerkat, and the bee gently on a nearby display, deciding the one plushie you'll get won't be for you. Not this time. You approach Lily, heart beating fast. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you whisper. She looks up, startled. You nod toward the red panda in her arms. @@.player;"I want to buy him for you."@@ Her eyes go wide—jaw literally slack. She stares, stunned. @@.lily;"What? Seriously?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, voice calm so her heart doesn't trip like yours is. @@.player;"You picked that one and you clearly do like him. You deserve it."@@ Lily blinks. Once. Twice. Her defenses wobble—her usual teasing sparkle and fire give way to something like gratitude, but she's fumbling for words. Your mom, watching from the fox-shelf vantage, smiles softly. She knows this moment is big. Lily clears her throat. @@.lily;"$name, you don't have to—"@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"No. I want to."@@ Her fingers tremble slightly. @@.player;"I know it doesn't always seem like it, but you matter to me."@@ @@.lily;"Thank you..."@@ Lily says, voice small and shaky. She pauses, taking a deep breath, then resumes: @@.lily;"I mean... I really love him. He's super soft. And cute. And he looks like... like he knows all my secrets. I appreciate you doing this."@@ You make your way to the counter, and Lily sets him down like he's something precious—which, to be fair, he is. Jenn looks up, her glittery name tag catching the soft overhead light. When she sees what's in front of her, her entire face lights up. @@.girl;"Ohhh, good choice!"@@ she coos. @@.girl;"That one's one of our CozyCompanions. We only got a few in this season."@@ Lily's eyes flick from Jenn to the plushie to you then back again. She's trying to act like it's no big deal, but her hands won't stop fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie. Jenn scans the tag and offers a warm smile. @@.girl;"He's a crowd favorite. I think you all will take good care of him."@@ You glance at Lily. She's hugging her arms now, her hair a little messy, cheeks pink and eyes a touch too shiny. She won't meet your gaze, but her voice is soft when she says, @@.lily;"I... I'll do my best."@@ Behind the two of you, Mom watches the exchange with a quiet smile, one hand resting on her purse strap like she's bracing against how much she wants to tear up. She doesn't say anything—just meets your eyes and nods once. Jenn gestures to the kiosk, where a softly glowing screen prompts Lily for a name. @@.girl;"Whenever you're ready,"@@ Jenn says with a wink. Lily glances at you, holding the red panda close. She takes a breath. Then steps up to the screen. <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $textbox to false>>\ <<set $money -= 20>>\ <<if $d18plushchoice is 0>>\ You stand before the kiosk, heart pounding just enough to know this moment matters. You tap the screen—careful, considering—and finalize the name: $goatplushieName. The screen responds with a //ding// and a little burst of animated goat confetti that rains down in silly majesty. You can't help but grin—because it's adorably over-the-top, and it feels perfect. Jenn catches your smile. She announces it like a proud announcer: @@.girl;"$goatplushieName!"@@ Her voice is full of energy. @@.girl;"Excellent choice. Very noble... and very mischievous."@@ She taps a few more buttons and then turns the screen around to you so you and your goat can see it together: ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $goatplushieName!'' A digital badge appears beneath it that says "Certified Goofball." Your mom leans over, nudging Lily with a knowing smile. @@.girl;"Certified Goofball. Doesn't that say it all?"@@ Lily grins back, eyes bright. @@.girl;"Totally. He's gong to pull some crazy goat shenanigans."@@ Next, Jenn leads you to a small pastel podium with a built-in printer. Soft whirring and cheery chimes follow, and a cream-colored certificate buzzes to life. When it slides out, Jenn holds it before you with both hands. You take it gently and read: ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $goatplushieName, a Goat of Great Personality and Questionable Impulse Control, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. May your hugs be strong, your snacks be shared, and your secrets be safe. Your chest warms and you laugh softly. It really //does// feel important. Lily peeks at the certificate, bursting with a bratty grin. @@.lily;"A Goat of Great Personality and Questionable Impulse Control?! That's, like, 100% accurate."@@ Your mom chuckles, brushing a hand over the certificate. @@.girl;"He's perfect for you."@@ Jenn gently wraps $goatplushieName in a soft, protective tissue—not the rough kind, but the gentle, cushioned one that seems made for magical creatures. She places him in a sturdy white tote bag decorated with their emblem: a sleeping moon curled lovingly around a bear. @@.girl;"Take good care of him,"@@ Jenn says, leaning in conspiratorially. @@.girl;"He's one of our best troublemakers."@@ Mom picks up the bag with a fond smile, her fingers brushing against the plush fur. @@.girl;"He's in good hands."@@ You carefully slide the certificate into the bag, making sure it won't get crumpled. As you step out of the store, your mom rests a hand on your shoulder. @@.girl;"He seems like a handful,"@@ she says softly, but her warmth is tangible. You smile up at her, then look at Lily's enthusiastic bouncing. @@.lily;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But he's mine."@@ Lily adjusts the goat in the bag so his face peeks out, and adds, @@.lily;"He's the best addition to the family."@@ And walking away, the three of you carry that glow through the mall, that silly little plush goat tucked in close and brimming with promise. <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 1>>\ You take a steady breath and tap the screen. Your fingers hover for a moment before typing: $meerkatplushieName. Immediately, a soft //ding// echoes and the screen explodes in a sparkle of yellow-beige confetti. A tiny animated meerkat pops up beside a digital cactus, letting out a little squeak of celebration. Jenn's eyes go wide, like she's just witnessed something magical. @@.girl;"$meerkatplushieName! Oh my God, that is perfect. He sounds like someone who apologizes every time he sneezes,"@@ she gushes, her excitement bubbling over. You glance down at the plush in your arms. Its beady eyes seem to shimmer. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur, a grin spreading across your face. Jenn taps a few more buttons, then spins the screen around so all of you can admire the result: ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $meerkatplushieName!'' A digital badge appears beneath it that says "Overthinker, Hug Magnet, Snack Enthusiast." Your mom leans in, chuckling softly. @@.girl;"Hug magnet, huh?"@@ Lily bounces on the balls of her feet next to you. @@.lily;"Snack enthusiast—that's //so// on brand."@@ Jenn claps her hands. @@.girl;"Alright! Let's make this official."@@ She leads you to a pastel podium with a printer atop it. There's a quick whirr before a cream-colored certificate slides out, its textured paper faintly scented with vanilla. Jenn carefully presents it to you like it's a medal of honor. It reads: ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $meerkatplushieName, a proud member of the PeekPal Series, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. Though he lives in constant fear of loud noises and minor inconveniences, he will show up, be brave, and offer his tiny paws anyway. Provide snacks often. Encouragement always. You almost chuckle, but it feels too important to laugh out loud. Jenn wraps the plush in soft yellow tissue paper, sealing it with a sticker that reads: "He's safe now." She places him gently into a sky-blue tote bag printed with Cuddle Creations' sleepy-moon and bear logo. @@.girl;"Keep him close, alright?"@@ Jenn whispers, her tone suddenly tender. @@.girl;"He's the kind that needs constant reminding he's loved. But I think you're exactly who he needs."@@ Your mom steps forward and takes the bag, offering a grateful smile. You tuck the certificate into it, making sure it won't get crumpled. As you all step out of the cozy store back into the hum of the mall, your mom glances at you, a warm smile tugging at her lips. @@.girl;"$meerkatplushieName?"@@ she repeats, half-amused. @@.lily;"I guess the name isn't //too// bad,"@@ Lily murmurs. @@.player;"He looked like a $meerkatplushieName,"@@ you say softly. Mom laughs lightly. @@.girl;"Well, he looks like he'd worry if you didn't name him right."@@ You share a quiet smile, heart full. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"But I think I got it right."@@ <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 2>>\ You take a deep breath and hover your fingers over the screen for a moment, the cursor blinking expectantly. Then, gently, you type: $beeplushieName. The kiosk releases a cheerful //ding//, and the screen explodes in a riot of animated flowers, glitter trails, and pixely bees doing loop-de-loops—one bee even collides with a flower and spins comically in place. Jenn gasps dramatically, her eyes lighting up. @@.girl;"$beeplushieName! That is so, so adorable,"@@ she gushes. Your mom leans in, grinning. @@.girl;"He's going to be the sweetest little buzz king."@@ Lily, arms crossed, pipes up from behind you. @@.lily;"Okay, I didn't want to admit it, but that's kinda cute."@@ She tries to sound nonchalant. @@.lily;"He looks like he'd start a pep rally to get me to do my homework."@@ Jenn taps a few more buttons, smiling like she's officiating a heartfelt union. She turns the screen toward you both: ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $beeplushieName!'' A digital badge appears underneath: "Certified Encouragement Specialist – Level 1 Buzz" Lily nudges your arm. @@.lily;"See? He //is// an Encouragement Specialist. This plushie is basically a motivational speaker."@@ @@.girl;"Okay!"@@ Jenn claps her hand, bright and loud. @@.girl;"Let's make it official."@@ She guides you all to a curved podium where a printer hums to life. A cream-colored certificate glides out. Your mom leans in closer. @@.girl;"A keepsake,"@@ she whispers with fondness. Jenn carefully presents the certificate with both hands, reverent, as if it's fragile glass: ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $beeplushieName, proud member of the BuzzBuddy Support Squad, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. Though he is often overwhelmed and mildly vibrating with panic, he will always try his best, encourage those around him, and commit to emotional support with great enthusiasm. Buzz responsibly. You blink at the words. A warm, confident little tug springs in your chest—an encouraging whisper that murmurs that you've got this. @@.lily;"That's suspiciously cute,"@@ Lily says, staring at the certificate. @@.lily;"I don't remember them doing this when //I// bought a plush."@@ Jenn wraps $beeplushieName in a sunny yellow tissue paper scattered with little daisies, then places him into a Cuddle Creations bag. She slides the bag toward you with a wink. @@.girl;"Don't worry if he buzzes around a bit at first—he's nervous in new crowds. But give him a minute, and he's loyal as can be."@@ Mom accepts the tote bag gently, looping the strap around her wrist. @@.girl;"He's in good hands,"@@ she says softly. Lily reaches out, brushing a stray bit of glitter from the bag, then looks at you with a half-smile. @@.lily;"Okay, he's basically family now."@@ You tuck the certificate carefully into the bag, feeling the paper settle. As your trio exits the store, strolling into the mall's soft lighting, your mom glances at you with a knowing smile. @@.girl;"$beeplushieName, huh?"@@ You give a bit of a shrug, nestling the bag in front of your chest. @@.player;"He just //felt// like he had a lot of feelings."@@ Mom strokes the bag's fabric. @@.girl;"That's a perfect match, then."@@ Lily bumps your shoulder lightly and grins. @@.lily;"He's so sweet. You better make sure he doesn't bother me, though. I don't want to hear buzzing when I'm doing my nails."@@ You don't argue. Instead, you walk a little lighter. Sometimes, the right little friend is exactly what you didn't know you needed. <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 3>>\ Your mom pauses at the kiosk, the scruffy fox plushie resting in her arms. The screen glows softly in front of her as she hovers her fingers, then taps out the name: Percy. A soft //ding// sounds, and the screen blooms with golden-orange light. A tiny animated fox trots across it, twirling before it settles in the woods. ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, Percy!'' A small digital badge appears underneath: "Certified Resilience Specialist – Classy and a Little Worn In" Jenn gasps, her hands fluttering to her chest. @@.girl;"Percy! That's //so// sweet. He sounds like the kind of fox who wears cozy sweaters and knows exactly when you need a good cup of tea."@@ Your mom laughs, and something is a little wet in her eyes. She gently strokes Percy's uneven head. @@.player;"Oh, he absolutely does."@@ @@.lily;"Percy?"@@ Lily repeats. @@.lily;"It's very noble-sounding. I feel Percy's the type of fox to start a detective agency for lost feelings."@@ She pauses, glances at your mom, and cracks a small grin. @@.lily;"I'm saying it's nice."@@ Jenn hits a few more buttons, and a soft whirring hum begins. A cream-colored certificate emerges, edges decorated with tiny acorns and pawprints. Jenn presents it reverently to your mom. The certificate reads: ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that Percy, a fox of patience, wisdom, and slight grumpiness in the mornings, has been lovingly adopted by Hannah on this day. May he bring comfort, companionship, and perfectly timed cuddles when the world asks too much and your tea gets cold. He may look a little scruffy, but that just means he's lived—and is still here. Your mom's breath catches. She stares at the paper like it holds the weight of something more—something she's needed. Jenn wraps Percy in warm orange tissue paper, securing it with a sticker that reads: "He's safe now." She places him tenderly into a soft tote bag with the Cuddle Creations logo and hands it forward. Your mom hesitates—holding the bag like she's holding something fragile and precious. She presses it close to her chest, eyes shimmering. Jenn smiles, quietly content. @@.girl;"He's a good one. Quiet but loyal. I think he's been waiting for //exactly// you."@@ Your mom nods, brushing away a stray tear with her knuckle. She doesn't speak. Maybe she can't. As the three of you step out of the store, the afternoon light catches the bag in her hand. Lily links her arm with yours and your mom's—a small chain of togetherness. There's a pause in the noisy mall traffic, and then your mom murmurs, voice soft but full: @@.girl;"Thank you, $name. You didn't have to—but you did."@@ @@.player;"He looked like he needed someone,"@@ you say, unable to wipe the smile off your face. @@.player;"And I figured... maybe you did, too."@@ Your mom presses the bag even closer to her body. She glances at both of you—her two children that she loves more than anything. Her eyes shine with gratitude. Lily grins, nudging your arm. @@.lily;"Careful, Percy might overtake us and become her favorite child."@@ You all make your way to the center of the mall, fox in tow. No one's saying much anymore, but the silence feels full. Like everything that needed to be said already was. <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 4>>\ Lily stands at the kiosk, red panda plush cradled in her arms. The screen glows with pastel promise: ''Name Your Plush Friend.'' After a quiet beat, she taps at the keys: Mochi. A cheerful //ding// pops, followed by digital confetti, cherry blossoms, and a tiny animated red panda spinning across the display. Jenn watches with a bright smile. @@.girl;"Mochi! That is ''so'' adorable,"@@ she coos. @@.girl;"Perfect name. He's round and sweet, but definitely has some hidden sass."@@ Lily's cheeks tint pink, but her grin is proud. @@.lily;"Yeah, that's 'cause he's actually me in plush form."@@ Your mom hovers beside her, eyes soft and warm as she stares at the red panda. @@.girl;"Mochi, huh? I like it. It suits you."@@ Jenn taps a few more buttons and turns the screen toward all three of you: ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, Mochi!'' A small digital badge appears underneath: "Certified Cuddle Connoisseur – Keep Him Close" Lily bounces on her toes. @@.lily;"Cuddle Connoisseur? Yes. That's //definitely// him."@@ Jenn steps back and leads Lily to the printer. A cream-colored certificate slides into view, framed by bamboo shoots and little pawprints. With practiced care, Jenn presents it like a treasured keepsake. Lily takes it from her: ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that Mochi, a red panda of epic softness and undercover sass, has been lovingly adopted by Lily on this day. May he offer endless hugs, share secret snacks, and remind you that sometimes the sanest thing is a midnight plushie cuddle. Your mom's eyes mist over just a bit. @@.girl;"He's going to take good care of you,"@@ she says, placing a hand on Lily's shoulder. Jenn wraps Mochi in soft tissue paper printed with mini bamboo shoots, seals it with a sticker, and places him into a gentle rose-pink tote bag. @@.girl;"He's a keeper,"@@ Jenn murmurs. @@.girl;"You two are going to be great together."@@ Lily accepts the bag like it holds everything she needed, clutching it close. Her grin is huge and shaky with happiness. Outside the store, the soft hum of the mall returns—fluorescent lights above, echoing footsteps blending with distant chatter. It feels a little louder now after the hush of Cuddle Creations. But Lily doesn't seem to notice. She hugs to bag close to her chest, her arms wrapped around it like it might just float away if she lets go. The paper inside rustles gently as she shifts it, and for a second, she just stands there. Quiet. Still. Then she says, almost too casually, @@.lily;"I really thought you were gonna pick one for yourself."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"Well, I was going to."@@ She frowns, looking down at the tote again. @@.lily;"But you didn't."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It felt more right to get you Mochi."@@ She's quiet again, her grip tightening slightly. @@.lily;"I mean..."@@ she starts, voice small. @@.lily;"You didn't have to. I would've been fine."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"But I wanted to."@@ Her eyes lift to yours then—wide, a little glassy. @@.lily;"That was like... I dunno. Really nice of you. Nobody other than Mom has ever gotten me a plush before just 'cause."@@ You open your mouth, but she keeps going, fast now, like if she doesn't say it all at once she'll lose the nerve: @@.lily;"I mean, I know I mess around and say dumb stuff and I'm loud and annoying sometimes, but like... I see the stuff you do. And I'm ''really'' glad you're my brother. Or sister. Or whatever you're figuring out right now. Just—you. I'm glad you're you."@@ Your mom pretends like she's not paying attention, but there's something tender in her expression that she doesn't try to hide. You smile at Lily. @@.player;"Thanks. I'm glad you're you, too."@@ Lily sniffs and immediately makes a face. @@.lily;"Ugh. Gross. Emotional sibling moment. I take it all back."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Too late. You said it."@@ She grumbles under her breath but her smile gives her away. She hugs the bag tighter, like it means more than she knows how to say. And together, the three of you drift back into the mall like something small but important just settled into place. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp5 to true>>\ You step into Cuddle Creations, and the rest of the mall might as well not exist anymore. The air changes immediately—warmer and softer, like walking into a memory of your childhood bedroom. The lighting is warm and glowy, bouncing off clouds and stars hand-painted on the ceiling in swirling pastel blues and purples. Shelves curve like waves around the store, packed to the brim with plushies: bears, bunnies, bees, dragons, dinosaurs, cats shaped like croissants, sharks with sneakers on, frogs wearing crowns. There's no real order—just magic. Lily lets out a dramatic gasp. @@.lily;"Oh my God,"@@ she whispers, running ahead of you, practically vibrating. @@.lily;"Look at this guy—he's a goose in a hoodie. He's wearing tiny shoes! You guys. He has laces."@@ You watch as she picks up the goose and cradles it like she's just been handed a newborn. @@.lily;"I'm naming him Dr. Quackles. No one talk to me. We have to bond."@@ Your mom follows behind, eyes wide, letting her purse slip to one side as she reaches out to touch a squishy-looking pink octopus. @@.girl;"This place is kind of amazing,"@@ she murmurs. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. it really is."@@ Lily's already moved on, Dr. Quackles lying abandoned on a shelf. @@.lily;"There's a banana slug wearing a top hat. What is this place? How do they //know// me?"@@ She lifts it dramatically, spinning in place. @@.lily;"We are ''not'' leaving until I touch every single animal in here."@@ Your mom laughs and picks up a tiny axolotl plush that fits in the palm of her hand. She turns it over thoughtfully. @@.girl;"Serious question,"@@ she says, glancing your way with a small smile. @@.girl;"Do you still like these? I mean, you're eighteen now. Not that you can't—but..."@@ Her voice is gentle and it's clear she's just curious. It's a moment where she's trying to meet you where you are. You reach for a soft, sleepy-looking bear plush, its arms slightly raised like it's offering a hug. You squeeze it just a little. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I still do. It's comforting. They don't need anything from you. They just exist. It's kind of... peaceful."@@ Your mom's smile stretches, her shoulders softening. @@.girl;"That makes sense,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"You were always the one who didn't let go of things. Stuffed animals, your old drawings, even that rock collection in your drawer."@@ Lily pauses mid-hug of a round frog and snorts. @@.lily;"Wait, you //still// have that rock collection?"@@ @@.player;"Don't out me in public,"@@ you mutter. @@.lily;"I'm just saying,"@@ she says, grinning. @@.lily;"I support you, but also, I can't believe you put googly eyes on one of those rocks."@@ Your mom sets the axolotl back and picks up a long caterpillar plush with fuzzy antennae. She hugs it tight against her chest like she's testing something out. @@.girl;"It's not a bad thing, you know,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Letting yourself like things. It's been nice, seeing you do that today."@@ She lowers her voice just slightly. @@.girl;"It really does feel like I'm getting to know you all over again. And I like this version."@@ Something tugs in your chest, warm and fragile. @@.player;"Thanks, Mom,"@@ you say, meaning it. Lily's off again, buried in a pile of round, bakery-themed plushies. @@.lily;"Okay, real talk,"@@ she calls. @@.lily;"There's a baguette with eyebrows and I need you to experience it with me."@@ You walk over to a lower display with plushies shaped like loaves of bread—soft crusts, sleepy embroidered faces, arms and legs poking out. Some are cinnamon rolls. Some are whole toast families. Lily holds up a plush that looks like a very tired pretzel. @@.lily;"He looks like he's been through something. I love him."@@ Your mom catches up, clearly more amused than she expected to be. @@.girl;"So, what's the plan?"@@ she asks. @@.girl;"Are you looking for someone small for your desk, or are we going full emotional-support burrito?"@@ <<button "Ask what plushie they think you'd be" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18momlilyplushieq to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momlilyplushieq" "Ask what plushie they think you'd be" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask your mom and Lily what plushies they would want" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18momlilyplushieq to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momlilyplushieq" "Ask your mom and Lily what plushies they would want" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask if they think it's weird that you still like this stuff" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18momlilyplushieq to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momlilyplushieq" "Ask if they think it's weird that you still like this stuff" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask mom what plushie she had as a kid" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18momlilyplushieq to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_momlilyplushieq" "Ask mom what plushie she had as a kid" "story">><</button>>

<<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $outfit to $tempoutfit>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You take your time in the fitting room. Piece by piece, you try each item on—the cream top, the skirt, even the fancy black dress. They settle onto your frame like they were waiting. There's no awkward tugging or uncomfortable shifting. Just warmth. Just you. The skirt swishes around your legs with a light, playful motion every time you move, and the top rests gently against your chest. You do a little turn in the mirror. You don't even flinch. Instead, you smile. You //like// what you see. There's a quiet thrill in how natural it feels. How your shoulders relax, how your posture changes without even thinking. This isn't pretending. It's //discovering//. You slip back into the clothes you wore in after, slower than usual, carefully folding each item as you place it back onto the hook. Your hand lingers on the black slit skirt. You hesitate. You glance at your reflection one last time, and your heart answers before your brain catches up. ''I want this.'' You step out, cheeks warming as the soft store music greets you again. Lily is the first to react, scooting forward. @@.lily;"So... spill it. How was it?"@@ Her words tumble out, fast and real. @@.lily;"Did it feel... okay?"@@ The question hangs between playful and earnest, wrapped tightly in that awkward care only a younger sister can deliver. You slump your shoulders a little and exhale. @@.player;"Yeah. More than okay, actually. It felt... good."@@ You see your words echo in your mom's eyes: a swirling mix of surprise and pride. She steps forward, reaching out to squeeze your hand. @@.girl;"Then it's perfect,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"I'm glad it felt right."@@ You glance down at the stack of clothes in your arms. It's not a costume. It's //you//, quietly taking shape. @@.lily;"Are you gonna get it?"@@ Lily asks, tugging at her hoodie sleeves awkwardly. @@.lily;"Like... for real?"@@ Mom watches Lily, then turns back to you—gentle authority in her gaze. @@.girl;"It's your choice. If it feels right, go for it."@@ You're not sure how much you'll buy. Maybe just one piece. But that doesn't matter. What //does// matter is you're buying something for you. And it feels like the person you're buying for is real. <<else>>\ The clothes fit. Technically. The sleeves aren't too tight, the skirt falls just right, and the soft tops don't cling in a weird way. You look... fine. Objectively speaking, maybe even kind of good. You can imagine someone else wearing them and pulling it off without blinking. But as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you feel a weird kind of distance building between you and your reflection. You tug on the collar on the cream top. Adjust the waistband of the skirt. Do a half-turn. It's not bad, but it doesn't feel like you. You want it to. You try. You picture how this would look in public. Maybe if your posture was different or if your head was clearer. You sigh, pressing your palms against the sides of your thighs. You're not disgusted, not upset. Just... disconnected. Like this is someone else's closet and you're just borrowing their role. You change back, fold the pieces, and pick them up. You step out of the changing room and make your way toward the front, the sound of faint pop music following you. Your mom notices your silence, but doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to. You're not sure what, if anything, you'll buy. But something in you knows this wasn't really about the clothes. And maybe... maybe that's why it's so hard to decide. <</if>>\ <<button "Is there anything to buy?" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily NovaTrend 3">><</button>>

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ The bag swings softly at your side, the NovaTrend logo catching the light as you step into the mall. It's not heavy, but it feels full—full of something //real//. You carried it here because inside is something that made you feel more like yourself, for once. Mom walks beside you, quiet and steady, her eys tracking your expression with warmth. She's not saying anything yet—she doesn't //need// to. You remember that caring look she gave when you emerged from the fitting room. You tried to hide how bright you felt, but she saw you anyway. Lily drifts up to your other side, her footsteps light. She glances at the bag, then you, with a half-smile. @@.lily;"So,"@@ she says softly—quiet, but eager. @@.lily;"You liked it, right?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, letting your shoulders drop. @@.player;"I liked it a lot."@@ Lily nods, crossing her arms but still close. @@.lily;"You looked comfortable,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"I never saw you that comfy before. Not even in those cargo shorts."@@ You laugh, not sure whether to be happy or offended. @@.player;"Thanks, Lils."@@ Mom squeezes your shoulder as you pass a storefront window. Your reflection greets you—someone familiar but new, a version of you that isn't wrong. Not perfect, maybe—but clearer. @@.player;"It feels good,"@@ you admit, voice low. You walk a little taller after that. Still nervous. But proud. Like maybe—finally—you've taken a step not toward someone you're supposed to be, but toward someone you already are. <<else>>\ You step out of NovaTrend holding the bag a little awkwardly, like you're not sure whether to treat it like a prize or a massive mistake. Mom walks beside you, eyes flicking to the bag. She doesn't say anything yet—maybe she senses the tightness in your chest, the way you're bracing yourself. Lily trails a step behind, brow furrowing and then smoothing back into her usual midway expression between teasing and caring. She clears her throat a little too loudly. @@.lily;"So... how was it? You don't seem thrilled."@@ You swallow, fiddling with the bag's edge. @@.player;"Yeah. It was... fine."@@ The store associate had handed it to you with a smile and genuine goodbye. But now, with the bag in your grip, your heart skips uncertain beats. Will these clothes feel like home or a costume? Was it someone else you were shopping for? The lights feel brighter, the corridors more open. You find yourself half-checking your reflection in the glass storefronts. Mom reaches over, sensing your anxiety, and taps your back gently. @@.girl;"You did okay in there,"@@ she says softly. Lily steps up beside you and nudges your arm. @@.lily;"Yeah. You looked... good, I guess."@@ She glances down, then straightens. @@.lily;"Just wanted to say that."@@ You force a small smile. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ Lily clears her throat and kicks the tile floor with the tip of her sneaker. @@.lily;"I mean, if it ever feels right, you should wear it. No pressure, of course, but... it looked good."@@ Though the uncertainty still hums low, there's something steadier underneath: you tried. And sometimes, that's enough. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp to true>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ NovaTrend feels like it stepped out of a magazine the moment you approach—pristine glass, sleek black trim, mannequins in effortless poses, and a gentle hint of clean linen and fruit drifting out whenever the door opens. It's stylish without being showy, like trendy doesn't need to shout. You hover at the entrance for a second. Lily's already wading into the racks, inspecting tops. Your mom steps in beside you with a small smile, patient and steady. Lily glances back, holding up a random top in front of her. @@.lily;"Do you think this fits me?"@@ she asks, half-grinning. @@.lily;"Honestly? I might just shoplift if this store has this many cute outfits. They can't expect me //not// to steal."@@ She tosses the hanger casually and jogs over to another rack. Your mom sighs before bursting out into gentle laughter. @@.girl;"Let's see what else they have, $name."@@ The store's gentle hum wraps around you—warm lighting casting golden pools across the racks of crop cardigans, puff-sleeve tops, and easy-fitting skirts. Lily browses with practiced ease, her fingers trailing over fabrics as she murmurs under her breath. @@.lily;"They're all cute,"@@ she mutters. @@.lily;"Might have to buy something later."@@ A sales associate appears a few seconds later with an effortless bounce that suggests they've worn every piece in the store twice already. Their name tag reads "Elle (they/them)" and they catch the hesitation in your body language instantly. @@.girl;"Hey there! Want a hand? I can pick out a few pieces you might like."@@ Lily perks up. @@.lily;"Oh yeah, he //definitely// needs saving,"@@ Lily teases, but it's only sharp on the surface. @@.lily;"Please, fashion rescue."@@ Elle vanishes, then returns with a small stack of clothes—nothing outrageous, just trendy pieces that seem to beckon. A path of curved racks lead toward the fitting room. @@.girl;"Try whatever you like,"@@ Elle says, nodding to the track of stalls. @@.girl;"No pressure."@@ Mom rubs your shoulder. @@.girl;"Take your time."@@ @@.lily;"Don't freak out, alright?"@@ Lily half-jokes. @@.lily;"I expect something cool."@@ You take a slow breath, feeling the new fabric on your fingers. There's warmth in the way Lily hovers, not getting too close, but not letting you disappear into the sea of clothes either. Your mom's silent kindness hums behind it all. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you mutter, mustering up confidence. @@.player;"See you soon."@@ Lily gives you one last nod. @@.lily;"You got this."@@ @@.girl;"We'll be right here,"@@ Mom echoes. At the fitting rooms, you find a calm, welcoming space: soft lights, a mirror framed gently, and a wooden bench. You hold the chosen outfits like quiet treasures. You step inside the changing room, closing the curtain behind you. The world softens to just you, the clothes, and a mirror. <<button "Try outfits on" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily NovaTrend 1">><</button>>

<<if $d18trygoth is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "GothOutfit">>\ <<if $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $tempshoes to $shoes>>\ <<set $outfit to 5>>\ <<set $shoes to 9>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 6>>\ You pause with your hand hovering over the hanger. Your fingers brush the lace edging, and something in your chest gives the tiniest tug. Maybe it's curiosity. Maybe it's a challenge. Maybe it's that voice that whispers "what if" before you can shut it down. You glance up at the goth girl. She's still watching, arms crossed and hips cocked like she's got all the time in the world. There's no smirk though, just quiet expectation. You swallow. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'll try it."@@ Her face lights up—not in excitement, exactly, but satisfaction. @@.girl;"Knew it,"@@ she mutters. Then she hands over the hanger. The outfit feels heavier in your hands now that it's yours, even temporarily. You glance toward the fitting rooms, then back toward the front of the store—your mom is there, hovering just outside the entrance, pretending very hard that she isn't. She catches your eye and raises her brows. Lily catches it too and whispers, @@.lily;"She's totally gonna freak if you come out looking hot."@@ You don't say anything in response, opting to turn and walk toward the fitting rooms. Inside, the space is narrow and dim, with a single full-length mirror and a flickering overhead light that hums softly like it's judging you. You hang the outfit carefully, then start to change. The dress fits better than it has any right to. It slips over your shoulders and hugs your frame without clinging. The off-shoulder neckline brushes against your collarbones. The chain belt clicks softly as you tighten it, and when you step into the combat boots, you actually feel //taller//. Not just literally, but figuratively as well. You turn to face the mirror. <<set $shatterboxCG to true>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhairtie to $hairtie>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_Shatterbox">>\ For a second, you freeze. You barely recognize yourself. But not in a bad way. The person looking back at you fits into the moment. The black lace, the boots, the slightly chaotic layering of softness and sharpness—it all just makes sense in a weird way. You tilt your head. Maybe this isn't how you'd dress every day, but in this moment, you think you look pretty damn good. From outside the curtain, the attendant's voice cuts through: @@.girl;"So?"@@ You take one more glance at the mirror before responding. @@.player;"I can't lie, it's kind of awesome,"@@ you call back, a little breathless. You hear a satisfied hum. @@.girl;"Told you."@@ <<button "Step outside" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily ShatterBox 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ You freeze before the dress, hand hovering. It's black lace whispers familiarity—even if you've never touched it before. That tiny thrill twists in your chest. But then your fingers curl away, retreating back to your side. You offer a polite smile. @@.player;"I don't think it's really me,"@@ you admit, voice steady. The sales associate pauses. The image of disappointment flits across her face—just for a heartbeat—before she recovers. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, her voice calm as she puts the hanger back into place. @@.girl;"No pressure. It's not for everyone."@@ Lily steps beside you, leaning on a nearby rack. She gives the dress a final once-over, eyebrows raised. @@.girl;"I'm not even into emo stuff, but it does look cool."@@ The associate shifts and offers a dry laugh. @@.girl;"Yeah... and if it doesn't get chosen today, it'll either get thrown away, sit in storage forever, or end up on some mall goth TikTok poser."@@ She shrugs. @@.girl;"But I guess it'll be here if you change your mind in the next few hours."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you whisper, and turn away. Lily watches the dress as it retreats into the racks. Her eyes flick to you, concern and pride mixing in her gaze. @@.lily;"Hey, there's no shame,"@@ she says softly. @@.lily;"It is a lot."@@ The associate calls after you as you step toward the exit: @@.girl;"Hope you find something that doesn't totally suck!"@@ The heavy music and moody lights of ShatterBox fade behind you, replaced by the mall's bright, neutral calm. You spot Mom waiting near a dusty potted plant, looking a bit relieved to be out of the darkness. @@.girl;"Well,"@@ she says, voice gentle and curious. @@.girl;"Find anything good?"@@ You glance at Lily, who just shrugs. @@.lily;"There was this one outfit. Cute, but pretty intense."@@ Mom arches an eyebrow. @@.girl;"The whole store was intense."@@ You chuckle softly. @@.player;"Definitely a vibe."@@ Your mom gives you a warm nod. @@.girl;"Some places speak to you. Others don't. And that's okay. You don't have to force it."@@ You nod back, feeling a bit lighter. @@.lily;"Also, did you see those boots?"@@ Lily asks. @@.lily;"They looked like they could survive the end of the world."@@ Your mom lets out a laugh. @@.girl;"Why, are you thinking about buying a pair?"@@ @@.lily;"Not for me,"@@ Lily replies, shrugging. @@.lily;"But Mom, if you want something indestructible..."@@ She throws you a quick wink. @@.girl;"At my age?"@@ your mom asks, giving Lily a stern look. @@.girl;"My ankles wouldn't survive."@@ Lily snorts, swinging an arm around your shoulders. @@.lily;"Let's find something that //doesn't// require you to be a goth."@@ You fall into step, and as the group moves forward, the moment behind you fades. You can just sense that ahead lies something else, something yours. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ You take a breath, deep and slow, one hand tightening around the curtain, the other brushing your side—your fingers catching on the cold metal of the chain belt. The fabric feels snug, heavier than your usual clothes, but not uncomfortable. More like... intentional. Like it's holding something in place. Your heart is thudding. Not from fear, exactly. It's a sharper feeling, like when you're standing right at the edge of something and about to take the first step—not sure if you're going to fly or fall, but knowing you //have// to move. And then you step out. The boots thud softly against the concrete as you walk forward. You glance up and see yourself in the full-length mirror down the hall—and for a second, your mind just stops. You don't look silly. Or fake. Or like someone trying to be something they're not. You look //real//. Like this version of you has always been there, just waiting for permission to exist. Lily's eyes widen as she looks up from her phone, mid-scroll. @@.lily;"Oh, dang."@@ You blink, half expecting a joke. But she doesn't say anything else—just stares a second longer, then stands up straighter. @@.lily;"Okay, that actually looks really cool,"@@ she says, trying to sound casual. @@.lily;"It's not scary, unlike some goths. It's different. But good different."@@ @@.player;"You think?"@@ you ask, the words quieter than you mean them to be. @@.lily;"Yeah."@@ Lily shrugs, but her voice is more sure this time. @@.lily;"I mean, it's a //lot// of outfit, but you pull it off. You actually look kinda confident. And not fake confident. Like, real."@@ You're not used to her sounding like this—less sharp, less performative. She's not throwing in a sarcastic punchline or trying to make it funny. She's just being honest. The salesgirl nods with a knowing smile. @@.girl;"Told you. You've got the look."@@ You let out a short breath—almost a laugh—and turn toward the mirror again. @@.player;"I... kinda love it,"@@ you admit. Lily shifts next to you. @@.lily;"You should. You look like someone who's not afraid of anything."@@ You glance at her, surprised. She immediately backpedals. @@.lily;"Not, like, in a dramatic way. Just, y'know... braver than I'd be. I'd look like a deranged bat in that thing."@@ You laugh, and she huffs, but her smile creeps back. Out at the front of the store, your mom finally looks up. Her eyes widen for a heartbeat—then she softens. There's no confusion or concern in her face. Just a steady pride. The kind that sees you fully and doesn't flinch. @@.girl;"You wear that like you've been waiting for it, huh?"@@ the salesgirl says, tilting her head. Your throat tightens for a second, but you nod. Not shy, not scared. Just steady. @@.player;"Maybe I have,"@@ you say. And this time, it feels like the truth. <<else>>\ You push the curtain open slowly, stepping out into the soft light of the shop, arms folded tightly over your chest. The boot thuds as you walk, and the dress sways a little more than you're comfortable with. You try your best to walk normally, to not overthink how the belt rests on your hips or how much shoulder the neckline shows. Lily looks up first from where she's sprawled dramatically across a black velvet chair near the fitting rooms. Her eyes widen. @@.lily;"Oh my God, $name,"@@ she says, sitting up. @@.lily;"You look like the final boss of a vampire video game. I mean that in a good way."@@ You glance at the mirror. And... yeah. It fits. Technically. The look is bold, sure. But it feels like you're wearing someone else's skin. Like you're trying to pull off a part in a play you never auditioned for. You don't hate it—but standing there, you feel like everyone's staring at you. Even if they aren't. The store attendant lets out a low, approving whistle. @@.girl;"Okay, wow. Didn't think you'd actually commit,"@@ she says, crossing her arms with a satisfied grin. @@.girl;"But yeah, it looks good on you. Edgy but clean. Very creature of the night."@@ You give a tight-lipped smile, fidgeting with the edge of the sleeve. @@.player;"I mean, it //is// cool. I'm just not sure if it fits me."@@ Your mom looks up from her phone and blinks—clearly surprised, but not in a bad way. She stands, scanning you from head to toe. @@.girl;"You look nice,"@@ she says carefully. @@.girl;"It's a little different, but it doesn't look bad. Just takes some getting used to."@@ You nod, unsure how exactly to respond. Lily stands now too, circling you slowly like a tiny fashion goblin. @@.lily;"Okay, real talk? It works. I'm not saying you should, like, audition or anything—but you're 90% of the way there if you wanted to star in Twilight."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"And the other 10%?"@@ @@.lily;"A tragic backstory,"@@ Lily says, grinning. @@.lily;"And maybe eyeliner."@@ You roll your eyes before looking back at the mirror. You don't hate what you see. But you're not sure if it's a door you're ready to walk through. Still... maybe trying it was the point. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily ShatterBox 3">><</button>>

You're still facing the mirror, the soft overhead lighting catching in the silver eyelets of the boots and the faint glint of the choker. The outfit hugs you just enough to feel intentional. You're not sure it is about it, exactly, but you can't look away. Lily stands just off to the side, quiet for once. She's chewing gently on a piece of gum (you don't know where it came from) and hugging her hoodie tighter around herself like she's not used to being in a store this dark and moody. But she keeps glancing at your reflection, then at you, then back again. She doesn't say anything, but her expression is that same one she makes when she's watching an emotional scene in a show and pretending it's not affecting her. Then the salesgirl saunters over. Her boots thud softly with each step, and she walks like she owns the place. Arms crossed, a half-smirk curling at the edge of her lip, she looks at you like you're a project she's proud of. @@.girl;"So, are you buying it?"@@ she asks, like it's not even a question—just a formality. You blink, a little startled by the bluntness. @@.player;"All of it?"@@ you ask, glancing down. @@.player;"Dress, boots, belt, choker, fishnets?"@@ @@.girl;"Whole look,"@@ she says, gesturing lazily at your general direction. @@.girl;"It came together weirdly well. Honestly, it's kinda rude how good it looks."@@ @@.lily;"It can't be cheap,"@@ Lily whispers. @@.player;"It really can't be,"@@ you respond. @@.player;"How much is it?"@@ @@.girl;"Fifty bucks,"@@ she says. You freeze. @@.player;"Wait—fifty?"@@ The girl shrugs like it's nothing. @@.girl;"Not a discount. A corporate screw-up. Clearance tags glitched out, I bundled it as a single display outfit, and here we are. Normally the boots alone are, like, eighty. That belt's from an indie designer who hand-makes stuff in her basement and charges triple if you breathe too loud."@@ She circles you once, slow and considering, then taps her chin with one painted nail. @@.girl;"But today, and just today, the universe is feeling generous. You can get all of that for less than a new video game."@@ Your mom, who's moved hanging out near the front counter, finally steps closer. @@.girl;"That's actually kind of a steal,"@@ she says, tilting her head. The goth girl grins and throws her a wink. @@.girl;"Right? No soul-selling required. Unless you //want// to throw that in. We've got a form."@@ You glance back at the mirror. The you in the reflection looks more solid than usual. @@.lily;"Dude,"@@ Lily says from beside you. @@.lily;"I don't even //like// that kind of fashion, but it fits you. All I'm saying is, if I were you, I'd get it."@@ You glance at her, surprised. She shrugs, then mutters, @@.lily;"I think it's cool you even tried it on."@@ The salesgirl folds her arms again, waiting. @@.girl;"No pressure,"@@ she says, softer this time. @@.girl;"But like I said, you look like you //get// it. Most people don't."@@ You glance at your mom. She meets your eyes for a second, then smiles. @@.girl;"I //did// give you spending money,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"And if it makes you feel like yourself... well, that sounds like a good purchase to me."@@ You look back at the mirror. The reflection stares back, steady and confident in a way that feels earned. You run your fingers lightly along the hem of the dress again, and you can feel your pulse in your throat—fast, not from fear, but from anticipation. @@.girl;"So, what's the verdict?"@@ the salesgirl asks, tilting her head. Your reflection waits. So do you. <<if $money > 49>>\ <<button "Buy it" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily ShatterBox 4">>\<<set $d18buygoth to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_buygoth" "Buy it" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Don't buy it" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily ShatterBox 4">>\<<set $d18buygoth to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_buygoth" "Don't buy it" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18buygoth is true>>\ <<set $outfitUnlock[5] to true>>\ <<set $money -= 50>>\ You stare at your reflection for a few more seconds, the air around you humming like it's waiting for a decision. The dress clings just enough, the boots make you feel grounded, and the belt, absurdly, feels like armor. There's a version of you staring back that looks self-assured and cinematic—like they walked straight out of a dream. @@.player;"I want it,"@@ you say, voice firm and quieter than expected. The goth salesgirl grins instantly, like she's been sitting on that smile the whole time. @@.girl;"I fucking knew it. You've got the cheekbones and spirit for the outfit."@@ Lily lets out a half-laugh behind you. @@.lily;"I can't believe it,"@@ she says, her voice tinged with amusement. You step forward—still wearing the full outfit—and she doesn't ask you to take it off. @@.girl;"Okay, look, technically I'm supposed to make people change before ringing them up,"@@ she says, unlocking the register. She glances up at you. @@.girl;"But honestly? For this? We're gonna pretend that rule never existed. The vibes are too strong."@@ She types something into the register, taps the screen, and then nods at the total. @@.girl;"Fifty even. A full designer outfit for less than a full tank of gas. You've just hit a retail jackpot."@@ You tap your phone against the reader without hesitation. Lily makes a small fist-pump behind you. @@.lily;"Let's gooo,"@@ she whispers like she's watching a sports game. Behind you, your mom watches quietly, eyebrows lifted just a bit, her lips drawn into a line that's definitely trying not to smile too much. @@.girl;"You sure?"@@ she says gently, giving you one last chance to back out. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm sure."@@ The goth girl hands you the receipt like she's passing over something sacred. @@.girl;"Just wear it out,"@@ she says, almost reverent. @@.girl;"It deserves to be seen."@@ You turn toward the store exit. Your boots hit the floor with a soft thud, the choker catching a little light as you move. Your mom falls into step beside you, Lily just behind, spinning the shopping bag with your old clothes like she's guarding treasure. @@.girl;"You really like it, huh?"@@ your mom asks. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You nod. @@.player;"I do."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I guess,"@@ you murmur. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"Well, let's go show it off a little."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ You stand there for a moment longer, still facing the mirror. The outfit fits. It really does. Something about it clicks. But even so... it doesn't feel like something you can take home. You take a small breath, steadying yourself, and turn away from your reflection. @@.player;"I think I'm gonna pass,"@@ you say, your voice quiet but clear. The salesgirl arches a brow, surprised—but not offended. @@.girl;"Sure. Little disappointing, but your call."@@ Lily looks over the little jewelry rack where she's been pretending not to watch. @@.lily;"Really?"@@ she asks, not judgmental, just curious. You shrug. @@.player;"it's cool. Just... not ready, I guess."@@ She tilts her head, then nods like she gets it. @@.lily;"Fair,"@@ she says. Then, quietly: @@.lily;"Still think you looked kind of awesome, though."@@ You smile faintly and slip back into the fitting room. The removal process feels slower than you expect—every buckle and zipper reminding you how easily this version of you can vanish again. But you fold the outfit neatly. When you hand it back to the salesgirl, she takes it without a word, just giving you a nod. As you step back out into the mall, the noise and light rush back in—normalcy hitting like a wave. Lily walks beside you, swinging her arms a little too dramatically. @@.lily;"$name, if you ever //do// get that kind of outfit, I'm taking a thousand pictures,"@@ she says, giggling. <<if $confident > $shy>>\ @@.player;"Sure, I'll even pose for them,"@@ you reply. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I'll break your phone,"@@ you reply. <</if>>\ Your mom doesn't say anything at first, just places a hand on your back for a moment as you walk together. It's a quiet gesture, but steady. @@.girl;"Not the one?"@@ she asks, finally speaking up. You shake your head. @@.player;"Cool look. Just... not today, I guess."@@ And just like that, you're back in the mall crowd again. Still the same. But maybe... a little more aware of what goth fashion actually looks like. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><</button>>

<<set $shoeUnlock to []>> <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ You slip off the shoe you were trying on and set it carefully on the bench you're sitting on. Lily is leaning against a nearby rack, watching with an amused half-smile. @@.lily;"How's it feel?"@@ she asks, voice curious. You exhale, shoulders loosening. @@.player;"Pretty good. I think I'm done trying."@@ Before you can say more, a sales associate—crew-cut, crisp store polo, clipboard tucked under one arm—steps forward with a polite smile. Lily gives him a quick once-over while Mom meets your eyes and gives a small, encouraging nod. @@.boy;"Trying a few options today?"@@ he asks gently, eyeing the lineup of shoes on the bench. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"Could I get the pricing?"@@ He smiles and begins. @@.boy;"First, the BreezeAir Lows with the butterfly design. That's a limited, designer collab—forty dollars. They're pretty in-demand right now."@@ Lily perks up and snatches the butterfly pair, giving them a little shake. @@.lily;"Fancy but not too flashy. I can see why they're so expensive."@@ @@.girl;"The design is lovely,"@@ your mom states, chuckling softly. @@.girl;"The price though..."@@ The associate moves on to the neon trainers. @@.boy;"These SwiftCharge Trainers feature breathable mesh and NeonGrip soles—designed for active days. Thirty dollars."@@ @@.lily;"Maybe these would come in handy if you decide to run a marathon or something,"@@ Lily jokes. @@.player;"Me? A marathon?"@@ you ask, grinning. @@.player;"More like dashing to class."@@ The associate then gestures toward the flats. @@.boy;"The SomaSoft options—white, black, and brown—are everyday classics at fifteen dollars combined."@@ Finally, his finger lands on the white low-tops. @@.boy;"And these Streetlace Lights are twenty dollars. They've been popular for how well they match anything."@@ Finished, the associate folds his hands behind his back. @@.boy;"Take your time. I can box them up when you're ready."@@ You pause, looking at the four pairs. Butterflies, neon flair, classic flats, and the clean white sneakers. The soft bustle of the store fades into a hum as you weigh each. Lily leans in close. @@.lily;"No pressure, but I already have my eye on the butterfly ones. They're just right."@@ @@.girl;"Just trust your instincts, $name,"@@ Mom counters, voice calm and encouraging. <<button "Choose some shoes to get" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily StepUp 3">><</button>>

<<if $shoeUnlock[2] isnot true and $shoeUnlock[3] isnot true and $shoeUnlock[7] isnot true and $shoeUnlock[8] isnot true>> <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ You linger on the bench for another moment, your fingers resting lightly on a sleep pair of sneakers. They're solid—sharp even—but something inside you pulls you back. Could be the price. Could be uncertainty. Whatever it is, you're just not ready to step into new shoes right now. Lily stands beside you, hands tucked into her pockets. She glances over at the shoes, then back at you. @@.lily;"You sure?"@@ she asks, voice soft but curious. You give her a small shrug. @@.player;"I think I'm good for now."@@ Mom watches quietly from a few feet away, offering you a gentle, patient look. @@.girl;"No pressure."@@ The sales associate returns, offering a friendly smile. @@.boy;"Have you decided yet?"@@ You manage to shake your head politely. @@.player;"I think I'll pass this time, thank you."@@ He gives a professional smile—just slightly disappointed—but adds encouragingly, @@.boy;"That's totally fine. Feel free to come back anytime. You've got a great eye."@@ Lily gives a small, earnest smile. @@.lily;"Yeah. You looked good with the Vektix shoes on. Just saying."@@ You stand and slip back into your own shoes, brushing your hands on your top. Mom takes your arm slightly, and Lily falls in step beside you. Together, you step away from the bench and head toward the store entrance. The doors slide open behind you as you rejoin the mall's humming flow. You didn't leave with a new pair of shoes today—but that's okay. You went. You looked. Maybe next time you'll try again. And somehow, that feels like enough. <<else>>\ <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ You run your hand along the shoe one last time, the weight of the decision finally settling into something solid. Not pressure—just quiet certainty. These feel right. Lily is waiting beside you, arms crossed. She throws you a look that's half teasing, half genuine. @@.lily;"You're getting it?"@@ she asks. You glance over at Lily, then your mom, then back to the shoes. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you nod. @@.player;"I'll get them."@@ She smiles immediately, as if she was waiting for you to make the call on your own. @@.girl;"That's great,"@@ she says softly. It's in her eyes: the pride of watching you choose on your own. The sales associate appears just in time. He's holding a box like he already knows what's next. @@.boy;"Great choice,"@@ he says, offering a polite nod. @@.boy;"I'll ring them up for you at the front."@@ You follow him toward the register. Mom stands quietly beside you, her gaze content as you pay. Lily watches from a step back, having to stretch her neck to see the shoe get boxed. When the associate places the box in the bag and folds the receipt inside, he looks at you with a brief but sincere smile. @@.boy;"Enjoy them."@@ You return it before stepping out into the sharp clarity of the mall corridor. The bag swings lightly from your wrist, the new shoes settled inside like a quiet ally. Lily nudges your elbow. @@.lily;"They look good,"@@ she says quietly, less teasing than before. @@.girl;"They really do suit you, $name,"@@ your mom echoes. You look down at the bag. It's not //really// about the shoes. It's about the small, steady decisions that make you feel more ''you''. It's not a full reinvention, but it is a step. And isn't that //exactly// what shoes are for? <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp4 to true>>\ <<set $tempshoes to $shoes>>\ You step into StepUp Footwear, and the air shifts—faux leather, fresh carpet cleaner, and sneaker spray mix with the overhead lights, giving the place a polished energy. Your mom follows, folding her arms loosely, her presence steady and patient. Lily barrels ahead, looking from display to display. She turns when she notices you staring, giving a dramatic gasp. @@.lily;"Okay, you look //way// too excited,"@@ she teases, crossing her arms. @@.lily;"What's catching your eye, sneakerhead?"@@ You head toward the sneaker sections first. Lily trails behind, and Mom keeps a careful pace just beyond you both. First, you lift the ''Vektix BreezeAir Lows''—crisp white sneakers with tiny blue butterflies along the sides. Lily crouches down, peering closely. @@.lily;"They're... actually cute,"@@ she admits, sounding reluctant. @@.lily;"Butterflies. I might get one of these for myself later."@@ @@.girl;"Very fresh,"@@ Mom comments. The next are the ''Vektix SwiftCharge Trainers''. These look like speed incarnate. The soles have a jagged design in hot pink, with red and orange laces. They're made for movement, maybe for someone who's always in a rush. @@.lily;"Woah, that's loud,"@@ Lily says, straightening up and arching an eyebrow. @@.lily;"Looks like it's for a speedster or something."@@ @@.player;"It kinda does,"@@ you reply. @@.girl;"No one's going to miss you when you roll by in those,"@@ Mom laughs. Lily wrinkles her nose. @@.lily;"It's too bright for me. You'll blind me."@@ Then, there are three flats from ''SomaSoft''. They're simple, clean, and have no branding. They're in white, black, and brown. @@.lily;"Boring old reliable?"@@ Lily asks with a roll of the eyes. @@.lily;"Classic $name."@@ @@.girl;"They do go with everything,"@@ Mom says, chuckling. @@.player;"See, listen to what Mom's saying,"@@ you say, rubbing it in Lily's face. @@.player;"Nothing wrong with basics."@@ Lily scoffs, then shrugs. @@.lily;"Fine. Sometimes easy is good."@@ Finally, tucked near the end of the display, you notice a clean, minimal pair of ''SeraForm Streetlace Lights''. They're all white with a sleek low-top profile and a matte finish. They don't scream for attention. They're not decorated or trendy, but they are sharp. @@.girl;"Those look //really// versatile,"@@ your mom says. She then gestures to a bench by the displays. @@.girl;"Why don't you try them on?"@@ Lily gives you a sharp grin. @@.lily;"Just don't trip while putting them on."@@ <<button "Try on the shoes" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily StepUp 1">><</button>>

<<if $temp6 is true>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ You linger by the crowded rack, running your fingers along the fabric until you return to the display that's pulled at you since you walked in. Threadz is, for lack of a better word, a curated chaos—every tee and hoodie feels like a statement, not just a purchase. There's a strange comfort in that energy, a freedom in deciding what kind of statement ''you'' want to make. From the display, your eyes settle on three pieces: first, the bold pink anime-style tee featuring a defiant girl with the words "GAME OVER YOU LOSE" behind her. It's loud—far from your usual look. Next, a tee covered in cartoon guinea pigs scooped up like ice cream cones—adorable and undeniably silly. And finally, the muted brown hoodie with a single orange-and-black butterfly stretched across its chest, strings artfully frayed, like it's already your favorite hoodie before you've even tried it on. You run a thumb over the hoodie's butterfly and lift it for inspection. Its softness calls to you. You glance over at your mom, who's leaning against the pin wall—tiny enamel snapshots of wrestlers, anime characters, retro game controllers, and more. She smiles and gives you a quiet thumbs-up, warm encouragement lighting her expression. Near her, Lily is scrolling on her phone, face illuminated by a TikTok. She glances up and smirks when she sees you holding the butterfly hoodie. @@.lily;"Ooh, Mom-approved?"@@ she teases, then jerks a thumb at the anime tee. @@.lily;"That one's... intense. You becoming a weeb now?"@@ You laugh, shrugging. @@.player;"Maybe? I just thought—why not?"@@ You lift up the anime tee, then the guinea pig one, trying not to crack a grin at how ridiculous the rodents look. Lily snorts. @@.lily;"You look like you're assembling your mood wardrobe. Very deep."@@ Your mom chuckles and nudges you. @@.girl;"Try them all,"@@ she suggests. @@.girl;"You'll know when one feels like //you//."@@ As you hang the butterfly hoodie over one arm and roll the guinea pig tee over the other, you glance at Lily. @@.player;"Wish me luck."@@ @@.lily;"Good luck,"@@ she says, laughing playfully. @@.lily;"I'll channel my inner fashion critic once you get out. Mom's also here for emotional support. Go get weird."@@ At that moment, the blue-haired associate from earlier appears. @@.boy;"Fitting room down the hall—second on the right,"@@ he calls with a grin. @@.boy;"Skip the flickering one unless you're into haunted vibes."@@ Gathering your three picks, you step toward the fitting rooms. Lily mock-salutes you. @@.lily;"Good luck out there, wardrobe warrior."@@ @@.girl;"Take your time, alright?"@@ your mom says gently. @@.girl;"I want to hear which one felt right."@@ You nod and reach the curtain. For a moment, your heart skips—a mix of nerves and excitement. Then you push the curtain aside, stepping into the changing room. You close the curtain with a sense of determination. Here goes nothing. <<button "Try on clothes" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Threadz 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ You pause mid-step, staring at the array of shirts: cryptic slogans, neon designs, and pastel anime prints. The store's loud buzz—the harsh fluorescents, the pounding alt-pop, the smell of cotton and deodorant—starts to feel overwhelming instead of energizing. Your mom, shuffling through hangers, glances up at you. @@.girl;"Everything okay?"@@ she asks softly, noticing you've gone quiet. Lily is to shirts away, staring skeptically at an oversized tee reading "Sad But Aesthetic." She peeks over and raises an eyebrow. @@.lily;"You good, or are you planning to spend the next hour bringing me misery by analyzing fashion?"@@ @@.player;"Nah,"@@ you say, letting out a half-laugh. @@.player;"I think I'm just... not feeling this today."@@ You glance between the chaotic colors and designs. @@.player;"Maybe I should just head out."@@ @@.girl;"If you're done, we can go,"@@ your mom says, tilting her head. @@.girl;"Might hit up somewhere quieter."@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, I kind of want to go as well,"@@ Lily says, stepping over and draping an arm around you. @@.lily;"This place gives my brain itchy vibes."@@ @@.girl;"We'll go somewhere else instead,"@@ your mom says, rubbing your shoulder gently. You nod and the three of you head toward the exit—lights buzzing overhead, the music turning into a distant thump behind you. As the door slides shut, the sensory overload fades, replaced by the mall's familiar calm. Together, you leave Threadz behind without a purchase. Maybe not picking anything is exactly the point. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $pants is 69 and $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <</if>>\ <<paperdoll>> <<button "Pink Graphic Tee">>\<<set $top to 13>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Butterfly Hoodie">>\<<set $top to 17>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Guinea Pig Shirt">>\<<set $top to 23>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Threadz 3">><</button>>

You step out of the fitting room with the chosen pieces folded over your arm—maybe one, maybe more, depending on what called to you. The blue-haired sales guy is waiting by the counter, leaning on one elbow like he's been tracking your soul-searching graphic tee journey from afar. @@.boy;"I think you'll look good in those,"@@ he says casually, ringing everything up. @@.boy;"Like a main character."@@ You laugh softly, surprised in a good way. Lily, on the other hand, rolls her eyes theatrically. @@.lily;"Right, right, main character energy. To me, you're more like the side character everybody forgets about until they need something,"@@ she teases, hands on her hips. Mom watches the interaction, amusement softening the lines of her face. After you pay, the guy slides the folded items into a plastic bag. @@.boy;"Break a leg with the new wardrobe,"@@ he says with a grin. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, grabbing the bag's handle. The three of you step away from the counter and into the wide corridor of the mall, the store's fluorescent lights giving way to the soft murmur of shoppers. Lily hums a random melody beside you. @@.lily;"That was... weird,"@@ she says. Mom smiles at her. @@.girl;"That store was interesting, but $name looks like he owned it."@@ You glance down at the bag, then up at them. @@.player;"They felt like they fit me,"@@ you admit quietly. Lily punches your arm playfully. @@.lily;"Don't get all emotional in public."@@ You don't say anything else right away. Just glance down at the bag again, the folded fabric inside. Maybe it's dumb, but there's something about it that feels like yours. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily Choice">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "ShoppingMomLily">>\ <<set $shoes to 0>>\ <<if $lilyRelo > 34>>\ <<set $d18lilyReject to false>>\ You linger outside Lily's door, one hand raised in hesitation. The soft thump of pop beats pulse through the door. It's one of those boy band tracks she claims to be "so over," but still listens to on repeat. You knock gently, careful not to startle her. There's a pause—then a loud, @@.lily;"What?"@@ from the other side, just sharp enough to be dramatic. You crack the door open. @@.player;"Hey, Lily. I was thinking of going to the mall with Mom,"@@ you say, trying to sound casual. @@.player;"Wanna come?"@@ Inside, Lily's sprawled across her bed, phone in hand, legs tangled in a blanket. She looks up, blinking at you, suspicious like you just asked her to help you do taxes. @@.lily;"What, with you?"@@ she asks, like it's some impossible idea. @@.player;"No, with your evil twin,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.player;"Yeah, with me."@@ She rolls her eyes and drops back dramatically onto her pillow, the way she always does when she //wants// to look annoyed, but isn't actually mad. @@.lily;"Ugh that sounds like so much work."@@ Then, quieter, almost like she doesn't want you to hear it: @@.lily;"But... I //guess// I could go."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You guess?"@@ Lily tosses her phone aside, grabbing a pillow and hurling it half-heartedly at you. @@.lily;"Don't make it weird, $name."@@ You laugh, dodging the pillow. @@.player;"Wouldn't dream of it."@@ She sits up straighter, trying to look unimpressed, but you catch the flicker of something—interest, maybe even excitement—before she masks it. @@.lily;"Okay, but don't, like, stand there and watch me get ready. Obviously."@@ @@.player;"Right, obviously,"@@ you say, backing up a step. @@.lily;"Out,"@@ she insists, already climbing off the bed and waving a hand at the door. You obey, but not before you catch her pulling open the closet and eyeing a cute oversized zip-up and a plaid skirt combo. She'd never actually admit it, but you just know she spent hours picking it out in order to appear effortless. The door clicks shut behind you, and a few minutes later, it swings back open. Lily steps into the hallway in a black zip hoodie over a fitted top and the skirt you spotted, paired with her favorite pair of sneakers. Her eyeliner's still sharp from earlier in the day, and even though she's //clearly// redone her lip gloss, she plays it off like she didn't. Her wolfcut is brushed out just enough to look like she didn't try as well. @@.lily;"You gonna keep staring, or are we telling Mom?"@@ she asks. @@.player;"I didn't know I needed permission to admire fashion excellence,"@@ you state, smirking. She rolls her eyes. @@.lily;"Shut up."@@ But when she bumps your shoulder as you turn down the hall together, it's playful and familiar. Together, you head down the hall to find Mom. The laundry room is warm and smells like fresh fabric softener. Sunlight filters through the small window above the counter, casting soft shadows across neat stacks of folded towels. Your mom is at her usual post, humming aimlessly while she folds. When she hears your footsteps, she glances over her shoulder with a smile already tugging at her lips. @@.girl;"Hey, sweetie. What's up?"@@ You lean against the doorframe, trying to sound casual. @@.player;"So, uh... I was thinking. About the mall. If you're still up for it, I wanna go."@@ Your mom raises an eyebrow, a little surprised—but clearly pleased. @@.girl;"Oh? Yeah, of course. That sounds nice."@@ @@.player;"Also,"@@ you add as Lily comes into view. @@.player;"Lily's coming too."@@ @@.lily;"I'm being dragged against my will,"@@ Lily says dryly, though the small smirk on her face betrays her. @@.girl;"Mmm, sure you are,"@@ your mom says, chuckling. @@.girl;"Alright then, let me grab my bag."@@ A few minutes later, the three of you meet up by the front door, shoes squeaking lightly on the tile. You hold the door open as Lily steps out, squinting at the light like it's too early for sunshine, even though it's not. The breeze is crisp, and the scent of autumn leaves hangs in the air. You follow her outside, Mom locking the door behind you. Your footsteps echo softly on the pavement as you all head down the path toward the car. For a moment, things feel easy, like they used to be. <<button "Drive to the mall" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily 1">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $d18lilyReject to true>>\ You pause in the middle of the hallway, clutching the hem of your top as you listen to the faint hum of Lily's music bleeding through her closed bedroom door. It's some overly dramatic boy band she's obsessed with lately—soaring harmonies, sugary lyrics about heartbreak, and just enough autotune to make you question humanity. You sigh. Mom offered to take you shopping today, and part of you thought—maybe—if Lily came too, things wouldn't be so awkward. Maybe you could even patch things up a little, be normal siblings like you used to be. But even as you raise your hand to knock, doubt creeps in. You haven't been close to her in a long time. It didn't happen all at once, just little moments that slipped by: skipped dinners, quiet car rides, jokes that didn't land, and conversations that never started. You used to be closer, back when things were simpler, but somewhere between middle school and now, the space between you stretched wider and wider until neither of you knew how to cross it. Since the $referto, you've barely made an effort—too wrapped up in your own chaos to check in on her. You've just been... gone. Still, you knock. Three times. Firm, but not loud. The music lowers just a bit. Then you hear her voice, sharp through the door. @@.lily;"What?"@@ You swallow. @@.player;"Hey. Um... I was thinking about going to the mall with Mom. Thought maybe you'd wanna come too?"@@ There's a pause that stretches just long enough to make you regret asking. Then her voice comes through, flat and disinterested. @@.lily;"No thanks."@@ @@.player;"Seriously?"@@ you ask, frowning. @@.player;"I thought you liked the mall."@@ @@.lily;"Not with you,"@@ she snaps back immediately. The music goes back up. You stand there for a second, staring at the door. You could try again, knock louder, push the issue—but you know better. Lily's made up her mind, and you've given her more than enough reasons not to say yes. Her rejection stings more than you want to admit, but what did you expect? After a beat, you turn and walk away, the thud of your footsteps heavier than before. You hear the music crank up even louder behind you, and for a second, you wonder if she did that for your benefit—just to make sure you knew she was done talking. Guess it's just you and Mom today. <<button "Ask your mom" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $showbra to false>>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ The fitting room door clicks shut softly behind you, and for a moment, you just stand there—top smoothed down, tag quietly removed, the new bra resting against your skin like a quiet truth you haven't decided how you feel about yet. Everything outside the fitting room looks the same, but you don't. Not in a dramatic way. Not even in a way anyone else might notice. The air feels just a little different on your skin. The fabric of your shirt drapes differently. The world feels one inch closer. Samantha's waiting, her eyebrows lifted like she's reading you like a book in just one glance. She doesn't say anything right away. Just gives you a brief nod, a quiet kind of acknowledgement. Then, with a tilt of her head, she gestures toward the front of the store. @@.samantha;"Ready?"@@ she asks. You nod once, and together, you walk down the softly lit store, past the racks of bras. Riley is back at the register, sorting some hangers, and she looks up when you approach. She smiles. @@.girl;"Find what you liked?"@@ she asks, already reaching for the scanner. You hand her the tag and the empty hanger. She scans them quickly, then pauses, tilting her head just slightly. @@.girl;"You wearing it out?"@@ she asks. You nod. She nods back. She tucks the tag, the receipt, and the now-empty hanger into a little paper bag. The bag is soft pink, glossy, with a folded tissue paper top and a sticker seal with the store's logo. You reach for your pocket, automatically, hand brushing your phone—only to be cut off by Samantha, who swoops in without ceremony. @@.samantha;"I've got it,"@@ she says, holding out her phone. You blink. @@.player;"Wait—no, Samantha, I can—"@@ She waves you off. @@.samantha;"Shush. It's a best friend gift. A milestone moment. You think I'm not gonna claim this emotional win?"@@ @@.player;"Samantha—"@@ @@.samantha;"Too late. I'm committing fraud if I have to. I'll personally destroy your financial independence if that's what it takes to buy your first bra."@@ You groan, but there's no stopping her. She taps her phone on the reader before you can argue further. Riley raises a brow, clearly amused, but says nothing as the terminal chimes and prints the receipt. Samantha takes the little pink bag and holds it like a trophy. @@.samantha;"First bra, first big moment. This is going in my mental scrapbook forever. You're lucky I didn't bring glitter."@@ You sigh, exasperated but not pushing the fight. @@.girl;"You both take care, alright?"@@ Riley says, smiling again. @@.girl;"Let me know if you ever need to try different fit or styles. There's no one-size-fits-all."@@ You offer a quiet thanks, not quite sure where to look, and Samantha gives Riley a parting salute. Then you step back out into the mall. No one around you knows what happens, but you do. And maybe that's enough. <<button "Bra acquired" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 11">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<set $topUnlock to []>>\ <<set $pantsUnlock to []>>\ <<set $outfitUnlock to []>>\ <<set $shoeUnlock to []>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock to [false]>>\ \ <<if $hairtie is 1 or $currenthairtie is 1>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[1] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 2 or $currenthairtie is 2>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[2] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 3 or $currenthairtie is 3>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[3] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 4 or $currenthairtie is 4>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[4] to true>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $hairacessoriesUnlock to []>>\ The moment the two of you step out of the bra store, the mall greets you again like it never left—cool, polished tile beneath your shoes, neon signs flickering lazily overhead, and the background hum of a hundred lives in motion. Somewhere off in the distance, a child is begging for Nibblin' Nubs, and someone else's ringtone plays a muffled K-pop hook. Samantha stretches her arms overhead like she just finished a workout, rolling her shoulders dramatically. @@.samantha;"And that was step one in your glorious character arc,"@@ she declares. @@.samantha;"Now comes the fun part."@@ You glance over. @@.player;"That wasn't the fun part?"@@ @@.samantha;"Oh no. That was the emotionally meaningful part. Very 'soft piano plays in the background while the camera zooms in on your face.' This,"@@ she gestures to the buzzing mall ahead, @@.samantha;"is where we cue the upbeat music and the spinning clothing racks montage."@@ You can't help but laugh under your breath. She turns on her heel and starts strolling forward, clearly expecting you to follow. @@.samantha;"Okay, options. We could hit up Blink + Shine if you want soft pastels and whispery cardigans that make you look like you live in a cottage."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"That's... specific."@@ She grins. @@.samantha;"I contain multitudes. Or—and this is my personal vote—we go to Threadz."@@ You already know the name. Threadz is the store with the posters of flaming stores and band logos plastered in the windows. Loud graphic tees. Chains. Jeans that come pre-ripped and distressed to a degree that feels like a cry for help. The mannequins look like they've just gotten back from yelling at their parents in 2007. Samantha glances back at you, walking backwards now with both hands in her pockets. @@.samantha;"Threadz has //vibes//, $name. It's the spiritual home of sarcasm. It's chaos, caffeine, and making a fashion statement that's halfway between 'don't talk to me' and 'I quote Vine compilations like scripture.'"@@ @@.player;"Sounds subtle."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, it's not,"@@ she beams. @@.samantha;"That's why it's perfect. Plus, they have shirts with raccoons wielding chainsaws and ones that just say ''NO'' in Comic Sans. We could find you something that says, 'I have opinions and snacks.'"@@ You shake your head, but the corner of your mouth is already twitching. Samantha spins back around and starts steering toward the central area, where the mall splits off into three directions. She pauses there, one hand on her hip. ''NovaTrend'' is sleek and filled with plants, like a fashion blog brought to life. There are soft earth tones, cropped jackets, and baggy pants. Every display seems effortless yet curated. ''ShatterBox'' has dark walls, racks of fishnets, studded belts, combat boots, and merchandise from bands you don't even recognize. Mesh sleeves and eyeliner are practically required. ''Blink + Shine'' is so sparkly it's practically vibrating. Hair clips, lip gloss, and enamel pins shaped like raccoons are on display. ''Threadz'' is wall-to-wall graphic tees, oversized hoodies, and anime designs. It smells faintly like body spray and rebellion. ''StepUp Footwear'', a staple of the Crestview Bay mall, has so many shoes it nearly makes you dizzy. ''Cuddle Creations'' has so many adorable stuffed animals that the cuteness might just overwhelm you. @@.samantha;"Alright, traveler,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"The road forks here. Choose wisely."@@ Time to decide where to go next. <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ <<set $temp3 to false>>\ <<set $temp4 to false>>\ <<set $temp5 to false>>\ <<button "Head to NovaTrend" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha NovaTrend">><</button>> <<button "Head to ShatterBox" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha ShatterBox">><</button>> <<button "Head to Blink + Shine" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Blink + Shine">><</button>> <<button "Head to Threadz" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Threadz">><</button>> <<button "Head to StepUp Footwear" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha StepUp">><</button>> <<button "Head to Cuddle Creations" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Cuddle Creations">><</button>> <<button "Head to the changing rooms" "Closet">><</button>>

The food court is buzzing with the usual chaos—laughter, trays clattering, the hum of soda machines, and the comforting scent of everything fried, grilled, or baked in bulk. You and Samantha make your way through the maze of tables and people, dodging toddlers with balloon swords and couples finding the best place to sit. Eventually, you claim a two-seater near the middle—close enough to the restaurants, but not directly beneath the speakers blaring the latest hits at max volume. The table wobbles and the chairs are hard plastic. Classic mall ambiance. Samantha flops into her seat with all the flair of someone who has suffered greatly. She glances over at you—and more specifically, at the collection of shopping bags now crowding the floor around your chair. There are more than a few. Some of them even rustle ominously. @@.samantha;"Jesus, $name,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"You're one oversized shopping bag away from starring in a cautionary tale about retail therapy."@@ You nudge one of the smaller ones with your foot, trying to play it off. @@.player;"It was mostly smaller stuff,"@@ you say, though the larger bag with tissue paper poking out kind of betrays you. @@.samantha;"Uh-huh. 'Mostly small stuff,'"@@ she parrots, unimpressed. @@.samantha;"Righttt. And I 'mostly' don't order fries with my burger. That's what people say right before their card starts crying in the checkout line."@@ You hold up your phone, laughing. @@.player;"Technically, I didn't even pull out my card."@@ She gives you a disgusted look. @@.samantha;"Digital debt is still debt, you capitalist swine."@@ You open your mouth to respond, but she's already rummaging through her pocket—elbow deep in what seems to be an abyss of gum wrappers, old receipts, a hair tie that's definitely not hers, and finally, with a triumphant noise, she pulls out a wrinkled bill. She slaps it on the table between you. @@.samantha;"There. That's all I've got. Treat yourself, queen."@@ You eye the bill. It's a ten. Maybe. You think. It looks like it's been through the laundry twice and a war once. Samantha leans back, crossing her arms behind her head like she's just solved all your problems. @@.samantha;"Go wild,"@@ she says, entirely deadpan. @@.samantha;"Buy yourself half a soda. Maybe a napkin if you're feeling decadent."@@ You snort, standing up and collecting the pitifully heroic crumpled note. @@.player;"You sure about this?"@@ @@.samantha;"Please,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"You deserve it after surviving Blink + Shine and NovaTrend. Go get yourself some food."@@ You scan the nearby stalls, where a number of choices are spread out in front of you. Pizza Hüt is a proud European chain that acts like putting an umlaut in the name makes their pizza cultured. The pizza's fine, but the crust is oddly sweet and the pepperoni looks like it was printed on. It's the kind of spot you eat at and then wonder if maybe you were just really hungry. Loud branding, flat burgers, and enough sauce to coat your soul. That's Burgur Kween. The combo deals are suspiciously cheap, and everything comes wrapped in foil with marketing slogans like "SLAY THE CRAVE." It doesn't help the fact that their burgers look like they've been sat on, though. Kansas Fried Poultry is the home of greasy chicken and coleslaw no one ever finishes. It was founded by General Thatch, whose portrait still hangs in every location—white suit, bolo tie, and a thousand-yard stare. They swear by their "Legendary Eleven-Dust Blend™"—you're pretty sure most of the taste comes down to the MSG though. No one knows what's in the gravy, but you eat it anyway. General Thatch would want you to be brave. Tacko Bong is Tex-Mex, but barely. You order it because it smells good, then immediately question your decisions mid-bite. It's fast, cheap, and tastes decent going in. But let's be honest here—you know what happens next. There's a reason why every bathroom stall near a Tacko Bong is mysteriously out of order. Koala Express is an aggressively average Chinese fast-food chain that's somehow in every mall, airport, and food court, even though no one remembers it actually opening. The food is comforting in a suspiciously consistent way. The real mystery is the mascot: a grinning koala in a silk robe, holding chopsticks. No one knows why exactly an Australian marsupial is representing orange chicken, and the brand has never explained it. You're not here for the authenticity though—you're here because it smells good and hits the same way every time. With the noble offering of Samantha's very tired money in your hand, you start to weigh your options. <<button "Pizza Hüt" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 14">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Pizza Hüt" "story">><</button>> <<button "Burgur Kween" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 14">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Burgur Kween" "story">><</button>> <<button "KFP - Kansas Fried Poultry" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 14">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "KFP - Kansas Fried Poultry" "story">><</button>> <<button "Tacko Bong" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 14">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Tacko Bong" "story">><</button>> <<button "Koala Express" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 14">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Koala Express" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18foodcourt is 0>>\ You approach the glowing red sign of Pizza Hüt—"Est. in Düsseldorf" printed beneath it in proud serif font. It's like you're entering enemy territory. The whole stall has a certain... vibe. Cold efficiency. The staff wear crisp red aprons and stare at you like they've been trained in the harshest of kitchens. The guy at the counter is tall, severe, and looks like his soul was forged in a bread oven. His name tag just reads ''GÜNTER''. @@.boy;"Willkommen to ze Hüt,"@@ he says, with zero inflection. @@.boy;"You vill be having ze pizza, ya?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"Uh... yeah. Just a slice of pepperoni—"@@ @@.boy;"Peperoniwurst."@@ He types something with aggressive precision. You look at the menu. It's //technically// in English, but every word has been rebranded into something that nears parody. Zauce, Krustenplatte, Mozarrella der Schmeltz. There's a combo meal called "Die Trilogie der Käse." It's just a three-cheese pizza. @@.player;"What drink comes with it?"@@ you ask. He doesn't answer. He just slides you a room-temperature orange soda with the label peeled off. You're not convinced it's carbonated. Or legal. Five minutes later, your slice arrives in a little cardboard tray printed with the phrase "Life ist kurz. Eat die Hüt." There's a parsley leaf on it. You carefully carry the tray back to the table. Samantha's got her legs kicked up on the chair next to her and is scrolling through her phone one-handed. She looks up when she sees the tray. @@.samantha;"That better not be from where I think it is."@@ You set it down with a soft //thud//, the slice of pepperoni—sorry, //Peperoniwurst//—glistening under the lighting. @@.player;"Pizza Hüt,"@@ you announce solemnly. @@.player;"The Düsseldorf experience."@@ Samantha lowers her phone slowly, eyeing the tray like it might explode. @@.samantha;"$name. Be honest. Did they threaten you into buying that?"@@ You peel the soda can's mystery label back a little more and shrug. @@.player;"It felt like a negotiation with a foreign power. I didn't want to offend Günter."@@ She sits up straighter. @@.samantha;"Günter?"@@ You nod, dead serious. @@.player;"Giant. Apron starched to hell. I think he was a general in the Great Carb War."@@ You pick up your slice and inspect the lone parsley leaf clinging to the crust. @@.player;"They gave me this for presentation. I'm supposed to contemplate life while I chew, I think."@@ @@.samantha;"Is that parsley?"@@ Samantha asks, leaning over and peering at your tray. @@.samantha;"On a mall pizza slice?"@@ You nod gravely. @@.player;"Life ist kurz. Eat die Hüt."@@ That breaks her. She laughs loudly, smacking the table once with her palm. @@.samantha;"You did not just say that."@@ You take a bite. The crust crunches like it's been reinforced with German engineering. @@.player;"Samantha, the crust is... structured,"@@ you say, chewing thoughtfully. @@.player;"The flavor profile is fear and obligation."@@ Samantha fans herself with a napkin. @@.samantha;"You brave, tragic soul. Luke would've gone to Koala Express like a sane person."@@ @@.player;"Luke's not here,"@@ you say, taking a sip of the soda. It takes like sadness and artificial orange. Samantha squints at the can. @@.samantha;"Why is it warm?"@@ @@.player;"It's like a rite of passage,"@@ you say, sighing. @@.player;"You wouldn't get it."@@ She exhales slowly and shakes her head. @@.samantha;"$name. One day you'll look back on this moment and realize it was a mistake to get Pizza Hüt."@@ You grin at her through another bite. @@.player;"They didn't smile once. I respect that."@@ @@.samantha;"You're just saying that because Günter still has your soul."@@ And honestly? Maybe he does. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 1>>\ The scent of flame-grilled something smacks you the moment you pass under the neon crown-shaped sign. Burgur Kween isn't quiet. The whole place radiates confidence, hot grease, and glittery chaos. Purple lights frame the menu board. The soda machine's blasting music. And the staff? They are living in the moment. Behind the counter stands a tall server with long acrylic nails, gold hoop earrings, and a perfectly tied apron that looks more like a fashion statement than a uniform. Their name tag reads "Miss Patty", in Sharpie, with a tiny lipstick kiss drawn next to it. @@.girl;"Well hellooo, look who just stepped into the best restaurant in town, honey,"@@ they say, leaning dramatically on the counter. @@.girl;"What's your vibe today? Feeling crunchy? Crispy? Or just //extra//?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"Um... just a cheeseburger?"@@ Miss Patty places one hand on their hip and gasps. @@.girl;"//Just// a cheeseburger? Baby, no. We don't do 'just' here. We do bold, juicy, life-changing."@@ Someone in the back yells, @@.boy;"Drop a royal patty and crown it, darling!"@@ Patty turns back to you. @@.girl;"That's for you, sweetness."@@ You look up at the menu, which is a fever dream of specials with names like "The Glam Stack," "Double Drama," and "The Untucked Combo." You order a single burger and fries, and Patty nods like you've chosen your house for the season. @@.girl;"Ooh, a classic. Simple. Confident. I respect it. You don't need the extra sauce—you //are// the flavor."@@ They slide your receipt across the counter with a wink. @@.girl;"Grab a straw with attitude, not one of those flimsy basic ones."@@ You return to the table with a tray that looks like it just walked off a stage. Even the burger is wrapped in paper that says "SLAY ALL DAY" in all caps with glitter-print ink. Samantha lowers her phone, blinks once, and stares at the tray. @@.samantha;"Did you just get back from a drag show or a fast food joint?"@@ You sit down slowly. @@.player;"Yes."@@ @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ Samantha says, blinking. @@.samantha;"Explain."@@ You set down the tray with reverence. @@.player;"First of all, their soda machine has better music taste than half the school."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, I can tell,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"I'm getting Beyoncé or Barbra Streisand from that thing. With a side of cardiac arrest, just to be safe."@@ You peel the paper back from your burger, revealing a toasted bun and a suspiciously artful swirl of sauce. @@.player;"The person who took my order was named Miss Patty. She told me I was the flavor."@@ @@.samantha;"...Of the burger?"@@ @@.player;"No. Of life."@@ She leans back in her chair. @@.samantha;"What the hell //is// this mall, dude?"@@ she asks, mostly to herself. You take a bite and immediately taste a chaotic but harmonious symphony of grease and glamor. @@.player;"Honestly? She wasn't wrong."@@ Samantha grabs one of your fries without asking and pops it into her mouth. She chews once, twice, then nods. @@.samantha;"Okay, I have to admit that it's criminally good."@@ You reach into the bag and retrieve a paper crown, holding it up like an offering. @@.player;"They gave me this."@@ She looks at it. Then at you. @@.samantha;"$name. If you put that on your head, I //will// call you the Burgur Prince for the rest of the day."@@ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You raise your eyebrows, hovering the crown an inch above your hair. @@.player;"What if I want to be the Burgur Princess?"@@ Samantha places a hand over her heart. @@.samantha;"Then I'll know that I've truly lost you to the glitter."@@ <<else>>\ You raise your eyebrows, hovering the crown an inch above your hair. @@.player;"What if I wear this, but only ironically?"@@ Samantha sighs. @@.samantha;"It doesn't work like that, dude."@@ <</if>>\ You grin and set the crown aside—for now. Instead, you grab your cup and raise it. @@.player;"To Miss Patty."@@ Samantha smiles. @@.samantha;"To the Kween."@@ <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 2>>\ The smell hits you before the sign does—grease, salt, black pepper, and a kind of smoky defiance that makes it clear you didn't come here to be healthy. Kansas Fried Poultry squats in the corner of the food court like it owns the mall. The logo's just a silhouette of the state of Kansas wearing a cowboy hat, and the man behind the myth—General Thatch—is everywhere. His framed portrait hangs behind the counter, squinting like he's seen combat and invented cornbread in the same week. His statue holds a chicken drumstick like it's the Declaration of Independence. There's even a tattered American flag above the counter. The counter girl's leanin' on the register like it owes her money. Her faded name tag just says Mary-Beth and her apron's got cornbread batter scars. @@.girl;"Well, hey there, sugar,"@@ she drawls, voice slow as sweet tea left out in August. @@.girl;"You look like somebody with a deep hunger and questionable judgment. Lemme fix that fer ya."@@ You open your mouth to ask a question, but she's already shaking her head. @@.girl;"Nuh uh. We don't do menus. We do chicken. Hot, proud, and real enough to bring a tear to your meemaw's eye."@@ She turns and bellows into the back without looking. @@.girl;"Drop two thighs in the fire! And throw a mercy biscuit in there too, bless their heart!"@@ She slaps a bucket on the counter with a thud that feels spiritual. @@.girl;"Y'all enjoy now,"@@ Mary-Beth says, wiping her hands on a rag that might've fought in the war. @@.girl;"And if it don't light a fire in yer chest, we'll bury ya with honor."@@ You carry it back to the table like it's holy. Samantha glances up from her phone, sniffing dramatically. @@.samantha;"Oh my God. Did you just get back from a soul food joint?"@@ You set the bucket down and ease into the seat. @@.player;"She called me sugar. Then insulted my life choices. Then fed me."@@ @@.samantha;"What did you even order?"@@ Samantha asks, eyes narrowing. @@.player;"There is no order,"@@ you say solemnly, lifting the lid. A wave of steam and judgment rolls out. @@.player;"You just receive."@@ You pick up a thigh and bite into it. The skin shatters audibly, and a spice strong enough to make you hallucinate hits you square in the chest. @@.player;"This tastes like patriotism and generational trauma."@@ @@.samantha;"General Thatch would be proud,"@@ Samantha says, nodding. @@.samantha;"Look at you, living the full poultry experience."@@ You raise your biscuit, warm, crumbly, and held together by butter and prayer. @@.player;"For the record, I did not ask for this biscuit. It was given to me out of pity."@@ @@.samantha;"Honestly? I've got to respect that. That's southern hospitality. Feed first, ask questions never."@@ You nod solemnly. @@.player;"I think I have a meemaw now."@@ @@.samantha;"Bless your heart,"@@ Samantha says, biting back a grin. @@.samantha;"And your arteries."@@ <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 3>>\ The closer you get to Tacko Bong, the more it smells like a college dorm microwave and the inside of a tortilla chip bag. Not bad, necessarily—just chaotic. There's a faded mural on the wall of a cactus wearing sunglasses and a beanie, holding a burrito like it's the Holy Grail. A little sign on the register reads: "Now Hiring. No Snitches." The guy behind the counter has half-lidded eyes and a name tag that says "Chaz", drawn in Sharpie. He's got a bandana tied around his head and a string of hot sauce pockets clipped to his belt like ammo. He stares at you for a long second after you approach. Almost as if he's buffering. @@.boy;"...Yo,"@@ he says finally. @@.boy;"You, uh... hungry?"@@ You nod. He nods too. @@.boy;"That's sick. Me too, man."@@ There's no real menu—just a few laminated photos taped crookedly to the sneeze guard. Cruncho Loco Supreme, Nacho Nacho Situation, and the Mystery Quesadilla (No Refunds). @@.boy;"I can, like... throw some stuff in a tortilla?"@@ Chaz offers. @@.boy;"We got beans. Probably."@@ A second guy appears from the back. You didn't hear him come out. His name tag says "Spoon", and he's holding a ladle full of neon-yellow cheese like it's a sacred artifact. @@.boy;"Dude, you want the drip?"@@ he asks. @@.boy;"We got the drip."@@ You pause. @@.player;"What exactly is the drip?"@@ He gestures at the ladle. @@.boy;"This. This is the drip."@@ Chaz nods solemnly behind him, @@.boy;"It's, like, spiritual."@@ You order something that sounds vaguely like a taco, hand over the cash, and watch as they begin to construct your meal with an intense focus. There's a lot of unlabelled containers. You choose not to ask. Minutes later, you're handed a loosely wrapped bundle of tortilla, heat, and vibes. It drips. You're not sure what. But it drips. You return to the table holding your food carefully. The wrapper is already translucent from whatever's inside it—steam curling upward like it's trying to escape. It smells like melted cheese and danger. Samantha eyes the bundle warily as you set it down. @@.samantha;"Jesus. That thing looks like it's been through a spiritual journey."@@ @@.player;"The guy who made it had a name tag that just said 'Spoon,'"@@ you say, sitting down carefully. @@.player;"He didn't blink once."@@ @@.samantha;"Spoon?"@@ Samantha asks, tilting her head. You nod solemnly. @@.player;"He asked if I wanted 'the drip.' And when I asked what that meant, he held up a ladle of neon cheese."@@ She stares. @@.samantha;"...And you still said yes?"@@ @@.player;"Well, I was already too deep,"@@ you respond, shrugging. @@.player;"Chaz behind the counter had a hot sauce belt. I couldn't walk away after that."@@ Samantha leans back in her chair. @@.samantha;"We're losing you,"@@ she says mournfully. You unwrap the thing—some mutant combo of taco and burrito, sagging at the seams and oozing something viscous. There's a weird crunch in the middle, which you choose not to investigate. @@.player;"I don't even know what I ordered,"@@ you admit. @@.samantha;"Yeah, it shows."@@ You take a bite. It's hot, creamy, spicy, and possibly illegal in three states. The cheese drips onto your tray. You glance up at her mid-chew. @@.player;"It's actually pretty good."@@ @@.samantha;"Please let my friend's intestines survive the next few days,"@@ Samantha says, clasping her hands and pretending to pray. You don't respond. You're too busy chasing whatever that last flavor was—you can't tell if it was lime or battery acid. All you know is that it burns, and you're strangely okay with that. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 4>>\ You spot the waving golden cat before anything else—perched proudly on the counter of Koala Express, its paw moving in slow, hypnotic arcs like it knows something you don't. The menu board glows red and gold, slick with laminated sheen, listing a staggering number of combos and sides. Every single one comes with two entrées and a side. The trays are already stacked, wide enough to double as life rafts. The server behind the counter doesn't look up as she greets you. @@.girl;"Hi, welcome to Koala Express. Do you want a combo or box today?"@@ You glance down at the steam table. There's orange chicken glistening like a sunset, beef and broccoli soaking in sauce, and fried rice piled so high it's got elevation. Everything smells like soy sauce and sugar. @@.player;"A combo?"@@ you offer. @@.girl;"Good choice. Two entrées, one side. Orange chicken?"@@ She's already spooning it into your tray before you nod. You pick a second dish. It doesn't really matter what you choose, they all look like they've been prepared by someone who knows what your soul needs and doesn't believe in small portions. The food is heaped on like gravity's on break. By the time she finishes adding a scoop of chow mein, your tray weighs more than your dignity. She throws in a crushed fortune cookie and an extra packet of soy sauce for "flavor insurance." Then comes the plastic lid, taped shut with serious intent. It barely fits. You nod your thanks, hand sinking under the weight as you turn to head back. You return to the table like a weary traveler dragging home his spoils, the Koala Express tray balanced in your hands like a brick of hot, edible treasure. The lid is puffed up like it's trying to escape the contents, held together by one brave piece of tape and sheer determination. Samantha raises an eyebrow as you set it down with a heavy //thud//. The table actually rattles. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she says, eyes widening. @@.samantha;"Did they just give you the entire restaurant?"@@ You take a seat. @@.player;"It's... a combo meal."@@ She leans forward, inspecting the tray like it's some kind of anomaly. @@.samantha;"That's not a combo. That's a geological formation. Is that rice? Or did they just scoop up a beach and hope for the best?"@@ You touch the tape, and the lid immediately opens with a sad //pop//. Steam floods the air instantly, carrying the scent of fried goodness and sweet glaze. Orange chicken glistens in one corner like molten sugar lava, the chow mein is tangled into a knot, and the beef is oozing. @@.player;"I'm not sure if this is food or a challenge,"@@ you murmur, picking up a fork that already feels too flimsy for the job. Samantha makes a face. @@.samantha;"They give you a shovel, or...?"@@ You reach for the fortune cookie. The cookie cracks and you fish out the fortune. You read it aloud: ''You are full of potential. And also rice.'' You nod, like it's a prophecy. Time to eat. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 15">><</button>>

Samantha returns with her tray and drops it onto the table with zero grace. Whatever she got smells aggressively fried and spicy. She slumps into her seat across from you, shoving her sleeves up like she's preparing for combat. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ she says, cracking open a pair of wooden chopsticks with an unnecessarily dramatic snap. @@.samantha;"Let's get this over with before one of us passes out from too much salt exposure."@@ You dig into your own food, chewing thoughtfully. It's not bad. The food court stuff rarely is, even if it probably comes with microplastics. Samantha jabs a piece of something battered and deep-fried, lifting it suspiciously. @@.samantha;"You ever think about how this stuff probably started frozen in a truck somewhere in, like, Nevada? And now it's in California, coated in mystery sauce and about to become part of my soul."@@ @@.player;"It's called the circle of life,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.samantha;"More like the circle of processed food and poor decisions,"@@ she responds, snorting. @@.samantha;"Simba would weep."@@ You both eat in comfortable silence for a moment, the muffled sounds of mall ambiance washing over your table—people chatting, trays sliding, the faint warble of whatever Billboard Top 100 song is being piped through the speakers. You sneak a glance at Samantha. She's hunched a little over her tray, chewing intently, her usual sarcastic air still intact but softened by the fact that she's clearly starving. She catches you staring and pauses, mid-bite. @@.samantha;"What?"@@ she asks, mouth half full. @@.samantha;"Do I have sauce on my face or something?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you say, shaking your head. @@.player;"It's just that you kinda eat like a raccoon."@@ @@.samantha;"Thank you,"@@ she beams. @@.samantha;"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. I try to bring a certain chaos to the table."@@ A beat passes, and her expression shifts just slightly. There's something behind the humor now—a certain sense of real warmth. @@.samantha;"You did good today, by the way,"@@ she says, quieter now. @@.samantha;"With all the shopping and trying stuff on and not bolting for the exits. I know this kind of thing's not always easy."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ She shrugs like it's no big deal, but her eyes stay on you for a few seconds longer than usual before she turns back to her tray. @@.samantha;"Don't get used to me being nice, though,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"I've got a reputation to maintain."@@ You grin and take another bite, heart a little lighter. <<button "Be genuine" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 16">>\<<set $d18foodcourtsamantha to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourtsamantha" "Be genuine" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Be teasing" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 16">>\<<set $d18foodcourtsamantha to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourtsamantha" "Be teasing" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Be flirty" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 16">>\<<set $d18foodcourtsamantha to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourtsamantha" "Be flirty" "rel">><</button>>

<<if $d18foodcourtsamantha is 0>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Samantha's halfway through chewing something when you glance over at her, and for once, you don't have a joke lined up or a comeback waiting to pounce. You just look at her—really look. At the way she slouches in her chair like she owns the whole food court, one sneaker kicked out under the table. The way her beanie's tilted slightly back, letting a few strands of hair fall messily against her forehead. The way she picks through her french fries like she's searching for the ones with the most structural integrity. You lean forward a little, nudging your tray aside. @@.player;"Hey."@@ She glances up, mid-bite. @@.samantha;"Hmm?"@@ @@.player;"I just... wanted to say thanks."@@ Her chewing slows. @@.player;"For coming today, I mean,"@@ you add, suddenly aware of how warm your ears feel. @@.player;"I know malls aren't exactly your thing, and I kind of dragged you around forever. But you stuck around, and that means a lot."@@ She blinks, surprised—like you just started speaking fluent Klingon. @@.samantha;"Oh,"@@ she says, and it's the softest sound you've heard from her all day. @@.samantha;"That's, uh..."@@ You half-expect her to ruin the moment with a sarcastic quip, but she doesn't. Instead, she sets down her food, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then her lips curl into a soft smile. @@.samantha;"I mean... yeah. Of course I did."@@ She shrugs like it's no big deal. @@.samantha;"You're my best friend. That's kind of what we do. Be there. Even when your taste in stores is questionable at best."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"Hey, some of the stuff I bought is cool."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm reserving judgment until I see you wear it outside of the mall,"@@ she says. But her voice is lighter now, and there's something warm in her eyes. There's a brief pause between you, filled only by the ambiance of the food court. Then Samantha leans back in her seat, picks up a fry, and points it at you like a wand. @@.samantha;"Alright, that's enough fluff for one day. Any more of this and I'll spontaneously combust into a ball of feelings."@@ You roll your eyes, but you're smiling. <<elseif $d18foodcourtsamantha is 1>>\ Samantha's halfway through stuffing a fry in her mouth when you cock your head and squint at her like you've just noticed something heinous. @@.samantha;"What?"@@ she says, instantly suspicious, her mouth half-full. @@.samantha;"Why are you looking at me like that? Don't do that. That's your 'I'm about to say something dumb' face."@@ You lean your chin on your hand, eyes twinkling. @@.player;"Just wondering how it feels to have sauce all over your face in public."@@ She freezes. @@.samantha;"What?! Where—"@@ She grabs a napkin with enough force to crumple it and starts scrubbing at her cheek like her life depends on it. You keep your expression perfectly innocent. She wipes harder. @@.samantha;"Which side is it on?"@@ @@.player;"Both."@@ She stops. Squints at you. Then narrows her eyes. @@.samantha;"There's nothing on my face, is there."@@ @@.player;"Nope,"@@ you say, smiling sweetly. @@.player;"Not a thing."@@ Samantha glares. @@.samantha;"I'm going to end you."@@ @@.player;"You'll have to catch me first."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, I will,"@@ she says, dramatically wagging a fry in your direction like it's a knife. @@.samantha;"When you least expect it, I'll strike in the dead of night, all because you decided to pull a fake sauce emergency."@@ @@.player;"I accept my fate,"@@ you reply solemnly. @@.player;"But I regret nothing."@@ @@.samantha;"You should regret everything,"@@ she mutters, then flicks the fry at you. It lazily bounces off your shoulder and lands with a sad plop on your tray. You both crack up. <<elseif $d18foodcourtsamantha is 2>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You lean back just slightly, tilting your head like you're examining something crucial. Samantha pauses, immediately suspicious. @@.samantha;"What now?"@@ she asks, voice halfway between annoyed and wary. You give her a smile. @@.player;"You've got something on your cheek."@@ @@.samantha;"Where?"@@ she asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"There,"@@ you say, gesturing vaguely. @@.player;"Little bit of sauce."@@ She starts to lift her hand to wipe it off, but you're already leaning in. @@.player;"Here, let me get it,"@@ you say. There's a second—just one—where the air shifts. You don't normally volunteer to touch her face. That's never been your thing. Samantha's not the delicate type, not someone who gets doted on. You both know that. So when you gently reach out and brush your thumb across her cheek—right where there is absolutely no sauce—her whole body goes still. The touch is soft and intentional. Your thumb lingers longer than it needs to, a warm press of contact that says more than you could ever phrase out loud. She blinks, watching you carefully, and for a split moment, her usual sarcasm falters. @@.samantha;"...You liar,"@@ she says, but she's not mad. Not even annoyed. Just stunned and a little breathless. @@.samantha;"There was no sauce, was there?"@@ You give a tiny shrug. @@.player;"Guess you'll never know."@@ She stares at you, blinking once. Then slowly, a smile curls across her face—small, a little crooked, but real. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, $name,"@@ she murmurs, shaking her head like she can't believe you just did that. @@.samantha;"I think I hate you."@@ @@.player;"You're welcome,"@@ you say, your voice a little softer now. You scoot your chair forward and let the moment settle between you. She doesn't move away. You both return to your food, but something's changed. It's quiet, not uncomfortable—just charged in a way that didn't exist five minutes ago. A new thread has been pulled between you. It's invisible, sure, but unmistakable. Samantha pokes at her food, side-eyeing you without really looking. @@.samantha;"Next time you lie, at least commit to it. You missed the other cheek."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Oh, I'll get it next time."@@ She rolls her eyes, but there's a flush on her ears that she absolutely does not address. And for once, she doesn't say anything sarcastic to follow it up. You both keep eating—but your knees touch under the table now, and neither of you moves. <</if>>\ <<button "Finish eating" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 17">><</button>>

You lean back in your seat, tray mostly empty, that pleasant kind of full settling into your stomach. It's the quiet lull after a good meal—the kind where you're ready to melt into your chair and not move for a solid week. Samantha wipes her hands on a napkin, crumples it into a little ball, and arcs it toward a nearby trash bin. It bounces off the rim and flutters to the floor. @@.samantha;"Tragic,"@@ she says flatly. You smirk. @@.player;"That was pathetic."@@ @@.samantha;"Excuse you,"@@ she replies, eyes narrowing. @@.samantha;"That was graceful and daring. It's just that the trash can wasn't ready for my level of artistry."@@ You stretch your arms over your head, feeling the weight of the day beginning to settle into your shoulders. @@.player;"We finally done here?"@@ @@.samantha;"What do you mean 'done'?"@@ she asks, arching a brow. @@.samantha;"We're not even at the final boss."@@ @@.player;"...What?"@@ She slaps her hands on the table. @@.samantha;"Dessert, $name."@@ You blink. @@.player;"We just ate."@@ @@.samantha;"And now we eat again,"@@ she says solemnly, like it's a sacred rite. @@.samantha;"Ice cream, dude. The universe demands balance."@@ You squint at her. @@.player;"Since when were you the ice cream fan?"@@ @@.samantha;"Since always,"@@ she says, standing up. @@.samantha;"Look, I survived multiple hours of NovaTrend, three near-death dressing room experiences, and the emotional whiplash of watching you become one with femininity. I //need// this."@@ You shake your head, laughing under your breath. @@.player;"You are ''so'' dramatic."@@ @@.samantha;"And you're lucky I am,"@@ she shoot back, grabbing her tray to toss it. @@.samantha;"Otherwise you'd never leave your cave and experience joy."@@ With a helpless shrug, you decide to follow her. @@.player;"Fine, fine. Ice cream it is."@@ @@.samantha;"That's the spirit,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Come, brave hero. Let us indulge in sugar and dairy."@@ You walk side by side, weaving through the afternoon crowd. The food court buzzes behind you as you head toward the local ice cream parlor. The smell of waffle cones and vanilla hits first—sweet and warm, with that distinct promise of a sugar rush. Samantha slows as you approach the counter, taking in the display case. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ she mutters to herself. @@.samantha;"Do I want something classic? Or chaotic? Do I dare mix the cookie dough with the cotton candy again?"@@ @@.player;"Didn't that give you a stomachache last time?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ she says gravely. @@.samantha;"And I learned nothing."@@ You step forward as the server behind the counter glances up with a smile, ready to take your order. <<if $d3icecream is 0>>\ You glance over the rows of colorful options, each more swirled and sprinkled and unique than the last... and go for vanilla. Classic. Safe. Uncontroversial. The moment the scoop hits the cone, Samantha lets out a slow, theatrical exhale. @@.samantha;"Vanilla?"@@ she says, eyebrows climbing. @@.samantha;"Really, $name? In a place that sells 'Cereal Killer Crunch' and 'Unicorn Tears Surprise,' you picked //vanilla//?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It's good."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, so is water,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"And that has no personality."@@ @@.player;"I happen to like water,"@@ you reply, grinning. @@.samantha;"Yeah, well, I happen to like having a best friend who doesn't like water and vanilla ice cream, but we can't all win."@@ <<elseif $d3icecream is 1>>\ You don't hesitate. One scoop of rich chocolate, no frills. Reliable and an easy win. Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Chocolate, huh?"@@ she says, giving a small nod. @.samantha;"Can't go wrong with chocolate."@@ @@.player;"Did you just... approve of my choice?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"No, of course not,"@@ she responds, clearly holding back a smirk. @@.samantha;"Just very... childish."@@ You look at her flatly. @@.player;"It's chocolate. Everyone likes it."@@ @@.samantha;"And that's the problem,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"It's too safe."@@ @@.player;"I'm the one with the ice cream, you're the one with opinions,"@@ you respond. @@.samantha;"Hey, I never said it was a bad pick,"@@ Samantha says. <<elseif $d3icecream is 2>>\ You lean forward and point decisively. @@.player;"Cookies and cream, please."@@ The worker nods and scoops you a generous swirl, speckled with crumbled cookie bits. Just the right amount of crunch and cream. Samantha watches it and hums approvingly. @@.samantha;"Ah, yes. The indecisive person's favorite. 'I want cookies, but also... milk? but cold. But frozen. But not //too// adult.'"@@ You blink. @@.player;"I don't think of all that. It's just good."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly, it's too good,"@@ Samantha says, like she's making some great point. @@.samantha;"Everyone likes it. That's what makes me suspicious."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Are you seriously gatekeeping ice cream right now?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ she says solemnly. @@.samantha;"I'm morally obligated."@@ <<elseif $d3icecream is 3>>\ You point to the strawberry. It's pale pink with little bits of fruit tucked inside. Sure enough, Samantha glances over and raises both brows. @@.samantha;"Strawberry?"@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you say, taking a bite. @@.player;"It's good."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, I'm not judging,"@@ she says, sliding her hands into her pockets. @@.samantha;"It's just kinda sweet. Unexpected."@@ @@.player;"Am I not sweet?"@@ you ask. She laughs under her breath. @@.samantha;"Let's not get into that."@@ <</if>>\ Samantha stares down the row of ice cream tubs with her arms crossed. Her weight is shifted to one hip and her lips are pursed. @@.samantha;"No,"@@ she mutters at mint chip. @@.samantha;"Too toothpaste. No,"@@ again at rainbow sherbet. @@.samantha;"Not eating something that looks like it was sneezed out by a unicorn."@@ @@.player;"Want some privacy?"@@ you ask, deadpan. She shoots you a glare, then points at a tub toward the end. @@.samantha;"That one, please. Triple Fudge Frenzy. It speaks to me."@@ The worker gives her a nod and starts scooping. You both move toward the checkout counter. When you make your way there, Samantha turns and stares wordlessly at the pile of shopping bags looped around your arm and cradled against your hip. Her gaze travels from the patterned handles to the glossy branded logos. Her eyes narrows. Her expression goes blank. You don't even need to say it. @@.player;"I—"@@ you start. She cuts you off with a heavy sigh, like she's just aged five years. @@.samantha;"$name. My sweet, dumb shopping casualty. Do you have //any// money left?"@@ @@.player;"I have emotional gratitude,"@@ you say, shrugging sheepishly. @@.samantha;"That won't pay for dairy, buddy."@@ Still grumbling, she pulls her phone out and taps it against the reader before you can argue. A chime sounds, confirming the payment. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur, already guilty. She hands you your cone like she's bestowing you with a cursed heirloom. @@.samantha;"You owe me."@@ @@.player;"Fair,"@@ you reply, nodding solemnly. @@.samantha;"No, like—you seriously //owe// me,"@@ she continues, pointing a dramatic finger at your face. @@.samantha;"Next time we pass a store that sells squishmallows, you're buying me the dumbest, biggest, ugliest one they have. I want it to ruin my bed aesthetic."@@ @@.player;"You know what?"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"Deal."@@ With cones in hand, the two of you shuffle over to a nearby bench that's somehow both sticky and cold at the same time. You manage to arrange your shopping bags on the floor then settle in beside her. Somehow, Samantha's already halfway into her cone. @@.samantha;"So,"@@ she says, licking fudge off her thumb. @@.samantha;"Now that you've bankrupted yourself and expanded your wardrobe... what do we talk about?"@@ <<button "Say that you might think she likes you if she keeps spoiling you" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 18">>\<<set $d18samflirt to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samflirt" "Say that you might think she likes you if she keeps spoiling you" "story">><</button>> <<button "Thank her for coming with you" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 18">>\<<set $d18samflirt to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samflirt" "Thank her for coming with you" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18samflirt is true>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a lazy lick of your ice cream—cold and sweet on your tongue—then glance at Samantha from across the table. She's almost done with her cone now, one leg kicked out under the seat and sleeves pushed up. She catches you looking and raises a brow. You wait a beat, savoring the moment, and then say it casually, @@.player;"You know, if you keep spoiling me like this... I might start thinking you've got a crush on me."@@ Her reaction is immediate. She chokes slightly on her bite of ice cream, making a face like it was the cone's fault and not the sentence you just dropped on her. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, $name,"@@ she mutters, squinting at you like she's trying to shoot a laser through your soul with sarcasm alone. @@.samantha;"You're insufferable."@@ But there's color rising to her cheeks. Faint, sure, but there. You don't press—it's already enough to know you hit something. @@.samantha;"I spoil you?"@@ she says, trying to regain control. @@.samantha;"Dude, you bought out half the mall. I paid for your bra, food, and ice cream out of kindness because you were broke."@@ You grin, tilting your head. @@.player;"So you're saying you care.'@@ @@.samantha;"I'm saying I saw your remaining balance."@@ She narrows her eyes, still playing defense—but her voice does soften just a little. @@.samantha;"And, maybe, that it's kind of nice seeing you actually enjoy something."@@ That last bit hangs in the air for a moment longer than necessary. Her tone doesn't change much, but there's something underneath it. She won't say it directly—she never does—but her foot brushes yours under the table, just barely. Not enough for her to admit it, but enough that it happened. You go back to your cone, pretending you didn't notice. She does the same. @@.samantha;"I mean, let's not get ahead of ourselves,"@@ she adds quickly. @@.samantha;"I'm still emotionally processing the fact that you willingly tried on a skirt. I need, like, a week to recalibrate."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"You'll survive."@@ @@.samantha;"I better,"@@ she mutters, then glances at you sidelong. @@.samantha;"But for the record... if I //did// have a crush on you, which I don't, you'd never see it coming. I'd be ''way'' cooler about it."@@ You give her a look. @@.player;"This is you being cool?"@@ She licks her cone with theatrical indifference. @@.samantha;"I am the pinnacle of cool."@@ And beneath all of her sarcasm and snark, you can feel it. Something in the way she smiles, in the way she keeps looking at you even after she pretends to look away. Something shifting. Something real. <<else>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance over at Samantha and start speaking before you can overthink it. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you begin, voice soft. @@.player;"Thanks for coming with me today. I probably would've chickened out if I'd come alone."@@ Samantha freezes mid-bite of her ice cream and lowers it slowly, brows raised like she wasn't expecting anything even remotely sincere from you. @@.samantha;"I'm glad I came too,"@@ she says, tone softening into something real. @@.samantha;"it was kinda fun watching you panic over hair ties and pastel hoodies."@@ You groan. @@.player;"That wasn't panic, Samantha. It was more like... fashion-driven dread."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, my bad,"@@ she deadpans. @@.samantha;"I forgot you're a tortured artist."@@ But then she taps your shoes with hers under the table. It's a small gesture, but familiar. @@.samantha;"Look—all jokes aside? I'd come with you again. Anytime. Even if I have to drag your indecisive ass through a million more stores."@@ You glance at her, heart doing something dumb in your chest. Not in a romantic way—you don't see her like that—just in that way it does when you know you've got someone who shows up. Who gets you. Who's stayed by your side for years. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you say. She nods, then raises her cone like a toast. @@.samantha;"To certified best friend duty. I'm on call 24/7. Terms and conditions apply."@@ You snort, clinking your cone against hers with an exaggerated @@.player;"cheers."@@ She leans back with a sigh, wiping a dab of ice cream from her wrist with a napkin. @@.samantha;"Today was a good day, $name."@@ @@.player;"Very much so,"@@ you respond. She grins, and the conversation drifts back to lighter things. But the moment stays there between you, and you know you'll come back to it later. <</if>>\ <<button "Time to go back home" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 19">><</button>>

The mall doors slide open with a hiss, and you step out into a different world than the one you arrived in. The sky's gone black, the streetlights are on, and the breeze that hits you is cooler now. The parking lot's half-empty, the buzz of cars replaced by the sounds of nature. Samantha stops just outside the entrance, blinking like she's only just realized what time it is. @@.samantha;"Dude,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"It's night. Like, actual night. When the hell did that happen?"@@ You glance at the sky. @@.player;"Uh... somewhere between the third and fourth store we visited?"@@ She pulls out her phone, checks the time, and groans. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, $name. We were in there for //hours//. No wonder my legs feel like I ran a marathon."@@ She opens a taxi app out of instinct, her thumb already tapping through the motions before her brain can catch up. The app loads with a cheerful little chime, casting a yellow glow across her face as she squints at the screen. Her expression is hopeful for maybe half a second. Then the price appears. Her eyebrows shoot up. @@.samantha;"Forty bucks? For a mile?"@@ You glance over just in time to see her jaw fall slack, like the phone just personally insulted her. @@.samantha;"Does the driver hand-feed you grapes and whisper affirmations the whole ride, or...?"@@ She shows you the screen. You don't have to look at anything other than the big number to feel your wallet clench in sympathy. @@.player;"That better come with a solid gold seatbelt."@@ @@.samantha;"Right?"@@ Samantha swipes the app away with a dramatic flourish and a disgusted scoff. @@.samantha;"Nope. Absolutely not. I am ''not'' paying forty fucking dollars to be chauffeured by some guy who smells like body odor and cigarettes."@@ You snort, adjusting the shopping bags in your arms. They're heavier now—or maybe your arms are just finally feeling it. Samantha pockets her phone and stretches. @@.samantha;"Guess I'm walking."@@ Then she turns to see you. More specifically, she turns to see the mountain of pastel and branded bags you're currently carrying, stacked on your arms. One bag has glitter on it. Another is suspiciously crinkly. You look like a stylish pack mule. Samantha stares. Then blinks. Then slowly, //slowly//, exhales. @@.samantha;"Oh, come on."@@ @@.player;"Don't worry,"@@ you start, trying to rearrange the weight. @@.player;"I can carry them."@@ @@.samantha;"You'll drop one,"@@ she says flatly. @@.samantha;"Probably into a storm drain. Then I'll have to leap in after it and get eaten by a killer clown."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"That's kind of on-brand for you."@@ She mutters something under her breath, but steps forward and plucks two of the heavier bags out of your arms anyway. @@.samantha;"I swear,"@@ she says, @@.samantha;"this friendship is gonna be the end of me."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ She rolls her eyes and jerks her chin toward the sidewalk. @@.samantha;"Let's go before I change my mind and throw your new clothes into traffic."@@ You fall into step beside her, the two of you walking. The bags swing with each step and your shadows stretch out long in front of you. The street ahead stretches wide and neither of you are in a rush. <<button "Walking home" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 20">><</button>>

<<set $shoes to 0>>\ You're halfway through tying your shoes when the doorbell rings. You jump up, grab your phone, and jog down the stairs two at a time. You open the door to find Samantha standing on your porch, slightly flushed, her sleeves pushed up and a half-full water bottle dangling from one hand. Her hair's still covered under her beanie, a little messy from the breeze, and there's a grin stretched wide across her face. @@.samantha;"Behold!"@@ she announces, arms thrown wide like a magician. @@.samantha;"Your fairy godmother has arrived. I bring fashion advice, emotional damage, and possibly foot blisters."@@ You grin. @@.player;"You walked?"@@ @@.samantha;"Of course I walked. What am I, a coward?"@@ she says, pushing past you into the entryway. @@.samantha;"I am committed to the cause and to cardio. Also, I don't have a car."@@ You laugh, shutting the door behind her. She spins in place, taking in the familiar hallway like she's evaluating a crime scene. Then she freezes. @@.samantha;"Wait,"@@ she says slowly, like something just occurred to her. @@.samantha;"We're walking to the mall too, aren't we?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"I mean... yeah? We always do."@@ She stares at you, Then stares at the floor. Then lets out the most theatrical sigh known to mankind, slumping forward like a soldier who just realized the battlefield is uphill both ways. @@.samantha;"Bro, I //just// walked here,"@@ she groans, head tilted toward the ceiling in dramatic despair. @@.samantha;"That's like twenty minutes already! My legs have rights, you know."@@ @@.player;"You okay there?"@@ @@.samantha;"No,"@@ she mutters, straightening up and unscrewing her water bottle. @@.samantha;"But don't worry. My suffering only makes me stronger."@@ She takes a long swig, then caps the bottle with a snap and tosses it into her bag. @@.samantha;"Alright."@@ She claps her hands once, then jabs a finger toward the door like she's leading an expedition. @@.samantha;"Onward to the mall, my dude. Let's go buy you an identity."@@ You open the door again, laughing as she marches past you with renewed, if slightly reluctant, purpose. The road ahead is long, but somehow, it doesn't feel quite so far with her walking beside you. <<button "Onward!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 3">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/home-exteriornd.png">\ The walk home takes longer than you remember. Maybe it's the weight of the bags, maybe it's the slow drag of the night air, or maybe it's just how your legs feel like warm jelly after spending half the day zigzagging across mall tiles. Either way, by the time your neighborhood finally comes into view—quiet, familiar, and dimly lit—it feels like you've both just returned from war. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ Samantha pants, her breath visible in the cool air. @@.samantha;"I'm just saying, I hope whatever god cursed humanity with two arms instead of four is //really// enjoying this."@@ You grunt, adjusting the handles of your bags where they dig into your fingers. @@.player;"We did fine."@@ She looks over at you, one eyebrow arched. @@.samantha;"You bought a ton of things. I carried, like, half. I'm not even mad, but I ''do'' want you to know I expect compensation. Preferably in the form of back massages or eternal gratitude."@@ @@.player;"Noted,"@@ you say, huffing a laugh. The porch comes into view—home, finally. The warm light spilling from the front window feels especially welcoming after the long walk, and you trudge up the steps with what little energy you have left. Unfortunately, with both your arms full of bags, there's no way you can reach for your keys. @@.player;"Uh,"@@ you say, shifting your weight awkwardly. Samantha watches you struggle for a beat. Then she steps up beside you and deadpans, @@.samantha;"Shall I knock using my mind powers or...?"@@ @@.player;"I'm ringing the bell,"@@ you mutter, tilting sideways just enough to jab your elbow against the doorbell. The sound of the chime inside is followed by the soft shuffle of footsteps, and a second later, the door swings open to reveal your mom. She blinks at you, surprised—then breaks into a smile. @@.girl;"Oh my gosh,"@@ she says, her eyes widening. @@.girl;"What happened to just looking?"@@ You glance down at the mountain of bags hanging off your wrists. @@.player;"Uh... We looked. Then we looked harder."@@ Your mom laughs, the sound light and warm. @@.girl;"Well, it looks like you had fun."@@ She spots Samantha behind you, her own arms loaded down with a few of your larger bags. Her expression softens even more. @@.girl;"Samantha,"@@ your mom says, stepping aside to hold the door open. @@.girl;"You are //such// a good friend. Thank you for sticking with him all day."@@ Samantha gives a grin, puts down the bags, and offers a quick salute. @@.samantha;"Someone had to be the voice of reason. Not that he bothered to listen."@@ @@.girl;"I'm sure he appreciated it anyway,"@@ your mom says with a wink. Then she gestures into the house. @@.girl;"You're welcome to come in, by the way. We've got tea, or soda, or I could make some eggs—"@@ Samantha waves a hand, stepping back onto the porch. @@.samantha;"I'd better head home before my legs give out completely. Also, I'm like, 99% sure if I sit down, I'm never getting back up."@@ Your mom nods, but you can see a glint of concern in her eyes. She disappears into the kitchen for all of five seconds and returns with a chilled plastic water bottle, condensation dripping down the sides. @@.girl;"Well, at least take this,"@@ she insists, pressing it into Samantha's hand. @@.girl;"You've earned it."@@ Samantha blinks at the bottle, then snorts. @@.samantha;"Thanks, Mrs. Yoon. Hydration is the final boss of today."@@ @@.player;"Text me when you get home?"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"Will do,"@@ she says, taking a step back down the porch. @@.samantha;"Assuming my arms still function by then."@@ Your mom leans against the doorframe, smiling fondly. @@.girl;"Be safe walking, okay? And thank you again."@@ @@.samantha;"Anytime,"@@ Samantha calls, already heading down the steps. @@.samantha;"Good luck unpacking, hoarder."@@ You turn to your mom, who's still watching Samantha disappear into the dark. Her eyes crinkle at the corners. @@.girl;"She's a keeper,"@@ she says softly. @@.player;"She is,"@@ you reply. @@.girl;"Come on,"@@ she says, stepping back into the house. @@.girl;"Let's get all that inside before your arms fall off."@@ You step through the door, the bags rustling around you as the porch light clicks off behind you and the night returns to its quiet hum. <<button "Back home" "Day 18 - 7">><</button>>

The walk to the mall isn't glamorous—mostly cracked sidewalks, old gum stains, and the occasional earsore of a car speeding by. But with Samantha beside you, it somehow feels less like a slog and more like a weird little adventure. She's already talking by the time you hit the first crosswalk. @@.samantha;"So,"@@ she says, bouncing slightly on her heels, @@.samantha;"I was watching this makeup tutorial last night—not because I needed it, but because I like knowing useless things—and this girl said, completely unironically, that the secret to flawless eyeliner was believing in yourself."@@ You snort. @@.player;"What, like a magical princess?"@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly. Just full-on Cinderella with a felt tip pen. I'm pretty sure the next step was singing a song about winged liner and friendship."@@ You glance both ways before crossing. @@.player;"Did it work?"@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, definitely not,"@@ Samantha says, grinning. @@.samantha;"I tried it and ended up looking like I lost a fight with a ballpoint pen. But it was very motivational."@@ The sun's warm, the sky clear, and she talks like there's no rush to get anywhere—which, technically, there isn't. Every few steps, she veers into another story: a dream she had where her cat learned to talk and immediately sued her for emotional damages, a rant about Pacific Crest's cafeteria sandwiches (@@.samantha;"If you're gonna call it turkey, I expect bird, not beige sponge"@@), and a ten-minute tangent about a book she didn't finish because one of the characters wore fingerless gloves. You don't say much at first. Just listen, let her carry the conversation like she's done a hundred times before. But eventually, her energy pulls you in, like it always does, and before long you're cracking jokes and walking a little faster just to keep up with her pace. At one point, she stops to point at a sad little patch of grass growing out of a sidewalk crack. @@.samantha;"Look at her,"@@ she says, hands on her hips. @@.samantha;"Just trying to live her little grass life in a world that hates her."@@ You squint down at it. @@.player;"Should we name it?"@@ @@.samantha;"Obviously. Her name is Alyssa and she's a freelance poet."@@ You both stand there solemnly for a second. @@.player;"Rest in peace, Alyssa,"@@ you say, and you keep walking like you didn't just have a funeral for a weed. As you continue walking, you wonder what conversation topic you should bring up. <<button "Do you think I've changed a lot lately?" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 4">>\<<set $d18samquestion to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samquestion" "Do you think I've changed a lot lately?" "story">><</button>> <<button "Do you think I have any fashion potential?" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 4">>\<<set $d18samquestion to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samquestion" "Do you think I have any fashion potential?" "story">><</button>> <<button "Okay, tell me your most cursed mall memory" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 4">>\<<set $d18samquestion to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samquestion" "Okay, tell me your most cursed mall memory" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18samquestion is 0>>\ <<if $acceptance > 19>>\ The sidewalk stretches ahead, sun-warmed and cracked, dotted with weeds that have fought their way through concrete. You and Samantha walk side by side, your shadows bobbing along the curb, sometimes overlapping. She's mid-story about some bizarre soap opera she caught a few minutes of the other day—something about twins, amnesia, and a priest who's secretly a billionaire—when your mind drifts. You let her words fade for a moment, the rhythm of her noise becoming more background music than conversation, until the question bubbling in your chest finally slips out. @@.player;"Hey... do you think I've changed a lot lately?"@@ She's quiet for a beat—not awkward, just thoughtful. Her eyes flick toward you, then back to the sidewalk. @@.samantha;"I mean... yeah. Obviously. I see it. The, uh... the physical stuff is kind of hard to miss."@@ She gestures vaguely in your direction, eyebrows raised, but not unkindly. @@.samantha;"You're definitely not built like how you were last year."@@ You laugh under your breath, and she grins. @@.samantha;"But it's more than that,"@@ she goes on. @@.samantha;"You seem... I don't know. Lighter? Not in a floating-away sense, but like... like you're not dragging yourself around anymore."@@ @@.player;"Huh,"@@ you say, surprised by how accurate that feels. @@.samantha;"What I'm trying to say is,"@@ she continues, a little more serious now, @@.samantha;"I know this wasn't your choice. The $referto and everything—it's heavy. And I was ready for you to freak out, or push it all away, or try to, like, brute-force your way back to what you were."@@ @@.player;"Was kind of my first instinct,"@@ you admit. She nods. @@.samantha;"But you didn't stay there. You're not fighting it the same way anymore. You're actually letting yourself see what fits. Not just clothes, but like—yourself. And that's kind of cool."@@ You don't respond right away. It's a lot, hearing her say that. Hearing someone //see// it. The world's been changing around you for days now, and this is one of the few times someone's put it into words that feel... kind. Samantha, of all people. You glance over. @@.player;"You've gotten weirdly insightful lately."@@ She makes a face. @@.samantha;"Ugh, I know. Don't tell anyone. Ruins the brand."@@ You smile. The mall finally comes into view, glass windows glinting in the afternoon sun, banners waving lazily above the entrance. Samantha shades her eyes dramatically. @@.samantha;"At last. Civilization."@@ @@.player;"We only walked twenty minutes."@@ @@.samantha;"Still. My calves are screaming."@@ You roll your eyes, but your smile lingers as the two of you head toward the entrance. The glass doors slide open with a hiss of air conditioning, and you step into the mall side by side—ready for whatever chaos comes next. <<else>>\ The mall's still a ways off—maybe five minutes if you don't stop for drinks or get sidetracked by a particularly aggressive patch of shade—but you can see it in the distance now, the lines of parking spaces visible behind the line of trees. Your legs are starting to ache, but you keep walking. Partly because Samantha's setting a brisk pace and talking nonstop, and partly because you don't want to lose the nerve. You're quiet for a beat too long, and she notices. @@.samantha;"What's up?"@@ she asks flatly. @@.samantha;"Did you accidentally swallow a bug or just remember something humiliating from seventh grade?"@@ You glance at her, the corner of your mouth twitching. @@.player;"Neither. I just... wanted to ask something."@@ She slows just enough to shoot you a sideways glance. @@.samantha;"Go on."@@ You watch your feet move over the sidewalk. One step, then the next. @@.player;"Do you think I've changed a lot lately?"@@ Samantha's quiet for a second. A real second, not her usual dramatic pause. You risk a glance at her. She's not smirking. Her brow is furrowed like she's turning the question over in her head before she hands you the answer. @@.samantha;"I mean... yeah,"@@ she says finally, not unkindly. @@.samantha;"You have."@@ There's a rock in your throat now, just sitting there. You nod a little, trying to keep your voice casual. @@.player;"Physically, or...?"@@ @@.samantha;"Physically, definitely."@@ She gestures vaguely at you. @@.samantha;"You've got the whole magical puberty speedrun going on. New shape, new face, new everything."@@ You let out a weak laugh. @@.player;"Great."@@ @@.samantha;"But mentally?"@@ she says, and now her voice is slower. @@.samantha;"Honestly, it kind of seems like you're dragging your feet."@@ That stings more than you expect it to. She sees your expression and clarifies. @@.samantha;"Not in a mean way, okay? I'm not saying you're doing anything wrong. I just... I notice you freezing up, or zoning out when people call you cute, or pretending you don't hear stuff."@@ @@.player;"It's just a lot,"@@ you say, trying to shrug it off. @@.samantha;"$name, I ''know'' it's a lot,"@@ she says, with more bite in her tone now—but not at you. At the whole situation. @@.samantha;"You got cursed by a witch at the Autumn Festival. That's, like, insane."@@ You laugh despite yourself. @@.samantha;"But,"@@ she goes on, looking straight ahead, @@.samantha;"the changes aren't the problem. Hating the changes—that's what makes it harder."@@ Your chest tightens. You don't say anything, because you're not sure what to say. You're not even sure if she's right. Maybe she is. For a while, neither of you speak. The only sounds are the crunching of autumn leaves and the low hum of traffic. Then she exhales, stretching her arms over her head, and says, @@.samantha;"Anyway. Enough feelings. We're, like, two minutes away from air conditioning and overpriced pretzels. Focus."@@ You glance up. There it is. The mall. Big glass panels, sun glaring off the windows, and that familiar parking lot where the pavement's cracked just enough to trip you if you're not paying attention. The place you've walked past a hundred times but never really entered. Not like this, at least. You swallow once, then again. Samantha gives you a look. @@.samantha;"Ready to shop till you drop?"@@ You manage a nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Let's do it."@@ And together, you step into the parking lot, the mall looming just ahead. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18samquestion is 1>>\ The autumn leaves on the sidewalk crunches faintly beneath your sneakers. You and Samantha have been walking for a while now, trading stories or half-baked takes on pop culture—everything from ranking how boring each teacher is to whether dogs would have podcasts if they could talk. (Samantha maintains that they absolutely would, and that they'd all be about snacks.) But the laughter dies down for a second, and the question that's been tugging at your thoughts finally slips out. @@.player;"Be honest,"@@ you say, glancing sideways at her. @@.player;"Do you think I have any fashion potential?"@@ Samantha stops dead in her tracks. You turn to look at her, unsure if you've said anything weird, but she's just standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, arms crossed, staring at you like you just asked her to assess an ancient artifact. @@.samantha;"Huh,"@@ she says at last, narrowing her eyes. @@.player;"...What?"@@ She circles you once—literally walks around you—like she's examining something important. @@.samantha;"Well,"@@ she starts, dragging the word out like it's heavy. @@.samantha;"Let me put it this way. You're not totally hopeless."@@ @@.player;"That's encouraging,"@@ you say flatly. @@.samantha;"You've got decent posture, and I guess your face is fine or whatever,"@@ she says with a casual wave of her hand. @@.samantha;"But your current wardrobe is actively working against you. Like, hostilely."@@ @@.player;"Come on, it's not that bad,"@@ you insist, although you're not sure if even you believe those words. She raises her eyebrows. @@.samantha;"$name, I could recreate your outfit using any white dad's wardrobe."@@ You groan. @@.player;"Okay, okay. I get it."@@ She grins, clearly enjoying herself now. @@.samantha;"But,"@@ she adds, lifting a finger like she's about to make a dramatic speech, @@.samantha;"lucky for you, I have decided to bestow upon you the ancient wisdom of the fashion gods."@@ @@.player;"Oh boy."@@ @@.samantha;"Today,"@@ she declares, throwing her arms out wide, @@.samantha;"I, Samantha Rivera, ''save'' you."@@ You try to act unimpressed, but your mouth quirks up anyway. There's something comforting about how excited she gets. Even when she's roasting you, she's //invested//. @@.player;"Alright, savior,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Lead the way."@@ And right on cue, the mall comes into view—its wide glass facade glinting in the sunlight, the automatic doors just barely visible up ahead like the gateway to some chaotic makeover saga. Samantha shades her eyes and squints. @@.samantha;"There it is. The promised land."@@ @@.player;"It's a mall,"@@ you state, deadpan. @@.samantha;"It's //your// mall now, $name,"@@ she says solemnly. @@.samantha;"Where you will rise from the ashes of white tees and khaki sin."@@ You snort as the two of you walk the final stretch. The doors slide open with a soft hiss, and you step inside, the blast of cool air wrapping around you like a prelude to whatever madness Samantha has planned. <<elseif $d18samquestion is 2>>\ You're about three-quarters through the long, sun-drenched trek to the mall when you glance sideways at Samantha and ask, @@.player;"Alright. What's your most cursed mall memory?"@@ She doesn't even hesitate. @@.samantha;"Easy. Forever 13. Dressing room. Sixth grade. The incident."@@ You blink. @@.player;"...What incident?"@@ She lets out a sigh like she's bracing for emotional turbulence. @@.samantha;"So. I'm trying on these jeans, right? And it's one of those pairs with a bunch of holes in them, 'cause apparently that was my aesthetic back then."@@ You stifle a laugh. She continues. @@.samantha;"I'm feeling myself. I'm doing that little mirror twirl thing. And I hear this sound behind me, like a //splat//. I turn around and—boom. There's a fucking churro on the floor of the dressing room. Sitting there. Judging me."@@ @@.player;"A churro?"@@ you ask, squinting. @@.samantha;"Yup. Cinnamon sugar. No wrapper. Just sitting on the tile."@@ You cough, trying not to lose it. @@.player;"Did someone throw it in there?"@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, I //wish//,"@@ she says, raising a hand. @@.samantha;"I look up. There's a vent. I look closer. I see that there's a second churro. Wedged. In the vent."@@ You stare at her, trying to picture it. @@.player;"You're telling me—someone was stuffing churros into the air system?"@@ @@.samantha;"That's what I said! But when I told the employees, she looked me dead in the eyes and said, 'Oh yeah, he's back.' Like it was a thing."@@ You stop walking for a second, unable to breathe as you laugh. Samantha just keeps marching, eyes narrowed like she's reliving the trauma. @@.samantha;"So now, every time I go to that store, I get flashbacks,"@@ she says, shaking her head. @@.samantha;"You know how some people have war stories? I have churro trauma."@@ @@.player;"I'm never going near a vent."@@ @@.samantha;"Good,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"It's how they get you."@@ You're still giggling when the mall finally comes into view, its glass doors glittering in the sunlight like the gates of some ridiculous temple. Samantha shields her eyes dramatically. @@.samantha;"There it is,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Ground zero for fashion, capitalism, and unexplained baked goods."@@ You adjust your bag and fall into step beside her. @@.player;"Lets do this."@@ @@.samantha;"May the churros stay in their proper places,"@@ she intones, making a solemn sign in the air. The two of you step forward as the automatic doors whoosh open, blasting you with crisp, chilled air and the distant echo of pop music. Mall acquired. Chaos pending. <</if>>\ <<button "Into the mall!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 5">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/mall.png"> The mall swallows you up in a rush of cool, manufactured air and the faint scent of cinnamon pretzels, fabric softener, and whatever cologne they're spraying at the men's department two stores down. It's a sudden shift from the sticky heat of outside to the sterile environment of retail therapy central. Floors polished so clean you can see the overhead lights reflecting, shoppers weaving in and out of storefronts, and ambient music pulsing softly from the ceiling. Samantha exhales like she's just crossed a brutal desert and made it to a glittering oasis. @@.samantha;"God, I forgot how dramatic this place is."@@ She stops just past the entrance and plants her hands on her hips, surveying the territory. Her eyes narrow, scanning the chaotic sprawl of stores—neon signage, pastel mannequins, glossy logos promising 30% off and new drops. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ she mutters, turning toward the oversized directory kiosk glowing to your right. She marches over to it like she's about to challenge it to a duel. @@.samantha;"Let's see. Blink + Shine is still around, that's good. NovaTrend... might be too preppy, but worth a look. And Cuddle Creations—okay, not fashion store, but emotionally necessary."@@ You glance sideways at her. @@.player;"Are we building a tactical plan of attack?"@@ @@.samantha;"Obviously. If we don't strategize, we'll end up in the back of a clearance bin surrounded by haunted denim."@@ She taps the screen to zoom in on the west wing of the mall, eyes tracking the store locations with laser focus. The mall isn't huge, but it's sprawling enough that one wrong turn could land you between a sleepwear boutique and a vitamin kiosk with no escape. Then, mid-scan, she pauses. Turns to you. Cocks an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"You have a bra, right?"@@ she asks, completely casual. You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ She squints at you like you've just said something confusing. @@.samantha;"I mean, obviously you do,"@@ she says, voice edged with that signature Samantha confidence, like the answer is so obvious it barely qualifies as a question. @@.samantha;"Right?"@@ Her tone isn't teasing—well, okay, maybe a little—but it's mostly matter-of-fact, like she's just confirming a checklist before a hike: water, sunscreen, map, bra. Totally normal. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You open your mouth to respond, and for a second, the words catch. @@.player;"I've been using a binder,"@@ you say, finally. @@.player;"Coach Blake gave me one. Like... ten days ago?"@@ Samantha blinks. @@.samantha;"Wait. //Coach Blake// gave you a binder? She's kind of a hardass."@@ You nod. @@.player;"She pulled me aside and said she figured I might want something better than... whatever towel situation I had going on before."@@ @@.samantha;"Huh,"@@ Samantha mutters, her expression flickering through a few phases—surprise, then respect, then something like reluctant admiration. @@.samantha;"Okay. Kinda badass of her."@@ You nod again, unsure where to look. @@.player;"It's been fine. I mean, it works. Sort of."@@ She tilts her head, looking you over again, slower this time. @@.samantha;"But... you have boobs now."@@ You flinch slightly, but her tone isn't mocking. It's just matter-of-fact. Blunt in the way she always is. She pauses. @@.samantha;"Like, //actual// boobs."@@ You glance away. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ She leans in, voice dropping like she's trying to make sure you're not just saying what she thinks you want to say. @@.samantha;"And you've been binding //that//? For ten days?"@@ @@.player;"Not the whole day,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"Just school. And at home. And whenever I'm around people."@@ Samantha stares at you. @@.samantha;"$name,"@@ she says flatly. @@.samantha;"That's... that has to hurt."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur, nodding. @@.player;"It does."@@ For a second, she doesn't say anything. Her mouth opens, closes. Then she exhales sharply and scrubs a hand down her face. @@.samantha;"I'm not mad,"@@ she says, clearly trying to keep her voice level. @@.samantha;"I'm just—//dude//. That's not healthy. You can't just squish your lungs and ribs like that and call it a day."@@ @@.player;"I didn't really know what else to do,"@@ you admit, voice quiet. @@.samantha;"I //get// that,"@@ she says, and there's a note of frustration in her voice now—not at you, but at the situation. @@.samantha;"And, like, shoutout to Coach Blake for stepping up. But that's not a long-term solution, $name. You're not flat anymore. That binder wasn't made for... all this."@@ She gestures vaguely at your torso, then sighs again. @@.samantha;"Look, if you're in pain every day just to feel like you can exist in public, that's a problem."@@ You try to protest, but she's already stepping forward and grabbing your wrist. Not hard. Just enough to make it clear that this conversation is over and a new phase is beginning. @@.samantha;"Come on,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"We're going to the bra store. Now."@@ @@.player;"Samantha—"@@ @@.samantha;"Nope,"@@ she cuts you off. @@.samantha;"This isn't optional. I'm not letting you walk around with compressed ribs like you're trying to cosplay a pancake. We're fixing this. You're getting something that fits, that feels okay, and that doesn't actively hurt you."@@ You manage a faint smile. @@.player;"You're bossy when you care."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm always bossy,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"Now shut up and let me be your responsible adult for the next fifteen minutes."@@ Before you can get another word in, she's already tugging you down the corridor, weaving expertly through crowds of shoppers. You catch a glimpse of the store sign ahead—bright pink, mannequins in bralettes, a welcoming little heart in the logo—and your stomach flips a bit. You're not sure what's about to happen in there, but with Samantha beside you—fierce, focused, and fully committed—you suddenly feel just a little less scared. <<else>>\ You hesitate for a moment, then glance away, your voice low. @@.player;"I've just been using a towel to bind my chest."@@ Samantha stops. You don't look at her, but you can feel the shift in her energy like a temperature drop. @@.samantha;"...What?"@@ she says, flat. You scratch the back of your neck. @@.player;"Like... one of the older ones. It's soft. I wrap it around tight and—y'know, just keep it under my shirt."@@ @@.samantha;"You've been binding with a towel?"@@ she repeats, voice rising in pitch. @@.player;"It works,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"Sort of. I mean, it flattens things. Enough."@@ There's a long pause. You risk a glance at her and find her staring at you with wide eyes and a look that's caught somewhere between horrified, furious, and heartbreakingly concerned. @@.samantha;"Jesus, $name,"@@ she breathes. @@.samantha;"Are you trying to crush your own ribs?"@@ You try to laugh it off. @@.player;"Only emotionally."@@ @@.samantha;"No. Nope. No bad jokes. I am—"@@ She pinches the bridge of her nose. @@.samantha;"You absolute disaster. Of course you used a towel. Might as well use a medieval torture device to survive the next week. The brazen bull or iron maiden sounds about right."@@ @@.player;"It was all I had,"@@ you mumble. Her eyes flick to your chest, then back to your face, and for a second all the sarcasm drains out of her. @@.samantha;"Does it hurt?"@@ You hesitate before nodding. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ She closes her eyes like that physically pained her. @@.samantha;"$name."@@ You open your mouth, but she raises a hand before you can speak. @@.samantha;"I'm not mad at you,"@@ she says, and her voice has that raw edge again, like she's holding something in. @@.samantha;"I'm mad that you felt you had to do that. That it got bad enough you were just walking around every day with a towel duct-taped to your ribs like that's normal."@@ @@.player;"It's not duct-taped—"@@ @@.samantha;''"Not the point!"''@@ You fall silent. She exhales hard, then softens, stepping closer. @@.samantha;"Look, I get it. I really do. The curse, your body, all this confusing hormone-wizardry... It's a lot. And I know you've been trying to just power through it like you always do. But hurting yourself to survive it? That's not powering through. That's slowly falling apart."@@ You look down at the floor, throat tight. @@.samantha;"I'm sorry for yelling, I just //hate// seeing you like this,"@@ she says, softer now. @@.samantha;"You're my best friend. And yeah, I give you crap all the time, but that's because you wear cargo shorts unironically, not because I want you suffering in silence."@@ You huff out a weak laugh. @@.player;"They have good pockets."@@ @@.samantha;"They have sins,"@@ she corrects, eyes narrowing. Then she grabs your wrist. @@.samantha;"Okay. That's it. Emergency boob intervention time. We're going to the bra store. Now."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.samantha;"No arguments,"@@ she snaps. @@.samantha;"You're getting properly measured, you're getting something soft and supportive, and we're retiring that stupid-ass towel to a life of drying dishes like God intended."@@ You try to protest, but she's already dragging you down the corridor, her grip warm and unwavering. @@.samantha;"You don't have to wear it forever,"@@ she adds over her shoulder. @@.samantha;"You just have to //not// crush your ribcage like you're reenacting a Victorian corset ad."@@ You don't know whether to laugh or hide, but there's something about the way she keeps glancing back to make sure you're still with her that makes it all feel... less terrifying. The bra store comes into view up ahead—bright pink, mannequins in bralettes, a welcoming little heart in the logo. You're not sure what's waiting for you inside. But you are sure that Samantha's not letting go of your wrist until you get there. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ You scratch the back of your neck and glance away. @@.player;"I don't."@@ Samantha turns to look at you fully, one eyebrow raised. @@.samantha;"Wait—you don't have a bra? Like, at all?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"I mean... I still have a flat chest. I didn't really think I needed one yet."@@ For a second, she just stares at you, like she's trying to process a puzzle that doesn't quiet add up. Then she makes a face. Not judgmental—just baffled, like she's genuinely concerned about how you've made it this far without spontaneously combusting from discomfort. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ she says, exhaling. @@.samantha;"Yeah, no. That's gonna change. Now."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What? Why?"@@ She throws her hands up. @@.samantha;"Because, $name, have you //looked// at yourself lately?"@@ You glance down at your top. @@.player;"I mean, kinda?"@@ <<if $feminineLooks > 39>>\ Samantha gives you a quick once-over. @@.samantha;"You know you're giving 'who are they' energy, right? Like people are gonna do a double take and then argue about whether you're a boy or a girl."@@ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 59>>\ She gestures at you with both hands like it's obvious. @@.samantha;"$name, people are gonna see you and assume you're a girl who just happens to thrift her clothes."@@ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 79>>\ Samantha stops, stares at you, and lets out a small, incredulous laugh. @@.samantha;"Okay, real talk? No one's clocking you as anything but a girl right now. Like, zero confusion."@@ <</if>>\ You open your mouth to object, but she cuts you off with a wave. @@.samantha;"And no, I'm not saying you need a push-up bra, or, like, lace or anything. But, dude—people are gonna start making assumptions. Like, soon. And wearing the same tops and pretending you haven't changed isn't gonna work forever."@@ You fold your arms. @@.player;"I was just trying not to overthink it."@@ @@.samantha;"And that's why I exist,"@@ she says proudly, placing a hand on her chest. @@.samantha;"To overthink it //for// you."@@ You sigh, but there's no real resistance in it. Samantha's never exactly been subtle, but when she gets that determined glint in her eye—the one she usually reserves for school projects and vending machine attacks—you know there's no point in arguing. She softens just a little bit, putting her hand on your shoulder. @@.samantha;"Look. I'm not saying a bra is, like, a magical fix. But even a simple one? It's gonna feel better. More secure. You won't have to keep adjusting your top like you're smuggling a loaf of bread under there."@@ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ @@.samantha;"You're welcome!"@@ she says cheerfully. @@.samantha;"Now come on. Bra store's this way."@@ Before you can protest, she loops her fingers around you wrist and starts marching off with purpose, weaving through clusters of shoppers like she owns the place. You stumble a bit trying to keep up. @@.player;"Samantha—"@@ @@.samantha;"Nope. Too late. You had your chance,"@@ she says over her shoulder. @@.samantha;"You asked for fashion help, and you're getting the Full Sam Experience™. That includes properly supportive undergarments and exactly zero arguments."@@ You sigh again, but you're smiling, just a little. Up ahead the storefront comes into view—bright pink, mannequins in bralettes, a welcoming little heart in the logo. The music playing is some kind of ethereal indie pop, and the air smells faintly like new cotton. Samantha squeezes your wrist, not hard, but firmly enough to show she's by your side. You know she's right with you. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ @@.player;"I mean... kinda,"@@ you say. Samantha narrows her eyes at you immediately. @@.samantha;"//Kinda?//"@@ You shrug, sheepish. @@.player;"Someone gave me a sports bra. Like a spare. I've just been wearing that."@@ Her brows shoot up. @@.samantha;"Oh wow, a random sports bra. Truly, the pinnacle of precision support."@@ You sigh. @@.player;"It's not that bad."@@ She gives you a look—sharp and skeptical. @@.samantha;"$name. Come on. You haven't even been //measured//, have you?"@@ You shake your head, already bracing for what's coming. @@.samantha;"Of course not,"@@ she mutters, half to herself. @@.samantha;"Because why would you do the sane thing when you could just gamble your comfort on mystery spandex?"@@ You smile faintly. @@.player;"It was free."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh great, even better,"@@ she says, throwing her hands up. @@.samantha;"Because nothing screams 'perfect fit' like a mystery bra from someone's drawer."@@ @@.player;"I didn't want to make a big deal out of it,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"It was just... easier."@@ Samantha's expression softens, the sarcasm cooling to something gentler beneath the surface. @@.samantha;"Look, I'm glad you've got //something//, okay? That's already better than wrapping yourself in duct tape or whatever horror you were probably considering. But, $name—be real. You've got boobs now."@@ You flush but say nothing. She nudges you lightly with her elbow. @@.samantha;"And I say this with love and possibly a moral obligation as your best friend: your girls deserve better."@@ You laugh despite yourself, covering your face with one hand. @@.player;"God, don't call them that."@@ @@.samantha;"Then //you// come up with a better term,"@@ she says cheerfully. @@.samantha;"In the meantime, we're getting you properly measured by someone who knows what they're doing."@@ @@.player;"I don't know if I'm ready for all that,"@@ you admit. She arches an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Too bad. I'm dragging you straight into the land of lace and logic. It's happening."@@ And true to her word, she grabs you wrist before you can think of a clever excuse and starts pulling you. @@.samantha;"You can hide behind a hoodie all you want,"@@ she says over her shoulder, @@.samantha;"but you are not walking around in a mystery bra like some kind of boob cryptid. We're fixing this."@@ You groan softly but let yourself be dragged along, her grip firm and warm around your wrist. The storefront glows in front of you—bright pink, mannequins in bralettes, a welcoming little heart in the logo—and for once, you don't feel like bolting. You're still nervous, sure. But with Samantha in front, determined and unapologetic, you figure you can survive anything for a little while longer. Even this. <<else>>\ You shift your weight awkwardly and glance off to the side. @@.player;"I mean... kinda?"@@ Samantha stops in her tracks. @@.samantha;"Kinda?"@@ she echoes, already suspicious. @@.samantha;"What does //kinda// mean? You either have a bra or you don't."@@ You wince. @@.player;"I... don't."@@ There's a beat. Then her eyes go wide. @@.samantha;"Wait—you've just been freeballing it?"@@ You make a vague gesture. @@.player;"I've been wearing, like, regular tops. Hoodies. T-shirts. Loose stuff."@@ She stares at you, utterly scandalized. @@.samantha;"$name. You have ''boobs''. You can't just let them roam. That's not a sustainable lifestyle."@@ You open your mouth, but she steamrolls over whatever excuse you were about to offer. @@.samantha;"No support? No structure? No //anything//? What, are you just out here letting gravity take the wheel like it's a trust exercise?"@@ You start to laugh despite yourself, but she's not done. She pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering like she's genuinely concerned for your future. @@.samantha;"I swear to God, if I ever have to hear you complain about back pain after this, I'm just gonna throw a bra at you and walk away."@@ @@.player;"I didn't think it was that big of a deal,"@@ you say weakly. @@.player;"They're not... that big."@@ @@.samantha;"Not the point!"@@ she snaps, waving dramatically. @@.samantha;"It's not about size, it's about support, comfort, health, the sanctity of your poor, innocent spine—should I keep going?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you sigh, already knowing exactly where this is heading. She folds her arms, eyes narrowing with renewed purpose. @@.samantha;"You are getting a bra. //Today.// A real one. With straps and measurements and cups and everything."@@ You take a half-step back. @@.player;"Do I have a say in this?"@@ @@.samantha;"Nope!"@@ she chirps, grabbing your wrist. @@.samantha;"You lost that right the moment you said 'kinda' and confessed to letting your boobs just hang out like a couple of unpaid interns."@@ You groan as she starts hauling you down the corridor, but there's no real fight in you. Her grip is solid, her hair bouncing with each determined step as she cuts through the crowd with the efficiency of someone on a sacred mission. The bra store looms ahead—bright pink, mannequins in bralettes, a welcoming little heart in the logo. The inside smells like new cotton. @@.samantha;"Don't worry,"@@ Samantha says over her shoulder as she yanks you toward the entrance. @@.samantha;"We'll start simple. Nothing lacy. Nothing frilly. Just something that'll keep your chest from floating around like a pair of confused ghosts."@@ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Thanks for the visual."@@ @@.samantha;"You're welcome. Now get in there."@@ The doors slide open. You take a breath. And let her pull you inside. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Bra store!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 6">><</button>>

The moment the store door closes behind you, the atmosphere changes completely. It's warmer inside than the mall corridor, tinged with floral perfume and a soft trace of vanilla that seems baked into the walls. The lighting is low and warm, the kind that makes everything look softer, slower. Even the way the displays are arranged feels intentional—gentle and careful, like the whole place is trying to wrap you in a quiet hug. Lace and cotton bralettes line the walls in neat pastel rows, some folded, some hung. A few mannequins stand nearby in coordinated sets, posed like they know exactly what they're doing here. Samantha steps forward like she's been here before—maybe she //has//—and casually gestures for you to follow. You do, feeling a little nervous, but taking one wary step at a time nevertheless. Behind the counter stands a woman that looks to be in her late-twenties, sorting a pile of neatly wrapped hangers into bins. Her sleek hair is pulled into a low bun, and her nametag reads Riley. When she sees you both, she smiles without missing a beat. Not that overly cheery customer service smile—just an easy, grounded one that makes your stomach unclench half a notch. @@.girl;"Hey there,"@@ Riley says, tucking the last hanger away and coming around the corner. @@.girl;"Can I help you two with anything?"@@ Samantha jumps in immediately, her voice smooth and just vague enough. @@.samantha;"Yup—my friend here needs a fitting. First time. Hasn't been measured before."@@ Riley nods like she hears that every day. If she notices the slight awkwardness in the air, she doesn't show it. No weird expression, no raised brow, no glance that lingers longer than it should. @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ she says warmly. @@.girl;"No pressure here. We'll just get some measurements and bring out a few starter styles. Nothing too tight or loose, nothing itchy. Comfort is the priority."@@ You nod once, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. She turns and starts leading you toward the back, and Samantha walks alongside her, already scanning the displays like she's mentally building an outfit in her head. @@.girl;"Let me knows if there are any fabrics or styles you absolutely hate,"@@ Riley says. @@.girl;"This store's got wireless, lightly padded, structured, unstructured—basically, if you can imagine it, we've got a version of it that won't feel like medieval armor."@@ Samantha pipes up, @@.samantha;"Ooh, what about those ones that feel like clouds but still hold things in place? Asking for a very particular person whose spine deserves some kindness for once."@@ You glance at her with a tired look. @@.player;"You mean me?"@@ @@.samantha;"I would never name names,"@@ she replies sweetly. Riley chuckles, but doesn't push. She stops in front of a row of fitting rooms, each with soft curtains and a tiny sign hung from the hook outside. Thankfully, all of them are empty. @@.girl;"This one's open and good to go,"@@ she says, opening up a door to reveal a cozy space inside—cream-colored walls, lighting that doesn't feel cruel, a plush bench, and a mirror. You take a step forward, then pause, hands at your sides. There's something strange about stepping into a place like this. Private, but not yours. Safe, but unfamiliar. Riley seems to catch the hesitation. She smiles gently and says, @@.girl;"Just let me know whenever you're ready. I'll grab a couple things once we have a general sense of fit."@@ You nod, your throat dry. @@.player;"Okay. Thanks."@@ She gives you a reassuring smile before turning to step away. And then Samantha is standing just outside the fitting room, peeking in, her usual grin softened at the edges. @@.samantha;"Want me to come in with you?"@@ she asks. There's no sarcasm in her voice this time. Just that quiet, slightly crooked sincerity she reserves for when things actually matter. @@.samantha;"I can hang out here if you'd rather. No pressure."@@ <<button "Ask for Samantha to come with you" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 7">>\<<set $d18sambrastorecompany to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_sambrastorecompany" "Ask for Samantha to come with you" "story">><</button>> <<button "Go in alone" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 7">>\<<set $d18sambrastorecompany to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_sambrastorecompany" "Go in alone" "story">><</button>>

<<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $topoff to true>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<if $d18sambrastorecompany is true>>\ You hesitate for a breath, fingers still resting lightly on the edge of the fitting room door. Then you glance back at Samantha, still standing just outside, her head tilted in that patient way she has when she knows you're weighing something. @@.player;"...Yeah,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"You can come in."@@ Her face lights up. Not in that exaggerated, theatrical way she usually puts on when she's about to roast you—but with something real. Soft, excited, proud. @@.samantha;"Hell yes,"@@ she says, pushing the door open just enough to slip inside and click it gently shut behind her. @@.samantha;"Honestly? I was hoping you'd say that. I mean, come on—//I// get to be the one here for your first bra fitting? This is basically sacred best friend duty."@@ You give her a look, but she's already setting her bag down on the little bench in the corner like she's claimed the spot permanently. She flops down with a dramatic sigh and crosses her legs. @@.samantha;"Look, I know I joke a lot, but seriously—I'm honored. This is a big deal. You're not doing this weird limbo thing alone. I got you. And also,"@@ she adds, eyes gleaming a little. @@.samantha;"it is //absolutely// my responsibility to make sure you get a bra that doesn't suck."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"Thanks, Sam."@@ She offers you a thumbs-up like she's been officially assigned as your moral support and emotional bra consultant. You stand in front of the mirror again, hands resting at the hem of your top. You pause. Time to get ready. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You pull your top up and over your head, the fabric catching slightly at the shoulders before slipping off. The air in the fitting room feels cooler against your skin. Underneath, the snug compression fabric clings close—flattening everything into a shape that almost passes for what you used to look like. You've gotten used to it—how it limits your movement, how it hugs too tight under your arms—but standing here, under soft lights, it suddenly feels more obvious Samantha exhales low, eyes flicking to it, then to your face. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ she says, tone unreadable for a second. Then it softens. @@.samantha;"So you //have// been dealing with this on hard mode."@@ You don't say anything at first. She crosses her arms and leans against the wall. @@.samantha;"Well, it's done its job,"@@ she says after a beat. @@.samantha;"But we're absolutely getting you out of that thing and into something that doesn't feel like a medieval chest trap."@@ You manage a weak smile. @@.player;"I'm used to it."@@ @@.samantha;"Doesn't mean you should have to be,"@@ she replies, and there's no sarcasm in her voice this time—just her, steady and present. @@.samantha;"Let's find you something that lets you breathe."@@ <<else>>\ The shirt peels off awkwardly, catching a little where it's tucked into the towel wrapped tight around your chest. It's fraying near the edge, the knot in the back tied just right to hold firm but not cut off your circulation—hopefully. It's not elegant. Not safe. Just what you have. Samantha stares for a second, blinking. Then her expression twists, eyebrows shooting up, mouth already halfway to a word that dies before it's fully formed. @@.samantha;"...That's a ''towel'',"@@ she says, pointing like she's spotted a health code violation in a restaurant. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you mutter, avoiding her eyes. @@.player;"I didn't have anything else."@@ She takes a breath, tapping her foot. @@.samantha;"Okay. First of all—creative. Truly. But also? $name. Bestie. //No.//"@@ You almost laugh at the string of emotions—somewhere between horrified and disappointed. @@.samantha;"You wrapped a towel around yourself like a snack burrito. No wonder you've been walking weird."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It worked."@@ @@.samantha;"Sure. And I //could// use duct tape as eyeliner, and it //would// work, but that doesn't mean I //should//."@@ She looks at you again, really looks, and her voice dips a little. @@.samantha;"Let's get you something that won't try to suffocate you, yeah?"@@ You nod, and she grins faintly. @@.samantha;"That's what I thought."@@ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ You lift your shirt up and over your head in one smooth motion. The air hits your skin—cool, comfortable. There's nothing underneath—no compression, no support gear. Just... you. And despite everything, your chest is still flat. Still unchanged. Samantha watches for a second, her expression unreadable. Then she blinks. @@.samantha;"Huh."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.samantha;"You know, I was ready for, like, something dramatic. Some boobs, I don't know. But you're just..."@@ She gestures vaguely. @@.samantha;"Still doing your thing."@@ You glance at your reflection. @@.player;"I guess I haven't changed much. Not there, anyway."@@ Samantha nods. @@.samantha;"Hey, that's fine. Not a problem, just... good to know. Means we don't have to go full support mode today, but we can still get you something soft and comfy. Never hurts to have options."@@ You tilt your head. @@.player;"You're not gonna make me try on lace?"@@ @@.samantha;"I'm not //that// much of a monster,"@@ she says, scoffing. @@.samantha;"I was thinking cotton. Maybe in beige."@@ You laugh—and it actually feels easy. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ You peel off your top, slow and careful. Underneath, the sports bra clings to you—simple, black, no-frills. It's stretched out in places and not exactly made for... what you've got now, but it does the job. Mostly. The straps dig in a little. It's fine. You've dealt with worse. Samantha's eyes flick over it once, then she lets out a breath like she's been holding it since you walked in. @@.samantha;"Okay. that's something. Functional. Practical. Slightly tragic."@@ You shoot her a look. @@.player;"It was free."@@ @@.samantha;"Let me guess—hand-me-down from someone who runs track and doesn't believe in labels?"@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Something like that."@@ She steps closer and tugs gently at one strap, then lets it snap back. @@.samantha;"That thing's probably older than both of us. You deserve better."@@ @@.player;"It works."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, but so do rotary phones and VHS tapes,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Doesn't mean we're gonna bring them back."@@ She gives your shoulder a quick, reassuring nudge. @@.samantha;"Let's upgrade you to something that doesn't scream 2008."@@ <<else>>\ You pull off your top slowly, suddenly hyper-aware of every movement, every shift in fabric. Your chest is bare underneath—no binder, no layers, no protection. Just skin, soft and real, and no longer something you can ignore or hide. The cool air touches you differently now. You feel exposed. Not in a bad way, just... raw. You don't look at the mirror right away. You don't look at Samantha either. She's quiet for a beat, then her voice comes, gentler than you expected. @@.samantha;"Okay. Wow."@@ You brace yourself. @@.samantha;"Look at you,"@@ she says, not teasing. Not laughing. Just... observing. @@.samantha;"Walking around like this isn't a big deal. That's some grade-A bravery."@@ You finally glance at her. She's not gawking. Just watching. There's a softness in her eyes, like she's been handed something fragile and knows better than to squeeze. You try to joke. @@.player;"Figured I'd let gravity take the wheel."@@ She snorts. @@.samantha;"Gravity's rude. We'll find you something that fights back."@@ Then she adds, quieter. @@.samantha;"And something that makes you feel okay looking at yourself."@@ You nod, slowly. A little unsteady. But glad she's here. She flashes you a half-grin. @@.samantha;"Alright. Let's get measured and fix this."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ There's a soft knock on the fitting room door—two quick raps, light and practiced. @@.girl;"Hey,"@@ comes Riley's voice from the other side, calm and warm. @@.girl;"You two ready for me to come in?"@@ You look up, startled out of your own thoughts. The mirror catches the faint tension in your shoulders, the way your fingers are still curled loosely at your sides. Samantha, sitting cross-legged on the bench now, glances at you instead of the door. Her voice is quieter than usual, but still unmistakably her. @@.samantha;"Are you?"@@ You nod once, steadying your breath. @@.player;"Yeah. I'm ready."@@ She nods back like that settles it. @@.samantha;"Come on in,"@@ she calls toward the door. The knob turns gently, and Riley steps inside with the kind of ease that makes you feel like she's done this a hundred times before—because she has. She doesn't make a show of looking around, doesn't blink twice at Samantha sitting on the bench or at you standing by the mirror. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, smile still soft. @@.girl;"Thanks for waiting. We'll take this one step at a time, okay? Nothing uncomfortable, and you can stop me whenever."@@ You nod again, and Riley closes the door behind her with a quiet click. She pulls a measuring tape from around her neck and straightens slightly, giving you just enough space without feeling distant. @@.girl;"Let's start with a few easy measurements,"@@ she says gently. @@.girl;"You can just relax."@@ You try. <<if $breastsProg is 3>>\ Riley steps closer, her hands steady and sure as she unwraps the measuring tape and gently loops it around your back. @@.girl;"Alright, just breathe normally,"@@ she says, her tone even and calm. @@.girl;"This part's quick."@@ You feel the cool fabric of the tape slide beneath your arms and across your chest. It presses snugly for a moment, not tight, just enough to make you hyper-aware of your shape—of how much there is now. Riley's eyes flick to the numbers, then she adjusts slightly, measuring again just under your bust. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says with a small nod. @@.girl;"Looks like a 36 band... and about a B cup. Pretty balanced fit overall."@@ You freeze a little at that. Hearing it spoken aloud makes it feel real in a new way. Not theoretical. Not just your reflection. Something measurable. Defined. Riley meets your eyes briefly and offers a smile that doesn't feel patronizing. @@.girl;"Nothing out of the ordinary. Super common size. We've got tons of comfy options for this range."@@ From the bench, Samantha nods like she already knew. @@.samantha;"See? I told you you'd have good proportions."@@ You roll your eyes, but you're grateful. <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ The measuring tape glides under your arms and across your chest like a ribbon, cool against your skin. Riley works quickly but gently, adjusting the tape at your back, then again along your bust. @@.girl;"Just breathe easy,"@@ she murmurs. @@.girl;"Almost done."@@ There's a short pause as she checks the number. @@.girl;"Looks like a 34 band,"@@ she says, adjusting slightly and nodding. @@.girl;"And just about an A cup. A classic starting point."@@ You shift slightly on your feet, uncertain whether to be relieved or embarrassed. Riley seems to pick up on it. @@.girl;"Totally normal, by the way. Bodies develop at different speeds. A cup sizes are ''super'' easy to shop for, and a lot of our softer styles are built with this in mind."@@ Samantha hums. @@.samantha;"A-plus for the A-cup,"@@ she says, tapping at the bench with her fingers. @@.samantha;"We're officially in starter bra territory."@@ You huff a quiet laugh and don't quiet meet her eye, but you don't feel as nervous now. <<else>>\ Riley steps in, guiding the tape around your torso with quiet efficiency. It sits flat against your skin—there's nothing to press into, nothing to measure in curves. Just a shape you've always known. She reads the numbers, her voice calm. @@.girl;"32 band,"@@ she says, making a small adjustment, double-checking. @@.girl;"And about an AA cup."@@ You nod faintly. That's about what you expected. Still, hearing it spoken aloud feels... odd. Like something that doesn't quite match everything else you've been going through. But Riley doesn't flinch, doesn't blink. @@.girl;"That's totally valid,"@@ she says, as if reading your thoughts. @@.girl;"Some folks stay here. Some don't. Either way, there are great pieces that'll feel comfortable and still give you coverage or shape if that's what you're after."@@ Samantha leans forward from the bench. @@.samantha;"So basically: we're in comfy bralette territory. Minimalist. Clean. Iconic."@@ You smile, just a little. @@.player;"Sounds manageable."@@ Riley nods, already jotting things down. @@.girl;"Let's find you something that fits just right."@@ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You take a breath, eyes flicking up to meet Samantha's. @@.player;"I think..."@@ You hesitate, then find your voice again. @@.player;"I wanna do this alone."@@ She doesn't even blink. @@.samantha;"Totally fair,"@@ she says, immediately, like she'd already figured that might be your answer. Her voice is gentle, not teasing for once. @@.samantha;"You've got this. I'll be right out here. Holler if you need anything—or if the measuring tape tries to fight you."@@ You manage a small, grateful smile. She gives you a lazy little salute, then backs away with a wink. @@.samantha;"See you on the other side, mystery size."@@ And just like that, she disappears from view, her steps quiet. You reach out and push the door closed. Now it's just you and the mirror. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You pull your top off slowly, already feeling the pressure from the tight, black binder beneath it. It clings to your chest, compressing everything into place like armor. It's familiar, and you've been relying on it for a while now. It works for the most part. But standing under this soft lighting, in this space that's supposed to be about fit and comfort, the way the binder presses into your ribs, suddenly feeling too sharp. Too restrictive. You twist side to side, stretching a little, wincing as the fabric digs in. You catch your reflection in the mirror. The binder gives you shape, or rather, takes shape away. But it also takes ease with it. You don't hate it, but you're not sure if you want to keep wearing something that hurts to feel okay. <<else>>\ You tug your top over your head slowly, wincing as the rough knot of fabric digs into your ribs. The towel you've wrapped around your chest is tight—too tight—but it's the only thing you have. As you undo the makeshift binding, the pressure lifts suddenly, leaving behind a dull ache and a faint red mark. You look at yourself in the mirror and feel both exposed and strangely relieved. The towel was always a temporary solution. You knew that. It was never meant to last, it was just supposed to get you here. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ Your shirt comes off easily, the fabric light over your still-flat chest. There's no curve to hide. Your torso is smooth and angular, the way it's always been, even as everything else seems to keep shifting around you. You glance at your reflection, expecting to feel small. But you don't. Not quite. You don't need a bra for support, at least not yet. But you're here anyway, and it never hurts to get one just in case. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ You lift your top and tug it off in one smooth motion, revealing the snug band of your sports bra underneath. It's plain, and was a gift from someone who thought you'd need it. It does the job, pressing down just enough that you don't think about it too much during the day. You glance at the mirror and run your fingers under the band. It's not uncomfortable, but it's not great either. It's... functional. But you want comfortable. <<else>>\ You pull your shirt over your head slowly, revealing your bare chest underneath. You don't have a bra, or a binder, or anything. Your breasts are soft and visible, a quiet presence that's been increasingly harder to ignore. You came here for a reason. To stop pretending this isn't happening and to be comfortable. Maybe it's time to stop pretending that real is something to be afraid of. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ There's a soft knock on fitting room door—two quick raps, light and practiced. @@.girl;"Hey, it's Riley,"@@ comes her calm voice. @@.girl;"Ready for me to come in for the fitting?"@@ You swallow, barely managing a quiet, @@.player;"Yeah."@@ The door opens and Riley steps inside with a soft smile and a flexible measuring tape looped around her neck. She closes the door gently behind her, moving with a practiced confidence. It's clear she's done this a thousand times and isn't about to make it weird. @@.girl;"No stress,"@@ she says lightly. @@.girl;"It'll just be two quick measurements—should only take a second. Relax your arms for me?"@@ You nod and stand a little straighter, heart fluttering just beneath your skin. <<if $breastsProg is 3>>\ Riley starts with the band measurement—firm but gentle as she wraps the tape beneath your chest. Then she moves upward, looping it carefully around the fullest part of your chest. You feel the heat in your cheeks rise. There is ''definitely'' no hiding the size now. Riley finishes and pulls back with a nod. @@.girl;"You're measuring at a 36B,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"That means you'll probably want medium support—something with shaping, maybe a soft underwire. But there's no pressure to go structured unless you want it."@@ You blink. @@.player;"B?"@@ you repeat in a whisper. @@.girl;"Yep,"@@ she says, unfazed. @@.girl;"That's totally normal. You don't have to hide anything, but you don't have to show anything either. Just choose what feels right to you."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"That... helps."@@ <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ Riley wraps the measuring tape beneath your chest first, the soft edge resting against your ribs. She calls out the band size, then moves it upward, gently looping it across the curve of your chest. There's just enough pressure to feel, not enough to squeeze. You can't help noticing how much //more// there is than there used to be. She just reads the number, pulls back, and smiles. @@.girl;"You're a 34A,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Which means you've got some shape but you're still in the lighter support zone. I'll bring you soft cups, maybe one with some lining if you're curious about it."@@ You nod, arms hovering awkwardly at your sides. @@.girl;"You've got options here,"@@ she adds. @@.girl;"You don't have to hide anything, but you don't have to show anything either. Just choose what feels right to you."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"That... helps."@@ <<else>>\ Riley steps in front of you and wraps the measuring tape around your ribcage, right beneath your chest. It settles there without any resistance—just skin and bone, no curve to measure. She calls out a quiet number under her breath before shifting the tape upward across the flattest part of your chest. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, straightening. @@.girl;"You're measuring around a 32AA. That puts you in a flat-fit or soft bralette category. Just something comfortable and light."@@ You nod, exhaling slowly. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $bind to false>> <<button "See your options" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 8">><</button>>

<<set $bra to $d18bra>>\ <<set $topoff to false>>\ <<set $showbra to true>>\ <<set $braunlock to []>> <<if $d18sambrastorecompany is true>>\ <<if $d18bra is 0>>\ <<set $braunlock[0] to true>>\ You pick up the white bra from the hook, holding it in both hands like you're still not totally sure it's real. It's nothing fancy—no lace, no bows, no pastel polka dots or shimmering straps. Just clean, soft cotton with a gentle curve to the cups and wide, comfortable-looking bands. It's the kind of thing that doesn't try to be anything more than what it is. Simple. Uncomplicated. Quiet. You run your thumb along the edge. There's no dramatic reveal. No butterflies. Just a subtle kind of... yes. @@.player;"I think I'll go with this one,"@@ you say softly, more to yourself than anyone else. Samantha, naturally, hears it anyway. @@.samantha;"The white one?"@@ she echoes, dramatically scandalized. @@.samantha;"Classic. Timeless. Slightly boring. I respect it."@@ You roll your eyes without looking up. @@.samantha;"No, but seriously,"@@ she continues, flopping sideways on the bench like she's doing color commentary on your soul. @@.samantha;"You could've picked the lacy black one that Luke would like. But no. You? You go for soft white. You are terrifyingly responsible."@@ @@.player;"Its comfortable,"@@ you mutter. @@.samantha;"It's aggressively neutral. I love it. You're going full blank-slate-core."@@ You smile faintly and turn back to the mirror, the bra still in your hands. There's no drama to it. No rush. Just you, deciding. You slip the straps over your shoulders and carefully adjust it into place. The band fits snug but not tight. The cups settle comfortably against your chest. It doesn't dig in. It doesn't shout anything about who you are or who you're supposed to be. It just fits. You look up into the mirror. The reflection looking back is still you. A little more held together. A little more... you-shaped. Samantha's watching without a word now, her usual smirk replaced by something quieter. Pride, maybe. You nod once, almost to yourself. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"This is ''definitely'' the one."@@ <<elseif $d18bra is 1>>\ <<set $braunlock[1] to true>>\ Your eyes move slowly over the small stack of options Riley left on the hooks. But your gaze ends up settling on a simple black bra. It's not dramatic. Not lacy or strappy or trying to be edgy. Just matte black cotton, seamless cups, and clean lines. No shine, no frills. Understated—but certain. You reach for it. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you say, almost to yourself. @@.player;"This one."@@ You lift it carefully, letting the straps fall loose over your hands. The fabric is soft and flexible, the kind that feels like it's been washed a few times even though it's brand new. There's something grounding about it—quietly confident. It doesn't ask for permission to exist. From the bench, Samantha perks up. @@.samantha;"Ooh, going with the black bra. Power move."@@ You glance at her in the mirror. @@.player;"You think?"@@ She leans forward, one leg swinging lazily. @@.samantha;"Oh, absolutely. Black is like, the cool older cousin of mine. Still classic, but with a tiny bit of menace. Like, 'Yeah, I'm wearing a bra, and I might also be plotting something.'"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"I'm not plotting anything."@@ She shrugs. @@.samantha;"Not //yet//. But now you have the //potential//. That's the power of a black bra, my friend."@@ You laugh under your breath, shaking your head, then turn back to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you—shoulders slightly tense, lips pressed together. You shift your weight. The bra still rests in your hands, waiting. @@.player;"I like how it's simple,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Not trying to prove anything."@@ Samantha smiles. @@.samantha;"Exactly. It just sits there and does its job. You've gotta respect that."@@ You nod, then step back from the mirror and take a breath. You slowly pull the bra over your shoulders, adjusting the band behind your back. The fabric is soft where it touches your skin, snug but not squeezing. The straps settle comfortably—no pinching, no slipping. The cups mold gently over what you have there as well. You turn, checking yourself from a few angles. It doesn't flatten you. Doesn't exaggerate either. It just fits. The black fabric lies smooth across your chest, clean lines and quiet intent. You look to Samantha. She gives a little nod, more serious than her usual teasing. @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ she says, arms crossed. @@.samantha;"That's the one."@@ @@.player;"I think I like it,"@@ you admit. @@.samantha;"Good,"@@ she replies. @@.samantha;"Then it's yours."@@ <<elseif $d18bra is 2>>\ <<set $braunlock[2] to true>>\ Your eyes drift over the neat row of bras hanging on hooks. Clean white, classic black... and then—at the end—you spot it. Lavender. Your breath catches, just a little. It's not some flashy, lacy, look-at-me thing. Just a simple bra in that soft shade of purple. The fabric is smooth and matte, with a slightly heathered texture—like a comfy sleep shirt in bra form. The straps are plain, the cups seamless, no bows, no sparkle, nothing trying to be extra. Just lavender. Your fingers brush the fabric, almost without thinking. It's familiar in a strange way—not because you've worn anything like it before, but because the color feels like home. Something you used to scribble with crayons, pick out in art supplies, secretly wish your bedroom had more of. You pick it up gently, turning it over in your hands. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you start slowly, @@.player;"this is the one."@@ Samantha glances over and immediately smirks. @@.samantha;"Of course,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Lavender. Because //obviously//."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.samantha;"$name Yoon, connoisseur of exactly one color since childhood. If it comes in lavender, he will choose it. You could be in a sword shop and still walk out with a lavender katana."@@ You try not to grin, failing entirely. @@.player;"It's a good color."@@ @@.samantha;"It's a commitment, is what it is,"@@ she teases. @@.samantha;"You've been in a lifelong relationship with lavender and you haven't even send it flowers."@@ You turn the bra in your hands again, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. @@.player;"I just like it. Always have. Maybe I always will."@@ Her expression softens—just a little. @@.samantha;"I know."@@ You pull the bra on, the lavender fabric cool and soft against your skin. The band fits snug around your ribs, the straps resting gently on your shoulders. The color makes your skin look softer, somehow. You adjust it slightly, step back, and take yourself in. It looks like it was always supposed to be there. Samantha whistles under her breath. @@.samantha;"Okay, okay. Alright. I can see the vision. That's kinda perfect, I can't lie."@@ You glance at her through the mirror. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ she says, crossing her arms. @@.samantha;"Lavender strikes again."@@ You look back at the mirror, the color framing you like a quiet affirmation. The color doesn't hide you, change you, or explain you. It just fits. <<elseif $d18bra is 3>>\ <<set $braunlock[3] to true>>\ You spot it pretending not to be the most dramatic thing on the table. A lacy black bra. You pick it up slowly, holding it by the straps like you've just discovered something disgusting. The cups are trimmed with floral lace, semi-sheer at the top, soft fabric below. It's the kind of bra you'd expect to see in a moody perfume ad or on a mannequin with opinions about jazz. You blink. @@.player;"Is this... for real?"@@ From the bench, Samantha perks up like a meerkat. @@.samantha;"Oh. You picked //that//?"@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"I didn't say I'm picking it. I just... grabbed it."@@ She leans forward, elbows on her knees, grinning like she's already writing your eulogy. @@.samantha;"That's not a bra, $name. That's a ''statement''. That's the kind of bra that has an ex's name blocked in its phone."@@ You roll your eyes, but your thumb keeps brushing over the lace. It's softer than you expected. Not itchy or stiff—just light, like a whisper. The black is deep and rich, the kind of color that doesn't ask for attention so much as //assume// it. @@.samantha;"You're gonna put that on and instantly start speaking in metaphors,"@@ Samantha continues. @@.samantha;"People will ask you how your day's going and you'll be like, 'The moon was cruel today.' You'd give off Aurora vibes."@@ You laugh despite yourself. @@.player;"It's just a bra."@@ @@.samantha;"No,"@@ she says, completely serious now. @@.samantha;"It's the moment. It's power. It's nighttime elegance. It's... slightly intimidating, and I love that for you."@@ You shake your head, but you're already getting ready to put it on. There's a strange thrill building in your chest—not fear, exactly, but the sense that you're about to cross some invisible line and discover something on the other side. You ease the bra on carefully, adjusting the band behind your back and letting the straps slide into place. The lace lies smooth across your skin, the sheer fabric showing just enough to feel... bold. The underlayer holds just enough—gentle, not rigid. You glance up at the mirror. And freeze. The person staring back looks like they have secrets. Not the kind you hide, but the kind you choose to keep. There's something darkly elegant about the black lace, the contrast against your skin, the way it shifts how you carry yourself without even trying. Samantha lets out a low whistle. @@.samantha;"Welp. I'm intimidated."@@ You smile, slow and a little stunned. @@.player;"It actually fits. Like, //really// fits."@@ @@.samantha;"Of course it does,"@@ she says, leaning back, satisfied. @@.samantha;"That bra didn't pick you. You picked each other."@@ You give her a look. She shrugs. @@.samantha;"Let me have my moment. This is a pivotal coming-of-age moment."@@ You turn back to the mirror, hands resting lightly on your hips. The bra hugs you in a way that feels intentional—not about hiding, or passing, or even survival. It just feels like something //you// chose. And for now, that's more than enough. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d18bra is 0>>\ <<set $braunlock[0] to true>>\ You reach for the white bra. It's the most neutral of the bunch—plain, seamless, and soft. The kind of thing you could wear and forget it's even there. No color to read into or message to send, it's just... safe. And safe feels okay right now. You unclip it and slip it on, the band fitting snugly around your ribs. It's gentle. Light. Not restrictive, just present. You glance at your reflection in the mirror and realize your body feels a little more comfortable, like it finally has permission to settle. There's no dramatic revelation or swelling music, just a soft kind of rightness. You breathe out and roll your shoulders. This, you can handle. <<elseif $d18bra is 1>>\ <<set $braunlock[1] to true>>\ Your fingers hover, then curl around the sleek black one. There's something about it—minimal, structured, and just a little bold. You're not sure what exactly draws you to it, but you want it. You try it on. The fabric hugs your chest firmly, but not uncomfortably. The straps feel solid. Supportive. You look at yourself in the mirror and for a second, you seem more grounded. There's a small shift in your spine, a straighter posture, and a breath that comes easier. You didn't expect this, but here you are. <<elseif $d18bra is 2>>\ <<set $braunlock[2] to true>>\ You hesitate over the lavender one. It's soft. Delicate, but not girly. Calm. You hold it up and it feels like something chosen—not just worn. Almost like it's for you. You slip it on. It fits perfectly—gentle and stretchy, not too tight, not too loose. The color is subtle, but undeniably there. You look in the mirror, expecting to feel awkward. But instead, you feel something close to warmth. It's not about standing out, it's about softening into yourself. <<elseif $d18bra is 3>>\ <<set $braunlock[3] to true>>\ Your eyes land on the lacy one. It's delicate. Floral-patterned. Slightly sheer. Something about it feels like stepping off a ledge and trusting the ground will rise up to catch you. You're not even sure why the hell you reach for it. Maybe it's because it scares you a little. Or maybe because it doesn't. You slip it on slowly. The lace settles across your chest. You face the mirror, expecting to feel ridiculous. But you don't. You actually, somehow, feel pretty. For a moment, you stop bracing against yourself. You just exist. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Bra shopping begone!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 10">><</button>>

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ Maya's back at the register when you approach. Her smile blooms the second she sees the clothes in your arms—like she's genuinely proud of your picks, like she's seen this kind of decision before and knows just how much it means. @@.girl;"Ooh, good choices,"@@ she says, reaching for the items with a practiced ease. She scans them one by one, folding them gently. @@.girl;"You'll pull them off well, I can feel it."@@ You laugh, flush warming your face. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ Samantha leans an elbow on the counter, letting out a loud, fake sigh. @@.samantha;"I just want it known,"@@ she says to Maya, @@.samantha;"that I've officially lost my best friend to the pastel abyss. First it was hairpins. Now it's high-waisted shorts and flowy dresses. Next thing you know, I'm gonna come over and there'll be scented candles, bath bombs, and a Pinterest board."@@ Maya doesn't miss a beat. @@.girl;"Honestly? Sounds like a glow-up to me."@@ @@.samantha;"You are ''not'' helping,"@@ Samantha groans, but she's grinning as she says it. You pull out your phone and tap it against the reader. The soft ding confirms the purchase with a satisfying finality. Maya slides your receipt into the bag and then passes it across the counter. @@.girl;"Thanks for trusting yourself,"@@ she says, quiet now, like it's just between the two of you. @@.girl;"You looked good. I hope it made you feel good too."@@ You meet her eyes, and you don't need to say anything. You just nod. Then you're heading toward the door, Samantha trailing behind you with the most dramatic limp you've ever seen. @@.samantha;"Do you feel that?"@@ she says as you push open the door. @@.samantha;"The tragedy? The betrayal? The estrogen in the air?"@@ You laugh. Samantha walks a few paces ahead, then spins around to face you. @@.samantha;"$name, just yesterday, you were a humble peasant in cargo shorts and a T-shirt. Today? A goddess in linen. I hope you're proud of yourself."@@ @@.player;"I kind of am,"@@ you admit, smiling without trying to hide it. She groans. @@.samantha;"Ugh! Stop glowing! You're like a coming-of-age movie and a skincare commercial had a baby!"@@ @@.player;"Should I be offended or flattered?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ she says. You keep going and you feel lighter, not just because of the bag swinging at your side, but because of something else entirely. Something that feels like permission. Like maybe, just maybe, you're starting to let yourself be exactly who you are. <<else>>\ You walk up to the counter with the clothes in your arms, the folded items inside feeling heavier than they should. They're not even that flashy—just a couple of things, nothing major—but now they feel like they're glowing in the bag, practically announcing themselves. Maya looks up from the register with a mellow smile and reaches for your bag. @@.girl;"All set?"@@ she asks. You nod, tight-lipped. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ She doesn't push, just scans the items quickly. @@.girl;"These are cute picks. Nice touch of colors."@@ You force a little smile, the kind that doesn't quite reach your eyes. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ Maya slides the receipt into a bag and hands it back to you. @@.girl;"Hope they treat you well,"@@ she says kindly. @@.girl;"And thanks for stopping by."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"You too."@@ You turn, clutching the bag a little too tight, and head for the exit. Samantha falls in step beside you immediately, no hesitation. Neither of you speaks at first. The bright hum of Blink + Shine fades as the door swings shut behind you, replaced with the colder, wider air of the mall corridor. The peach scent and soft lighting give way to the polished tile and overhead fluorescents. You don't really look at her, just keep walking, your grip still fixed on the handle of the bag like it might fly off if you let go. Samantha nudges your shoulder lightly. @@.samantha;"Hey. You good?"@@ You don't answer right away. Then, with a sigh, you mutter, @@.player;"I don't know. I just... it felt dumb. All of it."@@ Samantha scoffs—not at you, but more like at the whole situation. @@.samantha;"Dude. You tried on a dress and didn't explode. That's a win."@@ You crack the barest smirk. @@.player;"It didn't really //feel// like a win."@@ @@.samantha;"No one said it had to, $name,"@@ she shrugs. @@.samantha;"I mean, not everything you try on has to be some big life-altering moment. Sometimes it's just, 'Well, that sucked,' and then you move on."@@ You glance at her, eyebrow raised. @@.player;"Is that the official fashion philosophy of Samantha Rivera?"@@ She places a hand dramatically over her chest. @@.samantha;"One hundred percent. Sometimes fashion is self-discovery. Sometimes it's a near-death experience involving blush shorts. Both are valid."@@ That actually gets a real laugh out of you—short and quiet, but real. You exhale and let your shoulders drop a bit. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"For, you know. Not making it worse."@@ Samantha bumps your elbow gently. @@.samantha;"Hey, I'm your best friend. If anyone gets to make fun of you, it's me. But also, like... not when you look like you've just fought in an emotional gladiator pit."@@ You shake your head, the corners of your mouth twitching despite yourself. @@.player;"It's not //that// dramatic."@@ She points at your expression. @@.samantha;"That face says otherwise."@@ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you relent. @@.player;"Maybe a little dramatic."@@ @@.samantha;"There we go."@@ You walk in silence for a few more moments, the bag swinging lightly at your side. Samantha glances over and says, a little quieter, @@.samantha;"You don't have to figure it all out today, y'know. It's okay if it didn't feel right."@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"I know."@@ @@.samantha;"You're not broken or weird,"@@ she adds. @@.samantha;"Just... figuring stuff out."@@ You swallow the lump in your throat, surprised by how much you needed to hear that. Even though you're still not sure what you're doing, even though you feel weird and off and embarrassed by how everything turned out, you also feel a little less alone. Samantha walks beside you, like she always does. And for now, that's enough. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><</button>>

<<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<set $hairaccessory to $currenthairaccessory>>\ <<set $hairStyle to $currenthairstyle>>\ You stand in front of the accessory mirror, the lavender hairpin resting between your fingers like it weighs more than it should. It doesn't, of course—it's barely a whisper in your grip. But your hand hesitates anyway, hovering just above your head, like you're waiting to be given permission. You don't get any. So you breathe in, tilt your head, and snap the pin into place. The change is small—subtle enough you're not even sure it's visible. But it does something to your silhouette in the mirror. Softens it. Shifts it just enough that you pause, unsure what you're seeing. It's not better or worse, just... different. Behind you, Samantha lets out a long, theatrical groan. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she says, flinging her arms out like she's been hit by wave of invisible glitter. @@.samantha;"It's over. You've crossed into the sparkle realm. I've lost my best friend."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"It's one hairpin, Sam."@@ @@.samantha;"One lavender hairpin,"@@ she corrects, voice climbing half an octave in mock horror. @@.samantha;"That's the gateway drug, $name. Next thing you know, you're wearing flower crowns and watching makeup tutorials at 2 a.m."@@ You snort. @@.player;"You literally wore glitter eyeliner to the school dance once."@@ @@.samantha;"That was different,"@@ she says, tossing her head. @@.samantha;"That was battle armor. And besides, I balanced it out with ripped jeans and, like, combat boots."@@ You turn toward the little display beside the mirror. Four types of lavender hair ties sit in a tray: a plain elastic, a soft ribbon, one with floppy bunny ears, and a plush scrunchie. You reach out, gently poking at them one by one. Samantha leans down to inspect the display like she's evaluating evidence at a crime scene. @@.samantha;"You planning to put your hair up with one of those?"@@ she asks. @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you say, because you honestly don't know. She makes a noise like a dying cat. @@.samantha;"Ugh. Long hair. Why would you //want// that kind of responsibility?"@@ <<if $hairProg is 3>>\ @@.player;"I already have long hair,"@@ you remind her. @@.samantha;"Yeah, and I've been meaning to stage an intervention,"@@ she shoots back. @@.samantha;"You know how easy it is to live your life when you don't wake up with a tangled bird's nest on your head? You just //exist//. You just //vibe//. You throw on a beanie and call it fashion."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"You wear the same beanie like every day."@@ @@.samantha;"Its called a signature look,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Learn some culture."@@ <<elseif $hairProg is 2>>\ @@.player;"I don't have long hair,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's like... medium."@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"Medium is just long that's pretending it's still low-maintenance. That stuff tangles if you breathe wrong."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"I do brush it, you know."@@ @@.samantha;"Barely,"@@ she fires back. @@.samantha;"You need a whole hair care routine and a support group just to make that length work."@@ @@.player;"You literally wear a beanie."@@ @@.samantha;"It's called having a brand,"@@ she says, flicking her fingers. @@.samantha;"Try to keep up."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I don't //need// hair ties,"@@ you point out, brushing your hand over your head. @@.player;"It's already short."@@ Samantha gives you a dry look. @@.samantha;"Yeah, but //you// look like you keep it short for convenience. I keep mine short for the aesthetic. Huge difference."@@ You snort. @@.player;"You're in a graphic tee and a beanie right now."@@ @@.samantha;"And still somehow serving,"@@ she says, striking a dramatic pose. @@.samantha;"Minimal effort, maximum style. Meanwhile, you're out here debating hair accessories like it's a moral crisis."@@ @@.player;"Maybe I'm just evolving,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.samantha;"Then evolve faster,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Your final form better be iconic."@@ <</if>>\ You reach down and pick up the bunny ears hair tie. You twirl it between your fingers, letting it dangle. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"It //is// kind of cute."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, well,"@@ she mutters, glancing off to the side. @@.samantha;"It's not like anyone else should get to tell you what to wear, right?"@@ You blink at her. @@.samantha;"What?"@@ she snaps, a little too quickly. @@.samantha;"I can be supportive."@@ @@.player;"Sure,"@@ you say, still spinning the ribbon slowly. @@.samantha;"Just don't expect me to get matching ones,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"My hair tie phase died in elementary school."@@ You grin. @@.player;"So you had a phase?"@@ @@.samantha;"No comment."@@ You turn back to the mirror, the ribbon still in your hand, the lavender pin glinting faintly in your hair. The shop's lighting is soft here—almost too gentle compared to the rest of the mall. There's no pressure to do anything. But there //is// an invitation. And for once, you think you might say yes. <<button "Time to buy!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Blink + Shine 4">><</button>>

You turn the little accessory over in your hands one last time—simple, small, yet somehow enough to shift something internal. Like a nudge toward a version of yourself that's been hovering just out of reach. Samantha lingers a few steps behind as you quietly head toward the counter. She doesn't say anything at first, just trails behind with her hands stuffed into her pockets like she's forced to be here. Which, to be fair, she kind of is. You place your choices on the counter. Whatever they are, they feel like the right ones. The sales associate, Maya, appears with a practiced ease, her bracelets giving a soft clatter as she starts scanning your items. Samantha peeks over your shoulder. Her eyes flick to the counter, then to you. @@.samantha;"Wow,"@@ she says flatly. @@.samantha;"Look at you, $name. Joining the ranks of the accessorized."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Is that your official review?"@@ @@.samantha;"Hey, I'm impressed,"@@ she says, folding her arms. @@.samantha;"It's nice."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Thanks?"@@ @@.samantha;"Don't let it go to your head,"@@ she adds, grinning. @@.samantha;"Next thing I know, you'll be dragging me into a store full of pastel crop tops and high heels, and that's where I draw the line."@@ Maya hands you a little branded bag with your receipt tucked neatly inside. @@.girl;"These'll look great,"@@ she says warmly. @@.girl;"Sometimes small changes do the most."@@ You nod, your fingers curling around the handle. The bag crinkles softly, light in your hand—but heavier in meaning. Samantha glances at it like it might combust. @@.samantha;"You realize this is the most feminine bag you've ever carried, right?"@@ You look down at it. @@.player;"It's paper."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah. But it //feels// like glitter,"@@ she deadpans. @@.samantha;"You carry that out of here and there's no going back."@@ @@.player;"Then I guess I'm committed."@@ She throws an arm around your shoulder in exaggerated mock support. @@.samantha;"Godspeed, soldier. May your hair clips be strong and your inner doubt minimal."@@ You scoff, rolling your eyes, but you don't shrug her off. Her arm's warm and familiar, and for all her dramatic flair, there's a sincerity under it that you don't miss. Samantha tilts her head toward the rest of the store. Racks of soft cardigans, flowing skirts, cardigans, and carefully color-blocked displays stretch out in curated rows. Somewhere near the back, a mannequin in a cute jacket and glittery shorts is posed mid-twirl like she's living her best life. @@.samantha;"So,"@@ she says, drawing the word out like she's narrating a reality show. @@.samantha;"Is this the part where you power-walk out with your dignity intact, or..."@@—she gestures vaguely toward the racks—@@.samantha;"do we see what fashion crimes await beyond the accessories zone?"@@ You follow her gaze. The rest of the store suddenly feels like a different planet. The accessories wall was one thing—small, safe, optional. Clothing, though? That's bigger. You feel the weight of the moment press just a little. Samantha senses it, of course. She smirks and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. @@.samantha;"No judgment either way. I mean, if I tried any of this stuff on, I'd combust. You've seen what I wear. If it doesn't pair with a hoodie and sneakers, I don't even look at it."@@ You glance at the delicate fabrics and soft lighting again. There's a pull. A curiosity. Maybe even a spark of something more. But there's also the safety of the exit, just a few steps behind you—an escape hatch you could still take. Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"So what's it gonna be?"@@ You look from the racks to the exit, and the choice sits there, waiting. <<button "Go to the clothing section" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Blink + Shine 6">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine2 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine2" "Go to the clothing section" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide to leave the store" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Blink + Shine 6">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine2 to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine2" "Decide to leave the store" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18stayblinkshine2 is true>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ You hesitate for a beat, your eyes flicking toward the exit—toward safety, toward certainty, toward a version of yourself that didn't just buy hair accessories from a peace-scented boutique. But your hand tightens around the little shopping bag, fingers curling around the edge. And when you lift your chin, it's with just enough to surprise even yourself. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, voice quiet but clear. @@.player;"Sure. I'll take a look."@@ Samantha lets out a low whistle, dragging her beanie down just a little over her forehead. @@.samantha;"Oh damn,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"I was 80% sure you were gonna nope out. Respect."@@ You shrug, but there's a crooked smile on your face that gives you away. @@.player;"Guess I'm full of surprises."@@ Maya reappears from seemingly nowhere, like a stylish fairy godmother who works on commission. She beams, clearly pleased, and gestures with a hanger. @@.girl;"This way,"@@ she says, already guiding you deeper into the store. Samantha falls into step beside you, casting a wary glance around the racks like one of them might try to convert her into a girly girl on the spot. @@.samantha;"If one of these mannequins winks at me, I'm burning this place down,"@@ she mutters. Maya leads you into a section lit just a little warmer than the rest, where each piece hangs with a certain amount of dignity. Not crowded, not shoved together—like the clothes are being patient. Like they're waiting for someone to notice them. @@.girl;"You see, we don't really //do// fast fashion,"@@ Maya explains, pausing to smooth out the hem of a skirt. @@.girl;"Everything's selected in small batches. If it's here, it's supposed to be here."@@ You nod and scan the selection: a cream apron-style dress that whispers vintage, pleated skirts, blush pink shorts that catch the light, a denim skirt, and more. Each item feels like it's been invited here on purpose. Samantha squints at the shorts. @@.samantha;"Yo, those are shiny. You try those on, you better commit to the aesthetic. Like, bare minimum you'll need a latte."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Samantha."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm just saying,"@@ she says, holding up the pleated skirt with two fingers like it might bite her. @@.samantha;"This stuff's like... fairycore. Do you get what I mean? If you come out in one of these and start talking about moon rituals, I'm leaving you here."@@ You roll your eyes, but your grip on the bag softens. Somehow, her sarcasm makes it easier. She's not judging you. She's just narrating the weirdness of it all like your reliable chaos translator. At the edge of the section, Maya hooks a few pieces onto a hangar and offers them to you. @@.girl;"Fitting rooms are just over there,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Take your time."@@ You glance over. The fitting area is cozy, even having a little bench and mirror. Samantha crosses her arms and leans against a rack of pants, clearly not planning to move. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Moment of truth. Show me your final form."@@ @@.player;"What if I come out in a full dress?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. She considers it for a few seconds. @@.samantha;"Depends,"@@ she says, finally. @@.samantha;"Do you spin dramatically? Because that would //definitely// earn bonus points."@@ Maya chuckles as she walks off, giving you space. @@.girl;"I'll be at the front if you need sizes,"@@ she calls over her shoulder. You breathe in and put one foot in front of the other. The door is right there, and now it's all up to you. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ There may be issues with clipping and certain assets not fitting. Please understand! </div>\ <<button "Try some stuff on" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Blink + Shine 7">><</button>> <<else>>\ You take one last glance at the rows of feminine clothing—not harshly, just enough to make it real. @@.player;"Not today,"@@ you murmur. @@.samantha;"Bold choice,"@@ she says, grinning. @@.samantha;"Live to fight another day, huh?"@@ Maya, still behind the counter, doesn't miss a beat. She offers a warm smile, not the retail kind, but the real one. @@.girl;"Totally fair,"@@ she says easily. @@.girl;"Trying things on should be at your own pace. Come back whenever. We've always got something new on rotation."@@ You nod in response. You and Samantha step out out the store, and the scent of peach and perfume fades into the natural mall air, replaced by the faint whir of escalators and some distant pop remix playing from a speaker. Blink + Shine's pink-and-gold signage stays lit behind you like it's gently judging your life choices. Samantha gives the storefront a theatrical, dramatic glance over her shoulder. @@.samantha;"Goodbye, sweet princess boutique,"@@ she intones in a fake-tearful voice. @@.samantha;"He wasn't ready for your cute skirts."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Do you hear yourself when you talk?"@@ @@.samantha;"Unfortunately, yes,"@@ she replies brightly. @@.samantha;"It's a burden I bear with style."@@ You shake your head, but there's a smile tugging at your mouth as the two of you merge back into the steady flow of shoppers. And even though you didn't try on any clothes, you feel like you made the right call. At least for today. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $outfit to $tempoutfit>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You hear the door's soft //click// as it closes behind you, sealing you into a hushed little world of your own. Inside the dim fitting room, everything feels gentler—like someone paused the noise outside just for this moment. On the bench lies your selection: a clean white tank top, an oversized soft sweater, and a cute blue skirt. There are a few other pieces still on their hangers—they send a flutter of anticipation through your chest. You sit down, your hand lingering over the sweater, feeling its weight and texture. It hums with possibility. You begin changing deliberately—the tank top slides on easily, snug but soft. The sweater settles itself just right on your shoulders. You slip into the skirt, and something settles in your chest—a careful calm that feels... correct. You step toward the mirror and freeze for a moment. It's not unease—it's wonder. The reflection isn't someone else. It's //you//, clearer and more honest than ever. Like static faded, and a deeper melody emerged. You do a little spin, enough to let the skirt flutter around your legs, and laugh—light and surprised. Your hands smooth the front, then adjust the folds, then smooth again. Not from doubt, but because you ''like'' this feeling. So much that your breath warms and settles in your ribs. Beautiful. You realize the word fits you now. You can't help but smile. Not the nervous, halfway kind you've been doing a lot lately. This one is quiet but whole. You stay like that for a second longer than necessary. Just... looking. Then, slowly, you change back. As you fold the clothes you won't be buying and hang the ones you will back on your arm, your fingers tremble slightly—not with uncertainty, but with something close to joy. You open the door. Samantha is leaning against the wall just outside like she's been waiting for hours instead of minutes. She looks up as the door creaks open and takes you in with one quick glance. @@.samantha;"So?"@@ she asks, scanning your face. @@.samantha;"What happened in there? Did you find inner peace? Transcend gender? Join a cottagecore cult?"@@ You just smile. It must say everything, because her eyebrows shoot up. @@.samantha;"Oh no,"@@ she mutters, backing up a step in genuine horror. @@.samantha;"No. Nooo. I've lost him. He's gone. My best friend—stolen by ruffles and soft lighting."@@ You're already walking past her, the pile of clothes in your arms, but she follows, throwing an arm over her eyes like a widow in mourning. @@.samantha;"I'm gonna have to learn how to braid hair. I'm gonna have to start talking about skincare routines. I'm gonna have to buy a second beanie just to emotionally cope with this devastating news—"@@ You laugh, actually laugh, and she stops mid-lament to grin. @@.samantha;"Was it worth it, though?"@@ You nod once. @@.player;"Yeah. Really worth it."@@ She sighs dramatically. @@.samantha;"I knew it. Girlypop wins again."@@ Then she nudges you toward the counter. @@.samantha;"Go on, Princess. Let's seal your fate."@@ <<else>>\ You push the fitting room door closed behind you—it clicks shut, cutting out Blink + Shine's gentle bubblegum pop. Here, under the harsh fitting-room lights, it's just you and the clothes. You glance down at what you're about to try on, resting neatly on the bench: a white tank top, an oversized sweater, a cute blue skirt—and a few other things that make your heart race. They //should// be safe and unthreatening. They're just pieces of fabric, after all. But as you pull on the tank top, you feel a familiar tension anchor in your chest—the question: Is this really you? You catch your reflection as the fabric settles on your shoulder, heart twisting slightly. The clothes fit—shoulder seams sit right, the cut flatters, the fabric flows. You're not hiding in them. But there's still //distance// between you and the person in the mirror. You stand straighter, arms folding across your chest like armor. Try your best to mimic confidence. Tilt your chin. Exhale. But every pose feels rehearsed. Distant. And inside, the question still churns: "What am I even doing?" You switch to another skirt. Tug it on, smooth the fabric over your waist and hips, step back. It looks... fine. But still wrong. Wrong enough to make your throat tighten. There's no panic, no disgust. Just a slow, hollow well of disappointment. You really wanted this to work—and you tried it. But that doesn't make it click. You strip the clothes off carefully, fold each one back just how they were, neat and patient on the bench. Then you slide into your familiar top. It doesn't feel incredible—it just feels ''right''. Unremarkable, but you. That's enough. You pull open the door and step out. Samantha is leaning against the wall just outside like she's been waiting for hours instead of minutes. She looks up as the door creaks open and takes you in with one quick glance. You're back in the clothes you were in before you entered. Her eyes skim over your face, reading the answer before you even say a word. @@.samantha;"Did the pink shorts betray you?"@@ she asks, her tone light, but her brow is creased just slightly. You shake your head. @@.player;"More like I betrayed myself."@@ She stands up straight with a little grunt, brushing off her jeans. @@.samantha;"Hey. You tried. That's more than most people do."@@ Then, after a few seconds, @@.samantha;"And yeah, okay, I've got to admit those shorts were pretty cursed."@@ You snort, a bit of the tension easing. Samantha gives you a look. @@.samantha;"Want to get something good once we head out? Escape the pastel vortex before it swallows your soul."@@ You nod, grateful. And as she slings an arm around your shoulder and steers you toward the front of the store, she doesn't say anything more about the fitting room. Doesn't push. Just walks with you, like it was all just another weird little side quest. And honestly? You're glad she does. <</if>>\ <<button "Time to purchase" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Blink + Shine 9">><</button>>

<<set $temp2 to true>>\ As you step into Blink + Shine, it's like crossing an invisible border into a parallel dimension—one where everything is soft, glowy, and smells faintly like peach gummies. The lighting is gentle and warm, like its designed to make you feel pretty just for existing. Even the floor seems to muffle your footsteps, like the store is trying not to startle you. Everywhere you look, there are racks of neatly spaced chiffon blouses, high-waisted trousers in pastel shades, ruffled skirts, and gauzy cardigans. Samantha comes to a halt two steps behind you, arms crossed, jaw already tense. @@.samantha;"What is this place?"@@ she says flatly. You glance back at her. @@.samantha;"No, seriously? Is this a dream? Did we die? Did we walk into a marshmallow-themed afterlife?"@@ Her eyes flick across the boutique, settling warily on a display of hairbands arranged like macarons. @@.samantha;"There's not a single hoodie in sight. That's a bad sign."@@ The two of you linger just inside the entrance for a beat, your ears adjusting to the soft ambient music. @@.player;"Well, I think it's kind of nice,"@@ you offer, looking around. Samantha gives you a skeptical look, then turns back to the clothes. @@.samantha;"Nice if you're into floaty pants and shirts that look like you cry during poetry readings."@@ You gesture to a nearby rack of button-downs. @@.player;"Maybe you just have to look a little harder."@@ @@.samantha;"I'd have to tear the store apart to find something in here I'd wear."@@ Her tone isn't cruel, just tired. @@.samantha;"Like, no offense, but half of this stuff looks like it'd fall apart if you made eye contact with it too aggressively."@@ You smother a laugh. Samantha moves forward anyway, slow and cautious, like she's waiting for a wall of floral perfume to slam into her. Her hands stay stuffed into her pockets as she sidesteps a display of color-coordinated ballet flats. A soft, glittery shimmer catches your eye from across the boutique. There's an entire wall of accessories near the back, glowing faintly under the lighting. @@.player;"I might just check out the accessory wall,"@@ you say, already starting in that direction. Samantha sighs like she's being forced into a rom-com makeover montage. @@.samantha;"You do that, $name. I'll... stand here and pretend I'm girly enough for this store."@@ You glance over your shoulder. @@.player;"You don't have to come with me."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, I'm coming. Someone has to supervise you, after all. I promised to help you shop, I'm following through with it."@@ The two of you inch closer toward the accessories section. Samantha keeps her arms crossed tightly, like if she relaxes even a little, the store will convert her into someone who wears skirts and blouses. @@.samantha;"I swear to God, if anything in this corner tries to sparkle at me, I'm leaving you here to fend for yourself,"@@ Samantha mutters. You crack a grin, but your eyes linger on the accessory wall. Maybe you'll go take a look. Or maybe you won't. <<button "Head toward the accessories" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Blink + Shine 1">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine" "Head toward the accessories" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide to leave the store" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Blink + Shine 1">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine" "Decide to leave the store" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> ''NovaTrend'' is sleek and filled with plants, like a fashion blog brought to life. There are soft earth tones, cropped jackets, and baggy pants. Every display seems effortless yet curated. ''ShatterBox'' has dark walls, racks of fishnets, studded belts, combat boots, and merchandise from bands you don't even recognize. Mesh sleeves and eyeliner are practically required. ''Blink + Shine'' is so sparkly it's practically vibrating. Hair clips, lip gloss, and enamel pins shaped like raccoons are on display. ''Threadz'' is wall-to-wall graphic tees, oversized hoodies, and anime designs. It smells faintly like body spray and rebellion. ''StepUp Footwear'', a staple of the Crestview Bay mall, has so many shoes it nearly makes you dizzy. ''Cuddle Creations'' is a store that has just about every plushie you can imagine. <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<if $temp is false>>\ <<button "Head to NovaTrend" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha NovaTrend">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp1 is false>>\ <<button "Head to ShatterBox" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha ShatterBox">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp2 is false>>\ <<button "Head to Blink + Shine" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Blink + Shine">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp3 is false>>\ <<button "Head to Threadz" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Threadz">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp4 is false>>\ <<button "Head to StepUp Footwear" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha StepUp">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp5 is false>>\ <<button "Head to Cuddle Creations" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Cuddle Creations">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Head to the changing rooms" "Closet">><</button>> <<if $temp is true and $temp1 is true and $temp2 is true and $temp3 is true and $temp4 is true and $temp5>>\ <<button "Shopping done!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 12">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d18samanthaplushieq is 0>>\ You give the plush in your hands another light squeeze, then glance over at Samantha. She's still standing in front of a display, a chubby bat in one hand and a plush slice of cake in the other, eyebrows drawn together like she's genuinely weighing their merits. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, voice a little quieter. @@.player;"Did you, uh... have a favorite plush when you were little?"@@ She looks up instantly, blinking like the question caught her off guard. The bat and the cake both get lowered, then dropped gently back into their cubbies. @@.samantha;"Oh God,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"We're doing feelings."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"You don't have to answer if it's that traumatic."@@ @@.samantha;"No, no, I'm good,"@@ she says, waving it off. @@.samantha;"Just, like, give me a second to reach back into the archives. You're asking me to access the emotional vault and dust off the cobwebs."@@ She wanders a few steps toward you, pretending to stretch her neck like she's cracking it for a serious memory dive. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ she says after a second. @@.samantha;"Her name was Celery."@@ @@.player;"...Celery."@@ @@.samantha;"She was a rabbit,"@@ Samantha says, nodding solemnly. @@.samantha;"Off-white. Possibly started out white, but childhood is messy. Had this little pink ribbon around her neck and one floppy ear. Not, like, designed to be floppy. One of them just... gave up."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"That's actually kind of cute."@@ @@.samantha;"I carried her around everywhere until she got so ragged that my mom tried to replace her with a //new// Celery,"@@ Samantha says, wrinkling her nose. @@.samantha;"But I was like, 'Nice try, I'm six, not stupid. This imposter has two functional ears and doesn't smell like me."@@ @@.player;"So?"@@ you ask, grinning. @@.player;"What happened to her?"@@ Samantha shrugs, picking at the edge of a nearby display shelf. @@.samantha;"I think she's still somewhere in my room. In the closet, maybe. I don't know. Haven't seen her in years."@@ There's a flicker of something in her expression then—softness, maybe even a little ache. But she smothers it fast and replaces it with a half-smile. @@.samantha;"Anyway,"@@ she says, clapping her hands together once, @@.samantha;"emotional tangent complete. Now it's your turn. What about you? Did you have some big-eared gremlin you carted around and traumatized?"@@ You hesitate for a second. But before you can answer, she squints at the plush you're holding and adds, @@.samantha;"Actually, don't tell me. Let me guess. You probably had something ridiculous. Like a dignified dinosaur in a bow tie."@@ You shake your head, but you're smiling. Around you, the soft music continues, the warm light spilling through pastel displays like it's always been waiting for this exact moment. And for just a little while longer, it's okay to talk about childhood things. To imagine what it would be like to give one of these plushies a name, a place on your bed, a small piece of your attention—like you're giving something quiet and sweet back to yourself. <<elseif $d18samanthaplushieq is 1>>\ You turn the plush over in your hands again, then glance sideways at Samantha. She's crouched beside another display, poking a stuffed jellyfish in the eye like it's personally offended her. You clear your throat. @@.player;"Okay, so... which one of these looks the most like me?"@@ Samantha pauses, mid-poke, and slowly turns to look at you. Her eyes narrow—not in judgment, but in theatrical calculation. @@.samantha;"Huh,"@@ she says, drawing the sound out. @@.samantha;"Dangerous question."@@ @@.player;"Why?"@@ @@.samantha;"Because I could be honest,"@@ she says, standing up and brushing imaginary lint off her shirt. @@.samantha;"Or I could be ''mean''. And you're giving me the power."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"I'll risk it."@@ She crosses her arms, scanning the shelves around you both like a detective studying a crime scene. @@.samantha;"Let's see..."@@ First, she grabs a round, smug-looking blobfish. She holds it up to your face, then makes a face of her own. @@.samantha;"Too jaded. This guy looks like he's been through three divorces and a midlife crisis."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Thanks for sparing my feelings."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm eliminating options, genius,"@@ she states, dropping the blobfish. Then she lifts a tiny, grumpy-looking owl wearing a knit scarf and glasses. @@.samantha;"This one's tempting. You've got the whole secretly-wise, overthinking vibe. But he's blonde. You don't get to be the wise owl and have black hair. That's cheating."@@ You're about to argue when she drops it back onto the shelf. She keeps moving down the row, eyes flicking over the bears and otters and things with so many sequins they might qualify as weapons. Then she freezes. @@.samantha;"Oh,"@@ she says, crouching again. @@.samantha;"Oh no. It's this guy."@@ You follow her gaze. Nestled in the lower row of the shelf is a small plush—shaped a bit like a dumpling with legs. It's some kind of soft, fluffed-up animal—vaguely rabbit-like, but rounder. Its fur is a warm gray with a white belly, and it has short, stubby ears that flop downward in a tired sort of way. The eyes are wide and soft brown, framed by slightly raised stitching that makes it look perpetually unsure of itself. But there's something sincere in its expression, like it's trying //really hard// to seem fine. Samantha lifts it carefully, turning it in her hands. @@.samantha;"Look at him,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"The face says 'please don't perceive me,' and the body says 'I forgot how to sit like a normal person.'"@@ You squint. @@.player;"That's supposed to be me?"@@ She grins. @@.samantha;"Yup. This little guy has protagonist energy, just like you. Look at that posture. That's someone who makes their own trauma worse by overthinking it."@@ You blink. @@.player;"...Fair."@@ She holds the plush up beside your face for comparison. @@.samantha;"It's uncanny."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"That's harsh."@@ @@.samantha;"He's not ugly!"@@ she says, squeezing the plushie gently. @@.samantha;"It's very you. Quiet and weirdly sincere."@@ You look at the plush again, and this time, you can kind of see it. It's not flashy or edgy, it's just... gentle. A little round, a little confused, but there's a quiet sort of warmth to it. Like it's trying to be kind in a world that doesn't always make room for that. Samantha lowers her voice. @@.samantha;"He looks like he's still figuring stuff out. But like... he'll get there."@@ You don't say anything right away. She notices. @@.samantha;"Sorry. Did I go too deep?"@@ You shake your head, still staring at the little plush in her hands. @@.player;"No. I think you nailed it."@@ <<elseif $d18samanthaplushieq is 2>>\ You squint at the display in front of you, a forest of round bellies and stitched smiles and suspiciously shiny button eyes. A plush stingray stares back at you from the shelf like it knows all your secrets. You lean in, then mutter, @@.player;"Some of these are way too cute. It feels illegal."@@ Samantha, who's been off to the side poking what appears to be a loaf-shaped octopus, turns immediately. @@.samantha;"Right?"@@ she says, throwing both hands up. @@.samantha;"Like, if a middle-aged man walked out of here with three of these and no kids in sight, I'd be like, 'Sir, this is emotional smuggling.'"@@ You laugh. @@.player;"There's //definitely// something shady going on in this section."@@ @@.samantha;"Look at this one."@@ She grabs what looks like a raccoon but fluffier—its face smooshed into permanent wide-eyed alarm, its tiny paws stitched into a praying position. @@.samantha;"This guy definitely just saw his own price tag."@@ You glance at the tag @@.player;"Twenty bucks."@@ She recoils like it burned her. @@.samantha;"He better come with a pension plan."@@ You pick up a pink creature you can't quite identify. It has antlers, wings, and what might be hooves. @@.player;"What do you think this one is?"@@ She peers over. @@.samantha;"A myth. A lie. A marketing department gone rogue."@@ Then, after a beat: @@.samantha;"Also, adorable. I hate it."@@ @@.player;"Why do I suddenly want to protect it with my life?"@@ @@.samantha;"Because you've been emotionally compromised,"@@ Samantha says gravely. @@.samantha;"This store is weaponized. It preys on your childhood neglect and softens you up with beady eyes and pastel fur. It's biological warfare."@@ You eye a shelf where a gang of frogs in tiny hoodies are sitting side by side, all in slightly different shades of green. @@.player;"Do you think they talk to each other at night?"@@ @@.samantha;"I think they unionized,"@@ she replies. @@.samantha;"Which is why we're only allowed to buy one."@@ You pick up a chubby penguin wearing earmuffs. It's got a little embroidered snowflake on its belly and a scarf so soft it makes you pause. @@.player;"Okay, but what if I actually got one?"@@ Samantha shrugs, not missing a beat. @@.samantha;"Then I'm buying it a tiny crib and giving it your last name. We're co-parenting now."@@ You laugh again, and it echoes lightly off the display shelves. Around you, the store hums with soft music and distant chatter—low enough to feel private, like this plushie zoo is its own little world. You catch yourself smiling and shake your head. @@.player;"This is ridiculous."@@ @@.samantha;"Totally,"@@ Samantha agrees. Then she leans in, whispering conspiratorially: @@.samantha;"So... which one are you adopting?"@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Pick a plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Cuddle Creations 2">><</button>>

<<set $textbox to true>>\ <<if $d18plushchoice is false>>\ <<set $textbox to false>>\ You hold the bee in your hands a second longer than you mean to. It's soft in that perfect, squishy way—firm enough to hug back, but yielding like it's already memorized the shape of your arms. Its stitched little eyes are slightly uneven, one antenna bent just a bit more than the other. It looks up at you like it's waiting. Like it knows it might be chosen. Like it's ready to go home with you and never ask why it took this long. You run your thumb along its plush belly once. Twice. Then set it down. Carefully. Like you're apologizing. Samantha catches the motion. You don't even need to look at her to feel the shift in her expression. @@.samantha;"You're really not getting one?"@@ she asks. Not teasing. Not mocking. Just... checking. You shake your head. Try to keep it casual. @@.player;"I don't need it."@@ The words sound too final, even as you say them. They land like a door clicking shut. @@.samantha;"Right,"@@ Samantha says slowly. @@.samantha;"Not a need. Just a dumb little round bee that wanted to come home with you."@@ You laugh under your breath, but it's the brittle kind. @@.player;"I mean, it's not like I'm five."@@ @@.samantha;"No,"@@ she agrees. @@.samantha;"You're not. Which is exactly why you should be allowed to buy a plushie without acting like you need to justify it in front of Congress."@@ You glance back once. The bee is still there—slumped a little to the side, wings folded like it got tired waiting. One of the sunflowers beside it leans just enough to cast a soft shadow across its face. It shouldn't feel like rejection. It shouldn't feel like anything. But it does. And it's not just the bee. You pass the goat again—the one with the off-kilter grin and tiny felt hooves that looked like it belonged in detention for crimes committed against homework and table legs. It was still sitting exactly where you left it. Like it didn't move. Like it didn't hope. The meerkat, too—long-limbed and nervy, face frozen in that perfect anxiety-ridden panic. It looked like it wanted to whisper something to you. Something quiet. Something like, "Take me with you. Please. Just me." And you left them all behind. You look down at your empty hands. Your chest feels a little too hollow for how crowded the store is. Samantha moves to your side, arms crossed loosely, but there's no smirk on her face this time. @@.samantha;"You know, you've had to carry a lot lately,"@@ she says, softer now. @@.samantha;"Like, actual stuff. Emotional junk. Body changes. Existential weirdness. You've been juggling identity like it's part of your class schedule."@@ She nudges your arm lightly. @@.samantha;"You could've let a cute plushie carry one percent of that. Maybe just for tonight."@@ You don't respond. Because you know she's right. And also because it's already too late. You're already turning, already walking toward the exit. Already letting the soft warm air of Cuddle Creations fall behind you like a missed opportunity. Your hands are empty, and that hurts. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 0>>\ <<set $goatplush to true>>\ <<set $goatplushieName = "Bartholomew">>\ You cradle the goat plushie in your arms, his stubby little hooves resting against your top like it's making itself at home. He's soft in the way old blankets are soft—slightly worn, warm in places he shouldn't be, and kind of judgmental. His lopsided grin stares up at you with unapologetic smugness. Like he knows he's getting adopted and thinks it's about time. The felt horns curve unevenly on his head, and one of his ears flops out stubbornly, as if refusing to participate in society. You squeeze it lightly, and something in your chest settles. It's not even a question. He's coming with you. Samantha steps up beside you, tilting her head at the goat. @@.samantha;"Oh good. You found the one that looks like he's got unpaid parking tickets and no regrets."@@ You glance down. @@.player;"He's got strong 'public nuisance' energy."@@ @@.samantha;"$name, he looks like he owns a trench coat and sells bad prophecies behind the mall dumpsters,"@@ she continues, arms crossed. @@.samantha;"Like one of those goats who tell you your destiny for five bucks then just fucking bite you."@@ @@.player;"Samantha, I already love him, you don't have to sell him to me,"@@ you respond, smirking. Samantha sighs with exaggerated pain. @@.samantha;"Of course you do. You would bond with the unhinged-looking one."@@ She pauses, then adds, a little more softly, @@.samantha;"He's weird. But he's also kinda... you."@@ You don't say anything to that. You just hold the goat a little closer as you head to the register. A store clerk with glittery nails lights up the second they see what you're holding. You make your way to the counter, goat in tow, and are immediately greeted by a cheerful employee wearing glittery nail polish and a name tag that reads Jenn. @@.girl;"Oh my God!"@@ Jenn exclaims, lighting up the moment she sees your choice. @@.girl;"You picked Grumble Goat! That one's part of our limited run. We call him Grumble because he always looks like he's about to cancel a company meeting with zero notice."@@ You look down at the goat's perma-frown and nod. @@.player;"Yeah. That tracks."@@ Jenn begins scanning the tag, then gestures toward a pastel kiosk nearby. @@.girl;"And now you get to do the best part—name him! It prints out a little adoption certificate. Official and everything."@@ You blink at the screen. @@.player;"You're serious?"@@ @@.girl;"Oh yeah,"@@ Jenn says brightly. @@.girl;"Once it's printed, it's canon."@@ @@.samantha;"I hope you're ready for this level of responsibility,"@@ Samantha mutters from beside you. @@.samantha;"You're basically becoming a single parent."@@ @@.player;"I'm not naming him Steve,"@@ you warn. @@.samantha;"I'd disown you if you did,"@@ she says, deadpan. @@.samantha;"This goat has cursed-object energy. You can't name him something normal. He deserves something dramatic and slightly suspicious."@@ You turn to her. @@.player;"Suggestions?"@@ She taps her chin, mock thoughtful. @@.samantha;"Hmm. Baron Von Paperchewer. Or maybe... Sir Misbehaves-a-Lot."@@ You stare. @@.samantha;"What?"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"You brought this upon yourself."@@ You look back at the goat. His dumb, perfect face dares you to commit. To make it official. You reach for the keyboard. <<textbox "$goatplushieName" "Bartholomew">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 1>>\ <<set $meerkatplush to true>>\ <<set $meerkatplushieName = "Nibbles">>\ You hold the little meerkat plushie in your hands, its paws curled nervously to its chest, stitched eyes wide like it's constantly apologizing for something it didn't even do. It's the kind of expression that says "I'm just happy to be here, but also deeply stressed about it." Something in you softens. You don't know why, but you feel like you get this thing. Or maybe, it gets you. Samantha drifts up beside you, peering at the meerkat like she's sizing it up for crimes. @@.samantha;"Oh no,"@@ she says flatly. @@.samantha;"That little guy's definitely been emotionally devastated by having to talk to others."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"He looks like he triple-checks his text messages before sending 'k.'"@@ Samantha nods solemnly. @@.samantha;"He's in a permanent state of rehearsing fake conversations for real interactions."@@ @@.player;"He'd panic over picking a snack and then just get the same one he always does,"@@ you say, cradling the plushie a little closer. @@.samantha;"That's depressingly accurate,"@@ she says, and then adds, @@.samantha;"I like him."@@ @@.player;"You like him because he's neurotic."@@ @@.samantha;"No,"@@ Samantha says, leaning in to boop the meerkat's nose. @@.samantha;"I like him because he's neurotic ''and'' loyal."@@ You laugh, the sound easing out of you before you realize how tightly you'd been holding your breath. You carry him gently to the front counter. The cashier spots you and lights up immediately. @@.girl;"Ooh, someone picked a PeekPal!"@@ she says, grinning wide. Her name tag—Jenn—glitters under the warm lights. @@.player;"A Peek-what?"@@ you ask. Jenn turns the meerkat slightly, revealing a small woven tag near its hind leg: ''PeekPal Series — For The Quiet Kind of Brave.'' @@.girl;"They're part of a new line,"@@ Jenn explains as she scans the barcode. @@.girl;"Designed for people who overthink everything but still show up for the people they care about."@@ You blink down at the meerkat. You think of the way he seemed to hide behind the other plushies, how his brow was slightly furrowed in stitched worry, how he felt just right when you picked him up. That familiar kind of anxious hopefulness you yourself have felt too many times before. @@.samantha;"He looks like he's emotionally exhausted but refuses to go to bed,"@@ Samantha mutters beside you. Jenn giggles. @@.girl;"Exactly! He's from the 'Cautious but Courageous' set."@@ She gestures to a glowing kiosk off to the side. @@.girl;"Anyway, you can make it official over there. Comes with a certificate and everything. You're basically adopting a tiny plushie full of anxiety and love."@@ You cradle the meerkat a little tighter. His fur's soft against your fingertips, and somehow, just being in your arms makes him seem a little less on edge. Samantha watches you for a second, then says, @@.samantha;"Just make sure you pick a name that won't give him a full identity crisis, okay?"@@ @@.player;"No promises,"@@ you murmur. The kiosk pulses gently, the screen lit in soft pastels. ''Name Your PeekPal'' flashes across the top. You take one last glance down at your new nervous friend, who stares back with that same uncertain but hopeful gaze. Samantha leans over your shoulder. @@.samantha;"I swear if you name him something like 'Dave', I'm leaving you here."@@ You don't answer. You just smile and start typing. <<textbox "$meerkatplushieName" "Nibbles">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 2>>\ <<set $beeplush to true>>\ <<set $beeplushieName = "Bumbles">>\ The bee plushie's still where you left it—perched between two felt sunflowers like it's posing for a yearbook photo it didn't know would be permanent. Its fuzzy yellow belly practically glows under the warm lighting, stubby little legs poking out like it's bracing for impact. The soft felt wings wobble as you pick it up again, and its stitched-on smile somehow manages to look both enthusiastic and deeply uncertain. You don't even hesitate. You reach for him like it's already yours. Something about it just clicks. He's not the biggest, or the fluffiest, or even the most detailed. But he fits perfectly into your hands. Just firm enough to squish without losing shape. Just fuzzy enough to comfort without clinging. You press his little belly and imagine him sitting on your shelf, cheering you on in his tiny, high-pitched bee voice every time you sit down to work or panic about life. Samantha steps up behind you and squints at him. @@.samantha;"Oh, great,"@@ she says, folding her arms. @@.samantha;"You picked the one that looks like he's five minutes into a team-building seminar and already regretting his whole life."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"I mean... yeah. But he'd still hand out the icebreaker cards."@@ She flicks one of the bee's felt wings gently. @@.samantha;"He's definitely the guy who says, 'I think we're all doing great!' while dying inside."@@ @@.player;"He's doing his best,"@@ you say, holding him closer. @@.samantha;"Which makes two of you,"@@ she replies with a smirk. @@.samantha;"Alright, I //guess// he's kinda cute. In that helpless intern sort of way."@@ You gently squeeze the bee one more time, and there's something satisfying about how he bounces back—like he's always going to try, even when he's overwhelmed. Maybe especially then. At the counter, Jenn—a bright-eyed employee with a glittery name tag—lights up the moment she sees what you're holding. @@.girl;"Ohh! BuzzBuddy alert!"@@ she exclaims. @@.girl;"I love those guys."@@ You blink. @@.player;"That's a real category?"@@ @@.girl;"Yep! Part of our Support Squad line,"@@ Jenn says, already reaching for the scanner. @@.girl;"BuzzBuddies are for folks who try real hard, spiral a little, and still show up anyway."@@ Samantha leans in and nods like she's judging a wine. @@.samantha;"A bold choice. Strong notes of people-pleasing and barely contained anxiety."@@ Jenn finishes scanning the tag and then gestures toward the kiosk. @@.girl;"Alright! Time for the best part—his name. Gotta make it official."@@ The screen glows a soft honey yellow, little sparkles drifting behind the blinking cursor. The prompt reads: ''Name Your BuzzBuddy.'' You walk over, cradling the bee in your arm. He stares up at the screen with his stitched-on smile like he's about to encourage you to do your best. Samantha peeks over your shoulder. @@.samantha;"What if you named him something absurd?"@@ You snort. @@.player;"I think he deserves better than that."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, I agree,"@@ she says, nudging you lightly with her elbow. @@.samantha;"But you know he'd answer to literally anything if you said it with confidence."@@ You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face won't go away. Your fingers hover over the screen. He's waiting. <<textbox "$beeplushieName" "Bumbles">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $textbox to false>>\ <<set $money -= 20>>\ <<if $d18plushchoice is 0>>\ You stand before the kiosk, fingers hovering just above the touchscreen. The goat plushie is nestled in your arm, smug little face tilted like it's already judging your typing skills. You take a breath, then start typing. The name lights up on the screen: $goatplushieName. A chime dings, and animated goat confetti bursts across the display—little cartoon hooves and horns in exaggerated majesty. You crack a smile, a real one. It's ridiculous. But also kind of perfect. @@.samantha;"Oh, good,"@@ Samantha says behind you, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. @@.samantha;"You gave him a decent name. I was worried you were going to go with something stupid."@@ You glance back at her. @@.player;"$goatplushieName has gravitas."@@ @@.samantha;"He has a file over at the IRS, is what he has,"@@ she mutters, smirking. @@.samantha;"Look at him. That's a goat who embezzles."@@ Before you can respond, Jenn leans forward with theatrical flair. @@.girl;"$goatplushieName! Lovely choice. Mischievous. Mysterious. A little chaotic. We love to see it."@@ She hits a few buttons, and the screen spins around to face you again. On it, in a playful font: ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $goatplushieName!'' A digital badge appears beneath it that says "Certified Goofball." You snort. @@.samantha;"Honestly?"@@ Samantha says, squinting at the screen. @@.samantha;"That little badge? You should put that on your resume."@@ Jenn gestures toward a soft pastel podium with a build-in printer, and a gentle hum begins. A small certificate emerges from the slot, printed on cream-colored cardstock with a faint shimmer. Jenn presents it like its sacred. @@.girl;"One official Certificate of Adoption."@@ You take it carefully and read: ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $goatplushieName, a Goat of Great Personality and Questionable Impulse Control, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. May your hugs be strong, your snacks be shared, and your secrets be safe. Samantha reads over your shoulder. @@.samantha;"Wow. I didn't know the goat came with a legal document binding you to emotional intimacy."@@ You gently slip the certificate into the tote Jenn hands over—white canvas with a little sleeping moon curled around a teddy bear stitched on the front. Jenn carefully tucks $goatplushieName in with soft tissue, making sure his horns don't get squished. @@.girl;"Take good care of him,"@@ she says, lowering her voice a little like it's a secret. @@.girl;"He's one of our favorite troublemakers."@@ @@.player;"Don't worry about that,"@@ you say, hugging the bag to your chest. @@.player;"I'll take the very best care of him."@@ @@.samantha;"Congrats,"@@ Samantha says as the two of you head toward the store's exit. @@.samantha;"You've adopted a goat with more personality than half our school."@@ You glance down at the tote, $goatplushieName's crooked grin peeking through the folds. And as the two of you walk back into the heart of the mall, you feel it—light, stupid, warm—like you really did just make space for something that matters. Even if it's just a very questionable goat. <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 1>>\ You take a breath. Not because it's hard—but because something about this feels... permanent. Or at least important in a way you don't want to mess up. Your fingers hover over the pastel keyboard. You type the letters one by one. $meerkatplushieName. The kiosk dings like it's proud of you. Yellowish confetti bursts across the screen with cartoon flair, and a nervous little animated meerkat peeks out from behind a digital cactus, blinking up at you like he's just now realizing he exists. @@.samantha;"Ugh,"@@ Samantha groans beside you, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. @@.samantha;"That's so sweet it's giving me a toothache."@@ Jenn leans in dramatically. @@.girl;"$meerkatplushieName,"@@ she whispers like it's a secret spell. @@.girl;"That name fits. Not that I'm allowed to say anything legally binding, but—he looks like he journals."@@ You glance down at the plushie in your hands. His soft little body presses into your chest like he's trying to be smaller than it is. You smile before you even know you're doing it. Jenn taps a few more keys and spins the screen around. ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $meerkatplushieName!'' A digital badge appears beneath it that says "Overthinker, Hug Magnet, Snack Enthusiast." Samantha peers at the screen and raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Honest? That might as well be your bio."@@ Jenn gestures to a small podium where a soft hum is already whirring from the printer. @@.girl;"Let's make it official."@@ A certificate slides out on cream-colored paper, slightly textured and—somehow—scented faintly like vanilla frosting. Jenn lifts it reverently, holding it out like it's a diploma. You take it gently. ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $meerkatplushieName, a proud member of the PeekPal Series, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. Though he lives in constant fear of loud noises and minor inconveniences, he will show up, be brave, and offer his tiny paws anyway. Provide snacks often. Encouragement always. You try not to laugh. But something about it makes your chest warm. It's like this moment knows exactly what it's doing. Samantha leans over your shoulder, reading aloud in a whisper, @@.samantha;"Offer his tiny paws anyway..."@@ Then she pauses and grins. @@.samantha;"This little guy's going to destroy you emotionally, isn't he?"@@ Jenn wraps the meerkat in soft yellow tissue, careful not to bend the ears. She seals it with a round sticker that reads: "He's safe now." Then she tucks him into a tote bag printed with the Cuddle Creations logo—an adorable bear sleeping inside a crescent moon. As she hands the bag over, Jenn smiles and leans in slightly. @@.girl;"He's the kind that needs a lot of reassurance. But something tells me you've got that covered."@@ Samantha grabs the handles before you can, then lifts the bag between you like she's weighing it. @@.samantha;"This thing's radiating codependent energy. You two are gonna get along great."@@ You carefully slide the certificate into the tote, smoothing the corners so it doesn't crumple. Then, together, you step out of the store—back into the mall's warm lights and distant chatter. Samantha glances sideways at you as you walk. @@.samantha;"$meerkatplushieName?"@@ she says, in mock disbelief. @@.samantha;"Really?"@@ You nod once, still smiling. @@.samantha;"Eh. I guess it fits,"@@ Samantha says, shrugging. @@.samantha;"Well, I guess congratulations are in order. You're not a proud parent to a stress ball with eyes."@@ And with that, the two of you melt into the flow of the crowd, a plushie tucked under your arm and something softer settling in your chest. <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 2>>\ You take a breath and rest your fingers on the screen, just for a second, letting the moment sit. Then you start to type: ''$beeplushieName''. The kiosk responds with a cheerful ding, and suddenly the display bursts to life. Animated bees zip across the screen in loops, tiny sparkles trailing behind them. One smacks into a cartoon daisy and does a slow-motion spin before wobbling upright again. It's all so charmingly over-the-top that you can't help but smile. Jenn lets out a delighted gasp. @@.girl;"$beeplushieName! Ugh, that is //so// sweet I think I just got a cavity,"@@ she says, practically bouncing on her heels. Samantha, peeking over your shoulder, rolls her eyes but doesn't bother hiding her grin. @@.samantha;"I mean, it's //something//,"@@ she teases. You glance down at the bee, still nestled in the crook of your arm. He looks completely unbothered. Loyal. Cheerful. Probably humming a motivational jingle in his head. Jenn gives a few final taps, and then swivels the screen around dramatically. ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $beeplushieName!'' A digital badge appears underneath: "Certified Encouragement Specialist – Level 1 Buzz" Samantha leans in. @@.samantha;"Level one? Wow. So humble. He's just here to buzz supportively while the world burns."@@ You snort, clutching the plushie a little closer. Jenn beams. @@.girl;"Okay, time to make it official!"@@ She leads the two of you over to a curved little podium where a soft whirring starts. The printer behind it buzzes quietly, then gently slides out a creamy slip of thick, textured paper with gold lettering and a delicate floral trim. Jenn picks it up with care and hands it over like it's something precious. ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $beeplushieName, proud member of the BuzzBuddy Support Squad, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. Though he is often overwhelmed and mildly vibrating with panic, he will always try his best, encourage those around him, and commit to emotional support with great enthusiasm. Buzz responsibly. You stare at it for a second longer than expected. There's something about it that lands differently. Something warm and ridiculous and a little bit real. Samantha peers over your arm. @@.samantha;"Okay, it's rude how that actually got to me. Why is a fake bee giving me emotions?"@@ Jenn is already wrapping the plushie in soft yellow tissue paper dotted with little white daisies. She nestles him gently into a sky-blue Cuddle Creations tote bag, its front stamped with a sleepy moon curled around a bear. She nudges the bag forward with a wink. @@.girl;"Take good care of him. He's got a lot of feelings and no idea where to put them."@@ Samantha folds her arms, watching you slip the certificate into the tote. @@.samantha;"So, like you, then."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"He's way more optimistic than I am."@@ @@.samantha;"You know what?"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"That's true."@@ You shake your head, unable to stop the small smile forming on your lips. As you both step out into the mall again, you adjust the tote bag's strap over your shoulder. The weight of it is nothing—but still, it feels like something's settled. Something small, and silly, and good. Samantha glances at you. @@.samantha;"So. $beeplushieName, huh?"@@ You shrug lightly. @@.player;"He just... felt right."@@ She doesn't tease this time. Just smirks softly, tugs your sleeve a little, and says, @@.samantha;"Yeah. I get that."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp5 to true>>\ You step into Cuddle Creations, and the rest of the mall might as well not exist anymore. The air changes immediately—warmer and softer, like walking into a memory of your childhood bedroom. The lighting is warm and glowy, bouncing off clouds and stars hand-painted on the ceiling in swirling pastel blues and purples. Shelves curve like waves around the store, packed to the brim with plushies: bears, bunnies, bees, dragons, dinosaurs, cats shaped like croissants, sharks with sneakers on, frogs wearing crowns. There's no real order—just magic. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ Samantha says, pausing just past the entrance. @@.samantha;"This place is... aggressively cute."@@ She's not wrong. Samantha walks past a shelf of bug-eyed seals and pokes one in the stomach. It squeaks. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she mutters, withdrawing her finger like it betrayed her. @@.samantha;"They have sound effects. We're in too deep, $name."@@ You pass a shelf stacked with tiny, palm-sized octopuses, each with a mood face on either side. Samantha picks one up, flips it inside out, then flips it back. @@.samantha;"Look, it's me before and after finals week,"@@ she says, holding it up. @@.samantha;"See? Pure existential dread."@@ @@.player;"I kind of like it,"@@ you state. @@.samantha;"Of course you do,"@@ she says, putting it back gently. @@.samantha;"You would love something that looks like it hasn't known peace since 2003."@@ You keep walking, letting your fingers graze across soft fabric tails and floppy ears. You can't help it—there's something grounding about the sheer //quiet joy// in the space. No one's rushing. There are kids, sure, but they're sitting on beanbags with giant frogs in their laps. One girl is whispering to what might be a smiling axolotl. You pick up a round, blobby plush from the next shelf and squeeze it gently. It gives a faint, comforting squish, like memory foam in stuffed-animal form. @@.player;"They're really soft,"@@ you murmur. Samantha looks up from where she's now poking the nose of a plush walrus. @@.samantha;"Yeah, and scientifically engineered to make you go 'aww.' Seriously, this is emotional manipulation. You're not gonna survive this store."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You're acting like you're immune."@@ She drops the walrus guiltily. @@.samantha;"I didn't say //that//. I'm just better at hiding it."@@ You turn the plush over in your hands, and for a second, the noise of the mall vanishes. The world is quiet. Just you and the shelves of stitched-up comfort. Samantha nods toward the display. @@.samantha;"Well? What's the verdict, stuffy connoisseur?"@@ she teases. You glance at her, then back at the plush you're hiding. The truth is, you kind of want to talk about it. Or maybe talk about something else, but in a roundabout way, using this silly little soft thing as a buffer. <<button "Did you have a favorite plush growing up?" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18samanthaplushieq to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samanthaplushieq" "Did you have a favorite plush growing up?" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Which one do you think looks the most like me?" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18samanthaplushieq to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samanthaplushieq" "Which one do you think looks the most like me?" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Some of these are way too cute, it feels illegal" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18samanthaplushieq to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samanthaplushieq" "Some of these are way too cute, it feels illegal" "rel">><</button>>

<<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $outfit to $tempoutfit>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You take your time in the fitting room. Piece by piece, you try each item on—the cream top, the skirt, even the fancy black dress. They settle onto your frame like they were waiting. There's no awkward tugging or uncomfortable shifting. Just warmth. Just you. The skirt swishes around your legs with a light, playful motion every time you move, and the top rests gently against your chest. You do a little turn in the mirror. You don't even flinch. Instead, you smile. You //like// what you see. There's a quiet thrill in how natural it feels. How your shoulders relax, how your posture changes without even thinking. This isn't pretending. It's //discovering//. You slip back into the clothes you wore in after, slower than usual, carefully folding each item as you place it back onto the hook. Your hand lingers on the black slit skirt. You hesitate. You glance at your reflection one last time, and your heart answers before your brain catches up. ''I want this.'' You step out, cheeks warming as the soft store music greets you again. Samantha's leaning against a display table, flipping through a rack of trendy tops and looking disgusted. The second she sees you, her eyes scan your face. She blinks. Then grins. @@.samantha;"Well, damn,"@@ she says, straightening. @@.samantha;"Someone had a good time in there."@@ You try to suppress the smile tugging at your face again, but it's useless. @@.player;"What gave it away?"@@ @@.samantha;"You're glowing, dude,"@@ she says, deadpan. @@.samantha;"Like you just got proposed to or ate the world's best pastry. Which, honestly, same emotional category."@@ You laugh under your breath. She nudges your arm with her elbow. @@.samantha;"That outfit must've hit ''hard''."@@ You glance down at the bundle in your hands. Maybe it did. You're not sure yet what you're going to do with that feeling. Not yet. But you know it matters. And right now, you're holding onto it. <<else>>\ The clothes fit. Technically. The sleeves aren't too tight, the skirt falls just right, and the soft tops don't cling in a weird way. You look... fine. Objectively speaking, maybe even kind of good. You can imagine someone else wearing them and pulling it off without blinking. But as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you feel a weird kind of distance building between you and your reflection. You tug on the collar on the cream top. Adjust the waistband of the skirt. Do a half-turn. It's not bad, but it doesn't feel like you. You want it to. You try. You picture how this would look in public. Maybe if your posture was different or if your head was clearer. You sigh, pressing your palms against the sides of your thighs. You're not disgusted, not upset. Just... disconnected. Like this is someone else's closet and you're just borrowing their role. You change back, fold the pieces, and pick them up. You hesitate for a second, then pull open the curtain. The light spills back in. The world resumes. Samantha's standing a few feet away, leaning on the wall across from the fitting rooms with her phone in one hand and a mildly annoyed expression that melts the moment she sees your face. She straightens. @@.samantha;"Woah. Hey. You good?"@@ You nod too quickly. @@.player;"Yeah. Fine."@@ She narrows her eyes, studying you. @@.samantha;"You didn't even let me see what you tried on,"@@ she says, trying to keep it light, but her voice is quieter now. @@.samantha;"You look... I don't know. Off."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It just wasn't me."@@ Samantha watches you for a second longer, the sharpness in her usual tone fading into something softer. Concern. Not the overbearing kind. Just her being present, as always. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ she says finally. @@.samantha;"You don't have to talk about it. Just... you okay?"@@ You nod again, slower this time. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ She doesn't press. She just stands next to you, not too close, not saying anything more. You're not sure what, if anything, you'll buy. But something in you knows this wasn't really about the clothes. And maybe... maybe that's why it's so hard to decide. <</if>>\ <<button "Is there anything to buy?" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha NovaTrend 3">><</button>>

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ The NovaTrend bag rustles softly in your hands as the two of you step back out into the main corridor of the mall. It's a sleek little thing—matte white with raised lettering, a splash of teal tissue paper peeking out the top like a flag declaring your quiet victory. The moment the door swings closed behind you, the mall noise floods back in—bright lights, loud voices, and someone arguing on speakerphone near the store next door. But it all feels...distant. Like you're moving through it wrapped in a thin layer of warm static. You glance down at the bag again. You keep expecting the weight in your chest to come back—like your body's going to suddenly realize what you just did and panic. But instead, you feel light. Not in the sense that you're floating away, but like you're finally not carrying something you didn't know was heavy until it was gone. Samantha, walking beside you with her sleeves pushed halfway up her arms, shoots you a look out of the corner of her eye. She doesn't say anything at first. She just smirks. @@.samantha;"So,"@@ she drawls after a beat, @@.samantha;"you and NovaTrend, huh? Never thought I'd lose you of all people to The Cult of Soft Tones and High-Waisted Enlightenment."@@ You roll your eyes, but your smile creeps back before you can stop it. @@.player;"It was... nice."@@ @@.samantha;"Nice?"@@ she gasps, mock-offended. @@.samantha;"You looked like you were about to start singing a ballad in there. I half expected birds to fly out of the fitting room and braid your hair."@@ You huff out a laugh. @@.player;"I just liked how it felt, alright? Being in the outfit."@@ She stops walking for a second and turns toward you, her smirk softening into something far more sincere. @@.samantha;"Good. I'm glad."@@ You look down at the bag again, fiddling with the handles. @@.player;"It felt like... I don't know. Like the clothes didn't argue with me. Like I wasn't trying to dress //around// something."@@ @@.samantha;"That's what clothes are //supposed// to do,"@@ Samantha says, shrugging. @@.samantha;"You shouldn't have to fight your reflection just to feel like a person."@@ You nod, and for a moment, the two of you fall into step again. She tilts her head with a sly grin. @@.samantha;"That top that says Symmetry on it, though? If you don't wear it next time we hang out, I'm reporting you for emotional crimes."@@ <<if $topUnlock[14] is true>>\ @@.player;"I haven't even taken the tag off yet."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I didn't even end up buying it."@@ <</if>>\ @@.samantha;"Don't care. You're wearing it."@@ You laugh again, and this time it fills your whole chest. The bag swings gently at your side as you walk. Whatever comes next, whatever choices you still have to make—it's yours. And that feels good. <<else>>\ The doors of NovaTrend slide shut behind you with a soft hiss and a final puff of floral-scented air. The mall greets you again with its usual overstimulating hum—brighter lights, louder voices, someone arguing on speakerphone near the store next door. You've got the shopping bag in your hand. Just one—light, matte white, with the NovaTrend logo printed in metallic foil. It rustles faintly as you walk, even though it barely weighs anything. Samantha's beside you, not saying anything yet. Which is weird. She always says something. Usually something loud, inappropriate, or deeply unserious. But now, she just watches you out of the corner of her eye as you walk. You try to beat her to it. @@.player;"I bought something."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ she says, gently. @@.samantha;"I saw."@@ You swallow. @@.player;"It felt weird,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"Wearing it."@@ Samantha stays quiet for a second. Then she nods. @@.samantha;"Yeah?"@@ You nod too, more to yourself. @@.player;"I don't know. Everyone talks about it like it's supposed to feel right, or euphoric, or whatever. But I just felt... wrong. I couldn't stop thinking about how I looked. Like, what if someone saw? What if I saw myself too clearly?"@@ Your voice dips toward the end. You're not sure why you bought what you did. Guilt, maybe. Obligation. A weird need to prove something—to yourself, to the $referto, to whatever's happening to your body. @@.player;"I thought maybe I was supposed to like it,"@@ you add, quieter now. Samantha stops walking. You slow down a step too. She turns to face you. @@.samantha;"Hey."@@ You look at her. She doesn't make a joke. She doesn't roll her eyes or smirk or make it about the color of the top or the cut of the skirt. Her voice is even, steady. @@.samantha;"You don't have to feel a certain way just because people expect you to,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"They're just clothes. If it didn't feel right, that's okay. It doesn't mean anything's wrong with you, or that you're doing this wrong. It just means you're figuring it out—and that takes time."@@ The mall carries on around you—carts rolling, voices echoing, a pop song warbling from somewhere near the pretzel stand. But for just a moment, it feels like the world quiets around the two of you. Samantha nudges your arm gently. @@.samantha;"We can always go somewhere else next."@@ You nod, a little slower this time. The bag rustles softly at your side. You keep walking. Together. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp to true>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ NovaTrend feels like it stepped out of a magazine the moment you approach—pristine glass, sleek black trim, mannequins in effortless poses, and a gentle hint of clean linen and fruit drifting out whenever the door opens. It's stylish without being showy, like trendy doesn't need to shout. The second you step into NovaTrend, it feels like you've crossed some invisible threshold from the messy, fluorescent mall chaos into the curated, ultra-clean world of a fashion influencer's closet. Samantha makes a disgusted face. @@.samantha;"Oh nooooo,"@@ she drawls, dragging out the syllables like she's narrating a slow death. @@.samantha;"You //would// pick NovaTrend."@@ You glance back at her. @@.player;"What's wrong with NovaTrend?"@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, what's //right// with NovaTrend?"@@ she retorts, gesturing to a display of sweaters folded like origami. @@.samantha;"Everything in here looks like it comes with a personality quiz and a $12 coffee order. This place is, like, if Pinterest got gentrified."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"You could've waited outside."@@ @@.samantha;"I //could've//,"@@ she agrees. @@.samantha;"But then who would make sure you don't accidentally walk out looking like Jessica?"@@ @@.player;"What's wrong with Jessica?"@@ you ask. Before she can respond, a staff member approaches. They have an effortless bounce that suggests they've worn every piece in the store twice already. Their name tag reads "Elle (they/them)" and they catch the hesitation in your body language instantly. @@.girl;"Hey there! Welcome to NovaTrend. Looking for anything in particular today?"@@ You hesitate, and Samantha opens her mouth, but Elle catches your eye gently and continues. @@.girl;"Something casual? First-time fitting? Or just trying things out?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Just... trying stuff. New to this."@@ Elle gives a small, knowing nod, like they've heard that before. @@.girl;"Got it. No pressure, let's just keep it easy. We have some pieces that are super soft and low-fuss. Want me to pull a few options in your size?"@@ @@.player;"Sure,"@@ you say. Elle gives you a quick once-over—not judgmental, just efficient—and glides away to a nearby rack. Samantha leans over as soon as Elle's out of earshot. @@.samantha;"I bet even their pens have an aesthetic."@@ You snort quietly. Elle returns a minute later with a small stack of clothes—nothing outrageous, just trendy pieces that seem to beckon. @@.girl;"These are pretty forgiving fits,"@@ Elle says. @@.girl;"Nothing that hugs too hard, and everything's adjustable. If you like how any of them feel, we can look at other options too."@@ You nod again. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ Elle gestures toward the back. @@.girl;"Fitting rooms are just through there. Let me know if you need another size."@@ You head in the direction they pointed, passing displays of wide-leg trousers, trendy boots, and two mannequins posed mid-laugh, like they just heard a joke only rich people understand. Behind you, Samantha mutters under her breath, @@.samantha;"$name, I swear to God that one of those mannequins just judged me."@@ You roll your eyes and make your way to the fitting rooms. There, you find a calm, welcoming space: soft lights, a mirror framed gently, and a wooden bench. You hold the chosen outfits like quiet treasures. You step inside the changing room, closing the curtain behind you. The world softens to just you, the clothes, and a mirror. <<button "Try outfits on" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha NovaTrend 1">><</button>>

<<if $d18trygoth is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "GothOutfit">>\ <<if $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $tempshoes to $shoes>>\ <<set $outfit to 5>>\ <<set $shoes to 9>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 6>>\ You pause, fingers hovering just over the hanger. The lace trim brushes your knuckles—soft, weightless—and yet it sends a subtle pull through your chest. Not quite adrenaline. Not quite nerves. Something between the two. Like cracking open a door you didn't even realize was there. You glance toward the salesgirl. She's leaned against a rack now, arms crossed and one black boot resting on its heel like this is just another Tuesday. Her dark lipstick hasn't smudged a bit, but she hasn't lost her edge—but the sharpness in her expression has eased. No smug smirk, no teasing. Just a quiet, steady look that says more than words could. You swallow. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, voice barely above the hum of the store's moody playlist. @@.player;"I'll try it."@@ Her eyes gleam like moonlight catching on a knife's edge. @@.girl;"Good,"@@ she says simply, and hands it over like she's passing you a relic meant only for the worthy. The hanger feels heavier now. Or maybe it's just the weight of the moment. Samantha watches you with a raised eyebrow. @@.samantha;"You're really gonna go for it?"@@ she asks, but there's no mockery in it. Just a hint of surprised. And maybe even a little pride. @@.player;"I mean, I'm already here, right?"@@ you mutter, and head toward the fitting rooms before you can talk yourself out of it. The fitting room curtain sighs closed behind you, swallowing you into a dim little pocket of space. One overhead bulb buzzes in mild protest, casting uneven shadows across the floor. A full-length mirror leans against the wall. You hang the outfit gently, then start to change. The dress slides over your shoulder like it's always known where to settle. The fabric is soft but structured; it hugs, but it doesn't cling. The off-shoulder cut brushes against your collarbones, the sleeves loose and billowy down to the wrist. The belt wraps snug at your waist, the buckle clicking into place with a finality that somehow feels symbolic. You tug on the fishnets, then step into the combat boots. You feel... taller. Not just physically. Like you take up a little more space in the world now, and for once, that isn't a bad thing. You turn slowly to face the mirror. <<set $shatterboxCG to true>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhairtie to $hairtie>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_Shatterbox">>\ And stop. You blink, once. Twice. The person staring back feels like someone you've met before in dreams. Maybe in moments of stillness. A you that's softer where it counts. Someone quiet, confident, not trying to shrink or guess what other people expect. The boots are bold, the lace is tender, and the look in your eyes is— Well. Something new. You tilt your head. Yeah. Maybe this isn't what you'd wear to school, or even out on a normal day. But in this moment? You look kind of incredible. From the other side of the curtain, the salesgirl's voice breaks through: @@.girl;"Well? You still alive in there, or did the mirror swallow you?"@@ You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. @@.player;"It's..."@@ You hesitate, then smile, even though no one can see it. @@.player;"Kind of awesome, actually."@@ You hear the faintest, smug little hum from beyond the curtain. @@.girl;"Told you."@@ <<button "Step outside" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha ShatterBox 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ You stop just short of taking the dress. It hangs there like a dare—dark, dramatic, and unapologetically bold. The lace flutters faintly in the low air-conditioning like it's breathing. There's a small, traitorous part of you that wants to know how it would feel, how it would look. How you'd look. But your hand doesn't move. Instead, you let out a quiet exhale and take a small step back. @@.player;"It's cool,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But... it's not really me."@@ The sales associate's fingers freeze mid-swing on the hanger. She's good—recovers fast—but you catch the flicker of disappointment before it slips behind a polite nod. @@.girl;"No worries,"@@ she says, tone smooth and even. @@.girl;"Not everyone wants to look like a sad poem and a riot had a baby."@@ She gently returns the hanger to its hook, letting the fabric settle like a sigh. @@.girl;"Still. You had the vibe for it. Just sayin'."@@ Samantha leans against the metal rack beside you, her arms folded, gaze lingering on the dress. @@.samantha;"Honestly?"@@ she mutters, eyeing the sleeves. @@.samantha;"If I were you, I'd be haunted if I saw someone else rocking it first. Like, I'd pretend not to notice, sure, but secretly spiral."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, I guess,"@@ you muttter. @@.samantha;"Hey, I'm just saying,"@@ she smirks. @@.samantha;"It's dramatic. You're dramatic. Match made in mall goth heaven."@@ You scoff but can feel the corner of your mouth twitch. The sales associate laughs softly, folding her arms. @@.girl;"If nobody picks it up today, it's either going to sit in our system forever or get adopted by some kid who just found out what a goth was on TikTok."@@ @@.samantha;"That sounds... dire,"@@ Samantha says. @@.girl;"Right?"@@ the girl replies, lifting a brow. @@.girl;"You'd be doing it a favor."@@ You glance once more at the outfit, but the pull you felt earlier has dimmed. Like something inside you recoiled just enough to tip the balance. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, voice a little quieter now. @@.player;"But I think I'm good."@@ She doesn't try to talk you out of it—just nods and steps back with practiced cool. As you and Samantha turn to leave, she nudges your arm with her elbow. @@.samantha;"Hey. You made the call. That's what matters. Still think you would've looked like a badass vampire girlfriend, but... whatever."@@ You offer a small laugh, grateful. Behind you, the associate calls out, voice light and dry: @@.girl;"Good luck finding something less moody!"@@ You and Samantha step back into the mall's glow. It's bright here—almost //too// bright after the cave-like intensity of ShatterBox. The floor tiles reflect everything, the food court smells vaguely like pretzels and spilled soda, and the entire atmosphere feels... gentler. Samantha stretches her arms overhead. @@.samantha;"Okay, so we survived. That was fun."@@ @@.player;"It was definitely... an experience,"@@ you respond. @@.samantha;"Yeah."@@ She pauses, then adds, @@.samantha;"You know you could've totally pulled that look off, right?"@@ You glance over at her. @@.player;"You think?"@@ She gives a quick shrug, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. @@.samantha;"Please. You'd make that dress nervous."@@ That gets a real smile out of you. One that sticks, warm and solid. @@.player;"Well,"@@ you say, gesturing vaguely toward the rest of the mall, @@.player;"should we keep going?"@@ Samantha bumpers her shoulder into yours. @@.samantha;"Yeah. C'mon. Let's find something that //isn't// haunted."@@ And with that, the two of you walk off into the crowd—leaving behind the shadows, flickering lights, and a dress that still waits. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ You take a deep and grounding breath. One hand grips the edge of the curtain, the other lightly touches your waist where the belt clinches tight. The cold press of the little heart-shaped ring sits at your fingertips, and the fabric hangs heavier than you're used to. Not uncomfortable at all. Just.. deliberate. Like it's framing you, instead of hiding you. Your heart's beating fast, but it's not fear. Not really. It's closer to anticipation—like you just fell and are unsure whether you're about to fall or fly. And then you step out. Your boots land on the polished concrete with a soft but solid thud, each step echoing just slightly in the quiet stretch between the fitting rooms and the racks of oversized black sweaters. You look up—and there, at the end of the hall, a tall mirror framed in flickering LED vines waits. You see yourself. And everything halts. You don't look like you're pretending. Or dressing up as someone else. You don't look like a joke. Instead, you look like a version of yourself that makes //sense//. Like someone you've been slowly circling for a long time but never quite dared to approach. Samantha looks up from a table of studded wristbands, one eyebrow raised, a snarky remark clearly forming—but it never arrives. She pauses. Actually pauses. @@.samantha;"Oh,"@@ she says, blinking. @@.samantha;"Okay, damn."@@ You raise your brows slightly. @@.player;"Is that good or bad?"@@ She crosses her arms slowly, tilting her head as she gives you a once-over. @@.samantha;"I mean, you kind of look like you bite people. But only those who deserve it, of course."@@ You snort, tension easing. @@.samantha;"It's a compliment, by the way,"@@ she adds, quickly. @@.samantha;"I meant it in a good way."@@ You glance down at yourself again, at the boots, the lace trim, the soft sleeves brushing your arms. Then back at your reflection. Your posture's a little straighter now. Your jaw set without thinking. @@.player;"I kind of... love it,"@@ you admit. You say it quietly, but you're not embarrassed. Samantha watches you for a second longer, then smiles. Not wide or mocking—just this subtle, satisfied little twist at the corners of her mouth. @@.samantha;"You should. You look like you were //born// in that dress. Like if you took it off, lightning would strike or something."@@ @@.player;"You are //so// weird,"@@ you say—but it comes out smiling. @@.samantha;"Compliment received,"@@ she replies, giving you a quick salute. The salesgirl, who's been lingering just out of the way with her arms folded and an eyebrow lifted, finally steps closer. Her expression's unreadable for a moment, then softens into something knowing. @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ she says, like she already saw this outcome the second you walked in. @@.girl;"It suits you."@@ Samantha claps her hands once, dramatically. @@.samantha;"Alright. Final verdict? I think you're gonna have to fight me for that outfit."@@ @@.player;"You wouldn't survive, you know,"@@ you deadpan. @@.samantha;"Oh, I know. But I'd die fabulous."@@ You shake your head, laughing. You look back at the mirror. At yourself. And something just clicks. @@.player;"I think I've been waiting for this,"@@ you murmur. The salesgirl nods, like it's nothing new. @@.girl;"And it waited for you, too."@@ <<else>>\ You ease the curtain open, one hand still gripping the fabric like it might be a shield. The boots thud quietly on the floor as you step out, the dress trailing just slightly behind you with each movement—too fluid, too noticeable. Your arms cross instinctively over your chest, shoulders hunched a little tighter than usual, like that might make the whole thing feel less... loud. Samantha glances up from the display shelf where she's been absently poking at a velvet collar shaped like bat wings. Her eyes do a slow blink, and then widen. Not dramatically, not with a gasp or squeal—just a subtle hitch of breath, followed by a slow once-over. @@.samantha;"Well, well,"@@ she says, voice pitched with that usual dry sarcasm. @@.samantha;"Didn't expect you to fully commit. You're serving... haunted poetry major who drinks too much red wine."@@ You try to laugh, but it comes out more like a cough. @@.player;"Yeah, I think I'm one silk ruffle away from reciting tragic monologues in a thunderstorm."@@ You stand awkwardly, shifting your weight from one boot to the other. The belt digs a little where it sits across your hips—noticeable in a way you're not used to. The neckline feels too open, the hem just slightly too short. You're aware of every inch of fabric. You don't hate how it looks exactly, but wearing it feels like stepping into someone else's outline. Not quite yours. The salesgirl approaches with a slanted smile, her arms still folded as she scans you up and down. @@.girl;"I can't lie,"@@ she says, tilting her head, @@.girl;"that's a strong silhouette."@@ You manage a half-smile. @@.player;"I guess that's a vibe."@@ @@.girl;"Oh, it's //definitely// a vibe,"@@ she replies. @@.girl;"I've seen way worse first tries. You're pulling it off more than you think."@@ You nod, tugging subtly at the sleeve where it slides down your arm again. @@.player;"It's cool. Just... doesn't really feel like me."@@ Samantha tilts her head and takes a step closer, squinting at the belt. @@.samantha;"I mean, sure. It's a lot. But I've seen you in gym class. This is at least traumatic than those navy blue mesh shorts."@@ @@.player;"Wow. Thanks for the support,"@@ you mutter, but it softens into a smile. She rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"Look, all I'm saying is that you don't look bad. You just look... new. Like you're trying something out. That's not illegal."@@ The salesgirl laughs. @@.girl;"Not yet, anyway."@@ You huff a laugh, rubbing your hand down the side of the dress. It's soft. Too soft. @@.player;"I feel like I'm in disguise."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Is that really a bad thing?"@@ You glance back at the mirror. The person staring back looks... fine. Stylish, even. The dress fits. The boots are cool. The belt, the sleeves, the neckline—they all //work//, in some objective sense. But it's like looking at someone who knows exactly what they want. And you don't. Not right now. @@.player;"Maybe it isn't a bad thing,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"But I don't think it's me."@@ Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"Then it's not. You tried it. No rule says you have to walk out of here as an emo fashion icon."@@ The salesgirl gives a little two-finger salute. @@.girl;"Door's open if you ever change your mind, though."@@ You nod, grateful. You don't hate what you see in the mirror. But you're not sure if it's a door you're ready to walk through. Still... you gave it a shot. That counts for something. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha ShatterBox 3">><</button>>

You're still standing in front of the mirror. The soft overhead light casts a dim glow on the silver eyelets of the boots and the delicate shimmer of the choker. The outfit doesn't feel like a costume anymore. It's snug in the right places, drapes in the right places—like it knew what it was doing long before you ever touched it. You can't quite name what you're feeling, only that it's unfamiliar and a little louder than you expected. Samantha's leaning against the edge of a nearby display table, arms folded, phone long forgotten. Her head is tilted slightly, her eyes flicking between your reflection and the real you—almost as if she's trying to decide if they're the same person. She's quiet. Not in the awkward way, but in the rare, thinking-too-hard way. The salesgirl makes her way over, her boots tapping a steady rhythm across the floor. She walks like someone who's used to being in charge, shoulders relaxed and gaze sharp. Arms crossed, she stops a few steps away and scans you head to toe, her smirk lazy but genuine. @@.girl;"So,"@@ she says, tilting her head. @@.girl;"You buying it or just blessing the store with a one-time appearance?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"The whole outfit?"@@ You glance down at yourself. @@.player;"Dress, boots, belt, choker, fishnets? All of it?"@@ @@.girl;"The full look,"@@ she confirms. @@.girl;"It's cohesive, don't you think?"@@ You open your mouth, then close it again. @@.player;"It looks expensive."@@ @@.samantha;"It probably //is// expensive,"@@ Samantha mutters under her breath, still watching your reflection like it might say something first. @@.player;"How much?"@@ you ask. @@.girl;"Fifty bucks,"@@ the girl says. You stop. @@.player;"...Fifty for everything?"@@ She nods once, bored and smug. @@.girl;"Corporate glitch. Inventory system threw a tantrum, clearance tag stacked on each other, I bundled it as a display fit to save time. Should be like two hundred, minimum, The boots alone usually retail for eighty."@@ She taps the side of her head. @@.girl;"Indie belt maker, hand-stitched fishnets, locally made choker by some girl with a soldering iron—basically boutique quality across the board."@@ @@.samantha;"What kind of chaos coupon magic...?"@@ Samantha says, trailing off as she raises both eyebrows. @@.girl;"Right?"@@ the salesgirl grins. @@.girl;"Anyway, today's your lucky day. Or the universe's weird little joke. Either way, it's yours if you want it."@@ She makes a slow orbit around you. When she completes the loop, she crosses her arms again. @@.girl;"You pull it off."@@ You glance at Samantha. Your best friend meets your eyes, then shrugs, her voice softer than before. @@.samantha;"I mean... you kind of killed it. It really does work on you."@@ You glance back at the glass, half-expecting the reflection to crack or laugh or shake its head. But it doesn't. It just stands there like it's been waiting for you to catch up. The salesgirl's tone dips, just a little. @@.girl;"No pressure,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"But if you feel even a little like you belong in that, I'd hold onto it. Most people aren't a good match for it."@@ Your fingers graze the edge of the dress again. The hem sways gently with the motion, brushing against your legs. You can feel your pulse beneath your skin. @@.girl;"So?"@@ the salesgirl prompts again, voice light but pointed. Samantha leans in a little, eyebrow raised. Your reflection doesn't blink. Neither do you. <<if $money > 49>>\ <<button "Buy it" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha ShatterBox 4">>\<<set $d18buygoth to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_buygoth" "Buy it" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Don't buy it" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha ShatterBox 4">>\<<set $d18buygoth to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_buygoth" "Don't buy it" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18buygoth is true>>\ <<set $outfitUnlock[5] to true>>\ <<set $money -= 50>>\ You stare at your reflection for a few more seconds, the air around you humming like it's waiting for a decision. The dress clings just enough, the boots make you feel grounded, and the belt, absurdly, feels like armor. There's a version of you staring back that looks self-assured and cinematic—like they walked straight out of a dream. @@.player;"I want it,"@@ you say, voice firm and quieter than expected. The goth salesgirl grins instantly, like she's been sitting on that smile the whole time. @@.girl;"I fucking knew it. You've got the cheekbones and spirit for the outfit."@@ Samantha makes a sound that's somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. @@.samantha;"Okay, wow. You're actually going for it."@@ You step forward—still wearing the full outfit—and she doesn't ask you to take it off. @@.girl;"Okay, look, technically I'm supposed to make people change before ringing them up,"@@ she says, unlocking the register. She glances up at you. @@.girl;"But honestly? For this? We're gonna pretend that rule never existed. The vibes are too strong."@@ She types something into the register, taps the screen, and then nods at the total. @@.girl;"Fifty even. And let me be very clear: that's criminally cheap. Like, you should be arrested for getting away with it."@@ You tap your phone against the reader without hesitation. The soft beep confirms the sale. Samantha mutters, @@.samantha;"Milestone reached,"@@ and leans one elbow on the counter. @@.samantha;"Retail therapy."@@ You try not to smile, but it's useless. Behind you, you hear the salesgirl folding up the outfit's tag like it's a spent spell scroll. She slides the receipt across the counter, then lifts her chin. @@.girl;"Honestly?"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Wear it out. Let the world deal with it."@@ You pause for half a second, then nod. Outside the store, the light feels brighter, but you don't flinch from it. The boots thud softly as you walk, the choker catching the overhead lights in glints. Samantha falls in beside you, one eyebrow raised in appraisal. @@.samantha;"You really did it,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"You actually wore the dress."@@ You glance over at her, feeling the weight of it settle on your shoulders. @@.player;"I did."@@ @@.samantha;"And?"@@ she asks. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You don't rush your answer. @@.player;"It feels... right."@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"Knew it."@@ She punches your arm lightly. @@.samantha;"You're still a dork, though. Just a slightly more dangerous-looking one."@@ You don't mind. Not even a little. <<else>>\ You hesitate before answering. @@.player;"...It's interesting,"@@ you say finally. @@.player;"I don't even know why I bought it, it's not really me."@@ Samantha watches you for a beat, then nods like she gets it. @@.samantha;"Fair enough."@@ She gives you a quick smile. @@.samantha;"Still a dork either way. Just one in a cooler outfit now."@@ You let out a soft laugh. It doesn't feel perfect—but it doesn't feel like a mistake either. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ You stand there for a moment longer, still facing the mirror. The outfit fits. It really does. Something about it clicks. But even so... it doesn't feel like something you can take home. You take a small breath, steadying yourself, and turn away from your reflection. @@.player;"I think I'm gonna pass,"@@ you say, your voice quiet but clear. The salesgirl arches a brow, surprised—but not offended. @@.girl;"Sure. Little disappointing, but your call."@@ @@.player;"It was nice,"@@ you say, your voice quiet. @@.player;"But I think I'm just... not there yet."@@ She studies you for a second longer. Then nods. @@.girl;"Fair enough."@@ From a few feet away, Samantha leans against a display case, eyes fixed on you like she's watching a scene unfold in her favorite show. @@.samantha;"You sure?"@@ she says, tilting her head. @@.samantha;"Because you kinda walked out looking like you'd just been summoned from a vampire coven in Transylvania."@@ <<if $study > 84>>\ You snort. @@.player;"I'm not qualified to dress like I belong in Romania."@@ <<else>>\ You snort. @@.player;"I don't even know where Transylvania is."@@ <</if>>\ @@.samantha;"It's fine,"@@ she says, brushing imaginary dust from her jacket. @@.samantha;"You looked cool. Like, 'accidentally started a cult' cool. In a good way."@@ You smile faintly, ducking back into the changing room. Taking the outfit off is harder than you expect. Not physically—it slides off just fine—but it feels like shedding something more than fabric. Like unfastening the version of you that only gets to exist inside mirrors. You fold everything with care before stepping out. The salesgirl takes it without a word. Her smirk is gone now—replaced by something almost thoughtful. @@.girl;"If you change your mind,"@@ she says, @@.girl;"I've got the whole ensemble for a little longer. Just ask for it."@@ You offer a nod in return. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ Back in the mall, the air feels a little too bright. You blink against the sterile lights. Samantha falls into step beside you, hands shoved deep in her pockets. @@.samantha;"You know,"@@ she says, @@.samantha;"I was fully expecting you to buy it and then instantly regret it once someone's grandma gave you a weird look."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"Would've served me right."@@ @@.samantha;"But I still think it worked,"@@ she adds, glancing over at you. @@.samantha;"It suited you, even if you didn't keep it."@@ @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you ask. She nods. @@.samantha;"Yeah."@@ You smile, soft and small, as the mall swallows you both back into its steady hum. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp1 to true>>\ Stepping into ShatterBox, you're hit with a wave of velvet darkness and electric energy—like a haunted mansion redesigned for alt fashion devotees. The walls are matte black, purple LED strips twisting around shelves like digital ivy, and the speakers pulse with slow, thudding bass. Posters featuring cult indie bands, surreal album art, and glitch-horror illustrations cling at odd angles, while mannequins stand in brooding poses—as if daring you to challenge them. Samantha slows beside you, her sneakers squeaking faintly on the floor as she looks around. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ she says under her breath. @@.samantha;"Why does it feel like a vampire's walk-in closet?"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Maybe that's exactly what it is."@@ @@.samantha;"No, yeah, I'm into it,"@@ she says, folding her arms. @@.samantha;"This place has //vibes//. Like the kind that eat you alive if you look insecure for more than five seconds."@@ @@.player;"So we should ''definitely'' split up and wander into the fog,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.samantha;"That's how people die in movies,"@@ she mutters, though she's already wandering toward a rack of mesh tops with fake bloodstains on them. You're still soaking in the décor—if you can call creeping vinyl posters, looping CRT glitch videos, and a looming neon sign that says "BITE ME" décor—when the curtain behind the counter rustles. Then //she// appears. The girl who steps out has presence. Not the kind that shouts, but the kind that sinks its teeth in. Chunky boots that hit the ground like a war drum. Fishnets, a high-waisted pleated skirt, and a shredded band tee with a skull design you're pretty sure was drawn in someone's blood. Her black lipstick is immaculate, sharp in a way that makes you wonder if she uses it as a weapon. A moon pendant larger than a toddler sits in front of her chest. She pauses, eyes sweeping the store, landing right on you. @@.girl;"You look like you're trying to convince yourself you're not into this,"@@ she says, voice flat but playful. @@.girl;"Newsflash—people don't walk into ''my'' store by accident."@@ You blink. @@.player;"I... wasn't gonna buy anything."@@ She raises a single, skeptical brow. @@.girl;"Sure, sure. Just browsing. Everyone's just browsing. Until the clothing speaks to you and then suddenly you're reevaluating your whole personality."@@ @@.samantha;"She's got a point,"@@ Samantha says from behind you. The salesgirl smiles, just a little, like she's pleased with herself. @@.girl;"Come on. I'll show you something."@@ She turns, the chains on her belt jangling with every step as she leads you through the dim-lit racks and shelves. There are shirts with cryptic phrases, corsets that look like they're built for battle, and jackets that could double as armor. She walks with the confidence of someone who knows every square inch of the space and isn't afraid to test you in it. @@.girl;"There was a system wipe last week,"@@ she says over her shoulder. @@.girl;"We lost half the inventory. Corporate called it 'inventory corruption.' I call it a spiritual cleansing."@@ She stops in front of a lone display hanger like she's presenting an offering to the fashion gods. @@.girl;"But this?"@@ she says. @@.girl;"This survived. And I kept it in the back because, honestly, I didn't want just anyone getting their hands on it."@@ She pulls it forward with one hand. It's an outfit. The dress is black—of course—but not in a boring way. It's soft and velvety, off-shoulder with long sleeves that flare just a bit. There's a subtle lace trim along the hem, like the edge of something forgotten and romantic. A thin belt wraps around the middle, with a silver heart-shaped buckle that catches the low light just enough to sparkle. Attached to the hanger are a pair of fishnet tights, and below that—your eyes catch on the boots. Platform combat boots. Polished black with silver buckles, thick soles, and enough presence to stomp through someone's soul. @@.girl;"This one never made it to the floor,"@@ she says, holding it like something sacred. @@.girl;"It was supposed to be scrapped. I pulled it before it got tossed. I mean, look at it. This isn't for a window mannequin. This is for someone with //taste//."@@ Samantha takes a long look at the outfit, then slowly lets out a low whistle. @@.samantha;"Okay, I ''hate'' how much I like this."@@ @@.player;"It's..."@@ you begin, laughing uncertainly. @@.player;"It's kind of intense."@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, it's //cool//,"@@ she insists. @@.samantha;"It's like—'I've been through heartbreak, but make it fashion.' You'd give off Aurora vibes. People would be scared that you'd hex them."@@ You squint. @@.player;"I don't know if that's a good thing."@@ @@.samantha;"Look, the point is that it's got aura,"@@ she shrugs. @@.samantha;"Capital A and everything. And honestly? You could pull it off."@@ The salesgirl watches you both with quiet amusement. @@.girl;"She's right. You've got the bone structure for brooding, and the energy is on point."@@ You hesitate, fingers brushing the fabric. It's surprisingly soft. The dress sways a little on the hanger like it's waiting. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"It's not really my usual thing."@@ @@.samantha;"Okay, and?"@@ Samantha says, brows raised. @@.samantha;"Maybe your usual thing is due for an upgrade."@@ You laugh, almost despite yourself. The sales attendant takes the hanger from you and flips it in her hand. @@.girl;"Try it. Or don't. But if you don't, I guarantee some watered-down TikTok goth wannabe is gonna wander in later and ruin its potential."@@ You sigh. @@.girl;"Well?"@@ she asks, raising her eyebrow. @@.girl;"The fitting room's open and the mirror doesn't bite."@@ <<button "Try it on" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha ShatterBox 1">>\<<set $d18trygoth to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_trygoth" "Try it on" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide against wearing it" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha ShatterBox 1">>\<<set $d18trygoth to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_trygoth" "Decide against wearing it" "story">><</button>>

<<set $shoeUnlock to []>> <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ You slip off the shoe you were trying on and place it neatly back on the bench. The cushion beneath you hisses faintly as you shift your weight. Samantha stands nearby, arms crossed loosely, tapping the heel of one sneaker against the floor like she's barely holding back a thousand opinions. @@.samantha;"Well?"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"How does it feel? Do they give you the power of flight, or are we talking more 'casually walk with slightly better posture' levels of impact?"@@ You roll your ankle a bit. @@.player;"Honestly? Kinda great. Light, comfy. I think I'm done trying stuff on."@@ Samantha shrugs with mock solemnity. @@.samantha;"We gather here today to honor $name's ankles. May they forever be supported and blessed."@@ Before you can roll your eyes for what feels like the tenth time today, a sales associate approaches—crew-cut, crisp store polo, clipboard tucked under one arm, and an approachable smile already in place. @@.boy;"Looks like you're weighing some options,"@@ he says warmly, glancing down at the neat line of shoes you've already set out. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah, just figuring out what fits best. Could I get the prices?"@@ @@.boy;"Of course."@@ He flips the clipboard and starts down the row. @@.boy;"First, the BreezeAir Lows with the butterfly design. That's a limited, designer collab—forty dollars. They're pretty in-demand right now."@@ Samantha snorts and lifts one up, inspecting it like it's a rare gem. @@.samantha;"Delicate //and// dangerous. Like you in a good mood."@@ You ignore her and glance at the next pair as he moves on. The associate moves on to the neon trainers. @@.boy;"These SwiftCharge Trainers feature breathable mesh and NeonGrip soles—designed for active days. Thirty dollars."@@ Samantha winces dramatically. @@.samantha;"That's thirty dollars toward causing traffic accidents with your shoes alone. I respect it, though. Bold."@@ He chuckles politely, used to mall weirdos by the look of him. The associate then gestures toward the flats. @@.boy;"The SomaSoft options—white, black, and brown—are everyday classics at fifteen dollars combined."@@ You glance at Samantha, waiting for the inevitable commentary. She doesn't disappoint. @@.samantha;"Ah, the introverts of footwear. So humble. So beige."@@ Finally, the associate gestures to the pair you just took off—SeraForm StreetLace Lights, the matte white low-tops. @@.boy;"Those are twenty. Classic look, low-profile, versatile. One of our bestsellers, actually."@@ He flips his clipboard and offers a small nod. @@.boy;"Take your time. I can box them up when you're ready."@@ Samantha leans down beside you, her expression unusually unreadable. @@.samantha;"No pressure,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"But I //will// silently judge your taste forever based on this choice."@@ You side-eye her. @@.player;"Thanks for the support."@@ She smirks. @@.samantha;"Always."@@ You look back down at the options—each of them saying something different. It's time to choose. <<button "Choose some shoes to get" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha StepUp 3">><</button>>

<<if $shoeUnlock[2] isnot true and $shoeUnlock[3] isnot true and $shoeUnlock[7] isnot true and $shoeUnlock[8] isnot true>> <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ You stare at the lineup of shoes a moment longer—white butterflies, screaming neon, quiet flats, sleek matte low-tops. They're all fine. Great, even. But something in your chest is pulling tight in that subtle, invisible way it sometimes does. Like when you're standing in front of a shelf full of choices and none of them feel exactly right, even if they //should//. Not today. Not yet. You exhale and lean back on the bench. Samantha watches you with a flicker of something in her eyes—not disappointment, exactly, just awareness. You slip your own shoes back on and stand up. Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"No dice?"@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"They're nice, just... I don't think I'm ready to spend on something I'm not completely sure about."@@ She tilts her head slightly. @@.samantha;"Hey, no shame in walking away from a bad purchase. Or even a meh one. You'll know when it's the right pair."@@ As you turn toward the front of the store, the associate from earlier spots you and steps forward. His clipboard is still in hand and his smile is still polite, if just a little dimmer. @@.boy;"Find something you liked?"@@ You offer a small, apologetic smile. @@.player;"They were all great. I'm just gonna hold off for now."@@ He nods, clearly trained for this exact moment. @@.boy;"No worries. Happens all the time. Let us know if you changed your mind."@@ He says it cheerfully enough, but there's that tiny flicker of disappointment, the barely-there sag in his posture as he steps aside. You give him a small nod of thanks as you pass, Samantha right beside you. Once you're through the sliding glass door and back into the open pulse of the mall. Your shoulders ease a little. @@.samantha;"Well,"@@ Samantha begins, @@.samantha;"we didn't find your perfect shoe soulmate, but hey—there's plenty of stores in the mall to conquer."@@ You didn't leave with a new pair of shoes today—but that's okay. You went. You looked. Maybe next time you'll try again. And somehow, that feels like enough. <<else>>\ <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ You make your decision with a small breath through your nose, hand drifting to the pair that just feels right. You pick it up, letting your fingers glide along the edge one last time before you stand up. Samantha watches, arms still crossed, one brow raised like she's trying not to grin. @@.samantha;"So that's the winner, huh?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Feels like it."@@ @@.samantha;"Bold move,"@@ she says, inspecting the pair you picked. @@.samantha;"Courageous. Shoe critics will be divided for years."@@ You ignore her and head toward the front counter, carrying the box. The associate spots you approaching and perks up. @@.boy;"Found the one?"@@ he asks as he slides behind the register. @@.player;"Yep."@@ He nods, taking the box from your hands and flipping it open for a quick inspection. @@.boy;"Good choice."@@ He scans the tag, the price popping up on the small digital display with a confirming beep. You pull out your phone and double-click the side button. The tap of your device against the reader is met by a soft chime, followed be a cheerful "Payment Approved" on the screen. @@.boy;"Nice,"@@ he says, tucking tissue paper inside the box and closing the lid with practiced care. @@.boy;"You want the box in a bag or just like this?"@@ @@.player;"Bag, please."@@ He slides the shoebox into a paper bag with the StepUp logo embossed across the front. It crinkles lightly as he passes it to you. @@.boy;"Here you go. Hope you get some good wear out of them."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, adjusting the handles in your grip. Samantha joins you at the exit, glancing once at the bag, then at you. @@.samantha;"Ah, the sacred shoe ritual is complete. You've officially leveled up."@@ You look down at the bag. It's not //really// about the shoes. It's about the small, steady decisions that make you feel more ''you''. It's not a full reinvention, but it is a step. And isn't that //exactly// what shoes are for? <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp4 to true>>\ <<set $tempshoes to $shoes>>\ You and Samantha step into StepUp Footwear, and the store greets you with that distinct mix of new rubber soles, faux leather polish, and something vaguely citrusy that's probably meant to smell like "clean energy." Bright lighting reflects off the freshly waxed floors, and the walls are lined with neat, curated displays—runners, skaters, flats, and slip-ons all perfectly aligned like they're waiting to be scouted. Samantha exhales through her nose. @@.samantha;"God, I can already feel the pressure to be sporty just by //standing// in here."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"You're not sporty?"@@ @@.samantha;"I'm 'walks aggressively while trash talking my enemies' sporty,"@@ she replies, scanning the displays. @@.samantha;"Not //actual physical activity// sporty."@@ You make a beeline toward the sneaker wall, where a bright display labeled Vektix Collection catches your eye. The first pair you reach for are the ''Vektix BreezeAir Lows''—crisp white with delicate blue butterflies stitched along the sides, the pattern subtle enough to not feel loud, but detailed enough to feel special. The design almost shimmers under the overhead light. @@.samantha;"Oof,"@@ Samantha mutters. @@.samantha;"Those are dangerously close to cute."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Dangerously?"@@ @@.samantha;"Like... if I see you in those, I'll assume you own a pastel planner and know how to braid other people's hair. Which, to be clear, I fully support. I'm just saying, there's a whole vibe baked into those butterflies."@@ You glance down at the shoes, lips curving slightly. Yeah. They're a vibe. A few steps over, another pair screams for attention—''Vektix SwiftCharge Trainers''.These are practically vibrating with energy: jagged hot-pink soles, orange laces, and a glossy finish that almost feels like it should hum when you pick it up. Samantha squints at them like they just insulted her. @@.samantha;"Okay, what even is this. Did the color wheel explode?"@@ @@.player;"They're kind of cool."@@ @@.samantha;"They're a threat,"@@ she says, shaking her head. @@.samantha;"I feel like they'd just drag you into spontaneous parkour."@@ @@.player;"They do look fast."@@ @@.samantha;"No one wearing those bothers to walk, $name. They //dart//. They leap over benches and vault escalators."@@ You can't help but grin. @@.player;"So... not for you, then."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm allergic to cardio,"@@ Samantha says, giving you a flat look. You keep moving and land at a trio of ''SomaSoft Flats''—white, black, and brown. No branding, no frills. Just clean lines and quiet, reliable design. Samantha tilts her head. @@.samantha;"Ah, yes. The shoe equivalent of a tax form. Efficient. Reasonable. Emotionally neutral."@@ @@.player;"They go with everything, you know,"@@ you respond. @@.samantha;"Oh, I'm not judging,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Actually, I //am//, but with love. I know your style. You like pretending you're mysterious and understated. These are very 'Don't perceive me, but also I dress on purpose.'"@@ You shrug. She's not wrong. Then, tucked near the bottom row of a slightly recessed shelf, your eyes catch on a more hidden pair—''SeraForm Streetlace Lights''. Low-top, all white, matte finish, minimal in the best way. They don't scream. They don't beg for attention. But they're sharp—precise, even. Samantha leans in as you crouch for a closer look. @@.samantha;"Ooh. See, those are dangerous in a different way,"@@ she murmurs. @@.samantha;"Clean lines, sleek shape, total sleeper pick. You wear those, you're not trying to impress anyone—you're just inherently cool."@@ You straighten up and glance back at her. @@.player;"So what I'm hearing is you'll judge me no matter what I pick."@@ @@.samantha;"Obviously,"@@ she says with a grin. @@.samantha;"But I'll do it supportively. Like a friend who knows too much."@@ A store associate passes and nods politely. Samantha gestures toward the bench nearby, already nudging you toward it. @@.samantha;"Go on, Cinderella. Let's see if they fit."@@ Time to try something on. <<button "Try on the shoes" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha StepUp 1">><</button>>

<<if $temp6 is true>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ You linger near the rack, eyes drifting back to the display that's been calling your name since you first stepped foot into Threadz. There's something about it—bold colors, chaotic prints, designs that thread the line between cute and deranged. It shouldn't work. But somehow, it kind of does. Your fingers skim over a bright pink anime tee with a smug-looking girl kicking over the word "GAME OVER YOU LOSE." Her expression is a challenge. It's the kind of shirt that screams and dares you to scream with it. You glance at it, then at the mirror across the aisle, trying to picture it on you. It's a lot. And it's ''definitely'' kind of stupid. But also kind of great? Right next to it is another contender—a beige tee with a ridiculous ice cream cone full of cartoon guinea pigs. They all have cute eyes and blobby expressions like they have no idea how they got here. You let out a quiet snort through your nose. Samantha immediately peeks over your shoulder. @@.samantha;"Is that the one with the rodent sundae?"@@ she asks, practically vibrating with interest. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, its ''so'' dumb. I love it. Get that one."@@ You ignore her for now and pick up the third: a tan hoodie with a slightly faded butterfly across the chest. The drawstrings are uneven, and the sleeves are a dark brown. It already feels like something that would live on your desk chair. You shift all three over your arm. Samantha lets out a gasp like she's watching a plot twist unfold. @@.samantha;"Wait. Wait. Are you actually gonna try stuff on?"@@ You look at her, mildly bewildered. @@.player;"I mean... yeah? Maybe? Just to see."@@ Samantha clutches her heart dramatically. @@.samantha;"It's happening. This is a spiritual awakening. A fashion reawakening. You're finding your inner Threadz goblin."@@ @@.player;"You're making it weird,"@@ you mutter. @@.samantha;"Correct,"@@ she beams. @@.samantha;"Let me have this."@@ From somewhere behind the counter, Ash pokes his head out. @@.boy;"Fitting rooms are that way,"@@ he calls out, gesturing toward a hallway with glittery tape around the frame. @@.boy;"Second one's got decent lighting. Avoid the first one unless you like being jump-scared by your own reflection."@@ @@.samantha;"Thanks, Ash,"@@ Samantha chirps. You glance between them, then raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"So, you guys are... friends?"@@ Samantha grins, all teeth. @@.samantha;"Ash basically works every weekday. I come in so much they added me to their employee group chat. I think I'm still in there."@@ @@.boy;"She's Threadz royalty,"@@ Ash says, nodding. @@.boy;"Honorary shift lead."@@ @@.samantha;"Anyway, let's focus,"@@ Samantha says, steering you gently toward the changing rooms. @@.samantha;"Anime girls committing war crimes. Rodents. Butterflies. Pick your path."@@ You roll your eyes, but don't resist as you reach the hallway. Samantha gives you a double thumbs-up. @@.samantha;"I believe in you. Try all three. Let the fabric speak to you."@@ You snort but slip inside. The fitting room's small but surprisingly clean. The mirror is a little smudged, sure, but catches you fully. You hang the three tops on the hook, then pause, heart thudding in your chest. Okay. Here goes nothing. <<button "Try on clothes" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Threadz 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ You hover near the end of the aisle, the tag of a graphic tee still brushing your fingertips. The store buzzes around you—music thrumming in your chest, the faint chemical tang of synthetic, and Ash laughing softly at something Samantha said from across the room. The lights are loud. The energy's louder. You take a breath and step back. Samantha turns the moment you move. She's holding up a mesh crop top layered over a pastel tank with a pixel heart on the front. @@.samantha;"What about this one?"@@ she calls, hopeful. @@.samantha;"It's a little weird, sure, but in a good way."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"I think I'm good."@@ She frowns, clearly disappointed. @@.samantha;"Come on,"@@ she says, jogging the few steps over, her sneakers squeaking faintly on the floor. @@.samantha;"We literally ''just'' got here. You haven't even looked through the racks over in the back! That's where all the weird one-offs live. There might be something super cursed. You love cursed."@@ @@.player;"I'm just not really feeling it,"@@ you say, offering a weak smile. Samantha lets out a long, theatrical sigh—head tilted back, eyes closed like she's mourning a fallen comrade. Then she peeks one eye open at Ash across the store and calls out, @@.samantha;"Hey, Ash! My friend's being a fashion coward!"@@ Ash, still refolding shirts like his life depends on it, doesn't even bother to look up. @@.boy;"Cowardice is a valid aesthetic,"@@ he calls back. @@.player;"See?"@@ you say, already walking toward the door. @@.player;"Even your people agree."@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, they're not //my people//, they're just—ugh, whatever."@@ She trails behind you with all the enthusiasm of someone being dragged out of an amusement park before actually getting to do anything fun. You push open the door, the mall's softer lighting spilling across your sneakers. The sharp buzz of Threadz' fluorescent chaos fades behind you. Samantha doesn't follow right away. You turn, expecting her to be right at your side, but instead she's lingering in the doorway. She turns her head just slightly to look back at the store, one hand still gripping the handle like she's not quite ready to let go. @@.samantha;"Goodbye, sweet prince,"@@ she murmurs. @@.player;"...Are you seriously talking to the store?"@@ She doesn't answer. Just gives a solemn nod and finally steps back out into the mall like it physically pains her. You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You okay?"@@ @@.samantha;"I'll survive,"@@ she says, dramatic as ever. @@.samantha;"But just so you know, I'm putting 'Refused To Try On Even One Graphic Tee' on your gravestone."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Fair. Just make sure they carve it in Comic Sans."@@ She glares. @@.samantha;"Now you're just being disrespectful."@@ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $pants is 69 and $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <</if>>\ <<paperdoll>> <<button "Pink Graphic Tee">>\<<set $top to 13>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Butterfly Hoodie">>\<<set $top to 17>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Guinea Pig Shirt">>\<<set $top to 23>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Threadz 3">><</button>>

<<if $topUnlock[13] isnot true and $topUnlock[17] isnot true and $topUnlock[23] isnot true>>\ The fitting room curtain shushes closed behind you as you emerge, fully dressed once again in the same clothes you were wearing when you entered.The three potential new additions to your wardrobe are neatly draped over your arm. Samantha perks up the second she sees you. She's seated dramatically on a bench near the accessory wall, spinning a choker around one finger like a villain awaiting news of a conquest. @@.samantha;"So?"@@ she asks, eyes bright. @@.samantha;"What's the verdict?"@@ You hesitate. Then sigh. @@.player;"Sam, I don't think I'm gonna get any of them."@@ Her face falls in a way that's so exaggerated it circles right back around to funny. @@.samantha;"What?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"They just didn't feel right. I don't know."@@ @@.samantha;"But you looked good in them! The hoodie gave you mysterious loner energy. The guinea pig shirt was quirky. And the pink one? It was practically daring the world to fight you."@@ @@.player;"I don't //want// the world to fight me,"@@ you say, placing down the tops gently. @@.player;"I want the world to leave me alone and maybe offer me a pretzel."@@ @@.samantha;"You are ''such'' a plain bagel sometimes,"@@ Samantha mutters, her voice filled with the kind of despair usually reserved for anime that don't get more than one season. @@.player;"I just didn't feel like me in any of them,"@@ you say, attempting diplomacy. @@.player;"Or maybe I did, but it was like... the version of me that would immediately get shoved into a locker."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh my God, that's the whole damn ''point'', $name!"@@ she cries. @@.samantha;"They were statement pieces. You're supposed to wear them like armor or a threat."@@ @@.player;"A very loud, cartoonish threat,"@@ you offer. Samantha groans and plants her face in her hands. @@.samantha;"I hyped this up too much. I should've started you with the neutral stuff. Eased you in with a spooky moth tank top."@@ @@.player;"I do like moths,"@@ you admit. She peeks up at you between her fingers. @@.samantha;"You'll be back soon. You //will//. I will get you to leave this mall in something that actually looks good. Not the shit that NovaTrend sells."@@ You roll your eyes, but smile. @@.player;"Is this how you talk to all your shopping buddies?"@@ @@.samantha;"Only the ones I love,"@@ she replies without missing a beat, hopping up. @@.samantha;"Alright. Let's get you out of here before Ash sees you returning //everything// and puts your face on the 'stylistically hopeless' wall."@@ You glance over your shoulder. Ash does not appear to be watching. He is, in fact, trying to wrangle a mannequin into a crop top that clearly wasn't designed for plastic limbs. You silently wish him strength. You and Samantha head for the exit. As you pass the hoodie rack, she lets out a soft, wistful sigh and touches a sleeve like she's saying goodbye to a dear friend. You glance over. @@.player;"You good?"@@ @@.samantha;"I just... I had dreams for you,"@@ she says solemnly. @@.samantha;"You were gonna emerge from that store a transformed being. A butterfly in a graphic tee."@@ @@.player;"Instead I remain a sad little caterpillar,"@@ you say, patting your own chest. She narrows eyes. @@.samantha;"A ''coward'' caterpillar."@@ @@.player;"Caterpillars don't even //wear// clothes,"@@ you argue. @@.samantha;"They //would//, if they had the chance,"@@ she snaps back. You open the doors, and the fluorescent chaos of Threadz fades behind you as you step back into the mall proper. Samantha throws one last dramatic glance over her shoulder, whispering, @@.samantha;"Someday..."@@ like she's in a telenovela. You keep walking. @@.player;"Stop being weird."@@ @@.samantha;"Never."@@ <<else>>\ You step out of the fitting room with the clothes folded neatly over one arm, your hair slightly mussed and a strange lightness in your chest that you can't quite explain. Samantha is waiting just outside, leaning dramatically against a rack of crop tops like she's about to faint from hunger or boredom. The moment she sees you, she perks up. @@.samantha;"Sooooo? Spill. Did the butterfly speak to you? Did the guinea pigs whisper their secrets? Did the anime girl tell you to embrace chaos?"@@ You shoot her a dry look. @@.player;"One of them might've tried to kill me."@@ @@.samantha;"So you liked them,"@@ Samantha says, grinning. @@.player;"I didn't say that."@@ @@.samantha;"You didn't //have// to. You're glowing."@@ @@.player;"I'm not glowing."@@ @@.samantha;"You ''so'' are."@@ You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with a reluctant smirk. @@.player;"Okay, fine. I liked them more than I thought I would."@@ <<if $acceptance > 19>>\ Samantha clasps her hands over her heart. @@.samantha;"My disaster. My sweet, beautiful, fashionably confused disaster. I knew you had it in you."@@ <<else>>\ Samantha clasps her hands over her heart. @@.samantha;"My boy. My sweet, beautiful, fashionably confused boy. I knew you had it in you."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"You act like I climbed Everest,"@@ you mutter. @@.samantha;"You emotionally climbed Threadz,"@@ she says, dead serious. @@.samantha;"That's harder."@@ Ash reappears just in time, arms full of socks and chaos. @@.boy;"Hey, did we settle on a winner?"@@ You glance down at the pile in your arms. @@.player;"I think I'm good."@@ Ash nods solemnly. @@.boy;"A fine haul. Let's get you cashed out."@@ The register beeps as he scans your selections—though he doesn't comment on what you chose, only gives you a small, knowing smile like he gets it. @@.boy;"That'll be—"@@ he pauses to tap a few buttons, @@.boy;"a very reasonable number for the identity crisis you just resolved."@@ You pull out your phone and tap it against the reader. The little //ding// of confirmation feels more satisfying than it should. Behind you, Samantha lets out a soft, triumphant @@.samantha;"yes"@@ under her breath. Ash hands you the bag. @@.boy;"May these garments bring you emotional stability and drip."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Thanks?"@@ @@.boy;"Go forth and slay, or whatever people say nowadays,"@@ he says, then immediately trips over a lanyard on the floor and yells, @@.boy;"I meant to do that."@@ Samantha snorts and grabs your arm. @@.samantha;"Alright, trendsetter. Let's go before Ash accidentally summons a demon from the clearance bin."@@ You push open the door, the mall's softer lighting spilling across your sneakers. The sharp buzz of Threadz' fluorescent chaos fades behind you. You look at Samantha. She's smiling, smug in that way only she can pull off without being punchable. @@.samantha;"Proud of you,"@@ she says. You pause. @@.player;"Really?"@@ She shrugs. @@.samantha;"Yeah. Seriously. I know you didn't have to. But you did."@@ You walk in silence for a moment. Then you say, @@.player;"Well, you //were// really annoying about it."@@ @@.samantha;"Obviously,"@@ she says brightly. @@.samantha;"Annoying //works//."@@ And maybe she's right—because you don't feel like the same $name who walked into that store. Not entirely. Maybe just enough to matter. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp3 to true>>\ Threadz hits you the second you step in. The music is a wall of fuzzy synth and punchy drums—somewhere between alt-pop and a caffeine overdose. The lighting's even harsher than the mall—bright overhead fluorescents that buzz faintly and wash everything in a slightly-too-white glow. The air smells like a mix of synthetic cotton, body spray, and something sharp that might be deodorant—or regret. Samantha practically skips inside. @@.samantha;"Oh my God. I'm home,"@@ she sighs, throwing her arms out like she's entering a holy space. @@.samantha;"Threadz, my beloved. You smell like chaos and social anxiety."@@ You glance around, still catching up. @@.player;"It's like if the internet had a very enthusiastic child."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly!"@@ she beams, spinning slightly on her heel. @@.samantha;"Threadz doesn't make clothes, $name. It makes ''statements''. Like, this place understands that sometimes you need to dress like a cartoon character having a crisis."@@ And honestly, she fits in perfectly. Her usual outfit could've walked straight off one of the mannequins: layered striped sleeves under a graphic tee, baggy high-waisted jeans cinched with a yellow "CAUTION: KEEP OUT" keychain belt, chunky sneakers with mismatched laces, and a beanie pinned with a smiley face and an alien. She's not trying to match the store—she simply //is// the store. Like some walking ambassador for chaos with charm. You watch her bounce over to a display table labeled "Mild Anarchy." It's piled with distressed hoodies, enamel pins that say things like "Emotionally Unavailable But Still Hot," and sticker packs featuring haunted toasters and blushing devils. She holds up a mesh long-sleeve top and wiggles her eyebrows. @@.samantha;"This, but over a tank top, under a denim vest, with plaid pants and combat boots?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"That's oddly specific."@@ @@.samantha;"That's oddly //correct//,"@@ she fires back, tossing it onto the growing pile in her arms. A guy about your age with dyed blue hair and chipped black nail polish glances up from where he's crouched, refolding a haphazard stack of oversized tees. His name tag reads "Ash (he/him) - Certified Chaos Consultant." Without missing a beat, he throws up a lazy peace sign. @@.boy;"Let me know if you start spiraling about which graphic tee defines your soul,"@@ he says, voice flat but weirdly warm. It's the kind of sentence that sounds like a joke, but also kind of like a real service they offer here. Before you can respond, Samantha lights up. @@.samantha;"Ash! Oh my God, you're working today?"@@ Ash's expression softens into something like a smirk. @@.boy;"Sam, hey. You back to haunt the hoodie wall?"@@ She grins. @@.samantha;"Obviously. Like you even have to ask."@@ They fist-bump. You blink. @@.player;"Wait... you two know each other?"@@ Samantha glances over at you like you just asked if water is wet. @@.samantha;"Yeah, duh. I basically live here."@@ Ash nods, lazily tossing a refolded shirt onto the shelf. @@.boy;"She's a Threadz regular. Keeper of the fitting room. Defier of bland fashion."@@ Samantha does a little mock bow. You stare at them for a second, then mutter, @@.player;"How do you have a whole lore with the retail staff?"@@ Ash just shrugs, pulling a bin of belt chains off the floor like this is all completely normal. @@.boy;"Some of us have lives, man."@@ You drift forward toward a rack labeled, "Not Quite Coping," your fingers brushing over a hoodie that says "Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come to Terms with Myself." There's something strangely honest about everything here. Like the clothes aren't even pretending to be normal. Samantha pops up beside you with another tee, this one reading "I Know the Vibes Are Off, I Made Them That Way." She raises her eyebrows. @@.samantha;"Bro, this is basically your autobiography."@@ You snort. @@.player;"You're one to talk. Your beanie has more mood swings than I do."@@ She salutes, then tilts her head toward the fitting rooms. @@.samantha;"You gonna try anything? Or just stare at the fashion trauma pile all day?"@@ The music shifts to something glitchy and weirdly soulful. The store hums around you like it's waiting. Hell, maybe you //will// try something. <<button "Try some tops on" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Threadz 1">>\<<set $temp6 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_temp6" "Try some tops on" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide to leave" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha Threadz 1">>\<<set $temp6 to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_temp6" "Decide to leave" "story">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "ShoppingSamantha">>\ You stare at your phone for longer than you probably should. It's lying face-up on your blanket, the black screen reflecting the ceiling. You pick it up, go to your contacts, and wait. Your thumb hovers over Samantha's name like it might explode if you press it. You //could// still go with your mom. She's in the laundry room right now, humming something as she folds towels. You're pretty sure she'd be happy if you said yes. Maybe a little too happy. But something in you keeps pulling back to the other option. The one who kept you up a few weeks ago, texting in all caps about why men's shampoo has the weirdest names. ''Samantha 🧨'' Her contact stares at you almost mockingly. With a burst of confidence, you hit call before you can change your mind. @@.samantha;"$name?"@@ she answers immediately. @@.samantha;"Is this a real call that you initiated or am I hallucinating? Blink twice if you're being held hostage."@@ You snort, flopping back onto your bed. @@.player;"Hey. Uh, quick question."@@ @@.samantha;"If it's about how to wash jeans, the answer is rarely. And with a ''lot'' of fear."@@ @@.player;"No, not that,"@@ you respond, laughing. @@.player;"I was actually wondering... do you still wanna go shopping today?"@@ There's a beat. Then: @@.samantha;"Oh my God. Did you just ask me out?"@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Samantha."@@ @@.samantha;"No, no, it's fine, I'm flattered,"@@ she continues, voice full of mock-seriousness. @@.samantha;"I always knew you'd come crawling to me eventually. Could be my charm. Could be the fact that I'm the only one who can fix your sense of style. Hard to say."@@ You're already kind of regretting this—but also kind of not. @@.player;"So is that a yes?"@@ @@.samantha;"$name."@@ Her voice drops into something more genuine, though there's still a grin behind it. @@.samantha;"I have been waiting for this moment since you showed up to a hangout in that fucking button-up with //cacti// on it. I still have nightmares."@@ @@.player;"It was thematic,"@@ you mutter. @@.samantha;"It was a fashion crime,"@@ she fires back. @@.samantha;"But today, redemption begins. I'm already putting on shoes."@@ @@.player;"You own shoes that aren't those beat-up sneakers?"@@ @@.samantha;"I'll pretend I didn't hear that,"@@ she replies breezily. @@.samantha;"Give me twenty minutes. I'll bring snacks. Emotional support gummies."@@ You smile despite yourself. @@.player;"I think I'll need them."@@ @@.samantha;"Trust me, you //will//. Dressing rooms are psychological battlegrounds. You've got to go in mentally prepared."@@ You exhale, the kind of quiet breath you hadn't realize you'd been holding. @@.player;"Thanks, Sam."@@ There's a pause. Not a dramatic one—just a moment where the sarcasm lets up, just long enough to let something real peek through. @@.samantha;"Hey,"@@ she says, softer now. @@.samantha;"You're actually letting me help with something. I'm not gonna make fun of that."@@ @@.player;"You ''literally'' already are."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, sure, but like, lovingly,"@@ she corrects. @@.samantha;"That's different."@@ You smile into the phone. @@.player;"Right."@@ @@.samantha;"You'll see. We'll find you stuff that feels like you. Not like 'Samantha's Weird Magical Makeover Show'—unless you //want// that, in which case I have glitter."@@ @@.player;"No glitter,"@@ you say quickly. @@.samantha;"One day,"@@ she says with menace. @@.samantha;"One day, you'll know its power."@@ You hear the rustling of fabric in the background and the telltale sound of her talking to her cat—probably apologizing for disturbing its nap. @@.samantha;"Okay, leaving now. Prepare yourself. Also—wear socks that aren't raggedy. If I spot a toe hole, I swear—"@@ @@.player;"Bye!"@@ @@.samantha;"See you soon, Mr. Capsule Wardrobe,"@@ she sings, then hangs up. You lie there a moment longer, staring at the ceiling, phone resting on your chest. This is happening. You're going shopping with Samantha. You're either about to become a whole new person, or get roasted into oblivion in front of a fitting room mirror. ...Could go either way, honestly. <<button "Let Mom know" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha 1">><</button>>

You stare at Samantha's contact for a good ten seconds after the call with Jessica ends, the phone warm in your hand. You're not going to tell her about Jessica. You can already imagine the commentary, and you need some time before she starts grilling you about the queen bee. With a deep breath, you press call. @@.samantha;"$name?"@@ she answers immediately, like she's been waiting for a reason to pounce. @@.samantha;"Is this a real call that you initiated, or am I hallucinating? You gonna start mailing handwritten letters? Blink twice if you've been replaced by an alien."@@ You roll your eyes, flopping backward onto your bed. @@.player;"Hi to you too."@@ @@.samantha;"Uh-oh,"@@ she says, instantly suspicious. @@.samantha;"You have that voice. The one that means you're about to ask me for something."@@ @@.player;"I do //not// have a voice."@@ @@.samantha;"You totally do,"@@ she shoots back. @@.samantha;"Spill it."@@ You exhale, smiling despite yourself. @@.player;"Do you still wanna go shopping today?"@@ There's a beat of silence, then: @@.samantha;"Oh my God. Did you just accept my offer? Did I win? Are you okay? Do I need to check your temperature?"@@ @@.player;"I'm perfectly fine."@@ @@.samantha;"I don't think you are. This is a huge day. This is, like, bigger than your birthday. Hold on, let me write this in my diary: 'Today, $name finally admitted his wardrobe is a war crime.'"@@ You groan. @@.player;"Sam—"@@ @@.samantha;"No, no, this is important,"@@ she interrupts, all mock-seriousness now. @@.samantha;"Today, we put an end to the White T-Shirt and Cargo Shorts Era. Generations will speak of this."@@ You think about what you've worn the past few years—white T-shirt, cargo shorts, socks with holes in them—and mutter, @@.player;"They're comfortable."@@ @@.samantha;"They're an abomination,"@@ she corrects without missing a beat. @@.samantha;"But don't worry. Redemption begins today. Where are we going first? Do you want, like, a whole new aesthetic? Skater, maybe. I'm thinking layers. People who know fashion always wear layers."@@ @@.player;"Can we just start with something that's //not// embarrassing?"@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, we're going way beyond that,"@@ she says, and you can practically hear the grin in her voice. @@.samantha;"I want people to look at you and think, 'Wow, he has layers. Emotionally and literally.'"@@ You try to groan, but end up laughing. @@.player;"This was a mistake."@@ @@.samantha;"You're damn right it was, but you're stuck with me now."@@ Her voice dips, just for a moment, into something more genuine. @@.samantha;"Seriously, though, I'm glad you're coming. I know you were on the fence."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I just thought it might be good to get out."@@ @@.samantha;"Understatement of the year,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"We're gonna make a whole day out of it. I'll be judgement-free... well, mostly so. I promise to only make fun of you when you deserve it."@@ @@.player;"So all the time?"@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Anyway, give me twenty minutes. Prepare yourself. This is gonna be fun."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Sam."@@ There's a pause. @@.samantha;"Hey,"@@ she says, tone suddenly softer. @@.samantha;"You're actually letting me help with something. I'm not gonna make fun of that."@@ @@.player;"You ''literally'' already are."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, sure, but like, lovingly,"@@ she corrects. @@.samantha;"That's different."@@ You smile into the phone. @@.player;"Right."@@ @@.samantha;"See you soon, Captain Cargo Shorts."@@ You laugh, shaking your head as the call clicks off. Your room feels lighter somehow. Between Samantha's chaotic excitement and Jessica actually agreeing to come, it feels like today might actually be good. You set the phone on your chest, staring up at the ceiling. This is happening. You're going shopping. And for the first time in a while, you're actually kind of looking forward to it. <<button "Let Mom know" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 2">>\<</button>>

The moment the store door closes behind you, the atmosphere changes completely. It's warmer inside than the mall corridor, tinged with floral perfume and a soft trace of vanilla that seems baked into the walls. The lighting is low and warm, the kind that makes everything look softer, slower. Even the way the displays are arranged feels intentional—gentle and careful, like the whole place is trying to wrap you in a quiet hug. Lace and cotton bralettes line the walls in neat pastel rows, some folded, some hung. A few mannequins stand nearby in coordinated sets, posed like they know exactly what they're doing here. Jessica walks ahead, her stride as easy as if she's been here a dozen times. She glances back at you with an encouraging smile. @@.jessica;"See? Not so scary,"@@ she says softly, holding the door open for Samantha, who saunters in like she owns the place. @@.samantha;"This is cozy,"@@ Samantha remarks, glancing around. @@.samantha;"I could live here. Way better than those nightmare stores with blinding lights."@@ You hang back a step, feeling awkward among so many soft, delicate displays. Every mannequin seems to be judging you for not belonging, but Jessica catches your hesitation and says, @@.jessica;"You belong here just as much as anyone else."@@ Behind the counter stands a woman in her late twenties, sleek hair pulled into a bun, sorting neatly wrapped hangers into bins. Her nametag reads Riley. She looks up when she notices you, and her face brightens into an easy smile. @@.girl;"Hi there,"@@ Riley says, setting the last hanger aside and walking around the counter. @@.girl;"What brings you in today?"@@ You open your mouth, but Jessica jumps in with practiced ease. @@.jessica;"We're here to get our friend fitted. First time."@@ She gestures at you. Riley nods as if she hears this every day, her expression never flickering into anything but warm professionalism. @@.girl;"Of course,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"We'll just get some measurements and bring out a few starter styles. Nothing too tight or loose, nothing itchy. Comfort is the priority."@@ You nod, the tension in your chest loosening slightly at her tone. @@.jessica;"Perfect,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"We're looking for something soft. Wireless, maybe. Something that can be worn under pretty much anything."@@ @@.girl;"Got it,"@@ Riley says, already motioning for you to follow. @@.girl;"We've got everything here. Let me know if there are any fabrics or styles you absolutely hate. Or even any that you like. Do you have any preferences?"@@ You shake your head, unsure where to even start. Samantha steps in. @@.samantha;"What about those ones that feel like you're wearing clouds but actually keep everything in place? For a very particular person whose back deserves kindness."@@ You shoot her a look. @@.player;"You mean me."@@ She gives you a wide-eyed, innocent grin. @@.samantha;"I would //never// name names."@@ Riley chuckles and stops in front of a row of fitting room doors, each with a tiny sign hung from the hook outside. Thankfully, all of them are empty. @@.girl;"This one's open and good to go,"@@ she says, opening up a door to reveal a cozy space inside—cream-colored walls, lighting that doesn't feel cruel, a plush bench, and a mirror. You hover in the doorway, heart beating a little faster. It's just a fitting room, but there's something strange about stepping into this space. Like you're crossing a line you can't uncross. Jessica notices the hesitation and touches your arm lightly. @@.jessica;"Hey,"@@ she says softly. @@.jessica;"It's okay. You're not doing this alone. We're right here."@@ Samantha steps up beside her, leaning in just enough so that nobody can eavesdrop. @@.samantha;"Yeah. Look, this can be weird the first time, but you don't have to do it solo if you don't want to."@@ Jessica tilts her head toward the fitting room, giving you that warm reassuring smile again. @@.jessica;"I can come in with you, help you figure out what you like."@@ @@.samantha;"Or I can,"@@ Samantha adds quickly. @@.samantha;"Keep it simple."@@ @@.jessica;"I mean, if you want it, both of us can come in,"@@ Jessica says smoothly. @@.jessica;"Whatever makes you most comfortable. No pressure either way."@@ The door is in front of you, the little fitting room waiting. And now... it's up to you. <<button "Go in alone" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 11">>\<<set $d18samjessbrastorecompany to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samjessbrastorecompany" "Go in alone" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask for Samantha to come with you" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 11">>\<<set $d18samjessbrastorecompany to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samjessbrastorecompany" "Ask for Samantha to come with you" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask for Jessica to come with you" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 11">>\<<set $d18samjessbrastorecompany to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samjessbrastorecompany" "Ask for Jessica to come with you" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Ask for Samantha and Jessica to come with you" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 11">>\<<set $d18samjessbrastorecompany to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samjessbrastorecompany" "Ask for Samantha and Jessica to come with you" "rel">><</button>>

<<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $topoff to true>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<if $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 0>>\ You take a deep breath, staring at the softly lit fitting room. The weight of their offers lingers, but in the end, you shake your head. @@.player;"I think I need to do this alone,"@@ you say quietly, glancing between them. @@.player;"I appreciate it. Really. But I think it'll be better if I just... figure it out myself first."@@ @@.jessica;"Of course,"@@ Jessica says, her expression softening immediately. @@.jessica;"Take your time. We'll be right out here if you need anything."@@ Samantha gives you a short nod. @@.samantha;"Yeah. Yell if you need me to make jokes at your expense to break the tension."@@ You manage a small smile at that, and it seems to put both of them at ease. Jessica steps back, giving you space. @@.jessica;"You've got this."@@ With a final steadying breath, you step into the fitting room. The door closes softly closed behind you, leaving you alone in the quiet, warm little space. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You pull your top off slowly, already feeling the pressure from the tight, black binder beneath it. It clings to your chest, compressing everything into place like armor. It's familiar, and you've been relying on it for a while now. It works for the most part. But standing under this soft lighting, in this space that's supposed to be about fit and comfort, the way the binder presses into your ribs, suddenly feeling too sharp. Too restrictive. You twist side to side, stretching a little, wincing as the fabric digs in. You catch your reflection in the mirror. The binder gives you shape, or rather, takes shape away. But it also takes ease with it. You don't hate it, but you're not sure if you want to keep wearing something that hurts to feel okay. <<else>>\ You tug your top over your head slowly, wincing as the rough knot of fabric digs into your ribs. The towel you've wrapped around your chest is tight—too tight—but it's the only thing you have. As you undo the makeshift binding, the pressure lifts suddenly, leaving behind a dull ache and a faint red mark. You look at yourself in the mirror and feel both exposed and strangely relieved. The towel was always a temporary solution. You knew that. It was never meant to last, it was just supposed to get you here. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ Your shirt comes off easily, the fabric light over your still-flat chest. There's no curve to hide. Your torso is smooth and angular, the way it's always been, even as everything else seems to keep shifting around you. You glance at your reflection, expecting to feel small. But you don't. Not quite. You don't need a bra for support, at least not yet. But you're here anyway, and it never hurts to get one just in case. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ You lift your top and tug it off in one smooth motion, revealing the snug band of your sports bra underneath. It's plain, and was a gift from someone who thought you'd need it. It does the job, pressing down just enough that you don't think about it too much during the day. You glance at the mirror and run your fingers under the band. It's not uncomfortable, but it's not great either. It's... functional. But you want comfortable. <<else>>\ You pull your shirt over your head slowly, revealing your bare chest underneath. You don't have a bra, or a binder, or anything. Your breasts are soft and visible, a quiet presence that's been increasingly harder to ignore. You came here for a reason. To stop pretending this isn't happening and to be comfortable. Maybe it's time to stop pretending that real is something to be afraid of. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ There's a gentle knock on the door. @@.girl;"Hey, it's Riley,"@@ comes her calm voice. @@.girl;"Ready for me to come in for the fitting?"@@ You swallow, barely managing a quiet, @@.player;"Yeah."@@ The door opens and Riley steps inside with a soft smile and a flexible measuring tape looped around her neck. She closes the door gently behind her, moving with a practiced confidence. It's clear she's done this a thousand times and isn't about to make it weird. @@.girl;"No stress,"@@ she says lightly. @@.girl;"It'll just be two quick measurements—should only take a second. Relax your arms for me?"@@ You nod and stand a little straighter, heart fluttering just beneath your skin. <<if $breastsProg is 3>>\ Riley starts with the band measurement—firm but gentle as she wraps the tape beneath your chest. Then she moves upward, looping it carefully around the fullest part of your chest. You feel the heat in your cheeks rise. There is ''definitely'' no hiding the size now. Riley finishes and pulls back with a nod. @@.girl;"You're measuring at a 36B,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"That means you'll probably want medium support—something with shaping, maybe a soft underwire. But there's no pressure to go structured unless you want it."@@ You blink. @@.player;"B?"@@ you repeat in a whisper. @@.girl;"Yep,"@@ she says, unfazed. @@.girl;"That's totally normal. You don't have to hide anything, but you don't have to show anything either. Just choose what feels right to you."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"That... helps."@@ <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ Riley wraps the measuring tape beneath your chest first, the soft edge resting against your ribs. She calls out the band size, then moves it upward, gently looping it across the curve of your chest. There's just enough pressure to feel, not enough to squeeze. You can't help noticing how much //more// there is than there used to be. She just reads the number, pulls back, and smiles. @@.girl;"You're a 34A,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Which means you've got some shape but you're still in the lighter support zone. I'll bring you soft cups, maybe one with some lining if you're curious about it."@@ You nod, arms hovering awkwardly at your sides. @@.girl;"You've got options here,"@@ she adds. @@.girl;"You don't have to hide anything, but you don't have to show anything either. Just choose what feels right to you."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"That... helps."@@ <<else>>\ Riley steps in front of you and wraps the measuring tape around your ribcage, right beneath your chest. It settles there without any resistance—just skin and bone, no curve to measure. She calls out a quiet number under her breath before shifting the tape upward across the flattest part of your chest. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, straightening. @@.girl;"You're measuring around a 32AA. That puts you in a flat-fit or soft bralette category. Just something comfortable and light."@@ You nod, exhaling slowly. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 1>>\ You take a breath, staring at the softly lit fitting room, then glance between the two of them. @@.player;"I think I'd like Samantha to come in with me,"@@ you say, your voice quieter than you expected. @@.player;"If that's okay."@@ Jessica doesn't miss a beat. Her expression stays warm and understanding. @@.jessica;"Of course,"@@ she says softly, nodding. @@.jessica;"Whatever makes you comfortable. I'll be right out here."@@ Samantha gives you a little smirk. @@.samantha;"See? Knew I was the comforting part."@@ You manage a faint laugh at that. Jessica steps back to give you space, flashing you a supportive smile. @@.jessica;"You've got this. Take your time."@@ With that, you step into the fitting room, Samantha slipping in behind you. The door closes shut, blocking out the soft hum of the store and leaving you in the quiet, warm little space together. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You pull your top up and over your head, the fabric catching slightly at the shoulders before slipping off. The air in the fitting room feels cooler against your skin. Underneath, the snug compression fabric clings close—flattening everything into a shape that almost passes for what you used to look like. You've gotten used to it—how it limits your movement, how it hugs too tight under your arms—but standing here, under soft lights, it suddenly feels more obvious Samantha exhales low, eyes flicking to it, then to your face. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ she says, tone unreadable for a second. Then it softens. @@.samantha;"So you //have// been dealing with this on hard mode."@@ You don't say anything at first. She crosses her arms and leans against the wall. @@.samantha;"Well, it's done its job,"@@ she says after a beat. @@.samantha;"But we're absolutely getting you out of that thing and into something that doesn't feel like a medieval chest trap."@@ You manage a weak smile. @@.player;"I'm used to it."@@ @@.samantha;"Doesn't mean you should have to be,"@@ she replies, and there's no sarcasm in her voice this time—just her, steady and present. @@.samantha;"Let's find you something that lets you breathe."@@ <<else>>\ The shirt peels off awkwardly, catching a little where it's tucked into the towel wrapped tight around your chest. It's fraying near the edge, the knot in the back tied just right to hold firm but not cut off your circulation—hopefully. It's not elegant. Not safe. Just what you have. Samantha stares for a second, blinking. Then her expression twists, eyebrows shooting up, mouth already halfway to a word that dies before it's fully formed. @@.samantha;"...That's a ''towel'',"@@ she says, pointing like she's spotted a health code violation in a restaurant. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you mutter, avoiding her eyes. @@.player;"I didn't have anything else."@@ She takes a breath, tapping her foot. @@.samantha;"Okay. First of all—creative. Truly. But also? $name. Bestie. //No.//"@@ You almost laugh at the string of emotions—somewhere between horrified and disappointed. @@.samantha;"You wrapped a towel around yourself like a snack burrito. No wonder you've been walking weird."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It worked."@@ @@.samantha;"Sure. And I //could// use duct tape as eyeliner, and it //would// work, but that doesn't mean I //should//."@@ She looks at you again, really looks, and her voice dips a little. @@.samantha;"Let's get you something that won't try to suffocate you, yeah?"@@ You nod, and she grins faintly. @@.samantha;"That's what I thought."@@ <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ You lift your shirt up and over your head in one smooth motion. The air hits your skin—cool, comfortable. There's nothing underneath—no compression, no support gear. Just... you. And despite everything, your chest is still flat. Still unchanged. Samantha watches for a second, her expression unreadable. Then she blinks. @@.samantha;"Huh."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.samantha;"You know, I was ready for, like, something dramatic. Some boobs, I don't know. But you're just..."@@ She gestures vaguely. @@.samantha;"Still doing your thing."@@ You glance at your reflection. @@.player;"I guess I haven't changed much. Not there, anyway."@@ Samantha nods. @@.samantha;"Hey, that's fine. Not a problem, just... good to know. Means we don't have to go full support mode today, but we can still get you something soft and comfy. Never hurts to have options."@@ You tilt your head. @@.player;"You're not gonna make me try on lace?"@@ @@.samantha;"I'm not //that// much of a monster,"@@ she says, scoffing. @@.samantha;"I was thinking cotton. Maybe in beige."@@ You laugh—and it actually feels easy. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ You peel off your top, slow and careful. Underneath, the sports bra clings to you—simple, black, no-frills. It's stretched out in places and not exactly made for... what you've got now, but it does the job. Mostly. The straps dig in a little. It's fine. You've dealt with worse. Samantha's eyes flick over it once, then she lets out a breath like she's been holding it since you walked in. @@.samantha;"Okay. that's something. Functional. Practical. Slightly tragic."@@ You shoot her a look. @@.player;"It was free."@@ @@.samantha;"Let me guess—hand-me-down from someone who runs track and doesn't believe in labels?"@@ You smirk. @@.player;"Something like that."@@ She steps closer and tugs gently at one strap, then lets it snap back. @@.samantha;"That thing's probably older than both of us. You deserve better."@@ @@.player;"It works."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, but so do rotary phones and VHS tapes,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Doesn't mean we're gonna bring them back."@@ She gives your shoulder a quick, reassuring nudge. @@.samantha;"Let's upgrade you to something that doesn't scream 2008."@@ <<else>>\ You pull off your top slowly, suddenly hyper-aware of every movement, every shift in fabric. Your chest is bare underneath—no binder, no layers, no protection. Just skin, soft and real, and no longer something you can ignore or hide. The cool air touches you differently now. You feel exposed. Not in a bad way, just... raw. You don't look at the mirror right away. You don't look at Samantha either. She's quiet for a beat, then her voice comes, gentler than you expected. @@.samantha;"Okay. Wow."@@ You brace yourself. @@.samantha;"Look at you,"@@ she says, not teasing. Not laughing. Just... observing. @@.samantha;"Walking around like this isn't a big deal. That's some grade-A bravery."@@ You finally glance at her. She's not gawking. Just watching. There's a softness in her eyes, like she's been handed something fragile and knows better than to squeeze. You try to joke. @@.player;"Figured I'd let gravity take the wheel."@@ She snorts. @@.samantha;"Gravity's rude. We'll find you something that fights back."@@ Then she adds, quieter. @@.samantha;"And something that makes you feel okay looking at yourself."@@ You nod, slowly. A little unsteady. But glad she's here. She flashes you a half-grin. @@.samantha;"Alright. Let's get measured and fix this."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ There's a soft knock on the fitting room door—two quick raps, light and practiced. @@.girl;"Hey,"@@ comes Riley's voice from the other side, calm and warm. @@.girl;"You two ready for me to come in?"@@ You look up, startled out of your own thoughts. The mirror catches the faint tension in your shoulders, the way your fingers are still curled loosely at your sides. Samantha, sitting cross-legged on the bench now, glances at you instead of the door. Her voice is quieter than usual, but still unmistakably her. @@.samantha;"Are you?"@@ You nod once, steadying your breath. @@.player;"Yeah. I'm ready."@@ She nods back like that settles it. @@.samantha;"Come on in,"@@ she calls toward the door. The knob turns gently, and Riley steps inside with the kind of ease that makes you feel like she's done this a hundred times before—because she has. She doesn't make a show of looking around, doesn't blink twice at Samantha sitting on the bench or at you standing by the mirror. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, smile still soft. @@.girl;"Thanks for waiting. We'll take this one step at a time, okay? Nothing uncomfortable, and you can stop me whenever."@@ You nod again, and Riley closes the door behind her with a quiet click. She pulls a measuring tape from around her neck and straightens slightly, giving you just enough space without feeling distant. @@.girl;"Let's start with a few easy measurements,"@@ she says gently. @@.girl;"You can just relax."@@ You try. <<if $breastsProg is 3>>\ Riley steps closer, her hands steady and sure as she unwraps the measuring tape and gently loops it around your back. @@.girl;"Alright, just breathe normally,"@@ she says, her tone even and calm. @@.girl;"This part's quick."@@ You feel the cool fabric of the tape slide beneath your arms and across your chest. It presses snugly for a moment, not tight, just enough to make you hyper-aware of your shape—of how much there is now. Riley's eyes flick to the numbers, then she adjusts slightly, measuring again just under your bust. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says with a small nod. @@.girl;"Looks like a 36 band... and about a B cup. Pretty balanced fit overall."@@ You freeze a little at that. Hearing it spoken aloud makes it feel real in a new way. Not theoretical. Not just your reflection. Something measurable. Defined. Riley meets your eyes briefly and offers a smile that doesn't feel patronizing. @@.girl;"Nothing out of the ordinary. Super common size. We've got tons of comfy options for this range."@@ From the bench, Samantha nods like she already knew. @@.samantha;"See? I told you you'd have good proportions."@@ You roll your eyes, but you're grateful. <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ The measuring tape glides under your arms and across your chest like a ribbon, cool against your skin. Riley works quickly but gently, adjusting the tape at your back, then again along your bust. @@.girl;"Just breathe easy,"@@ she murmurs. @@.girl;"Almost done."@@ There's a short pause as she checks the number. @@.girl;"Looks like a 34 band,"@@ she says, adjusting slightly and nodding. @@.girl;"And just about an A cup. A classic starting point."@@ You shift slightly on your feet, uncertain whether to be relieved or embarrassed. Riley seems to pick up on it. @@.girl;"Totally normal, by the way. Bodies develop at different speeds. A cup sizes are ''super'' easy to shop for, and a lot of our softer styles are built with this in mind."@@ Samantha hums. @@.samantha;"A-plus for the A-cup,"@@ she says, tapping at the bench with her fingers. @@.samantha;"We're officially in starter bra territory."@@ You huff a quiet laugh and don't quiet meet her eye, but you don't feel as nervous now. <<else>>\ Riley steps in, guiding the tape around your torso with quiet efficiency. It sits flat against your skin—there's nothing to press into, nothing to measure in curves. Just a shape you've always known. She reads the numbers, her voice calm. @@.girl;"32 band,"@@ she says, making a small adjustment, double-checking. @@.girl;"And about an AA cup."@@ You nod faintly. That's about what you expected. Still, hearing it spoken aloud feels... odd. Like something that doesn't quite match everything else you've been going through. But Riley doesn't flinch, doesn't blink. @@.girl;"That's totally valid,"@@ she says, as if reading your thoughts. @@.girl;"Some folks stay here. Some don't. Either way, there are great pieces that'll feel comfortable and still give you coverage or shape if that's what you're after."@@ Samantha leans forward from the bench. @@.samantha;"So basically: we're in comfy bralette territory. Minimalist. Clean. Iconic."@@ You smile, just a little. @@.player;"Sounds manageable."@@ Riley nods, already jotting things down. @@.girl;"Let's find you something that fits just right."@@ <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 2>>\ You take a steadying breath, staring at the softly lit fitting room, then glance between them. @@.player;"I... think I'd like Jessica to come in with me,"@@ you say, the words coming out quieter than you expected. For a moment, Samantha blinks, but then she shrugs, her expression relaxed. @@.samantha;"Yeah, of course. Whatever makes you comfortable."@@ She steps back, stuffing her hands into her pockets. @@.samantha;"I'll be out here. Go team or whatever."@@ Jessica offers you a soft, reassuring smile. @@.jessica;"Alright. Let's do this together, then."@@ The ease in her tone makes it feel a little less daunting, and you nod, following her as she steps into the fitting room with you. The door closes shut behind you, sealing off the sounds of the store and leaving you in the quiet, softly lit space together. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You take a moment to steady yourself, then hook your fingers under the hem of your top and pull it over your head. The air in the fitting room feels warm against your skin, and you can't help but glance away from the mirror as your binder comes into view—tight, stretched a little more than it should be, the fabric digging faintly into your skin where it presses hardest. There are faint red lines where the edges have been digging in, marks you've gotten used to ignoring. Jessica stands a step back, arms loosely folded, but her posture changes when she sees it. Her shoulders sink a little, her lips press together, and she lets out a soft sigh. @@.jessica;"$name,"@@ she says quietly, her voice so gentle it makes your chest tighten in a whole new way, @@.jessica;"does that hurt?"@@ You hesitate, staring at the floor before nodding. @@.player;"Yeah, it does. Kind of all the time, actually. Especially after wearing it for a while."@@ Jessica frowns. @@.jessica;"That's not okay,"@@ she says, her tone still soft but frimer now, like she needs you to hear it. @@.jessica;"We're going to find you something better. You deserve to feel supported without feeling like you're... trapped."@@ <<else>>\ You pull your shirt over your head, and the air in the fitting room feels heavier somehow. The knotted towel across your chest is wound so tight it's biting into your skin, leaving angry red lines along your ribs and shoulders. The skin near the knot is rubbed raw, the marks deep enough that even you can't ignore how bad they look. Jessica freezes when she sees it, her usual warmth gone in an instant, replaced by a firm edge. @@.jessica;"$name,"@@ she says, voice low and steady, @@.jessica;"this isn't okay."@@ @@.player;"It's just a towel,"@@ you say, ashamed. @@.player;"I didn't have anything else."@@ @@.jessica;"That doesn't make it any better,"@@ Jessica says, her jaw tightening. @@.jessica;"Look at your skin. You're seriously hurting yourself."@@ You try to shrug it off. @@.player;"It helps me feel better. Like I can deal with—"@@ @@.jessica;"No,"@@ she interrupts, not harshly, but with a weight that makes you stop. @@.jessica;"Not like this. This isn't safe, and you don't deserve to be in pain just to exist."@@ Her expression softens slightly, though her voice stays firm. @@.jessica;"We're gonna get you something better. Today. No arguments."@@ It doesn't sound like a suggestion. It sounds like a promise. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ You pull your shirt over your head, the soft lighting of the fitting room washing over your bare skin. There's nothing there—no bra, no binder, just your chest as it is, flat and unremarkable. Jessica takes it in for a second before speaking. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ she says gently. @@.jessica;"That makes sense."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask, glancing at her uncertainly. @@.jessica;"I mean, I get why you didn't think about wearing anything before. But even if you don't need support right now, a bra or bralette can still help. It makes clothes fit smoother, gives you a bit more comfort, especially with certain tops."@@ Her tone stays casual, like this is the most normal conversation in the world. @@.jessica;"Nothing fancy. Just something soft and easy. Let's find you something that feels right."@@ There's no judgment in her voice, just quiet reassurance. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ You pull your shirt over your head, the soft lighting of the fitting room making everything feel a little more exposed than it actually is. Underneath, you've got a plain black sports bra—functional, but clearly not made for you. The straps are a little too loose, and the band looks like it digs in more than it should. Jessica tilts her head, taking it in without a hint of judgment. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ she says softly. @@.jessica;"That's not bad, I guess."@@ You glance at her, unsure how to take that. @@.player;"Not bad?"@@ She smiles gently. @@.jessica;"Yeah. It's doing its job, sure, but it's not really made for you, is it? The fit's off. You deserve something that actually feels comfortable. Something that's not just a stand-in."@@ @@.jessica;"This doesn't have to be complicated,"@@ she says with a little grin. @@.jessica;"We'll find you something that feels right. Deal?"@@ The way she says it is simple, but somehow it makes the whole thing feel less intimidating. <<else>>\ You take a breath and pull your shirt over your head. Your chest is there, very noticeable now, with nothing to support it. You cross your arms over it without thinking. @@.jessica;"$name... you really are going to need one,"@@ Jessica says, her tone firm. @@.player;"I've been fine without it,"@@ you mutter, though it sounds weak even to you. @@.jessica;"Have you been fine, or just ignoring it?"@@ You hesitate. @@.player;"Well, it //is// uncomfortable sometimes. Especially when I'm moving around or going down the stairs."@@ @@.jessica;"Exactly,"@@ Jessica says, nodding. @@.jessica;"This isn't about how things look, it's about support and feeling good in your body. You don't need to tough it out."@@ You glance at the mirror. @@.player;"I don't even know where to start with this."@@ @@.jessica;"That's why I'm here,"@@ she says, smile softening. @@.jessica;"Let's get you something that actually works."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ A soft knock breaks the quiet hum of the fitting room. @@.girl;"Hey,"@@ Riley's voice comes gently from the other side of the door. @@.girl;"Are you two doing alright in there? Ready for me to come in?"@@ You stiffen instinctively, glancing toward Jessica. The air feels thicker all of a sudden, the simple act of saying "yes" looming over you. Jessica notices your hesitation immediately. She gets in front of you so she's in your line of sight, her voice soft but steady. @@.jessica;"Hey. You're okay,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Measurements are the easy part. She does this every single day. Nothing weird, nothing uncomfortable. And I'll be right here the whole time."@@ You let out a shaky breath, staring at the door like it's some kind of threshold. @@.player;"I just... don't know what to expect."@@ @@.jessica;"That's fair,"@@ Jessica says gently. @@.jessica;"But Riley's good at this. She's done it a million times. She's not here to judge you, she just wants to make sure whatever you end up with actually fits you and feels good. That's all."@@ Her words are grounding in a way you didn't realize you needed. You nod slowly, still nervous but steadier. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say finally, your voice just loud enough to carry through the door. @@.player;"Yeah. We're ready."@@ The handle turns, and Riley steps inside with an easy smile, closing the door behind her. She doesn't rush, doesn't make a show of looking around. Her gaze stays on you, warm but professional. @@.girl;"Perfect,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"We'll start simple with a few quick measurements to get a sense of size. You don't have to do anything but stand still. Try to relax, okay?"@@ You nod, heart still pounding. <<if $breastsProg is 3>>\ Riley gives you a reassuring nod as she positions the tape under your bust. @@.girl;"Just keep your arms relaxed. Perfect."@@ Her tone is calm, the kind that makes it easier not to overthink what's happening. She pulls the tape snug—not too tight—notes the number, then moves it higher, measuring around your chest. @@.girl;"Alright, one more adjustment. There we go."@@ She steps back, scribbling something quickly onto her notepad before looking up with a warm, easy smile. @@.girl;"You're measuring at about a 36B,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"That's a really versatile size, which means we've got a ton of options to work with. We can go for supportive pieces that feel light and flexible, or keep it super simple."@@ You let out a slow breath, feeling oddly grounded now that you actually have a number to work with. @@.player;"So... that's pretty normal, right?"@@ @@.jessica;"Very much so,"@@ Jessica says, grinning. @@.jessica;"You'd be very surprised by how common that size is. We're going to find something great."@@ <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ Riley loops the measuring tape around you with practiced ease, her movements efficient but gentle. @@.girl;"Stand nice and relaxed,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"If you hold your breath, it can throw the number off a little."@@ You exhale, letting your shoulders loosen as she takes the first measurement just beneath your chest, then shifts the tape up higher. @@.girl;"Great, hold still. Almost done."@@ @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says with a small smile. She steps back and jots down a few quick notes. @@.girl;"You're measuring at about a 34A. That's a great starting point. You'll have plenty of options. It's about finding what feels right."@@ @@.player;"That's not too small or anything?"@@ you ask, nervously shifting a little on your feet. Jessica shakes her head before Riley can even answer. @@.jessica;"Not at all. That's like the 'welcome to options' size,"@@ she says brightly. @@.jessica;"Seriously, you're gonna have a ton of choices."@@ <<else>>\ Riley crouches slightly to get the tape in place, the cool fabric brushing lightly against ribs as she works. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says calmly, @@.girl;"I'm going to start under the bust first."@@ Her voice is steady and professional, the kind of tone that makes it easy to breathe. She checks the fit, adjusts it once, then notes the number on a small pad. @@.girl;"Okay, now just lift your arms for me. Perfect."@@ She moves the tape higher, around the fullest part of your chest, and gives another small nod. @@.girl;"Looks like you're measuring at about a 32AA,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"That's on the smaller end, which actually gives us some flexibility. That puts you in a flat-fit or soft bralette category. Just something comfortable and light."@@ You blink at her, trying to process the numbers, then glance over at Jessica. Jessica pushes off the wall, her smile reassuring. @@.jessica;"See? That wasn't bad at all. And now we know exactly where to start."@@ <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 3>>\ You hover at the fitting room doorway, staring inside like it's some kind of threshold you're not sure you're ready to cross. Jessica waits patiently just beside you, hands clasped loosely in front of her, while Samantha leans against the wall. @@.player;"Actually, could you both come in with me?"@@ you say, glancing between the two of them. Jessica offers a warm smile without a moment's hesitation. @@.jessica;"Of course,"@@ she says. Samantha straightens, eyebrows lifting as she steps closer. @@.samantha;"Both of us? Alright,"@@ she says, peeking past you into the room. She tilts her head, taking in the narrow space. @@.samantha;"Might be a little crowded, but we can make it work."@@ You huff out a nervous laugh, stepping aside so they can follow you in. Samantha pushes the door gently with her shoulder as she slips past, scanning the room. @@.samantha;"Wow. Luxury. As I said, only the best for you."@@ Jessica chuckles lightly, moving to stand near the wall opposite the mirror. She's careful to give you space while still staying close enough to feel present. She folds her arms, not in the way Samantha does, but in a relaxed, grounding stance that makes the room feel less intimidating. Samantha drops onto the bench, leans back against the wall, and lets her foot tap idly against the floor. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ she says, spreading her hands in an exaggerated gesture. @@.samantha;"Stage is yours, $name. Showtime."@@ You roll your eyes, but the joking is enough to ease the knot in your chest just a little. Jessica nods toward the mirror. @@.jessica;"Take your time,"@@ she says softly. @@.jessica;"We're not going anywhere."@@ You nod, finally slipping all the way in. The three of you shuffle slightly to make the cramped space work, and Samantha reaches to push the door closed with a soft click. The three of you are now sealed off from the rest of the store, the outside world fading away into the quiet little room. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You take a moment to steady yourself, then hook your fingers under the hem of your top and pull it over your head. The air in the fitting room feels warm against your skin, and you can't help but glance away from the mirror as your binder comes into view—tight, stretched a little more than it should be, the fabric digging faintly into your skin where it presses hardest. There are faint red lines where the edges have been digging in, marks you've gotten used to ignoring. There's silence for a moment, heavy and tense. Then, Samantha breaks it, her voice sharper than usual. @@.samantha;"Dude,"@@ she says flatly, sitting forward on the bench, elbows on her knees. @@.samantha;"Are you serious? You've been wearing that?"@@ You glance back at her, startled by the edge in her tone. @@.player;"Yeah. It's just a binder I got. It's fine."@@ @@.samantha;"//Fine?//"@@ she repeats, incredulous. @@.samantha;"It's literally digging into you. That's not fine, $name."@@ Jessica steps in before Samantha can go further, but her voice isn't any softer. It's calm, sure, but there's a gravity to it that makes your stomach twist. @@.jessica;"$name, it's not supposed to hurt you. And looking at those marks?"@@ She gestures toward your ribs, her face pained. @@.jessica;"It clearly is."@@ @@.samantha;"We are ''not'' letting you walk out of here without fixing this,"@@ Samantha says, letting out a frustrated breath. <<else>>\ You peel off your top, and the air in the small room feels instantly heavier. The knotted towel across your chest is wound so tight it's biting into your skin, leaving angry red lines along your ribs and shoulders. The skin near the knot is rubbed raw, the marks deep enough that even you can't ignore how bad they look. Samantha sits forward so sharply the bench creaks. @@.samantha;"Oh my fucking God,"@@ she blurts, staring at you. @@.samantha;"I knew you said you were using a towel, but—//that?// Are you out of your mind?!"@@ Jessica's face hardens, her voice low and serious in a way you don't often hear from her. @@.jessica;"$name... this isn't just bad. It's dangerous. You can't keep doing this to yourself."@@ @@.player;"It works,"@@ you mumble weakly. @@.player;"I just didn't think it was a big deal."@@ @@.samantha;"Not a big deal?"@@ Samantha snaps. @@.samantha;"That thing is digging into you."@@ Jessica exhales, a little softer now but no less firm. @@.jessica;"She's right. You don't deserve to hurt just to feel okay. We're fixing this today."@@ You glance at the angry red lines across your skin, and you can't argue back. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ You pull your shirt over your head, the soft lighting of the fitting room washing over your bare skin. There's nothing there—no bra, no binder, just your chest as it is, flat and unremarkable. Samantha tilts her head. @@.samantha;"Oh,"@@ she says after a beat, leaning back on the bench. @@.samantha;"Okay. I mean... I guess that makes sense why you haven't been wearing anything. I expected some dramatic boob reveal."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah. If you're flat like this, I get why it didn't feel like a priority,"@@ Jessica says, giving you a small, understanding smile. Then she adds, @@.jessica;"But even then, a little support or shaping wouldn't hurt. It can make clothes sit better, and honestly? It can just feel nice."@@ Samantha nods. @@.samantha;"Yeah, something light. Doesn't have to be serious. Just... you know, not literally nothing."@@ @@.player;"I never really thought about it that way,"@@ you murmur. @@.jessica;"That's what we're here for,"@@ Jessica shrugs. @@.jessica;"Doesn't have to be complicated. Just something that feels good to wear."@@ @@.samantha;"And doesn't look like you just rolled out of bed and grabbed a shirt,"@@ Samantha comments. You roll your eyes, but you can't help smiling a little. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ You pull your shirt over your head, the soft lighting of the fitting room making everything feel a little more exposed than it actually is. Underneath, you've got a plain black sports bra—functional, but clearly not made for you. The straps are a little too loose, and the band looks like it digs in more than it should. Jessica tilts her head, taking it in without a hint of judgment. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ she says softly. @@.jessica;"That's not bad, I guess. But still... this isn't really your size, is it?"@@ You shrug awkwardly. @@.player;"Someone gave it to me. It works well enough."@@ @@.jessica;"'Well enough' shouldn't leave you constantly adjusting it,"@@ Jessica says gently. @@.jessica;"We can do better. Something actually meant for you."@@ Samantha, still lounging on the bench, raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"A hand-me-down sports bra. Truly the height of fashion."@@ You give her a flat look. @@.player;"Thanks, Sam."@@ @@.samantha;"What?"@@ Sam asks, feigning ignorance. @@.samantha;"I'm just saying, if bras could talk, that one would be screaming for retirement."@@ Jessica shoots her a look but can't quite suppress a smile. @@.jessica;"She's not wrong,"@@ she admits, then turns back to you with a reassuring tone. @@.jessica;"We'll find you something comfortable. Something you don't have to fight with every time you wear it."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I guess that'd be nice."@@ @@.samantha;"Nice?"@@ Samantha grins. @@.samantha;"Buddy, you're about to level up."@@ You roll your eyes, but somehow, Samantha's comments make the whole thing feel a little less embarrassing. <<else>>\ You take a breath and pull your shirt over your head. Your chest is there, very noticeable now, with nothing to support it. You cross your arms over it without thinking. Samantha's eyebrows shoot up first. @@.samantha;"Oh, wow,"@@ she says bluntly, leaning forward on the bench. @@.samantha;"Okay, yeah. You seriously need a bra. Like yesterday."@@ @@.jessica;"She's right,"@@ Jessica says, stepping a little closer, her tone careful but serious. @@.jessica;"Going without support isn't just uncomfortable—it can mess with your posture, your back, even development over time. You can't just leave them unsupported like this."@@ You rub the back of your neck, embarrassed. @@.player;"I mean... it //has// been uncomfortable,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"Especially when I'm, like, going down stairs. That sucks."@@ Jessica gives you a sympathetic look. @@.jessica;"That's exactly what I mean. You shouldn't have to put up with that. You need proper support."@@ @@.samantha;"Samantha Rivera's official diagnosis: get a bra,"@@ she says, pointing at you like she's delivering a verdict. @@.samantha;"We're making that happen today."@@ @@.player;"Guess I don't get a say in this, huh?"@@ you mutter. @@.jessica;"Trust me,"@@ Jessica states. @@.jessica;"You'll thank us."@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"And so will your boobs when you're on the stairs."@@ @@.jessica;"Sam!"@@ Jessica groans, swatting at her arm, but the tension in the room feels a little lighter now. <</if>>\ A soft knock breaks the quiet hum of the fitting room. @@.girl;"Hey,"@@ Riley's voice comes gently from the other side of the door. @@.girl;"Are you three doing alright in there? Ready for me to come in?"@@ You freeze for a moment, you gaze flicking nervously between Samantha and Jessica. The air feels thicker all of a sudden, the simple act of saying "yes" looming over you. Jessica notices your hesitation immediately. She gets in front of you so she's in your line of sight, her voice soft but steady. @@.jessica;"Hey. You're okay,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Measurements are the easy part. She does this every single day. Nothing weird, nothing uncomfortable. And I'll be right here the whole time."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, seriously,"@@ Samantha states. @@.samantha;"It's just Riley doing her thing. She'll just make sure your bra is comfortable."@@ You let out a shaky breath, staring at the door like it's some kind of threshold. @@.player;"I just... don't know what to expect."@@ @@.jessica;"That's fair,"@@ Jessica says gently. @@.jessica;"But Riley's good at this. She's done it a million times. She's not here to judge you, she just wants to make sure whatever you end up with actually fits you and feels good. That's all."@@ Their words are grounding in a way you didn't realize you needed. You nod slowly, still nervous but steadier. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say finally, your voice just loud enough to carry through the door. @@.player;"Yeah. We're ready."@@ The handle turns, and Riley steps inside with an easy smile, closing the door behind her. She doesn't rush, doesn't make a show of looking around. Her gaze stays on you, warm but professional. @@.girl;"Perfect,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"We'll start simple with a few quick measurements to get a sense of size. You don't have to do anything but stand still. Try to relax, okay?"@@ You nod, heart still pounding. <<if $breastsProg is 3>>\ Riley gives you a reassuring nod as she positions the tape under your bust. @@.girl;"Just keep your arms relaxed. Perfect."@@ Her tone is calm, the kind that makes it easier not to overthink what's happening. She pulls the tape snug—not too tight—notes the number, then moves it higher, measuring around your chest. @@.girl;"Alright, one more adjustment. There we go."@@ She steps back, scribbling something quickly onto her notepad before looking up with a warm, easy smile. @@.girl;"You're measuring at about a 36B,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"That's a really versatile size, which means we've got a ton of options to work with. We can go for supportive pieces that feel light and flexible, or keep it super simple."@@ You let out a slow breath, feeling oddly grounded now that you actually have a number to work with. @@.player;"So... that's pretty normal, right?"@@ @@.jessica;"Very much so,"@@ Jessica says, grinning. @@.jessica;"You'd be very surprised by how common that size is. We're going to find something great."@@ From the bench, Samantha nods like she already knew. @@.samantha;"See? I told you you'd have good proportions."@@ You roll your eyes, but you're grateful. <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ Riley loops the measuring tape around you with practiced ease, her movements efficient but gentle. @@.girl;"Stand nice and relaxed,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"If you hold your breath, it can throw the number off a little."@@ You exhale, letting your shoulders loosen as she takes the first measurement just beneath your chest, then shifts the tape up higher. @@.girl;"Great, hold still. Almost done."@@ @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says with a small smile. She steps back and jots down a few quick notes. @@.girl;"You're measuring at about a 34A. That's a great starting point. You'll have plenty of options. It's about finding what feels right."@@ @@.player;"That's not too small or anything?"@@ you ask, nervously shifting a little on your feet. Jessica shakes her head before Riley can even answer. @@.jessica;"Not at all. That's like the 'welcome to options' size,"@@ she says brightly. @@.jessica;"Seriously, you're gonna have a ton of choices."@@ Samantha hums. @@.samantha;"A-plus for the A-cup,"@@ she says, tapping at the bench with her fingers. @@.samantha;"We're officially in starter bra territory."@@ You huff a quiet laugh and don't quiet meet her eye, but you don't feel as nervous now. <<else>>\ Riley crouches slightly to get the tape in place, the cool fabric brushing lightly against ribs as she works. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says calmly, @@.girl;"I'm going to start under the bust first."@@ Her voice is steady and professional, the kind of tone that makes it easy to breathe. She checks the fit, adjusts it once, then notes the number on a small pad. @@.girl;"Okay, now just lift your arms for me. Perfect."@@ She moves the tape higher, around the fullest part of your chest, and gives another small nod. @@.girl;"Looks like you're measuring at about a 32AA,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"That's on the smaller end, which actually gives us some flexibility. That puts you in a flat-fit or soft bralette category. Just something comfortable and light."@@ You blink at her, trying to process the numbers, then glance over at Jessica. Jessica pushes off the wall, her smile reassuring. @@.jessica;"See? That wasn't bad at all. And now we know exactly where to start."@@ Samantha leans forward from the bench. @@.samantha;"So basically: we're in comfy bralette territory. Minimalist. Clean. Iconic."@@ You smile, just a little. @@.player;"Sounds manageable."@@ Riley nods, already jotting things down. @@.girl;"Let's find you something that fits just right."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $bind to false>> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 12">><</button>>

A few minutes pass in quiet after Riley steps out. Then, there's a gentle knock. @@.girl;"Got a few options for you!"@@ Riley announces. You crack the door open just enough to take them. She hands you a neat little stack of bras, each on a padded hanger, her smile warm but never too much. @@.girl;"I got three basics and one that's a little more fun, if you're up for it."@@ You nod, murmuring a quiet thank you as she vanishes down the hall again. You hang the bras one by one on the hook. They sway slightly, catching the light. You run your fingers over the first one—white, smooth, and soft. Simple. It feels like the safe option. The kind you could wear without thinking or announcing anything. Just... functional. Next is a lavender one. Something about the color makes your breath hitch slightly. It's soft too, but a little more delicate, a little more expressive. It feels like something someone picked for themselves, not just to hide in. The third is black. Sleek. Minimalist. There's something about it that feels... grounded. Like it belongs to someone who already knows what they want, who they are. You don't know if that's you yet, but it tugs at something in your chest. And then there's the last one—lacy black, floral stitching curling across the cups. It has a certain elegance to it that makes you hesitate. It's bold, feminine, and pretty. <<if $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 0>>\ @@.player;"I'll just get one,"@@ you say to yourself. <<elseif $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 1>>\ You run your fingers along one of them, the fabric light and smooth beneath your touch, and mutter mostly to yourself, @@.player;"I'll just get one."@@ From the bench, Samantha shrugs like it's the most obvious thing in the world. @@.samantha;"Then get the one you actually like."@@ You glance at her. She's not pushing. Just watching, legs crossed, expression calm. @@.samantha;"One that feels right,"@@ she adds. @@.samantha;"Not just what's practical. You deserve that much, $name."@@ <<elseif $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 2>>\ You run your fingers along one of them, the fabric light and smooth beneath your touch, and mutter mostly to yourself, @@.player;"I'll just get one."@@ Standing beside you, Jessica tilts her head, studying you. @@.jessica;"Then get the one you actually like,"@@ she says, her tone soft but purposeful, like she's gently nudging you forward. You glance at her. She's not crowding you or hurrying you—just standing there patiently. @@.jessica;"One that feels like //you//,"@@ she adds. @@.jessica;"Not what's safe or easy, but something that makes you feel good when you wear it."@@ <<elseif $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 3>>\ You run your fingers along one of them, the fabric light and smooth beneath your touch, and mutter mostly to yourself, @@.player;"I'll just get one."@@ From the bench, Samantha kicks one leg lazily over the other, her arms stretched along the backrest like she owns the place. @@.samantha;"Then you've gotta get the one you actually like,"@@ she says, her tone casual. Jessica, standing beside you, chimes in with a gentler tone. @@.jessica;"Samantha's right. Don't just grab something because you think you should. Pick one that feels good to you. One that feels like you."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm always right,"@@ Samantha mutters. @@.samantha;"Anyway, don't overthink it. If you're gonna do this, at least make it something you don't hate looking at in the mirror."@@ <</if>>\ Your hand lingers between the lavender and the black for a moment longer before you take one down from the hook. <<button "Get the basic white bra" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 13">>\<<set $d18bra to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_bra" "Get the basic white bra" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get the basic black bra" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 13">>\<<set $d18bra to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_bra" "Get the basic black bra" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get the basic lavender bra" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 13">>\<<set $d18bra to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_bra" "Get the basic lavender bra" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get the lacy black bra" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 13">>\<<set $d18bra to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_bra" "Get the lacy black bra" "story">><</button>>

<<set $bra to $d18bra>>\ <<set $topoff to false>>\ <<set $showbra to true>>\ <<set $braunlock to []>> <<if $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 0>>\ <<if $d18bra is 0>>\ <<set $braunlock[0] to true>>\ You reach for the white bra. It's the most neutral of the bunch—plain, seamless, and soft. The kind of thing you could wear and forget it's even there. No color to read into or message to send, it's just... safe. And safe feels okay right now. You unclip it and slip it on, the band fitting snugly around your ribs. It's gentle. Light. Not restrictive, just present. You glance at your reflection in the mirror and realize your body feels a little more comfortable, like it finally has permission to settle. There's no dramatic revelation or swelling music, just a soft kind of rightness. You breathe out and roll your shoulders. This, you can handle. <<elseif $d18bra is 1>>\ <<set $braunlock[1] to true>>\ Your fingers hover, then curl around the sleek black one. There's something about it—minimal, structured, and just a little bold. You're not sure what exactly draws you to it, but you want it. You try it on. The fabric hugs your chest firmly, but not uncomfortably. The straps feel solid. Supportive. You look at yourself in the mirror and for a second, you seem more grounded. There's a small shift in your spine, a straighter posture, and a breath that comes easier. You didn't expect this, but here you are. <<elseif $d18bra is 2>>\ <<set $braunlock[2] to true>>\ You hesitate over the lavender one. It's soft. Delicate, but not girly. Calm. You hold it up and it feels like something chosen—not just worn. Almost like it's for you. You slip it on. It fits perfectly—gentle and stretchy, not too tight, not too loose. The color is subtle, but undeniably there. You look in the mirror, expecting to feel awkward. But instead, you feel something close to warmth. It's not about standing out, it's about softening into yourself. <<elseif $d18bra is 3>>\ <<set $braunlock[3] to true>>\ Your eyes land on the lacy one. It's delicate. Floral-patterned. Slightly sheer. Something about it feels like stepping off a ledge and trusting the ground will rise up to catch you. You're not even sure why the hell you reach for it. Maybe it's because it scares you a little. Or maybe because it doesn't. You slip it on slowly. The lace settles across your chest. You face the mirror, expecting to feel ridiculous. But you don't. You actually, somehow, feel pretty. For a moment, you stop bracing against yourself. You just exist. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 1>>\ <<if $d18bra is 0>>\ <<set $braunlock[0] to true>>\ You pick up the white bra from the hook, holding it in both hands like you're still not totally sure it's real. It's nothing fancy—no lace, no bows, no pastel polka dots or shimmering straps. Just clean, soft cotton with a gentle curve to the cups and wide, comfortable-looking bands. It's the kind of thing that doesn't try to be anything more than what it is. Simple. Uncomplicated. Quiet. You run your thumb along the edge. There's no dramatic reveal. No butterflies. Just a subtle kind of... yes. @@.player;"I think I'll go with this one,"@@ you say softly, more to yourself than anyone else. Samantha, naturally, hears it anyway. @@.samantha;"The white one?"@@ she echoes, dramatically scandalized. @@.samantha;"Classic. Timeless. Slightly boring. I respect it."@@ You roll your eyes without looking up. @@.samantha;"No, but seriously,"@@ she continues, flopping sideways on the bench like she's doing color commentary on your soul. @@.samantha;"You could've picked the lacy black one that Luke would like. But no. You? You go for soft white. You are terrifyingly responsible."@@ @@.player;"Its comfortable,"@@ you mutter. @@.samantha;"It's aggressively neutral. I love it. You're going full blank-slate-core."@@ You smile faintly and turn back to the mirror, the bra still in your hands. There's no drama to it. No rush. Just you, deciding. You slip the straps over your shoulders and carefully adjust it into place. The band fits snug but not tight. The cups settle comfortably against your chest. It doesn't dig in. It doesn't shout anything about who you are or who you're supposed to be. It just fits. You look up into the mirror. The reflection looking back is still you. A little more held together. A little more... you-shaped. Samantha's watching without a word now, her usual smirk replaced by something quieter. Pride, maybe. You nod once, almost to yourself. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"This is ''definitely'' the one."@@ <<elseif $d18bra is 1>>\ <<set $braunlock[1] to true>>\ Your eyes move slowly over the small stack of options Riley left on the hooks. But your gaze ends up settling on a simple black bra. It's not dramatic. Not lacy or strappy or trying to be edgy. Just matte black cotton, seamless cups, and clean lines. No shine, no frills. Understated—but certain. You reach for it. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you say, almost to yourself. @@.player;"This one."@@ You lift it carefully, letting the straps fall loose over your hands. The fabric is soft and flexible, the kind that feels like it's been washed a few times even though it's brand new. There's something grounding about it—quietly confident. It doesn't ask for permission to exist. From the bench, Samantha perks up. @@.samantha;"Ooh, going with the black bra. Power move."@@ You glance at her in the mirror. @@.player;"You think?"@@ She leans forward, one leg swinging lazily. @@.samantha;"Oh, absolutely. Black is like, the cool older cousin of mine. Still classic, but with a tiny bit of menace. Like, 'Yeah, I'm wearing a bra, and I might also be plotting something.'"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"I'm not plotting anything."@@ She shrugs. @@.samantha;"Not //yet//. But now you have the //potential//. That's the power of a black bra, my friend."@@ You laugh under your breath, shaking your head, then turn back to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you—shoulders slightly tense, lips pressed together. You shift your weight. The bra still rests in your hands, waiting. @@.player;"I like how it's simple,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Not trying to prove anything."@@ Samantha smiles. @@.samantha;"Exactly. It just sits there and does its job. You've gotta respect that."@@ You nod, then step back from the mirror and take a breath. You slowly pull the bra over your shoulders, adjusting the band behind your back. The fabric is soft where it touches your skin, snug but not squeezing. The straps settle comfortably—no pinching, no slipping. The cups mold gently over what you have there as well. You turn, checking yourself from a few angles. It doesn't flatten you. Doesn't exaggerate either. It just fits. The black fabric lies smooth across your chest, clean lines and quiet intent. You look to Samantha. She gives a little nod, more serious than her usual teasing. @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ she says, arms crossed. @@.samantha;"That's the one."@@ @@.player;"I think I like it,"@@ you admit. @@.samantha;"Good,"@@ she replies. @@.samantha;"Then it's yours."@@ <<elseif $d18bra is 2>>\ <<set $braunlock[2] to true>>\ Your eyes drift over the neat row of bras hanging on hooks. Clean white, classic black... and then—at the end—you spot it. Lavender. Your breath catches, just a little. It's not some flashy, lacy, look-at-me thing. Just a simple bra in that soft shade of purple. The fabric is smooth and matte, with a slightly heathered texture—like a comfy sleek shirt in bra form. The straps are plain, the cups seamless, no bows, no sparkle, nothing trying to be extra. Just lavender. Your fingers brush the fabric, almost without thinking. It's familiar in a strange way—not because you've worn anything like it before, but because the color feels like home. Something you used to scribble with crayons, pick out in art supplies, secretly wish your bedroom had more of. You pick it up gently, turning it over in your hands. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you start slowly, @@.player;"this is the one."@@ Samantha glances over and immediately smirks. @@.samantha;"Of course,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Lavender. Because //obviously//."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.samantha;"$name Yoon, connoisseur of exactly one color since childhood. If it comes in lavender, he will choose it. You could be in a sword shop and still walk out with a lavender katana."@@ You try not to grin, failing entirely. @@.player;"It's a good color."@@ @@.samantha;"It's a commitment, is what it is,"@@ she teases. @@.samantha;"You've been in a lifelong relationship with lavender and you haven't even send it flowers."@@ You turn the bra in your hands again, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. @@.player;"I just like it. Always have. Maybe I always will."@@ Her expression softens—just a little. @@.samantha;"I know."@@ You pull the bra on, the lavender fabric cool and soft against your skin. The band fits snug around your ribs, the straps resting gently on your shoulders. The color makes your skin look softer, somehow. You adjust it slightly, step back, and take yourself in. It looks like it was always supposed to be there. Samantha whistles under her breath. @@.samantha;"Okay, okay. Alright. I can see the vision. That's kinda perfect, I can't lie."@@ You glance at her through the mirror. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ she says, crossing her arms. @@.samantha;"Lavender strikes again."@@ You look back at the mirror, the color framing you like a quiet affirmation. The color doesn't hide you, change you, or explain you. It just fits. <<elseif $d18bra is 3>>\ <<set $braunlock[3] to true>>\ You spot it pretending not to be the most dramatic thing on the table. A lacy black bra. You pick it up slowly, holding it by the straps like you've just discovered something disgusting. The cups are trimmed with floral lace, semi-sheer at the top, soft fabric below. It's the kind of bra you'd expect to see in a moody perfume ad or on a mannequin with opinions about jazz. You blink. @@.player;"Is this... for real?"@@ From the bench, Samantha perks up like a meerkat. @@.samantha;"Oh. You picked //that//?"@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"I didn't say I'm picking it. I just... grabbed it."@@ She leans forward, elbows on her knees, grinning like she's already writing your eulogy. @@.samantha;"That's not a bra, $name. That's a ''statement''. That's the kind of bra that has an ex's name blocked in its phone."@@ You roll your eyes, but your thumb keeps brushing over the lace. It's softer than you expected. Not itchy or stiff—just light, like a whisper. The black is deep and rich, the kind of color that doesn't ask for attention so much as //assume// it. @@.samantha;"You're gonna put that on and instantly start speaking in metaphors,"@@ Samantha continues. @@.samantha;"People will ask you how your day's going and you'll be like, 'The moon was cruel today.' You'd give off Aurora vibes."@@ You laugh despite yourself. @@.player;"It's just a bra."@@ @@.samantha;"No,"@@ she says, completely serious now. @@.samantha;"It's the moment. It's power. It's nighttime elegance. It's... slightly intimidating, and I love that for you."@@ You shake your head, but you're already getting ready to put it on. There's a strange thrill building in your chest—not fear, exactly, but the sense that you're about to cross some invisible line and discover something on the other side. You ease the bra on carefully, adjusting the band behind your back and letting the straps slide into place. The lace lies smooth across your skin, the sheer fabric showing just enough to feel... bold. The underlayer holds just enough—gentle, not rigid. You glance up at the mirror. And freeze. The person staring back looks like they have secrets. Not the kind you hide, but the kind you choose to keep. There's something darkly elegant about the black lace, the contrast against your skin, the way it shifts how you carry yourself without even trying. Samantha lets out a low whistle. @@.samantha;"Welp. I'm intimidated."@@ You smile, slow and a little stunned. @@.player;"It actually fits. Like, //really// fits."@@ @@.samantha;"Of course it does,"@@ she says, leaning back, satisfied. @@.samantha;"That bra didn't pick you. You picked each other."@@ You give her a look. She shrugs. @@.samantha;"Let me have my moment. This is a pivotal coming-of-age moment."@@ You turn back to the mirror, hands resting lightly on your hips. The bra hugs you in a way that feels intentional—not about hiding, or passing, or even survival. It just feels like something //you// chose. And for now, that's more than enough. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 2>>\ <<if $d18bra is 0>>\ <<set $braunlock[0] to true>>\ You pick up the white bra from the hook, holding it in both hands like you're still not totally sure it's real. It's nothing fancy—no lace, no bows, no pastel polka dots or shimmering straps. Just clean, soft cotton with a gentle curve to the cups and wide, comfortable-looking bands. It's the kind of thing that doesn't try to be anything more than what it is. Simple. Uncomplicated. Quiet. You run your thumb along the edge. There's no dramatic reveal. No butterflies. Just a subtle kind of... yes. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you start, hesitant, @@.player;"I'll just go with this one."@@ Jessica, who's been standing patiently at your side, leans in to get a better look. The corners of her mouth curl into a warm smile, and you can notice something almost proud in it. @@.jessica;"That's a good choice,"@@ she says, her voice light but sincere. @@.jessica;"It's like, simple, but versatile. It'll go with pretty much anything. And honestly? For a first pick, it's perfect. Comfortable is always the way to go."@@ You glance at her, and she looks genuinely pleased. It's as if you just passed some invisible milestone. @@.player;"I know it's not the most exciting thing here,"@@ you admit, lowering it slightly. Jessica shakes her head, reaching out to gently tap the strap. @@.jessica;"It doesn't have to be exciting. It just has to feel right for //you//. And this one does, doesn't it?"@@ You roll the fabric between your fingers and nod. @@.player;"Yeah. I think it does."@@ @@.jessica;"Then let's see how it feels once you put it on,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"That's the real test."@@ You take a breath and slip the straps over your shoulders, fumbling a little with the clasp before finally getting it in place. The material settles snugly into your skin—light, soft, and ''way'' less restrictive than you expected. It's just there in a way that feels natural. You glance at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the straps a bit, and for once you don't immediately look away. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"I think this is it."@@ @@.jessica;"See?"@@ she says, her face brightening. @@.jessica;"I knew it. Looks like we've found a winner."@@ <<elseif $d18bra is 1>>\ <<set $braunlock[1] to true>>\ Your eyes move slowly over the small stack of options Riley left on the hooks. But your gaze ends up settling on a simple black bra. It's not dramatic. Not lacy or strappy or trying to be edgy. Just matte black cotton, seamless cups, and clean lines. No shine, no frills. Understated—but certain. You reach for it and pull it off the hanger. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you start hesitantly, but slowly grow more certain, @@.player;"I'm gonna go with this one."@@ Jessica, standing beside you, leans into get a better look. Her face lights up. @@.jessica;"Ooh. Good choice,"@@ she says, voice easy and approving. @@.jessica;"Black's classic, it goes with literally everything, and it's low-maintenance. Plus,"@@ she adds with a little grin, @@.jessica;"it's kind of sleek, don't you think?"@@ You glance at her, uncertain. @@.player;"Sleek?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ she says, shrugging lightly. @@.jessica;"It's simple, but in a way that feels confident. Like it's not trying too hard. And for a first one? That's perfect. You'll get a lot of use out of it."@@ You look back at the bra, rolling the fabric between your fingers. @@.player;"I guess that makes sense."@@ @@.jessica;"Try it on,"@@ Jessica says, gesturing toward the fitting room mirror. @@.jessica;"I promise it'll feel better than just holding it."@@ You take a deep breath and carefully pull the straps over your shoulders. It takes a moment of fumbling with the clasp, but you manage to fasten it. The material settles against your skin, light but secure, without any digging or pinching. It feels right in a way you didn't expect. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur, adjusting the straps a little. You glance at yourself in the mirror, and it really //does// look sleek. @@.player;"I think I like it."@@ Jessica grins. @@.jessica;"See? I told you. That's a solid first pick. Practical //and// looks good on you. You'll get plenty of wear out of it."@@ You let out a breath. This feels like progress. <<elseif $d18bra is 2>>\ <<set $braunlock[2] to true>>\ Your eyes drift over the neat row of bras hanging on hooks. Clean white, classic black... and then—at the end—you spot it. Lavender. Your breath catches, just a little. It's not some flashy, lacy, look-at-me thing. Just a simple bra in that soft shade of purple. The fabric is smooth and matte, with a slightly heathered texture—like a comfy sleek shirt in bra form. The straps are plain, the cups seamless, no bows, no sparkle, nothing trying to be extra. Just lavender. Your fingers brush the fabric, almost without thinking. It's familiar in a strange way—not because you've worn anything like it before, but because the color feels like home. Something you used to scribble with crayons, pick out in art supplies, secretly wish your bedroom had more of. You pick it up gently, turning it over in your hands. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you start slowly, @@.player;"this is the one."@@ Jessica leans in to look at it, her brow lifting with a playful but curious smile. @@.jessica;"Lavender, huh?"@@ she says, her voice light. @@.jessica;"You sure like that color a lot."@@ You blink at her, surprised. @@.player;"How did you know that?"@@ @@.jessica;"Because you //always// gravitate toward it,"@@ Jessica says, giving you a knowing look. @@.jessica;"I don't think you even notice. Anytime there's a choice, you go for the lavender one first. I just kind of picked up on it."@@ You glance down at the bra in your hands, a little flustered. @@.player;"Huh. I didn't think anyone noticed."@@ She shrugs lightly, still smiling. @@.jessica;"I notice more than you think. But hey, it works. Lavender suits you."@@ You feel a strange warmth at that, one you can't quite name, and look back at the bra. @@.player;"I guess it does."@@ @@.jessica;"Try it on,"@@ Jessica says, gesturing toward the fitting room mirror. @@.jessica;"I bet it'll feel even better once it's on."@@ You nod and carefully pull the straps over your shoulders. After a bit of awkward fumbling with the clasp, it fastens, and you adjust the straps. The material settles smoothly against your skin, light, soft, and supportive. It feels... right. @@.player;"I really like this one,"@@ you say, surprised at how much you mean it. Jessica beams. @@.jessica;"See? I knew it. Looks like lavender wins again."@@ <<elseif $d18bra is 3>>\ <<set $braunlock[3] to true>>\ You spot it pretending not to be the most dramatic thing on the table. A lacy black bra. You pick it up slowly, holding it by the straps like you've just discovered something disgusting. The cups are trimmed with floral lace, semi-sheer at the top, soft fabric below. It's the kind of bra you'd expect to see in a moody perfume ad or on a mannequin with opinions about jazz. It's not as "safe" as the other options, but for some reason, that makes it more appealing. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you start, almost hesitating. @@.player;"I like this one."@@ Jessica leans over to get a better look, and a grin spreads across her face. @@.jessica;"Oooh,"@@ she teases, drawing the sound out just enough to make you roll your eyes. @@.jessica;"Risky. I didn't expect you to go for lace right out of the gate."@@ You feel your ears warm, glancing back at the bra. @@.player;"I just like it,"@@ you admit, quieter than you meant to. @@.player;"It's... nice. I don't know."@@ @@.jessica;"Hey, I'm not judging,"@@ Jessica says, giggling. @@.jessica;"I think it's a great pick. A little different, a little fancy, but still good. Definitely a statement for a first one, though."@@ You shrug lightly, still looking at it in your hands. @@.player;"It just feels like something I'd want to wear."@@ Jessica nods. @@.jessica;"Then that's ''exactly'' why you should get it. Clothes don't have to be boring or purely functional. If you like it, that's reason enough."@@ You take a breath, step back toward the mirror, and start slipping it on. It takes some adjusting, but once it's in place, it fits snugly without digging in. The lace sits smoothly, not itchy like you'd feared, and it gives you a shape that somehow makes you feel... more put together. You glance at yourself in the mirror, running your hand lightly over the straps. @@.player;"I really do like it,"@@ you murmur, almost surprised at yourself. @@.jessica;"See?"@@ Jessica beams, leaning one shoulder against the wall with a satisfied grin. @@.jessica;"I knew it'd work. You're braver than you think, $name. And honestly? That one looks great on you."@@ You let yourself smile back. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, and you mean it. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18samjessbrastorecompany is 3>>\ <<if $d18bra is 0>>\ <<set $braunlock[0] to true>>\ You pick up the white bra from the hook, holding it in both hands like you're still not totally sure it's real. It's nothing fancy—no lace, no bows, no pastel polka dots or shimmering straps. Just clean, soft cotton with a gentle curve to the cups and wide, comfortable-looking bands. It's the kind of thing that doesn't try to be anything more than what it is. Simple. Uncomplicated. Quiet. You run your thumb along the edge. There's no dramatic reveal. No butterflies. Just a subtle kind of... yes. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you start, hesitant, @@.player;"I'll just go with this one."@@ Samantha tilts her head, eyes narrowing like she's analyzing something. @@.samantha;"Huh. The classic. Can't go wrong with white, I guess."@@ Then she smirks. @@.samantha;"It's very... $name. Neutral and safe, like the rest of your entire closet."@@ Jessica gently elbows her as she steps in to get a closer look. @@.jessica;"Ignore her,"@@ she says with a small smile, turning her attention back to you. @@.jessica;"Honestly? It's a good choice. Simple, easy to wear with anything, and you won't overthink it every time you put it on."@@ @@.samantha;"Boring,"@@ Samantha adds under her breath. Jessica shoots her a look. @@.jessica;"Comfortable,"@@ she corrects. You take a breath and slip the straps over your shoulders, fumbling a little with the clasp before finally getting it in place. The material settles snugly into your skin—light, soft, and ''way'' less restrictive than you expected. It's just there in a way that feels natural. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say. @@.player;"This... actually feels good."@@ @@.jessica;"See?"@@ Jessica beams, her approval instant. @@.jessica;"I knew it. You made a smart choice."@@ Samantha tilts her head, looking you up and down. @@.samantha;"I'll allow it,"@@ she says reluctantly. You roll your eyes. @@.jessica;"Don't second-guess it, $name."@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"If it feels good, that's all that matters."@@ You take another look at yourself in the mirror and nod. @@.player;"Yeah. I think it does."@@ @@.samantha;"Then it's settled,"@@ Samantha says, clapping her hands together. @@.samantha;"Congratulations on your groundbreaking debut into the world of undergarments. Try not to cry, I know it's hard."@@ Jessica sighs but laughs. <<elseif $d18bra is 1>>\ <<set $braunlock[1] to true>>\ Your eyes move slowly over the small stack of options Riley left on the hooks. But your gaze ends up settling on a simple black bra. It's not dramatic. Not lacy or strappy or trying to be edgy. Just matte black cotton, seamless cups, and clean lines. No shine, no frills. Understated—but certain. You reach for it and pull it off the hanger. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you start hesitantly, but slowly grow more certain, @@.player;"I'm gonna go with this one."@@ @@.samantha;"Ooh,"@@ Samantha says from the bench. @@.samantha;"Someone's feeling edgy. Black? You're going to be brooding."@@ Jessica shakes her head at her, smiling softly as she turns to you. @@.jessica;"Ignore her. Black's a great choice. It's practical, it goes with everything, and it feels a little more confident."@@ You look back at the bra, rolling the fabric between your fingers. @@.player;"I guess that makes sense."@@ @@.jessica;"Try it on,"@@ Jessica says, gesturing toward the fitting room mirror. @@.jessica;"I promise it'll feel better than just holding it."@@ You take a deep breath and carefully pull the straps over your shoulders. It takes a moment of fumbling with the clasp, but you manage to fasten it. The material settles against your skin, light but secure, without any digging or pinching. It feels right in a way you didn't expect. @@.player;"Huh. I like this,"@@ you say, a little surprised by how much you mean it. @@.jessica;"Black's timeless for a reason,"@@ Jessica says in an approving tone. Samantha tilts her head, scrutinizing you. @@.samantha;"Yeah... okay. I'll give you this one,"@@ she says, grinning. @@.samantha;"Look at you. One bra in and already making fashionable choices. I'm so proud I could cry."@@ Jessica laughs softly, but you can't help smiling too. This feels like progress. <<elseif $d18bra is 2>>\ <<set $braunlock[2] to true>>\ Your eyes drift over the neat row of bras hanging on hooks. Clean white, classic black... and then—at the end—you spot it. Lavender. Your breath catches, just a little. It's not some flashy, lacy, look-at-me thing. Just a simple bra in that soft shade of purple. The fabric is smooth and matte, with a slightly heathered texture—like a comfy sleek shirt in bra form. The straps are plain, the cups seamless, no bows, no sparkle, nothing trying to be extra. Just lavender. Your fingers brush the fabric, almost without thinking. It's familiar in a strange way—not because you've worn anything like it before, but because the color feels like home. Something you used to scribble with crayons, pick out in art supplies, secretly wish your bedroom had more of. You pick it up gently, turning it over in your hands. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you start slowly, @@.player;"this is the one."@@ Jessica leans in to look at it, her brow lifting with a playful but curious smile. @@.jessica;"Lavender, huh?"@@ she says, her voice light. @@.jessica;"You sure like that color a lot."@@ You blink at her, surprised. @@.player;"How did you know that?"@@ @@.jessica;"Because you //always// gravitate toward it,"@@ Jessica says, giving you a knowing look. @@.jessica;"I don't think you even notice. Anytime there's a choice, you go for the lavender one first. I just kind of picked up on it."@@ Before you can even respond, Samantha practically leaps in from the bench, pointing at you with exaggerated triumph. @@.samantha;"SEE? I told you everyone could tell! You ''love'' lavender!"@@ You groan, rolling your eyes. @@.player;"It's just a nice color."@@ @@.samantha;"'Just a nice color,'"@@ Samantha mimics, shaking her head dramatically. @@.samantha;"Nope. It's your thing. Own it."@@ Jessica grins at the exchange, nudging you gently. @@.jessica;"Go on. Try it on. If you like the color that much, I bet you'll like how it feels too."@@ You nod and carefully pull the straps over your shoulders. After a bit of awkward fumbling with the clasp, it fastens, and you adjust the straps. The material settles smoothly against your skin, light, soft, and supportive. It feels... right. @@.player;"I really like this one,"@@ you say, surprised at how much you mean it. Jessica beams. @@.jessica;"See? I knew it. Looks like lavender wins again."@@ Samantha claps her hands together in celebration. @@.samantha;"Lavender-lover confirmed. This is a historic day."@@ Maybe they're right. Maybe lavender really //is// your thing. <<elseif $d18bra is 3>>\ <<set $braunlock[3] to true>>\ You spot it pretending not to be the most dramatic thing on the table. A lacy black bra. You pick it up slowly, holding it by the straps like you've just discovered something disgusting. The cups are trimmed with floral lace, semi-sheer at the top, soft fabric below. It's the kind of bra you'd expect to see in a moody perfume ad or on a mannequin with opinions about jazz. It's not as "safe" as the other options, but for some reason, that makes it more appealing. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you start, almost hesitating. @@.player;"I like this one."@@ Jessica leans over to get a better look, and a grin spreads across her face. @@.jessica;"Oooh,"@@ she teases, drawing the sound out just enough to make you roll your eyes. @@.jessica;"Risky. I didn't expect you to go for lace right out of the gate."@@ @@.player;"It's not—"@@ you begin, face heating up. @@.player;"I just... like how it looks, okay?"@@ Jessica's giggle softens into something warm. @@.jessica;"Look, I'm not judging. Honestly? I love it. It's a good kind of different."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ Samantha adds. @@.samantha;"Definitely not what I expected you to grab, but I'm here for it."@@ You take a breath, step back toward the mirror, and start slipping it on. It takes some adjusting, but once it's in place, it fits snugly without digging in. The lace sits smoothly, not itchy like you'd feared, and it gives you a shape that somehow makes you feel... more put together. Samantha lets out a low whistle. @@.samantha;"Damn,"@@ she says, half-joking but also not. @@.samantha;"Sexy. Didn't think we were jumping straight to the 'look at me' tier, but I've gotta respect it."@@ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ Jessica covers her mouth, still giggling. But when she finally speaks, her voice is softer than it was before. @@.jessica;"Samantha's not wrong. It really does suit you,"@@ she says, her eyes flicking back to the mirror and then quickly away. <<else>>\ Jessica covers her mouth, still giggling, her tone light and teasing. @@.jessica;"She's not wrong. Honestly, that style works way better on you than I expected,"@@ she says with an easy grin. <</if>>\ You turn back to the mirror, adjusting the straps. @@.player;"It... feels nice. I didn't think I'd like something like this, but I do."@@ Samantha grins, leaning back on the bench with a laugh. @@.samantha;"You're really making statements, huh?"@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Bra shopping begone!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 14">><</button>>

<<set $showbra to false>>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ The door gives a soft click as you push it open, stepping back into the store proper. The bra feels different under your top than anything you've worn before. You tug subtly at your shirt hem out of habit, but it's more nerves than discomfort. Jessica spots you first and beams, crossing her arms as she takes you in. @@.jessica;"Well?"@@ she asks. @@.jessica;"What's the ruling? Comfy?"@@ You roll your shoulders, letting yourself feel the difference. @@.player;"Honestly?"@@ you say, still half-surprised by the answer. @@.player;"Yeah. Way more than I thought it'd be. It actually feels good."@@ @@.jessica;"That's exactly what I was hoping to hear,"@@ she says, grin softening. Before you can respond, Riley materializes like she's been timing this perfectly. She swiftly makes her way to the register and smiles. @@.girl;"Find what you liked?"@@ she asks, already reaching for the scanner. You hand her the tag and the empty hanger. She scans them quickly, then pauses, tilting her head just slightly. @@.girl;"You wearing it out?"@@ she asks. You nod. She nods back. She tucks the tag, the receipt, and the now-empty hanger into a little paper bag. The bag is soft pink, glossy, with a folded tissue paper top and a sticker seal with the store's logo. You reach for your pocket, automatically, hand brushing your phone—only to be cut off by Samantha, who swoops in without ceremony. @@.samantha;"I've got it,"@@ she says, holding out her phone. You blink. @@.player;"Wait—no, Samantha, I can—"@@ She waves a hand at you without even looking. @@.samantha;"Don't care. Already decided. Milestone gift. First bra. It's happening."@@ You sputter. @@.player;"Sam—"@@ She's already holding her phone against the card reader. The terminal beeps, confirming the payment before you can get another word out. She grins triumphantly at the sound, looking you dead in the eye. @@.samantha;"Done. No takebacks."@@ Jessica laughs softly, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"You really do like turning everything into an event."@@ @@.samantha;"Uh, yeah?"@@ Samantha shoots back, stuffing her phone into her pocket. @@.samantha;"Because it //is// an event. That's, like, up there with getting your driver's license or learning how to cook spaghetti without setting off the smoke alarm."@@ You groan, half in embarrassment, half in amusement. @@.player;"It's really not that big of a deal."@@ @@.samantha;"It is,"@@ Samantha insists. @@.samantha;"And you can't stop me from commemorating it. You'll thank me later."@@ Riley just smiles politely, and hands you the bright pink bag. @@.girl;"There you go,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Congrats on the new purchase. And for what it's worth, that one's a good pick. You've got an eye."@@ You mumble a quick @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ still not entirely sure how to deal with being complimented on your bra choices by a stranger, but Jessica gives you a quick nudge. @@.jessica;"See? I ''knew'' you'd make a good choice."@@ You clutch the bag a little tighter, still flushed but kind of proud in a way you don't fully want to admit. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"I guess I did."@@ The three of you step out into the mall corridor together, the hum of voices and music rushing back around you. Jessica matches her pace to yours. @@.jessica;"So, how does it feel?"@@ she asks lightly. @@.jessica;"Wearing something that actually works for you."@@ @@.player;"Weird,"@@ you admit, then add with a small smile, @@.player;"but good. It's... comfortable."@@ @@.jessica;"Good,"@@ Jessica says simply, giving you an approving little nod. Samantha drapes an arm over your shoulders as you walk. @@.samantha;"Welcome to the bra club, my dude. Next stop: expanding your wardrobe. But for now? You're officially out of the 'I'm just wearing whatever' stage. I'm proud of you."@@ You roll your eyes, but can't help laughing, hugging the pink bag to your chest as you leave the store with them. The whole ordeal didn't feel scary or embarrassing. It just felt like ''progress''. And maybe, just maybe, you actually earned that little pink bag. <<button "Bra acquired" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 15">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Choice">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<set $topUnlock to []>>\ <<set $pantsUnlock to []>>\ <<set $outfitUnlock to []>>\ <<set $shoeUnlock to []>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock to [false]>>\ \ <<if $hairtie is 1 or $currenthairtie is 1>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[1] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 2 or $currenthairtie is 2>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[2] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 3 or $currenthairtie is 3>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[3] to true>>\ <<elseif $hairtie is 4 or $currenthairtie is 4>>\ <<set $hairtieUnlock[4] to true>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $hairacessoriesUnlock to []>>\ The moment the three of you step out of the bra store, the mall greets you again like it never left—cool, polished tile beneath your shoes, neon signs flickering lazily overhead, and the background hum of a hundred lives in motion. Somewhere off in the distance, a child is begging for Nibblin' Nubs, and someone else's ringtone plays a muffled K-pop hook. Samantha stretches her arms overhead like she just finished a workout, rolling her shoulders dramatically. @@.samantha;"And that was step one in your glorious character arc,"@@ she declares. @@.samantha;"Now comes the fun part."@@ You glance over. @@.player;"That wasn't the fun part?"@@ @@.samantha;"Oh no. That was the emotionally meaningful part. Very 'soft piano plays in the background while the camera zooms in on your face.' This,"@@ she gestures to the buzzing mall ahead, @@.samantha;"is where we cue the upbeat music and the spinning clothing racks montage."@@ Jessica laughs lightly, covering her mouth with her hand. @@.jessica;"Samantha, you are ''so'' dramatic,"@@ she says, though she doesn't look like she minds it. Samantha spins to face her, walking backward now with the kind of reckless confidence only Samantha would have. @@.samantha;"It's called adding //flavor//, Jessica. Try it sometime."@@ Jessica rolls her eyes but smirks anyway. @@.jessica;"Uh-huh. So what's next on this epic character journey? I assume it involves more than you just dragging $name to stores that sell T-shirts with some crazy designs on them."@@ @@.samantha;"Funny you should mention that,"@@ Samantha says, grinning like she's been waiting for this. @@.samantha;"I vote we hit Threadz. Loud graphic tees, hoodies that look like they've been through a war, jeans that say 'I have opinions,' the works. It's a spiritual experience."@@ Jessica stops dead in her tracks, staring at her. @@.jessica;"Threadz?"@@ she repeats, like Samantha just said she wanted to shop for clothes in a gas station. @@.jessica;"Seriously? Who even still goes there in 2024?"@@ @@.samantha;"Excuse me?"@@ Samantha puts a hand to her chest like she's been physically wounded. @@.samantha;"I still go there. Regularly."@@ @@.jessica;"Exactly my point,"@@ Jessica fires back. @@.jessica;"Threadz is for people who think it's still 2009 and want to relive their MySpace glory days. NovaTrend is right there. Why would you //not// want to go to NovaTrend?"@@ @@.samantha;"Because,"@@ Samantha says, putting her hands on her hips like she's about to make a speech, @@.samantha;"NovaTrend is overpriced, fake aesthetic nonsense that pretends to be effortless while charging you eighty bucks for a jacket that disintegrates if you look at it wrong."@@ Jessica gasps like Samantha just insulted her family. @@.jessica;"It is not fake! It's curated. There's a difference. Plus, their fall line dropped a few months ago, and it's //amazing//. Cropped jackets, oversized sweaters, actual style—"@@ @@.samantha;"Style that looks like everyone else's style,"@@ Samantha cuts in. @@.samantha;"You don't shop at NovaTrend, you get assimilated by it."@@ Jessica narrows her eyes at her but doesn't lose her poise. @@.jessica;"You're impossible."@@ @@.samantha;"And you're basic,"@@ Samantha counters immediately, though her grin gives away she's not actually mad. You glance between them, half-amused, half-worried this will turn into an actual fight. @@.player;"Do... I get a say in this?"@@ @@.samantha;"N@@@@.jessica;o,"@@ Samantha and Jessica say at the same time. @@.player;"Cool. Glad I asked."@@ Jessica turns to you with an encouraging smile, still holding onto her composure. @@.jessica;"If you want something that's modern, versatile, and won't make people wonder if you live at the skatepark, we should go to NovaTrend."@@ @@.samantha;"And if you want clothes that have //personality// and don't look like they were designed by an algorithm,"@@ Samantha chimes in, pointing toward Threadz, @@.samantha;"you know where we're going."@@ You exhale, staring at both stores in the distance like they're about to judge you for making the wrong choice. @@.player;"Why do I feel like this is a trap no matter what I pick?"@@ @@.samantha;"Because it is,"@@ Samantha says immediately. Jessica smiles sweetly. @@.jessica;"But we'll still love you. Probably."@@ You pinch the bridge of your nose. @@.player;"Great. No pressure."@@ @@.samantha;"All the pressure,"@@ Samantha says cheerfully, slapping you lightly on the back. @@.samantha;"Pick your destiny, dude."@@ Jessica clasps her hands like she's praying. @@.jessica;"And pick correctly."@@ You sigh, shaking your head. @@.player;"This feels less like shopping and more like hazing."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly!"@@ Samantha says brightly, and you can't even be annoyed because they're both clearly having //way// too much fun at your expense. And just like that, you're standing at the fork in the road, their expectant eyes on you, like the next step in your "character arc" is about to be decided right here. <<button "Head to NovaTrend" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica NovaTrend">><<set $jessfirst to true>><</button>> <<button "Head to Threadz" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Threadz">><<set $jessfirst to false>><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> The three of you wander out into the main concourse again, the contrasting vibe of the last two stores still clinging you like static. The curated calm of NovaTrend and the sensory overload of Threadz made you feel like you were on two completely different planets, and now you're back in neutral territory. Jessica takes a moment to smooth her hair. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"That was... productive. But we're not done. There are still options."@@ Samantha falls into step beside you, sticking her hands deep into the pockets of her baggy jeans. @@.samantha;"Define 'options,'"@@ she says, drawing out the word like she already knows she's not going to like half of them. Jessica ticks them off with her fingers. @@.jessica;"ShatterBox, Blink + Shine, StepUp Footwear, and Cuddle Creations."@@ @@.samantha;"Okay, so, let's translate that,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Dark-and-edgy emo cave, a glitter bomb disguised as a store, the shoe maze, and a place where you'll drown in stuffed animals."@@ @@.jessica;"Or, if you wanna be less dramatic, stylish alt fashion, a fun accessories spot, a versatile shoe store, and, yes, a plushie haven."@@ Samantha grins. @@.samantha;"I can't tell the difference."@@ @@.player;"Look, I'm still trying to process how I survived the last two stores,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Maybe let me breathe before we sign me up for more rounds."@@ @@.jessica;"Survived?"@@ Jessica repeats with a smirk. @@.jessica;"Come on, $name. You //thrived//."@@ @@.player;"I tolerated,"@@ you say. Samantha leans a little closer, squinting at you like she's trying to read your mind. @@.samantha;"You're not actually dreading this, are you? Come on, you've //got// to admit it—you're kinda having fun."@@ @@.player;"You got me there,"@@ you reply, chuckling. @@.jessica;"StepUp is a solid choice,"@@ Jessica comments. @@.jessica;"We haven't even discussed shoes. Trust me when I say the right pair can make or break an outfit. According to Sam, you've been wearing those ragged Converses since, what, middle school?"@@ @@.player;"They're comfortable,"@@ you protest. @@.jessica;"I'm sure they are,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"But more options never hurt."@@ You glance between the stores, the options swirling in your head. There are four stores with four completely different vibes. And you have to choose. ''ShatterBox'' has dark walls, racks of fishnets, studded belts, combat boots, and merchandise from bands you don't even recognize. Mesh sleeves and eyeliner are practically required. ''Blink + Shine'' is so sparkly it's practically vibrating. Hair clips, lip gloss, and enamel pins shaped like raccoons are on display. ''StepUp Footwear'', a staple of the Crestview Bay mall, has so many shoes it nearly makes you dizzy. ''Cuddle Creations'' has so many adorable stuffed animals that the cuteness might just overwhelm you. You take a deep breath, scanning the glowing signs ahead, and make your decision. <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ <<set $temp3 to false>>\ <<set $temp4 to false>>\ <<set $temp5 to false>>\ <<button "Head to ShatterBox" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica ShatterBox">><</button>> <<button "Head to Blink + Shine" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Blink + Shine">><</button>> <<button "Head to StepUp Footwear" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica StepUp">><</button>> <<button "Head to Cuddle Creations" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Cuddle Creations">><</button>> <<button "Head to the changing rooms" "Closet">><</button>>

<<if $money is 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "BrokeMall">>\ <</if>>\ <img src="img/bg/mall.png"> The walk back through the mall is a mosaic of shopping bags and tired feet, storefront windows still doing their best to lure you in even though you've both hit your browsing limit. You end up in the center of the mall, where there's a big fountain that you've passed at least six times today. It feels weirdly like coming full circle. Samantha immediately collapses onto the nearest bench like she's been mortally wounded. She flings some shopping bags onto the ground with an exaggerated sigh. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she groans, slumping back like the bench has become her deathbed. @@.samantha;"This is it. My final resting place. Tell the world I died bravely in the battle of Retail Armageddon."@@ Jessica sits down more gracefully on the other side, smoothing her skirt with one hand while balancing some shopping bags in the other. @@.jessica;"You're so dramatic,"@@ she says lightly, though her tone carries just enough warmth to soften the jab. @@.jessica;"We barely walked a mile, Sam. You didn't even try anything on."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you add, taking the spot in the middle. @@.player;"You did a whole lot of sitting and judging, which I'm not sure counts as cardio."@@ Samantha tips her head toward you, squinting one eye. @@.samantha;"Listen, $name. I walked emotionally. That burns more calories than you think."@@ Jessica rolls her eyes but grins. @@.jessica;"You know that's not a thing, right?"@@ @@.samantha;"It is now,"@@ Samantha replies, folding her arms like that ends the debate. @@.player;"You two are ridiculous,"@@ you say as you stretch out your legs. Jessica glances at the bags in your lap. @@.jessica;"You actually found some good stuff today, though. I'm impressed."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I guess I did."@@ Samantha sits up a little. @@.samantha;"You definitely did. Even if I can't relate to half of it. I mean, look at me."@@ She gestures to herself. @@.samantha;"Do I scream 'soft pastels' to you?"@@ @@.player;"Not even a little,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.samantha;"Exactly."@@ Jessica leans in conspiratorially, pointing a manicured finger at Samantha. @@.jessica;"You'd look good in pastels. Admit it."@@ @@.samantha;"Blasphemy,"@@ Samantha says immediately. @@.samantha;"I'm a dark creature of hoodies and sarcasm. You can't just... pastel-ify that."@@ @@.jessica;"You're just scared of a little color,"@@ Jessica singsongs. Samantha pretends to gag. @@.samantha;"And glitter. Don't forget glitter."@@ You laugh. It just all feels so easy. Lighter than most of the day. Samantha suddenly lets out another loud groan. @@.samantha;"Okay, but for real? I'm starving. Like, I could eat the entire food court. Even the cardboard pizza and weird smoothies."@@ Jessica perks up at that. @@.jessica;"Oh, finally. I was wondering how long it would take for you to say that. I've been thinking about those pretzel bites since we walked in here."@@ @@.player;"I mean,"@@ you say, gesturing vaguely toward the escalator, @@.player;"we could go to the food court?"@@ Samantha lifts her head slowly. @@.samantha;"Could we? Dare we? Will our weary legs carry us that far?"@@ @@.jessica;"You were literally fine two minutes ago,"@@ Jessica points out, standing and slinging her bags over her arm. @@.jessica;"Come on. It's food. That's all the motivation you need."@@ You stand too, offering Samantha your hand. @@.player;"Come on, my overworked friend. I promise there'll be carbs."@@ She takes your hand and stands up. @@.samantha;"Ugh. If I collapse on the way there, just roll me in the direction of carbs."@@ And with that, the three of you march onward toward your well-earned nourishment, your bags swaying gently with each step. <<button "Food!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 18">><</button>>

The food court is buzzing with the usual chaos—laughter, trays clattering, the hum of soda machines, and the comforting scent of everything fried, grilled, or baked in bulk. You, Samantha, and Jessica push your way through the flow of shoppers until you spot a table near the center—close enough to the food counter but far enough away from the kids. The table wobbles a little as you touch it, and the plastic chairs are unforgivingly hard. Classic mall food court. @@.samantha;"Finally,"@@ Samantha says, throwing herself into a chair like she's just finished an Olympic event. @@.samantha;"If I had to endure one more boutique, I was gonna pass out."@@ @@.jessica;"You survived, though,"@@ Jessica says, sitting next to her. @@.jessica;"And for what it's worth, you don't exactly seem like you hated it."@@ @@.samantha;"You saw me in Blink + Shine, I looked really out of place,"@@ Samantha deadpans. You plop down across from them, letting your shopping bags settle around your feet. @@.player;"To be fair, you didn't exactly try to blend in."@@ @@.jessica;"Anyway,"@@ Jessica says, segueing the conversation. @@.jessica;"Before one of us dies from hunger, what do you want? My treat."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Wait. What?"@@ Jessica digs into her purse and pulls out a card, sliding it across the table toward you. It's sleek, shiny, and way too fancy for this mall. A bright, silvery-blue thing with embossed letters. It takes you a second to process. @@.player;"Is... is this an American Distress Platinum? Holy shit."@@ @@.jessica;"Yep,"@@ Jessica says, but there's no real shine behind it. @@.jessica;"It's my dad's account, but... it's basically mine. Perks of being an only child."@@ The words feel like they should be smug, but she delivers them with the energy of someone reciting a fact. Her fingers drum against the table once before going still. You tilt your head. @@.player;"That... sounds nice?"@@ Jessica shrugs, her ponytail shifting with the movement. @@.jessica;"It's... whatever. They don't really care what I spend, as long as I don't do anything 'embarrassing.'"@@ She says it with a mocking little air-quote gesture, but it doesn't land like a joke. Samantha eyes her. @@.samantha;"So, they just give you free rein on a platinum card and call it a day? That's kind of wild, Jess."@@ Jessica gives a small, brittle smile. @@.jessica;"That's just how it is. They're busy. Always have been. You learn to, you know..."@@ She waves her hand vaguely, like she's brushing off smoke. @@.jessica;"Handle yourself."@@ There's a pause that feels heavier than it should. You shift in your seat. @@.player;"That sounds like a lot."@@ Jessica meets your gaze for half a second, then looks away, like you caught her saying too much. @@.jessica;"It's fine. I'm used to it. Anyway, go get your food. Pick whatever you want."@@ Her voice lightens, but only on the surface. You glance down at the card in your hand, its metallic sheen reflecting the mall's bright food court lights. It suddenly feels heavier than it should. You clear your throat. @@.player;"Alright. Guess I'll... figure out what I want."@@ You scan the nearby stalls, where a number of choices are spread out in front of you. Pizza Hüt is a proud European chain that acts like putting an umlaut in the name makes their pizza cultured. The pizza's fine, but the crust is oddly sweet and the pepperoni looks like it was printed on. It's the kind of spot you eat at and then wonder if maybe you were just really hungry. Loud branding, flat burgers, and enough sauce to coat your soul. That's Burgur Kween. The combo deals are suspiciously cheap, and everything comes wrapped in foil with marketing slogans like "SLAY THE CRAVE." It doesn't help the fact that their burgers look like they've been sat on, though. Kansas Fried Poultry is the home of greasy chicken and coleslaw no one ever finishes. It was founded by General Thatch, whose portrait still hangs in every location—white suit, bolo tie, and a thousand-yard stare. They swear by their "Legendary Eleven-Dust Blend™"—you're pretty sure most of the taste comes down to the MSG though. No one knows what's in the gravy, but you eat it anyway. General Thatch would want you to be brave. Tacko Bong is Tex-Mex, but barely. You order it because it smells good, then immediately question your decisions mid-bite. It's fast, cheap, and tastes decent going in. But let's be honest here—you know what happens next. There's a reason why every bathroom stall near a Tacko Bong is mysteriously out of order. Koala Express is an aggressively average Chinese fast-food chain that's somehow in every mall, airport, and food court, even though no one remembers it actually opening. The food is comforting in a suspiciously consistent way. The real mystery is the mascot: a grinning koala in a silk robe, holding chopsticks. No one knows why exactly an Australian marsupial is representing orange chicken, and the brand has never explained it. You're not here for the authenticity though—you're here because it smells good and hits the same way every time. You weigh your options. <<button "Pizza Hüt" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 19">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Pizza Hüt" "story">><</button>> <<button "Burgur Kween" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 19">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Burgur Kween" "story">><</button>> <<button "KFP - Kansas Fried Poultry" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 19">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "KFP - Kansas Fried Poultry" "story">><</button>> <<button "Tacko Bong" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 19">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Tacko Bong" "story">><</button>> <<button "Koala Express" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 19">>\<<set $d18foodcourt to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourt" "Koala Express" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18foodcourt is 0>>\ You approach the glowing red sign of Pizza Hüt—"Est. in Düsseldorf" printed beneath it in proud serif font. It's like you're entering enemy territory. The whole stall has a certain... vibe. Cold efficiency. The staff wear crisp red aprons and stare at you like they've been trained in the harshest of kitchens. The guy at the counter is tall, severe, and looks like his soul was forged in a bread oven. His name tag just reads ''GÜNTER''. @@.boy;"Willkommen to ze Hüt,"@@ he says, with zero inflection. @@.boy;"You vill be having ze pizza, ya?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"Uh... yeah. Just a slice of pepperoni—"@@ @@.boy;"Peperoniwurst."@@ He types something with aggressive precision. You look at the menu. It's //technically// in English, but every word has been rebranded into something that nears parody. Zauce, Krustenplatte, Mozarrella der Schmeltz. There's a combo meal called "Die Trilogie der Käse." It's just a three-cheese pizza. @@.player;"What drink comes with it?"@@ you ask. He doesn't answer. He just slides you a room-temperature orange soda with the label peeled off. You're not convinced it's carbonated. Or legal. Five minutes later, your slice arrives in a little cardboard tray printed with the phrase "Life ist kurz. Eat die Hüt." There's a parsley leaf on it. You carry the tray back through the chaotic food court, the scent of your slice trailing behind you like a warning. Jessica spots you first, leaning forward in her chair as you approach. @@.jessica;"Finally,"@@ she says, glancing at the tray. @@.jessica;"Oh my God, you actually went to Pizza Hüt?"@@ @@.player;"I wanted pizza,"@@ you state simply, setting the little tray down on the table with a quiet thud. @@.samantha;"Eat die Hüt?"@@ Samantha reads aloud, making a face. @@.samantha;"That sounds like a threat, $name. Did you just buy food or enlist in the German military?"@@ You plop into your chair. @@.player;"Both. Probably."@@ Jessica leans over the table to get a better look. @@.jessica;"Is that parsley?"@@ @@.player;"Apparently,"@@ you say, gesturing vaguely to the lone, limp leaf perched on your slice like an afterthought. @@.player;"The guy at the counter, Günter, gave it to me. He didn't smile. Didn't blink either. I think he was judging me for existing."@@ @@.jessica;"It's just Pizza Hüt, I guess,"@@ Jessica says, laughing. @@.player;"No,"@@ you state. @@.player;"This is not 'just' pizza. This is... a cultural exchange program disguised as a fast-food chain. Everything on that menu sounded like it was crafted by a mad linguist. Do you know what a three-cheese pizza is at Pizza Hüt? 'Die Trilogie der Käse.'"@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"Sounds like an avant-garde art piece."@@ @@.player;"Exactly."@@ You nod gravely. @@.player;"And they didn't even ask what drink I wanted. Günter just slid me an orange soda. Room temperature. Label gone. Like it was contraband."@@ Jessica tilts her head, intrigued despite herself. @@.jessica;"Are you still gonna drink it?"@@ You pop open the soda and take a long sip. @@.player;"This is diplomacy, Jessica."@@ Samantha leans back, smirking. @@.samantha;"So what's the verdict?"@@ You take a bite of the pizza. It's chewy, sweet-sauced, faintly peppery, and inexplicably... orderly. You swallow, then meet their eyes with the gravitas of someone who has stared into the abyss and found mozzarella. @@.player;"The Hüt delivers,"@@ you say simply. @@.jessica;"It's just mall pizza!"@@ Jessica says, bursting out laughing. @@.player;"Mall pizza with structure,"@@ you correct. Samantha gestures at the tray. @@.samantha;"You know what? This is your villain origin story. Next week you're showing up to school in a red apron, talking about 'ze discipline of ze crust.'"@@ @@.player;"Meh,"@@ you say, holding the slice and taking another bite. @@.player;"If that happens, it'll be worth it."@@ @@.jessica;"Honestly? I kind of want to try it now."@@ Jessica says. @@.player;"Don't,"@@ you respond solemnly. @@.player;"You're not ready."@@ Samantha cackles. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, this is amazing. $name's been converted. Pizza Hüt is a cult, and we've lost him."@@ @@.player;"If this is a cult, at least the pizza's decent,"@@ you state, shrugging. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 1>>\ The scent of flame-grilled something smacks you the moment you pass under the neon crown-shaped sign. Burgur Kween isn't quiet. The whole place radiates confidence, hot grease, and glittery chaos. Purple lights frame the menu board. The soda machine's blasting music. And the staff? They are living in the moment. Behind the counter stands a tall server with long acrylic nails, gold hoop earrings, and a perfectly tied apron that looks more like a fashion statement than a uniform. Their name tag reads "Miss Patty", in Sharpie, with a tiny lipstick kiss drawn next to it. @@.girl;"Well hellooo, look who just stepped into the best restaurant in town, honey,"@@ they say, leaning dramatically on the counter. @@.girl;"What's your vibe today? Feeling crunchy? Crispy? Or just //extra//?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"Um... just a cheeseburger?"@@ Miss Patty places one hand on their hip and gasps. @@.girl;"//Just// a cheeseburger? Baby, no. We don't do 'just' here. We do bold, juicy, life-changing."@@ Someone in the back yells, @@.boy;"Drop a royal patty and crown it, darling!"@@ Patty turns back to you. @@.girl;"That's for you, sweetness."@@ You look up at the menu, which is a fever dream of specials with names like "The Glam Stack," "Double Drama," and "The Untucked Combo." You order a single burger and fries, and Patty nods like you've chosen your house for the season. @@.girl;"Ooh, a classic. Simple. Confident. I respect it. You don't need the extra sauce—you //are// the flavor."@@ They slide your receipt across the counter with a wink. @@.girl;"Grab a straw with attitude, not one of those flimsy basic ones."@@ You return to the table with a tray that looks like it just walked off a stage. Even the burger is wrapped in paper that says "SLAY ALL DAY" in all caps with glitter-print ink. Jessica's the first to notice when you sit back down. Her eyes eventually land on the crown. @@.jessica;"Oh my God,"@@ she says, breaking into a grin. @@.jessica;"They gave you a hat. Did you just get knighted or something?"@@ @@.player;"Uh, no,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"I got crowned. There's a difference. Burgur Kween doesn't serve food. They serve an experience."@@ Samantha leans forward, resting her chin on her hand, grinning like she can't wait for this. @@.samantha;"Oh, this I've gotta hear. What happened?"@@ You unwrap the burger. @@.player;"I walked in, and the cashier—Miss Patty—looked at me like they could see into my soul and asked if I was feeling crunchy, crispy, or extra."@@ Jessica giggles. @@.jessica;"So which one are you?"@@ @@.player;"Well, I was hoping I'd be something fun, but I ended up with a classic,"@@ you say. Samantha bursts out laughing. @@.samantha;"Shit, $name. They saw you and decided to do a character assessment?"@@ @@.player;"Pretty much,"@@ you say, biting in the burger. It's perfect—messy, greasy, and way better than it has any right to be. @@.player;"Also, someone in the back yelled 'Drop a royal patty and crown it, darling!' while they made my order. I think that might just be the best thing I've ever heard."@@ @@.jessica;"I love this place,"@@ Jessica exclaims, clapping her hands together. @@.jessica;"I used to come here after shopping. They hype everyone up like they're about to walk a runway instead of just... sitting in a food court."@@ @@.player;"Exactly!"@@ you say. @@.player;"I didn't just buy a burger. I ascended."@@ Samantha side-eyes the crown on your tray. @@.samantha;"Yeah, and then they gave you a paper hat like you're five. Truly majestic."@@ @@.player;"Don't disrespect the crown,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"It's a symbol of power."@@ @@.samantha;"Just eat your royal meal, Your Highness,"@@ Samantha states. You take another bite of the burger. Maybe, just maybe, you belong in the Kween's court. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 2>>\ The smell hits you before the sign does—grease, salt, black pepper, and a kind of smoky defiance that makes it clear you didn't come here to be healthy. Kansas Fried Poultry squats in the corner of the food court like it owns the mall. The logo's just a silhouette of the state of Kansas wearing a cowboy hat, and the man behind the myth—General Thatch—is everywhere. His framed portrait hangs behind the counter, squinting like he's seen combat and invented cornbread in the same week. His statue holds a chicken drumstick like it's the Declaration of Independence. There's even a tattered American flag above the counter. The counter girl's leanin' on the register like it owes her money. Her faded name tag just says Mary-Beth and her apron's got cornbread batter scars. @@.girl;"Well, hey there, sugar,"@@ she drawls, voice slow as sweet tea left out in August. @@.girl;"You look like somebody with a deep hunger and questionable judgment. Lemme fix that fer ya."@@ You open your mouth to ask a question, but she's already shaking her head. @@.girl;"Nuh uh. We don't do menus. We do chicken. Hot, proud, and real enough to bring a tear to your meemaw's eye."@@ She turns and bellows into the back without looking. @@.girl;"Drop two thighs in the fire! And throw a mercy biscuit in there too, bless their heart!"@@ She slaps a bucket on the counter with a thud that feels spiritual. @@.girl;"Y'all enjoy now,"@@ Mary-Beth says, wiping her hands on a rag that might've fought in the war. @@.girl;"And if it don't light a fire in yer chest, we'll bury ya with honor."@@ You carry it back to the table like it's holy. Jessica's eyes widen immediately. @@.jessica;"Oh my God. You didn't just get food, $name. You got... something special."@@ @@.samantha;"That smell is illegal,"@@ Samantha states, taking a deep breath. @@.samantha;"You walk past other people with that bucket and they're gonna start floating like cartoon creatures when they smell pie on a windowsill."@@ You pull out a drumstick, the crispy skin glistening, and hold it up solemnly. @@.player;"The woman at the counter, Mary-Beth, called me 'sugar,' insulted my life choices, and then blessed me with this. I think I might be baptized now."@@ @@.jessica;"Did you even get to order?"@@ Jessica asks, leaning forward on her elbows. @@.player;"No, 'cause she decided for me,"@@ you say, shaking your head in awe. @@.player;"I tried to ask what combos they had, and she literally waved me off and yelled at someone in the back to 'drop two thighs in the fire and throw in a mercy biscuit.' I didn't even //know// what a mercy biscuit was."@@ Samantha squints at the bucket. @@.samantha;"A mercy biscuit sounds like something you eat after signing your last will and testament. Like, asking for mercy for what you're about to do to your arteries."@@ You take a bite of the drumstick, and the skin cracks like a gunshot. It's spicy in a way that feels personal. @@.player;"Holy shit,"@@ you manage. @@.player;"This isn't chicken. This is... like... //history//. General Thatch didn't just fry a bird. He created a movement."@@ Jessica snorts. @@.jessica;"Okay, relax. It's just fried poultry."@@ @@.player;"You don't understand,"@@ you say. @@.player;"There's a tattered American flag hanging in that place. And a statue of General Thatch holding a drumstick like it's the Constitution. They don't serve chicken. They serve patriotism in a bucket."@@ @@.samantha;"I bet patriotism tastes pretty damn good,"@@ Samantha says. @@.player;"It's ''definitely'' worth the calories,"@@ you say, taking another bite. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 3>>\ The closer you get to Tacko Bong, the more it smells like a college dorm microwave and the inside of a tortilla chip bag. Not bad, necessarily—just chaotic. There's a faded mural on the wall of a cactus wearing sunglasses and a beanie, holding a burrito like it's the Holy Grail. A little sign on the register reads: "Now Hiring. No Snitches." The guy behind the counter has half-lidded eyes and a name tag that says "Chaz", drawn in Sharpie. He's got a bandana tied around his head and a string of hot sauce pockets clipped to his belt like ammo. He stares at you for a long second after you approach. Almost as if he's buffering. @@.boy;"...Yo,"@@ he says finally. @@.boy;"You, uh... hungry?"@@ You nod. He nods too. @@.boy;"That's sick. Me too, man."@@ There's no real menu—just a few laminated photos taped crookedly to the sneeze guard. Cruncho Loco Supreme, Nacho Nacho Situation, and the Mystery Quesadilla (No Refunds). @@.boy;"I can, like... throw some stuff in a tortilla?"@@ Chaz offers. @@.boy;"We got beans. Probably."@@ A second guy appears from the back. You didn't hear him come out. His name tag says "Spoon", and he's holding a ladle full of neon-yellow cheese like it's a sacred artifact. @@.boy;"Dude, you want the drip?"@@ he asks. @@.boy;"We got the drip."@@ You pause. @@.player;"What exactly is the drip?"@@ He gestures at the ladle. @@.boy;"This. This is the drip."@@ Chaz nods solemnly behind him, @@.boy;"It's, like, spiritual."@@ You order something that sounds vaguely like a taco, hand over the card, and watch as they begin to construct your meal with an intense focus. There's a lot of unlabelled containers. You choose not to ask. Minutes later, you're handed a loosely wrapped bundle of tortilla, heat, and vibes. It drips. You're not sure what. But it drips. You return to the table holding your food carefully. The wrapper is already translucent from whatever's inside it—steam curling upward like it's trying to escape. It smells like melted cheese and danger. Samantha looks at it. Then at you. Then back at it. @@.samantha;"$name... what the hell did you just buy? That looks like it's been legally classified as a biohazard in at least a few states."@@ @@.jessica;"Oh my God, is that from Tacko Bong?"@@ Jessica asks, grinning. @@.jessica;"I've //always// wanted to try it, but like... I didn't want to die young."@@ You peel back the wrapper, revealing a structurally unsound tortilla filled with... stuff. @@.player;"I don't know what this is,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"The guy who made it called it 'a transcendental bean event.'"@@ Samantha blinks. @@.samantha;"...He said that out loud?"@@ @@.player;"Yes,"@@ you say, nodding seriously. @@.player;"And then his coworker asked if I 'wanted the drip.' I still don't know what that means. I just said yes."@@ Jessica's laughing now, covering her mouth with her hand. @@.jessica;"The drip. You just let them put //mystery drip// in your food? $name, that's how urban legends start."@@ You lift the wrap slightly so they can see the neon-yellow ooze pooling at the bottom. @@.player;"This is the drip."@@ Samantha leans away like it might jump at you. @@.samantha;"That looks like what happens when you leave nacho cheese out in the sun for a week. $name, I mean this in the kindest way possible, don't eat that. You have so much to live for."@@ You take a slow bite. Both of them just stare at you, waiting for your reaction like you're a science experiment about to explode. It's hot. It's gooey. It tastes like every processed impulse you've ever had at midnight, wrapped in a tortilla and blessed by a divine entity. You swallow, staring down at it with a kind of distant respect. @@.player;"...This is incredible."@@ Jessica leans in. @@.jessica;"You're kidding."@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you say, taking another bite. @@.player;"It's comfort food."@@ Samantha squints at you. @@.samantha;"You're gonna regret that in like four hours. Maybe less."@@ @@.player;"Probably,"@@ you agree, taking another bite anyway. Jessica laughs and grabs a napkin from the dispenser, tossing at at you. @@.jessica;"At least don't drip 'the drip' on yourself. That stuff doesn't look like it comes out of clothes."@@ @@.player;"I doubt it would,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I just didn't ask too many questions. Tacko Bong isn't about answers. It's about the journey."@@ @@.jessica;"You're braver than I am,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Or dumber."@@ @@.player;"Why not both?"@@ you say before taking another bite. And even as Samantha mutters something about you being a lost cause, you can't help but think: she might be right. But you also can't stop eating. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 4>>\ You spot the waving golden cat before anything else—perched proudly on the counter of Koala Express, its paw moving in slow, hypnotic arcs like it knows something you don't. The menu board glows red and gold, slick with laminated sheen, listing a staggering number of combos and sides. Every single one comes with two entrées and a side. The trays are already stacked, wide enough to double as life rafts. The server behind the counter doesn't look up as she greets you. @@.girl;"Hi, welcome to Koala Express. Do you want a combo or box today?"@@ You glance down at the steam table. There's orange chicken glistening like a sunset, beef and broccoli soaking in sauce, and fried rice piled so high it's got elevation. Everything smells like soy sauce and sugar. @@.player;"A combo?"@@ you offer. @@.girl;"Good choice. Two entrées, one side. Orange chicken?"@@ She's already spooning it into your tray before you nod. You pick a second dish. It doesn't really matter what you choose, they all look like they've been prepared by someone who knows what your soul needs and doesn't believe in small portions. The food is heaped on like gravity's on break. By the time she finishes adding a scoop of chow mein, your tray weighs more than your dignity. She throws in a crushed fortune cookie and an extra packet of soy sauce for "flavor insurance." Then comes the plastic lid, taped shut with serious intent. It barely fits. You nod your thanks, hand sinking under the weight as you turn to head back. You return to the table like a weary traveler dragging home his spoils, the Koala Express tray balanced in your hands like a brick of hot, edible treasure. The lid is puffed up like it's trying to escape the contents, held together by one brave piece of tape and sheer determination. You set the tray down with a //thud// that makes Samantha jump. @@.samantha;"Holy—"@@ Samantha leans forward, eyes wide. @@.samantha;"$name, did you just order for the entire football team? That tray has its own gravitational pull."@@ You peel the plastic lid back, steam billowing upward like you're opening a portal to another realm. @@.player;"It's a combo meal,"@@ you say, as if that explains the absurd mountain of food. @@.player;"Two entrées. One side. They didn't warn me it'd come with an existential crisis."@@ Jessica leans in from across the table. @@.jessica;"Oh my God, that looks amazing."@@ She tilts her head, frowning thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"But also... that is //so much// orange chicken. Are you even allowed to take that much in one sitting? Isn't there a law or something?"@@ @@.player;"If there is, they don't enforce it,"@@ you say, blowing on the chicken carefully. @@.player;"Koala Express has no laws. Only portions."@@ Samantha squints at the chow mein piled so high it could qualify as a small mountain. @@.samantha;"That noodle mound has altitude. I think it's staring back at me."@@ @@.player;"Good,"@@ you say between bites. @@.player;"That means it respects you."@@ Jessica giggles, poking the fortune cookie toward you. @@.jessica;"What does it say?"@@ You unwrap it, crack it, and fish the crumpled paper from the rice. @@.player;"Let me see,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It says 'You are full of potential. And also rice.'"@@ @@.samantha;"That's not a fortune,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"That's a cry for help."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Well, it //is// accurate. I am currently about 80% rice."@@ Jessica shakes her head, laughing. @@.jessica;"At least they're honest. You basically have a week's worth of meals in there. You could survive an apocalypse with that tray."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, but I wouldn't survive long,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'd eat in all in one sitting and be too bloated to move."@@ @@.samantha;"I am ''not'' carrying you out of here when you slip into a food coma,"@@ Samantha warns. @@.samantha;"Jessica can, though. She's tall. Built for it."@@ Jessica tosses a crumpled napkin at her. @@.jessica;"That's now how it works."@@ You lean back in your chair. @@.player;"If I pass out, just leave me here. This is where I live now. Among the chow mein."@@ @@.jessica;"Well, at least you're happy about it,"@@ Jessica comments. And honestly? You are. For all its chaotic energy and the sheer volume of food staring you down, Koala Express delivers. It's too much at once in the best possible way. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 20">><</button>>

<<set $money += 100>>\ You slip your phone into your pocket and take a deep breath. The house is quiet in that soft way it gets in the afternoon—sunlight filtering through the windows, the hum of the dryer spinning low in the background, and the faint scent of fabric softener floating in from down the hall. You head toward the laundry room, where you can already hear the familiar rustling of folded towels and the occasional thunk of the basket being adjusted on top of the dryer. Your mom's standing there, sleeves pushed up, folding a warm pile of towels with practiced ease. There's a little smudge of something—probably flour—on her cheek from earlier, and her hair's tied up in a messy bun, a few strands curling loose at her temples. She looks over when she hears your footsteps. @@.girl;"Hey, sweetie. Need something?"@@ You hesitate in the doorway for a second, then step inside and lean against the wall, watching her work. @@.player;"Kind of. I, uh... was thinking of going shopping."@@ She raises an eyebrow, folding the towel in her hands into a perfect rectangle. @@.girl;"Shopping?"@@ There's a flicker of surprise in her voice, though not in a bad way. More like someone just heard a cat bark. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"Like, for clothes. Stuff that fits better, maybe."@@ @@.girl;"Hmm."@@ Another towel joins the stack. @@.girl;"Okay. And who's dragging you out for this mission?"@@ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ @@.player;"Samantha,"@@ you say automatically, then add, @@.player;"and... Jessica."@@ Your mom pauses just enough to let you know she caught the difference in your tone. @@.girl;"Jessica?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, trying to sound casual, though you can feel your face warming a little. @@.player;"Jessica Sanders. She's the cheer captain—you know, from school."@@ Her eyebrows lift slightly. @@.girl;"Ah. So this is a new development."@@ @@.player;"Not really new,"@@ you say quickly, leaning against the doorframe. @@.player;"We've been talking ever since we became partners in homeroom. She's actually... really easy to hang out with? Like, she's super nice. And funny. You'd think someone that popular would be, I dunno, stuck-up or fake, but she's not. She's actually really down-to-earth. Like, she actually listens when you talk."@@ Your mom glances over her shoulder, smiling faintly. @@.girl;"Sounds like you think pretty highly of her."@@ You rub the back of your neck, staring at the floor. @@.player;"I mean... yeah, I do. She's just cool, you know? Not just, like, 'queen of the school' cool. More like she makes you feel comfortable. It's hard to explain."@@ Your mom's smile softens, though she doesn't say anything to tease you. Instead, she folds another towel, stacking it neatly on top of the others. @@.girl;"Well. That sounds like a good addition to your shopping trip."@@ @@.player;"Yeah."@@ You shift your weight, trying to keep your voice level. @@.player;"She knows a lot about clothes too, so... she'll probably save me from whatever nightmare Samantha was gonna put me in."@@ Your mom chuckles. @@.girl;"Now that, I believe."@@ @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you protest halfheartedly. @@.girl;"She's the cheer captain, you said?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah."@@ You can't help but perk up a little. @@.player;"Everyone knows her, obviously. But she's not just all image. She's been under a ''ton'' of pressure this year—like, way more than people realize—but she still makes time for people. Like, she'll stay after school just to check in on someone. I don't know how she does it."@@ Your mom glances at you again, but she doesn't say what you can tell she's thinking. Instead, she reaches for her phone on the little shelf by the detergent. @@.player;"What are you doing?"@@ @@.girl;"Sending you some money,"@@ she says simply. @@.player;"You don't have to—"@@ @@.girl;"$name."@@ That's her don't-even-bother tone, and you shut up. @@.girl;"You're growing, you're figuring out what feels good for you, and you deserve clothes that actually fit that."@@ <<else>>\ You lean against the doorframe, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. @@.player;"Samantha,"@@ you say first, because that's the safe, obvious answer. @@.player;"And, uh... Jessica."@@ Your mom freezes mid-fold. Not dramatically—just enough that you notice. @@.girl;"Jessica?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Jessica Sanders. She's the cheer captain. You know, from school."@@ @@.girl;"I don't think I've heard that name before,"@@ your mom says, her brows knitting. @@.player;"That's because I've... probably never mentioned her,"@@ you admit, scratching the back of your neck. @@.player;"She's usually being swarmed by, like, half the school."@@ Your mom's face softens, curious now instead of questioning. @@.girl;"So... she's popular."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, she's one of those people everyone knows,"@@ you say with a shrug. @@.player;"But she's easy to be around, not over-the-top or anything."@@ Your mom gives you a small smile. @@.girl;"Sounds like a good addition to the trip."@@ @@.player;"Definitely,"@@ you say, leaning against the doorframe. @@.player;"Figured it'd be fun to have her along. She knows clothes way better than I do, that's for sure."@@ Your mom chuckles. @@.girl;"Sweetie, I love you, but that's not a high bar."@@ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, pretending to be offended. @@.girl;"Well, you're going to have quite the crew,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Samantha and... Jessica the cheer captain. I'm trying to picture how that dynamic's going to go."@@ @@.player;"Probably loud,"@@ you respond. @@.player;"But manageable."@@ @@.girl;"Mhm. Loud I can believe."@@ She picks up her phone from the little shelf by the detergent. @@.player;"What are you doing?"@@ @@.girl;"Sending you some money,"@@ she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. @@.player;"You don't have to—"@@ @@.girl;"$name."@@ Her voice has that tone that implies you shouldn't bother arguing. @@.girl;"You're growing up. You deserve to have clothes that make you feel good in them."@@ <</if>>\ A second later, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out and check the screen: $100 transferred. She even put a note in the memo: //For cool outfits and snacks. Don't blow it all on something weird.// @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, grinning despite yourself. She shrugs, tossing another folded towel onto the stack. @@.girl;"You can pay me back by not leaving your dirty clothes on the floor for me to pick up."@@ @@.player;"No promises."@@ She points a finger at you in warning, but she's smiling. You start to back out of the room, still glancing at your phone like the number might vanish. $money USD. That's the most you've had in your account in a while. Before you're fully in the hallway again, you pause. @@.player;"Hey, Mom?"@@ @@.girl;"Hmm?"@@ @@.player;"Thanks. Really."@@ She doesn't look up from the laundry this time, just nods and says, @@.girl;"Have fun. Be safe. And tell Samantha I said hi."@@ @@.player;"Will do."@@ @@.girl;"And Jessica, too. Even if she has no idea who I am."@@ You laugh under your breath, already backing toward the hallway. @@.player;"Yeah, sure."@@ @@.girl;"Have fun,"@@ she calls after as you leave, and you can still feel the little bit of warmth in her voice as you head upstairs. <<button "Where's Sam and Jess?" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 3">>\<</button>>

Samantha plunks her tray down with a loud //clatter// that makes the flimsy table tremble, and you swear the smell of whatever she got could clear sinuses from ten feet away. It's fried. It's bright red. It's steaming like a warning sign. @@.samantha;"Behold,"@@ she says, gesturing to the pile of food like a magician unveiling their greatest trick. @@.samantha;"The pinnacle of human achievement: food that's 80% grease, 20% pure malice."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"What even //is// that?"@@ She tabs a fork into one of the spiky fried things, sauce dripping off the edge. @@.samantha;"I don't know, but it's spicy enough to kill me, and I respect that."@@ Jessica slides in next to Samantha, setting down her own tray with much more grace. Where Samantha's plate looks like it might start a bar fight, Jessica's is a neatly arranged bowl—greens, grilled chicken, and dressing on the side. Even her water bottle looks like it's judging you for your choices. @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, peering at it. @@.player;"That's... surprisingly normal."@@ Jessica shrugs, picking up her fork. @@.jessica;"It's all about balance. If I eat like this here, I can justify ice cream later."@@ @@.samantha;"You do realize this is a mall food court, right?"@@ Samantha says, staring at her bowl like it just insulted her family. @@.samantha;"You don't come here for balance. You come here to gamble with your arteries."@@ @@.jessica;"Some of us don't want to feel like death after lunch,"@@ Jessica says lightly. @@.jessica;"Not everything has to be a dare, Sam."@@ Samantha takes a huge bite of whatever unholy fried object she's eating and talks through the chew. @@.samantha;"Cowardice. That's what this is."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"She's going to combust halfway through that meal and try to blame us."@@ @@.samantha;"Worth it,"@@ Samantha says without hesitation. The three of you eat in comfortable chaos for a bit—Jessica stealing some of your food without asking (and giving you a very unapologetic smile when you notice), Samantha making exaggerated faces every time the spiece hits her tongue, and you alternating between your own food and watching them argue. The fighting dies down eventually, replaced by that kind of comfortable quiet that only comes after a long day of doing a little too much. Samantha leans back in her chair, tossing her fork onto the tray like she's conquered the food, while Jessica picks at the last of her salad. Then, softly, Jessica says, @@.jessica;"I really appreciated today."@@ You glance up, a little surprised at the sudden sincerity at her tone. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah."@@ She nods. @@.jessica;"I know it wasn't about me, but... I don't know. It was nice."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"What? You're not even the one we dragged around shopping. Shouldn't $name be the one giving emotional speeches?"@@ Jessica smirks at that but doesn't fire back right away. She takes a breath, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. @@.jessica;"I guess I just... got to be myself today. Like, //really// myself. I wasn't worried if people were staring or if I said the 'right' thing. i just... hung out. Looked at ugly clothes. Laughed too much."@@ You exchange a glance with Samantha, and she's watching Jessica with a rare kind of seriousness. Jessica shrugs like she hasn't just said something heavy. @@.jessica;"I don't get to do that a lot, you know? Everyone always expects me to be so much. Friendly. Popular. Whatever. Today was just fun."@@ You and Samantha stay quiet for a beat, the clatter of the food court filling the space instead. Jessica doesn't usually open up like this. She's the one who keeps it together, who knows how to say the right thing at the right time, who makes everything look effortless. But now, at this moment, she's just... Jessica. Samantha leans forward, resting her chin in her hand. @@.samantha;"Well,"@@ she says, surprisingly gentle, @@.samantha;"you don't have to do all that here. Not with us."@@ @@.jessica;"I just appreciate it,"@@ Jessica says, her blue eyes bright but calm. @@.jessica;"For letting me just be me today."@@ You shift in your seat as the words hang there. <<button "It's alright. I love you for you" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 21">>\<<set $d18foodcourtjessica to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourtjessica" "It's alright. I love you for you" "rel">><</button>> <<button "You don't need to thank us. We like you for you" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 21">>\<<set $d18foodcourtjessica to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourtjessica" "You don't need to thank us. We like you for you" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Well, you were still kind of perfect today" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 21">>\<<set $d18foodcourtjessica to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_foodcourtjessica" "Well, you were still kind of perfect today" "rel">><</button>>

<<if $d18foodcourtjessica is 0>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 14 and $acceptance > 19>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"It's alright,"@@ you say, trying to play it casual even though you feel the words coming out of your mouth like you've crossed some invisible line. @@.player;"I love you for you."@@ It's supposed to sound offhand. A throwaway. Something people say when they're being reassuring. It doesn't. Jessica freezes mid-sip of her water bottle. @@.jessica;"Wait,"@@ she says, tilting her head with an incredulous little half-smile. @@.jessica;"You... love me for me?"@@ You lift your hands in mock defense. @@.player;"Not like that. I mean, like—'love' as in, you know, love. Not, like, love-love. Just—ugh, you know what I mean."@@ Jessica sets her cup down, but her eyes don't leave yours. There's a small laugh in her throat, but it's softer than usual. @@.jessica;"Do I?"@@ she teases. You rub the back of your neck, heat creeping up your face. @@.player;"I mean it in the way you say you love pizza or... sleep. Like, casual love. Friendly love. Don't get weird about it."@@ She raises one perfect eyebrow. @@.jessica;"Mhm. Sure. Casual love. Totally normal."@@ @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"See? You get it."@@ She tilts her head and leans forward onto the table, resting her chin on her hand. @@.jessica;"But still. You don't usually just say that kind of thing, you know? Like... 'love you for you.' It's kind of..."@@ She trails off, lips tugging into a faint smile. @@.jessica;"It's kind of nice to hear."@@ You blink, unsure how to respond for a second. @@.player;"Well, good,"@@ you say finally, deciding to lean into it. @@.player;"Because I meant it. You don't need to perform or whatever. Not for me. You're just... Jessica. And that's more than enough."@@ Her smile deepens. @@.jessica;"You're kind of full of surprises, you know that?"@@ You smirk, acting nonchalant though your heart's hammering. @@.player;"I try."@@ From across the table, Samantha's eyes dart between the two of you, wide and unblinking, like she's watching a live soap opera unfold. After a few seconds, she finally breaks the silence. @@.samantha;"What the hell just happened?"@@ You glance at her innocently. @@.player;"We were talking."@@ Jessica laughs, a little too pleased with herself. @@.jessica;"Don't worry about it, Sam. We're just bonding."@@ @@.samantha;"Bonding,"@@ Samantha repeats flatly, rolling her eyes. @@.samantha;"That's one word for it."@@ As your eyes meet Jessica's, you can tell you're both thinking the same thing. The conversation wasn't as casual as you both pretended it was. <<else>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"It's alright,"@@ you say, aiming for casual reassurance as you lean back in your chair. @@.player;"I love you for you."@@ Jessica blinks. Her expression flickers—surprised, maybe a little caught off guard—before she lets out a small laugh that doesn't quite reach her eyes. @@.jessica;"Wow,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"That's a lot."@@ You rub the back of your neck, suddenly hyperaware of how warm your face feels. @@.player;"I didn't mean it, like—love love,"@@ you clarify quickly, flailing your hand a bit like that'll erase the weight of your words. @@.player;"I meant, you know... just as a friend."@@ She studies you for a moment—longer than feels comfortable—then gives a little nod, her smile polite but careful. @@.jessica;"Yeah. I get it,"@@ she says softly, then adds, almost like she wants to make sure you really hear her: @@.jessica;"And you're a really good friend, $name. I don't want you to forget that."@@ Something in the way she emphasizes "friend" lands like a soft thud in your chest. You laugh, but it comes out thinner than you intended. @@.player;"Yeah. Right. Friends. That's... exactly what I meant."@@ @@.jessica;"Good. Because I appreciate it a lot. You're sweet, it's just that I..."@@ she pauses, searching for words that don't quite show up, then settles on, @@.jessica;"You know. I've got a lot on my plate. But it means a lot you said that."@@ You nod quickly, not sure what else to do. @@.player;"Yeah. No worries. I didn't mean anything by it."@@ There's a stretch of silence before Samantha leans across the table, whispering with zero tact, @@.samantha;"That was brutal, man."@@ <</if>>\ <<elseif $d18foodcourtjessica is 1>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You don't even have to think about it. @@.player;"You don't need to thank us,"@@ you say, leaning forward slightly. @@.player;"We like you for you. That's... kind of the point, isn't it?"@@ Jessica blinks, caught off guard, but a soft smile forms on her face. @@.jessica;"That's really nice to hear,"@@ she says, her voice quiet but steady. @@.jessica;"I don't know if I'll ever really be able to believe that, but that still means a lot."@@ Samantha, who's been uncharacteristically quiet for the last thirty seconds, immediately cuts in, though her tone lacks its usual bite. @@.samantha;"Okay, fine,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"I'll admit it. I liked hanging out with you today too, Jess."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow in amusement. @@.jessica;"Oh? That almost sounded like a compliment."@@ @@.samantha;"Don't get used to it,"@@ Samantha fires back instantly. @@.samantha;"But seriously. I kind of... thought wrong about you. Like, I figured you'd be a little shallow. Not in a mean way! I just mean—popular girl, perfectly styled hair, never a single thing out of place? You gave off 'too good for mall chaos' vibes."@@ @@.jessica;"And yet here I am,"@@ Jessica says with a smirk. @@.jessica;"Eating in a mall food court with you two and somehow surviving."@@ Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"Yeah, well, turns out you can hang. Plus, you roasted me back a couple times today. I respect that. Most people just get steamrolled."@@ You nod in agreement. @@.player;"She really did. You got Samantha to shut up for a whole five seconds once. That's an achievement."@@ @@.samantha;"Bold words from the kid who nearly cried after scraping his ankle when we were kids,"@@ Samantha shoots back, smirking. @@.player;"Oh, come on. That was ages ago,"@@ you protest. @@.player;"And I did //not// nearly cry."@@ Jessica laughs again, and for a moment it feels like you're all just kids with no stakes. When life was just simple. <<elseif $d18foodcourtjessica is 2>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You grin, trying to lighten the mood. @@.player;"Well, you were still kind of perfect today."@@ Jessica's expression changes almost instantly. Her smile falters, the warmth in her eyes cooling to something distant. @@.jessica;"Oh,"@@ she says after a moment, quiet and clipped. @@.jessica;"Right. Perfect."@@ The words lands like a brick. You want to take it back immediately, to explain that you didn't mean it like that, but she's already shifted her focus back to her bowl. Even though there's nothing left, she scrapes at the sides halfheartedly, her shoulders hunching just slightly. The worst part is she doesn't correct you. Doesn't joke it off. She just goes quiet, retreating into herself like the moment's been ruined. Samantha raises an eyebrow at you, silently asking what the hell you just did. The rest of the mall stretches on, heavier than before, the easy flow of conversation gone. <</if>>\ <<button "All done!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 22">><</button>>

Samantha wipes her hands on a napkin and leans back with a satisfied sigh. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ she declares. @@.samantha;"The next mission: ice cream."@@ You blink at her. @@.player;"Ice cream? We literally just ate. Like, just now."@@ She stares at you like you've just spoken heresy. @@.samantha;"And? Dessert is a separate stomach event. It's science, $name. Look it up."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Science?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yes. Science. You think humanity just invented dessert for fun? No. We evolved to need it."@@ She's already gathering her trash like the conversation is over. @@.samantha;"We need balance. Salt, grease, //then// sugar. That's how you achieve true harmony."@@ You glance at Jessica for backup, but she only laughs, dabbing her fingers with a napkin. @@.jessica;"Honestly? She's not wrong,"@@ Jessica says with a little shrug. @@.jessica;"I could go for some ice cream. Sounds nice."@@ @@.samantha;"See? Jess gets it."@@ Samantha grins. @@.samantha;"And you, my dear $name, are outnumbered."@@ You sigh. @@.player;"Fine. But if I pass out from sugar overload, that's on you two."@@ @@.samantha;"Great,"@@ Samantha says brightly, tossing her trash into a nearby bin. @@.samantha;"I'll buy you a little cone. One scoop. Perfect."@@ You laugh as you stand, grabbing all the bags. @@.player;"You're unbelievable."@@ @@.samantha;"And yet, you follow me anyway,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"It's called charisma."@@ The three of you weave through the thinning food court crowd and make your way to the ice cream parlor. Samantha walks a few steps ahead, humming some unrecognizable tune under her breath, while Jessica falls into step beside you. The smell of waffle cones and vanilla hits first—sweet and warm, with that distinct promise of a sugar rush. Samantha practically presses her face to the glass display. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she says with reverence. @@.samantha;"Look at them. Look at all those flavors. They're beautiful."@@ @@.player;"You're acting like it's art,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"It //is// art,"@@ she shoots back, not even glancing at you. @@.samantha;"Edible art. Art you can smother in sprinkles."@@ Jessica lingers near the menu on the wall. @@.jessica;"Okay, but do we go classic? Or do we commit to one of these crazy flavors?"@@ @@.samantha;"Do I dare mix the cookie dough with the cotton candy again?"@@ Samantha mutters to herself. @@.player;"Didn't that give you a stomachache last time?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ she says gravely. @@.samantha;"And I learned nothing."@@ You step forward as the server behind the counter glances up with a smile, ready to take your order. <<if $d3icecream is 0>>\ You glance over the rows of colorful options, each more swirled and sprinkled and unique than the last... and go for vanilla. Classic. Safe. Uncontroversial. The moment the scoop hits the cone, Samantha lets out a slow, theatrical exhale. @@.samantha;"Vanilla?"@@ she says, eyebrows climbing. @@.samantha;"Really, $name? In a place that sells 'Cereal Killer Crunch' and 'Unicorn Tears Surprise,' you picked //vanilla//?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It's good."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, so is water,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"And that has no personality."@@ @@.jessica;"I think vanilla and water are underrated,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"IT's kind of comforting. Like... dependable."@@ @@.samantha;"Do not justify this flavor cowardice, Jess,"@@ Samantha says. @@.jessica;"I'm just saying that sometimes simple is nice,"@@ Jessica continues, ignoring her. @@.samantha;"Simple is what you settle for when you give up on life,"@@ Samantha replies. @@.player;"Well, this simple vanilla is going to taste amazing, so I win,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"Sure, champ,"@@ Samantha mutters. @@.samantha;"Live your boring life."@@ <<elseif $d3icecream is 1>>\ You don't hesitate. One scoop of rich chocolate, no frills. Reliable and an easy win. Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Chocolate, huh?"@@ she says, giving a small nod. @@.samantha;"Can't go wrong with chocolate."@@ @@.player;"Did you just... approve of my choice?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"No, of course not,"@@ she responds, clearly holding back a smirk. @@.samantha;"Just very... childish."@@ You look at her flatly. @@.player;"It's chocolate. Everyone likes it."@@ @@.jessica;"I'm with $name,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Chocolate's always a good choice. It's like... timeless."@@ @@.samantha;"And that's the problem,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"It's too safe. It's 'timeless' because there's nothing to it."@@ @@.player;"I'm the one with the ice cream, you're the one with opinions,"@@ you respond. @@.samantha;"Hey, I never said it was a bad pick,"@@ Samantha says. <<elseif $d3icecream is 2>>\ You lean forward and point decisively. @@.player;"Cookies and cream, please."@@ The worker nods and scoops you a generous swirl, speckled with crumbled cookie bits. Just the right amount of crunch and cream. Samantha watches it and hums approvingly. @@.samantha;"Ah, yes. The indecisive person's favorite. 'I want cookies, but also... milk? but cold. But frozen. But not //too// adult.'"@@ Jessica laughs softly. @@.jessica;"Honestly, I like cookies and cream. You can't go wrong with cookies in ice cream. It's like getting a bonus snack."@@ @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Finally, some respect."@@ @@.samantha;"It's just //too// good,"@@ Samantha says, like she's making some great point. @@.samantha;"Everyone likes it. That's what makes me suspicious."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Are you seriously gatekeeping ice cream right now?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ she says solemnly. @@.samantha;"I'm morally obligated."@@ <<elseif $d3icecream is 3>>\ You point to the strawberry. It's pale pink with little bits of fruit tucked inside. Sure enough, Samantha glances over and raises both brows. @@.samantha;"Strawberry?"@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you say, taking a bite. @@.player;"It's good."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, I'm not judging,"@@ she says, sliding her hands into her pockets. @@.samantha;"It's just kinda sweet. Unexpected."@@ @@.player;"Am I not sweet?"@@ you ask. She laughs under her breath. @@.samantha;"Let's not get into that."@@ @@.jessica;"I think $name's sweet,"@@ Jessica chimes in. @@.samantha;"Then you don't know him well enough,"@@ Samantha murmurs. <</if>>\ Samantha stares down the row of ice cream tubs with her arms crossed. Her weight is shifted to one hip and her lips are pursed. @@.samantha;"No,"@@ she mutters at mint chip. @@.samantha;"Too toothpaste. No,"@@ again at rainbow sherbet. @@.samantha;"Not eating something that looks like it was sneezed out by a unicorn."@@ @@.player;"Want some privacy?"@@ you ask, deadpan. She shoots you a glare, then points at a tub toward the end. @@.samantha;"That one, please. Triple Fudge Frenzy. It speaks to me."@@ The worker gives her a nod and starts scooping. Jessica steps up next, casual as anything. @@.jessica;"Neapolitan,"@@ she says. Samantha turns on her like she just confessed to a crime. @@.samantha;"Neapolitan? Really? What are you, an ice cream sampler plate in human form? That's three flavors."@@ Jessica arches an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"And Triple Fudge Frenzy isn't also three flavors? Lemme think. Fudge, fudge, and... oh, more fudge?"@@ Samantha opens her mouth like she has a retort, then shuts it down with a glare. @@.samantha;"...I don't like your tone."@@ @@.jessica;"That's what I thought."@@ The three of you move toward the checkout counter. When you make your way there, Samantha turns and stares wordlessly at the pile of shopping bags looped around your arm and cradled against your hip. Her gaze travels from the patterned handles to the glossy branded logos. Her eyes narrows. Her expression goes blank. You don't even need to say it. @@.player;"I—"@@ you start. She cuts you off with a heavy sigh, like she's just aged five years. @@.samantha;"$name. My sweet, dumb shopping casualty. Do you have //any// money left?"@@ @@.player;"I have emotional gratitude,"@@ you say, shrugging sheepishly. @@.samantha;"That won't pay for dairy, buddy."@@ Jessica leans over to peek at your haul. @@.jessica;"Honestly? I'm impressed. You did quite a bit of damage in this mall."@@ @@.player;"Yeah..."@@ you say, voice trailing off. Still grumbling, Samantha pulls her phone out and taps it against the reader before you can argue. A chime sounds, confirming the payment. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur, already guilty. She hands you your cone like she's bestowing you with a cursed heirloom. @@.samantha;"You owe me."@@ @@.player;"Fair,"@@ you reply, nodding solemnly. @@.samantha;"No, like—you seriously //owe// me,"@@ she continues, pointing a dramatic finger at your face. @@.samantha;"Next time we pass a store that sells squishmallows, you're buying me the dumbest, biggest, ugliest one they have. I want it to ruin my bed aesthetic."@@ @@.player;"You know what?"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"Deal."@@ With cones in hand, the three of you shuffle toward a nearby bench that's somehow both sticky and cold at the same time. You manage to arrange your bags into a neat little fortress on the floor before sitting. Jessica perches next to you, daintily eating her ice cream, while Samantha's already halfway through her triple-fudge monstrosity. @@.samantha;"So,"@@ Samantha says, licking a glob of chocolate off her thumb. @@.samantha;"Now that $name's officially bankrupted himself and expanded his wardrobe... what do we even talk about?"@@ <<button "If you could swap bodies with anyone for a day, who would it be?" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 23">>\<<set $d18samconvo to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samconvo" "If you could swap bodies with anyone for a day, who would it be?" "story">><</button>> <<button "If you could disappear for a week and go anywhere, where would you go?" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 23">>\<<set $d18samconvo to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samconvo" "If you could disappear for a week and go anywhere, where would you go?" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18samconvo is true>>\ You lean back against the bench, letting the ice cream melt lazily on your tongue, and glance between Samantha and Jessica. @@.player;"So, if you could swap bodies with anyone for a day, who would it be?"@@ you ask, breaking the comfortable silence. Samantha doesn't even hesitate. @@.samantha;"Luke."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Luke? Like... our Luke? All-brawn-no-brain Luke?"@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly,"@@ Samantha states. @@.samantha;"Surely there's gotta be //something// in that brain of his, and I want to know what it is. Like, does he think in full sentences? Or is it just vibes and offensive linemen? He's basically a human Labrador with a football scholarship. Can you blame me for being curious?"@@ You snort. @@.player;"You could just ask him what's going on in his head, you know."@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, I //have// asked,"@@ she says flatly. @@.samantha;"His answer was, and I quote, 'Mostly just chicken nuggets and game strategy.'"@@ Jessica giggles behind her cone, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"Honestly? That tracks."@@ Samantha leans back dramatically, holding her triple fudge cone like it's a microphone. @@.samantha;"But imagine living in Luke's body for a day. No stress. No overthinking. You get to run fast, eat whatever you want, and everyone cheers when you throw a ball. It sounds like a vacation."@@ @@.player;"Until you have to play in an actual game,"@@ you point out. @@.samantha;"Yeah, but in his body, I'd actually be good at it,"@@ she counters. @@.samantha;"Do you know what I'd do with that kind of power? I'd get //so// smug. And tall. Oh my God, I'd be tall for a day."@@ @@.player;"That's your big dream?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Look, don't knock it 'til you've spent your whole life looking up at people in crowded hallways,"@@ she says. You laugh, shaking your head, then turn to Jessica. @@.player;"What about you?"@@ Jessica pauses. . @@.jessica;"Jordan,"@@ she says finally. You and Samantha share a glance. @@.player;"Jordan?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"As in, Jordan Jordan?"@@ Samantha adds. @@.samantha;"Icy Quarterback Jordan? The Jordan that doesn't talk to anyone?"@@ Jessica nods, unbothered by her tone. @@.jessica;"That's the one."@@ @@.player;"Why him?"@@ you ask. Jessica shrugs, but there's a hint of thoughtfulness in the motion. @@.jessica;"He's... different. Closed off, yeah, but there's more there. You can just tell. He doesn't open up to anyone. Even when he's surrounded by people, it feels like he's somewhere else."@@ @@.samantha;"So you want to swap bodies with him just to... solve the mystery?"@@ Samantha asks. @@.jessica;"Kind of."@@ Jessica smiles faintly. @@.jessica;"I've been trying to figure him out for months, and I haven't been able to. He's like this puzzle nobody else realizes is there. If I could just be him for a day, maybe I'd get it. Maybe I'd finally understand what's going on in his head."@@ @@.samantha;"Or maybe it's just chicken nuggets and game strategy in there too,"@@ Samantha says with a smirk. @@.jessica;"I doubt it,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"But at least I'd know."@@ @@.player;"That's actually kind of interesting,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"You can't ever //actually// know what someone else is thinking."@@ @@.samantha;"Man, you guys are making me sound shallow,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"You're out here talking about deep emotional connections and I'm over here like, 'Give me Luke's tall body and let me dunk on people.'"@@ @@.player;"Wrong sport,"@@ you state. @@.player;"Also, you wouldn't be able to."@@ She glares at you. @@.samantha;"I'd figure it out."@@ <<else>>\ You lean back against the bench, letting the ice cream melt lazily on your tongue, and glance between Samantha and Jessica. @@.player;"If you could disappear for a week and go anywhere, where would you go?"@@ you ask, glancing between them. @@.player;"No explanations, no responsibilities, no one asking where you were."@@ Samantha leans back immediately, squinting at you over her cone. @@.samantha;"Disappear? Like... no contact, no talking to anyone? For a //whole// week?"@@ @@.player;"That's the idea,"@@ you state. She shakes her head. @@.samantha;"Hard pass. I'd last, like, a day. Maybe two if I had internet. I like people too much to be alone that long. If I disappear for a week, I want to disappear into a festival. Or a party. Or—oh!—a convention with free snacks. Not some wilderness trip."@@ You can't help but laugh. @@.player;"You'd disappear into... crowds?"@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"It was the fun kind of disappearing, $name. Not the existential one."@@ @@.jessica;"That's not really disappearing,"@@ Jessica says. @@.samantha;"Sure it is,"@@ Samantha counters. @@.samantha;"If I blend in with a thousand other people, poof—I'm gone. Unfindable. Like Where's Waldo, but sarcastic."@@ You snort, shaking your head. @@.player;"That's one way to look at it."@@ Jessica, meanwhile, is quiet. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer. @@.jessica;"I'd do it. Disappear for a week, I mean."@@ You tilt your head. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ She nods. @@.jessica;"I think about it sometimes, actually. I'd rent some little cabin in the mountains or by a lake. Just somewhere green, where I can wake up and only hear wind and water. I'd turn my phone off. No texts, no notifications, no people. Just... me. Books, music, maybe a sketchpad. No expectations. No schedule. No... image to keep up."@@ Her words hang there for a moment, heavy in their honesty. @@.player;"So why don't you?"@@ you ask, curious. She gives a small, almost sad laugh. @@.jessica;"Because I //can't//, $name. You know how it is. People would notice. My parents, school, the squad, everyone. And when I came back, I'd have to explain it, or deal with whatever they decided to assume. It wouldn't really be disappearing. It'd just be creating a new problem I'd have to fix later. So I don't."@@ @@.samantha;"You actually planned that all out, huh?"@@ Samantha says, a frown on her face. Jessica shrugs. @@.jessica;"I've thought about it a lot."@@ @@.player;"Sounds like you really need that week,"@@ you state. @@.jessica;"Maybe I do,"@@ she admits. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 24">><</button>>

The mall doors slide open with a hiss, and you step out into a different world than the one you arrived in. The sky's gone black, the streetlights are on, and the breeze that hits you is cooler now. The parking lot's half-empty, the buzz of cars replaced by the sounds of nature. Samantha stops just outside the entrance, blinking like she's only just realized what time it is. @@.samantha;"Dude,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"It's night. Like, actual night. When the hell did that happen?"@@ You glance at the sky. @@.player;"Uh... somewhere between the third and fourth store we visited?"@@ She pulls out her phone, checks the time, and groans. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, $name. We were in there for //hours//. No wonder my legs feel like I ran a marathon. How are we alive?"@@ @@.jessica;"You're acting like you had to hike out of there. We were just shopping."@@ @@.samantha;"'Just shopping'? I swear I walked the equivalent of a half-marathon today. And now I have to—"@@ Samantha freezes mid-rant, realization dawning, and looks at Jessica. @@.samantha;"Wait. Crap. I have to walk home in the dark."@@ Jessica blinks at her like she's grown a second head. Then she dangles the car keys in front of Samantha's face, the metal glinting under the light. @@.jessica;"Forgot already?"@@ There's a beat of silence. Then Samantha gasps, grabbing Jessica by the shoulders with dramatic energy. @@.samantha;"Oh my God. Hallelujah. I am saved."@@ She bows her head, muttering, @@.samantha;"Thank you, mysterious forces of the universe, for blessing me with a ride and sparing me from dying of exhaustion on the side of the road."@@ Jessica laughs, shaking her off. @@.jessica;"You're welcome, but don't make it weird."@@ @@.player;"It's too late for that,"@@ you say, adjusting the loop of shopping bags digging into your wrist. Samantha glares half-heartedly at you, then trudges alongside as the three of you cross the lot. Jessica's car waits in the back row, tucked beneath one of the lampposts. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ Jessica says, popping the trunk open with a quick click. @@.jessica;"Bag Tetris time. Don't crumple anything."@@ You load your spoils into the trunk, the bags rustling as they settle into a lumpy pile. Jessica carefully rearranges them after you toss your bags in so nothing will slide during the drive. @@.samantha;"Of course you're reorganizing,"@@ Samantha mutters. Jessica shuts the trunk with a firm thud. @@.jessica;"$name will thank me when all his stuff isn't crushed."@@ You climb into the backseat while Samantha claims shotgun. Jessica slides into the driver's seat and starts the engine. @@.jessica;"Seatbelts,"@@ she says automatically, glancing at both of you before backing out of the space. @@.samantha;"Wow,"@@ Samantha mutters, clicking hers into place. @@.samantha;"Mom mode activated."@@ Jessica rolls her eyes, but there's a tiny smirk on her lips as she steers the car toward the exit. The mall grows smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror as the car accelerates. You're finally out of the mall and on the road. <<button "Driving home" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 25">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/home-exteriornd.png">\ Jessica's car rolls to a quiet stop at the curb in front of your house. The engine hums for a moment before she cuts it, and the car settles into silence. The three of you just sit there for a moment, reluctant to move. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ Samantha finally says, stretching dramatically as she unbuckles. @@.samantha;"Time to haul Mount Capitalism to the porch."@@ @@.player;"Stop calling it that,"@@ you mutter. @@.samantha;"Tell that to your receipts,"@@ she fires back, sliding out of the passenger seat with a grunt. Jessica steps out more gracefully, clicking the trunk open. @@.jessica;"We'll just get everything to the porch. You can handle the rest, $name,"@@ she says, circling to grab some bags herself. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, a little sheepishly as you take the heavier ones. <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>> @@.jessica;"Of course,"@@ she replies. <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"No problem,"@@ she replies. <</if>>\ Together, the three of you make your way up to the front porch. Samantha keeps making sarcastic grunts about the @@.samantha;"weight of retail excess"@@ while Jessica just shakes her head with a quiet smile. You've barely set the first pile down on the welcome mat when the front door creaks open. @@.girl;"$name? Is that you?"@@ Your mom steps out, sweater draped over her shoulders, her expression softening immediately when she sees the three of you standing there with arms full of bags. @@.girl;"Oh my goodness—"@@ she pauses, taking in Jessica with a little spark of recognition, @@.girl;"you must be Jessica."@@ Jessica straightens up a bit. @@.jessica;"Yes, ma'am,"@@ she says, voice polite but warm. Your mom's smile widens. @@.girl;"I've heard a lot about you. Thank you for keeping my $name company. You too, Samantha. Really, you're both such good friends for taking him shopping."@@ Samantha waves a hand dismissively. @@.samantha;"Please, don't thank me. I do it out of obligation,"@@ she deadpans. Jessica elbows her lightly. @@.jessica;"Ignore her. It really was fun."@@ @@.girl;"Well, I appreciate you both either way,"@@ your mom says, amused. She steps aside, pushing the door open further. @@.girl;"You should come in for a bit. You can rest your feet, maybe grab a snack. I can make some tea."@@ Jessica shakes her head. @@.jessica;"Thank you, but it's getting late. I still need to drop Sam off before I head home."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ Samantha agrees. @@.samantha;"As much as I'd love tea, if I don't get horizontal on a mattress soon, I might actually die."@@ Your mom chuckles softly. @@.girl;"Well, I won't keep you then. Drive safe, alright? And thank you again. It means a lot that you're both looking out for him."@@ Jessica offers her a small, genuine smile. @@.jessica;"Of course. Thank you for having us."@@ @@.samantha;"We'll take good care of him, don't worry,"@@ Samantha says, giving a little salute. @@.girl;"See that you do,"@@ your mom says. With that, Jessica and Samantha turn to head back to the car. Samantha stretches her arms overhead with a groan as they walk, and Jessica tosses you a small wave before sliding into the driver's seat. You watch the car pull away, the taillights glowing red before disappearing down the street. Your mom exhales softly beside you, glancing at the pile of bags stacked on the porch. @@.girl;"Well,"@@ she says, clapping her hands once with a faint smile, @@.girl;"let's get all that inside now."@@ You step through the door, the bags rustling around you as the porch light clicks off behind you and the night returns to its quiet hum. <<button "Back home" "Day 18 - 7">><</button>>

<<set $shoes to 0>>\ You're halfway through tying your shoes when the doorbell rings. You grab your phone and jog down the stairs, opening the door to find Samantha standing there, sleeves shoved up, a little windblown from her walk, and a half-empty water bottle dangling from one hand. Her hair's crammed under a beanie like usual, and she's got that wide grin that usually means trouble. @@.samantha;"Behold!"@@ she announces, arms thrown wide like a magician. @@.samantha;"Your fairy godmother has arrived. I bring fashion advice, emotional damage, and possibly foot blisters."@@ You grin. @@.player;"You walked?"@@ @@.samantha;"Of course I walked. What am I, a coward?"@@ she says, pushing past you into the entryway. @@.samantha;"I am committed to the cause and to cardio. Also, I don't have a car."@@ You laugh, shutting the door. She glances around like she's inspecting the place for changes, then squints at you. @@.samantha;"Wait,"@@ she says, suspicious. @@.samantha;"We're walking to the mall too, right?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, of course. That's how we always go."@@ She groans so dramatically you're surprised she doesn't fall over. @@.samantha;"Bro. I just walked here. That's already twenty minutes. I was not emotionally prepared for part two of this pilgrimage."@@ @@.player;"You'll live,"@@ you say. She takes a long swig from her water bottle, then caps it with a snap. @@.samantha;"Fine. But if I die halfway, you have to drag me the rest of the way and tell my cat I loved her."@@ @@.player;"You're very dramatic for someone who claims to be strong."@@ @@.samantha;"Pain builds character,"@@ she says breezily. @@.samantha;"Now, come on. Let's go buy you an identity."@@ You're about to reply when the low purr of an engine makes you glance outside. A sleek, pearly-white car pulls up to the curb in front of your house, the kind that looks like it gets hand-waxed every Sunday. Samantha follows your gaze, frowning. @@.samantha;"Uh... who the hell is that?"@@ The car door opens, and out steps Jessica. She's dressed effortlessly nice—pink jacket layered over a white top, hair perfectly straightened and tied back with a bow. You blink, because for a split second it's like she doesn't belong on your front step—Jessica Sanders, the queen bee of Pacific Crest High, standing in front of your door like this is completely normal. She spots you through the window and waves with a bright smile, like she hasn't just caused your brain to hit a full stop. It's only then that you realize the front door is still closed. You fumble for the handle, pushing it open just as Samantha pokes her head through the gap. @@.samantha;"Dude, what's taking so—"@@ Her words die on her lips when she sees who's standing there. She freezes. Blinks. Then says, very flatly, @@.samantha;"Why the hell is Jessica at your house?"@@ Jessica blinks too, but she recovers quickly, offering Samantha a friendly wave. @@.jessica;"Hi,"@@ she says, like this is all completely normal. Samantha, meanwhile, swivels toward you with a slow, deliberate look. @@.samantha;"$name,"@@ she says, voice low and suspicious. @@.samantha;"Why. Is. Jessica. Here?"@@ You try your hardest not to laugh at how intense she suddenly looks. @@.player;"Surprise?"@@ @@.samantha;"Surprise?!"@@ Samantha's voice jumps a whole octave. @@.samantha;"No. No, you don't just do this. What is this? What is happening? Did I hit my head on the way over here? Am I concussed?"@@ Jessica laughs, stepping forward like she's defusing a bomb. @@.jessica;"$name invited me,"@@ she says lightly. @@.jessica;"I thought it'd be fun to help out. Hope that's okay."@@ Samantha turns back to her, incredulous. @@.samantha;"You what?"@@ Then back at you: @@.samantha;"You invited her? And you didn't tell me?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, giving her a sheepish shrug. @@.player;"I thought it might... you know. Be good to have someone else's input."@@ @@.samantha;"Input,"@@ she repeats, narrowing her eyes. @@.samantha;"Oh, sure. Nothing like ambushing me with the most popular girl at school to make this trip super chill."@@ Jessica just laughs again, seemingly unfazed. @@.jessica;"Well, hopefully, I can make it worth your while."@@ Samantha stares at her for a beat, then mutters, @@.samantha;"This is so weird,"@@ under her breath. @@.player;"Come on,"@@ you say. @@.player;"The mall's not going to shop itself."@@ Jessica gives you another bright smile, stepping back toward her car. Samantha lingers for a moment, then finally sighs and trudges after you. @@.samantha;"Unbelievable,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"You're lucky I like you."@@ You can't help but grin. Whatever today turns into, it's definitely going to be interesting. <<button "Onward!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 4">>\<</button>>

Jessica leads the way toward the car, her ponytail bouncing lightly with each step, and you and Samantha follow. The car is even more impressive up close than it looked from the doorway—sleek and pearly-white, with tinted windows that catch the afternoon sun. The chrome trim gleams, and the paint is so clean it reflects the trees lining your street. Samantha stops dead in her tracks. @@.samantha;"Uh. Excuse me,"@@ she says, pointing like the car personally offended her. @@.samantha;"What the actual hell is this?"@@ Jessica pauses, glancing back. @@.jessica;"My car?"@@ @@.samantha;"No,"@@ Samantha says, stepping closer, squinting at the vehicle as if she expects to find secret compartments. @@.samantha;"No. This is not a car. This is... some kind of spaceship. You're telling me you drive this every day like it's no big deal?"@@ Jessica laughs lightly, unlocking the car with a soft beep. @@.jessica;"It's just a newer model. My parents wanted me to have something safe. And yeah, it's nice. I know I'm lucky."@@ She doesn't sound braggy when she says it, just like she's just acknowledging how it is. Samantha stares at her for another moment, then huffs. @@.samantha;"Cool. Meanwhile, I don't even have a car. I'm still living the two-leg express life."@@ @@.jessica;"I mean, I used to be there too,"@@ Jessica replies easily, opening the driver's side door. @@.jessica;"Until last year, I was catching rides with the upperclassmen. It's definitely a privilege, and I don't take it for granted. But hey, at least walking keeps you in shape, right?"@@ Samantha narrows her eyes and, for once, she can't quite come up with a comeback. @@.samantha;"Whatever,"@@ she mutters before yanking open the back door. You climb into the passenger seat, sinking into smooth leather that feels ''way'' too nice for a high schooler's car. The cabin smells faintly of leather and vanilla, and sunlight streams in through the sunroof. Jessica slides into the driver's seat and presses the start button. The dashboard lights up, and a large touchscreen on the center wakes up, immediately syncing to her phone. Samantha leans forward between the two front seats, scanning everything like she's in a museum. @@.samantha;"Holy shit,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"This thing has Bluetooth? Like, real, working Bluetooth? And a giant screen? This is ridiculous."@@ Jessica glances at her in the rearview mirror with an easy smile. @@.jessica;"Yeah, it makes it real easy to call and play music. Honestly, I don't know what to do without it now."@@ @@.samantha;"Wow,"@@ Samantha scoffs. @@.samantha;"I'm over here riding in my mom's car that screeches in pain if you push it past fifty. You're out here with a rolling computer. I don't even know how to process this."@@ Jessica chuckles, adjusting the mirrors. @@.jessica;"Trust me, I get that this looks like a lot. It's my first real car—before this I was just borrowing this old one to practice on. They wanted me in something safer, and... well, I'm really lucky my parents could do that for me."@@ Samantha studies her for a second, then flops back into her seat. @@.samantha;"Alright. At least you're self-aware. That's points in your favor."@@ Jessica smiles, starting up the car. @@.jessica;"I'll take the points."@@ You buckle your seatbelt, trying not to grin at the exchange. Samantha crosses her arms and mutters, @@.samantha;"I walked here, and now I'm getting chauffeured in the presidential motorcade of Pacific Crest."@@ @@.jessica;"Presidential motorcade?"@@ Jessica repeats, giggling. @@.jessica;"That's a new one."@@ Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"I call it like I see it."@@ Jessica just shakes her head, still smiling as she eases the car onto the road. @@.jessica;"Well, I'll try to live up to the title."@@ You settle back into your seat as the car glides smoothly down the street. <<button "The drive" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 5">>\<</button>>

The car hums smoothly as Jessica pulls onto the main road. The seats are so comfortable you almost feel like you're sinking into them, and the big touchscreen on the dashboard glows softly. Jessica glances between you and Samantha in the rearview mirror. @@.jessica;"Do you guys mind if I put on some music?"@@ @@.samantha;"Depends,"@@ Samantha says from the back, arms crossed. @@.samantha;"Are we talking actual music, or whatever Top 100 nightmare cheer captains usually listen to?"@@ Jessica doesn't flinch. She laughs lightly, though it's that practiced, breezy laugh you've heard her use in the hallways. @@.jessica;"Guess you'll have to find out."@@ She taps the screen, and some upbeat pop starts paying. It's not bad, but not good either. Just safe. Jessica bobs her head along like it's her go-to road trip soundtrack. Samantha leans forward, eyebrows raised. @@.samantha;"Called it. Radio-friendly jams. You really are on-brand, Sanders."@@ @@.jessica;"Hey, it's catchy,"@@ Jessica says with a little shrug. @@.jessica;"Besides, it's hard to make everyone happy with music. This is a nice middle ground."@@ Samantha leans back again, clearly unimpressed but not pushing it further. You can tell she's still in that evaluating phase—deciding if Jessica is actually someone she can tolerate or if she's just going to mentally file her away as "perfect princess of Pacific Crest." You decide to step in before the silence turns awkward. @@.player;"So, Jessica, I didn't even know you drove yourself to school. I've never seen this car in the lot."@@ Jessica glances at you, smiling. @@.jessica;"I try to get in and out without drawing too much attention."@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"Oh sure. Because the cheer captain in the shiny new car is //so// inconspicuous."@@ Jessica doesn't take the bait. @@.jessica;"Fair,"@@ she says, smiling a little tighter. @@.jessica;"But I do my best."@@ There's a pause, just long enough for you to feel the tension creeping back in. Jessica keeps her eyes on the road and Samantha's staring out the window like she's already over it. You clear your throat. @@.player;"You know, it's funny. I think this is the first time you two have actually talked."@@ @@.samantha;"Yup,"@@ Samantha says without looking away from the window. Jessica laughs again, but it's the practiced one. @@.jessica;"Guess we run in pretty different circles."@@ Samantha finally turns to look at her. @@.samantha;"You could say that."@@ Another pause. And then Jessica—maybe intentionally—adds, @@.jessica;"I mean, it's kind of nice though, isn't it? Getting out of your bubble and meeting people you don't usually get to talk to."@@ Samantha tilts her head like she's gauging if Jessica actually means it or if it's just one of those lines people like her say to sound nice. @@.samantha;"Do you actually believe that? Or are you doing your, like, Miss Popular thing right now?"@@ Jessica's smile falters for the first time. She glances at Samantha in the rearview mirror, then back at the road. @@.jessica;"I mean it,"@@ she says simply. @@.jessica;"It's easy to get stuck being what people expect you to be. I like when I don't have to do that for a while."@@ That seems to catch Samantha off guard. @@.samantha;"Huh."@@ You don't say anything, but you notice Samantha's posture ease just slightly. Her arms loosen and her voice isn't as sharp when she speaks again. @@.samantha;"So, wait,"@@ Samantha says after a beat. @@.samantha;"You're telling me you //don't// enjoy the whole queen bee thing?"@@ @@.jessica;"Sometimes? Sure."@@ Jessica chuckles, but this time it's more real. @@.jessica;"But it's a ''lot''. People assume you've got it all figured out. And if you don't live up to that, it feels like you're failing at being... well, you."@@ Samantha studies her like she's trying to decide whether to believe her. Then she finally leans back. @@.samantha;"That's... actually fair."@@ @@.jessica;"Glad you think so,"@@ Jessica says, smiling softly. It's quiet for a moment after that, but it's much lighter. It's as if everyone's settling in. You glance between them, relieved. This is going better than you expected. <<button "Ask Jessica what her favorite thing to do is when she's not busy" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 6">>\<<set $d18samjessquestion to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samjessquestion" "Ask Jessica what her favorite thing to do is when she's not busy" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Ask Samantha what music she actually likes" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 6">>\<<set $d18samjessquestion to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samjessquestion" "Ask Samantha what music she actually likes" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18samjessquestion is true>>\ You glance at Jessica as the car hums along, watching the way she keeps her perfect posture even while driving, her hands lightly gripping the wheel at exactly nine and three. She looks composed as always—exactly the image people expect of her. But then you remember what she said a minute ago about being stuck in that image, and before you can overthink it, you speak up. @@.player;"So, Jessica,"@@ you say, leaning back in your seat, @@.player;"what's your favorite thing to do when you're not... you know, being cheer captain or busy with school? Like, actual free time stuff."@@ She doesn't answer right away. You can see her expression flicker—something between hesitation and calculation. She opens her mouth like she's going to give the safe answer, the response people would expect from Jessica. But then she closes it again. @@.jessica;"I, uh..."@@ She exhales through her nose, shaking her head at herself, and then glances at you with a wry smile. @@.jessica;"You guys are gonna laugh."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, now you //have// to say it,"@@ Samantha pipes up from the back, leaning forward with sudden interest. @@.samantha;"If you preface it like that, it's definitely something juicy."@@ Jessica groans, but it's more theatrical than serious. @@.jessica;"Okay. Fine. But don't tell anyone at school, seriously."@@ @@.samantha;"I can't //promise// anything,"@@ Samantha says immediately. Jessica gives her a look through the rearview mirror. @@.jessica;"Samantha."@@ @@.samantha;"Fine, fine. Scout's honor. I won't destroy your image."@@ @@.jessica;"I..."@@ Jessica begins. She exhales like she's bracing for impact. @@.jessica;"I paint Waranvil minis."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You what now?"@@ Jessica laughs—really laughs, a soft, slightly embarrassed sound. @@.jessica;"Yeah. You know, those tiny tabletop game figurines? I don't actually play the game, but I love painting them. It's calming. Kind of my escape when everything else going on is so chaotic. And I've actually gotten pretty good at it."@@ @@.samantha;"You spend your free time hunched over a table painting tiny plastic dudes with guns?"@@ Samantha asks, her mouth hanging open. @@.jessica;"Yup,"@@ Jessica says, clearly cringing at herself. @@.jessica;"I even have one of those lamps and a cutting mat."@@ There's a beat of silence, and then Samantha bursts out laughing—not in a mean way, but genuinely amused. @@.samantha;"Okay, that's actually kind of amazing. Like, I was expecting you to say 'yoga' or 'tennis with my friends at the country club.' Not, 'I paint tiny space knights in my room.' Respect."@@ Jessica glances at her in the mirror, surprised. @@.jessica;"Respect?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, that's //way// more interesting than what I thought you'd say,"@@ Samantha says, grinning. @@.samantha;"You've officially gained, like, one cool point. Don't let it get to your head."@@ Jessica shakes her head, but there's a softness to her smile now. @@.jessica;"Hopefully I can earn some more."@@ You can feel the tension in the car loosening, little by little. Jessica seems more relaxed too, shoulders settled and voice lighter. She doesn't have to keep performing. @@.player;"So, do you... collect them or just paint?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"Mostly paint,"@@ she admits. @@.jessica;"I've got a little box with a whole diorama I made inside of it. Finishing one is stupidly satisfying. Plus, nobody expects me to do it, so it feels like it's just... mine, you know? No judgment."@@ @@.player;"That's... actually really cool,"@@ you say honestly. Jessica gives you a grateful smile, and for a moment, she looks less like your high school's perfect golden girl and more like an actual person—one who just happens to spend her free time geeking out over miniatures. @@.samantha;"Alright, Waranvil Jessica,"@@ Samantha says, leaning back with a grin. @@.samantha;"You're slowly convincing me you're not as insufferable as I thought."@@ Jessica laughs again, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"You know what? I'll take it. That's high praise coming from you."@@ The car settles into an easy quiet after that—the kind where it feels like everyone's a little more comfortable than they were five minutes ago. <<else>>\ You glance at Samantha in the rearview mirror. She's slouched against the window, arms crossed like she's still deciding whether this trip is a good idea or if she's going to regret letting you drag her into it. Jessica hums softly along with the safe, upbeat pop playing through the speakers, her posture perfect, hands at nine and three like she's in a car commercial. The mood's... fine, but not quite relaxed. Fuck it. @@.player;"So, Sam,"@@ you say, twisting slightly in your seat to look back at her, @@.player;"what do you even listen to? You've been quietly judging Jessica's playlist since we left my house. What would //you// put on right now?"@@ She blinks at you before smirking. @@.samantha;"Oh, you mean real music? Paramore. Linkin Park. Evanescence. You know—stuff with actual feelings. Not this bubblegum background noise."@@ Jessica glances at her in the rearview mirror, still smiling. @@.jessica;"You like ?"@@ @@.samantha;"Obviously,"@@ Samantha says, sitting up a little straighter. @@.samantha;"Hybrid Theory is basically therapy. You can't tell me you've never screamed along to 'Crawling' before."@@ @@.jessica;"Believe it or not, I actually have,"@@ Jessica replies, chuckling. @@.jessica;"I used to blast that in my room when I was, like, thirteen. Felt very rebellious at the time."@@ Samantha blinks, surprised. @@.samantha;"Huh. Didn't expect that from Miss Cheer Captain."@@ Jessica just shrugs, that perfect smile softening into something more playful. @@.jessica;"There's a lot you wouldn't expect."@@ She takes a quick glance at her phone. @@.jessica;"Hey, Suri. Play Linkin Park."@@ The speakers respond with a chime, then the quiet, melodic intro of "What I've Done" fills the car. @@.samantha;"Ohh,"@@ Samantha exclaims, grinning. @@.samantha;"Okay. You might actually live through this road trip."@@ Jessica laughs as the beat kicks in. @@.jessica;"This one's a classic."@@ Within seconds, Samantha's mouthing the words, then singing under her breath. By the time the chorus hits, she's basically performing. Jessica surprises you by chiming in too—not as loud, but knowing every word. She doesn't hold back on the drumming either, hitting the steering wheel in rhythm like she's done this a thousand times already. @@.player;"You know all the words to this?"@@ you ask, blinking at her. @@.jessica;"What, you think I only listen to cheer music?"@@ Jessica asks, smirking. @@.jessica;"Please. I had an emo phase like everyone else."@@ Samantha barks a laugh. @@.samantha;"This I respect. Didn't think you had it in you."@@ @@.jessica;"There's a lot more to me than most people think."@@ @@.samantha;"Alright, I'll give you that,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Bonus points for actually knowing the lyrics."@@ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ @@.jessica;"Come on, $name,"@@ Jessica says, taking a hand off the steering wheel and putting a hand on your thigh. @@.jessica;"Don't leave us hanging. You have to sing too."@@ <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"Come on, $name,"@@ Jessica says, taking a hand off the steering wheel and putting a hand on your shoulder. @@.jessica;"Don't leave us hanging. You have to sing too."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Oh, I don't—"@@ you start, but Samantha interrupts. @@.samantha;"Wrong answer. You are ''not'' too cool for LP."@@ @@.player;"I never said I was too cool—"@@ @@.samantha;"Sing,"@@ she demands. And somehow, between the two of them staring you down, you do. Quietly at first, but by the second chorus, the three of you are yelling the lyrics together. Jessica's laughing between lines, Samantha's headbanging dramatically in the back seat, and for a few minutes, everything feels... easy. When the song ends, Samantha's still grinning, flushed from the impromptu jam session. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ she says, pointing at Jessica. @@.samantha;"You just gained, like, three cool points. Don't let it go to your head."@@ @@.jessica;"I'll try not to,"@@ Jessica says, smiling genuinely. The tension in the car has shifted. It's not completely gone—Samantha's still Samantha and Jessica's still Jessica—but there's a new ease between them, like the gap just got a little smaller. And you? You can't help but think this is going ''way'' better than you expected. <</if>>\ <<button "Nearly there" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 7">><</button>>

Jessica takes the next turn smoothly, the car gliding like it's too good for the potholes on the street. She's leaning back in her seat, one hand on the wheel and one hand resting. Samantha's sprawled in the back, her knees propped up against the door, idly drumming her fingers on her water bottle. <<if $d18samjessquestion is true>>\ The ride has been quiet for the past minute—just the hum of the AC and the soft music coming from the car speakers—until Samantha pipes up with that tone you //know// means trouble. <<else>>\ The ride has been quiet for the past minute—just the hum of the AC and Linkin Park playing quietly on the car speakers—until Samantha pipes up with that tone you //know// means trouble. <</if>>\ @@.samantha;"Sooo,"@@ she says, drawing the word out like she's building suspense, @@.samantha;"we're all in agreement about why we're doing this, right? This isn't just a casual trip to look around. This is a full-on intervention."@@ You frown, twisting a little in your seat. @@.player;"Intervention for what, exactly?"@@ Samantha doesn't miss a beat. @@.samantha;"For your fashion choices. Or more accurately, the total lack of them."@@ @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you groan. @@.player;"Not again."@@ @@.samantha;"No, no, don't 'oh my God' me,"@@ she says, leaning forward so she can rest her chin between the front seats, staring at you like a disappointed parent. @@.samantha;"You've been wearing the exact same thing for years, dude. Cargo shorts. White T-shirt. Those beat-up black Converse. It's your uniform. You're like... a video game character who doesn't change outfits."@@ @@.player;"They're comfortable,"@@ you mutter, automatically defensive. Jessica snickers from the driver's seat, glancing at you. @@.jessica;"Oh, I can confirm this. I think I've seen you in literally that exact outfit at least ten times since school started."@@ @@.player;"You keep track?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"It's hard //not// to,"@@ she says with a grin, leaning her elbow on the door like she's settling in for this. @@.jessica;"Believe it or not, I actually thought it was endearing at first. Like, you know, you're committed to a look. But then I realized it wasn't a 'look.' It's just you wearing the first few things in your closet forever."@@ Samantha cackles from the back seat. @@.samantha;"Thank you. Finally, someone else gets it."@@ You throw your hands up. @@.player;"Okay, hold on. First of all, I //do// wear other things."@@ @@.samantha;"Do you?"@@ Samantha says, eyebrows raised. @@.player;"Yes!"@@ @@.samantha;"Like what?"@@ she fires back immediately. You open your mouth, then close it. You can feel both of them staring at you, waiting. @@.samantha;"That's what I thought,"@@ Samantha says with smug satisfaction. You roll your eyes, but there's a small grin tugging at your lips. @@.player;"Glad my wardrobe is providing endless entertainment for you two."@@ Jessica glances at you from the driver's seat, her teasing expression softening into something warmer. @@.jessica;"Hey, you know we're just messing with you, right?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ Samantha adds, leaning forward between the seats. @@.samantha;"If we actually thought you were a hopeless case, we wouldn't bother trying. This is how we show love."@@ @@.player;"So I'm basically your chew toy?"@@ you ask, chuckling. @@.jessica;"No, of course not,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"You're our friend. And we like you enough to want to help you out."@@ @@.samantha;"If we didn't care, we'd just let you keep rocking the same clothes forever and never say a word,"@@ Samantha jokes. @@.jessica;"You deserve to feel good in what you wear, $name,"@@ Jessica states, her tone genuine. @@.jessica;"And if you've been stuck in the same thing for years, maybe it's time to try something new. We'll help you figure out what that is. That's why you invited us, right?"@@ Samantha leans back into her seat again, satisfied. @@.samantha;"By the end of today, you'll actually have options in your closet. It'll be historic."@@ You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. @@.player;"Alright, alright. I'm trusting you two."@@ Jessica grins. @@.jessica;"Good. We've got your back."@@ Her words feel true. <<button "Park at the mall!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 8">><</button>>

The rest of the drive is easy. The conversation drifts into safer territory: little side comments about the neighborhoods you pass, Samantha's running commentary on terrible billboard designs, and Jessica humming along to the music. Jessica turns into the mall's parking lot, easing the car into an open spot near the entrance. The glass facade reflects the late-afternoon sun, and streams of shoppers flow in and out of the big doors. She slips the car into park and exhales. @@.jessica;"Well,"@@ she says, unbuckling her seatbelt with a click. @@.jessica;"Here we are. Ground zero."@@ @@.samantha;"Ground zero,"@@ Samantha repeats from the back, stretching her arms over her head. @@.samantha;"Wow. You really know how to hype up retail therapy."@@ Jessica glances back with a grin. @@.jessica;"I know a thing or two about it."@@ Samantha's lips twitch like she's about to fire off another joke, but then she hesitates. Her gaze lingers on Jessica for a moment before she leans forward between the front seats. @@.samantha;"Hey,"@@ she says, her tone a little softer than usual, @@.samantha;"before we get out, I just wanted to say something."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"Oh?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah."@@ Samantha tugs at the hem of her beanie, clearly a little awkward. @@.samantha;"I know I was kind of... prickly earlier. Maybe more than I needed to be."@@ Jessica tilts her head. @@.jessica;"Prickly?"@@ @@.samantha;"Fine, I was rude,"@@ Samantha admits with a dramatic sigh, like the confession physically pains her. @@.samantha;"I just... I didn't really //know// you. And when people are all bubbly and perfect, I guess I get defensive. It felt like you weren't being totally real with me."@@ Jessica studies her for just a moment before breaking out into a small smile. @@.jessica;"That's fair,"@@ she says simply. @@.jessica;"We didn't really //know// each other. And... honestly? You're not wrong. I wasn't being totally real. It's kind of a habit, putting on the version of me that people expect."@@ @@.samantha;"Huh,"@@ Samantha says, not expecting the honesty. @@.samantha;"You're... not what I expected."@@ @@.jessica;"I'll take that as a compliment,"@@ Jessica says. @@.samantha;"Don't push it,"@@ Samantha says, though there's no bite to her words now. Jessica giggles, opening her door. @@.jessica;"Fine, I won't."@@ You glance between them, a little surprised at how naturally the tension dissolved. A couple of minutes ago, you weren't sure if they'd even survive the car ride together. Now? They're starting to understand each other. Jessica grabs her purse and steps out of the car, stretching her arms. @@.jessica;"Come on,"@@ she says brightly. @@.jessica;"Let's make today productive."@@ Jessica steps out ahead as the three of you make your way across the lot. You and Samantha trail a little behind, falling into a slower pace without even thinking about it. Samantha shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans, glancing at Jessica's back for a moment before leaning closer to you. @@.samantha;"I can see why you're friends with her now,"@@ she whispers, her tone quiet enough that Jessica won't hear. <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ You glance at Jessica, watching the way her ponytail sways as she walks, then quickly look away before Samantha can catch you staring. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, a little more thoughtful than you meant to. @@.player;"She's easy to get along with. Not really what I expected at first either."@@ Samantha hums in agreement. @@.samantha;"Yup. I can tell."@@ You keep your eyes fixed on the ground as you walk, a strange flutter sitting in your chest. You don't bother trying to name it. <<else>>\ You shrug, kicking at a stray pebble as you walk. @@.player;"Yeah. She's just nice. Like, genuinely nice. Not what I expected when I first met her."@@ Samantha nods, considering that. @@.samantha;"Yeah. Guess I judged too quick."@@ @@.player;"Maybe a little,"@@ you tease. She smirks, elbowing you lightly. @@.samantha;"Don't get used to me admitting I was wrong, $name."@@ <</if>>\ Up ahead, Jessica glances over her shoulder with a bright smile. @@.jessica;"You two coming, or are you planning on loitering out here all day?"@@ @@.samantha;"Coming!"@@ Samantha calls back, tugging you along by the sleeve. And just like that, the three of you step through the doors together, into the cool, bustling air of the mall. <<button "Mall time!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 9">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/mall.png"> The mall swallows you up in a rush of cool, manufactured air and the faint scent of cinnamon pretzels, fabric softener, and whatever cologne they're spraying at the men's department two stores down. It's a sudden shift from the sticky heat of outside to the sterile environment of retail therapy central. Floors polished so clean you can see the overhead lights reflecting, shoppers weaving in and out of storefronts, and ambient music pulsing softly from the ceiling. Jessica slows her pace just inside the entrance, pulling out her phone. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ she says, voice bright. @@.jessica;"What we need is a plan."@@ Samantha groans dramatically. @@.samantha;"A plan? What is this, a military op? We're just buying $name some clothes."@@ @@.jessica;"Exactly,"@@ Jessica says, smirking. @@.jessica;"At the end of the day, it is a mission. And like any good mission, we need a strategy. If we just wander around, we'll end up with him buying another boring outfit."@@ @@.player;"I can //feel// the judgment radiating off that sentence,"@@ you mutter. @@.jessica;"We'll start with basics,"@@ Jessica says, scrolling through something on her phone. @@.jessica;"Stuff you can mix and match. Then maybe some layering pieces."@@ Samantha tilts her head. @@.samantha;"Layering? Like scarves and jackets?"@@ @@.jessica;"Exactly,"@@ Jessica says, nodding. @@.jessica;"Things that make an outfit look intentional instead of... thrown on. We'll also have to pay attention to fit. That's half the battle. Too loose, and it looks sloppy. Too tight, and it looks uncomfortable. You need things that actually suit your frame."@@ @@.samantha;"Fit,"@@ Samantha echoes, giving a solemn nod. @@.samantha;"That's important, yeah."@@ Jessica keeps going like she's running a seminar. @@.jessica;"Comfort matters too. If it doesn't feel right, you won't wear it. Which means we might need to look at thing like underlayers. Tanks, undershirts..."@@ @@.samantha;"Or a bra,"@@ Samantha interjects casually, like she's listing socks or belts. Jessica nods in agreement, not missing a beat. @@.jessica;"Yeah, depending on how certain tops fit, that could make a huge difference."@@ You freeze mid-step. Samantha notices and glances at you, one eyebrow raised. @@.samantha;"Wait,"@@ she says, like the thought just hit her. @@.samantha;"Do you even //have// a bra?"@@ Her tone is just curious, like she's clearly expecting you to say yes. And suddenly, both of them are looking at you, waiting for your answer. <<if $bind is true>>\ <<if $binder is true>>\ You hesitate, feeling the weight of their stares. The question lingers longer than it should, and finally, you exhale. @@.player;"Uh... no. I don't... I don't have one. I've been using a binder."@@ That stops them both dead. Jessica's lips part in surprise, and Samantha stands up straighter like she didn't quite hear you right. @@.samantha;"A... binder?"@@ Samantha repeats, blinking. @@.samantha;"Like... a //real// one? That squishes your boobs to make you flat?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"Coach Blake got it for me about ten days ago."@@ Jessica's eyebrows shoot up, her eyes softening. @@.jessica;"Coach Blake? Wait, //the// Coach Blake? The one who yells at us for not running hard enough in P.E.?"@@ You can't help but huff a little laugh despite the tension creeping up your chest. @@.player;"Yeah. That Coach Blake. She kind of... noticed I was having a hard time during a run. Pulled me aside and asked if I had a proper binder. I told her no. A few minutes later, she had one for me."@@ @@.jessica;"That's... actually really kind of her,"@@ Jessica says, her expression sympathetic. @@.player;"It was,"@@ you admit quietly. Samantha, on the other hand, doesn't look softened at all. Her jaw tightens, and she stares at you like you just admitted you jumped out of a moving car for fun. @@.samantha;"And you've been wearing it all the time every single day?"@@ You nod cautiously. @@.player;"Pretty much."@@ Her face twists into disbelief, and her voice comes out sharper than you've heard all day. @@.samantha;"$name. How could you have done that?!"@@ @@.player;"I—"@@ @@.samantha;"No, seriously."@@ She gestures at you wildly, the way she does when she's worked up. @@.samantha;"Did you even look up how long you're supposed to wear it? How dangerous that is?"@@ @@.jessica;"Samantha,"@@ Jessica interrupts gently, her tone like a steadying hand. Samantha groans, running her hands down her face. @@.samantha;"Dude, I can't believe you. You can't just put something like that on and wear it like it's a T-shirt. It's ''not safe''. What if you hurt yourself?"@@ You blink, thrown off by the raw edge of her words. She's mad—but you can tell she's not mad at you. She's just worried. @@.player;"I didn't think it was a big deal,"@@ you say, quieter than you meant to. Jessica shakes her head immediately. @@.jessica;"Look, $name,"@@ she says softly, her voice full of kindness. @@.jessica;"Of course it's a big deal. You've been hurting yourself just to get by. That's not okay. You shouldn't have to do that."@@ You glance away, focusing on the shiny tile floor ahead. @@.player;"It's just... helpful. Makes me feel better. I figured some pain was just normal."@@ Jessica steps closer and lays a hand lightly on your shoulder. @@.jessica;"It's not supposed to hurt like that. If it does, it probably means it's too tight or that you've been wearing it too long. I don't want you thinking you just have to live with pain like that. You don't."@@ Samantha lets out a frustrated noise and crosses her arms, glaring at nothing in particular. @@.samantha;"I can't believe you didn't say anything. You should've told me. You know I would've—"@@ She cuts herself off, shaking her head like she's too wound up to finish. @@.jessica;"Sam,"@@ Jessica chides gently, but there's no real heat in it. @@.samantha;"Look, he's my best friend,"@@ Samantha says, her voice cracking. @@.samantha;"You don't get to just... silently hurt yourself and not tell me."@@ Jessica keeps her hand on your shoulder, her thumb brushing in a small but reassuring motion. @@.jessica;"She's just worried. We both are."@@ @@.player;"I didn't want to make it a big thing,"@@ you murmur. Jessica's smile doesn't waver. @@.jessica;"You don't //have// to make it a big thing. You just have to take care of yourself. That's all we want."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly,"@@ Samantha cuts in. Her voice is still sharp, albeit less than before. @@.samantha;"And step one of that is getting you an actual bra. One that's comfortable and doesn't hurt you. No arguments."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ Jessica agrees softly, squeezing your shoulder before letting her hand finally fall. @@.jessica;"You deserve to feel good and safe in your clothes. We're not leaving until we make that happen."@@ You stare at the two of them—Samantha shaking like she's ready to fight the binder and Jessica smiling reassuringly—and for the first time, it really sinks in that they're here for //you//. <<else>>\ You freeze for a moment, feeling both their eyes on you. There's no way to make this sound good, but lying would feel worse. So you take a breath and admit it. @@.player;"...No. I don't,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"I've just been... using a towel to flatten my chest."@@ Jessica blinks like she didn't hear you right. @@.jessica;"A... towel?"@@ Samantha leans forward between the seats, frowning. @@.samantha;"What do you mean, a towel? Like, actually—"@@ You cut in quickly. @@.player;"Yeah. I just fold it and... wrap it tight. It works well enough."@@ There's a pause—an awful, stretched silence where both of them are clearly processing that. Samantha is the first to speak, and her voice isn't as sharp as you expected. @@.samantha;"$name,"@@ she says slowly, like she's trying to figure out how not to shout. @@.samantha;"You've been doing that this whole time?"@@ You shrug weakly, staring down at the tiles under your feet. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ Jessica recovers next, and her usual energy is nowhere to be found. @@.jessica;"That can't be comfortable,"@@ she says softly. @@.jessica;"Doesn't it hurt?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, letting out a small laugh that dies almost instantly. @@.player;"I mean, it digs in and it's hard to breathe sometimes if I make it too tight. But it makes me feel better. People don't stare at me."@@ @@.jessica;"$name, that's dangerous,"@@ Jessica says firmly, taking a step closer. @@.jessica;"Towels aren't meant to do that. That can really hurt you."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you mumble. Samantha groans and presses her hands to her face, dragging them down with a frustrated sigh. @@.samantha;"God, $name. Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell //anyone//? You can't just do stuff like this to yourself and keep it secret."@@ Her words sting, but not in a cruel way. You can hear the worry in her voice. @@.player;"I didn't want it to be a big deal,"@@ you say. @@.player;"And it works. Mostly."@@ Jessica meets your eyes. @@.jessica;"You don't have to live with pain just because it makes other things easier. You deserve to be comfortable and safe."@@ You glance away, unsure what to do with the warmth in her words. Samantha exhales, crossing her arms. @@.samantha;"Look. I'm not mad, I'm just freaked out that you'd hurt yourself like this and not even say anything. You're my best friend. I'm supposed to look out for you, and I can't do that if you keep this stuff to yourself."@@ You manage a small nod, and that seems to ease her a little. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ Jessica states, her tone shifting from gentle to decisive. @@.jessica;"First things first, we're getting you a bra. A proper one. Something soft and supportive that doesn't hurt you. No arguments."@@ Samantha nods firmly. @@.samantha;"Yup. That's priority number one. The towel stops today."@@ @@.jessica;"We'll help you figure this out,"@@ Jessica says with a reassuring smile. @@.jessica;"You don't have to do it alone."@@ You swallow hard, looking between the two of them. They're serious—more serious than you've ever seen them about anything. They really do care. And somehow, even with the knot in your chest, that makes you feel a little better. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ You shift your weight, feeling both of their eyes on you. @@.player;"No,"@@ you admit after a moment, @@.player;"I don't have one."@@ @@.jessica;"Really?"@@ Jessica asks, tilting her head. @@.player;"Really,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"I just... didn't think I needed one."@@ Samantha peers at you like she's trying to figure out if you're serious. @@.samantha;"You've been going to school like this for weeks, looking like you do now, and you never thought to get one?"@@ <<if $breastsProg is 0>>\ You shrug again, awkward but honest. @@.player;"My chest is still... well, flat. Like, actually flat. There's nothing there to even need one for."@@ <<else>>\ You shrug again, awkward but honest. @@.player;"My chest is still... well, flat. Like, basically flat. There's nothing there to even need one for."@@ <</if>>\ Jessica blinks, her expression softening as she processes that. @@.jessica;"Oh. Okay. That makes sense."@@ @@.samantha;"Alright, fair,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"But still."@@ @@.player;"Still what?"@@ you ask, glancing at her. <<if $feminineLooks > 59>>\ She gestures vaguely toward you. @@.samantha;"You don't exactly look like 'old $name' anymore. You've got more of a tomboy vibe now—like, you look like a girl who just happens to dress casual. A bra might help make your outfits sit better, even if you don't need it for support."@@ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 39>>\ She gestures vaguely toward you. @@.samantha;"You don't exactly look like 'old $name' anymore. You've got this really androgynous thing going on now—like, depending on the outfit, people might read you either way. A bra might help pull the look together a bit. Even if you don't need it for support, it could make your clothes fit cleaner."@@ <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"She's right,"@@ Jessica says, nodding in agreement. @@.jessica;"It's not about need—it's about comfort and how your clothes sit on you. Some tops will look a lot smoother with a bra under them, even if it's just something light and soft."@@ You glance down at your top, suddenly a little more aware of how it hangs on you. @@.player;"I guess I didn't think about it that way."@@ @@.jessica;"That's what we're here for,"@@ Jessica says, smiling warmly. @@.jessica;"It doesn't have to be anything complicated. Just something simple that feels good and works with what you're wearing."@@ Samantha grins. @@.samantha;"Operation Closet Rescue expands. First stop: Bras."@@ You groan lightly at the way she says it, but for the first time, the idea doesn't feel so strange. Maybe, with them, it might not be so bad. <<elseif $bra is 0>>\ <div class="note">\ <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ If Jessica is the one who gave you the bra, she won't acknowledge it. This is because I forgot to put a variable there, so there's no way to check. Sorry! </div>\ @@.player;"Uh... actually,"@@ you say, scratching the back of your neck, @@.player;"I do have one. Kind of. A sports bra."@@ Samantha pauses. @@.samantha;"Oh?"@@ she asks. @@.samantha;"Where'd you get it from?"@@ @@.player;"Someone gave it to me,"@@ you say, keeping it vague. @@.player;"It wasn't really... fitted for me or anything like that. They just thought it might help, I guess."@@ @@.samantha;"So it's just random?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"The band is a little too tight and the strap's too loose. But it works well enough."@@ Jessica's brow furrows as she listens. @@.jessica;"$name, that doesn't sound like it actually works at all."@@ You glance down, suddenly feeling very aware of yourself in the crowded space. @@.player;"It's... better than nothing."@@ Samantha makes a face, the kind she reserves for when she's trying to be supportive but can't quite mask her bluntness. @@.samantha;"Better than nothing isn't good enough if it's uncomfortable. You've been wearing that this whole time?"@@ @@.player;"Mostly,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It doesn't really bother me much."@@ @@.jessica;"You shouldn't have to settle for that,"@@ Jessica states, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"A proper fit makes a huge difference."@@ Samantha nods. @@.samantha;"Exactly, and you can't just take whatever hand-me-down someone tosses you and call it good. It's like wearing shoes that are a size too small and convincing yourself it's fine because they stay on your feet."@@ You shrug again, unsure what to say. @@.player;"I didn't think it was that big a deal."@@ @@.jessica;"It is,"@@ Jessica says simply, like there's no debate to be had. @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ Samantha agrees. @@.samantha;"We're not letting you walk around in some mystery sports bra forever. Today, we're fixing that."@@ @@.jessica;"Luckily for you, I know exactly where to go,"@@ Jessica says, already glancing toward the mall directory. @@.jessica;"We'll find something simple, comfy, and actually fitted for you. You deserve that much."@@ Samantha bumps your shoulder lightly. @@.samantha;"Don't worry. We'll make it quick and painless. Probably. Depends on how indecisive you are."@@ @@.jessica;"And I promise it doesn't have to be anything fancy,"@@ Jessica says, giggling. @@.jessica;"Just something that feels right."@@ You look between the two of them, and the idea of actually getting one doesn't feel embarrassing or overwhelming anymore. It just feels... doable. <<else>>\ You hesitate for a second. There's no easy way to say it, but you figure honesty's better than letting them keep guessing. @@.player;"...No,"@@ you finally admit. @@.player;"I don't have one. No sports bra, no anything. I just... don't wear one."@@ @@.samantha;"Wait,"@@ Samantha says, eyes wide. @@.samantha;"Hold on. You mean to tell me you've been walking around like this with nothing? Just letting them hang there?"@@ You flush, suddenly wishing you'd kept your mouth shut. @@.player;"Yeah. I mean... I didn't think it was that big of a deal. They're not even that—"@@ @@.samantha;"$name,"@@ Samantha cuts you off. @@.samantha;"What the fuck, dude. You ''need'' support. That's, like, basic. How do you even move around without wanting to die? Doesn't that hurt?"@@ You look down at your top, a little defensive. @@.player;"Not... really? Sometimes, I guess. It can be uncomfortable though. I just try not to think about it."@@ Jessica steps closer, her usual energy dimmed by a kind of quiet seriousness you don't see often. @@.jessica;"$name, that's not good for you,"@@ she says gently but firmly. @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask, a little startled by how serious she sounds. @@.jessica;"Not having any support for your chest can cause all kinds of problems,"@@ she explains. @@.jessica;"It's not just about comfort. It can actually mess with your posture, cause pain in your back and shoulders, and even affect how your chest develops. It's ''really'' not good to go without."@@ Samantha nods, crossing her arms. @@.samantha;"Yeah, and you're not exactly flat anymore. You can't just ignore them. You need a bra. You've //needed// a bra for a while now."@@ @@.player;"I didn't know it was that serious,"@@ you admit. Jessica softens at that, her voice gentler now. @@.jessica;"I know. It's one of those things no one really explains, but it makes a huge difference. Even a simple bra will help you feel more supported and make moving around wayyy more comfortable."@@ @@.samantha;"And lucky for you, we're in the perfect place to fix this,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"First stop: bra store. We're not letting you walk around like this any longer."@@ @@.jessica;"I know it's scary,"@@ Jessica says, @@.jessica;"but I promise it'll make a difference."@@ You swallow, the mix of embarrassment and relief settling in your chest. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"You guys know better than I do. Lead the way."@@ Samantha claps you on the back, grinning. @@.samantha;"You're gonna thank us later. Trust me."@@ And just like that, you find yourself following them. You try not to think too hard about how surreal this all feels. After all, it might just be exactly what you need. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Bra store" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 10">><</button>>

<<if $d18stayblinkshine is true>>\ <<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\ <<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $currenthairacessory to $hairaccessory>>\ <<set $currenthairstyle to $hairStyle>>\ You look at the accessories wall. It's a little less threatening from the rest of the store—less commitment, more possibilities. Everything's arranged in neat little rows: tiny hair clips shaped like fruit, sparkling pins, pastel scrunchies, earrings dangling from gold hooks. @@.player;"Yeah, I //have// to check that section out,"@@ you murmur, already drifting toward it. @@.jessica;"Good call,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Accessories make or break an outfit. It's the details people notice more than you think."@@ Samantha sighs with all the theatrical flair of someone being led to her doom. @@.samantha;"Of course you'd say that,"@@ she says, arms still crossed like she's bracing for impact. @@.samantha;"Let it be known I followed you willingly into the Kingdom of Glitter. May history remember me as a good friend who died for the cause."@@ You glance back at her. @@.player;"Died?"@@ @@.samantha;"Spiritually,"@@ she says flatly. @@.samantha;"My soul can only take so much exposure to fruit-shaped hair clips before it gives up and ascends."@@ Jessica gives her a look. @@.jessica;"You're being dramatic. It's not that bad."@@ Samantha stares at her, then gestures vaguely toward the pastel chaos of Blink + Shine. @@.samantha;"Jessica. There are scrunchies here that look like they belong in a dollhouse, and I think the wall of headbands is judging me. If this isn't hostile territory, I don't know what is."@@ You pick up a lavender hairtie and give it an experimental tug. You turn your attention to the little container of hair ties. Four types sit coiled like soft spirals: <ul>\ <li>A plain elastic</li> <li>A simple ribbon</li> <li>A bunny ears ribbon</li> <li>A scrunchie</li> </ul>\ @@.samantha;"I don't get how people deal with long hair,"@@ Samantha mutters. @@.samantha;"You wash it, you dry it, you tie it, you try to make it not look like a bird nestled in it overnight—and then what? Some wind comes along and ruins it in two seconds anyway."@@ @@.jessica;"Long hair isn't that hard if you know what you're doing,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"It's actually pretty easy to manage once you get a routine down. Conditioner's non-negotiable, obviously, and a good scalp oil makes a ''huge'' difference."@@ You blink at her. @@.player;"Scalp oil? That's a thing?"@@ Jessica nods like this is common knowledge everyone should have. @@.jessica;"Oh, totally. If your scalp is dry or unhealthy, your hair's going to suffer. Oils help keep it balanced and hydrated. Plus, regular brushing helps distribute the natural oils so it stays shiny. And you have to trim it regularly. Split ends are the enemy."@@ @@.player;"Okay, but how about tying it up? Like... doesn't that just pull on it all the time?"@@ Jessica tilts her head, reaching up to adjust the maroon hairtie holding her ponytail in place. @@.jessica;"It really depends on how you do it. Ponytails are totally fine if you don't yank them too tight or sleep in them. I like using ribbons like this or scrunchies 'cause they're gentler on the hair. And if you braid it at night, it won't tangle as much. It's all about balance, to be honest. You're meant to treat your hair like it's delicate, but not like it's untouchable."@@ @@.samantha;"God, that sounds exhausting,"@@ Samantha says, pulling her beanie lower over her short, choppy hair. @@.samantha;"I wake up, put on a beanie, and go about my day. My hair hasn't seen oil, or a 'routine,' or whatever the hell you just described in, like, ever. And guess what? It's fine."@@ Jessica side-eyes her, not missing a beat. @@.jessica;"It's fine because you've basically opted out of having a style. Beanies are just hiding whatever's going on under there."@@ @@.samantha;"They're efficient,"@@ Samantha counters. @@.samantha;"Plus, the beanie //is// my style."@@ @@.player;"I mean... she's not wrong,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I've never once seen Sam without a beanie."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly!"@@ Samantha beams. @@.samantha;"It's part of the brand. No beanie, no Samantha."@@ @@.jessica;"You two are impossible,"@@ Jessica says, although there's a faint smile tugging at her lips. @@.jessica;"Look, I'm not saying everyone has to have a ten-step hair routine, but even a little effort goes a long way. Long hair frames your face differently. It can soften or sharpen your features depending on the cut and color. It's way more versatile than short hair since you can experiment, change things up, play with your look, all that stuff."@@ Samantha groans, crossing her arms even tighter. @@.samantha;"Or you could just have short hair and save yourself the TED talk."@@ You glance back at the wall of hair pins. @@.player;"Maybe I'll just start small. Accessories seem... easy."@@ <<button "Try some accessories on" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Blink + Shine 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance once more toward the accessories wall. All those glittering pastel trinkets and softly glowing displays. The racks of lavender hair ties. The earrings shaped like strawberries and clouds. You take exactly one step forward. And then stop. Nope. You pivot on your heel and head back toward the entrance without a word. Samantha perks up immediately. @@.samantha;"Wait—are we leaving? Are you leaving?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. It's not really... for me."@@ She exhales in exaggerated, performative relief. @@.samantha;"Thank //God//. I thought I was gonna die in there."@@ Jessica, who'd been lazily sifting through a rack of cropped sweaters, looks up immediately. @@.jessica;"Really? You're not even going to look?"@@ Her tone isn't judgmental, just mildly disappointed. @@.jessica;"That's kind of a shame. They've got some nice stuff back there if you take a minute."@@ @@.player;"Just not feeling it,"@@ you say. Jessica studies you for a second longer, but eventually decides to let it drop with a faint sigh. @@.jessica;"Fine, I guess. One day, you're going to regret walking away from a perfectly good wall of accessories."@@ @@.samantha;"Doubt it,"@@ Samantha pipes up. @@.samantha;"This place is a minefield of ruffles and vibes I can't handle. I was starting to think you'd make me stand here while you tried on pearl-studded hair clips."@@ Jessica shoots her a look. @@.jessica;"God forbid anyone try to soften your aesthetic for five seconds."@@ @@.samantha;"I'll have you know, my aesthetic is perfect,"@@ Samantha says with a big smirk on her face. @@.samantha;"Zero ruffles. Zero pastels. One hundred percent survivable."@@ @@.jessica;"Survivable isn't exactly aspirational,"@@ Jessica says, breezing past her toward the exit. You open the door and step out, letting the soft, peachy scent of Blink + Shine fall away as you step back into the louder, brighter expanse of the mall. Jessica glances at you as she pushes her hair behind one ear. @@.jessica;"Still, though. Next time, you should at least give it a chance. Accessories are the easiest way to try something new without committing to a whole look."@@ @@.player;"Next time,"@@ you echo, though you're not sure you mean it. Samantha, already walking a few paces ahead, throws up a hand in mock celebration. @@.samantha;"Victory for the hoodie-wearing population. We live to fight another day."@@ Jessica shakes her head. @@.jessica;"You're impossible."@@ @@.samantha;"And yet, beloved,"@@ Samantha quips. You chuckle under your breath as you fall into step between them. Maybe you didn't walk out with anything new, but at least you tried going inside. And right now, that feels like enough. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ Maya's back at the register when you approach. Her smile blooms the second she sees the clothes in your arms—like she's genuinely proud of your picks, like she's seen this kind of decision before and knows just how much it means. @@.girl;"Ooh, good choices,"@@ she says, reaching for the items with a practiced ease. She scans them one by one, folding them gently. @@.girl;"You'll pull them off well, I can feel it."@@ You laugh, flush warming your face. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ Jessica standing just behind you, nods approvingly @@.jessica;"Honestly? You've got an eye for this stuff. Those pieces are super versatile. I told you Blink + Shine isn't that bad."@@ Samantha leans an elbow on the counter, letting out a loud, fake sigh. @@.samantha;"Don't encourage him,"@@ she says to Jessica. @@.samantha;"Do you realize what's happening here? I've officially lost my best friend to the pastel abyss. First it was hairpins. Now it's high-waisted shorts and flowy dresses. Next thing you know, I'm gonna come over and there'll be scented candles, bath bombs, and a Pinterest board."@@ Maya doesn't miss a beat. @@.girl;"Honestly? Sounds like a glow-up to me."@@ @@.samantha;"You are ''not'' helping,"@@ Samantha groans, but she's grinning as she says it. @@.jessica;"See?!"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Even the staff agrees."@@ You pull out your phone and tap it against the reader. The soft ding confirms the purchase with a satisfying finality. Maya slides your receipt into the bag and then passes it across the counter. @@.girl;"Thanks for trusting yourself,"@@ she says, quiet now, like it's just between the two of you. @@.girl;"You looked good. I hope it made you feel good too."@@ You meet her eyes, and you don't need to say anything. You just nod. Then you're heading toward the door, Samantha trailing behind you with the most dramatic limp you've ever seen. @@.samantha;"Do you feel that?"@@ she says as you push open the door. @@.samantha;"The tragedy? The betrayal? The estrogen in the air?"@@ @@.jessica;"Isn't there estrogen in your body?"@@ Jessica fires. Samantha doesn't even bother responding. You laugh. @@.jessica;"Look, you look happy,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"That's what matters."@@ You smile at that. @@.player;"Yeah. I kind of am."@@ Samantha walks a few paces ahead, then spins around to face you. @@.samantha;"Happy? He's glowing! $name, just yesterday, you were a humble peasant in cargo shorts and a T-shirt. Today? A goddess in linen."@@ @@.player;"Should I be offended or flattered?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ she says. You keep going and you feel lighter, not just because of the bag swinging at your side, but because of something else entirely. Something that feels like permission. Like maybe, just maybe, you're starting to let yourself be exactly who you are. <<else>>\ You walk up to the counter with the clothes in your arms, the folded items inside feeling heavier than they should. They're not even that flashy—just a couple of things, nothing major—but now they feel like they're glowing in the bag, practically announcing themselves. Maya looks up from the register with a mellow smile and reaches for your bag. @@.girl;"All set?"@@ she asks. You nod, tight-lipped. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ She doesn't push, just scans the items quickly. @@.girl;"These are cute picks. Nice touch of colors."@@ You force a little smile, the kind that doesn't quite reach your eyes. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ Maya slides the receipt into a bag and hands it back to you. @@.girl;"Hope they treat you well,"@@ she says kindly. @@.girl;"And thanks for stopping by."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"You too."@@ You turn, clutching the bag a little too tight, and head for the exit. Samantha and Jessica fall in step beside you immediately, no hesitation. None of you speaks at first. The bright hum of Blink + Shine fades as the door swings shut behind you, replaced with the colder, wider air of the mall corridor. The peach scent and soft lighting give way to the polished tile and overhead fluorescents. Jessica watches you out of the corner of her eye as you grip the bag tightly, your knuckles whitening around the handle. @@.jessica;"You okay?"@@ Jessica asks, voice softer now. You keep walking a few paces before muttering, @@.player;"I don't know. It just... feels dumb. Buying all that. Like it wasn't me."@@ Jessica frowns, but Samantha gets there first. @@.samantha;"You're not dumb,"@@ she says bluntly. @@.samantha;"You tried something new. Sometimes it clicks. Sometimes it feels like trying on someone else's skin. That's just how it is."@@ @@.player;"That's an oddly insightful way to put it,"@@ you say, glancing at her. @@.samantha;"I contain multitudes,"@@ Samantha says with a deadpan expression. @@.samantha;"Also, you didn't burst into flames wearing it, so that's a win in my book."@@ Jessica adds, @@.jessica;"And even if it //wasn't// your style, that's fine. You don't have to get it perfect."@@ @@.player;"I guess,"@@ you say, breathing out slowly. @@.jessica;"Hey, I promise, nobody's keeping score,"@@ Jessica says with an encouraging smile. @@.jessica;"You just bought some clothes. That's all."@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"And if you ever want to ceremonially burn them, I've got matches somewhere in my pockets."@@ That earns her an actual laugh from you. You walk a little slower as the bag swings at your side, the weight still there but not quite as suffocating. You don't know if the clothes will ever feel like you, but between Samantha and Jessica, the heaviness doesn't feel quite so unbearable. And for now, that's enough. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Choice">><</button>>

<<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<set $hairaccessory to $currenthairaccessory>>\ <<set $hairStyle to $currenthairstyle>>\ You stand in front of the accessory mirror, the lavender hairpin resting between your fingers like it weighs more than it should. It doesn't, of course—it's barely a whisper in your grip. But your hand hesitates anyway, hovering just above your head, like you're waiting to be given permission. You don't get any. So you breathe in, tilt your head, and snap the pin into place. The change is small—subtle enough you're not even sure it's visible. But it does something to your silhouette in the mirror. Softens it. Shifts it just enough that you pause, unsure what you're seeing. It's not better or worse, just... different. Jessica appears at your side, catching your eye in the mirror. @@.jessica;"Oh, that actually works,"@@ she says, smiling softly. @@.jessica;"It frames your face in a nice way. Lavender's a good choice for you."@@ You glance at her, surprised by how casual and certain she sounds. @@.player;"You really think so?"@@ @@.jessica;"Definitely."@@ She reaches up to adjust her own maroon hairtie, the one holding her ponytail neatly in place. @@.jessica;"Lavender softens your features and draws attention to the eyes. I think it suits you."@@ Behind you, Samantha lets out a long, theatrical groan. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she says, flinging her arms out like she's been hit by wave of invisible glitter. @@.samantha;"It's over. You've crossed into the sparkle realm. I've lost my best friend."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"It's one hairpin, Sam."@@ @@.samantha;"One lavender hairpin,"@@ she corrects, voice climbing half an octave in mock horror. @@.samantha;"That's the gateway drug, $name. Next thing you know, you're wearing flower crowns and watching makeup tutorials at 2 a.m."@@ Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"You're acting like that's a bad thing. Accessories are supposed to be fun."@@ @@.samantha;"Fun for you, maybe,"@@ Samantha retorts. @@.samantha;"I can barely keep this beanie straight on my head, let alone wear one of those dainty little ribbons."@@ You snort. @@.player;"You literally wore glitter eyeliner to the school dance once."@@ @@.samantha;"That was different,"@@ she says, tossing her head. @@.samantha;"That was battle armor. And besides, I balanced it out with ripped jeans and, like, combat boots. It was a look."@@ @@.jessica;"Not a bad one,"@@ Jessica admits, giving Samantha a half-smile. Samantha waves her off like she doesn't want the compliment, even though she does. You turn toward the little display beside the mirror. Four types of lavender hair ties sit in a tray: a plain elastic, a soft ribbon, one with floppy bunny ears, and a plush scrunchie. You reach out, gently poking at them one by one. Samantha leans down to inspect the display like she's evaluating evidence at a crime scene. @@.samantha;"You planning to put your hair up with one of those?"@@ she asks. @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you say, because you honestly don't know. She makes a noise like a dying cat. @@.samantha;"Ugh. Long hair. Why would you //want// that kind of responsibility?"@@ <<if $hairProg is 3>>\ @@.player;"I already have long hair,"@@ you remind her. @@.samantha;"Yeah, and I've been meaning to stage an intervention,"@@ she shoots back. @@.samantha;"You know how easy it is to live your life when you don't wake up with a tangled bird's nest on your head? You just //exist//. You just //vibe//. You throw on a beanie and call it fashion."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"You wear the same beanie like every day."@@ @@.samantha;"Its called a signature look,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Learn some culture."@@ <<elseif $hairProg is 2>>\ @@.player;"I don't have long hair,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's like... medium."@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"Medium is just long that's pretending it's still low-maintenance. That stuff tangles if you breathe wrong."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"I do brush it, you know."@@ @@.samantha;"Barely,"@@ she fires back. @@.samantha;"You need a whole hair care routine and a support group just to make that length work."@@ @@.player;"You literally wear a beanie."@@ @@.samantha;"It's called having a brand,"@@ she says, flicking her fingers. @@.samantha;"Try to keep up."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I don't //need// hair ties,"@@ you point out, brushing your hand over your head. @@.player;"It's already short."@@ Samantha gives you a dry look. @@.samantha;"Yeah, but //you// look like you keep it short for convenience. I keep mine short for the aesthetic. Huge difference."@@ You snort. @@.player;"You're in a graphic tee and a beanie right now."@@ @@.samantha;"And still somehow serving,"@@ she says, striking a dramatic pose. @@.samantha;"Minimal effort, maximum style. Meanwhile, you're out here debating hair accessories like it's a moral crisis."@@ @@.player;"Maybe I'm just evolving,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.samantha;"Then evolve faster,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Your final form better be iconic."@@ <</if>>\ You reach down and pick up the bunny ears hair tie. You twirl it between your fingers, letting it dangle. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"It //is// kind of cute."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, well,"@@ she mutters, glancing off to the side. @@.samantha;"It's not like anyone else should get to tell you what to wear, right?"@@ You blink at her. @@.samantha;"What?"@@ she snaps, a little too quickly. @@.samantha;"I can be supportive."@@ @@.player;"Sure,"@@ you say, still spinning the ribbon slowly. @@.samantha;"Just don't expect me to get matching ones,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"My hair tie phase died in elementary school."@@ You grin. @@.player;"So you had a phase?"@@ @@.samantha;"No comment."@@ You turn back to the mirror, the ribbon still in your hand, the lavender pin glinting faintly in your hair. The shop's lighting is soft here—almost too gentle compared to the rest of the mall. There's no pressure to do anything. But there //is// an invitation. And for once, you think you might say yes. <<button "Time to buy!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Blink + Shine 4">><</button>>

You turn the little accessory over in your hands one last time—simple, small, yet somehow enough to shift something internal. Like a nudge toward a version of yourself that's been hovering just out of reach. Samantha lingers a few steps behind as you quietly head toward the counter. She doesn't say anything at first, just trails behind with her hands stuffed into her pockets like she's forced to be here. Which, to be fair, she kind of is. You place your choices on the counter. Whatever they are, they feel like the right ones. The sales associate, Maya, appears with a practiced ease, her bracelets giving a soft clatter as she starts scanning your items. Jessica watches you from a few feet away, her expression soft. @@.jessica;"That's actually cute,"@@ she says, nodding toward your choice. @@.jessica;"It works for you. Subtle, but still makes a statement."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"That's a lot of thought for a hair thingie or whatever."@@ @@.jessica;"Accessories are underrated,"@@ she says with a little grin. @@.jessica;"They're like punctuation, if you think about it. Tiny, but capable of changing the entire vibe. You'll see what I mean."@@ Samantha lingers a few steps behind as you quietly head toward the counter. She doesn't say anything at first, just trails behind with her hands stuffed into her pockets like she's being forced to witness some great tragedy. You place your choices on the counter. Whatever they are, they feel like the right ones. @@.girl;"Good picks,"@@ Maya says with a warm smile. @@.girl;"You've got an eye for what works together."@@ You blink, unsure how to take the compliment. @@.player;"Uh... thanks."@@ @@.jessica;"See?"@@ Jessica says, leaning in with a playful smirk. @@.jessica;"Even the pros approve."@@ Samantha peeks over your shoulder, squinting at the counter. @@.samantha;"Wow,"@@ she says flatly. @@.samantha;"Look at you, $name. Joining the ranks of the accessorized. Never thought I'd see the day."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Is that your official review?"@@ @@.samantha;"Hey, I'm impressed,"@@ she says, folding her arms. @@.samantha;"It's nice."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Thanks?"@@ @@.samantha;"Don't let it go to your head,"@@ she adds, grinning. @@.samantha;"Next thing I know, you'll be dragging me into a store full of pastel crop tops and high heels, and that's where I draw the line."@@ Jessica cuts in with a laugh. @@.jessica;"Please. You'd look great in pastel. Own it."@@ @@.samantha;"Absolutely not,"@@ Samantha fires back, making a face. @@.samantha;"I'd rather get tackled by Luke than wear one of those little ruffle things."@@ @@.jessica;"You'd say that until you tried one on."@@ @@.samantha;"Not happening."@@ Maya hands you a little branded bag with your receipt tucked neatly inside. @@.girl;"These'll look great,"@@ she says warmly. @@.girl;"Sometimes small changes do the most."@@ You nod, your fingers curling around the handle. The bag crinkles softly, light in your hand—but heavier in meaning. Samantha glances at it like it might combust. @@.samantha;"You realize this is the most feminine bag you've ever carried, right?"@@ You look down at it. @@.player;"It's paper."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah. But it //feels// like glitter,"@@ she deadpans. @@.samantha;"You carry that out of here and there's no going back."@@ @@.player;"Then I guess I'm committed."@@ @@.jessica;"Good,"@@ Jessica says smiling. @@.jessica;"Committed is a good look on you."@@ She throws an arm around your shoulder in exaggerated mock support. @@.samantha;"Godspeed, soldier. May your hair clips be strong and your inner doubt minimal."@@ You scoff, rolling your eyes, but you don't shrug her off. Her arm's warm and familiar, and for all her dramatic flair, there's a sincerity under it that you don't miss. Jessica glances toward the rest of the store, hands on her hips. @@.jessica;"You know, the clothes here aren't half bad,"@@ Jessica mentions. @@.jessica;"I've gotten some cute pieces from here before. The quality is decent."@@ Samantha groans dramatically. @@.samantha;"Oh God. Here it comes. The 'let's try on clothes' speech."@@ @@.jessica;I didn't say that,"@@ Jessica says innocently. @@.jessica;"Yet."@@ The rest of the store suddenly feels like a different planet. The accessories wall was one thing—small, safe, optional. Clothing, though? That's bigger. You feel the weight of the moment press just a little. @@.samantha;"So,"@@ Samantha says, drawing the word out. @@.samantha;"Is this the part where you walk out or do we see what fashion crimes await beyond the accessories zone?"@@ You look from the racks to the exit, and the choice sits there, waiting. <<button "Go to the clothing section" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Blink + Shine 6">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine2 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine2" "Go to the clothing section" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide to leave the store" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Blink + Shine 6">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine2 to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine2" "Decide to leave the store" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18stayblinkshine2 is true>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ You hesitate for a beat, your eyes flicking toward the exit—toward safety, toward certainty, toward a version of yourself that didn't just buy hair accessories from a peace-scented boutique. But your hand tightens around the little shopping bag, fingers curling around the edge. And when you lift your chin, it's with just enough to surprise even yourself. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, voice quiet but clear. @@.player;"Sure. I'll take a look."@@ Jessica grins like she just won a bet. @@.jessica;"See? I knew you weren't going to wimp out,"@@ she says, brushing a strand of her ponytail back. @@.jessica;"You've already gotten halfway through the store, might as well commit to seeing all of it."@@ Samantha lets out a low whistle, dragging her beanie down just a little over her forehead. @@.samantha;"Oh damn,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"I was 80% sure you were gonna nope out. Respect."@@ You shrug, but there's a crooked smile on your face that gives you away. @@.player;"Guess I'm full of surprises."@@ @@.jessica;"I like this version of you,"@@ Jessica says, teasing but genuine. @@.jessica;"Brave enough to shop here."@@ Maya reappears from seemingly nowhere, like a stylish fairy godmother who works on commission. She beams, clearly pleased, and gestures with a hanger. @@.girl;"This way,"@@ she says, already guiding you deeper into the store. Samantha falls into step beside you, casting a wary glance around the racks like one of them might try to convert her into a girly girl on the spot. @@.samantha;"If one of these mannequins winks at me, I'm burning this place down,"@@ she mutters. @@.jessica;"Relax, Samantha,"@@ Jessica says, laughing. @@.jessica;"It's a clothing store, not a horror movie."@@ @@.samantha;"Easy for you to say,"@@ Samantha shoots back, sidestepping a rack of glittery cardigans. @@.samantha;"This is your natural habitat. I'm out here like a raccoon that wandered into a makeup store."@@ @@.jessica;"Not everything has to be combat boots and sarcasm."@@ Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"Works for me."@@ Maya leads you into a section lit just a little warmer than the rest, where each piece hangs with a certain amount of dignity. Not crowded, not shoved together—like the clothes are being patient. Like they're waiting for someone to notice them. @@.girl;"You see, we don't really //do// fast fashion,"@@ Maya explains, pausing to smooth out the hem of a skirt. @@.girl;"Everything's selected in small batches. If it's here, it's supposed to be here."@@ You nod and scan the selection: a cream apron-style dress that whispers vintage, pleated skirts, blush pink shorts that catch the light, a denim skirt, and more. Each item feels like it's been invited here on purpose. @@.jessica;"See? This isn't bad,"@@ Jessica says, looking at the selections. @@.jessica;"You could build some really cute outfits out of this stuff."@@ Samantha squints at the shorts. @@.samantha;"These look like they require a latte and a skincare routine. Not exactly my thing."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Thanks for the vote of confidence."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm just saying,"@@ she says, holding up the pleated skirt with two fingers like it might bite her. @@.samantha;"This stuff's like... fairycore. Do you get what I mean? If you come out in one of these and start talking about moon rituals, I'm leaving you here."@@ @@.jessica;"Moon rituals aren't the worst aesthetic,"@@ Jessica comments. @@.samantha;"They are when you have to buy the crystals for them,"@@ Samantha fires back. You roll your eyes, but your grip on the bag softens. The banter somehow makes it easier. Safe, even in a place that feels so far from your usual. At the edge of the section, Maya hooks a few pieces onto a hangar and offers them to you. @@.girl;"Fitting rooms are just over there,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Take your time."@@ You glance over. The fitting area is cozy, even having a little bench and mirror. Samantha crosses her arms and leans against a rack of pants, clearly not planning to move. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Moment of truth. Show me your final form."@@ @@.player;"What if I come out in a full dress?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. She considers it for a few seconds. @@.samantha;"Depends,"@@ she says, finally. @@.samantha;"Do you spin dramatically? Because that would //definitely// earn bonus points."@@ @@.jessica;"Just try them on,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"You don't have to spin unless you want to."@@ Maya chuckles as she walks off, giving you space. @@.girl;"I'll be at the front if you need sizes,"@@ she calls over her shoulder. You breathe in and put one foot in front of the other. The door is right there, and now it's all up to you. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ There may be issues with clipping and certain assets not fitting. Please understand! </div>\ <<button "Try some stuff on" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Blink + Shine 7">><</button>> <<else>>\ You take one last glance at the rows of feminine clothing—not harshly, just enough to make it real. @@.player;"Not today,"@@ you murmur. @@.samantha;"Bold choice,"@@ she says, grinning. @@.samantha;"Live to fight another day, huh?"@@ @@.jessica;"Aww,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Not going to look at the clothes at all?"@@ You offer her a small shrug. @@.player;"I don't think I'm ready to."@@ Her expression softens in understanding. @@.jessica;"That's fair."@@ Samantha claps her hands together once, almost like she's breaking a spell. @@.samantha;"Thank God,"@@ she declares dramatically, spinning toward the exit. @@.samantha;"Because if I had to stand next to another rack of pink cardigans for one more minute, I was gonna spontaneously combust."@@ @@.jessica;"You know, for the record, I still think you'd look good in some of this stuff,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"But there's no rush. You do this at your pace."@@ You nod in response. You, Samantha, and Jessica step out out the store, and the scent of peach and perfume fades into the natural mall air, replaced by the faint whir of escalators and some distant pop remix playing from a speaker. Blink + Shine's pink-and-gold signage stays lit behind you like it's gently judging your life choices. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ Samantha says, exhaling like she just escaped a hostage situation. @@.samantha;"Blink + Shine: survived, conquered, escaped."@@ Jessica shakes her head, grinning. @@.jessica;"You're impossible."@@ @@.samantha;"I appreciate it,"@@ Samantha says proudly. There's a smile tugging at your mouth as the two of you merge back into the steady flow of shoppers. And even though you didn't try on any clothes, you feel like you made the right call. At least for today. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $outfit to $tempoutfit>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You hear the door's soft //click// as it closes behind you, sealing you into a hushed little world of your own. Inside the dim fitting room, everything feels gentler—like someone paused the noise outside just for this moment. On the bench lies your selection: a clean white tank top, an oversized soft sweater, and a cute blue skirt. There are a few other pieces still on their hangers—they send a flutter of anticipation through your chest. You sit down, your hand lingering over the sweater, feeling its weight and texture. It hums with possibility. You begin changing deliberately—the tank top slides on easily, snug but soft. The sweater settles itself just right on your shoulders. You slip into the skirt, and something settles in your chest—a careful calm that feels... correct. You step toward the mirror and freeze for a moment. It's not unease—it's wonder. The reflection isn't someone else. It's //you//, clearer and more honest than ever. Like static faded, and a deeper melody emerged. You do a little spin, enough to let the skirt flutter around your legs, and laugh—light and surprised. Your hands smooth the front, then adjust the folds, then smooth again. Not from doubt, but because you ''like'' this feeling. So much that your breath warms and settles in your ribs. Beautiful. You realize the word fits you now. You can't help but smile. Not the nervous, halfway kind you've been doing a lot lately. This one is quiet but whole. You stay like that for a second longer than necessary. Just... looking. Then, slowly, you change back. As you fold the clothes you won't be buying and hang the ones you will back on your arm, your fingers tremble slightly—not with uncertainty, but with something close to joy. You open the door. Jessica and Samantha are parked by a nearby rack, mid-conversation. Jessica's absently combing through a row of cardigans with one hand, her long blonde ponytail swaying as she turns to make some point. Samantha, on the other hand, is slouched against the wall, arms crossed, wearing the look of someone who's just been enduring a lecture. @@.jessica;"—I'm just saying that good clothes make you feel different,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"You carry yourself differently. Like, confidence isn't just internal. It's also about how things fit and how you see yourself in the mirror."@@ Samantha groans. @@.samantha;"See, this is what happens when you leave me alone with you in a pastel death trap. I get a psych lecture."@@ Jessica rolls her eyes, but it's playful. @@.jessica;"It's not a psych lecture. It's just fashion, Sam."@@ Then they notice you, both set of eyes landing on you at once. @@.jessica;"Well?"@@ Jessica says, eyebrows raised. @@.jessica;"How'd it go in there?"@@ You can feel it on your face—the stupid little smile you can't quite get rid of. @@.player;"Good,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Really good, actually."@@ Jessica brightens instantly, practically clapping her hands together. @@.jessica;"See? I told you this place had its moments. Didn't it feel different? You're still you, but feminine."@@ Samantha squints at you like you've betrayed her. @@.samantha;"Oh no,"@@ she mutters, backing up a step in genuine horror. @@.samantha;"No. Nooo. I've lost him. He's gone. My best friend—stolen by the dark forces of ruffles and soft lighting."@@ @@.jessica;"Dark forces?"@@ Jessica repeats. @@.jessica;"This store is literally the definition of bright pastel heaven. It's like walking into a strawberry milkshake. There's nothing dark about it."@@ Samantha groans and slaps a hand over her face. @@.samantha;"Oh, that's even worse! I've been dragged into the lair of the bubblegum overlords. My soul can't survive this much pink."@@ You laugh, actually laugh, and that's enough to make Samantha peek at you between her fingers. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she says slowly, her eyes narrowing like she's studying a strange phenomenon. @@.samantha;"You liked it. You actually liked it in there."@@ You glance down at the clothes in your hands, then back up. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you admit, with a little shrug. @@.player;"I... did."@@ Jessica grins, triumphant. @@.jessica;"And that's why you trust me. Fashion enlightenment, delivered as promised."@@ @@.samantha;"Guess that's it then,"@@ Samantha says like she's in pain. @@.samantha;"Guess that's it, then. My best friend's a girlypop now. Gonna start doing filtered selfies next, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Maybe I will."@@ @@.jessica;"Well, come on then,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Let's make it official before Samantha has a full-blown identity crisis over there."@@ Samantha mutters something about @@.samantha;"buying a coping beanie"@@ under her breath as she follows, but you're already heading toward the counter. <<else>>\ You push the fitting room door closed behind you—it clicks shut, cutting out Blink + Shine's gentle bubblegum pop. Here, under the harsh fitting-room lights, it's just you and the clothes. You glance down at what you're about to try on, resting neatly on the bench: a white tank top, an oversized sweater, a cute blue skirt—and a few other things that make your heart race. They //should// be safe and unthreatening. They're just pieces of fabric, after all. But as you pull on the tank top, you feel a familiar tension anchor in your chest—the question: Is this really you? You catch your reflection as the fabric settles on your shoulder, heart twisting slightly. The clothes fit—shoulder seams sit right, the cut flatters, the fabric flows. You're not hiding in them. But there's still //distance// between you and the person in the mirror. You stand straighter, arms folding across your chest like armor. Try your best to mimic confidence. Tilt your chin. Exhale. But every pose feels rehearsed. Distant. And inside, the question still churns: "What am I even doing?" You switch to another skirt. Tug it on, smooth the fabric over your waist and hips, step back. It looks... fine. But still wrong. Wrong enough to make your throat tighten. There's no panic, no disgust. Just a slow, hollow well of disappointment. You really wanted this to work—and you tried it. But that doesn't make it click. You strip the clothes off carefully, fold each one back just how they were, neat and patient on the bench. Then you slide into your familiar top. It doesn't feel incredible—it just feels ''right''. Unremarkable, but you. That's enough. You pull open the door and step out. Jessica and Samantha are both waiting just outside, talking. Both of them look up the second you step out. You're back in your regular clothes. Jessica tilts her head, taking in your expression. @@.jessica;"So...?"@@ she says gently, eyebrows lifting. @@.jessica;"How'd it go?"@@ You hesitate. @@.player;"Didn't work,"@@ you admit finally. @@.player;"It just... didn't feel like me."@@ @@.samantha;"Called it,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Those pink shorts were a bad omen from the start."@@ Jessica shoots her a look before turning back to you. @@.jessica;"It's okay, $name. You don't have to like everything. That's the point of trying things, isn't it? You figure out what feels right and what doesn't."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Guess I'm just not the kind of person who would shop here."@@ @@.jessica;"Let's just chalk this one up as a test run and move on,"@@ Jessica says, brushing some dust off her skirt. Samantha drapes an arm across your shoulders, steering you toward the door with exaggerated care like you've just survived something harrowing. @@.samantha;"C'mon. Let's escape before someone tries to sell you matching pearl earrings. We'll find you something good that doesn't make you feel like you're in girlland."@@ You nod. Neither Jessica or Samantha press. They just walk with you like this was nothing more than a weird little detour. And honestly? You're grateful for that. <</if>>\ <<button "Time to purchase" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Blink + Shine 9">><</button>>

<<set $temp2 to true>>\ As you step into Blink + Shine, it's like crossing an invisible border into a parallel dimension—one where everything is soft, glowy, and smells faintly like peach gummies. The lighting is gentle and warm, like its designed to make you feel pretty just for existing. Even the floor seems to muffle your footsteps, like the store is trying not to startle you. Everywhere you look, there are racks of neatly spaced chiffon blouses, high-waisted trousers in pastel shades, ruffled skirts, and gauzy cardigans. Samantha comes to a halt two steps behind you, arms crossed, jaw already tense. @@.samantha;"Oh, great,"@@ she says flatly, voice dripping with sarcasm. @@.samantha;"We've entered the afterlife. It's... pink. I hate it."@@ You glance back at her. @@.player;"It's not that bad."@@ @@.samantha;"No, $name. This isn't a store,"@@ she says, scanning the frilly displays with narrowed eyes. @@.samantha;"This is a place where they turn chiffon into clothes for girls who want to look delicate and artsy."@@ Jessica steps lightly past both of you, her eyes sweeping the store with an air of familiarity. @@.jessica;"No need to be so dramatic. Blink + Shine's... fine,"@@ she says with an easy shrug. @@.jessica;"Not NovaTrend good, but fine. Like a solid B-tier. I've gotten a couple of cute pieces here."@@ @@.samantha;"B-tier?"@@ Samantha scoffs. @@.samantha;"It's not even on the list. Negative tier or something. There isn't a single hoodie in this whole place. That's a war crime."@@ Jessica doesn't even look at her, already browsing a rack of pale yellow sundresses. @@.jessica;"That's because this isn't a hoodie kind of store. Not everything has to look like you're about to go loiter in a parking lot."@@ @@.samantha;"Loitering has aesthetic value,"@@ Samantha shoots back. You snort, unable to help it. @@.player;"Do you two need me to get popcorn, or...?"@@ Jessica waves a hand dismissively. @@.jessica;"This isn't a fight. I'm just saying it's nice for what it is. You just have to know what you're looking for."@@ Samantha mutters, @@.samantha;"Yeah, what I'm looking for is the exit."@@ @@.jessica;"Oh, come on,"@@ Jessica says with a smirk. @@.jessica;"You act like just touching a blouse is going to kill you."@@ @@.samantha;"Not kill me,"@@ Samantha replies, leaning closer to a particularly frilly display of ruffled blouses and narrowing her eyes. @@.samantha;"But I'm pretty sure this one would insult me in French."@@ @@.player;"I mean, maybe it'd be right,"@@ you mutter under your breath. Samantha points at you without looking away from the blouse. @@.samantha;"You're dangerously close to getting abandoned in here."@@ You step a little farther into the score, scanning the walls until something catches your eye—a softly glowing wall of accessories near the back, glimmering under the perfect lighting. Rows of earrings shaped like tiny stars, layered necklaces, glossy hair clips, and more. It's like its inviting you to look closer. @@.player;"I might go check out the accessory wall,"@@ you say, gesturing toward it. Jessica follows your line of sight and nods. @@.jessica;"Good choice. Honestly, their accessories are usually better than their clothes."@@ @@.samantha;"Great,"@@ Samantha sighs dramatically. @@.samantha;"We've reached the phase of the trip where $name gets distracted by shiny things. Classic."@@ You glance back at her. @@.player;"You don't have to come with me, you know."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, I'm coming,"@@ Samantha says quickly. @@.samantha;"Someone's gotta supervise you. Make sure you don't walk out of here with a bedazzled belt or something. I promised to help you shop, and I take my promises very seriously."@@ @@.jessica;"Sam, if he walks out with a bedazzled belt, that's between him and his new personality,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Let him explore."@@ @@.samantha;"Explore,"@@ Samantha repeats, skeptically. @@.samantha;"That's what we're calling it now."@@ You roll your eyes, but you can't help smiling as you start toward the accessories section in the back. @@.samantha;"I swear to God, if anything in this corner tries to sparkle at me, I'm leaving you here to fend for yourself,"@@ Samantha mutters. You crack a grin, but your eyes linger on the wall. Maybe you'll go take a look. Or maybe you won't. <<button "Head toward the accessories" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Blink + Shine 1">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine" "Head toward the accessories" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide to leave the store" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Blink + Shine 1">>\<<set $d18stayblinkshine to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_stayblinkshine" "Decide to leave the store" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/mall.png"> ''ShatterBox'' has dark walls, racks of fishnets, studded belts, combat boots, and merchandise from bands you don't even recognize. Mesh sleeves and eyeliner are practically required. ''Blink + Shine'' is so sparkly it's practically vibrating. Hair clips, lip gloss, and enamel pins shaped like raccoons are on display. ''StepUp Footwear'', a staple of the Crestview Bay mall, has so many shoes it nearly makes you dizzy. ''Cuddle Creations'' is a store that has just about every plushie you can imagine. <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Choice">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<if $temp1 is false>>\ <<button "Head to ShatterBox" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica ShatterBox">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp2 is false>>\ <<button "Head to Blink + Shine" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Blink + Shine">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp4 is false>>\ <<button "Head to StepUp Footwear" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica StepUp">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp5 is false>>\ <<button "Head to Cuddle Creations" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Cuddle Creations">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Head to the changing rooms" "Closet">><</button>> <<if $temp1 is true and $temp2 is true and $temp4 is true and $temp5>>\ <<button "Shopping done!" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 17">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d18samjessplushieq is 0>>\ @@.player;"What's the weirdest stuffed animal you've ever owned?"@@ you ask Samantha. Her face lights up. @@.samantha;"Ohh, you are //not// ready for that answer."@@ @@.jessica;"Why do I feel like this is going to be horrifying?"@@ Jessica asks, looking over with mild curiosity. @@.samantha;"Because you're smart,"@@ Samantha says cheerfully, leaning against a shelf. @@.samantha;"Okay, picture this: I was, like, twelve. I had a whole pile of stuffed animals I'd outgrown, but for some reason, I couldn't let go of them. So, in my brilliant tween brain, I decided I'd... uh... 'upgrade' them."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Upgrade them? What does that even mean?"@@ @@.jessica;"This sounds like something you should've been supervised for,"@@ Jessica says, already suspicious. Samantha grins, unrepentant. @@.samantha;"It means I grabbed a hot glue gun, some old safety scissors, and went full Dr. Frankenstein. I stitched the head of this really janky bear onto the body of a rainbow giraffe, then glued on the wings of a bat. Oh! I took the tail from a different stuffed animal and stuck it on, too. Instant custom plushie."@@ You just stare at her. . @@.player;"You //glued// a bat's wings to a bear-giraffe hybrid."@@ She nods proudly. @@.samantha;"And gave it a tail! Can't forget the tail."@@ Jessica makes a face like she's trying very hard not to imagine it. @@.jessica;"That's... deeply unsettling. Why would you even do that?"@@ @@.samantha;"Creative expression, of course,"@@ Samantha says simply. @@.samantha;"It was art."@@ @@.player;"Was it though?"@@ you ask, not knowing whether to be amused or horrified. @@.samantha;"Absolutely,"@@ she says, nodding like this is an irrefutable fact. @@.samantha;"It was the most original thing in my room. I even named it Fuzzles."@@ Jessica blinks. @@.jessica;"You named it?"@@ @@.samantha;"Fuzzles,"@@ Samantha repeats, unbothered. @@.samantha;"I gave him a backstory, too. He was an ancient chimera cursed to live in my closet, but also liked watching cartoons. Very complex character development."@@ You exchange a glance with Jessica, who looks like she's teetering between laughing and calling a therapist on Samantha's behalf. @@.jessica;"That's certainly one way to cope with growing up,"@@ Jessica says. @@.player;"You're actually kind of scary,"@@ you murmur. Samantha beams, completely unoffended. @@.samantha;"Thank you. Fuzzles would've loved to meet you guys."@@ Jessica shakes her head with a quiet laugh. @@.jessica;"I think Fuzzles should stay in the past where he belongs."@@ @@.player;"Agreed,"@@ you say, nodding solemnly. @@.player;"Never speak of Fuzzles again."@@ @@.samantha;"Past? What?"@@ Samantha asks, blinking. @@.samantha;"No. Fuzzles is still on my bookshelf. Front and center. He guards my manga collection."@@ You stare. @@.player;"You //still// have it?"@@ @@.samantha;"Of course I do,"@@ she says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. @@.samantha;"You don't just get rid of Fuzzles. He's part of the household now. My mom dusts him."@@ @@.jessica;"Your mom enables this?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.samantha;"She enables greatness,"@@ Samantha corrects. @@.samantha;"I think you guys are just jealous you don't have a chimera watching over you."@@ @@.player;"Or maybe we're just jealous of your ability to sleep in a room with that thing."@@ @@.samantha;"Fuzzles has never hurt anyone,"@@ Samantha says, narrowing her eyes. @@.samantha;"Yet."@@ Jessica just groans. <<elseif $d18samjessplushieq is 1>>\ @@.player;"Would you even get one of these?"@@ you ask Samantha. @@.player;"Like... would you ever actually buy a plushie? Or would it have to be ironic for you to justify it?"@@ @@.samantha;"Hmm..."@@ Samantha hums, crossing her arms. @@.samantha;"Probably ironic. I mean, I'm not //really// a plushie person. They're cute and all, but if I'm dropping money on something, it's gonna be a hoodie, not a plush."@@ Jessica laughs softly. @@.jessica;"So what would make you actually buy one?"@@ @@.samantha;"Easy,"@@ Samantha says, smirking. @@.samantha;"It'd have to be ugly. Like, ''really'' ugly."@@ @@.player;"Ugly how?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"Like 'not as cute as the others' ugly or 'what ever dream spawned this' ugly?"@@ @@.samantha;"Hmm, something like 'grandma accidentally crocheted a nightmare'"@@ Samantha replies, very serious. @@.samantha;"If it's so ugly that I can't tell if it's a frog, a dog, or a piece of broccoli, then yeah, I'd probably buy it. For the comedy value."@@ Jessica shakes her head, grinning. @@.jessica;"So it has to be... offensively ugly. Not just a little quirky."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly."@@ Samantha gestures toward a shelf of perfectly adorable teddy bears. @@.samantha;"These? Too safe. Too cute. Boring. I want a plushie that looks like it's lived through three wars and maybe a house fire. I want one that makes people stop and ask why anyone would own this. That's worth twenty bucks."@@ Jessica hugs a cinnamon-roll-shaped cat plush closer to her chest like she's protecting it. @@.jessica;"You're unhinged,"@@ she says, though there's no real bite to it. @@.jessica;"These are supposed to be cute and comforting. Not... nightmare fuel."@@ @@.samantha;"That's what makes it //funny//,"@@ Samantha fires back. @@.samantha;"Besides, if it's ugly enough, no one's gonna steal it. Ultimate security plushie."@@ You laugh, shaking your head. @@.player;"You know, you say that like you've actually thought this through."@@ @@.samantha;"I have,"@@ she says, deadpan. @@.samantha;"If I find the ugliest one in the store, I'm buying it. No regrets."@@ Jessica looks at you. @@.jessica;"If she walks out of here with something that looks like roadkill, that's on you for asking."@@ You glance back at Samantha, who's already scanning the shelves with new determination. And honestly? You're a little scared she's serious. <<elseif $d18samjessplushieq is 2>>\ You glance at Jessica. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, grabbing her attention. @@.player;"Which one of these would actually fit your room aesthetic? Like, if you had to pick one."@@ Jessica doesn't answer right away. She stands and smooths the front of her top like she's preparing for a very serious question. @@.jessica;"My walls are light yellow,"@@ she says finally, thoughtfully tapping her chin. @@.jessica;"So... probably a duck. A really cute one. Something small enough to sit on my nightstand or my pillow without looking out of place."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah, a duck makes sense. To be honest, you kind of give off 'likes cute ducks' energy."@@ Jessica laughs softly. @@.jessica;"That's the weirdest compliment I've ever gotten, but I'll take it."@@ Samantha perks up immediately. @@.samantha;"Ducks are great,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"I like watching them fight over bread at the park."@@ @@.jessica;"You //what//?"@@ Jessica asks, her face twisting in mild horror. @@.samantha;"Not, like, on purpose,"@@ Samantha clarifies, though she's clearly amused. @@.samantha;"I just feed them and watch nature take its course. May the greatest duck win."@@ Jessica gasps. @@.jessica;"That's mean!"@@ You glance between them, trying not to laugh. @@.player;"It's also kind of natural selection, though? Like survival of the fittest duck."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly!"@@ Samantha points at you like you just validated her entire life philosophy. @@.samantha;"Thank you. It's duck Thunderdome, and I'm just the bread lady."@@ @@.jessica;"You're both terrible,"@@ Jessica says, hugging a plushie to her chest. @@.jessica;"Ducks are sweet, gentle creatures. They deserve peace."@@ @@.samantha;"They also deserve to work for their carbs,"@@ Samantha shoots back, smirking. @@.samantha;"Listen, I don't make the rules. I just make sure the bread is evenly distributed."@@ @@.player;"That's not how you described it a minute ago,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"You said you like making them fight."@@ @@.samantha;"Details,"@@ Samantha says with a dismissive wave. Jessica shakes her head, smiling despite herself. @@.jessica;"I can't believe I'm talking with people who treat ducks like gladiators."@@ @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you chime in, holding up a stuffed duck from a nearby shelf and giving it a gentle squeeze. @@.player;"At least this one's safe. No bread battles for this guy."@@ Jessica smiles, reaching over to take the plush from you. @@.jessica;"Exactly. I'll protect you for a few minutes, little duck. Zero duck trauma allowed."@@ @@.samantha;"Lame,"@@ Samantha comments, a smirk on her face. @@.samantha;"He'd probably lose in the arena anyway."@@ Jessica hugs the duck plush to her chest protectively. @@.jessica;"Over my dead body."@@ You watch them bicker, shaking your head. @@.player;"We're in Cuddle Creations, and somehow you two still turned it into a bloodsport debate."@@ @@.samantha;"May the greatest duck win,"@@ Samantha repeats, deadpan. Jessica just rolls her eyes and whispers to the duck, @@.jessica;"Don't listen to her."@@ You're starting to think you need popcorn for this. <</if>>\ <<button "Pick a plushie" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Cuddle Creations 2">><</button>>

<<set $textbox to true>>\ <<if $d18plushchoice is false>>\ <<set $textbox to false>>\ You hold the bee in your hands a second longer than you mean to. It's soft in that perfect, squishy way—firm enough to hug back, but yielding like it's already memorized the shape of your arms. Its stitched little eyes are slightly uneven, one antenna bent just a bit more than the other. It looks up at you like it's waiting. Like it knows it might be chosen. Like it's ready to go home with you and never ask why it took this long. You run your thumb along its plush belly once. Twice. Then set it down. Carefully. Like you're apologizing. Jessica notices the motion first. Her head tilts, her expression softening. @@.jessica;"Oh,"@@ she says quietly. @@.jessica;"You're... not getting one?"@@ @@.player;"Nah,"@@ you say, trying for casual. @@.player;"I don't need it."@@ The words fall out heavier than you expect—too final, like the sound of a door closing. Samantha raises her brows. @@.samantha;"Seriously? After all that dramatic soul-searching back there?"@@ @@.player;"I wasn't soul-searching."@@ @@.samantha;"Dude."@@ Samantha gestures broadly at you. @@.samantha;"You stared at these like they were your long-lost siblings. That was absolutely soul-searching."@@ @@.jessica;"What's stopping you?"@@ Jessica asks, gentle in a way that makes it clear she isn't teasing. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"I don't need it."@@ @@.jessica;"Sometimes 'want' is enough,"@@ Jessica states. @@.jessica;"It doesn't //have// to be practical. it can just make you happy."@@ You ignore her words, yet you end up glancing back once. The bee is still there—slumped a little to the side, wings folded like it got tired waiting. One of the sunflowers beside it leans just enough to cast a soft shadow across its face. It shouldn't feel like rejection. It shouldn't feel like anything. But it does. And it's not just the bee. You pass the goat again—the one with the off-kilter grin and tiny felt hooves that looked like it belonged in detention for crimes committed against homework and table legs. It was still sitting exactly where you left it. Like it didn't move. Like it didn't hope. The meerkat, too—long-limbed and nervy, face frozen in that perfect anxiety-ridden panic. It looked like it wanted to whisper something to you. Something quiet. Something like, "Take me with you. Please. Just me." And you left them all behind. You look down at your empty hands. Your chest feels a little too hollow for how crowded the store is. Samantha moves to your side, arms crossed loosely, but there's no smirk on her face this time. @@.samantha;"You know, you've had to carry a lot lately,"@@ she says, softer now. @@.samantha;"Like, actual stuff. Emotional junk. Body changes. Existential weirdness. You've been juggling identity like it's part of your class schedule."@@ She nudges your arm lightly. @@.samantha;"You could've let a cute plushie carry one percent of that. Maybe just for tonight."@@ You don't respond. Because you know she's right. And also because it's already too late. You're already turning, already walking toward the exit. Already letting the soft warm air of Cuddle Creations fall behind you like a missed opportunity. Your hands are empty, and that hurts. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Choice">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 0>>\ <<set $goatplush to true>>\ <<set $goatplushieName = "Bartholomew">>\ You cradle the goat plushie in your arms, his stubby little hooves resting against your top like it's making itself at home. He's soft in the way old blankets are soft—slightly worn, warm in places he shouldn't be, and kind of judgmental. His lopsided grin stares up at you with unapologetic smugness. Like he knows he's getting adopted and thinks it's about time. The felt horns curve unevenly on his head, and one of his ears flops out stubbornly, as if refusing to participate in society. You squeeze it lightly, and something in your chest settles. It's not even a question. He's coming with you. @@.jessica;"Oh my God,"@@ she says, tilting her head at him. @@.jessica;"That goat has a certain energy. How do I describe it..."@@ @@.player;"He's got strong 'public menace' energy, yeah,"@@ you say, glancing down at his crooked little face. @@.jessica;"No, he's worse than that,"@@ Jessica says, laughing. @@.jessica;"He's got that 'does illegal stuff in public libraries' energy."@@ Samantha steps up beside you, tilting her head at the goat. @@.samantha;"You are absolutely adopting a scam artist, $name."@@ You glance between the two of them and hug the goat a little closer. @@.player;"I don't care. He's perfect."@@ @@.jessica;"Perfect?"@@ Jessica asks, raising a brow. @@.jessica;"He looks like he eats paper for fun."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, and then blames you for leaving it out,"@@ Samantha adds. You smirk and start heading to the register. @@.player;"Sounds like my kind of guy."@@ A store clerk with glittery nails lights up the second they see what you're holding. You make your way to the counter, goat in tow, and are immediately greeted by a cheerful employee wearing glittery nail polish and a name tag that reads Jenn. @@.girl;"Oh my God!"@@ Jenn exclaims, lighting up the moment she sees your choice. @@.girl;"You picked Grumble Goat! That one's part of our limited run. We call him Grumble because he always looks like he's about to cancel a company meeting with zero notice."@@ You look down at the goat's perma-frown and nod. @@.player;"Yeah. That tracks."@@ Jenn begins scanning the tag, then gestures toward a pastel kiosk nearby. @@.girl;"And now you get to do the best part—name him! It prints out a little adoption certificate. Official and everything."@@ You blink at the screen. @@.player;"You're serious?"@@ @@.girl;"Oh yeah,"@@ Jenn says brightly. @@.girl;"Once it's printed, it's canon."@@ @@.samantha;"I hope you're ready for this level of responsibility,"@@ Samantha mutters from beside you. @@.samantha;"You're basically becoming a single parent."@@ @@.player;"I'm not naming him Steve,"@@ you warn. Jessica snickers. @@.jessica;"You absolutely can't name him Steve. Look at his face. He needs something dramatic."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, he does,"@@ Samantha says. She taps her chin, mock thoughtful. @@.samantha;"Hmm. Baron Von Paperchewer. Or maybe... Sir Misbehaves-a-Lot."@@ You stare. @@.samantha;"What?"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"You brought this upon yourself."@@ Jessica grins and gestures at the kiosk. @@.jessica;"Go on, $name. Give him a name worthy of all this chaos."@@ You look back at the goat. His dumb, perfect face dares you to commit. To make it official. You reach for the keyboard. <<textbox "$goatplushieName" "Bartholomew">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 1>>\ <<set $meerkatplush to true>>\ <<set $meerkatplushieName = "Nibbles">>\ You hold the little meerkat plushie in your hands, its paws curled nervously to its chest, stitched eyes wide like it's constantly apologizing for something it didn't even do. It's the kind of expression that says "I'm just happy to be here, but also deeply stressed about it." Something in you softens. You don't know why, but you feel like you get this thing. Or maybe, it gets you. Jessica steps up beside you with a curious hum. @@.jessica;"Oh, wow,"@@ she says, leaning down to get a closer look. @@.jessica;"That one's... kind of adorable, actually. Like he just apologized for bumping into you."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, huffing a laugh. @@.player;"He definitely has that kind of energy where he feels sorry just for existing."@@ Samantha drifts up beside you, peering at the meerkat like she's sizing it up for crimes. @@.samantha;"Oh no,"@@ she says flatly. @@.samantha;"That little guy's definitely been emotionally devastated by having to talk to others."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"He looks like he triple-checks his text messages before sending 'k.'"@@ Jessica snickers. @@.jessica;"Honestly? He does."@@ Samantha nods solemnly. @@.samantha;"He's in a permanent state of rehearsing fake conversations for real interactions."@@ @@.player;"He'd panic over picking a snack and then just get the same one he always does,"@@ you say, cradling the plushie a little closer. @@.samantha;"That's depressingly accurate,"@@ she says, and then adds, @@.samantha;"I like him."@@ @@.player;"You like him because he's neurotic."@@ @@.samantha;"No,"@@ Samantha says, leaning in to boop the meerkat's nose. @@.samantha;"I like him because he's neurotic ''and'' loyal."@@ Jessica tilts her head thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"Okay, but that's kind of sweet. Like he's anxious, sure, but he's trying his best. There's something really lovable about that."@@ Her words stick with you for a second, and you hug the meerkat a little tighter. Somehow, he feels less like a random plush and more like a small reflection of a part of you. You carry him gently to the front counter. The cashier spots you and lights up immediately. @@.girl;"Ooh, someone picked a PeekPal!"@@ she says, grinning wide. Her name tag—Jenn—glitters under the warm lights. @@.player;"A Peek-what?"@@ you ask. Jenn turns the meerkat slightly, revealing a small woven tag near its hind leg: ''PeekPal Series — For The Quiet Kind of Brave.'' @@.girl;"They're part of a new line,"@@ Jenn explains as she scans the barcode. @@.girl;"Designed for people who overthink everything but still show up for the people they care about."@@ You blink down at the meerkat. You think of the way he seemed to hide behind the other plushies, how his brow was slightly furrowed in stitched worry, how he felt just right when you picked him up. That familiar kind of anxious hopefulness you yourself have felt too many times before. @@.samantha;"He looks like he's emotionally exhausted but refuses to go to bed,"@@ Samantha mutters beside you. Jenn giggles. @@.girl;"Exactly! He's from the 'Cautious but Courageous' set."@@ She gestures to a glowing kiosk off to the side. @@.girl;"Anyway, you can make it official over there. Comes with a certificate and everything. You're basically adopting a tiny plushie full of anxiety and love."@@ You cradle the meerkat a little tighter. His fur's soft against your fingertips, and somehow, just being in your arms makes him seem a little less on edge. Samantha watches you for a second, then says, @@.samantha;"Just make sure you pick a name that won't give him a full identity crisis, okay?"@@ @@.player;"No promises,"@@ you murmur. The kiosk pulses gently, the screen lit in soft pastels. ''Name Your PeekPal'' flashes across the top. @@.jessica;"He kind of looks like a Maurice to me,"@@ Jessica mutters, inspecting your meerkat carefully. @@.jessica;"Or maybe a Benedict. Something proper and unnecessarily anxious."@@ You take one last glance down at your new nervous friend, who stares back with that same uncertain but hopeful gaze. You don't answer. You just smile and start typing. <<textbox "$meerkatplushieName" "Nibbles">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 2>>\ <<set $beeplush to true>>\ <<set $beeplushieName = "Bumbles">>\ The bee plushie's still where you left it—perched between two felt sunflowers like it's posing for a yearbook photo it didn't know would be permanent. Its fuzzy yellow belly practically glows under the warm lighting, stubby little legs poking out like it's bracing for impact. The soft felt wings wobble as you pick it up again, and its stitched-on smile somehow manages to look both enthusiastic and deeply uncertain. You don't even hesitate. You reach for him like it's already yours. Something about it just clicks. He's not the biggest, or the fluffiest, or even the most detailed. But he fits perfectly into your hands. Just firm enough to squish without losing shape. Just fuzzy enough to comfort without clinging. You press his little belly and imagine him sitting on your shelf, cheering you on in his tiny, high-pitched bee voice every time you sit down to work or panic about life. Jessica steps up beside you, leaning over slightly to get a good look at him. @@.jessica;"Aww, he's cute,"@@ she says, her tone softer than usual. @@.jessica;"Kind of like one of those relentlessly positive friends."@@ Samantha snorts, folding her arms as she stares down at him. @@.samantha;"No. That thing has the face of a bee who's been in a team-building seminar for five minutes and already deeply regrets all his life choices."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"I mean... yeah. But he'd still hand out the icebreaker cards."@@ She flicks one of the bee's felt wings gently. @@.samantha;"He's definitely the guy who says, 'I think we're all doing great!' while dying inside."@@ Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"That's kind of adorable, though. Like he's struggling but still trying to make everyone else feel better. He's basically a mascot for emotional resilience."@@ @@.player;"He's doing his best,"@@ you say, holding him closer. @@.samantha;"Which makes two of you,"@@ Samantha says, grinning. Jessica tilts her head. @@.jessica;"Honestly? He kind of suits you. He's got that look where it seems like he's trying so hard even when it's hard to try."@@ You gently squeeze the bee one more time, and there's something satisfying about how he bounces back—like he's always going to try, even when he's overwhelmed. Maybe especially then. At the counter, Jenn—a bright-eyed employee with a glittery name tag—lights up the moment she sees what you're holding. @@.girl;"Ohh! BuzzBuddy alert!"@@ she exclaims. @@.girl;"I love those guys."@@ You blink. @@.player;"That's a real category?"@@ @@.girl;"Yep! Part of our Support Squad line,"@@ Jenn says, already reaching for the scanner. @@.girl;"BuzzBuddies are for folks who try real hard, spiral a little, and still show up anyway."@@ Samantha leans in and nods like she's judging a wine. @@.samantha;"A bold choice. Strong notes of people-pleasing and barely contained anxiety."@@ Jenn finishes scanning the tag and then gestures toward the kiosk. @@.girl;"Alright! Time for the best part—his name. Gotta make it official."@@ The screen glows a soft honey yellow, little sparkles drifting behind the blinking cursor. The prompt reads: ''Name Your BuzzBuddy.'' You walk over, cradling the bee in your arm. He stares up at the screen with his stitched-on smile like he's about to encourage you to do your best. Samantha peeks over your shoulder. @@.samantha;"What if you named him something absurd?"@@ You snort. @@.player;"I think he deserves better than that."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, I agree,"@@ she says, nudging you lightly with her elbow. @@.samantha;"But you know he'd answer to literally anything if you said it with confidence."@@ You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face won't go away. Jessica nudges your arm lightly. @@.jessica;"Make it something fitting. He looks like the kind of bee who really needs a good name."@@ Your fingers hover over the screen. He's waiting. <<textbox "$beeplushieName" "Bumbles">> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Cuddle Creations 4">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $textbox to false>>\ <<set $money -= 20>>\ <<if $d18plushchoice is 0>>\ You stand before the kiosk, fingers hovering just above the touchscreen. The goat plushie is nestled in your arm, smug little face tilted like it's already judging your typing skills. You take a breath, then start typing. The name lights up on the screen: $goatplushieName. A chime dings, and animated goat confetti bursts across the display—little cartoon hooves and horns in exaggerated majesty. You crack a smile, a real one. It's ridiculous. But also kind of perfect. @@.jessica;"$goatplushieName,"@@ Jessica repeats, drawing it out like she's testing the weight of it. Then she nods. @@.jessica;"Okay. I can respect that. Feels... regal. Like he should come with his own crown."@@ @@.samantha;"Regal?"@@ Samantha scoffs, arms crossed. @@.samantha;"No, no no. This goat isn't regal. This goat is absolutely a middle manager who steals pens and lies about his time sheets. Look at that face."@@ You glance back at her. @@.player;"$goatplushieName has gravitas."@@ @@.samantha;"He has a rap sheet,"@@ Samantha shoots back. Before you can respond, Jenn leans forward with theatrical flair. @@.girl;"$goatplushieName! Lovely choice. Mischievous. Mysterious. A little chaotic. We love to see it."@@ She hits a few buttons, and the screen spins around to face you again. On it, in a playful font: ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $goatplushieName!'' A digital badge appears beneath it that says "Certified Goofball." You snort. @@.jessica;"Yeah. That tracks,"@@ Jessica says, laughing softly. @@.jessica;"He's definitely a goofy little guy."@@ @@.samantha;"Can I get one of those for you, $name?"@@ Samantha asks. @@.samantha;"Put Certified Goofball right on your student ID."@@ Jenn gestures toward a soft pastel podium with a build-in printer, and a gentle hum begins. A small certificate emerges from the slot, printed on cream-colored cardstock with a faint shimmer. Jenn presents it like its sacred. @@.girl;"One official Certificate of Adoption."@@ You take it carefully and read: ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $goatplushieName, a Goat of Great Personality and Questionable Impulse Control, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. May your hugs be strong, your snacks be shared, and your secrets be safe. Samantha reads over your shoulder. @@.samantha;"Wow. I didn't know the goat came with a legal document binding you to emotional intimacy."@@ You gently slip the certificate into the tote Jenn hands over—white canvas with a little sleeping moon curled around a teddy bear stitched on the front. Jenn carefully tucks $goatplushieName in with soft tissue, making sure his horns don't get squished. @@.girl;"Take good care of him,"@@ she says, lowering her voice a little like it's a secret. @@.girl;"He's one of our favorite troublemakers."@@ @@.player;"Don't worry about that,"@@ you say, hugging the bag to your chest. @@.player;"I'll take the very best care of him."@@ @@.jessica;"Congrats,"@@ Jessica says warmly as the three of you head toward the exit. @@.jessica;"He's gonna be a bold addition to your life."@@ You glance down at the tote, $goatplushieName's crooked grin peeking through the folds. And as the three of you walk back into the heart of the mall, you feel it—light, stupid, warm—like you really did just make space for something that matters. Even if it's just a very questionable goat. <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 1>>\ You take a breath. Not because it's hard—but because something about this feels... permanent. Or at least important in a way you don't want to mess up. Your fingers hover over the pastel keyboard. You type the letters one by one. $meerkatplushieName. The kiosk dings like it's proud of you. Yellowish confetti bursts across the screen with cartoon flair, and a nervous little animated meerkat peeks out from behind a digital cactus, blinking up at you like he's just now realizing he exists. @@.jessica;"Oh my God,"@@ Jessica says, a laugh slipping out before she can stop it. @@.jessica;"That's actually... perfect. He does look like a $meerkatplushieName."@@ Samantha groans, but the smirk on her face betrays her. @@.samantha;"Ugh, that's so disgustingly wholesome it's giving me cavities. I was hoping for something like... I don't know. Chaos incarnate. But fine, $meerkatplushieName works."@@ Jenn leans in dramatically. @@.girl;"$meerkatplushieName,"@@ she whispers like it's a secret spell. @@.girl;"That name fits. Not that I'm allowed to say anything legally binding, but—he looks like he journals."@@ You glance down at the plushie in your hands. His soft little body presses into your chest like he's trying to be smaller than it is. You smile before you even know you're doing it. Jenn taps a few more keys and spins the screen around. ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $meerkatplushieName!'' A digital badge appears beneath it that says "Overthinker, Hug Magnet, Snack Enthusiast." Jessica tilts her head, reading it aloud. @@.jessica;"Snack enthusiast? Yeah, that tracks. He definitely looks like the kind of guy who stress-eats cookies at 2 in the morning."@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"You're right. He'd be eating saltines out of the box."@@ Jenn gestures to a small podium where a soft hum is already whirring from the printer. @@.girl;"Let's make it official."@@ A certificate slides out on cream-colored paper, slightly textured and—somehow—scented faintly like vanilla frosting. Jenn lifts it reverently, holding it out like it's a diploma. You take it gently. ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $meerkatplushieName, a proud member of the PeekPal Series, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. Though he lives in constant fear of loud noises and minor inconveniences, he will show up, be brave, and offer his tiny paws anyway. Provide snacks often. Encouragement always. You try not to laugh. But something about it makes your chest warm. It's like this moment knows exactly what it's doing. @@.jessica;"That's actually so sweet,"@@ Jessica says, smiling as she reads. @@.jessica;"Kind of feels like a pep talk for the both of you."@@ Samantha leans over your shoulder, reading aloud in a whisper, @@.samantha;"Offer his tiny paws anyway..."@@ Then she pauses and grins. @@.samantha;"This little guy's going to destroy you emotionally, isn't he?"@@ Jenn wraps the meerkat in soft yellow tissue, careful not to bend the ears. She seals it with a round sticker that reads: "He's safe now." Then she tucks him into a tote bag printed with the Cuddle Creations logo—an adorable bear sleeping inside a crescent moon. As she hands the bag over, Jenn smiles and leans in slightly. @@.girl;"He's the kind that needs a lot of reassurance. But something tells me you've got that covered."@@ Samantha grabs the handles before you can, then lifts the bag between you like she's weighing it. @@.samantha;"This thing's radiating codependent energy. You two are gonna get along great."@@ You carefully slide the certificate into the tote, smoothing the corners so it doesn't crumple. Then the three of you step out of the store—back into the mall's warm lights and distant chatter. Samantha glances sideways at you as you walk. @@.samantha;"$meerkatplushieName?"@@ she says, in mock disbelief. @@.samantha;"Really?"@@ You nod once, still smiling. @@.samantha;"Eh. I guess it fits,"@@ Samantha says, shrugging. @@.samantha;"Well, I guess congratulations are in order. You're not a proud parent to a stress ball with eyes."@@ And with that, the two of you melt into the flow of the crowd, a plushie tucked under your arm and something softer settling in your chest. <<elseif $d18plushchoice is 2>>\ You take a breath and rest your fingers on the screen, just for a second, letting the moment sit. Then you start to type: ''$beeplushieName''. The kiosk responds with a cheerful ding, and suddenly the display bursts to life. Animated bees zip across the screen in loops, tiny sparkles trailing behind them. One smacks into a cartoon daisy and does a slow-motion spin before wobbling upright again. It's all so charmingly over-the-top that you can't help but smile. Jenn lets out a delighted gasp. @@.girl;"$beeplushieName! Ugh, that is //so// sweet I think I just got a cavity,"@@ she says, practically bouncing on her heels. Samantha, peeking over your shoulder, rolls her eyes but doesn't bother hiding her grin. @@.samantha;"I mean, it's //something//,"@@ she teases. @@.jessica;"It's a good name,"@@ Jessica says. She leans down and whispers to your plushie. @@.jessica;"You have a good name. Don't let Samantha tell you otherwise."@@ You glance down at the bee, still nestled in the crook of your arm. He looks completely unbothered. Loyal. Cheerful. Probably humming a motivational jingle in his head. Jenn gives a few final taps, and then swivels the screen around dramatically. ''Welcome to the Cuddle Creations Family, $beeplushieName!'' A digital badge appears underneath: "Certified Encouragement Specialist – Level 1 Buzz" Samantha leans in. @@.samantha;"Level one? Wow. So humble. He's just here to buzz supportively while the world burns."@@ You snort, clutching the plushie a little closer. Jenn beams. @@.girl;"Okay, time to make it official!"@@ She leads the two of you over to a curved little podium where a soft whirring starts. The printer behind it buzzes quietly, then gently slides out a creamy slip of thick, textured paper with gold lettering and a delicate floral trim. Jessica picks it up before you can, holding it delicately like it's fragile. @@.jessica;"Wow,"@@ she says, eyes scanning it before handing it to you. @@.jessica;"It's like... actually official."@@ You read it over: ''Certificate of Adoption'' This certifies that $beeplushieName, proud member of the BuzzBuddy Support Squad, has been lovingly adopted by $name on this day. Though he is often overwhelmed and mildly vibrating with panic, he will always try his best, encourage those around him, and commit to emotional support with great enthusiasm. Buzz responsibly. You stare at it for a second longer than expected. There's something about it that lands differently. Something warm and ridiculous and a little bit real. Samantha peers over your arm. @@.samantha;"Okay, it's rude how that actually got to me. Why is a fake bee giving me emotions?"@@ Jenn is already wrapping the plushie in soft yellow tissue paper dotted with little white daisies. She nestles him gently into a sky-blue Cuddle Creations tote bag, its front stamped with a sleepy moon curled around a bear. She nudges the bag forward with a wink. @@.girl;"Take good care of him. He's got a lot of feelings and no idea where to put them."@@ Samantha folds her arms, watching you slip the certificate into the tote. @@.samantha;"So, like you, then."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"He's way more optimistic than I am."@@ @@.samantha;"You know what?"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"That's true."@@ Jessica chuckles. @@.jessica;"I like this bee. It feels like you."@@ @@.player;"It just felt right,"@@ you say, shrugging lightly. And together, you walk out, the buzz of the mall wrapping around you again—$beeplushieName safely tucked under your arm, like he was always meant to be there. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp5 to true>>\ You step into Cuddle Creations, and the rest of the mall might as well not exist anymore. The air changes immediately—warmer and softer, like walking into a memory of your childhood bedroom. The lighting is warm and glowy, bouncing off clouds and stars hand-painted on the ceiling in swirling pastel blues and purples. Shelves curve like waves around the store, packed to the brim with plushies: bears, bunnies, bees, dragons, dinosaurs, cats shaped like croissants, sharks with sneakers on, frogs wearing crowns. There's no real order—just magic. Jessica stops in the middle of the store, taking it all in with wide eyes. @@.jessica;"This place is ridiculous,"@@ she says, voice hushed like she's in a church. @@.jessica;"In the best way, of course."@@ @@.samantha;"You mean aggressively cute,"@@ Samantha corrects, already wandering toward a display of plush seals with massive, bug-eyed stares. She pokes one in the belly, and it lets out a squeak. She recoils dramatically. @@.samantha;"Oh my God. They have sound effects. I hate it. I love it. I'm conflicted."@@ Jessica laughs, trailing after her. @@.jessica;"I don't know why you would hate it, that is unreasonably cute. Look at this one—oh my God."@@ She picks up a soft pink bunny and hugs it briefly before gently putting it back. You drift toward a rack stacked with tiny, palm-sized octopuses, each one reversible with a happy face on one side and an angry one on the other. You flip one inside out, then back again. @@.samantha;"See?"@@ Samantha says, snatching it from you and holding it up. @@.samantha;"Me before and after interacting with people."@@ @@.jessica;"That tracks,"@@ Jessica states, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"I kind of like it,"@@ you mutter. @@.samantha;"Of course you do,"@@ she says, putting it back gently. @@.samantha;"You would love something that looks like it hasn't known peace since 2003."@@ Jessica snorts, covering her mouth to stifle her laugh. You keep walking, letting your fingers graze across soft fabric tails and floppy ears. You can't help it—there's something grounding about the sheer //quiet joy// in the space. No one's rushing. There are kids, sure, but they're sitting on beanbags with giant frogs in their laps. One girl is whispering to what might be a smiling axolotl. You pick up a round, blobby plush from the next shelf and squeeze it gently. It gives a faint, comforting squish, like memory foam in stuffed-animal form. @@.player;"They're really soft,"@@ you murmur. @@.jessica;"Right?"@@ Jessica says, smiling. @@.jessica;"It's like they designed them to be impossible to put down."@@ @@.samantha;"If you ask me, it's scientifically engineered emotional warfare,"@@ Samantha chimes in, now pressing her face into the side of a giant walrus plushie. You turn the plush over in your hands, and for a second, the noise of the mall vanishes. The world is quiet. Just you and the shelves of stitched-up comfort. Samantha nods toward the display. @@.samantha;"Well? What's the verdict, stuffy connoisseur?"@@ she teases. You glance at her, then back at the plush you're hiding. The truth is, you kind of want to talk about it. Or maybe talk about something else, but in a roundabout way, using this silly little soft thing as a buffer. <<button "Ask Samantha what the weirdest stuffed animal she's ever owned is" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18samjessplushieq to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samjessplushieq" "Ask Samantha what the weirdest stuffed animal she's ever owned is" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask Samantha if she would get one of these ironically" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18samjessplushieq to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samjessplushieq" "Ask Samantha if she would get one of these ironically" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask Jessica which plushie would fit her room aesthetic the best" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Cuddle Creations 1">>\<<set $d18samjessplushieq to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_samjessplushieq" "Ask Jessica which plushie would fit her room aesthetic the best" "rel">><</button>>

<<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $outfit to $tempoutfit>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You take your time in the fitting room. Piece by piece, you try each item on—the cream top, the skirt, even the fancy black dress. They settle onto your frame like they were waiting. There's no awkward tugging or uncomfortable shifting. Just warmth. Just you. The skirt swishes around your legs with a light, playful motion every time you move, and the top rests gently against your chest. You do a little turn in the mirror. You don't even flinch. Instead, you smile. You //like// what you see. There's a quiet thrill in how natural it feels. How your shoulders relax, how your posture changes without even thinking. This isn't pretending. It's //discovering//. You slip back into the clothes you wore in after, slower than usual, carefully folding each item as you place it back onto the hook. Your hand lingers on the black slit skirt. You hesitate. You glance at your reflection one last time, and your heart answers before your brain catches up. ''I want this.'' You step out, cheeks warming as the soft store music greets you again. Samantha's leaning against a display table, flipping through a rack of trendy tops and looking disgusted. The second she sees you, her eyes scan your face. She blinks. Then grins. @@.samantha;"Well, damn,"@@ she says, straightening. @@.samantha;"Someone had a good time in there."@@ Jessica, standing nearby with her arms loosely crossed, beams like she's been waiting for this moment. @@.jessica;"That's the magic of NovaTrend,"@@ she says simply. @@.player;"...Yeah,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I think I actually like this."@@ Jessica laughs softly. @@.jessica;"Told you. All it takes is the right place and the right clothes."@@ You glance back at the mirror in the fitting room one last time. And for once, you don't look away. <<else>>\ The clothes fit. Technically. The sleeves aren't too tight, the skirt falls just right, and the soft tops don't cling in a weird way. You look... fine. Objectively speaking, maybe even kind of good. You can imagine someone else wearing them and pulling it off without blinking. But as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you feel a weird kind of distance building between you and your reflection. You tug on the collar on the cream top. Adjust the waistband of the skirt. Do a half-turn. It's not bad, but it doesn't feel like you. You want it to. You try. You picture how this would look in public. Maybe if your posture was different or if your head was clearer. You sigh, pressing your palms against the sides of your thighs. You're not disgusted, not upset. Just... disconnected. Like this is someone else's closet and you're just borrowing their role. You change back, fold the pieces, and pick them up. You hesitate for a second, then pull open the curtain. The light spills back in. The world resumes. Jessica is waiting, arms crossed but expectant, while Samantha is half-sitting on a low display table, pretending to be unimpressed but clearly curious. Jessica straightens immediately, her bright, supportive smile faltering. @@.jessica;"$name?"@@ she says gently, her tone careful. @@.samantha;"Yeah, no,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"That's your 'I hate every second of this' face."@@ @@.player;"It just wasn't me,"@@ you admit, the words coming out heavier than you expected. @@.player;"I don't know. I thought maybe it'd click, but it just... doesn't. It feels like I'm pretending."@@ @@.jessica;"Then it's not right,"@@ Jessica states, frowning. @@.jessica;"You're not supposed to force it."@@ Samantha nods, softer than you expect. @@.samantha;"Yeah. If it doesn't feel like you, it's not you. No point in trying to fit into someone else's vibe."@@ You nod, relieved but a little disappointed at the same time. Maybe you thought you'd walk out transformed, but instead, you just feel like a kid in borrowed clothes. <</if>>\ <<button "Is there anything to buy?" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica NovaTrend 3">><</button>>

<<if $outfitUnlock[4] isnot true and $topUnlock[14] isnot true and $topUnlock[16] isnot true and $topUnlock[18] isnot true and $topUnlock[20] isnot true and $pantsUnlock[13] isnot true and $pantsUnlock[15] isnot true>>\ You step out of NovaTrend and back into the main corridor of the mall. The door closes behind you, shutting out the scent of the store. You're back in your usual clothes, empty-handed. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ Jessica keeps pace at your side, looking at you like you've grown a second head. @@.jessica;"Wait. You're really not getting anything?"@@ she asks, bewildered. @@.jessica;"You //liked// those outfits. I saw your face. You had a moment in there."@@ You scratch the back of your neck, feeling oddly exposed under her incredulous stare. @@.player;"I did. I don't know. They were nice. Really nice."@@ You hesitate. @@.player;"But... it's expensive. Like, //really// expensive. I couldn't make myself do it."@@ Jessica groans softly, like she can't believe you just walked away from self-actualization over a price tag. @@.jessica;"$name, that's what quality costs! You felt good in those clothes. That's kind of the point."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, well,"@@ Samantha cuts in from your other side, lacing her hands behind her head with a smug grin, @@.samantha;"good news: Threadz costs half as much and comes with the added bonus of making you look like you might start a garage band. You know. Real value."@@ Jessica shoots her a look. @@.jessica;"Oh yes, truly timeless."@@ Samantha grins wider. @@.samantha;"Better than spending a week's allowance on a sweater."@@ You can't help but laugh under your breath, their back-and-forth tugging you out of your head. @@.player;"Maybe next time,"@@ you say, though you're not sure who you're trying to convince—Jessica or yourself. Even though you're walking away with nothing, part of you still feels lighter than when you walked in. <<else>>\ @@.samantha;"Didn't feel right, huh?"@@ Samantha comments. You shake your head. @@.player;"No. It really wasn't me."@@ Jessica falls into step beside you, her voice soft and easy. @@.jessica;"That's okay. You don't have to force it. Clothes are supposed to feel like you, not someone else."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly,"@@ Samantha chimes in. @@.samantha;"And honestly? That's half of what this whole thing is. Trying stuff, deciding what doesn't work, moving on. It's not a fail, it's just part of the process."@@ You glance at them, surprised by how simply they say it, like this doesn't have to be a big deal. Like it's fine to just walk away. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ The doors of NovaTrend slide shut behind you with a soft hiss and a final puff of floral-scented air. The mall greets you again with its usual overstimulating hum—brighter lights, louder voices, someone arguing on speakerphone near the store next door. You've got the shopping bag in your hand. Just one—light, matte white, with the NovaTrend logo printed in metallic foil. It rustles faintly as you walk, even though it barely weighs anything. Jessica claps her hands together like she just won a bet. @@.jessica;"See? I told you. NovaTrend is the best,"@@ she says, practically bouncing as she grabs your free arm. @@.jessica;"Look at you, $name. You're glowing. This is growth."@@ @@.player;"I don't think buying one thing makes me 'glowing.'"@@ @@.samantha;"Unbelievable. I can't believe you fell to the dark side,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"One trip in with Jessica and suddenly $name's out here buying eighty dollar pants that come with free pretension."@@ @@.player;"They weren't //that// expensive,"@@ you say quickly, then pause. @@.player;"At least, I don't think they were."@@ @@.samantha;"See? You don't even //know// how much you spent,"@@ Samantha says, pointing at you like she just uncovered evidence in a court case. @@.samantha;"That's how the cult gets you. First it's one nice top, next thing you know you're drinking iced matchas and talking about how 'minimalism changed your life.'"@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"It's literally just clothes. And I liked how it felt."@@ Jessica gives Samantha the smuggest look possible. @@.jessica;"Exactly. $name liked it. That's called having taste."@@ @@.samantha;"Or being brainwashed by clean lines and neutral tones,"@@ Samantha mutters, crossing her arms. You glance between them, exasperated but trying not to laugh. @@.player;"If this is what happens every time I buy clothes, maybe I should've just stayed in cargo shorts forever."@@ Jessica gasps in horror. @@.jessica;"Don't you //dare// even joke about that. We've come too far."@@ @@.samantha;"Fine,"@@ Samantha says, sighing heavily. @@.samantha;"But we've got to go to Threadz to cleanse your soul. You need something chaotic to balance out whatever polished nonsense you just bought."@@ @@.jessica;"Or we could keep the momentum going and actually get $name a wardrobe that doesn't scream 'I don't own a mirror.'"@@ @@.samantha;"Threadz has mirrors,"@@ Samantha fires back. @@.jessica;"Yeah, the kind covered in stickers,"@@ Jessica says sweetly. You groan, already regretting every life choice that led to this. @@.player;"Can we just move on before you two kill each other?"@@ Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"Fine. But I'm still going to do something about your fashion later."@@ Jessica grins, clearly enjoying every second. @@.jessica;"And I'll be here to undo it."@@ You shake your head, staring down at the bag in your hand. It's a small thing, but somehow, it feels like more than that. Maybe this //is// growth. <</if>>\ <<if $jessfirst is true>>\ <<button "Now go to Threadz" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Threadz">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 16">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $jessfirst is true>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ The moment the words @@.player;"NovaTrend first"@@ leave your mouth, Jessica lights up like it's Christmas morning. @@.jessica;"Yes! I knew you had it in you, $name!"@@ she cheers, grabbing your arm and giving it a little shake, practically glowing. @@.jessica;"This is going to be ''so'' good for you. We are gonna get you looking polished."@@ Samantha, meanwhile, gasps like you just betrayed her. @@.samantha;"Damn. And here I was thinking we were best friends,"@@ she says, clutching her chest. @@.samantha;"Guess I was just the warm-up act for Queen Jessica and her Palace of Beige."@@ Jessica gives her a playful side-eye. @@.jessica;"It's //not// beige. It's chic."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ Samantha says flatly, @@.samantha;"chic if your personality is an almond milk latte."@@ Jessica rolls her eyes but grins. @@.jessica;"Samantha just can't comprehend subtlety."@@ @@.samantha;"Subtlety? Jessica, this place is basically Pinterest for rich people,"@@ Samantha fires back, following a step behind like she's making sure you don't fully defect to the other side. @@.samantha;"They probably iron their receipts."@@ Jessica tilts her head, unbothered. @@.jessica;"And yet, you're still coming in."@@ @@.samantha;"I gotta supervise,"@@ Samantha mutters. @@.samantha;"Make sure they don't slap a cardigan on him and brainwash him into talking about 'capsule wardrobes.'"@@ Jessica smirks. @@.jessica;"Don't knock capsule wardrobes until you try them."@@ @@.player;"Are you two gonna argue the whole way there?"@@ you ask, sighing. @@.jessica;"Ye@@@@.samantha;s,"@@ they both say in unison, and somehow that feels about right. <<else>>\ Leaving Threadz behind, the air almost feels different—brighter, calmer, less like you've just walked out of a mosh pit. The buzz of the mall hums around you as you head toward NovaTrend. Jessica stretches her arms a little, looking visibly relieved. @@.jessica;"Finally. Stepping out of hell and into heaven,"@@ she says as her eyes lock onto the sleek storefront ahead. @@.samantha;"Hell is cool, dude,"@@ Samantha fires back, snorting. @@.samantha;"At least it's got personality."@@ Jessica side-eyes her but doesn't bother arguing, too focused on her prize. @@.jessica;"Personality doesn't make up for bad lighting and a shirt wall that gave me a headache."@@ @@.samantha;"That's your problem,"@@ Samantha says, just shrugging. @@.samantha;"Some of us like a little chaos."@@ @@.player;"So this one's the classy part of the field trip, then?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"Exactly,"@@ Jessica says, smiling. @@.jessica;"Prepare to see how real clothes are supposed to look."@@ @@.samantha;"Or prepare to get bored out of your mind,@@ Samantha mutters, though she follows anyway. The signage for NovaTrend grows larger as you approach, all clean lines and subtle branding, until the entrance looms in front of you. Jessica pushes her hair like she's about to walk a runway. @@.jessica;"Alright. Let's fix you up."@@ <</if>>\ <<set $temp to true>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ NovaTrend feels like it stepped out of a magazine the moment you approach—pristine glass, sleek black trim, mannequins in effortless poses, and a gentle hint of clean linen and fruit drifting out whenever the door opens. It's stylish without being showy, like trendy doesn't need to shout. The second you step into NovaTrend, it feels like you've crossed some invisible threshold from the messy, fluorescent mall chaos into the curated, ultra-clean world of a fashion influencer's closet. Jessica actually sighs as you walk in, like she's home. @@.jessica;"See? This is how a store should feel."@@ Samantha lags behind, her beat-up sneakers squeaking slightly against the polished tile as she folds her arms. @@.samantha;"Yeah, if what you're going for is sterile and mildly terrifying,"@@ she mutters, eyeing a display of perfectly folded cardigans like they've personally offended her. @@.jessica;"Don't be dramatic,"@@ Jessica says, clearly unimpressed. @@.jessica;"It's clean. Organized. Everything here has a place and a purpose. That's called //intentional design//, Samantha."@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"Intentional design, sure. Or maybe it's a place where fun comes to ''die''."@@ She stops at a pair of mannequins posed mid-laugh, one hand cocked on a fake hip, the other gesturing at nothing. @@.samantha;"Dude, even these guys. Look at them. They look like they've benefitted from nepotism."@@ @@.jessica;"Or maybe they have their lives together,"@@ Jessica fires back smoothly. You raise an eyebrow, glancing between them. @@.player;"Do I need to separate you two before this turns into an actual fight?"@@ @@.jessica;"Oh, I'm not fighting,"@@ Jessica states, smirking. @@.jessica;"I'm just enlightening her."@@ @@.samantha;"Please,"@@ Samantha groans, throwing her head back. @@.samantha;"There's nothing enlightening about this place."@@ You can't help but laugh under your breath as Jessica turns her attention back to the store, gesturing around like she's conducting a tour. @@.jessica;"This is exactly what you need, $name. Clothes that don't scream, but still say something. Pieces that make you look like you put in effort, even when you didn't."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ Samantha chimes in, @@.samantha;"if what you want them to say is, 'Hi, I'm $name, and I own a curated bookshelf of books I haven't read."@@ @@.jessica;"Better than, 'Hi, I'm $name, and I haven't bought new clothes since middle school,'"@@ Jessica shoots back. You hold up your hands. @@.player;"Wow. Okay. Didn't realize I was opening myself up for roast night."@@ Jessica softens immediately, her playful edge melting into something gentler as she steps closer. @@.jessica;"Relax. I'm only teasing. Really, though—you don't need to overthink this. Just find something you like. Whatever feels like you, but maybe a little more put together."@@ Samantha doesn't argue, instead drifting to a display of boots she has no intention of endorsing. @@.samantha;"Fine. But if you walk out of here looking super basic, I reserve the right to mock you forever."@@ @@.player;"Noted,"@@ you say dryly. Jessica grins and gently nudges you toward a rack of soft knits. @@.jessica;"Just see what catches your eye. No pressure."@@ You wander off on your own. But before you can really explore, a staff member approaches. They have an effortless bounce that suggests they've worn every piece in the store twice already. Their name tag reads "Elle (they/them)" and they catch the hesitation in your body language instantly. @@.girl;"Hey there! Welcome to NovaTrend. First time shopping here?"@@ You hesitate. @@.player;"Is it that obvious?"@@ @@.girl;"Only because you're standing like the clothes are dangerous,"@@ Elle says, chuckling softly. @@.girl;"No worries, though. Looking for anything particular today? Something casual? Or just trying things out."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Just... trying stuff. New to this."@@ Elle nods like they've heard it before. @@.girl;"Got it. Let's keep it easy. We've got some really comfortable, low-fuss pieces that still look put together. Want me to pull a few options in your size?"@@ @@.player;"Sure,"@@ you say, nodding. Elle gives you a quick once-over, and glides off to a nearby rack. They return a minute later with a small stack of clothes—nothing outrageous, just trendy pieces that seem to beckon. @@.girl;"These are pretty forgiving fits,"@@ Elle says. @@.girl;"Nothing that hugs too hard, and everything's adjustable. If you like how any of them feel, we can look at other options too."@@ You nod again. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ Elle gestures toward the back. @@.girl;"Fitting rooms are just through there. Let me know if you need another size."@@ You head in the direction they pointed, passing displays of wide-leg trousers, trendy boots, and two mannequins posed mid-laugh, like they just heard a joke only rich people understand. Behind you, Samantha mutters, @@.samantha;"One of those mannequins just judged me."@@ @@.jessica;"That's because you came in looking like Threadz threw up on you,"@@ Jessica says, rolling her eyes. @@.samantha;"Thank you,"@@ Samantha replies sweetly. You roll your eyes and make your way to the fitting rooms. There, you find a calm, welcoming space: soft lights, a mirror framed gently, and a wooden bench. You hold the chosen outfits like quiet treasures. You step inside the changing room, closing the curtain behind you. The world softens to just you, the clothes, and a mirror. <<button "Try outfits on" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica NovaTrend 1">><</button>>

<<if $d18trygoth is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "GothOutfit">>\ <<if $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $tempshoes to $shoes>>\ <<set $outfit to 5>>\ <<set $shoes to 9>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 6>>\ You pause, fingers hovering just over the hanger. The lace trim brushes your knuckles—soft, weightless—and yet it sends a subtle pull through your chest. Not quite adrenaline. Not quite nerves. Something between the two. Like cracking open a door you didn't even realize was there. You glance toward the salesgirl. She's leaned against a rack now, arms crossed and one black boot resting on its heel like this is just another Tuesday. Her dark lipstick hasn't smudged a bit, but she hasn't lost her edge—but the sharpness in her expression has eased. No smug smirk, no teasing. Just a quiet, steady look that says more than words could. You swallow. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, voice barely above the hum of the store's moody playlist. @@.player;"I'll try it."@@ Her eyes gleam like moonlight catching on a knife's edge. @@.girl;"Good,"@@ she says simply, and hands it over like she's passing you a relic meant only for the worthy. The hanger feels heavier now. Or maybe it's just the weight of the moment. Samantha watches you with a raised eyebrow. @@.samantha;"You're really gonna go for it?"@@ she asks, but there's no mockery in it. Just a hint of surprised. And maybe even a little pride. @@.jessica;"Well, I think it's a good call,"@@ Jessica says, tilting her head toward you. @@.jessica;"You don't have to like it, but at least see how it feels. Sometimes you don't know if something works until you see yourself in it."@@ @@.player;"I mean, I'm already here, right?"@@ you mutter, and head toward the fitting rooms before you can talk yourself out of it. The fitting room curtain sighs closed behind you, swallowing you into a dim little pocket of space. One overhead bulb buzzes in mild protest, casting uneven shadows across the floor. A full-length mirror leans against the wall. You hang the outfit gently, then start to change. The dress slides over your shoulder like it's always known where to settle. The fabric is soft but structured; it hugs, but it doesn't cling. The off-shoulder cut brushes against your collarbones, the sleeves loose and billowy down to the wrist. The belt wraps snug at your waist, the buckle clicking into place with a finality that somehow feels symbolic. You tug on the fishnets, then step into the combat boots. You feel... taller. Not just physically. Like you take up a little more space in the world now, and for once, that isn't a bad thing. You turn slowly to face the mirror. <<set $shatterboxCG to true>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhairtie to $hairtie>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $shatterboxCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_Shatterbox">>\ And stop. You blink, once. Twice. The person staring back feels like someone you've met before in dreams. Maybe in moments of stillness. A you that's softer where it counts. Someone quiet, confident, not trying to shrink or guess what other people expect. The boots are bold, the lace is tender, and the look in your eyes is— Well. Something new. You tilt your head. Yeah. Maybe this isn't what you'd wear to school, or even out on a normal day. But in this moment? You look kind of incredible. From the other side of the curtain, the salesgirl's voice breaks through: @@.girl;"Well? You still alive in there, or did the mirror swallow you?"@@ You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. @@.player;"It's..."@@ You hesitate, then smile, even though no one can see it. @@.player;"Kind of awesome, actually."@@ You hear the faintest, smug little hum from beyond the curtain. @@.girl;"Told you."@@ <<button "Step outside" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica ShatterBox 2">><</button>> <<else>>\ You stop just short of taking the dress. It hangs there like a dare—dark, dramatic, and unapologetically bold. The lace flutters faintly in the low air-conditioning like it's breathing. There's a small, traitorous part of you that wants to know how it would feel, how it would look. How you'd look. But your hand doesn't move. Instead, you let out a quiet exhale and take a small step back. @@.player;"It's cool,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But... it's not really me."@@ The sales associate's fingers freeze mid-swing on the hanger. She's good—recovers fast—but you catch the flicker of disappointment before it slips behind a polite nod. @@.girl;"No worries,"@@ she says, tone smooth and even. @@.girl;"Not everyone wants to look like a sad poem and a riot had a baby."@@ She gently returns the hanger to its hook, letting the fabric settle like a sigh. @@.girl;"Still. You had the vibe for it. Just sayin'."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, can't deny that,"@@ Jessica says, studying the outfit as the sales associate puts it back where it was. @@.jessica;"You had the potential. It would've been interesting to see."@@ @@.samantha;"Yup,"@@ Samantha echoes. @@.samantha;"I mean, I get it. It //is// a lot."@@ @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you say awkwardly. @@.player;"But I think I'll leave the look for someone braver."@@ @@.jessica;"Anyway, you know what you like,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"That's what really matters. No point forcing it."@@ You nod. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ Samantha says, clapping her hands once like she's resetting the mood. @@.samantha;"Let's blow this crypt and find somewhere less haunted."@@ Jessica laughs softly, and the three of you make your way toward the door. As it swings shut behind you, the music fades and the daring dress disappears back into the dark. <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $transgender > 14>>\ You take a deep and grounding breath. One hand grips the edge of the curtain, the other lightly touches your waist where the belt clinches tight. The cold press of the little heart-shaped ring sits at your fingertips, and the fabric hangs heavier than you're used to. Not uncomfortable at all. Just.. deliberate. Like it's framing you, instead of hiding you. Your heart's beating fast, but it's not fear. Not really. It's closer to anticipation—like you just fell and are unsure whether you're about to fall or fly. And then you step out. Your boots land on the polished concrete with a soft but solid thud, each step echoing just slightly in the quiet stretch between the fitting rooms and the racks of oversized black sweaters. You look up—and there, at the end of the hall, a tall mirror framed in flickering LED vines waits. You see yourself. And everything halts. You don't look like you're pretending. Or dressing up as someone else. You don't look like a joke. Instead, you look like a version of yourself that makes //sense//. Like someone you've been slowly circling for a long time but never quite dared to approach. The salesgirl looks up first, and her face brightens like she just got confirmation she was right all along. @@.girl;"Oh,"@@ she says, slow and deliberate, a sly smile tugging at her lips. @@.girl;"Now //that// works. That's the kind of transformation I like to see."@@ Samantha looks up from a table of studded wristbands, one eyebrow raised, a snarky remark clearly forming—but it never arrives. She pauses. Actually pauses. @@.samantha;"Oh,"@@ she says, blinking. @@.samantha;"Okay, damn. Look at you. You look great."@@ You can't help the small, embarrassed grin creeping onto your face. @@.player;"I... actually kind of like it,"@@ you admit, brushing a hand down the dress. @@.player;"It feels good. Like, I don't know. Different, sure, but in a good way."@@ Jessica takes a moment, but her expression quickly softens. @@.jessica;"Wow,"@@ she says warmly. @@.jessica;"I suppose that's the magic of ShatterBox. I'm honestly impressed. You kind of own that outfit."@@ Your cheeks feel warm at that, and you shift slightly in the boots. @@.player;"You really think so? I was worried I'd look ridiculous."@@ @@.jessica;"Not even a little,"@@ Jessica says, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"It looks like you. Or at least, a version of you that feels... confident."@@ You glance down at yourself again, at the boots, the lace trim, the soft sleeves brushing your arms. Then back at your reflection. Your posture's a little straighter now. Your jaw set without thinking. @@.player;"I kind of... love it,"@@ you admit. <<else>>\ You ease the curtain open, one hand still gripping the fabric like it might be a shield. The boots thud quietly on the floor as you step out, the dress trailing just slightly behind you with each movement—too fluid, too noticeable. Your arms cross instinctively over your chest, shoulders hunched a little tighter than usual, like that might make the whole thing feel less... loud. The salesgirl's black lipstick curves into a small, approving smile. @@.girl;"Well,"@@ she says, crossing her arms. @@.girl;"That's a look. You clean up nice."@@ @@.jessica;"Wow,"@@ Jessica says after a beat. @@.jessica;"You actually pull that off better than I thought you would. And I already thought you'd look great."@@ Samantha, of course, throws both hands up in mock celebration. @@.samantha;"Behold! My spooky little creation has emerged from the cocoon!"@@ She steps back, takes in the whole look, then adds, @@.samantha;"Okay, those boots are insane. You're basically a threat now."@@ @@.player;"I... don't know,"@@ you say, shifting your weight awkwardly. @@.player;"It feels... weird."@@ You stand awkwardly, shifting your weight from one boot to the other. The belt digs a little where it sits across your hips—noticeable in a way you're not used to. The neckline feels too open, the hem just slightly too short. You're aware of every inch of fabric. You don't hate how it looks exactly, but wearing it feels like stepping into someone else's outline. Not quite yours. The salesgirl approaches with a slanted smile, her arms still folded as she scans you up and down. @@.girl;"I can't lie,"@@ she says, tilting her head, @@.girl;"that's a strong silhouette."@@ You manage a half-smile. @@.player;"I guess that's a vibe."@@ @@.girl;"Oh, it's //definitely// a vibe,"@@ she replies. @@.girl;"I've seen way worse first tries. You're pulling it off more than you think."@@ You nod, tugging subtly at the sleeve where it slides down your arm again. @@.player;"It's cool. The issue is that it doesn't really feel like me."@@ Samantha catches your expression and dials it back a notch. @@.samantha;"Hey,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"It's okay if it's not your thing. You don't have to like it."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ Jessica agrees. @@.jessica;"There's no pressure. You don't have to commit to something you're not comfortable in."@@ You let out a breath and glance down at the fishnets and boots like they're mocking you. @@.player;"I think I just wanted to see. But I don't think this is me."@@ The salesgirl shrugs. @@.girl;"Fair enough,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"At least you gave it a show. That's more than most people do when they come in here."@@ @@.jessica;"Honestly? That's what shopping's for,"@@ Jessica reassures. @@.jessica;"You try things, see how they feel, and figure out what actually fits you."@@ @@.samantha;"Plus, we know what you'd look like if you ever became emo now,"@@ Samantha says, smirking again. @@.samantha;"So, that's a win."@@ You can't help but laugh a little at that. The salesgirl gives a little two-finger salute. @@.girl;"Door's open if you ever change your mind, though."@@ You nod, grateful. You don't hate what you see in the mirror. But you're not sure if it's a door you're ready to walk through. Still... you gave it a shot. That counts for something. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica ShatterBox 3">><</button>>

You're still standing in front of the mirror. The soft overhead light casts a dim glow on the silver eyelets of the boots and the delicate shimmer of the choker. The outfit doesn't feel like a costume anymore. It's snug in the right places, drapes in the right places—like it knew what it was doing long before you ever touched it. You can't quite name what you're feeling, only that it's unfamiliar and a little louder than you expected. Samantha's leaning against the edge of a nearby display table, arms folded, phone long forgotten. Her head is tilted slightly, her eyes flicking between your reflection and the real you—almost as if she's trying to decide if they're the same person. She's quiet. Not in the awkward way, but in the rare, thinking-too-hard way. Jessica stands a few feet away, her hands clasped loosely in front of her. @@.jessica;"You know,"@@ she says finally, breaking the silence, @@.jessica;"that outfit looks like it's supposed to be yours."@@ You glance at her through the mirror. @@.player;"You think so?"@@ Jessica nods, smiling faintly. @@.jessica;"Yeah. It's a big shift from your usual style, but it works."@@ @@.samantha;"Same,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Honestly, I was worried you'd come out looking like you were wearing a Halloween costume. But no. You actually pull it off. Kinda annoyingly well."@@ The salesgirl makes her way over, her boots tapping a steady rhythm across the floor. She walks like someone who's used to being in charge, shoulders relaxed and gaze sharp. Arms crossed, she stops a few steps away and scans you head to toe, her smirk lazy but genuine. @@.girl;"So,"@@ she says, tilting her head. @@.girl;"You buying it or just blessing the store with a one-time appearance?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"The whole outfit?"@@ You glance down at yourself. @@.player;"Dress, boots, belt, choker, fishnets? All of it?"@@ @@.girl;"The full look,"@@ she confirms. @@.girl;"It's cohesive, don't you think?"@@ You open your mouth, then close it again. @@.player;"It looks expensive."@@ @@.samantha;"It probably //is// expensive,"@@ Samantha mutters under her breath, still watching your reflection like it might say something first. @@.player;"How much?"@@ you ask. @@.girl;"Fifty bucks,"@@ the girl says. You stop. @@.player;"...Fifty for everything?"@@ She nods once, bored and smug. @@.girl;"Corporate glitch. Inventory system threw a tantrum, clearance tag stacked on each other, I bundled it as a display fit to save time. Should be like two hundred, minimum, The boots alone usually retail for eighty."@@ She taps the side of her head. @@.girl;"Indie belt maker, hand-stitched fishnets, locally made choker by some girl with a soldering iron—basically boutique quality across the board."@@ Jessica looks mildly stunned. @@.jessica;"Fifty for all that? That's kind of ridiculous."@@ @@.samantha;"Some kind of chaos coupon magic,"@@ Samantha mutters, shaking her head. @@.girl;"Exactly,"@@ the salesgirl says with a grin. @@.girl;"So, are you taking advantage of it or what?"@@ You glance at Jessica. @@.jessica;"If you like it even a little, I think it's worth getting,"@@ Jessica says, meeting your gaze with a nod. @@.jessica;"You're not going to find a deal like that again."@@ You glance at Samantha. @@.samantha;"I mean... you kind of killed it,"@@ Samantha says, tilting her head. @@.samantha;"For this price, I don't know. I think it's a good deal."@@ You glance back at the glass, half-expecting the reflection to crack or laugh or shake its head. But it doesn't. It just stands there like it's been waiting for you to catch up. The salesgirl's tone dips, just a little. @@.girl;"No pressure,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"But if you feel even a little like you belong in that, I'd hold onto it. Most people aren't a good match for it."@@ Your fingers graze the edge of the dress again. The hem sways gently with the motion, brushing against your legs. You can feel your pulse beneath your skin. @@.girl;"So?"@@ the salesgirl prompts again, voice light but pointed. Samantha leans in a little, eyebrow raised. Your reflection doesn't blink. Neither do you. <<if $money > 49>>\ <<button "Buy it" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica ShatterBox 4">>\<<set $d18buygoth to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_buygoth" "Buy it" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Don't buy it" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica ShatterBox 4">>\<<set $d18buygoth to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_buygoth" "Don't buy it" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d18buygoth is true>>\ <<set $outfitUnlock[5] to true>>\ <<set $money -= 50>>\ You stare at your reflection for a few more seconds, the air around you humming like it's waiting for a decision. The dress clings just enough, the boots make you feel grounded, and the belt, absurdly, feels like armor. There's a version of you staring back that looks self-assured and cinematic—like they walked straight out of a dream. @@.player;"I want it,"@@ you say, voice firm and quieter than expected. The goth salesgirl grins instantly, like she's been sitting on that smile the whole time. @@.girl;"I fucking knew it. You've got the cheekbones and spirit for the outfit."@@ Samantha makes a sound that's somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. @@.samantha;"Okay, wow. You're actually going for it."@@ @@.jessica;"I knew you'd go for it,"@@ Jessica beams. @@.jessica;"You look too good in that to walk away."@@ You step forward—still wearing the full outfit—and she doesn't ask you to take it off. @@.girl;"Okay, look, technically I'm supposed to make people change before ringing them up,"@@ she says, unlocking the register. She glances up at you. @@.girl;"But honestly? For this? We're gonna pretend that rule never existed. The vibes are too strong."@@ She types something into the register, taps the screen, and then nods at the total. @@.girl;"Fifty even. And let me be very clear: that's criminally cheap. Like, you should be arrested for getting away with it."@@ You tap your phone against the reader without hesitation. The soft beep confirms the sale. The salesgirl peels the tags off with an efficient flick and hands you the tiny bag with your old clothes inside. @@.girl;"There,"@@ she says, leaning back against the counter. @@.girl;"Now you're part of the aesthetic. Wear it out. Let the world deal with it."@@ Samantha gives you a playful once-over as you sling the bag over your shoulder. @@.samantha;"Look at you,"@@ she says, half-proud, half-teasing. @@.samantha;"All broody. I'm gonna have to step up my game."@@ You pause for half a second, then nod. Outside the store, the light feels brighter, but you don't flinch from it. The boots thud softly as you walk, the choker catching the overhead lights in glints. Samantha falls in beside you, one eyebrow raised in appraisal. @@.samantha;"You really did it,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"You actually wore the dress."@@ You glance over at her, feeling the weight of it settle on your shoulders. @@.player;"I did."@@ @@.samantha;"And?"@@ she asks. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You don't rush your answer. @@.player;"It feels... right."@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"Knew it."@@ She punches your arm lightly. @@.samantha;"You're still a dork, though. Just a slightly more dangerous-looking one."@@ You don't mind. Not even a little. <<else>>\ You hesitate before answering. @@.player;"...It's interesting,"@@ you say finally. @@.player;"I don't even know why I bought it, it's not really me."@@ Samantha watches you for a beat, then nods like she gets it. @@.samantha;"Fair enough."@@ She gives you a quick smile. @@.samantha;"Still a dork either way. Just one in a cooler outfit now."@@ You let out a soft laugh. It doesn't feel perfect—but it doesn't feel like a mistake either. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ You stand there for a moment longer, still facing the mirror. The outfit fits. It really does. Something about it clicks. But even so... it doesn't feel like something you can take home. You take a small breath, steadying yourself, and turn away from your reflection. @@.player;"I think I'm gonna pass,"@@ you say, your voice quiet but clear. The salesgirl arches a brow, surprised—but not offended. @@.girl;"Sure. Little disappointing, but your call."@@ @@.player;"It was nice,"@@ you say, your voice quiet. @@.player;"But I think I'm just... not there yet."@@ She studies you for a second longer. Then nods. @@.girl;"Fair enough."@@ From a few feet away, Samantha leans against a display case, eyes fixed on you like she's watching a scene unfold in her favorite show. @@.samantha;"You sure?"@@ she says, tilting her head. @@.samantha;"Because you kinda walked out looking like you'd just been summoned from a vampire coven in Transylvania."@@ <<if $study > 84>>\ You snort. @@.player;"I'm not qualified to dress like I belong in Romania."@@ <<else>>\ You snort. @@.player;"I don't even know where Transylvania is."@@ <</if>>\ @@.samantha;"It's fine,"@@ she says, brushing imaginary dust from her jacket. @@.samantha;"You looked cool. Like, 'accidentally started a cult' cool. In a good way."@@ @@.jessica;"You don't have to explain yourself, $name,"@@ Jessica says touching your arm lightly. @@.jessica;"Just change back."@@ You smile faintly, ducking back into the changing room. Taking the outfit off is harder than you expect. Not physically—it slides off just fine—but it feels like shedding something more than fabric. Like unfastening the version of you that only gets to exist inside mirrors. You fold everything with care before stepping out. The salesgirl takes it without a word. Her smirk is gone now—replaced by something almost thoughtful. @@.girl;"If you change your mind,"@@ she says, @@.girl;"I've got the whole ensemble for a little longer. Just ask for it."@@ You offer a nod in return. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ Back in the mall, the air feels a little too bright. You blink against the sterile lights. Samantha falls into step beside you, hands shoved deep in her pockets. @@.samantha;"You know,"@@ she says, @@.samantha;"I was fully expecting you to buy it and then instantly regret it once someone's grandma gave you a weird look."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"Would've served me right."@@ @@.jessica;"It's just clothes,"@@ Jessica says, offering a reassuring pat on your shoulder as you all head toward the door. @@.jessica;"You'll figure out what feels right. You've got time."@@ You smile, soft and small, as the mall swallows you both back into its steady hum. <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp1 to true>>\ Stepping into ShatterBox, you're hit with a wave of velvet darkness and electric energy—like a haunted mansion redesigned for alt fashion devotees. The walls are matte black, purple LED strips twisting around shelves like digital ivy, and the speakers pulse with slow, thudding bass. Posters featuring cult indie bands, surreal album art, and glitch-horror illustrations cling at odd angles, while mannequins stand in brooding poses—as if daring you to challenge them. Jessica glances around with a mixture of curiosity and judgment. @@.jessica;"This is an interesting aesthetic,"@@ she says slowly, drawing out the words like she's still making up her mind. @@.samantha;"Oh yeah,"@@ Samantha says, grinning. @@.samantha;"This is my kind of place. Not as much as Threadz, but still alright. Smells like rebellion and secondhand eyeliner."@@ @@.player;"Secondhand eyeliner?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Does that exist?"@@ @@.samantha;"You clearly haven't seen enough in life, my dear $name,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"I don't even know who originally bought my favorite eyeliner."@@ You frown. Jessica trails a few steps behind you, still scanning the store. @@.jessica;"So, are we actually shopping here? Or have we just decided to appreciate the local vampire colony's wardrobe?"@@ @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you admit, your voice quieter than you meant it to be. @@.player;"It's kind of... intense. I don't know how to describe it, I just feel like the mannequins are about to start moving."@@ Jessica smirks, nudging your arm lightly. @@.jessica;"Don't look away. They can smell fear."@@ @@.player;"Thanks for the tip,"@@ you say dryly. You're still soaking in the décor—if you can call creeping vinyl posters, looping CRT glitch videos, and a looming neon sign that says "BITE ME" décor—when the curtain behind the counter rustles. Then //she// appears. The girl who steps out has presence. Not the kind that shouts, but the kind that sinks its teeth in. Chunky boots that hit the ground like a war drum. Fishnets, a high-waisted pleated skirt, and a shredded band tee with a skull design you're pretty sure was drawn in someone's blood. Her black lipstick is immaculate, sharp in a way that makes you wonder if she uses it as a weapon. A moon pendant larger than a toddler sits in front of her chest. She pauses, eyes sweeping the store, landing right on you. @@.girl;"You look like you're trying to convince yourself you're not into this,"@@ she says, voice flat but playful. @@.girl;"Newsflash—people don't walk into ''my'' store by accident."@@ You blink. @@.player;"I... wasn't gonna buy anything."@@ She raises a single, skeptical brow. @@.girl;"Sure, sure. Just browsing. Everyone's just browsing. Until the clothing speaks to you and then suddenly you're reevaluating your whole personality."@@ @@.samantha;"She's got a point,"@@ Samantha states. The salesgirl smiles, just a little, like she's pleased with herself. @@.girl;"Come on. I'll show you something."@@ She turns, the chains on her belt jangling with every step as she leads you through the dim-lit racks and shelves. There are shirts with cryptic phrases, corsets that look like they're built for battle, and jackets that could double as armor. She walks with the confidence of someone who knows every square inch of the space and isn't afraid to test you in it. @@.girl;"There was a system wipe last week,"@@ she says over her shoulder. @@.girl;"We lost half the inventory. Corporate called it 'inventory corruption.' I call it a spiritual cleansing."@@ She stops in front of a lone display hanger like she's presenting an offering to the fashion gods. @@.girl;"But this?"@@ she says. @@.girl;"This survived. And I kept it in the back because, honestly, I didn't want just anyone getting their hands on it."@@ She pulls it forward with one hand. It's an outfit. The dress is black—of course—but not in a boring way. It's soft and velvety, off-shoulder with long sleeves that flare just a bit. There's a subtle lace trim along the hem, like the edge of something forgotten and romantic. A thin belt wraps around the middle, with a silver heart-shaped buckle that catches the low light just enough to sparkle. Attached to the hanger are a pair of fishnet tights, and below that—your eyes catch on the boots. Platform combat boots. Polished black with silver buckles, thick soles, and enough presence to stomp through someone's soul. @@.girl;"This one never made it to the floor,"@@ she says, holding it like something sacred. @@.girl;"It was supposed to be scrapped. I pulled it before it got tossed. I mean, look at it. This isn't for a window mannequin. This is for someone with //taste//."@@ Jessica steps in closer, folding her arms as she gives the outfit a long, skeptical look. @@.jessica;"Okay, at first glance? Not really my thing,"@@ she admits, her voice even, like she's preparing to deliver a gentle but honest verdict. She tilts her head slightly, studying the velvet texture and the stitching along the belt. Then she leans in a bit, running her fingers lightly along the sleeve. @@.jessica;"But... damn. This is actually really high quality. The details are insane."@@ She takes another moment, stepping back to look at the whole ensemble again. @@.jessica;"Goth isn't really my style. I think that part is obvious. But if I //was// goth? Yeah. I'd definitely buy this. No question."@@ The salesgirl perks up a little, leaning one elbow casually on a nearby rack. @@.girl;"That's because it's really high quality. All the parts were imported. I was this close to just buying it myself."@@ She tilts her head toward you, smirking. @@.girl;"But I figured someone with potential would walk in eventually."@@ @@.player;"Potential?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.player;"I haven't even put it on yet."@@ @@.girl;"Exactly,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Yet you're already giving off the right energy for it."@@ @@.samantha;"It's seriously good,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"You'd give off Aurora vibes."@@ You rub at the back of your neck. @@.player;"I don't know. I mean, it's nice, but I don't exactly scream 'brooding dark sorcerer.'"@@ The salesgirl crosses her arms, still smiling faintly. @@.girl;"That's the point. You don't //have// to scream it. The outfit does the work for you. You just exist in it, and suddenly people are rethinking everything they thought they knew about you."@@ @@.jessica;"She's right,"@@ Jessica says, humming thoughtfully at that. @@.jessica;"It's dramatic in a good way. You'd look like you're trying something new and succeeding."@@ You give her a skeptical look. @@.player;"You really think I could pull this off?"@@ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ Jessica meets your gaze, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the store fades into background noise. Her voice drops just a little, becoming softer and more personal. @@.jessica;"I really do. You'd look... amazing."@@ The way she says it makes your chest feel tight in a way that has nothing to do with the outfit. <<else>>\ Jessica meets your gaze with the kind of calm confidence that makes her hard to argue with. @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ she says firmly, nodding once. @@.jessica;"You'd pull it off. No question."@@ The tone she says it in makes it hard not to at least consider believing her. <</if>>\ Samantha, of course, ruins the quiet moment by nudging you with her elbow. @@.samantha;"You're just scared you're gonna like it."@@ You sigh, glancing back at the dress. The sales attendant takes the hanger from you and flips it in her hand. @@.girl;"Try it. Or don't. But if you don't, I guarantee some watered-down TikTok goth wannabe is gonna wander in later and ruin its potential."@@ You sigh. @@.girl;"Well?"@@ she asks, raising her eyebrow. @@.girl;"The fitting room's open and the mirror doesn't bite."@@ <<button "Try it on" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica ShatterBox 1">>\<<set $d18trygoth to true>>\<<trackChoice "D18_trygoth" "Try it on" "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide against wearing it" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica ShatterBox 1">>\<<set $d18trygoth to false>>\<<trackChoice "D18_trygoth" "Decide against wearing it" "story">><</button>>

<<set $shoeUnlock to []>> <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ You slip off the shoe you were trying on and place it neatly back on the bench. The cushion beneath you hisses faintly as you shift your weight. Jessica lingers nearby, surveying the choices. Her long blonde ponytail swings slightly as she tilts her head, an easy smile tugging at her lips. @@.jessica;"So?"@@ she says, her voice light but genuinely curious. @@.jessica;"Any favorites? You looked pretty deep in thought over there."@@ Samantha stands nearby, arms crossed loosely, tapping the heel of one sneaker against the floor like she's barely holding back a thousand opinions. @@.samantha;"Yeah, seriously,"@@ she adds. @@.samantha;"Do they give you the power of flight? Or are we talking 'subtle upgrades' here?"@@ You roll your ankle a bit. @@.player;"Honestly? Kinda great. Light, comfy. I think I'm done trying stuff on."@@ Jessica beams a little, like she's proud of you for coming to a decision. @@.jessica;"That's good! StepUp's kind of my go-to for shoes,"@@ she says, glancing toward a wall of neatly displayed sneakers. @@.jessica;"I've gotten, like, half my collection from here. They usually hold up pretty well. Their prices are the same as online stores too."@@ Samantha lets out an exaggerated sigh, tossing her beanie back slightly. @@.samantha;"We gather here today to honor $name's ankles,"@@ she intones solemnly. @@.samantha;"May they forever be blister-free and fashionably supported."@@ Before you can respond, a sales associate approaches—crew-cut, crisp store polo, clipboard tucked under one arm, and an approachable smile already in place. @@.boy;"Looks like you're weighing some options,"@@ he says warmly, glancing down at the neat line of shoes you've already set out. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah, just figuring out what fits best. Could I get the prices?"@@ @@.boy;"Of course."@@ He flips the clipboard and starts down the row. @@.boy;"First, the BreezeAir Lows with the butterfly design. That's a limited, designer collab—forty dollars. They're pretty in-demand right now."@@ @@.jessica;"Oh, those are beautiful,"@@ Jessica says, leaning closer to take a look. @@.jessica;"They'd look so good with lighter colors. Definitely a statement, but still subtle."@@ @@.samantha;"Delicate and dangerous,"@@ Samantha whispers. @@.samantha;"Like $name when he's hungry."@@ <<if $acceptance > 19>>\ @@.player;"I am //not// dangerous,"@@ you say. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I am //not// delicate,"@@ you say. <</if>>\ The associate moves on to the neon trainers. @@.boy;"These SwiftCharge Trainers feature breathable mesh and NeonGrip soles—designed for active days. Thirty dollars."@@ @@.jessica;"Those are... fun,"@@ Jessica says with a grin. @@.jessica;"Super bold. You'd definitely stand out in those."@@ @@.samantha;"I can't condone these,"@@ Samantha mutters, squinting at them like they personally offended her. @@.samantha;"These shoes look like they'll drag you into a spontaneous rave."@@ Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"Oh, come on. They're playful! Not everything has to be understated."@@ The associate then gestures toward the flats. @@.boy;"The SomaSoft options—white, black, and brown—are everyday classics at fifteen dollars combined."@@ @@.jessica;"You can't really go wrong with those,"@@ Jessica says, nodding approvingly. @@.jessica;"They'd work for basically anything."@@ Samantha shrugs. @@.samantha;"They're the introverts of footwear. Boring, but functional. Not mad about it."@@ Finally, the associate gestures to the pair you just took off—SeraForm StreetLace Lights, the matte white low-tops. @@.boy;"Those are twenty. Classic look, low-profile, versatile. One of our bestsellers, actually."@@ You glance back at them. They're clean, sharp, and feel like a safe choice. He flips his clipboard and offers a small nod. @@.boy;"Take your time. I can box them up when you're ready."@@ Jessica crouches slightly to get one more look at the options. @@.jessica;"Honestly, you picked some good options,"@@ she says, her voice warm. @@.jessica;"I think you'd look great in any of them. Just go with what feels the most like you."@@ Samantha elbows you lightly. @@.samantha;"No pressure,"@@ she adds with a smirk. @@.samantha;"But your choice //will// forever define how I roast you."@@ You look back down at the options—each of them saying something different. It's time to choose. <<button "Choose some shoes to get" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica StepUp 3">><</button>>

<<if $shoeUnlock[2] isnot true and $shoeUnlock[3] isnot true and $shoeUnlock[7] isnot true and $shoeUnlock[8] isnot true>> <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ You stare at the lineup of shoes a moment longer—white butterflies, screaming neon, quiet flats, sleek matte low-tops. They're all fine. Great, even. But something in your chest is pulling tight in that subtle, invisible way it sometimes does. Like when you're standing in front of a shelf full of choices and none of them feel exactly right, even if they //should//. Not today. Not yet. You exhale and lean back on the bench. In the end, you slip your own shoes back on and stand up. Jessica steps closer, following your gaze to the lineup. @@.jessica;"None of them feel right?"@@ she asks, her tone light but sympathetic. You shake your head. @@.player;"They're nice. Just... I don't think I'm ready to spend money on something I'm not totally sold on."@@ @@.jessica;"That makes sense,"@@ Jessica says with a little nod. @@.jessica;"Shoes are long-term commitments. You'll know when it's the right pair."@@ Samantha crosses her arms. @@.samantha;"Translation: you didn't get those 'these are my shoes' lightning bolt moment."@@ @@.player;"Is that a real thing?"@@ you ask. She shrugs. @@.samantha;"I mean, yeah? You put them on, and suddenly you're like, 'Ah yes, I'm powerful and these shoes will carry me to victory.'"@@ @@.jessica;"That is //so// not how it works for most people,"@@ Jessica comments. @@.samantha;"For me it is,"@@ Samantha says, deadpan. As you turn toward the front of the store, the associate from earlier spots you and steps forward. His clipboard is still in hand and his smile is still polite, if just a little dimmer. @@.boy;"Find something you liked?"@@ You offer a small, apologetic smile. @@.player;"They were all great. I'm just gonna hold off for now."@@ He nods, clearly trained for this exact moment. @@.boy;"No worries. Happens all the time. Let us know if you changed your mind."@@ He says it cheerfully enough, but there's that tiny flicker of disappointment, the barely-there sag in his posture as he steps aside. You give him a small nod of thanks as you pass, Samantha right beside you. Once you're through the sliding glass door and back into the open pulse of the mall. Your shoulders ease a little. @@.samantha;"Well,"@@ Samantha begins, @@.samantha;"we didn't find your perfect shoe soulmate, but hey—there's plenty of stores in the mall to conquer."@@ You didn't leave with a new pair of shoes today—but that's okay. You went. You looked. Maybe next time you'll try again. And somehow, that feels like enough. <<else>>\ <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ You make your decision with a small breath through your nose, hand drifting to the pair that just feels right. You pick it up, letting your fingers glide along the edge one last time before you stand up. Jessica's the first to notice. @@.jessica;"Ohh,"@@ she says, stepping in close to get a look. Her tone's approving, but she adds with a grin, @@.jessica;"Very you. I can already picture them sitting by your front door."@@ @@.samantha;"So that's the winner, huh?"@@ Samantha asks. You nod. @@.player;"Feels like it."@@ @@.samantha;"Bold move,"@@ she says, inspecting the pair you picked. @@.samantha;"Courageous. Shoe critics will be divided for years."@@ @@.player;"Pretty sure they won't,"@@ you mutter, heading toward the register. Jessica falls into step beside you. @@.jessica;"Honestly? I think you nailed it. StepUp has a bunch of good options, but you may have just gotten the best one here."@@ Samantha pretends to gag. @@.samantha;"Oh no. Don't tell me I'm the only one in this group who still believes in rotating the same beat-up sneakers until they literally disintegrate."@@ @@.jessica;"That's just you,"@@ Jessica fires back. @@.jessica;"The rest of us like having clean shoes."@@ @@.samantha;"Excuse you,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"It's called practical chic. Very exclusive."@@ You shake your head, already stepping up to the counter. The associate spots you approaching and perks up. @@.boy;"Found the one?"@@ he asks as he slides behind the register. @@.player;"Yep."@@ He nods, taking the box from your hands and flipping it open for a quick inspection. @@.boy;"Good choice."@@ He scans the tag, the price popping up on the small digital display with a confirming beep. You pull out your phone and double-click the side button. The tap of your device against the reader is met by a soft chime, followed be a cheerful "Payment Approved" on the screen. @@.boy;"Nice,"@@ he says, tucking tissue paper inside the box and closing the lid with practiced care. @@.boy;"You want the box in a bag or just like this?"@@ @@.player;"Bag, please."@@ He slides the shoebox into a paper bag with the StepUp logo embossed across the front. It crinkles lightly as he passes it to you. @@.boy;"Here you go. Hope you get some good wear out of them."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, adjusting the handles in your grip. Samantha joins you at the exit, glancing once at the bag, then at you. @@.samantha;"Ah, the sacred shoe ritual is complete. You've officially leveled up."@@ You look down at the bag. It's not //really// about the shoes. It's about the small, steady decisions that make you feel more ''you''. It's not a full reinvention, but it is a step. And isn't that //exactly// what shoes are for? <</if>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp4 to true>>\ <<set $tempshoes to $shoes>>\ You and Samantha step into StepUp Footwear, and the store greets you with that distinct mix of new rubber soles, faux leather polish, and something vaguely citrusy that's probably meant to smell like "clean energy." Bright lighting reflects off the freshly waxed floors, and the walls are lined with neat, curated displays—runners, skaters, flats, and slip-ons all perfectly aligned like they're waiting to be scouted. Jessica inhales deeply and actually smiles. @@.jessica;"God, I love this place. I've gotten half my shoes from here. It's like a candy store for people with taste."@@ @@.samantha;"Or for people who like blinding fluorescent lighting,"@@ Samantha mutters, shoving her hands into her pockets. @@.jessica;"You don't like candy stores?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.samantha;"I like candy stores that don't make me feel like I'm about to be peer-pressured into buying shoes."@@ You make a beeline toward the sneaker wall, where a bright display labeled Vektix Collection catches your eye. The first pair you reach for are the ''Vektix BreezeAir Lows''—crisp white with delicate blue butterflies stitched along the sides, the pattern subtle enough to not feel loud, but detailed enough to feel special. The design almost shimmers under the overhead light. Jessica tilts her head. @@.jessica;"These are so cute. I'd wear those in a heartbeat."@@ Samantha gives them a look like they've personally wrong. @@.samantha;"Hmm. Those are dangerously close to you becoming a Soft Pastel Person."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Dangerously?"@@ @@.samantha;"Like... if I see you in those, I'll assume you own a planner and know how to braid other people's hair. Which, to be clear, I fully support. I'm just saying, there's a whole vibe baked into those butterflies."@@ You glance down at the shoes, lips curving slightly. You can't say she's entirely wrong. A few steps over, another pair screams for attention—''Vektix SwiftCharge Trainers''.These are practically vibrating with energy: jagged hot-pink soles, orange laces, and a glossy finish that almost feels like it should hum when you pick it up. @@.jessica;"Oh wow,"@@ Jessica exclaims. @@.jessica;"These are loud. Like, festival-loud."@@ @@.player;"They're not loud. They're... energetic,"@@ you counter. @@.samantha;"They're a threat,"@@ Samantha says, shaking her head. @@.samantha;"I feel like they'd just drag you into spontaneous parkour."@@ @@.player;"They do look fast."@@ @@.samantha;"No one wearing those bothers to walk, $name. They //dart//. They leap over benches and vault escalators."@@ You can't help but grin. @@.player;"So... not for you, then."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm allergic to cardio,"@@ Samantha says, giving you a flat look. @@.jessica;"Well, I love them,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"They're chaotic in an intentional way. Like, you'd have to commit to them with a whole outfit."@@ You keep moving and land at a trio of ''SomaSoft Flats''—white, black, and brown. No branding, no frills. Just clean lines and quiet, reliable design. @@.jessica;"Now these are the sensible ones,"@@ Jessica says, sounding almost approving. @@.jessica;"Minimalist, goes with everything. Honestly? You could use a pair like that."@@ @@.samantha;"They're the shoe equivalent of a tax form,"@@ Samantha cuts in. @@.samantha;"Efficient. Reasonable. Emotionally neutral. If you buy those, I'll assume you've given up on personality entirely."@@ @@.player;"They're practical, you know,"@@ you respond. @@.samantha;"Oh, I'm not judging,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Actually, I //am//, but with love. I know your style. You like pretending you're mysterious and understated. These are very 'Don't perceive me, but also I dress on purpose.'"@@ Then, tucked near the bottom row of a slightly recessed shelf, your eyes catch on a more hidden pair—''SeraForm Streetlace Lights''. Low-top, all white, matte finish, minimal in the best way. They don't scream. They don't beg for attention. But they're sharp—precise, even. Samantha leans in as you crouch for a closer look. @@.samantha;"Ooh. See, those are dangerous in a different way,"@@ she murmurs. @@.samantha;"Clean lines, sleek shape, total sleeper pick. You wear those, you're not trying to impress anyone—you're just inherently cool."@@ Jessica nods in agreement. @@.jessica;"Those are nice. Like, timeless nice. You could pair those with almost anything."@@ You straighten up, look at all the shoes, and then glance at Jessica and Samantha. @@.player;"So what I'm hearing is you'll judge me no matter what I pick."@@ @@.samantha;"Obviously,"@@ Samantha corrects. @@.jessica;"Supportively,"@@ Jessica adds, smiling. A store associate passes and nods politely. Samantha gestures toward the bench nearby, already nudging you toward it. @@.samantha;"Go on, Cinderella. Let's see if they fit."@@ Time to try something on. <<button "Try on the shoes" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica StepUp 1">><</button>>

<<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ Samantha disappears into the racks like a raccoon that's just spotted a half-eaten slice of New York pizza. One second she's next to you making jokes about graphic tees, the next she's elbow-deep in a clearance bin. Jessica, meanwhile, is still hovering near the entrance like she's worried the store will rub off on her, arms crossed and face twisted into a mix of amusement and horror. @@.jessica;"This place smells like energy drinks and sadness,"@@ Jessica mutters, fiddling with her phone like it might act as a protective barrier. @@.samantha;"That's the //aesthetic//,"@@ Samantha calls out from somewhere deep in the hoodies. @@.samantha;"God, keep up."@@ You're still debating if you should try to blend in or just stand still and hope no one notices you when Samantha reappears with the kind of triumphant grin that promises trouble. In her arms are three pieces of fabric that look like they were designed during a caffeine-fueled fever dream. @@.samantha;"Behold!"@@ she announces, practically shoving the first one at your chest—a beige hoodie with deep brown sleeves and a giant butterfly splashed across the front. @@.samantha;"This says: 'I'm mysterious and outdoorsy, but also approachable.' Perfect."@@ Before you can respond, she slaps a white graphic tee on top of it, the front featuring a giant waffle cone overflowing with scoops of ice cream shaped like cartoon guinea pigs. @@.samantha;"This one says: 'I don't take myself too seriously.' Which, honestly, is a good vibe for you."@@ Jessica leans in to look and blinks. @@.jessica;"Are... are those supposed to be hamsters?"@@ @@.samantha;"Guinea pigs,"@@ Samantha corrects without missing a beat. @@.samantha;"Show some respect."@@ Jessica makes a face like she's not entirely sure respect is the right response. @@.jessica;"It's... cute? I guess?"@@ @@.samantha;"And finally, this bad boy!"@@ Samantha says with flair, pulling out a bright pink anime tee with a smug-looking girl kicking over the word "GAME OVER YOU LOSE." Jessica physically recoils. @@.jessica;"Oh my God. That's certainly aggressive."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly,"@@ Samantha says, looking proud. @@.samantha;"This one says: 'I am chaos incarnate, and you can't stop me.'"@@ @@.jessica;"Or it says you lost a bet,"@@ Jessica mutters under her breath. Samantha ignores her, thrusting all three pieces into your arms with zero room for debate. @@.samantha;"Try them on, $name."@@ You stare at the stack in your hands, then back at her. @@.player;"All of them? Right now?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ Samantha says firmly, planting her hands on her hips. @@.samantha;"We are ''not'' leaving until we find out which one makes you look the least like you wandered in here by accident."@@ Jessica sighs but steps closer, curiosity clearly winning out over her disdain. @@.jessica;"Honestly... I kind of want to see this too."@@ You glance between the two of them—Jessica's expectant raised eyebrows, Samantha's unblinking determination—and realize there's no escape. @@.player;"I don't think—"@@ you start, but Samantha cuts you off by grabbing your wrist and dragging you toward the fitting rooms. @@.samantha;"Nope. No excuses. You're doing this,"@@ she says, practically shoving you toward the nearest empty room. @@.samantha;"We are transforming you today. Character arc, remember?"@@ Jessica trails behind, shaking her head but clearly entertained. @@.jessica;"At least if you get stuck in one of those shirts, we'll call for help."@@ @@.player;"How generous,"@@ you mutter, clutching the clothes like a lifeline as Samantha pushes you inside the fitting room and yanks the curtain shut behind you. And just like that, you're alone with three shirts. <<button "Wear the tops" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Threadz 2">><</button>>

<<if $pants is 69 and $outfit is 69>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ <</if>>\ <<paperdoll>> <<button "Pink Graphic Tee">>\<<set $top to 13>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Butterfly Hoodie">>\<<set $top to 17>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Guinea Pig Shirt">>\<<set $top to 23>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<run Engine.show()>>\<</button>> <<button "Continue" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Threadz 3">><</button>>

You tug the curtains shut behind you and shift your weight, glancing down at the shirts draped over your arm. The tiny fitting room mirror is rimmed with chipped stickers—smiley faces, pixel hearts, and a ghost giving a thumbs up. It feels more like a closet than a changing room, but still weirdly comforting. You try the anime girl tee first. The pink practically //shouts// under the overhead light, and the chaotic design is even louder on your chest. For a second, you grimace. But then you realize it... actually kind of works. It's confident in its own strange way, like it knows it's over the top but doesn't care. The guinea pig shirt is next. It's the exact opposite: softer, gentler, warm in tone and even warmer in vibe. You smile without meaning to. It's so dumb. Like, painfully so. But you like it. Then the hoodie. It slides on like it's already yours. Oversized, but not in a bad way. The butterfly rests right over your heart, and something about it makes you pause. You pull the hood up for a second and glance in the mirror. You look like someone you might be okay being. You hear a knock at the wall. @@.boy;"All good in there?"@@ Ash calls. @@.boy;"Heads-up, by the way—we're doing ten-dollar graphics today. Hoodies, tees, all of it."@@ You blink. @@.player;"All of it?"@@ @@.boy;"Yup,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"Clearance push. Manager's order. It's basically a steal."@@ You glance back at the three items. Only ten bucks each. You could actually get more than one without your wallet screaming. You turn back to the mirror, heart tugging between impulse and logic. <<button "Buy something" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Threadz 4">><</button>>

<<if $topUnlock[13] isnot true and $topUnlock[17] isnot true and $topUnlock[23] isnot true>>\ The fitting room curtain shushes closed behind you as you emerge, fully dressed once again in the same clothes you were wearing when you entered.The three potential new additions to your wardrobe are neatly draped over your arm. Samantha perks up the second she sees you. She's seated dramatically on a bench near the accessory wall, spinning a choker around one finger like a villain awaiting news of a conquest. @@.samantha;"So?"@@ she asks, eyes bright. @@.samantha;"What's the verdict? Which one's coming home with you? Or don't tell me—you're buying //all// of them. Bold. I respect it."@@ You hesitate. Then sigh. @@.player;"Sam, I don't think I'm gonna get any of them."@@ For one full second, there's silence. Her face falls in a way that's so exaggerated it circles right back around to funny. @@.samantha;"What?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"They just didn't feel right. I don't know."@@ @@.samantha;"But you looked good in them! The hoodie gave you mysterious loner energy. The guinea pig shirt was quirky. And the pink one? It was practically daring the world to fight you."@@ @@.player;"I don't //want// the world to fight me,"@@ you say, placing down the tops gently. @@.player;"I want the world to leave me alone and maybe offer me a pretzel."@@ Jessica, who has been idly examining a rack of studded scrunchies, finally turns to face you with a knowing smirk. @@.jessica;"See? This is exactly why I told you NovaTrend is better. Their clothes don't look like they're screaming for help."@@ Samantha spins on her. @@.samantha;"Excuse me? This isn't about you being right, Jessica. This is about me mourning the tragic death of $name's fashion potential."@@ @@.jessica;"I don't know about tragic,"@@ Jessica says, eyebrows raised. @@.jessica;"I think $name just has taste."@@ @@.samantha;"Bad taste,"@@ Samantha shoots back. @@.jessica;"Better than that shirt,"@@ Jessica retorts, nodding toward the bright pink anime graphic tee. You hold up your hands. @@.player;"Uh, hey. Remember me? The person actually wearing the clothes you're insulting?"@@ @@.samantha;"You were supposed to emerge from this store, reborn, $name. A butterfly in a graphic tee. Not a—"@@ she waves vaguely at you @@.samantha;"—sad little caterpillar."@@ Jessica snorts. @@.jessica;"You're being dramatic."@@ @@.samantha;"Dramatic?"@@ Samantha asks. @@.samantha;"Jessica. This is me being restrained."@@ Jessica laughs, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"If this is restrained, I'd hate to see unrestrained."@@ @@.samantha;"Ugh, I was ''so'' ready for you to buy those,"@@ Samantha groans. @@.samantha;"You could've been iconic."@@ @@.player;"I don't think I'm built for iconic,"@@ you say. Jessica tilts her head thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"Not with that attitude."@@ Samantha perks up slightly. @@.samantha;"See? That's the energy I wanted from you. Thank you, Jessica. You get it. You get //me//."@@ Jessica smiles sweetly. @@.jessica;"I get that you're being ridiculous."@@ @@.samantha;"Shut up,"@@ Samantha says, but there's no bite to her words. You glance over to the front of the store where Ash, the blue-haired employee, is currently trying to force a mannequin into a crop top. His focus is so intense you almost feel bad for returning everything. @@.player;"Come on,"@@ you say, motioning toward the exit. @@.player;"Let's get out of here before Ash adds me to a wall of shame."@@ Samantha sighs, standing and dramatically trailing her fingers along the sleeve of a graphic tee. @@.samantha;"Goodbye, my sweet store. We could've had something beautiful."@@ @@.player;"Stop being weird,"@@ you say automatically. @@.samantha;"Never,"@@ she replies with a grin, and somehow, you believe her. <<else>>\ You step out of the fitting room with the clothes folded neatly over one arm, your hair slightly mussed and a strange lightness in your chest that you can't quite explain. Samantha is waiting just outside, leaning dramatically against a rack of crop tops like she's about to faint from hunger or boredom. The moment she sees you, she perks up. @@.samantha;"Sooooo? Spill. Did the butterfly speak to you? Did the guinea pigs whisper their secrets? Did the anime girl tell you to embrace chaos?"@@ You give her a look. @@.player;"It wasn't that deep."@@ @@.samantha;"It was //absolutely// that deep,"@@ she insists. @@.samantha;"You decided to buy something. I can feel it. You have the face."@@ @@.player;"The face?"@@ you repeat, raising a brow. @@.samantha;"The face of someone who has accepted the chaos and is ready to ascend,"@@ she says, dead serious before breaking into a grin. @@.samantha;"You did it. You actually did it!"@@ Jessica, who has been idly examining a rack of studded scrunchies, rolls her eyes. @@.jessica;"Ugh. Another one lost to skater culture."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"It's not skater culture."@@ @@.jessica;"Uh, it's Threadz,"@@ Jessica fires back. @@.jessica;"That's literally their whole vibe."@@ @@.samantha;"You take that back,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"This isn't //just// 'skater culture.' This is so much more than that."@@ Jessica laughs, holding her hands up in surrender. @@.jessica;"Okay, okay, fair. I'm just saying that it's definitely a look."@@ She steps closer, glancing at the tops tucked under your arm, her expression softening a little. @@.jessica;"But honestly? All that matters is that you like it. Wear whatever feels like you."@@ @@.samantha;"See?"@@ Samantha says, jabbing a finger in Jessica's direction. @@.samantha;"She likes it. She's just being judgy for sport."@@ Jessica rolls her eyes with a smile. @@.jessica;"I can't say you're entirely wrong."@@ You shake your head, glancing between the two of them. @@.player;"I feel like I'm the prize in some weird fashion-themed custody battle."@@ @@.samantha;"That's because you are,"@@ Samantha says, then grins. @@.samantha;"But at least you're a prize with better clothes now."@@ You make your way to the front, where Ash nods solemnly at your selections. @@.boy;"A fine haul. Let's get you cashed out."@@ The register beeps as he scans your selections—though he doesn't comment on what you chose, only gives you a small, knowing smile like he gets it. @@.boy;"That'll be—"@@ he pauses to tap a few buttons, @@.boy;"a very reasonable number for the identity crisis you just resolved."@@ You pull out your phone and tap it against the reader. The little //ding// of confirmation feels more satisfying than it should. Behind you, Samantha lets out a soft, triumphant @@.samantha;"yes"@@ under her breath. Ash hands you the bag. @@.boy;"May these garments bring you emotional stability and drip."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Thanks?"@@ @@.boy;"Go forth and slay, or whatever people say nowadays,"@@ he says, then immediately trips over a lanyard on the floor and yells, @@.boy;"I meant to do that."@@ Jessica gives your shoulder a quick squeeze as you head toward the door. @@.jessica;"Different is good. That's how you figure out what really fits."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly!"@@ Samantha beams, smirking. @@.samantha;"My little fashion caterpillar is finally learning to crawl."@@ @@.player;"Please don't call me that,"@@ you groan, but you can't help the small smile tugging at your mouth as they usher you back into the mall's buzz. <</if>>\ <<if $jessfirst is true>>\ <<button "Make your way back to the central area" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 16">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Now go to NovaTrend" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica NovaTrend">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $jessfirst is true>>\ You barely make it ten steps from NovaTrend before Samantha exhales like she's finally been freed from captivity. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ she says, tucking her hands into her pockets, @@.samantha;"now we get to go to to the //good// store."@@ Jessica, on your other side, doesn't miss a beat. @@.jessica;"If by 'good' you mean the one that smells like energy drinks and spray paint, sure,"@@ she says, brushing an imaginary speck off her sleeve. @@.jessica;"At least we went to NovaTrend first."@@ Samantha rolls her eyes, but doesn't rise to the bait, just smirking as she walks a little faster. @@.samantha;"You'll live. In fact, you might even like it."@@ @@.player;"You two just gonna fight the whole way there?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"Probably,"@@ Jessica says lightly. @@.samantha;"Only if she keeps being wrong,"@@ Samantha adds. You shake your head and keep walking, but it doesn't take along until you spot Threadz. Samantha's grin widens. @@.samantha;"Finally,"@@ she says simply, picking up the pace as you all head toward the entrance. @@.jessica;"Let's just get this over with,"@@ Jessica says. <<else>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ The moment the words @@.player;"Threadz first"@@ leave your mouth, Samantha reacts like you just handed her a winning lottery ticket. @@.samantha;"YES!"@@ she shouts, throwing both fists in the air, startling a passing family of four. @@.samantha;"My best friend, $name Yoon, chooses culture!"@@ She pins on her heel dramatically, pointing toward the store like some chaotic anime protagonist. @@.samantha;"To Threadz we go! You won't regret this. Probably."@@ Jessica groans beside you, dragging out the sound like it physically pains her. @@.jessica;"Ugh. Threadz? Really? Who even shops there?"@@ She squints at the storefront like it personally insulted her. @@.jessica;"It looks like a clearance rack at a punk concert threw up and someone decided to sell the results."@@ @@.samantha;"That's the point!"@@ Samantha fires back, eyes sparkling with unholy glee. @@.samantha;"It's art. It's rebellion. It's where we go to reject beige cardigans and emotional stability."@@ @@.jessica;"Okay, rude,"@@ Jessica states. @@.jessica;"Beige cardigans can be cute if you style them correctly."@@ @@.samantha;"You would say that,"@@ Samantha mutters with a smirk, already speed-walking toward the glowing chaos ahead. <<if $acceptance > 19>>\ @@.jessica;"Don't be jealous just because I have taste,"@@ Jessica quips, tossing her hair as she follows. She suddenly pauses, walks back next to you, then lowers her voice. @@.jessica;"Threadz, $name? Seriously? You don't even own eyeliner yet."@@ <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"Don't be jealous just because I have taste,"@@ Jessica quips, tossing her hair as she follows. She suddenly pauses, walks back next to you, then lowers her voice. @@.jessica;"Threadz, $name? Seriously? You don't even own eyeliner."@@ <</if>>\ You shrug, hands in your pockets. @@.player;"Samantha seemed passionate. And, you know, she scares me a little when she's passionate."@@ Jessica giggles. @@.jessica;"Fair."@@ <</if>>\ Threadz hits you the second you step in. The music is a wall of fuzzy synth and punchy drums—somewhere between alt-pop and a caffeine overdose. The lighting's even harsher than the mall—bright overhead fluorescents that buzz faintly and wash everything in a slightly-too-white glow. The air smells like a mix of synthetic cotton, body spray, and something sharp that might be deodorant—or regret. Samantha practically skips inside. @@.samantha;"Oh my God. I'm home,"@@ she sighs, throwing her arms out like she's entering a holy space. @@.samantha;"Threadz, my beloved. You smell like chaos and social anxiety."@@ You glance around, still catching up. @@.player;"It's like if the internet had a very enthusiastic child."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly!"@@ she beams, spinning slightly on her heel. @@.samantha;"Threadz doesn't make clothes, $name. It makes ''statements''. Like, this place understands that sometimes you need to dress like a cartoon character having a crisis."@@ And honestly, she fits in perfectly. Her usual outfit could've walked straight off one of the mannequins: layered striped sleeves under a graphic tee, baggy high-waisted jeans cinched with a yellow "CAUTION: KEEP OUT" keychain belt, chunky sneakers with mismatched laces, and a beanie pinned with a smiley face and an alien. She's not trying to match the store—she simply //is// the store. Like some walking ambassador for chaos with charm. Jessica leans toward you and mutters, @@.jessica;"I swear, she becomes louder in here."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, it's like her natural habitat,"@@ you say, snorting. She holds up a mesh long-sleeve top and wiggles her eyebrows. @@.samantha;"This, but over a tank top, under a denim vest, with plaid pants and combat boots?"@@ Jessica wrinkles her nose. @@.jessica;"Wow. What a bad combo,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Bad combo?"@@ Samantha asks. @@.samantha;"This is the ''best'' combo. It's chaos and creativity. It's middle fingers and mall food. It's—"@@ she flings her arms out dramatically @@.samantha;"—Threadz."@@ Before Jessica can retort, a guy with chipped black nail polish and hair dyed a violent shade of blue pops up behind a stack of tees. His name tag reads: "Ash (he/him) - Certified Chaos Consultant." @@.boy;"Let me know if you start spiraling about which graphic tee defines your soul,"@@ he says, voice perfectly flat. @@.samantha;"ASH!"@@ Samantha lights up. @@.samantha;"You're working today?!"@@ Ash smirks faintly. @@.boy;"Back again to haunt the racks, huh?"@@ @@.samantha;"Obviously,"@@ Samantha says with zero shame. @@.samantha;"You act like I have other hobbies."@@ Jessica's mouth drops open. @@.jessica;"Wait, hold up."@@ She points between the two of them like she's piecing together a conspiracy. @@.jessica;"How do you even know each other?"@@ Ash glances over at Jessica for the first time, his smirk turning mischievous. @@.boy;"Did you bring your normie friends here, Sam?"@@ Jessica bristles, caught between offense and trying not to look offended. @@.jessica;"Normie? Excuse me?"@@ @@.boy;"Relax,"@@ Ash says, shrugging lazily as he starts refolding a shirt, like he didn't just drop a grenade in the conversation. @@.boy;"It's not an insult. Just an observation."@@ Samantha laughs, clapping Ash on the shoulder. @@.samantha;"Yeah, I brought them. But they're cool. Even Jessica."@@ @@.jessica;"//Even// me?"@@ Jessica asks, blinking. @@.samantha;"Especially you,"@@ Samantha adds sweetly, but the glint in her eyes says she's enjoying this far too much. You can't help but laugh, half at Jessica's incredulous expression and half at the way Samantha looks like she just scored points in an invisible game only she's playing. Jessica sighs, muttering under her breath, @@.jessica;"I cannot believe I agreed to this,"@@ but you catch the small upward curve of her lips. Ash looks at you then, deadpan but with a weirdly inviting edge. @@.boy;"So, you ready to find the one shirt in here that'll reveal your soul? Or are you just here to watch her,"@@ he tilts his head at Samantha, @@.boy;"perform her usual Threadz pilgrimage?"@@ You raise your hands in mock defense. @@.player;"Honestly? Still figuring that out."@@ The chaotic Threadz energy is working exactly as intended. <<button "Try some tops on" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica Threadz 1">><</button>>

<<if $jessicaRelo > 29>>\ <<grantAchievement "ShoppingSamanthaJessica">>\ <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ You scroll through your contacts until you land on Jessica's name, and somehow, it doesn't feel like a ridiculous idea. You've been talking to her more lately—between cheer practice, homeroom, and those weirdly easy conversations you've been having, it's starting to feel... natural. She's Jessica, sure, queen bee of Pacific Crest, but she's also just Jessica, someone who laughs too loud when she's tired and complains about her classes under her breath like the rest of you. It's weird, but comforting. <<else>>\ You scroll through your contacts until you land on Jessica's name, and somehow, it doesn't feel like a ridiculous idea. You've been talking to her more lately—between homeroom, running into her at lunch, and those weirdly easy conversations you've been having, it's starting to feel... natural. She's Jessica, sure, queen bee of Pacific Crest, but she's also just Jessica, someone who laughs too loud when she's tired and complains about her classes under her breath like the rest of you. It's weird, but comforting. <</if>>\ You hit call before you can overthink it. The phone barely rings once before she picks up. @@.jessica;"$name? Hey!"@@ Her voice is warm and bright, not the default polished tone she uses in front of everyone else. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, trying to sound casual. @@.player;"So, uh... Samantha and I are going shopping today. Clothes shopping. She, uh... said my wardrobe's a disaster."@@ Jessica laughs immediately, no hesitation, and it's the kind of laugh that makes you grin just hearing it. @@.jessica;"She's not wrong, you know."@@ You recall your usual outfit—white T-shirt, cargo shorts, beat-up Converses—and grimace. @@.player;"Yeah, I figured you'd say that."@@ @@.jessica;"Oh no, $name, I don't think you get it,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"You need an intervention. Like... desperately. You cannot keep showing up to places looking like you're about to mow someone's lawn."@@ You roll your eyes, but you're laughing too. @@.player;"Wow. Harsh."@@ @@.jessica;"Accurate,"@@ she corrects, still laughing. @@.jessica;"But okay, go on. What's your pitch?"@@ @@.player;"Well,"@@ you start, leaning back against your bedframe. @@.player;"I was thinking maybe you'd wanna come? Help me pick out something... not lawn-mowing style?"@@ There's no pause, no hesitation. @@.jessica;"Yes. Oh my God, yes. I was literally ''dreading'' spending another day doing absolutely nothing, so this is perfect."@@ You blink, caught off guard by how quick she agreed. @@.player;"Really? You're sure?"@@ @@.jessica;"Are you kidding? This sounds way more fun than pretending to be productive."@@ Her voice softens a little, losing that automatic brightness she usually has around others. @@.jessica;"Honestly... I kinda needed an excuse to get out of the house anyway."@@ Something about that makes you smile. @@.player;"Cool. Glad I could rescue you from the horrors of doing nothing."@@ @@.jessica;"Hero of the day,"@@ she says dryly, but you can hear the smile in her voice. Then she hesitates. @@.jessica;"Wait, you said Samantha's coming too, right? I don't... really //know// her."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"She's Samantha. Super sarcastic, kind of a tomboy, doesn't care for much. But she's great once you get used to her."@@ Jessica hums thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"So basically the polar opposite of me."@@ @@.player;"Pretty much,"@@ you say with a laugh. There's a pause, then she says, @@.jessica;"You think she'll be okay with me coming? I don't wanna intrude or make it weird."@@ @@.player;"She'll be fine,"@@ you reassure her. @@.player;"I mean, she'll probably make fun of me, but that's kind of her default setting."@@ That gets a little laugh out of her. @@.jessica;"Okay, I'm in. Just give me a little bit to get ready and I'll drive over."@@ You sit up a little straighter, grinning despite yourself. @@.player;"Awesome. Thanks, Jessica."@@ @@.jessica;"Please. If anything, I should be thanking you. Finally, I get to save you from your tragic wardrobe choices."@@ She's teasing again, but there's a playful energy to it. @@.player;"See you soon."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, see you soon,"@@ she echoes and then the call ends. You sit there for a moment, staring at your phone with a stupid grin on your face. You hadn't expected her to say yes so quickly. The room feels a little lighter now, and suddenly, you're actually looking forward to this trip. Now you just need to call Samantha. And maybe, just maybe, brace yourself for her reaction when she finds out you invited Jessica. <<button "Call Samantha" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha & Jessica 1">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ You stare at your phone for a long, long time before you actually do anything with it. Thumb hovering over Jessica's name like it might bite you if you press down. It's stupid—you barely even talk to her outside of school. Sure, she's nice when she wants to be, but she's Jessica. ''The'' Jessica. Cheer captain. Queen of Pacific Crest High. Inviting her to go shopping with you and Samantha feels like punching above your weight. Still, it wouldn't hurt to ask someone else. Somehow, for some reason, Jessica had been the first name in your head. Maybe because she always seems so... together. Like she'd know what to say if you didn't. You swallow, hit call, and suddenly it's ringing. Once. Twice. Three times. You're a second away from hanging up when— @@.jessica;"Hello?"@@ Her voice is light and perfectly rehearsed, the kind of friendly that feels like it could be meant for anyone. @@.player;"Hey, Jessica. It's, um. $name. From homeroom?"@@ There's a pause, a beat too long for comfort. @@.jessica;"Oh,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Yeah, $name! Hey! What's up?"@@ You rub at the back of your neck even though she can't see you. @@.player;"Uh, so, I was gonna go shopping today. With Samantha. Just, you know, clothes and stuff."@@ You laugh, but it's awkward. @@.player;"I thought... maybe you'd wanna come and hang out? No big deal or anything."@@ Another pause. A soft inhale like she's smiling even if you can't see it. @@.jessica;"Oh. Today?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah. Right now, actually. If you're free, of course."@@ There's that little hum—noncommital, buying time. @@.jessica;"Mm. Actually... I kinda have a lot going on today. Like, plans. Y'know?"@@ Plans. Sure. The way she says it is too easy, too practiced, like someone who's excused herself from things before. @@.player;"Right,"@@ you say, even though your throat feels tighter than it should. @@.player;"No worries. Just thought I'd ask."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, totally. I appreciate it, though!"@@ she says quickly, like she needs to make it sound extra kind so you don't feel rejected. @@.jessica;"Maybe some other time?"@@ You force a laugh. @@.player;"Yeah. Some other time."@@ @@.jessica;"Well, have fun today!"@@ she says with that perfectly cheerful tone, and then the line goes dead. You stare at your phone for a moment longer than necessary, like maybe she'll call you back and change her mind. Of course she doesn't. Why would she? You're not close. You're not in her world. And for some reason that you can't quite name, that stings more than it should. You toss your phone onto your bed and sit there in the quiet. Guess you'll have to go with someone else. <<button "Ask your mom" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom">>\<<set $d18shop to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D18_shop" "Ask your mom" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask your mom and Lily" "Day 18 - Shopping Mom & Lily">>\<<set $d18shop to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D18_shop" "Ask your mom and Lily" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask Samantha" "Day 18 - Shopping Samantha">>\<<set $d18shop to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D18_shop" "Ask Samantha" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src = "img/bg/school-gymd.png"> The school bell rings out sharp and final at 3:00 PM, echoing through the corridors of Pacific Crest High School like the starting gun of something big. Students flood the halls immediately. Some are rushing home, but most are getting ready to head to the Homecoming game. You tighten the strap on your backpack, take one last breath of the classroom air, and start making your way toward the gym. Your footsteps echo against the polished floor as you navigate the crowd. There's a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a certain weight that comes with these big events. You pass clusters of students decked out in the school colors, black and cyan, while others bring signs out of their lockers. Some are even gossiping about who's going to be crowned king and queen tomorrow. Everyone's buzzing. But you've got a different priority. By the time you reach the back room door, most of the stragglers have peeled off. You push it open with a soft creak, and the familiar scent of wood and gym mats hits you instantly. There, standing around, are the girls. //Your// girls. Your squad. Jessica's pacing a little, arms crossed, her brows furrowed with the kind of tension only she can carry. She glances up the second she hears you. @@.jessica;"Oh, thank God,"@@ she says, letting out a breath. @@.jessica;"You're here."@@ Mia is the first to speak after her, playing with her hair with that ever-present smug grin. @@.girl;"Cutting it a little close, aren't we? What, did you forget where to meet?"@@ Ashley, standing beside her with a calm expression and arms folded neatly, gives you a nod. @@.girl;"We were starting to think you'd change your mind."@@ @@.player;"I was, like, two minutes late,"@@ you say, dropping your bag and exhaling. @@.jessica;"You're not late,"@@ Jessica cuts in, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"You're just the last piece of the puzzle. Which means now we can actually start."@@ Tori spins around with a little flourish, her uniform with a few personalized patches that you think is against school policy. @@.girl;"And not a moment too soon! I already had a vision of us forgetting the Macarena in front of the whole school. It was scary."@@ Jessica ignores that. @@.jessica;"Okay, listen up. This is the Homecoming game. There's going to be parents, teachers, alumni, cameras, phones, and a LOT more. We need to be clean, sharp, and together. No missteps."@@ Her eyes land on you again. @@.jessica;"I need you to be solid tonight, $name. You were amazing last time, but this one ''really'' matters."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Got it."@@ Jessica nods back, seemingly reassured. @@.jessica;"Alright. Locker rooms. Get changed. Hair, check. Stretch, hydrate. Then we're gonna run through the whole thing."@@ As the others start grabbing their water bottles and stretching, you make your way toward the restroom. But before you can disappear behind the door, Jessica calls out to you again. @@.jessica;"Oh, makeup,"@@ she says, lifting a small clear pouch of supplies. @@.jessica;"We've got time for the basics. Or you can go with none. Up to you."@@ You pause with your hand on the door, considering. <<button "Decide on makeup" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 2">>\<<set $d19makeup to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_cheer_makeup" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Decide on no makeup" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 2">>\<<set $d19makeup to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_cheer_makeup" false "story">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "Game2CheerWin">>\ The fourth quarter ticks on, and with each passing minute, it becomes more and more obvious: this game is over. The Sierra Heights Wolves are clearly winded. Their bodies are slumped, their plays run slower, and their passes wobble. Meanwhile, the Pacific Crest Panthers are still riding the high of that massive halftime lead, coasting on adrenaline and confidence. The scoreboard tells the story in glaring numbers: 42-16. Even the crowds have shifted in energy. The home crowd is loud and excited, the nervous edge that was there earlier completely gone. Parents cheer with wide grins, a couple of kids near the back row have started a conga line, and someone's tossing glow sticks into the stands. The away crowd, on the other hand, have already started heading out. From your place near the sideline, the cheer squad's pom-poms rustle softly at your sides as you take it all in. Jessica's practically bouncing in place beside you. @@.jessica;"This is it,"@@ she whispers, her voice almost disbelieving. @@.jessica;"We're actually gonna do it."@@ The clock winds down to less than a minute, and Pacific Crest doesn't even bother pushing. They kneel with the ball, running down the clock steadily as the crowd counts it down out loud. Even the announcer's voice has gone relaxed. @@.boy;"And with that final kneel, folks, we are just seconds away from an undeniable win for the Pacific Crest Panthers. What a show tonight, both on the field and from the cheer squad. Thank you all for coming out! This has been a night to remember."@@ 5 4 3 2 1 ''BUZZ'' The place erupts. Airhorns, clapping, screams, whistles. The marching band bursts into a triumphant fanfare as everyone leaps to their feet. The bleachers literally shake under the weight of all the jumping and cheering. @@.boy;"And that's it! Final Score, 42-16! Pacific Crest takes the win for their 2024 Homecoming Game!"@@ Confetti starts falling. Black and blue streamers catch the field lights as they drift downward like little sparks. You don't know where it came from, but you're not questioning it. @@.jessica;"Let's go!"@@ Jessica shouts, practically dragging the rest of the squad forward as players begin forming up. You all race toward the middle of the field, where the squad has started lining up, shoulder to shoulder. It's time for the victory tunnel. The cheerleaders form a tunnel with their arms. The football players line up in the center, helmets off now, sweaty and grinning. Some of the guys crouch down, slapping hands and screaming encouragement to each other. You're between Tori and Ashley, both of them breathless yet still buzzing with energy. Tori nudges you with her elbow. @@.girl;"We crushed it,"@@ she says, still glowing. Jessica steps into place at the head of the line, lifts her arms, and calls it: @@.jessica;"Let's welcome our Panthers!"@@ The whole team begins streaming through the tunnel. Players sprint, laugh, and howl with the high of the wind. The cheer squad whoops and cheers every time someone passes through. You feel a pulse of pride, a certain joy of being part of something. Under the lights, in the electric night, you smile wide without even thinking. Tonight feels like it's yours. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 11">><</button>>

The field is still alive with leftover energy, students and parents swarming the field, laughter and cheers echoing under the night sky. The lights blaze overhead, throwing long shadows across the celebration as football players wrap up high-fives, chest bumps, and group photos. The squad clusters up near the sidelines as you all catch your breath, exchange smiles, and bask in the afterglow of the performance. You barely have time to drink some water before Luke barrels over, sweaty and ecstatic, his helmet tucked under his arm. @@.luke;"Let's gooo!"@@ he yells, throwing his helmet off into the distance. @@.luke;"We destroyed them! We obliterated them! This is historic."@@ You laugh. @@.luke;"And we're not even done! You know what this calls for?"@@ Luke's eyes are practically glowing. @@.luke;"After party!"@@ A few other players echo the call. @@.boy;"After party!"@@ @@.boy;"Where we going?"@@ @@.boy;"Fuck yes."@@ Jessica, retying her ponytail, turns toward him. @@.jessica;"There's already a party tomorrow night. You know, the actual Homecoming one?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, duh, but that's tomorrow,"@@ Luke says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. @@.luke;"You gotta celebrate the win on the day of the win. It's science."@@ Tori pipes up from beside you, twirling a strand of her blue hair. @@.girl;"He's not wrong. Tonight's got the vibes."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ Luke says, clapping Tori on the back. @@.luke;"Tori gets it. And besides, tomorrow will be all suits and slow dances. Tonight is for yelling and fries."@@ Jessica glances at Mia, who just shrugs in that smug way of hers, like she's not opposed but isn't going to suggest anything either. Ashley crosses her arms. @@.girl;"Where would we even go?"@@ There's a brief pause as everyone looks at each other, clearly not having thought that far ahead. @@.boy;"Not my house,"@@ someone mutters. @@.girl;"Too loud for my place,"@@ another adds. Luke snaps his fingers. @@.luke;"How about the bowling alley?"@@ @@.girl;"Ooh!"@@ Tori exclaims, perking up. @@.girl;"Velocity Lanes?"@@ Ashley raises a brow. @@.girl;"It's like ten minutes away."@@ @@.luke;"It's the best,"@@ Luke insists. @@.luke;"They've got snacks, light, music, and even a slushie machine. It doesn't work half the time, but it's there."@@ Jessica hesitates. @@.jessica;"I don't know..."@@ @@.luke;"Oh, come on,"@@ Luke groans. @@.luke;"Jessica, we earned this. One chill night with greasy food and horrible music. What's the worst that could happen?"@@ As the cheer squad exchanges glances, nods start to form. Tori's already texting someone. Mia doesn't say anything, but she's smirking, which probably means she's in. Then, a voice from the edge: @@.jordan;"I'll probably just head home."@@ You all turn to see Jordan, arms crossed, backpack already slung over one shoulder. He's clearly showered and changed while the rest of you were still out celebrating. His voice is quiet, but firm, like he's already made up his mind. @@.luke;"Wait, what?"@@ Luke frowns. @@.luke;"Bro, no. You're the team captain! You ''have'' to come."@@ @@.jessica;"You threw three touchdown passes,"@@ Jessica says, joining in. @@.jessica;"You can't leave now."@@ @@.jordan;"I'm tired,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"And I've got stuff to do."@@ Luke looks offended. @@.luke;"You can do stuff tomorrow. Tonight is for victory pizza."@@ @@.jordan;"I don't even like bowling,"@@ Jordan mutters. Tori gasps like he's just confessed to kicking puppies. @@.girl;"Blasphemy."@@ You step forward with a grin. @@.player;"Come on. Everyone was hyping you up twenty minutes ago. That kind of thing demands hot dogs and bad music."@@ Jordan hesitates, his eyes flicking across the group. Everyone's waiting on him now. Even Mia's looking at him expectantly, arms folded. Finally he lets out a sigh. @@.jordan;"...Fine."@@ @@.luke;"Woo!"@@ Luke pumps a fist. @@.luke;"Let's gooo! Bowling squad unite!"@@ @@.girl;"I'll win,"@@ Mia says, smirking. Tori gins. @@.girl;"Oh, it's so on."@@ The decision is made. Bags are slung over shoulders, text messages start flying, and a few people start yelling out ride arrangements. As the group begins to shuffle toward the parking lot, still riding the post-win high, you walk with the rest of your squad. Maybe tonight's not quite over after all. <<button "Bowling!" "Day 19 - Hangout 1">><</button>>

<<if $d19makeup is true>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I think I'll go for some makeup,"@@ you say. You take a seat on the small chair, your backpack at your feet and your palms lightly resting on your knees. Jessica stands in front of you and opens the pouch of makeup. The fluorescent lighting hums above, casting a pale glow over everything, but Jessica seems unfazed. @@.jessica;"You sure?"@@ she asks one last time, tilting her head slightly. @@.jessica;"It's nothing fancy, just basic stuff to keep things polished."@@ @@.player;"I'm sure,"@@ you say, already closing your eyes. @@.player;"Let's do it."@@ She doesn't say anything right away, just takes a step closer. You can't see what's happening, but you can feel it. Her fingertips gently brushing across your cheekbone, the soft tap of a sponge, and the hush of a brush. It's quiet. With your eyes closed, the world narrows. You hear the squeak of sneakers and the sound of giggling in the distance. And then you hear her voice. @@.jessica;"I'm really nervous about this one,"@@ Jessica says quietly, like she wasn't planning on saying it out loud. You don't move. You don't want to interrupt. You just listen. @@.jessica;"I mean, I know I always get kind of intense before games,"@@ she continues, voice soft and low. @@.jessica;"But this one's different. It's Homecoming. That's, like, ''the'' game, you know? People remember what happens tonight. They talk about it. Post about it. It's not just students. It's everyone. Parents, alumni, board members, faculty... and if we mess up, they're not gonna forget it."@@ She dabs something near your temple, then smooths it out with a careful touch. @@.jessica;"I keep thinking about how if the team starts losing, the energy's gonna tank. Everyone's gonna look to us to make it okay, to hype things back up. And if we're off?"@@ She exhales sharply. @@.jessica;"Then it's over. The whole thing feels like it's on us."@@ You open your mouth to respond, but she keeps going. @@.jessica;"And I know people think I'm supposed to be this... perfect leader or whatever. That I don't get nervous. That I'm confident. But sometimes I wake up on days like this and wonder who I really am. Am I really confident? Or have I just been faking it so well that everyone bought it."@@ Her hands are still. You can feel the warmth of her breath as she lingers close, her voice barely above a whisper. @@.jessica;"I just... I really, really want tonight to go right. Not just for me. For the team. For everyone."@@ You open your eyes slowly. Jessica's right in front of you, her expression unreadable, her hand still hovering near your face. Her usual perfect smile is nowhere to be seen. She lets out a quiet laugh, brushing some power off your cheek with her thumb. @@.jessica;"Wow. Sorry. That kind of spilled out."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"No, it's okay. I get it."@@ She steps back, slipping the sponge into the pouch and zipping it shut. @@.jessica;"Alright,"@@ she says, trying to recover her usual poise. @@.jessica;"You're good to go. Subtle, clean, cute. The $name special."@@ But you can't miss that there's a hint of vulnerability still hanging in the air between you. <<button "Hey. You've got this" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 3">>\<<set $d19jessromantic to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jess_romantic_support" false "story">><</button>> <<button "To me, you're already perfect" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 3">>\<<set $d19jessromantic to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jess_romantic_support" true "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ You give the makeup options a glance and decide, nah. Not today. @@.player;"No makeup,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm good like this."@@ Jessica studies your face for a second, tilting her head just slightly like she's imagining you with eyeliner. But then she just nods, seemingly satisfied. @@.jessica;"Alright then,"@@ she says, voice brisk but warm. @@.jessica;"Go get ready."@@ But before you can even take a full step, her voice cuts in. @@.jessica;"...Thanks, by the way. I really appreciate what you're doing, $name."@@ You glance back at her. She's not smiling wide or anything, but the gratitude's there. In her voice and in her eyes. You smile just a little. @@.player;"Of course."@@ And with that, you head into the restroom to change, the hum of the gym behind you, and the pressure of the night slowly building. Homecoming is waiting. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 4">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d19jessromantic is true>>\ <<if $transgender > 14 and $acceptance > 19>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You sit still for a beat, the warmth of Jessica's hand just fading from your skin, the smell of powder lingering faintly in the air between you. She's turned away slightly now, fixing her ponytail. You know you should just thank her and head out to change. You ''know'' that. But something about the moment holds you there. So you say it. @@.player;"To me, you're already perfect."@@ The words come out smooth, but your heart stumbles a little. You feel the air shift. Jessica's hand pauses mid-motion. Slowly, she turns to look at you. Her expression, surprisingly, softens. @@.jessica;"You..."@@ she starts. Her eyes search your face, then linger—on your lips, your cheeks, the slight shimmer of the makeup she just put on you. A small smile plays on her lips. @@.jessica;"You're dangerous, you know that?"@@ @@.player;"Dangerous?"@@ you ask, breath catching. She shrugs a little. @@.jessica;"Saying stuff like that. Looking at me like that."@@ She pauses, just long enough to feel the weight of her gaze. @@.jessica;"You make it really hard not to like you."@@ You feel your ears go hot. It's not a confession, sure, but it's not nothing either. The moment holds, delicate and warm and just a little electric. Then she breaks it with a breathy laugh, brushing her fingers down your sleeve. @@.jessica;"Go change before I start thinking you did that on purpose."@@ You smile, cheeks aching in the best way. @@.player;"Alright, alright. I'll be back in five."@@ You grab your backpack and head toward the restroom, still feeling the ghost of her fingers on your face. The gym door swings shut behind you, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Your heart's still thudding, but it's not nerves this time. Not really. <<else>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ Your heart jumps ahead of your brain. You tilt your head, offering a soft smile, voice low and sure. @@.player;"To me, you're already perfect,"@@ you say. The words come out smoother than expected, but the moment after it is rougher than you're ready for. Jessica stiffens almost instantly. @@.jessica;"Oh,"@@ Jessica says, letting out a breathy chuckle. @@.jessica;"That's... sweet."@@ You can feel the air turn awkward. Jessica grabs a small mirror from her bag, holding it out to you without looking. @@.jessica;"Here. You can check your makeup if you want."@@ You take it quietly, eyes dropping. The blush looks fine. Everything does. Jessica turns away, smoothing her ponytail with a quick, practiced flick. @@.jessica;"You should probably get going. Still need to run the routine a couple more times."@@ You nod, standing up without a word. The bag slung over your shoulder feels heavier, somehow. @@.player;"I'll go change,"@@ you say simply, voice neutral. Jessica doesn't respond right away. She just gives a small nod, barely glancing over her shoulder. You step out of the room, the door closing softly behind you, your footsteps echoing down the hallway as you head for the restroom. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You've got this."@@ Your voice is calm and steady. Not loud or dramatic. Just... enough. Your eyes meet, and you let the words settle in the air between you, simple and honest. Jessica blinks, caught off guard for a second. Then, slowly, her posture eases. Her shoulders drop just slightly, the tension she didn't realize she was carrying slipping away. @@.jessica;"Thank you, $name,"@@ she says, earnestly. @@.jessica;"Seriously."@@ You give her a smile, brushing your palms on your thighs before standing. @@.player;"And thanks for the makeup,"@@ you say, giving a little nod toward the pouch she's just tucked away. @@.player;"I know we've got a lot to do, so thanks for making time."@@ Jessica waves a hand like it's nothing, but you can tell it meant something. @@.jessica;"It was the least I could do. You're part of the squad now."@@ @@.player;"I appreciate that,"@@ you say, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. @@.player;"Guess I better go get changed, then."@@ @@.jessica;"Go on,"@@ she says, already pulling out a clipboard. @@.jessica;"We've got formations to clean up and stunts to tighten, so don't disappear on me."@@ You shoot her a small salute as you turn and head off toward the locker room. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 4">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-gymd.png"> <<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ <<set $templowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarment>>\ <<set $tempshoes to $shoes>>\ <<set $top to 8>>\ <<if $d11skirt is true>>\ <<set $pants to 5>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $pants to 4>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $shoes to 1>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <<if $hairStyle is 0 and $hairProg > 1>>\ <<set $hairStyle to 1>>\ <<set $hairtie to $currenthairtie>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ You return to the gym, the cool air brushing your skin. Jessica spots you and gives a relieved exhale. @@.jessica;"Good,"@@ she says, flicking through her clipboard as the others gather. @@.jessica;"We've got a lot to go over."@@ You can tell that her cheer captain mode is fully engaged now. Mia twirls a strand of hair around her finger, smirking slightly. @@.girl;"Let me guess. Drills first?"@@ @@.jessica;"Routine first,"@@ Jessica corrects, already moving to the center of the gym floor. @@.jessica;"We're going from the top. Remember: tonight is Homecoming. We do not mess this up."@@ Ashley nods with a quiet focus. @@.girl;"Are the formations clean?"@@ @@.jessica;"Mostly,"@@ Jessica replies. @@.jessica;"Tori, I noticed that you were a half-step behind in the second transition. $name, you and Mia swap when we move into the V."@@ Tori hums, bouncing lightly on her toes. @@.girl;"Got it! Half-step behind."@@ You move into place, feeling the rush of adrenaline as you get ready. The routine starts. The first run-through is mostly smooth. There are some footwork slips, some timing hiccups, and Mia throwing in a hair flip that Jessica does ''not'' approve of. But overall, it holds together. You hit your marks, your muscle memory keeping you on track. Some confidence creeps back in by the time you land your final pose. Jessica claps once. @@.jessica;"Again. Sharper this time."@@ The second and third run go even smoother. You lose track of time, of how many times you hear the same chorus, of how many times Jessica repeats @@.jessica;"energy!"@@ Eventually, she lets out a breath and steps back. @@.jessica;"Alright. Break time. Five minutes."@@ You collapse onto the bleachers and wipe your forehead with the back of your arm. The rest of the squad fans out around the gym, drinking water or chatting. Still, there's ten minutes you can spend focusing on something before the performance. <<button "Focus on squad bond" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 5">>\<<set $d19cheerfocus to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_cheer_focus" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Focus on your presence" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 5">>\<<set $d19cheerfocus to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_cheer_focus" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Focus on your precision" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 5">>\<<set $d19cheerfocus to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_cheer_focus" 2 "story">><</button>> <<button "Focus on your stamina" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 5">>\<<set $d19cheerfocus to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D19_cheer_focus" 3 "story">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/school-gymd.png"> <<if $d19cheerfocus is 0>>\ <<set $csquadbond to Math.clamp($csquadbond + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You make your way toward Mia, Tori, and Ashley. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say as you flop down next to them, @@.player;"what do cheerleaders even talk about when we're not flipping through the air?"@@ Tori raises one hand dramatically like she's about to make a declaration. @@.girl;"Conspiracy theories,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Specifically: birds. Not real."@@ @@.girl;"You're still on that?"@@ Ashley asks, blinking. @@.girl;"Still right,"@@ Tori insists, waggling a finger. @@.girl;"The government—"@@ @@.girl;"Has better things to do than spy on you with pigeons,"@@ Mia cuts in with a sigh, examining her nails. @@.girl;"You say this every week, and I'm still waiting for a single piece of real evidence."@@ @@.girl;"I have a PowerPoint,"@@ Tori says. You grin. @@.player;"Of course you do."@@ Ashley arches a brow, leaning back slightly against the bleachers. @@.girl;"To be fair, even I've got to admit her PowerPoint game is solid. Last month it was about how vending machines are actually time portals."@@ @@.girl;"Okay, that one was more theoretical,"@@ Tori concedes. @@.girl;"I'm still testing it on my own. I've tried to get Aurora on board, but she keeps being all spooky. I have a whole system."@@ @@.girl;"Your 'system' is punching random combinations of numbers,"@@ Mia mutters. @@.girl;"That's science, though."@@ You chuckle, genuinely enjoying the absurdity of the conversation. @@.player;"Wait, what's the weirdest snack you've actually gotten from a vending machine?"@@ @@.girl;"Oh! Oh!"@@ Tori sits upright. @@.girl;"When I visited Japan, I did the test on the vending machine there. I just ended up getting a bag of pickled octopus, though."@@ Ashley looks mildly impressed. @@.girl;"That's kind of badass."@@ @@.girl;"It was terrible, I threw up,"@@ Tori adds brightly. @@.girl;"But badass, yeah."@@ @@.girl;"I got a single unwrapped peppermint once,"@@ Mia says dryly. @@.girl;"I was deeply offended. I just threw it away."@@ @@.player;"Was it glowing?"@@ you ask. @@.girl;"No, but it felt cursed,"@@ she replies, deadpan. You glance over at Ashley. @@.player;"Please tell me you've had a vending machine horror story too."@@ Ashley tilts her head, considering your words. @@.girl;"One time, I hit B4, but it gave me B5. That's about as wild as I get."@@ @@.girl;"Chaos,"@@ Tori mutters. You lean back on your hands, grinning. @@.player;"I think I'm starting to like these breaks more than the routines."@@ @@.girl;"Don't get used to it,"@@ Mia teases. @@.girl;"Jessica won't let us off easily."@@ As if summoned, Jessica's voice calls out from across the gym: @@.jessica;"Alright, squad! Break's over! Let's go."@@ You stand, dusting your hands off, and glance around at your teammates. Yeah. You're definitely not an outsider anymore. <<elseif $d19cheerfocus is 1>>\ <<set $cpresence to Math.clamp($cpresence + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You don't head for water. Not yet. Instead, you move back toward the center of the gym's basketball court. You plant yourself there, alone for a moment, and start walking through the routine again. You do just enough to think about your ''presence''. Jessica always says your motions need to go past your limbs. That the crowd doesn't just see your jumps or your formations—they see your face. The way you carry it all. The story you're telling in your smile. So, you try. You throw a clean combo, forcing a grin. But when you glance toward a mirror, you flinch. You don't look enthusiastic. You just look exhausted. Like someone trying way too hard to look like they're having fun. You try again. Your arms land in the right place, and your hair bounces with it, but your smile looks pained. It's as if you're grimacing. Like you're a few seconds away from losing breath, which is honestly not far from the truth. A small voice perks up from your side. @@.girl;"You look like that meme with that old guy smiling, but he actually looks like he's in agony. Hide the Pain Harold."@@ You turn to see Tori. You laugh once. @@.player;"I'm trying, okay?"@@ She props her chin up with one hand and lifts an eyebrow. @@.girl;"Trying's not the issue. You're just trying wrong. You don't force your face to smile. It's not like a button you push. You gotta think about something fun. Something good. You //feel// it first, then let your face catch up."@@ You blink. @@.player;"So... what am I meant to think about? Bunnies?"@@ @@.girl;"If bunnies work, sure,"@@ she says, shrugging. @@.girl;"What //I// imagine is that I'm a pop star and every single person in the crowd is secretly in love with me. Works like a charm."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Seriously?"@@ Tori shoots you finger guns. @@.girl;"Dead serious. Try it."@@ You sigh, but reset. This time, you picture something different. Not just hitting the move right, but owning the space. Letting the roar of the crowd swell in your mind. You imagine them reacting to //you//, not just foe formation. A tiny spark lights in your chest. And when you smile this time, it feels less fake. Still practiced, yeah, but it comes easier. Tori claps once, delighted. @@.girl;"There it is! I knew you had it in you, $name."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Seriously."@@ @@.girl;"No problem!"@@ she says, already skipping backward. @@.girl;"Just don't forget me when you're famous."@@ You barely have time to laugh before Jessica's voice cuts across the gym. @@.jessica;"Alright! Break's over! Let's go!"@@ You jog back with the others, your movements just a little looser now. <<elseif $d19cheerfocus is 2>>\ <<set $cprecision to Math.clamp($cprecision + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Everyone else is scattered, but your mind's stuck on that third sequence. Your arms lagged a beat during the ripple and you almost stumbled during the transition. You were close, but that isn't good enough. Especially not today. You push yourself off the bleachers and run the motions again, slower this time. One, two, three, arm sweep, twist, kick, four, five, six. You try again and again, but you can't quite get it right. @@.girl;"You're half a count early on the downbeat,"@@ a calm voice says nearby. @@.girl;"It's throwing off your finish."@@ You turn your head and see Ashley walking over. @@.girl;"You keep rushing after the wrist,"@@ she adds. @@.girl;"You need to breathe right before the kick. Here, lemme show you."@@ She steps in next to you and moves through the sequence. It's clear she's done it hundreds of times already. Every movement is sharp, clean, and unhurried. You try again beside her, mirroring the rhythm, and this time it flows better. She nods once, approving. @@.girl;"That's better. Let's do it again."@@ The two of you run it through a few more times. You fall into her tempo, and the routine begins to feel smoother. Less jagged around the edges. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, pausing between reps. @@.player;"Seriously. I've been trying to get that timing right since... I don't even know."@@ Ashley shrugs lightly. @@.girl;"That's what the squad is for. You're getting there."@@ @@.player;"Glad I've got you around to keep me from face-planting in front of half the school,"@@ you say, giving her a smile. @@.girl;"Oh, if you're still face-planting by game time, we've got bigger problems,"@@ she says with just the faintest glimmer of amusement in her voice. Before you can respond, Jessica's voice cuts across the gym. @@.jessica;"Alright! Break's over! Back on the floor!"@@ Ashley gives you one last nod and turns, jogging back to join the group. You take a second, bounce on your toes, and shake out your arms. You're feeling more grounded now. You've improved. The rhythm is there. You jog back into formation, ready for more. <<elseif $d19cheerfocus is 3>>\ <<set $cstamina to Math.clamp($cstamina + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You rise from the bleachers, taking a breath and stretching your arms above your head. You're not done yet. Not until you're sure you've got it in you to keep up for the entire game. You step onto the edge of the court and start to jog. Slow at first, then quicker. One lap. Two. Three. On your fifth lap, you pass Mia. She idly sips from a reusable water bottle while watching you with a smug little smirk. @@.girl;"Dedicated much?"@@ she calls, following you. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's Homecoming. I'm the newbie. Gotta do well today."@@ Mia tilts her head. @@.girl;"You're not wrong,"@@ she says, twisting her water bottle shut. @@.girl;"Still. Try not to pass out before the second quarter, yeah? Jessica won't be happy."@@ @@.player;"No promises,"@@ you say. Another lap. Your legs are burning now, but in a good way. You imagine the field later. The crowd. The energy. The moment. You can't run out of gas then. @@.jessica;"Alright!"@@ Jessica's voice rings through the gym. @@.jessica;"Break's over, everyone back together!"@@ You pull to a stop, rolling your shoulders back and brushing your bangs from your face. Your skin hums with effort, but your mind feels clear. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 6">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-footballa.png"> The gym air is thick with anticipation, the faint echo of sneakers on polished floors and the rustle of pom-poms still lingering in the air as Jessica brings everyone's attention to the center of the court. @@.jessica;"Alright, team,"@@ she says, scanning each of your faces. @@.jessica;"Practice is over. We're heading to the football field. Let's move."@@ You grab your water bottle and fall in with the others as the squad funnels through the door, the evening sun spilling in. Outside, the temperature has dipped just enough to tease the crisp edge of fall, the air filled with the sounds of pre-game setup. The stadium speakers are being tested, the band is practicing, and the concession stands are prepping food. Jessica leads at a steady pace, clipboard tucked under her arm. She's definitely in captain mode now, fully focused. She keeps glancing at her phone, then toward the stadium. You can tell the weight of the night is starting to settle in. The rest of the squad fans out as you reach the football field. From here, you can see the bleachers starting to populate with students and parents, the marching band turning up in the far corner, and players from both teams doing warm-ups under the floodlights. The game hasn't started yet, but the energy is definitely building. Jessica pauses just before the path branches off into the three main entrances to the field. She turns toward you, Mia, Tori, and Ashley. @@.jessica;"Alright. We've got fans starting to come in from all three sides, and the Arts and Crafts Club dropped off spirit items. Noise clappers, necklaces, mini flags, bracelets, all of it. We need to split up and man each of the entrances. Just smile, hand stuff out, and hype people up. We want everyone walking in feeling like this is ''the'' game of the year."@@ She gestures toward the canvas bags piled beside the gate, filled with all sorts of bright blue-and-black merch. @@.jessica;"Take a few and make sure to engage people. We need our crowd alive tonight."@@ Mia rolls her eyes, already slinging one of the totes over her shoulder. @@.girl;"Do I //have// to hype up freshmen? I'd rather hype up a brick wall."@@ @@.jessica;"You'll live,"@@ Jessica replies flatly. Ashley takes her bag wordlessly, adjusting the strap over one shoulder like she's about to head off on a solo mission. Tori is already rifling through her bag with glee. @@.girl;"They gave us glitter stickers again! Ooh, and the little foam fingers!"@@ Jessica points to the three stadium entrances in the distance: one by the parking lot, one by the school, and the main gate. @@.jessica;"Pick one and hold it down until kickoff."@@ The girls start to move out, scattering across the grass. You take a deep breath and glance at the three entrances. <<button "The parking lot entrance" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 7">>\<<set $d19cheerentrance to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_cheer_entrance" "game" "story">><</button>> <<button "The school entrance" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 7">>\<<set $d19cheerentrance to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_cheer_entrance" "school" "story">><</button>> <<button "The main entrance" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 7">>\<<set $d19cheerentrance to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_cheer_entrance" "main" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-footballa.png"> <<if $d19cheerentrance is 0>>\ The walk to the parking lot entrance is quieter than the other paths. Less chaos. More mellow. You pass a few early arrivals and make your way to Ashley. She has the tote bag slung over one shoulder like a fashion accessory. @@.girl;"Hey,"@@ she says, cool as ever, giving you a nod as you approach. @@.girl;"Thought you might pick this one."@@ You grin, grabbing a handful of blue necklaces from the bag. @@.player;"What gave it away?"@@ @@.girl;"You've got mellow energy,"@@ she says simply. @@.girl;"Figured you wouldn't pick the entrance with freshmen doing TikTok dances."@@ @@.player;"Fair."@@ You both fall into a rhythm—passing out spirit gear, offering polite smiles and an occasional "Go Panthers" as families, alumni, and staff trickle through. Ashley doesn't talk much at first, but her quiet presence isn't awkward. If anything, it's a little grounding. She's not like Tori, who lights up the space. Ashley just sort of //exists// in a solid way. That is until a new presence approaches. Aurora. She walks up slowly, her shoes silent against the pavement, the breeze tugging ever so slightly at her skirt. Her necklace shimmers slightly, almost as if they've absorbed too much moonlight. Her eyes flick lazily to Ashley, then land on you. She doesn't say anything at first. Just looks. And then, the smallest smirk curls at the edge of her lips. @@.aurora;"Hmm."@@ Just that. Hmm. Like she's already read everything about you and found it amusing. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, shifting awkwardly. Aurora tilts her head. @@.aurora;"Interesting."@@ Ashley tenses beside you. Aurora's gaze lingers on you for another beat before she adds, voice soft and vaguely amused, @@.aurora;"You wear it well."@@ Then, just like that, she turns on her heel and glides away, vanishing into the stands. You blink. @@.player;"What was that about?"@@ Ashley exhales slowly, and when you glance over, you realize her composure has cracked just a bit. Her brows are furrowed and there's a crease of unease between them. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she mutters. @@.girl;"I ''hate'' when she does that."@@ You squint at her. @@.player;"You're freaked out? That's new."@@ @@.girl;"She's the only person in this school that genuinely freaks me out,"@@ Ashley states, shaking her head. @@.girl;"I don't think you get it, $name. Aurora doesn't just pretend to know things. She really does know something that the rest of us don't."@@ @@.player;"Oh, I know she knows,"@@ you say, glancing in the direction Aurora disappeared. @@.player;"She's not that scary."@@ Ashley stares at you like you just said you wrestle bears for fun. @@.girl;"She //is// that scary."@@ You laugh softly. @@.player;"She's cryptic, yeah. But kind of cool."@@ Ashley frowns again. @@.girl;"That's how she gets you. You're lured in by the mysterious vibes and the next thing you know, you've been turned into a guinea pig."@@ You grin, amused by the rare glimpse of an off-balance Ashley. @@.player;"Well, at least she didn't hex us."@@ @@.girl;"Don't joke about it,"@@ Ashley says, groaning. @@.girl;"If I start levitating tonight, I'm blaming you."@@ The two of you share a laugh, although hers is more nervous than she'd probably like to admit. And just like that, the tension breaks, fading back into the hum of the pre-game rush. Fans keep arriving, and the stack of spirit merch slowly dwindles. Still, Aurora's voice lingers in your mind. @@.aurora;"You wear it well."@@ You're not sure if she knows or not, but you have a feeling you'll find out. <<elseif $d19cheerentrance is 1>>\ The school's entrance is bustling. You make your way over to the front, where Mia is already stationed. She's watching the incoming crowd with a smug little smirk. @@.girl;"You're late,"@@ Mia says as you approach. You check your phone. @@.player;"I literally got here a minute after you did."@@ She shrugs, handing a foam finger to a student. @@.girl;"Exactly. That's a minute late."@@ You roll your eyes and get beside her. @@.player;"What'd I miss?"@@ @@.girl;"Well, a freshman tried to flirt with me by asking how I did my hair."@@ Mia stretches her arms overhead and yawns dramatically. @@.girl;"The highlight of my day."@@ @@.player;"Riveting,"@@ you deadpan, fishing out a few piece of merch. The two of you settle into a casual rhythm, trading comments between passerby and offering up cheer gear. Mia mostly critiques people's outfits under her breath or ranks them by potential school spirit. You keep it lowkey, offering polite smiles. And then Vincent appears. He's walking up slowly from the squad, his sleeves pulled awkwardly over his hands. His eyes flick nervously from person to person, like he's calculating escape routes. He's carrying a small sketchbook tucked under one arm and fidgeting with the edge of it like he doesn't know whether he even should've come. You perk up. @@.player;"Hey, Vincent."@@ His head snaps toward you like you've just caught him committing a crime. He slows to a stop in front of you and blinks, clearly not recognizing you. @@.player;"Want some spirit gear?"@@ you offer, holding out a glittery "Go Panthers" sticker sheet. Vincent's eyes flick to the items, then back to your face. His lips part like he's about to say something, but then he just sort of panics. @@.vincent;"Uh, th-thanks,"@@ he mumbles, grabbing the sheet a little too quickly and nearly dropping it. @@.vincent;"I, uh, gotta go..."@@ And he scurries off, nearly bumping into another person on the way. Mia watches him go, one eyebrow arched. @@.girl;"Well that was tragic,"@@ she says dryly. @@.player;"He's just shy,"@@ you respond. @@.girl;"Mhm,"@@ Mia nods. @@.girl;"I'm just surprised he's here. Like, I've seen him before—but only when he's eating lunch in the corner and drawing in his sketchbook."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Wait, you know him?"@@ @@.girl;"I guess?"@@ Mia shrugs. @@.girl;"He's in my Calculus class. Never talks unless he's answering a question, and even then it sounds like he's afraid someone's gonna sock him for it."@@ You glance over your shoulder, watching as Vincent looks around, desperately trying to find a place to sit. @@.player;"He's really not that bad once you talk to him,"@@ you say quietly. Mia hums. @@.girl;"Maybe you're right. But he definitely looked like he saw a ghost just now. You sure you know him?"@@ @@.player;"Pretty sure,"@@ you say, smiling faintly. @@.player;"He just didn't recognize me."@@ She nods, lets it drop, and hands a sticker to a kid in a graphic tee as he passes by. And just like that, the moment's gone. But your mind lingers on Vincent a little longer. The way he looked at you like he almost recognized something but couldn't quite name it. Like some invisible string tugged at him and he didn't know why. <<elseif $d19cheerentrance is 2>>\ The sun's beginning to dip, casting long golden streaks across the front of Pacific Crest High. You make your way toward the main entrance, where Tori's already posted up. @@.girl;"Hey!"@@ she chirps, waving dramatically with both arms. @@.girl;"Over here, helper elf!"@@ You try not to laugh as you jog over. She's surrounded by a chaotic spread of spirit beads, flags, foam fingers, and what looks suspiciously like a glitter cannon. @@.girl;"Did you bring the charm and charisma? 'Cause I brought the sparkle,"@@ Tori says. @@.player;"I brought... responsibility,"@@ you offer. @@.girl;"Good enough,"@@ she sings, slapping a glitter sticker on your shoulder. @@.girl;"You're now officially part of the Sparkle Corps."@@ You settle in beside her as the two of you get to work, handing out stickers, greeting people, and trying to keep the foam fingers from flying away in the wind. Tori, naturally, does most of the talking. She asks people their favorite outfits, compliments outfits, and gives kids nickname on the spot (@@.girl;"You, sir, are officially Captain Panther Spirit!"@@). You decide to stay back and deal with the merchandise. It's going well, until you spot a familiar figure making her way up the steps. Samantha. She's in her usual outfit, but her eyes are sharp as they land on you. <<if $cheerbffknow is true>>\ She stops just a few steps away, squints at you for a second, then smirks. @@.samantha;"Well I'll be damned,"@@ she says, crossing her arms. @@.samantha;"You actually pull it off."@@ You lift your chin a little, schooling your face into a neutral smile. @@.player;"Can I do anything for you, miss?"@@ you say, pretending not to know her. @@.player;"Free foam finger? Sticker?"@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Yeah. You can stop showing me up."@@ You can't help the grin that breaks through as she snorts and brushes a few strands of hair behind her ear. @@.samantha;"Seriously though, you look good,"@@ she says, glancing over your uniform. @@.samantha;"Like... suspiciously good. I hate it. Go away."@@ She laughs before turning on her heel and strolling off lazily, like she didn't just make your whole afternoon. Tori, who's been standing beside you the whole time holding a fistful of plastic beads, blinks twice. @@.girl;"Sooo... I'm guessing she knows?"@@ @@.player;"Of course I told her,"@@ you say, shrugging casually. @@.player;"She's my best friend."@@ Tori nods slowly. @@.girl;"Yeah. Makes sense."@@ You go back to handing out merch, a little lighter on your feet than before. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Uh oh,"@@ you mutter. Tori tilts her head. @@.girl;"Friend of yours?"@@ @@.player;"To say the least, yeah,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"She's my best friend."@@ Samantha slows as she approaches. She doesn't say anything at first, just looks at you. Really takes a proper look at you. Head tilted slightly and brows faintly drawn together like she's trying to line up two overlapping images in her brain. @@.samantha;"...Hey,"@@ she says slowly. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you reply, keeping your voice quiet. You hand a pin to a student without breaking eye contact. Samantha's eyes narrow a little. @@.samantha;"You look... familiar."@@ You try to play dumb. @@.player;"I've got one of those faces."@@ She glances at your shoulder, then at your outfit, and finally back up to your face again. A beat of silence stretches out. Her gaze sharpens. @@.samantha;"Never mind,"@@ she says suddenly, backing up a step. @@.samantha;"Weird."@@ Then she just turns and walks off down the steps like nothing happened. You exhale slowly, trying not to let the tension show in your posture. Tori watches her go with a curious expression. @@.girl;"Does she know?"@@ @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you state. @@.player;"But if anyone could figure it out..."@@ @@.girl;"...It'd be her,"@@ Tori finishes. @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you mutter, handing out another sticker. Tori doesn't press further, opting to just give you a cheeky smile. @@.girl;"Well, let's hope she doesn't tattle. You make the whole cheer squad vibe way better."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Kickoff" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 8">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-footballnd.png"> The sun has dipped, leaving the night sky over the Pacific Crest High football field. The air hums with energy as students, teachers, alumni, and family members buzz with excitement. The bleachers are almost full as the Homecoming game approaches kickoff. Music pumps from the speakers, and the scent of fresh popcorn and synthetic turf drifts through the cool breeze. You weave through the crowd until you spot Jessica waving you over. You make your way to the sidelines, where the team has reassembled. Her clipboard is tucked under her arm and her brows are knit in intense focus. @@.jessica;"There you are,"@@ she says, relief flashing in her expression. @@.jessica;"Everyone's back now, good."@@ You nod and fall in beside the others. Mia's chewing gum like she owns the place, Tori's fidgeting with one of the streamer batons, and Ashley is stretching her arms above her head. There's a quiet unity to it now. You're all in uniform, standing shoulder to shoulder in the bright stadium lights. @@.jessica;"All right, team,"@@ Jessica says, voice tightening slightly. @@.jessica;"We've got twenty minutes until kickoff. We'll do our welcome cheer during the pregame runout, and then the halftime show. Everyone know their placements?"@@ Everyone murmurs that they've got it. Jessica turns to you specifically, her voice softening just a touch. @@.jessica;"You good, $name?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Let's kill it."@@ She gives you a grateful smile before stepping forward. @@.jessica;"Okay, everyone! Let's line up. Time to welcome the team out."@@ You fall into position near Mia, the lines crisp as the squad marches onto the edge of the track, facing the tunnel that leads into the locker rooms. The football players are just beyond it, waiting for their cue. You can already hear the thuds of helmets and shoulder pads, the short chants they do to psych themselves up before charging onto the field. The cheer team bursts into synchronized motion, voices rising with the practiced chant you've drilled so many times already. @@.girl;"Let's fight, Panthers! Blue and white, we own the night!"@@ The crowd cheers. You catch a blur of movement as the players come surging from the tunnel, led by Luke at full speed, the team's banner cracking in the wind. He waves to the stands, then to the cheer squad, his grin as wide and wild as ever. You keep cheering, keeping in formation as the rest of the squad pivots and hits their marks. Jessica counts under her breath as the team snaps into the final pose of the routine. A wave of applause erupts. You're sweating already, but you can't help smiling. The marching band snaps into formation. Trumpets gleam under the rising stadium lights. The band launches into a bold, brassy fight song. It's a little generic, sure, but catchy in the way school spirit songs always are. The student's section full now, the Pacific Crest side full of blue and black. Posters are being waved, foam fingers bob, and people cheer. The energy is electric. @@.boy;"Good evening, Pacific Crest High!"@@ The booming voice of the stadium announcer cuts through the music. The band tapers off and the crowd claps politely before falling to a hush. @@.boy;"Welcome to the 2024 Homecoming Game! Tonight, your very own Pacific Crest Panthers will take on the visiting Sierra Heights Wolves in what promises to be an unforgettable matchup. We've got a packed house tonight, an exciting halftime performance, and plenty of school spirit. Let's make some noise!"@@ The bleachers erupt in cheers, the applause roaring. @@.boy;"Let's bring out our team captains for the coin toss!"@@ Jordan walks forward with three other players, helmet under his arm and expression sharp with focus. The visiting team's captain approaches from the opposite end of the field, meeting at the fifty-yard line with the referee, who holds a silver coin in one hand. The mic picks up the exchange as the ref holds up the coin. @@.boy;"Heads is the school logo, tails is the state seal. Sierra Heights, you're the visiting team. Call it in the air."@@ The Wolves' captain, a tall, broad guy with a buzz-cut, nods and calls, @@.boy;"Heads."@@ The coin goes into the air, arcing high under the field lights. It spins before landing flat in the grass. @@.boy;"Looks like it's heads! Sierra Heights wins the toss. They've elected to defer."@@ A low rumble passes through the stands. The crowd's hungry now. The cheer squad snaps to position near the sidelines as the teams line up for kickoff. You fall in beside Jessica, who tosses you a quick glance, then nods toward the field. The stadium lights hum overhead, white and blinding as they flicker to full strength. The kicker for the Panthers plants his cleats into the turf, the ball poised on the tee. A pause. A whistle. And then his leg swings forward in a smooth, practiced arc, sending the ball soaring into the air. <<button "The game begins!" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 9">><</button>>

The stadium roars with excitement as the clock ticks down the final seconds of the second quarter. The Pacific Crest Panthers have been absolutely ''dominating''. The offense has been relentless, and the defense tight. The scoreboard glows with the proof: Pacific Crest 28, Sierra Heights 7. The final tackle hits like thunder, the crowd erupts, and the whistle signals halftime. The moment the teams jog off the field, the band strikes up a peppy tune and the cheer squad immediately begins to assemble. Jessica claps her hands twice, rallying everyone. @@.jessica;"Alright! Let's go, let's go! Formation A!"@@ You fall into line with the others. The cool night air brushes against your face as the first beats of the halftime routine echo across the stadium, the marching band matching your rhythm. The crowd begins to clap along. You take your place in the formation, shoulders squared and chest lifted. All around you, the others are locking into place. Ashley's steady and poised, Mia has a confident grin, and Tori is bouncing on her shoes with bright neon laces. Jessica stands at the center, giving a subtle nod that shows she's confident. And then the music hits. The routine bursts into motion. It's fast, it's clean, and it's ''alive''. Every move lands with precision. The high kicks, synchronized claps, sharp turns, lifts and dips. All of them land effortlessly. The crowd oohs and cheers at the big pyramid formation mid-routine. Mia, the flyer, flips with effortless grace before being caught perfectly. You're breathing hard, but your body knows exactly what to do, falling into the rhythm like it's second nature. Somewhere around the middle, you catch sight of the stands. Students are on their feet. People are recording on their phones. Even the opposing side is watching with a kind of stunned curiosity. There's a rush in your chest. It's not nerves or stage fright, it's just... //joy//. It bubbles up like lightning in your veins. You're an essential part of this. You belong to this moment. The sound of synchronized stomps, the glow of the lights, and the glitter of pom-poms in motion. The world narrows to the beat, the roar of the crowd, and the pounding of your heart. You steal a glance at Jessica during one of the final sequences. Her face is flushed and her expression is focused, but there's a glint in her eye. She ''knows'' it's going well. The final pose hits right on cue. Fists up, chests lifted, breath held. The music cuts. A beat of silence before explosion. The crowd erupts. Cheers rain down like confetti. The band whoops behind you, and a few football players at the sidelines are literally jumping in place. The announcer's voice crackles back on over the speaker. @@.boy;"Let's hear it for the Pacific Crest cheer squad! That was incredible!"@@ You exhale and let yourself smile. You may be tired, but you don't even care. Somewhere behind you, Tori whispers, @@.girl;"Holy crap. That was awesome."@@ Jessica calls out, @@.jessica;"Great work, everyone! Take a breather, hydrate, and meet back at the sideline."@@ As you jog back toward the benches with the rest of the squad, the band starting up again. The night hums around you. Everything feels almost dreamlike: the cheering fans, the upbeat music, and the stadium lights. You're shining. <<button "Shine bright like a diamond" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 10">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "Game2CheerBowl">>\ The second the automatic doors hiss open, a wall of fluorescent light and the tangy smell of processed cheese hits you in the face. Velocity Lanes is loud, chaotic, and practically humming with retro energy. The linoleum floors are cracked, the neon signs flicker on and off, and the pins smash down like bones. You're barely three steps inside before the poor college guy behind the counter, eyes heavy with regret and existential dread, peeks up from his phone. @@.boy;"Oh, no,"@@ he mutters. @@.boy;"Not a team."@@ But it's too late. You're already inside, and behind you is a swarm of sweaty football players and excited cheerleaders pouring into the alley. They're laughing, yelling, and elbowing each other. Then, from the far side of the snack bar, a voice cuts through the noise. @@.boy;"Ahh!"@@ Head turns. Out strides a man with a sweeping, theatrical gait. He's barrel-chested, wearing a black shirt with a pattern of random shapes, and sporting eyebrows so massive they cast their own shadows. His grin could split brick. His accent is thick, proud, and unmistakably Balkan. @@.boy;"Look at this! Look at this!"@@ he shouts, hands spread wide like he's greeting royalty. @@.boy;"Is miracle! Is raining Panthers in here, eh?"@@ The college kid sighs. @@.boy;"Roman..."@@ @@.boy;"Shh."@@ Roman raises a finger in the air. @@.boy;"Tonight, I smell prosperity!"@@ He marches up to your group like a general greeting his troops. @@.boy;"Welcome, welcome, my beautiful American children! I am Roman, king of Velocity Lanes!"@@ He sweeps an exaggerated bow. @@.boy;"You come to bowl? Of course you come to bowl! What else what you do with such strong arms and legs?"@@ Tori claps. @@.girl;"I love him already."@@ Jessica looks concerned. @@.jessica;"Um, we were thinking ten—"@@ @@.boy;"Ten lanes?"@@ Roman interrupts. @@.boy;"You get twelve! Because I am feeling generous tonight. And also, you will pay. Yes?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, yeah, we're paying,"@@ Luke assures him. Roman spins on him. @@.boy;"You! You look like you eat many nachos, you football man with big arms. You bring many friends. You will spend money. I will not ask questions about your diet."@@ @@.luke;"Yup, that's me!"@@ Luke beams. Roman claps him on the shoulder. @@.boy;"Very good. You bowl lucky tonight, Nacho Boy."@@ Then Roman throws his arms out again. @@.boy;"Tonight was slow night, but now! Look! I have football champions, cheerleaders, sparkles, testosterone, mystery! We will make history, eh? You will laugh, you will scream, you will maybe cry. But mostly, you will bowl!"@@ He gestures dramatically toward the ancient scoring computers. @@.boy;"Lanes await you. Shoes are over there. Do not lie about your size. I will know."@@ As your group starts drifting off in all directions, Roman leans in conspiratorially and adds to no one in particular, @@.boy;"Lane 5 is haunted. Do not send any good players there."@@ Then he marches away, muttering something in Serbian under his breath and grabbing a mop like it's a battle axe. You glance at Jessica, who is just standing there with her mouth slightly open. @@.jessica;"Well, he's intense."@@ @@.girl;"He's amazing,"@@ Tori says reverently. @@.luke;"Can we bowl now?"@@ Luke shouts from halfway down the lane. @@.luke;"I'm gonna roll a strike!"@@ You shake your head, laughing, and head to change into bowling shoes. Game's over. Now it's just fun. <<button "Which lane?" "Day 19 - Hangout 2">><</button>>

The bowling alley is in full chaos now. Pins crash like thunder, balls roar down glossy lanes, and the whole building is lit up with the buzz of victory and leftover adrenaline from the game. The squad and the football team have spread out like a tidal wave, flooding into every corner of Velocity Lanes with laughter, noise, and energy that doesn't seem like it'll ever run out. The music overhead thumps with pop music. Someone shouts they're getting a cheese platter. Someone else is already trading shoes two sizes too big. Roman is parading around like a victorious war general, cheering in Serbian every time someone lands a strike. You take a slow breath, just watching it all for a moment, trying to decide where to drift. Jessica and Luke are already claiming a lane. Luke's practically vibrating with excitement as he grabs a bright orange bowling ball. Jessica's fiddling with her shoes calmly, looking much more collected now than she did before the game. There's still a gleam in her eyes as she glances at the scoring computer though, clearly wanting to win. They're an odd duo, but it somehow works. Luke and Jessica's energy bouncing off each other like chaotic particles. @@.jessica;"Get over here,"@@ Jessica says, waving over at you. <<if $cheerbffknow is true>>\ @@.luke;"Hey, uh, cheerleader!"@@ Luke waves with both arms, nearly dropping the ball on his foot. @@.luke;"You better join us! I'm gonna crush everyone here!"@@ <<else>>\ @@.luke;"Yeah, mystery girl!"@@ Luke waves with both arms, nearly dropping the ball on his foot. @@.luke;"You can watch me crush everyone here at bowling."@@ <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"Come on, you all know I'm winning,"@@ Jessica murmurs, eyes locked on the lane ahead. Meanwhile, on another lane, the cheer trio—Mia, Tori, and Ashley—have set up their own mini kingdom. Tori already made a crown out of napkins and is wearing it proudly, announcing herself as "Queen of Lane 11." Ashley sits like royalty herself, legs crossed, sipping on something pink. Mia's smirking as she slowly lines up a shot, pretending she's not taking it seriously. However, you know her well enough now to know she definitely is. @@.girl;"Gutterball incoming,"@@ Tori teases, right as Mia releases her shot. The ball rolls smooth and straight before nailing a strike. Tori gasps in betrayal. Ashley raises one eyebrow in approval. Mia just shrugs. @@.girl;"Pure skill,"@@ she says smugly, catching your eye and tossing you a wink. @@.girl;"Come sit with the cool girls, $name."@@ Finally, there's Jordan, sitting alone at the bar. He just looks exhausted as he listens to Roman, who seems to have made it his personal mission to teach Jordan every drink on the menu. You stand there for a moment in the center of it all. It's time to pick where you go. <<button "Go join Jessica and Luke" "Day 19 - Hangout Jessica & Luke 1">>\<<set $d19bowlingcompany to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_bowling_company" "jessica and luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Go hang out with Mira, Tori, and Ashley" "Day 19 - Hangout Squad 1">>\<<set $d19bowlingcompany to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_bowling_company" "cheer squad" "story">><</button>> <<button "Go sit by Jordan at the bar" "Day 19 - Hangout Jordan 1">>\<<set $d19bowlingcompany to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_bowling_company" "jordan" "story">><</button>>

The night air is cooler than it was just an hour ago, crisp with the autumn edge that sneaks in once the sun fully dips. The sky is a dusky navy, and the neon sign of //Velocity Lanes// casts a faint, flickering glow over the parking lot as the doors swing open and everyone pours out. Laughter echoes off the pavement. Sneakers scrape on the floor, someone carrying an empty pizza tray, another person who's stolen the bowling shoes. You step out with them, flushed with warmth and noise and a whirlwind of memories. Luke and a couple of the football guys are tossing a balled-up napkin back and forth like it's a football. Tori's trying to convince Ashley and Mia to come to a diner for desert. Jordan lingers near the edge of the crowd, quietly talking to someone. Then you feel a hand brush your shoulder and turn to see Jessica beside you, a halfway zipped hoodie over her cheer uniform. @@.jessica;"Hey,"@@ she says, gently nudging your arm. @@.jessica;"Seriously. Thank you."@@ You blink. @@.player;"For what?"@@ She gives you a look like it should be obvious. @@.jessica;"For tonight. The game, the routine, the energy. All of it. You were amazing out there."@@ There's something honest and sincere in her tone, the kind that always hits a little harder after a long day. @@.jessica;"It wouldn't have been the same without you,"@@ she adds. @@.jessica;"We've had wins before, but tonight felt different. Like everyone was in sync."@@ You nod slowly. It feels nice, hearing that from her. It makes it feel like it all mattered. Behind her, the rest of the squad is joking about who had the worst form and who lost their pom-poms. Someone's trying to remember the name of the song that played during the last set. Roman waves at everyone from inside the glass doors, still beaming, probably calculating tips. Jessica steps back, tugs her hood up, and flashes you a wink. @@.jessica;"See you tomorrow?"@@ she asks. @@.jessica;"I'd love to see you at the party."@@ You nod. Then the group slowly starts to break, drifting toward cars, carpools, and sidewalks. A soft buzz still hums in the air and you smile. You weren't sure you'd have a good night, but you did. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - 11">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "Game2CheerJessLuke">>\ You make your way across the gleaming wood floor of the bowling alley, weaving between clusters of teammates, rogue bowling balls, and the low hum of vending machines. The chaos of the night pulses around you, but your eyes land on the pair you've chosen to join: Jessica and Luke. Luke, sitting on the couch, is in the middle of his story. His arms are wide, and he gestures with so much energy that he makes a half-full soda cup teeter on the edge of the table. @@.luke;"—and then I curved it, right?"@@ he's saying, mimicking an exaggerated spin with his whole torso. @@.luke;"BAM! Clean strike. Everyone went wild. Coach tried to high-five me and missed. I was unstoppable."@@ Jessica leans back, a soda can in her hand, one brow arched with skeptical amusement. @@.jessica;"Oh really?"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Unstoppable?"@@ Luke beams like he's already won the game. @@.luke;"I'm telling you. King of the lanes. They used to call me something. What was it again? Bowling... Beast?"@@ @@.jessica;"Pretty sure no one's ever called you that,"@@ Jessica says, smirking. He pouts. @@.luke;"Not to my face, maybe. But the vibe was there."@@ <<if $cheerbffknow is true>>\ You finally reach them, and Luke perks up. @@.luke;"Yo! $name!"@@ He scoots over to make room on the bench. @@.luke;"Perfect timing. You're about to witness greatness. Jessica here thinks I'm all talk."@@ Jessica shrugs. @@.jessica;"I just said I wanted to see it for myself."@@ Luke turns to you, a serious expression on his face. @@.luke;"$name. My dude. My trusted companion. My rock in times of doubt. You believe in me, right?"@@ His eyes are wide and hopeful as he waggles his brows for dramatic effect. Do you believe in him? <<else>>\ You finally reach them, and Luke perks up. @@.luke;"Oh hey, you're one of the new cheer girls, right?"@@ he says, pointing a finger in your vague direction like it might jog his own memory. @@.luke;"I've never seen you at school before, but hey, welcome to the epicenter of athletic excellence."@@ Jessica rolls her eyes. @@.jessica;"He means the lane where he's about to embarrass himself."@@ @@.luke;"Wow. Harsh. Untrue. Unwarranted."@@ Luke turns to you, suddenly very serious. @@.luke;"Alright. You've just walked into greatness. And you, mysterious cheerleader, get to witness it firsthand."@@ He steps a little closer, lowering his voice like he's letting you in on a secret. @@.luke;"Jessica doesn't believe in me. She thinks I'm all talk. But I'm not. I'm the real deal."@@ Jessica raises a brow but says nothing, letting him dig his own hole. @@.luke;"So, do you believe in me?"@@ he asks you. @@.luke;"You think I've got this?"@@ <</if>>\ <<button "I believe in you" "Day 19 - Hangout Jessica & Luke 2">>\<<set $d19lukebelief to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_believe_luke" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Absolutely not" "Day 19 - Hangout Jessica & Luke 2">>\<<set $d19lukebelief to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_believe_luke" false "story">><</button>>

<<if $d19lukebelief is true>>\ @@.player;"I believe in you,"@@ you say, smirking. Luke straightens and a wide grin appears on his face. @@.luke;"You hear that?"@@ he says, turning dramatically toward Jessica. @@.luke;"I have believers. I have fans. I have faithful companions who recognize greatness when they see it."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"Okay, okay,"@@ she says dryly. @@.jessica;"We'll see how it actually goes."@@ @@.luke;"You'll regret doubting me, Jessica,"@@ Luke declares. @@.luke;"Once I start getting scholarship offers for bowling, it's game over."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Is that a thing?"@@ @@.luke;"It should be,"@@ Luke replies confidently, still riding the high. @@.luke;"And if it's not, it will be. For me. I'm gonna revolutionize the sport."@@ @@.jessica;"You can't even revolutionize your footwork, Luke,"@@ Jessica mutters. @@.luke;"Ouch,"@@ Luke comments. He gets up, and tightens his grip on the ball. @@.luke;"This one's for all my doubters. For the haters. For Jessica."@@ @@.jessica;"I'm honored,"@@ she deadpans. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Absolutely not."@@ You say it without hesitation, arms folded, gaze steady. Luke freezes, his grin faltering for a half-second. That's just long enough for Jessica to let out a sharp laugh and jab her thumb in your direction. @@.jessica;"Damn,"@@ she says, smiling. @@.jessica;"I thought you were smart."@@ @@.luke;"That //is// being smart!"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"When I get a strike, you're gonna eat your words, Jessica. You'll all be like, 'Wow, Luke, I was so wrong about you.' And I'll be like, 'Yes. Yes you were.'"@@ Jessica just rolls her eyes. @@.player;"So are you saying that failure just makes your narrative stronger?"@@ you ask, raising a brow. @@.luke;"Exactly!"@@ Luke declares, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. @@.luke;"Every sports movie has this moment, right? Everyone doubts the guy. The music swells. He looks deep inside himself. Then he does it. Standing ovation. The girl falls in love with him. Fireworks, probably."@@ @@.player;"Are you okay?"@@ you ask, biting back a smile. He waves a hand. @@.luke;"Don't ruin this. I'm building tension."@@ You glance sideways at Jessica, who's now pretending to inspect her nails. @@.player;"You gonna say anything?"@@ @@.jessica;"Oh, I'm enjoying this,"@@ she says with a little smirk. @@.jessica;"It's like watching someone hype themselves up for a disaster."@@ Luke shoots her a look, then points at the lane like it's a challenge issued by destiny itself. @@.luke;"Watch and learn,"@@ he says dramatically, reaching for the ball. He squares his shoulders and sticks his tongue out in focus. <</if>>\ You and Jessica both lean forward instinctively, the air around you thick with the kind of ridiculous suspense that only Luke could generate. And then he starts his approach. The bowling ball leaves Luke's hand like a cannonball. For a split second, it looks impressive. His arm follows through with a dramatic flair, and you can hear him whisper @@.luke;"strike"@@ under his breath. But then... it goes up. Not forward. Not even diagonally. Straight. Up. There's a gasp as the bowling ball soars like a meteor, spinning awkwardly through the air. It smashes into the massive LCD scoreboard above the lanes with a deafening ''CRACK''. Time freezes. For a moment, nothing happens. Then the screen flashes violently before erupting into chaos. The lane display animation, which was supposed to show a goofy cartoon of a bowling pin riding a missile, instead starts stuttering, glitching wildly. The pin's face morphs and loops, its smile melting into a demonic grin. Distorted bowling alley sound effects layer and overlap like it's haunted. @@.clanker;"SPARE! SPARE! STRIKESTRIKESTRIKE!"@@ Jessica stares at the cracked screen with a blank expression. Then she slowly turns to Luke. @@.jessica;"Wow,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Really proved me wrong."@@ Luke, still frozen mid-pose, lowers his hand like he's just realized he's fucked up. @@.luke;"Uh..."@@ And then— @@.boy;"NOOOOOOOOO!"@@ Roman appears from behind the counter and rushes over. His apron flaps behind him and horror is etched into his face. His voice echoes through the alley like thunder: @@.boy;"MY BABY! MY BEAUTIFUL BABY! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?"@@ He drops to his knees in front of the flickering screen, hands raised to the heavens. @@.boy;"She was so young! Only twenty years old! No more warranty!"@@ Luke backs away slowly. @@.luke;"Okay, so I might have—"@@ Roman's head snaps toward him. @@.boy;"You! Strong man! Too strong! Too much love in arm! You throw like angry god!"@@ @@.luke;"I'll pay for it,"@@ Luke says quickly, hands up in surrender. @@.luke;"I swear! Just send me the bill—"@@ @@.boy;"Bill? Pah!"@@ Roman scoffs. @@.boy;"You think money replace love? Can buy memories? No! But still, yes, I take money. Much money."@@ Jessica is biting back laughter so hard her shoulders are shaking. You're honestly not far behind. Roman rises to his feet and brushes imaginary dust from his apron. @@.boy;"You! All of you! no more throwing ball into sky! This is bowling, not basketball!"@@ Luke just nods solemnly. @@.luke;"Understood, sir."@@ Roman storms off, muttering to himself in Serbian, something about disrespect and silicone chips and the youth of today. The busted screen continues to glitch, now displaying a warped @@.clanker;"CONGRATULATIONS"@@ banner over a melting smiley face. Luke turns back to you. @@.luke;"So... do you think that counts as a strike?"@@ Jessica covers her mouth, but the snort escapes anyway. And you? <<if $d19lukebelief is true>>\ You're not sure why you believed in him. <<else>>\ You're just glad you didn't decide to believe in him. <</if>>\ <<button "Watch Luke" "Day 19 - Hangout Jessica & Luke 3">><</button>>

<<if $cheerbffknow is true>>\ Luke's bowling career ends with a busted screen, a panicked apology, and Roman sobbing over the shattered remains of what he called his "beautiful baby." The three of you retreat from the lane, deciding it's safer to just hang out on the couch instead. Now, Luke sits across from you, drink in hand, slouched back like he's trying to play it cool. It might've worked if his eyes weren't darting toward you every few seconds, like he's trying to check that you're still real. You sip from your ridiculous drink glass, pretending not to notice how pink the tips of his ears are. Jessica's off to the side, scrolling through her phone, but every now and then, she glances up with a smirk. Luke exhales hard through his nose. @@.luke;"So, uh,"@@ he says, barely meeting your eyes. @@.luke;"You having fun tonight?"@@ You nod slowly, watching him squirm a little. @@.player;"Yeah. More than I expected to, honestly."@@ @@.luke;"Cool. Cool."@@ He takes a long sip of soda like it's going to shield him. @@.luke;"You, uh... you're good at cheering. You've got the whole... thing going on. And jumps. And the yelling."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Thanks?"@@ He nods rapidly. @@.luke;"I mean, I really do mean it. I just didn't think you'd actually go through with it. You're still here and you're still doing it. And, uh—"@@ Jessica leans forward just enough to interject, dry as ever. @@.jessica;"You gonna say $name is pretty next, or...?"@@ Luke chokes. @@.luke;"What? No, I mean, shut up, Jessica."@@ You just raise an eyebrow at him, the corner of your mouth twitching. He groans and drags his hand down his face. @@.luke;"Look, it's just weird, okay? You're still my best friend. But now you're... you. And that's not bad, it's just..."@@ He flounders for a second, searching for a word. @@.luke;"New. It's new."@@ @@.player;"New how?"@@ you ask, humming. He doesn't answer right away. His leg bounces under the table, and he's chewing the inside of his cheek like he's worried the wrong answer might explode. @@.luke;"It's like... I've always had this mental picture of you, and now I'm updating it. I guess I'm still figuring it out."@@ Jessica snorts, still not looking up. @@.jessica;"Translation: 'I'm confused because my best friend's hot now.'"@@ Luke groans. You let the silence settle, warm and buzzing with tension. Luke clears his throat, doing his best to break it. @@.luke;"Just, uh... for the record, you pull it off. All of it. The cheer stuff. The look. It suits you."@@ You get the feeling he's not just talking about your outfit. <<else>>\ The three of you eventually give up on bowling. The busted screen is still glitching like it's trying to learn new languages, and Roman has finally stopped wailing. You're now back on the long couch behind the lane. Jessica's strolling through her phone and Luke... very much //not// looking at you. Which, of course, means he keeps glancing at you and then turning away the second you look back. He scratches the back of his neck, clearing his throat. @@.luke;"Sooo... sorry about that. Not exactly the strike I promised."@@ @@.jessica;"Understatement of the year,"@@ Jessica says, snorting. Luke grins sheepishly and leans back, his arm stretched along the top of the couch. His eyes dart toward you again, just a flicker, but when they land on your face, he grins. @@.luke;"Uh... hey,"@@ he says, very eloquently. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you reply, playing it cool. @@.luke;"You, uh..."@@ He gestures vaguely at you. @@.luke;"You bowl?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"I mean, we're literally at a bowling alley."@@ @@.luke;"No, I meant, like, do you bowl well?"@@ He shifts in his seat, his knee bouncing slightly. @@.luke;"Like, outside of this. Regularly."@@ Jessica doesn't even glance up. @@.jessica;"Oh my God. Luke."@@ @@.luke;"What?"@@ he says quickly. @@.luke;"I'm just making conversation."@@ @@.jessica;"You're sweating."@@ @@.luke;"I'm not sweating,"@@ he lies, absolutely sweating. You bite back a smile. Luke's never been subtle about his type, and you know he's got a thing for cute Asian girls. You can practically see the gears in his brain struggling to connect the dots. To him, you're just a very pretty, very unfamiliar girl who somehow knows Jessica and is way too cool to be this close to him on a Friday night. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, trying for a casual tone. @@.luke;"So, uh. You from around here? I mean, obviously, I guess, since you're at our school, but, like, have we met?"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You don't recognize me?"@@ His eyes widen for half a second in panic. @@.luke;"No! I mean, maybe? I meet a lot of people! Kind of? I'd remember you though. Wait, but not like—"@@ Jessica looks up with a smirk. @@.jessica;"Luke,"@@ she says, @@.jessica;"you're spiraling."@@ @@.luke;"I'm not spiraling,"@@ Luke mutters, but his voice cracks halfway through, and he swallows hard like it betrayed him. He clears his throat. @@.luke;"Anyway. You, uh, seem cool."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Thanks?"@@ @@.luke;"And... I like your hair. I mean. It's cool. Very, uh. Shiny."@@ Jessica lets out a single sharp laugh and immediately turns it into a fake cough. Luke's ears are pink. You glance at him again, and his knee is still bouncing. He doesn't know who you are. He doesn't realize he's hitting on his best friend. And part of you finds that hilarious. The other part, though, is kind of curious what would happen if you leaned into it. <</if>>\ <<button "Flirt back" "Day 19 - Hangout Jessica & Luke 4">>\<<set $d19lukeflirt to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_luke_flirt" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Flirt just to mess with him" "Day 19 - Hangout Jessica & Luke 4">>\<<set $d19lukeflirt to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_luke_flirt" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Leave him alone" "Day 19 - Hangout Jessica & Luke 4">>\<<set $d19lukeflirt to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_luke_flirt" 2 "story">><</button>>

<<if $d19lukeflirt is 0>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ Luke is quiet now. He's got a half-smile he always wears when he's unsure but curious, a kind of soft confusion curling at the edges of his mouth. You let the silence settle for just a beat longer, before leaning in a little. Just enough that your face is near his. Just enough to make it obvious you //meant// to do it. @@.player;"Y'know,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I really do like being around you."@@ Luke blinks. His head turns slightly, like he's not sure he heard you right. @@.luke;"What?"@@ You shrug one shoulder, gaze playful but warmer now. @@.player;"You're fun. You're sweet. And you're kind of dumb sometimes, but in a way that makes people feel safer around you. It's... nice."@@ He's blinking again. His mouth is slightly open and words form halfway in his mouth before dying on his tongue. Jessica picks up on the shift instantly. She raises an eyebrow and leans back, arms folded, watching you both like someone tuning in to a particularly good drama. @@.jessica;"Damn,"@@ she says under her breath, @@.jessica;"your dream might just come true, Luke."@@ Luke turns red. @@.luke;"Jessica—"@@ he starts, voice cracking. @@.jessica;"No, go on ahead,"@@ she interrupts with a grin. @@.jessica;"Don't let me stop you. Keep going, Romeo."@@ He groans and drops his face into his hands. @@.luke;"I'm gonna die."@@ @@.player;"C'mon,"@@ you say, laughing softly. @@.player;"You're not //that// bad at taking a compliment."@@ @@.luke;"I just didn't expect—"@@ He cuts himself off and peeks at you through his fingers. @@.luke;"Wait, are you serious right now?"@@ You don't answer right away. You just meet his eyes and give a small nod. His expression wavers between baffled and maybe a little hopeful. You see the exact moment something shifts behind his eyes. @@.luke;"You're dangerous when you mean it,"@@ he says quietly. @@.player;"Good thing you know how to deal with it,"@@ you say, smirking. Jessica lets out a dramatic sigh and flops sideways across the bench. @@.jessica;"Okay, but seriously, if you two start kissing I'm walking out."@@ You and Luke both laugh, and the moment softens, but it doesn't vanish. The warmth lingers between you. It's new, different, and maybe even real. <<elseif $d19lukeflirt is 1>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance - 10, 0, 100)>>\ Luke is still kind of pink in the face, sipping his soda like it'll cool down whatever weird heat is rising up his neck. He's trying to act normal and keep it together, but you can see the flickers of something flustered bubbling just beneath the surface. And, well, you can't resist. You scoot closer, just enough that your face is right in front of his, and tilt your head at him with a smile that's all innocent mischief. @@.player;"Y'know,"@@ you say, voice syrupy sweet, @@.player;"you're really cute when you get all flustered."@@ Luke visibly freezes. Soda halfway to his mouth. Eyes darting to you like you just short-circuited something in his brain. @@.luke;"W-What?"@@ he stammers. You rest your chin in your hand, legs swinging a little beneath the bench like you haven't just completely wrecked the poor guy's mental processor. @@.player;"Just saying. You get all red and lose your usual confidence. It's kinda adorable."@@ Jessica turns, clearly catching the shift in tone. @@.jessica;"Oh my God,"@@ she murmurs, barely holding back a laugh. @@.luke;"I—I am not flustered,"@@ Luke says, helpless and flustered. You widen your eyes in mock surprise. @@.player;"You're not? Oh no, then I must've imagined all that stammering. Silly me."@@ @@.luke;"I'm not stammering,"@@ Luke protests, and it's an immediate lie because he stammers the word stammering. He slaps his hand over his face. @@.luke;"This is a setup."@@ You just giggle wickedly. You are ''way'' too pleased with yourself. @@.player;"Maybe a little."@@ Jessica actually bursts our laughing now. She leans back against the bench and fans herself dramatically. @@.jessica;"This is so much better than the bowling."@@ Luke groans. He drops his head into his hands. @@.luke;"I knew it. I knew you were messing with me."@@ @@.player;"I was just trolling, sorry,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"Not actually interested."@@ He peeks through his fingers, still pink. @@.luke;"You suck."@@ Jessica laughs even harder at that, wiping at the corners of her eyes. @@.jessica;"You fell for it so hard."@@ @@.luke;"I didn't fall for anything,"@@ Luke mutters, but he's doing that thing where he can't stop smiling even though he's trying to act mad about it. You stretch your legs out in front of you and lean back with a satisfied sigh, basking in the chaos. You'll play nice for a bit now. Maybe. <<elseif $d19lukeflirt is 2>>\ Luke's compliment lingers in the air a moment longer than either of you are ready for. He looks away first. You shift in your seat, letting the silence settle. You could lean in, tease him a little, chase that flustered expression until he trips over himself again. It'd be easy. Almost too easy. And part of you is tempted to maybe test the waters and see what would happen if you nudged the moment off balance. But you don't. You just offer a small, quiet smile. Nothing loaded. Nothing more than a gesture of understanding and appreciation. You don't say anything back and just let it be. Luke seems relieved, though he covers it up with a sip of his soda and a muttered, @@.luke;"Yeah, whatever,"@@ like he didn't just bare a piece of himself out loud. Jessica watches all of this from over her phone with a subtle arch of one brow, lips twitching in amusement. But to her credit, she doesn't say a word. Just goes back to scrolling like she wasn't tracking every beat of the interaction. @@.luke;"So, uh, I think I'm banned from bowling here now,"@@ Luke murmurs, clearing his throat. @@.luke;"Roman keeps staring at me like I murdered his dog."@@ You glance over at Roman, who's leaned over the counter, glaring at Luke. @@.player;"I mean, you did throw a ball at his child,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.luke;"It was a TV,"@@ he protests weakly, but the blush creeping back up his neck says he knows you're right. The conversation veers off after that. Safer territory. Topics like food court hot dogs, whether or not anyone's actually finished a full large milkshake from Clancy's is, and how many more games until everyone has to go. Whatever tension was there a minute ago softens into something easier, something familiar. You don't need to define anything. It's okay to keep things the way they are. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Hangout 3">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "Game2CheerJordan">>\ <<if $jordanRelo < 30>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <</if>>\ You make your way toward the neon-lit bar tucked into the corner of Velocity Lanes, navigating around a few stray bowling balls and a couple of football players crowding the vending machine. At the bar, Jordan sits alone on a tall stool, hunched slightly with his elbows on the counter. He's in his usual outfit, varsity jacket sleeves pushed up just enough to show the faint outline of his forearms. They're still tense, probably from the game. His dark eyes are fixed on the glass in front of him, and he doesn't flinch as Roman gestures wildly behind the counter. @@.boy;"You must understand,"@@ Roman is saying, eyes wide with passion. @@.boy;"This is not just alley. This is temple of strikes! People come here to make memories! To win love! To maybe meet nice girl and—"@@ Jordan lifts his glass and takes a slow sip. @@.boy;"...Or maybe just to unwind,"@@ Roman finished, eyeing him for a reaction that doesn't come. @@.boy;"Yes. Of course. You are man of mystery. Like spy. I respect this."@@ You slide onto the stool next to him. Jordan glances over at you, his eyes a little wide, like he hadn't noticed you walk up. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, then tilt your head toward his drink. The amber liquid in the short glass gleams beneath the bar lights. @@.player;"Is that... beer?"@@ Jordan blinks, then chuckles. @@.jordan;"No. It's tea."@@ You pause, eyes narrowing slightly. @@.player;"That's... really convincing tea."@@ @@.jordan;"It's in a whiskey glass,"@@ he mutters, pushing the drink away half an inch. @@.jordan;"Roman said it adds atmosphere."@@ @@.player;"Right,"@@ you reply, trying not to laugh. @@.player;"Because nothing says 'refreshing tea' like pretending to be an underage drinker."@@ Jordan sighs and rubs the back of his neck. @@.jordan;"I just wanted something warm and quiet."@@ @@.player;"It does look nice,"@@ you say, letting your gaze linger on the drink. @@.jordan;"Truth be told, I was hoping it'd make people stop talking to me,"@@ Jordan admits, a little dryly. Roman, who's only been pretending to wipe a glass, suddenly leans in with a wink. @@.boy;"But not this one, yes?"@@ he says, nodding toward you. @@.boy;"She seems to be exception."@@ Jordan doesn't answer that one. He just gives Roman a flat look, which is met with an exaggerated bow before Roman shuffles off to terrorize someone else. The moment stretches comfortably. The noise of the bowling alley thrums behind you. Pins crash, someone shouts about a strike, and Tori's unmistakable laugh floating from a lane. You glance sideways at Jordan. <<if $d12jordantruth is true or $d14telljordan is true>>\ His eyes are still on his drink, but he hasn't taken a sip in a while. There's a rare softness in the way he holds himself now, like the tension that usually hangs from his shoulders has finally loosened a bit. @@.player;"So, why'd you come?"@@ you start, trying to keep your voice light. Jordan blinks and glances at you. @@.jordan;"To the party?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"You didn't seem all that interested earlier. You literally tried to sneak off."@@ He huffs through his nose, like he doesn't want to admit the truth but also doesn't have the energy to lie. @@.jordan;"Yeah, well... I was curious."@@ You tilt your head. @@.player;"Curious?"@@ @@.jordan;"About you,"@@ he says bluntly. Then realizing how that sounds, he looks away and frowns. @@.jordan;"I mean, not like that. Just, I've been thinking since last week."@@ Your heartbeat skips just a little. You know exactly what he's talking about. You told him the truth, that the new girl on the cheer squad was actually you. He didn't really seem to care back then. But now, here he is, at a party he clearly didn't plan to attend. @@.jordan;"I didn't get it,"@@ Jordan continues. @@.jordan;"Still kind of don't. Why you signed up. Why you'd even want to."@@ You watch his profile for a moment. His jaw's tense, but not closed-off the way it usually is. There's something sincere in the way he's looking at the bar, like the words are hard to say but worth saying anyway. @@.jordan;"It's been stuck in my head, so I figured I should make an attempt to understand it better,"@@ Jordan says. You blink. @@.player;"Understand what?"@@ @@.jordan;"You,"@@ he says simply. @@.jordan;"The way you're changing. The way you carry yourself now. It's different, but not bad. Just different."@@ He frowns like the words taste weird in his mouth. @@.jordan;"I've never seen someone do that before. Decide to just... become someone new. Or maybe become more of who they were all along."@@ You're not sure what to say to that. Jordan doesn't talk like this often, if ever. The usual version of him is cold and distant. But here, now, his words are quiet and careful. Then he turns fully to you, finally meeting your gaze. @@.jordan;"So I've gotta ask, why'd you really do it? The cheerleading thing. Was it just for fun? Or was it something else."@@ The noise of the bowling alley fades around you. The moment is real, personal, and waiting for your answer. <<else>>\ You glance at Jordan, who's seated beside you at the bar, taking a slow sip of his drink. Still not beer. Still tea. Still suspiciously amber-colored. @@.player;"So, why'd you end up coming anyway?"@@ you ask casually, nudging your elbow. @@.player;"Didn't seem like your thing."@@ Jordan doesn't look at you right away. He stares down into his drink for a second, then finally lifts his eyes. @@.jordan;"I was curious,"@@ he says. You blink. @@.player;"About the party?"@@ @@.jordan;"No,"@@ he says, turning to you more fully. @@.jordan;"About why //you're// a cheerleader."@@ The words hit you like a cold splash of water. You freeze for just a second too long, your mouth halfway open before you force a small laugh. @@.player;"What?"@@ You try to tilt your head innocently. @@.player;"Me? What do you mean?"@@ Jordan doesn't even blink. @@.jordan;"You might've fooled everyone else. But not me."@@ Your heart thuds in your chest, and this time, your laugh comes out a little more forced. @@.player;"What are you talking about?"@@ @@.jordan;"I know it's you, $name."@@ The air stills a little. Jordan's tone hasn't changed, but there's something weighty beneath it. He's not teasing you, not bluffing. Just stating a fact. @@.jordan;"I noticed after the first game,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"You thought you were slick, but you've got the same height. Same voice. Same gait. Not to mention we don't have many Asian girls at this school. C'mon."@@ You open your mouth, then close it again. There's no point in denying it anymore. @@.jordan;"I wasn't going to say anything,"@@ he continues. @@.jordan;"I figured maybe you had your reasons for keeping it to yourself. But since we're here..."@@ He leans forward slightly, resting an elbow on the bar, and for once, the usual guarded edge in his voice softens. @@.jordan;"Why'd you do it?"@@ You glance down at the counter, then back at him. He's watching you intently now. Not pressing. Just waiting. @@.jordan;"Was it for fun? A dare? Or was it something else?"@@ he asks, more quietly this time. The din of the bowling alley hums around you, but it might as well be a mile away. In this moment, it's just you and him. <</if>>\ <<button "I just wanted to" "Day 19 - Hangout Jordan 2">>\<<set $d19jordantrans to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jordan_cheer_reason" "I just wanted to" "story">><</button>> <<button "I did it as a favor to Jessica" "Day 19 - Hangout Jordan 2">>\<<set $d19jordantrans to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jordan_cheer_reason" "favor to jessica" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d19jordantrans is true>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ Jordan's question lingers in the air, heavier than it should be. The buzz of pins, yelling, and Roman's booming laugh from somewhere off to the side all fade under the weight of your silence. You glance down at the bar top, fingers drumming on the table. You could deflect. Joke. Say it was a dare or a bet or just something stupid. But somehow, with Jordan watching you like that, it feels wrong not to answer honestly. So you take a breath. Let it out. And say, quietly but clearly, @@.player;"I did it because I wanted to."@@ Jordan raises an eyebrow, just slightly. @@.jordan;"Yeah?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah."@@ You glance over at him, searching for the right words. @@.player;"I didn't think I'd... I mean, I never expected to enjoy it. Not really. But once I was out there—moving with everyone, hearing the crowd, being part of it—it felt..."@@ You pause, trying to untangle the knot of feelings that's been building for weeks. @@.player;"It felt right. Not just the cheering. The outfit, the energy, the way people saw me."@@ Jordan doesn't speak. Just listens. You shift a little on your stool. @@.player;"I still don't know what it means,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I don't know if I'm... you know. Whatever. I'm not trying to pretend I have it figured out. But when I'm with the squad, when I'm in uniform and moving in sync and smiling without having to fake it, it's like something clicks. Like it's okay to not know. Like it's okay to just be."@@ Jordan's eyes soften. He nods slowly, almost imperceptibly. You continue, your voice steadier now. @@.player;"I've spent so much of my life just going along with what I thought I was supposed to do. Supposed to be. This is the first thing I've done for myself. Just because it made me feel... good. Like me."@@ For a while, Jordan doesn't say anything. He looks away, nodding once, as if absorbing it all. Finally, he murmurs, @@.jordan;"That makes sense."@@ @@.player;"It does?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.jordan;"Yeah."@@ His tone is low, but honest. @@.jordan;"You don't have to explain more than that. Wanting to feel like yourself? That's enough."@@ You don't realize how tense you were until your shoulders relax. He leans back slightly, watching you with a kind of quiet curiosity now, the corners of his mouth just barely tilted upward. @@.jordan;"It's good that you did it, then. Even if it took me longer than it should have to figure it out."@@ @@.player;"Well, you still figured it out in a few hours,"@@ you point out. @@.player;"Guess I wasn't that convincing, huh?"@@ @@.jordan;"No,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"You were terrible at hiding it. I don't know how I'm the only one who's figured it out."@@ You laugh again, this time more freely. And when your laughter fades, what's left is a quiet, easy silence. Somewhere behind you, a cheer goes up as someone bowls a strike. Roman shouts something about destiny. But here, at the bar, the moment stays soft. Real. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur. @@.jordan;"For what?"@@ @@.player;"For not making it weird."@@ He shrugs. @@.jordan;"Didn't seem weird to me."@@ And maybe that's the best part. <<else>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You glance down at the countertop, fingers drumming on the table. Jordan's question lingers in the air. You let out a breath and lean back slightly, trying to act casual. @@.player;"It wasn't really a big thing,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Jessica needed someone. They were short for the first game of the season, and I happened to be there. So I stepped in."@@ You shrug, like that's all there is to it. No big deal. Just a one-time favor. Jordan raises an eyebrow, but doesn't interrupt. He gives you space. @@.player;"I figured I should help because she's always been cool with me,"@@ you continue, your voice a little quieter now. @@.player;"She was really nice to me in homeroom. So when she asked, I said yeah. That's all."@@ You expect him to challenge you, maybe. Ask again, press deeper. But he just watches you for a second, then glances back down at his drink. @@.player;"Jessica asked me about it again later,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I thought it wouldn't be the worst thing to help out once more. They needed someone, and it's not like I was doing anything else. I don't really think of myself as, like, a cheerleader. Or anything. It's just something I did to help out."@@ Jordan turns his head, watching the way your expression tightens slightly when you say that last part. He's just reading you. You shift in your seat. @@.player;"I guess people assumed it meant something more,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"But it didn't. Not really. It's just a thing I did. That's it."@@ There's a short pause. Then, Jordan nods slowly, thoughtful. @@.jordan;"Alright."@@ You blink, surprised. @@.jordan;"That's fair,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Helping someone out. Doesn't have to mean more than that."@@ It's not the reaction you were expecting. No lectures. No questions about what it 'means' or who you're becoming. Just quiet acceptance. And maybe that's the thing about Jordan. He sees a lot, but he doesn't always feel the need to say it out loud. You sit there for a while longer, the bowling alley alive around you. The pins crash. Laughter from somewhere in the back. Mia shouting that she totally got a strike when she definitely didn't. Tori arguing over toppings. You steal a glance at Jordan again. He's watching the lanes, that unreadable calm still settled on his face. You exhale, feeling... lighter, somehow. Not everything needs to be figured out tonight. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Hangout Jordan 3">><</button>>

<<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ The barstools at Velocity Lanes aren't particularly comfortable, but the conversation is. You and Jordan have drifted a little away from the noise. It's just the two of you at the bar. Jordan has a half-finished drink in front of him. You're still not sure whether its tea or something more daring. He seems more relaxed now, his eyes not darting away every other second like they used to. @@.jordan;"I've been getting emails,"@@ Jordan says suddenly. @@.jordan;"Calls too."@@ You glance over. @@.player;"From recruiters?"@@ He nods, but there's a tension. Something tight in his jaw. @@.jordan;"Alabama's been calling. The Crimson Tide. They've been showing a lot of interest."@@ Your eyes widen. @@.player;"Wait, seriously? That's huge."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says, giving a small laugh. @@.jordan;"Scary huge."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Scary? Shouldn't that be a good thing?"@@ Jordan looks at you then, and for once, there's no smirk or wall or shrug to deflect it all. @@.jordan;"C'mon,"@@ he says, voice quieter now, @@.jordan;"you know where my heart's at."@@ You do. Jordan's not just the team captain or the star quarterback. He's the guy who sits through plays with his eyes glued to the stage, the one who offered to help build set pieces for the upcoming play even though nobody asked. The one who knows more about stage lighting than anyone else on the actual tech crew. @@.jordan;"My family doesn't really get me,"@@ he adds, looking down at the condensation on his glass. @@.jordan;"Football's the legacy. Dad played, his dad played. If I told them I didn't want to go to Alabama..."@@ He trails off. @@.player;"They'd freak out,"@@ you finish for him. He nods, grateful you said it for him. @@.jordan;"Yeah."@@ You nudge your shoulder lightly against his. @@.player;"Well, for what it's worth... I think you should do what you actually want to do."@@ @@.jordan;"Thanks,"@@ Jordan says quietly. He exhales slowly, and it seems like a weight in his shoulder has dropped. @@.jordan;"I'm not good at this stuff. Being honest."@@ @@.player;"You're doing fine,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Better than most."@@ The noise of the bowling alley floats back in. A group of football guys howl about someone guttering twice in a row, Tori gasps, and pins crash. Jordan straightens up, casting you a sideways glance that's somewhere between amused and grateful. @@.jordan;"Alright, no more of this sappy shit,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I'm getting you a drink."@@ He raises his hand to flag down the same exhausted college-aged employee who's been stuck working all night. The guy trudges over with the energy of a man twice his age, towel slung over his shoulder, eyes dead inside. @@.jordan;"What'll it be?"@@ Jordan asks, turning to you. <<else>>\ @@.jordan;"You ever think about quitting?"@@ Jordan asks. You blink. @@.player;"Cheerleading?"@@ He shrugs, not looking at you. @@.jordan;"Or just... not doing the thing everyone expects you to do."@@ You consider it for a second. @@.player;"Sure. I mean, who hasn't?"@@ Jordan lets out a low hum. @@.jordan;"I've been getting emails about football. Recruiters from colleges and all that. I'm sure there was a scout at the game today."@@ You nod slowly, trying to follow where this is going. @@.jordan;"But..."@@ he pauses, finally glancing your way, @@.jordan;"I don't think I want to do this forever."@@ You tilt your head. @@.player;"Then what do you want to do?"@@ Jordan actually chuckles. It's a quiet sound, more from the chest than the mouth. @@.jordan;"Now that,"@@ he says, setting the glass down, @@.jordan;"would be saying too much."@@ You grin. @@.player;"You brought it up."@@ He shrugs again. @@.jordan;"Maybe I'll tell you one day."@@ @@.player;"Big secret?"@@ @@.jordan;"Nah,"@@ he says simply. He stretches lightly, cracking his neck to the side before glancing down at you. @@.jordan;"C'mon, I'll get you a drink."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Uh, I'm good."@@ @@.jordan;"Nope,"@@ he says firmly, already flagging down the poor overworked employee behind the bar. The guy looks like he'd rather be anywhere else, but trudges over anyway. @@.jordan;"What'll it be?"@@ Jordan asks, nudging you. @@.jordan;"Pick your poison."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Water" "Day 19 - Hangout Jordan 4">>\<<set $d19jordandrink to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jordan_drink" "water" "story">><</button>> <<button "Milk" "Day 19 - Hangout Jordan 4">>\<<set $d19jordandrink to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jordan_drink" "milk" "story">><</button>> <<button "Orange Juice" "Day 19 - Hangout Jordan 4">>\<<set $d19jordandrink to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jordan_drink" "orange juice" "story">><</button>> <<button "Beer" "Day 19 - Hangout Jordan 4">>\<<set $d19jordandrink to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jordan_drink" "beer" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d19jordandrink is 0>>\ @@.player;"Water,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'll keep it classy."@@ Jordan raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk tugging at his mouth. @@.jordan;"Bold move. You sure your system can handle that much excitement?"@@ You snort. @@.player;"Hey, I like to live dangerously."@@ The poor college-aged employee just lets out an exaggerated sigh and lumbers off toward the back. You and Jordan fall into an easy silence. You hear the soft whirr of the soda machine, and the sound of glass. @@.jordan;"You know, I really wasn't drinking beer earlier,"@@ Jordan says, lowering his voice. @@.player;"I'm still a little suspicious,"@@ you say. He grins. @@.jordan;"Just wait."@@ When the employee returns, he's holding what you think is water. The issue is that it's been poured into a ridiculously tall, delicate champagne glass. A paper cocktail umbrella is on top. It clinks gently as he sets it down in front of you like it's a luxury item. @@.jordan;"See?"@@ Jordan points out. @@.jordan;"Told you. They just do this."@@ You blink at the glass, trying not to laugh. @@.player;"I guess you're right."@@ You pick it up delicately and take a slow, dramatic sip. Jordan chuckles under his breath. @@.jordan;"You pull that off way too well,"@@ he mutters. @@.jordan;"You sure you haven't done some drinking before?"@@ @@.player;"I'm sure,"@@ you say, taking another sip. Water has never tasted so refined. <<elseif $d19jordandrink is 1>>\ You lean forward against the counter, scanning the drink options. @@.player;"I'll take the milk."@@ @@.jordan;"Milk?"@@ Jordan asks, turning to you like he's not sure he heard you right. @@.player;"Yup,"@@ you say, nodding firmly. A beat. Jordan squints at you. @@.jordan;"Milk."@@ @@.player;"Don't hate,"@@ you say, resting your chin in your hand and grinning. @@.player;"It's good for your bones."@@ Jordan lets out a slow, theatrical sigh, turning back toward the bar like he's disappointed in the youth of today. @@.jordan;"Fell for the propaganda."@@ @@.player;"I did not,"@@ you mutter, groaning. He raises an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"You totally did."@@ @@.player;"Calcium //is// important,"@@ you say. @@.player;"And besides, milk is versatile. You can drink it. You can put in cereal. You can put it in coffee. It's elite, actually."@@ @@.jordan;"You sound like a weird spokesperson for the dairy industry,"@@ Jordan says, amusement tugging at his mouth. You shrug, pleased. @@.player;"Someone has to be."@@ The employee returns, looking as exhausted as ever, and sets down your milk in a stemmed glass. There's even a cherry in it for some reason. The glass clinks lightly as he slides it toward you, then trudges off with the defeated gait of someone who stopped caring a long time ago. You take a long sip. It's delicious. <<elseif $d19jordandrink is 2>>\ The glass of orange juice arrives with a cheery clink, the surface pulpy and orange. You take it in both hands, grateful for something cold and citrusy after everything tonight. Jordan glances at it, then huffs a little through his nose. @@.jordan;"Orange juice, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, glancing sideways. @@.player;"What, you don't like it?"@@ He shrugs, drumming his fingers against the counter. @@.jordan;"Used to."@@ @@.player;"Used to?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he replies, rolling his shoulder like he's trying to get something unstuck. @@.jordan;"I swapped to orange Gladiraid a while back. Got tired of the pulp, I think."@@ You smirk and take a long sip of orange juice before answering. @@.player;"Isn't that unhealthy?"@@ @@.jordan;"Probably,"@@ Jordan states. @@.jordan;"Tastes good, though."@@ @@.player;"You know what, I guess I can't judge,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Orange juice isn't exactly super healthy either."@@ He glances over at you, eyes amused. @@.jordan;"The type you buy at the store is probably, like, 90% sugar."@@ @@.player;"Fair,"@@ you admit, setting the glass down with a soft thunk. @@.player;"Still better than soda."@@ @@.jordan;"Debatable,"@@ Jordan mutters, snorting. @@.player;"Okay, but Gladiraid is basically neon-colored sugar water. You can't even argue with that."@@ @@.jordan;"Exactly,"@@ he says, not even bothering to defend himself. @@.jordan;"Sometimes you want sugar water. With electrolytes."@@ @@.player;"Well, sometimes I want juice,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"With vitamin C."@@ @@.jordan;"That's fair,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. <<elseif $d19jordandrink is 3>>\ @@.player;"Can I have a beer?"@@ you ask. The employee stares at you with a flat expression from behind the counter. @@.boy;"...Beer?"@@ he repeats. You nod, trying your best to keep a straight face. @@.player;"Yeah. Just one."@@ The guy squints at you. @@.boy;"Didn't you just get out of a high school Homecoming game?"@@ @@.player;"...Yeah,"@@ you admit. He gives you a long, unamused look. @@.boy;"Yeah, you're not old enough for beer."@@ Before you can say anything else, he turns and walks off, muttering something under his breath about teenagers. Next to you, Jordan lets out a short bark of laughter. He leans forward on his stool, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"Did you really think you were gonna get away with that?"@@ You crack up, the ridiculousness of it finally catching up with you. @@.player;"I mean, it was worth a shot."@@ @@.jordan;"You didn't even have a fake ID or anything,"@@ Jordan says, grinning. @@.jordan;"You just asked."@@ @@.player;"Maybe I've got that kind of face,"@@ you say with a shrug. @@.player;"Mature. Responsible. Deserving of beer."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, you do ''not'' got that kind of face,"@@ he responds. @@.player;"Ouch,"@@ you say. He chuckles again, shaking his head and leaning back. @@.jordan;"Should've gone with milk."@@ @@.player;"You would've judged me for that, too,"@@ you state. @@.jordan;"Oh, absolutely,"@@ he says without missing a beat. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Hangout 3">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "Game2CheerSquad">>\ <<set $csquadbond to Math.clamp($csquadbond + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You drift toward Lane 11, where the cheer squad has already made themselves perfectly at home. Mia, Tori, Ashley, and some other girls occupy the lane like it's a throne room. @@.girl;"Look who finally came to the winning lane,"@@ Mia says the moment you step into view, her voice smooth. She's lounging across the couch, arms draped dramatically behind her head. Ashley tilts her chin in greeting, cool as ever. @@.girl;"You made the wise choice,"@@ she says, voice low and dry. Tori waves at you. @@.girl;"$name! We were just about to summon you physically. We all closed our eyes and chanted your name, didn't we, Mia?"@@ Mia rolls her eyes. @@.girl;"We didn't."@@ Ashley tosses a crumped up napkin at her. @@.girl;"She did."@@ You can't help but smile. The vibe here is different from the other groups. It feels easy and bright. Tori hops up from her seat, grabs a swirly green bowling ball that looks like it was churned from toxic sludge, and marches up to the lane. @@.girl;"Watch and be amazed,"@@ she declares. @@.girl;"This ball has chosen me."@@ She plants her feet in a truly terrible stance, wiggles her fingers, and releases the ball. It wobbles its way down the lane like a drunk puppy, veers wildly toward the edge, and somehow gets seven pins. Everyone cheers. Tori spins around, arms raised triumphantly. @@.girl;"Did I not just tell you the ball and I are spiritually linked?"@@ @@.girl;"I hate that it worked,"@@ Mia mutters. Ashley shrugs. @@.girl;"Chaos gets results."@@ Tori blows a kiss and plops back into her seat. @@.girl;"Okay, Ash, your turn!"@@ Ashley rises with the grace of someone who knows she doesn't need to prove anything. She picks up a marbled blue ball and glides to the front. Her form is fluid, unbothered, and confident. When she releases the ball, it rolls clean and straight, knocking down eight pins in a single, crisp hit. @@.girl;"Calculated,"@@ she says, barely reacting. Mia claps twice. The other girls go, and a lot of balls end up guttering. Eventually, though, it's your time to shine. @@.girl;"Now it's your turn, mystery girl,"@@ Mia says smugly, looking at you directly. You laugh under your breath and grab a ball, feeling the weight of it in your hands. It's heavy and a little awkward to hold, but you steady your fingers in the holes and take a few steps toward the lane. Behind you, you hear Tori whisper loudly, @@.girl;"Everyone hush. History's about to be made."@@ Ashley adds, @@.girl;"No pressure or anything."@@ You glance back at them. @@.player;"That is extremely comforting, thank you."@@ Mia grins. @@.girl;"You're welcome."@@ You step up to the edge of the lane. You bend your knees, square your shoulders, and prepare to let the ball fly. <<button "Deliver it!" "Day 19 - Hangout Squad 2">><</button>>

<<if $athleticism > 69>>\ The ball feels natural in your hand. It's balance and smooth, almost like it's responding to your movements before you even fully commit to them. You take a breath, shift your weight, and step forward. The motion is fluid, a little more graceful than expected for someone who's only bowled a handful of times before. You release the ball with a clean, practiced flick of the wrist, and it glies down the lane like it's on a mission. It's not too fast or too slow. It curves ever so slightly, angling into the pins. ''CRACK.'' The sound is sharp and satisfying. Pins scatter. Nine go down instantly, the lone survivor wobbling on its base before stubbornly deciding to stay upright. You blink. @@.player;"Huh,"@@ you say, barely suppressing a grin. @@.player;"That felt kinda nice."@@ Behind you, there's a pause. A long stunned silence. Then— @@.girl;"Oh my God,"@@ Mia says flatly. @@.girl;"Of course."@@ Tori lets out an exaggerated groan and collapses into her chair like she's just been personally betrayed. @@.girl;"Why are you good at everything?"@@ Ashley squints at the pins, arms folded. @@.girl;"Nine on your first try? You sure you're not lowkey a professional?"@@ You walk back to them, trying to keep a straight face, but a grin is definitely starting to show. @@.player;"I mean, I don't know,"@@ you say innocently. @@.player;"Maybe I'm just naturally gifted."@@ Mia shoots you a sharp look. @@.girl;"You just stroll into cheerleading, and do a flip. Strolls into bowling and knocks down a whole family of pins. Next you're gonna tell me you have a 4.0 GPA and knit sweaters for orphans on weekends."@@ @@.player;"I'm not perfect, though,"@@ you reply, chuckling. @@.player;"I didn't get the last pin."@@ Ashley raises an eyebrow. @@.girl;"Wow. So humble."@@ Tori throws a handful of popcorn at you. @@.girl;"Get out of here with your balance and coordination and inner core strength or whatever. Some of us are just trying to live!"@@ @@.player;"I'm just here to bowl, man,"@@ you say, throwing your hands up. <<else>>\ You steady yourself at the edge of the lane, gripping the ball a little too tight. It's heavier than you thought it'd be. Awkward and unbalanced, like it's just waiting to slip right out of your fingers. You try to mimic what you've seen the others do, but your arm is stiff, your shoes are too slippery, and your legs numb. Everything just feels a little... off. You start your approach, taking one step before immediately regretting it. Your pace is weirdly choppy, like your body's forgotten how walking works. You try to salvage it, swinging the ball forward with a bit of momentum, but it ends of slipping early. Way early. The ball thuds to the floor with a loud //clunk// and spins wildly off-course, wobbling toward the left gutter. There's a brief moment where it //almost// looks like it might veer back toward the center, until it doesn't. It kisses the edge of the lane and drops straight into the gutter with a dull echo. @@.girl;"Oh nooo,"@@ Tori wails like a soap opera actress. Mia just mutters, @@.girl;"Tragic."@@ Ashley, to her credit, doesn't laugh. But she does raise one eyebrow. @@.girl;"You okay there? With your luck, I thought you'd strike."@@ @@.player;"That was worse than I expected,"@@ you say, sighing. @@.girl;"Honestly?"@@ Tori says, grinning as she leans over the ball return. @@.girl;"If the gutter wasn't there, I think it might've looped back and hit you."@@ Mia crosses her arms. @@.girl;"That was less of a throw and more of a surrender."@@ You gesture helplessly at the lane. @@.player;"The ball's, like, heavier than it looks, alright? And my wrist... I don't know. My wrist just..."@@ Ashley nods solemnly. @@.girl;"Sudden wrist pain, how tragic."@@ @@.player;"I am never living this down, am I?"@@ you ask, groaning and slumping into the torn-up seat. @@.girl;"Absolutely not,"@@ Mia says. @@.girl;"Not a chance,"@@ Tori echoes cheerfully. Ashley shrugs. @@.girl;"Maybe if you get a strike next time, we'll consider pretending this never happened."@@ You roll your eyes, but there's a smile tugging at your lips anyway. Because even though you guttered the ball in the most humiliating way possible, it still feels okay. Like you're in on the joke, not the butt of it. @@.girl;"You're up again in a few minutes, you know,"@@ Mia says, nudging your shoulder. You groan louder. @@.player;"Do I //have// to?"@@ @@.girl;"Yes,"@@ Ashley says flatly. @@.girl;"For character development."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Hangout Squad 3">><</button>>

Mia lets out a triumphant laugh as the final scores flash across the screen, arms raised. @@.girl;"Yes! Yes! Bow down, peasants!"@@ she exclaims, spinning in place and striking a pose. @@.girl;"The queen of pins reigns supreme!"@@ Tori groans. @@.girl;"This is the worst timeline."@@ @@.girl;"I was robbed,"@@ Ashley mutters under her breath, shaking her head. @@.girl;"There were at least two rolls where that ball clearly defied physics."@@ You grin, tossing a popcorn kernel into your mouth. @@.player;"Or maybe Mia's just cracked."@@ @@.girl;"Thank you, thank you,"@@ Mia says, tossing imaginary roses to the crowd. @@.girl;"I'll be here all night."@@ @@.girl;"Unfortunately,"@@ Ashley adds dryly, though there's a small smirk at the corner of her mouth. Tori sits back in the booth with a sigh. @@.girl;"Okay, fine. I can live with losing. But now I demand snacks. Victory or not, bowling is hungry work."@@ Mia gasps. @@.girl;"Yes. Food. I used my brain and my muscles for that win. I deserve something deep-fried."@@ @@.girl;"Nachos sound good,"@@ Ashley says. @@.girl;"Ooh, pizza,"@@ Tori chimes in. @@.girl;"Bowling pizza is its own genre. It's sooo good."@@ @@.girl;"I'm kinda leaning toward fries,"@@ Mia says, tapping her chin. @@.girl;"Big plate with cheese and bacon on top."@@ Tori swings her legs, looking from you to the menu. @@.girl;"What about you, $name? You've been mysteriously quiet in this high-stakes snack debate."@@ You shrug, laughing. @@.player;"I'm just trying to survive the food drama."@@ @@.girl;"Well, you gotta choose,"@@ Mia says, nudging you. @@.girl;"You're the tiebreaker. The decider. The bringer of snack justice."@@ Ashley nods. @@.girl;"Yeah, we can't order everything."@@ @@.girl;"Your destiny awaits!"@@ Tori says, pointing dramatically. <<button "Get Cheesy Nachos" "Day 19 - Hangout Squad 4">>\<<set $d19squadfood to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_squad_food" "nachos" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get Bowling Pizza" "Day 19 - Hangout Squad 4">>\<<set $d19squadfood to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_squad_food" "pizza" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get Loaded Fries" "Day 19 - Hangout Squad 4">>\<<set $d19squadfood to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_squad_food" "fries" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d19squadfood is 0>>\ Ashley nods decisively as you say the words: @@.player;"Let's get nachos."@@ @@.girl;"Good choice,"@@ she says, already standing up. @@.girl;"Classic. Reliable. Can't go wrong with melted cheese."@@ Mia throws her hands up. @@.girl;"Ughhh, fine. But I still think we should've gotten fries. Like, with the works."@@ @@.girl;"We're already getting the works,"@@ Ashley replies coolly. @@.girl;"It's just melted on corn chips instead of potato fries."@@ Tori shrugs. @@.girl;"I'll take it. As long as it comes with questionable amounts of cheese, I'm good."@@ You all head toward the counter, where the same tired-looking college-aged employee from earlier is still manning the food stand, now visibly more dead inside than he was twenty minutes ago. His eyes widen slightly as the four of you approach. @@.boy;"Uh,"@@ he begins, voice lifeless. @@.boy;"Please tell me you're just here for napkins."@@ @@.girl;"A nacho platter please,"@@ Ashley says, calm as ever. He sighs, reaching for the register. @@.boy;"Of course you are."@@ Before he can tap it in, Roman swoops in from seemingly nowhere. @@.boy;"Ah! Nachos! Very good, very American choice! You know, in Serbia we do not have such thing. We just eat the corn, yes?"@@ He slaps the counter with both hands, startling the college kids. @@.boy;"I love it. I add to bill."@@ He winks at you as he marches off with the order slip in hand, shouting toward the kitchen, @@.boy;"One special tray of cheesy national pride!"@@ You make your way back to the table, half-laughing as Mia slumps dramatically into the booth. @@.girl;"I have mixed thoughts on Roman. I kind of want him to narrate my life. I think it'd be interesting."@@ @@.girl;"Roman wouldn't just narrate your life,"@@ Tori says. @@.girl;"He'd scream it into a megaphone."@@ Ashley just slides into her seat without a word, arms crossed like she's already preparing for the nachos. When the tray finally arrives, it is beautiful. Glorious. A shimmering golden mound of tortilla chips, smothered in gooey cheddar and mozzarella, dotted with jalapeños. There's a dollop of sour cream on one side, a swirl of guacamole on the other, and more than enough salsa to go around. Even Mia has to stop and admire it. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Okay, maybe you have taste."@@ @@.player;"That's a big compliment coming from you,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.girl;"I said //maybe//. Don't get ahead of yourself."@@ Tori grabs a chip, already stringing a melted strand of cheese halfway to her mouth. @@.girl;"I feel like this is what winning tastes like."@@ Ashley plucks a chip off the top. @@.girl;"And this is why nachos always win. The structure, the texture, the distribution of toppings. It's perfect."@@ You're halfway through your first chip when Mia sighs, savoring the cheese. @@.girl;"Fine. $name made a good choice."@@ You try to act humble. @@.player;"Thank you. I try."@@ She narrows her eyes. @@.girl;"Don't get used to it."@@ The four of you dig in, laughter bubbling up between bites. It's just you and the squad on a cheap tattered couch under the buzz of flickering bowling alley lights. <<elseif $d19squadfood is 1>>\ The moment you say, @@.player;"Let's get the pizza,"@@ Tori slaps her palms on the table and practically jumps out of her seat. @@.girl;"Yes! $name, you genius!"@@ she exclaims. @@.girl;"You have taste. Like, actual taste. I knew I trusted you for a reason."@@ Ashley raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but doesn't object. @@.girl;"Alright. As long as it's not one of those cardboard pizzas they leave under a heat lamp for several hours."@@ Mia, arms crossed, snorts. @@.girl;"It's bowling alley pizza. Prepare your standards accordingly."@@ You make your way to the counter, your little trio shuffling behind you, and come face-to-face with the emotionally defeated college-aged employee. He sees your approach and visibly braces himself. @@.boy;"Please don't say it,"@@ he mutters before you're even fully in earshot. @@.boy;"Please don't say the word."@@ You smile innocently. @@.player;"Can we get a pizza?"@@ The guy lets out a long, tortured breath. @@.boy;"Yeah. Sure. Of course you can."@@ But just like before, Roman materializes out of nowhere like a magician. His giant eyebrows are practically flapping from excitement. @@.boy;"Pizza!"@@ he booms. @@.boy;"Yes yes! Bellissimo! You know, in Serbia we have many opinions about pizza. Some say too much cheese, some say not enough. I say that it is art! It is like... Italy and America had beautiful love child and baked it in oven!"@@ He places a hand over his heart. @@.boy;"I will make for you special pizza. Best pizza in entire city of Crestview Bay!"@@ @@.boy;"There are a lot of authentic pizza places here,"@@ the employee says. @@.boy;"They probably taste better then what we whip up in the back."@@ Roman ignores him entirely. @@.boy;"I put toppings! Many toppings! Pepperoni, mushroom, onion, and more! Whatever you want! No charge! It is Homecoming! It is special night!"@@ @@.player;"We'll just take whatever's most popular,"@@ you say before he starts listing every ingredient in existence. @@.boy;"Yes!"@@ Roman exclaims, clapping his hands. @@.boy;"I love it. I make it beautiful. I add to bill."@@ He spins off dramatically toward the kitchen, shouting something in Serbian, and the smell of bread and cheese soon starts wafting through the air. Back at the table, the four of you slide into the booth again, bantering while you wait. Tori is practically vibrating with excitement. @@.girl;"Do you think they're gonna give us, like, the fun cheese? You know the one that stretches all long and gooey like in commercials?"@@ @@.girl;"I'm more worried about whether it'll be edible,"@@ Mia says, arms still crossed. Ashley leans back. @@.girl;"Roman said he'd make it beautiful. I'm holding him to that."@@ Eventually, the man himself emerges from the back, red-faced and triumphant, balancing a large tray. @@.boy;"Behold! Pizza of champions! I put my soul in crust!"@@ You take the tray from him with a grateful nod. To your surprise, it actually looks good. Like, //really// good. The crust is golden and crisp, the cheese is bubbling in all the right ways, and there's a generous layer of pepperoni, peppers, and onions all layered evenly. It's steaming hot, smells incredible, and looks like it came out of an actual pizzeria oven. Tori grabs the first slice and lets out a delighted squeal as a long strand of cheese follows. @@.girl;"It's happening. My taste buds are ascending."@@ Ashley takes a bite and pauses, eyebrows lifting. @@.girl;"Okay. This is better than it has any right to be."@@ Even Mia, who made a point to be unimpressed, chews slowly and mutters, @@.girl;"I hate how much I like this."@@ You grin, sliding a slice onto your plate. The first bite hits with a salty, cheesy, slightly spicy mix of perfection. It's not gourmet, but for a random bowling alley pizza, it might as well have 3 Michelin Stars. @@.player;"Well,"@@ you say, leaning back with a smirk. @@.player;"I make good choices."@@ Tori gives you a mock bow. @@.girl;"All hail $name, Bringer of Pizza."@@ Ashley raises her soda in a toast. @@.girl;"To edible miracles."@@ And as you all dig in, laughing and arguing over who gets the slice with the most toppings, the bowling alley hums around you. Neon lights, thudding pins, and the comfortable rhythm of a night well-spent. <<elseif $d19squadfood is 2>>\ The second you say, @@.player;"Let's just get the fries,"@@ Mia flashes a victorious smile so smug it's blinding. @@.girl;"Knew I liked you,"@@ she says, already pushing back from the table like her word is final. @@.girl;"Finally, someone with taste."@@ Tori groans, flopping forward in exaggerated despair. @@.girl;"We could've had pizza. Cheesy, stretchy, golden pizza. $name, I thought we were friends."@@ @@.girl;"Fries are safe,"@@ Ashley says, just shrugging. @@.girl;"Hard to mess up fried potatoes."@@ Together, you make your way toward the snack counter again. The employee behind it, poor soul, sees the group approaching and slumps forward. He lifts his head with all the enthusiasm of a man facing a firing squad. @@.boy;"Let me guess,"@@ he says, already reaching for the grease-stained fry basket. @@.boy;"Fries."@@ @@.player;"Fries!"@@ you confirm with a grin. @@.girl;"Lots of toppings,"@@ Mia adds with a devilish glint in her eye. @@.girl;"We're taking cheese. Chili. Jalapeños. Maybe even some ranch drizzle."@@ Tori's mood instantly rebounds. @@.girl;"Ooh, can we get the curly ones too? Or like, a crinkle-cut mix?"@@ @@.boy;"Yeah, sure, let me just open up all the bags real quick,"@@ the employee mutters, punching in your order. Before he can finish sighing, Roman bursts through the double doors again, eyes wide, arms flailing. @@.boy;"Fries!"@@ he bellows. @@.boy;"Yes! The humble potato! A food of great culture! French in name, but American in spirit! The crunch, the grease, the salt, all of it! It is like music for the tongue!"@@ He plants a firm hand on the counter, his other arm already gesturing wildly. @@.boy;"You know what we do for Homecoming heroes? We bless them! I give you cheese! I give you sauces! I give you mountain of flavor!"@@ The college worker groans. @@.boy;"That means I have to—"@@ @@.boy;"You shut mouth!"@@ Roman roars. @@.boy;"They are champions! You are potato assistant!"@@ You try not to laugh as the toppings pile up. Cheddar, diced onions, little crumbles of bacon, chili, and even a zigzag of ranch for chaos. It's a glorious, greasy masterpiece by the time it's passed over in a massive cardboard tray. You and the others bring it back to the lane. Everyone leans in, inspecting the fry mountain like it's something special. Tori snatches the first bite. @@.girl;"Oh my God. This is divine. This is, like, fries from heaven."@@ Ashley nods, already chewing. @@.girl;"Not bad."@@ @@.girl;"See?"@@ Mia says, smirking. @@.girl;"Good choice."@@ You grab your own handful. They're still hot, the cheese perfectly gooey, the chili a little spicy, and the fries underneath still crisp despite the mountain of toppings. It's rich and comforting and messy in all the best ways. You glance down at the tray and grin. @@.player;"I think Roman might've actually gone overboard."@@ @@.girl;"And yet, no regrets,"@@ Ashley says, wiping some sauce off her cheek. Mia leans back, smug again. @@.girl;"Still think pizza would've been better?"@@ @@.girl;"Okay, fine, maybe this was worth it."@@ Tori admits, shrugging. You just laugh, the warm hum of the bowling alley surrounding you. For a post-game hangout on a Friday night, it doesn't get much better than this. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Hangout 3">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 19>>\ <<set $bind to false>>\ You wake up feeling like you got hit by a truck. Not in the way that signifies that something's wrong, luckily. Just that full-body ache that comes after spending way too long on your feet. Your legs feel stiff. Your shoulders are sore. Even your arms have that low, tired heaviness to them. You stretch under the covers, wincing a little as your spine cracks from the motion. Yesterday was a lot. You fumble for your phone without looking, squinting as the screen lights up way too bright for this hour. There's a dull buzz of notifications, but the one from Pacific Crest High's official app is the one that catches your eye. ''⚠️ FINAL DAY OF HOMECOMING WEEK — TODAY IS BESTIE TWINNING DAY!'' ''✨ Find your best bud and bring something that MATCHES! ✨ Outfits, accessories, even just a keychain.'' ''Get creative for the end of #HomecomingWeek'' You blink at it, still half-asleep. Then blink again. @@.player;"Bestie Twinning Day?"@@ You groan out loud and drop the phone onto your chest. Of course. This stupid school and its stupid ideas. First backpacks, then desk pets, now... twinning. Still, there's something charming about it. Dumb, sure, but in an endearing way. Honestly, you can already picture a few people going ''way'' too hard with it, and the chaos is good to see. You pick your phone back up and open your messages. No one's texted about it. Yet. Maybe you should beat them to it. <<button "Text Luke" "Day 19 - 2">>\<<set $d19twinning to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_outfit_twin" "luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Text Samantha" "Day 19 - 2">>\<<set $d19twinning to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_outfit_twin" "samantha" "story">><</button>> <<button "Text Jessica" "Day 19 - 2">>\<<set $d19twinning to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_outfit_twin" "jessica" "story">><</button>> <<button "Text Vincent" "Day 19 - 2">>\<<set $d19twinning to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D19_outfit_twin" "vincent" "story">><</button>> <<button "Text Aurora" "Day 19 - 2">>\<<set $d19twinning to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D19_outfit_twin" "aurora" "story">><</button>> <<button "Text Jordan" "Day 19 - 2">>\<<set $d19twinning to 5>>\<<trackChoice "D19_outfit_twin" "jordan" "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't really want to twin" "Day 19 - 2">>\<<set $d19twinning to 6>>\<<trackChoice "D19_outfit_twin" "noone" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<if $d12tellbff is true>>\ <<set $cheerbffknow to true>>\ <<if $d19lunchq is true>>\ @@.player;"Luke,"@@ you say casually, @@.player;"do you want lip gloss? I can bring you some."@@ He freezes, mid-chew. @@.luke;"Uhhh..."@@ His eyes then flick toward you, then to Samantha, then back again like you just offered him a loaded grenade. Samantha leans forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. @@.samantha;"I can apply it for you, if you want,"@@ she offers sweetly. Luke jerks back. @@.luke;"Uhhhhh, I think I'll just stick to football, thanks."@@ You raise your brows. @@.player;"Come on, just a little. Clear gloss. You won't even notice it's there. Make your lips look healthier."@@ @@.luke;"Healthier?"@@ Luke exclaims, horrified. @@.luke;"What does that even mean? I don't want shiny lips! People will think I'm sick!"@@ @@.samantha;"Right, because that's definitely the most concerning part,"@@ Samantha deadpans. You smirk. @@.player;"I mean, it's not like we'd force it on you."@@ @@.luke;"That's //exactly// what someone who's planning to force lip gloss on me would say,"@@ Luke mutters, narrowing his eyes. Samantha's smile turns downright evil. @@.samantha;"Sleep with one eye open."@@ @@.luke;"Nope!"@@ Luke says, startled. @@.luke;"Nope. I'm not falling for this. I'm locking my windows tonight."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"What do you think we're gonna do, crawl in and ambush you with a makeover kit?"@@ Luke doesn't answer right away. He just stares at both of you, face full of suspicion. @@.luke;"Honestly? I wouldn't put it past either of you. One minute I'm dreaming about nachos, the next i wake up with winged eyeliner and kissable lips."@@ @@.samantha;"Well, I think that would be an improvement,"@@ Samantha says with a shrug. @@.player;"You'd be fabulous,"@@ you add helpfully. Luke buries his face in his hands. @@.luke;"This is harassment. I'm being bullied by my two best friends."@@ You grin and take a sip of water. @@.player;"Welcome to lunch."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Hey, Samantha,"@@ you say with a smirk. Samantha doesn't even look up from her food. @@.samantha;"No."@@ You blink. @@.player;"I didn't even say anything yet."@@ @@.samantha;"I heard the tone. I'm preemptively rejecting whatever dumb thing is about to come out of your mouth."@@ You ignore her. @@.player;"Samantha,"@@ you say, like you're pondering something serious, @@.player;"how do you think you'd look in a cheer uniform?"@@ She freezes mid-chew. Then she raises her head to look at you, eyes narrowed. @@.samantha;"No. No, no, no, that's //your// thing. You're the one rocking the uniform with all the girls. Leave me and my beat-up sneakers out of this."@@ @@.player;"Just asking!"@@ you justify. @@.player;"For science."@@ Luke squints at her, head tilted like he's trying to visualize it. @@.luke;"Huh... Actually, I don't think you'd be bad."@@ Samantha whirls on him. @@.samantha;"Stop imagining me in a cheer uniform."@@ Luke physically recoils, his whole body jerking backward like he just got punched. @@.luke;"Agh! I wasn't, I mean, not in a weird way! It's just, like, you know..."@@ He lets out a whimper. @@.luke;"$name, help me. She's gonna eat me alive."@@ @@.player;"You brought that one on yourself,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.luke;"I was being nice!"@@ Luke insists. @@.luke;"I said she'd be good at it!"@@ @@.samantha;"I would rather join a tax seminar,"@@ Samantha says, deadpan. @@.samantha;"Actually, no. A pyramid scheme. I'd sooner sell diet pills on Instagram before I ever do synchronized clapping in a mini skirt."@@ @@.player;"I mean, you do have the spirit down,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That's, like, half of cheerleading."@@ @@.samantha;"Spirit?"@@ Samantha asks, befuddled. @@.samantha;"Me?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"In the form of sarcasm."@@ @@.samantha;"Careful,"@@ Samantha states. @@.samantha;"I know everything about you."@@ Luke shifts an inch further from her. You, on the other hand, can't help laughing. @@.player;"Okay, okay, noted. No cheer uniform for Samantha."@@ @@.samantha;"Damn right,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"I'm the background character that heckles from the bleachers. That's where //I// belong."@@ Luke finally exhales, cautiously leaning back toward the table. @@.luke;"Man... you're intense."@@ @@.samantha;"And you're soft,"@@ Samantha says. Luke immediately nods. @@.luke;"That's fair."@@ This might not be the most conventional trio in the school, but it works. Somehow, it really does. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d19lunchq is true>>\ <<set $cheerbffknow to true>>\ You glance at Samantha, then Luke, then take a breath. @@.player;"That cheerleader,"@@ you say, voice even, @@.player;"the new girl with the black hair?"@@ Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Yeah?"@@ @@.samantha;"...What about her?"@@ Samantha asks. You clear your throat. @@.player;"That girl's actually me."@@ There's a beat of silence. Luke's face goes blank, then scrunches like he misheard you. @@.luke;"Yeah, bro, stop joking."@@ @@.player;"I'm not joking."@@ Luke laughs like he's waiting for a punchline. @@.luke;"Wait, what do you mean, 'you'? Like, she looked like you? Or like—"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you cut in. @@.player;"I mean it literally. I was the one in the uniform."@@ Luke opens his mouth, then closes it again. His eyebrows knit together in visible confusion. Samantha's eyes, on the other hand, narrows slightly. She tilts her head, like she's mentally layering everything together—the disappearing act and the mystery cheerleader's features. @@.samantha;"...Wait,"@@ she says slowly. @@.samantha;"Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. $name's telling the truth."@@ Luke turns toward her. @@.luke;"Samantha, c'mon—"@@ @@.samantha;"No, think about it!"@@ she says, leaning forward now. @@.samantha;"Black hair, brown eyes, same height, same build. $name wasn't there on game day. You said the cheerleader looked //kinda// like him, remember?"@@ Luke squints, mouth opening just a little. @@.luke;"...Oh my God."@@ You shrug, suddenly feeling a lot more awkward than you thought you would. @@.player;"Yeah. Jessica needed someone to fill in, and I said yes."@@ Luke stares at you, then slowly turns red. @@.luke;"Okay, um, uhh, when I said she was cute, I didn't know it was you, okay? That's not, like, dude, I didn't mean it like that—"@@ Samantha starts //cackling//. You grin despite yourself. @@.player;"Relax, man. I'm not mad."@@ Luke still looks horrified. @@.luke;"I CALLED YOU A $temp1 OUT OF 10."@@ @@.player;"I'll take it as a compliment,"@@ you say dryly. @@.luke;"Oh my God,"@@ he mutters, hands over his face. Samantha wipes tears from her eyes. @@.samantha;"This is //so// good. This is the best possible outcome. I cannot believe I missed it."@@ Luke peeks between his fingers. @@.luke;"So you're a cheerleader now?"@@ You shrug again. @@.player;"I guess I am. It started as a favor, but I'm sticking around for at least a little longer."@@ There's another pause. Then Luke drops his hands and beams. @@.luke;"Well, damn, bro. That's //sick//. You're out here with pom-poms and stuff?"@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Yeah. Pom-poms and everything."@@ @@.samantha;"You know what?"@@ Samantha says with a smirk. @@.samantha;"I respect it. Way more school spirit than either of us has."@@ @@.luke;"Dude,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"You're like... secretly cool. Like Hannah Montana, but in reverse."@@ @@.player;"...Thanks, I think?"@@ He just grins. @@.luke;"Can I see the uniform next time?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you state firmly. Luke pouts. <<else>>\ @@.player;"That girl did pretty well, huh?"@@ you say, keeping your tone light, like you're just another spectator. @@.player;"I heard she had good energy and solid jumps."@@ Samantha nods, propping her chin in one hand. @@.samantha;"Yeah, she wasn't bad. Honestly? Better than a lot of the freshmen I've seen. She didn't seem to mess up the formations either. Definitely impressive considering Jessica was complaining about being down a squad member for ages."@@ Luke leans across the table like he's about to share a secret. @@.luke;"And she was cute,"@@ he says with a grin. @@.luke;"She's Asian, too. Definitely my type."@@ Samantha groans. @@.samantha;"Congratulations, Luke. You've described every girl you've ever had a crush on."@@ @@.luke;"No, but like, she had black hair,"@@ he continues unfazed. @@.luke;"Like yours,"@@ he adds, pointing at you. @@.luke;"Sort of the same height, too..."@@ You freeze mid-chew. Slowly, you look up from your tray. @@.player;"Lots of people have black hair,"@@ you say carefully, trying to sound amused rather than panicked. Samantha frowns, narrowing her eyes in thought. @@.samantha;"You know... we don't actually have that many Asian girls at our school."@@ @@.player;"Uh-huh,"@@ you say, feeling your throat tighten slightly. @@.samantha;"And she's not in any of my classes,"@@ Samantha adds, eyes narrowing a fraction more as she leans slightly forward. @@.samantha;"I haven't seen her around in the hallways either. Maybe she's new or something?"@@ You shift uncomfortably. @@.player;"Could be. I mean, maybe she transferred in? Or just doesn't take the same routes. The school is pretty big, after all."@@ Samantha is quiet for a second, her gaze locked on your face like she's trying to line something up. You feel your stomach knot. She squints slightly. Then, right as you're preparing to deflect or fake a coughing fit, Luke cuts in. @@.luke;"Ohhh, wait, I figured it out. What if she's actually a ghost?"@@ he says, completely serious. @@.luke;"Like, haunting the field. That'd explain why nobody's seen her before. She only appears during football games."@@ @@.samantha;"You think the cheer squad is fielding a ghost as backup?"@@ Samantha asks, turning to him slowly. Luke nods. @@.luke;"She could've died doing a backflip. Now she's doomed to cheer forever."@@ You immediately latch onto the nonsense. @@.player;"That would make a great horror book."@@ @@.luke;"Like //Goosebumps//?"@@ Luke asks. Samantha groans again, rubbing her temples. @@.samantha;"I swear, I lose IQ points every time I listen to you talk."@@ @@.player;"But imagine the headline,"@@ you say, grinning now. @@.player;"It would be something like 'She's got spirit... and it's literally haunting.'"@@ @@.samantha;"You know what? I'll allow that one,"@@ Samantha says. The conversation veers off completely into ghost puns after that, and you find yourself relaxing again. You didn't blow your cover, but that was ''way'' too close. Samantha's sharp, and Luke... well, Luke's Luke. Still, you glance at them both now, smiling faintly as Luke starts loudly speculating whether ghosts can do splits. For now, the secret's safe. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Cheerleader 1">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<if $d19lunchq is true>>\ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'll go."@@ There's a split second of silence before Luke practically explodes with excitement. @@.luke;"YESSS!"@@ he shouts, nearly knocking over his tray. @@.luke;"Dude! That's what I'm talking about! It's gonna be ''so'' good, you won't regret it! There's gonna be food, music, dance battles. Okay, don't tell anyone, but I heard the school booked that one guy who does tricks on a unicycle. It's gonna be epic."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Unicycle tricks?"@@ @@.luke;"I swear to God that it's amazing,"@@ Luke says, hand over heart. @@.luke;"I saw it on TV last year. Changed my life."@@ Samantha snorts before speaking up. @@.samantha;"I guess I'll come too. Though it'll be kind of a tragic post-game celebration, huh?"@@ Luke stops mid-drink. @@.luke;"What?"@@ @@.samantha;"You know,"@@ she says casually, not even looking up. @@.samantha;"Since you're definitely gonna lose."@@ @@.luke;"Excuse me?!"@@ Luke exclaims. @@.luke;"This is slander."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm not slandering,"@@ Samantha replies smoothly. @@.samantha;"I'm just being realistic."@@ @@.luke;"$name, $name,"@@ Luke says, turning to you. @@.luke;"Tell her. Tell her we're gonna win."@@ You shrug, drawing out the silence just enough to watch Luke panic. @@.player;"I dunno..."@@ @@.luke;"$name!"@@ he whines, grabbing your arm like you've betrayed him. @@.luke;"Don't do this to me, man. Not you too."@@ You crack a small smile. @@.player;"Relax. I'm just messing with you."@@ @@.luke;"You two are gonna be the death of me,"@@ Luke murmurs. @@.samantha;"Hey, if you lose, it won't be our fault,"@@ Samantha points out. @@.samantha;"You might want to focus on catching the ball instead of catching feelings."@@ @@.luke;"I don't drop passes!"@@ Luke says. @@.player;"Not according to last week's game footage,"@@ you mutter. @@.luke;"It was knocked away by a defender!"@@ Luke says, groaning. He acts mad, pressing both palms to his face, but can't resist peeking at you through his fingers. @@.luke;"Still glad you're coming though."@@ You smile. @@.player;"You know what? Me too."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"I don't really want to go,"@@ you say, shrugging lightly. Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Wait, what? Why not?"@@ You offer a weak smile. @@.player;"I just... I dunno. I'm not really feeling it."@@ There's a beat of silence where Luke's whole face seems to crumple. @@.luke;"But dude... it's Homecoming."@@ His voice is soft and confused now. @@.luke;"It's the party. After the game. Everyone's going."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I know that,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I just don't really... wanna deal with all that. The noise, the people, the weird slow dances. And honestly? I'll probably be wiped after the game anyway. I want to rest on the weekend."@@ Luke opens his mouth, then closes it again. He just slumps back a little in his seat. @@.luke;"Man. That sucks."@@ You try to soften it. @@.player;"It's not you or anything. I'm just not in the mood for crowds lately. I might chill at home. Maybe make nachos."@@ @@.luke;"Without me?"@@ Luke asks, gasping. @@.luke;"How could you?"@@ Samantha, who's been eating her chicken during the exchange, finally speaks up. @@.samantha;"I'll probably go,"@@ she says with a shrug. @@.samantha;"But to be honest, it's probably not gonna be worth it."@@ Luke turns to her with visible betrayal. @@.luke;"Samantha! Not you too."@@ She raises a brow. @@.samantha;"What? It's gonna be hours of watching people at the snack tables."@@ @@.luke;"I like snack tables,"@@ Luke mumbles, frowning. @@.player;"Of course you do,"@@ you mutter, smiling just a little. @@.samantha;"Look, I will show up, and I //might// even pretend to be impressed,"@@ Samantha states. @@.samantha;"But if it's a flop, I'm leaving early and making $name share those nachos with me. The back-to-school party was enough for me."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"I don't recall inviting you."@@ She smirks right back. @@.samantha;"That's never stopped me before."@@ @@.luke;"Fine,"@@ Luke says, slouching. @@.luke;"But you know, when we win tonight and everyone's throwing the most epic post-game bash of the year... you two will regret not dancing in the glow of my victory."@@ @@.samantha;"Pretty sure the only glow is gonna be from the vending machine lights,"@@ Samantha says. @@.player;"And the shame of another loss,"@@ you add. Luke groans. @@.luke;"This is emotional abuse."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 1">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $faceAccessory to 69>>\ <<set $cheerlilyknow to false>>\ <<if $d19spectatorprank isnot undefined>>\ The house is quiet when you step inside, save for the gentle hum of the fridge and the faint tick of the clock. The living room lamp is still on, casting soft light over the couch. Someone must've left it on for you. You slip off your shoes, leaving them behind as you make your way upstairs. Your room is the same as you left it. The desk is cluttered with random papers, a jacket is draped over your desk, and your blanket is all kinds of messed up. You toss your backpack to the side and collapse half-sideways onto the bed. Eventually, you end up sprawled out diagonally across the mattress, legs dangling off the edge. You stare up at the ceiling for a second, just thinking. But then you hear footsteps. Light, deliberate ones padding across the hall. The door creaks open without a knock. You don't even have to look. @@.player;"Lily, seriously?"@@ She doesn't answer. She just walks in like she owns the place before stopping at the side of your bed, arms crossed. @@.lily;"Scoot,"@@ she demands. You lift your head just enough to look at her. @@.player;"Why?"@@ @@.lily;"Scoot,"@@ she repeats, more firmly this time. There's no room for negotiation in her tone. With a reluctant sigh, you roll to the side and make room. Lily climbs in without hesitation, dropping down next to you like she's done a hundred times before. You both lie there for a minute, staring at the ceiling in silence. It's a rare moment of peace for the both of you. @@.lily;"So..."@@ she says slowly, rolling onto her side to face you. @@.lily;"You ready for the big Homecoming party tomorrow?"@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"Guess so."@@ @@.lily;"That doesn't sound very ready."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It's just a party."@@ @@.lily;"Excuse me? This is ''the'' party,"@@ she corrects. @@.lily;"Capital P Party. Everyone's gonna be there. I wish I could be there."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Meh, it's just ''a'' party to me."@@ She squints at you. @@.lily;"Wait. DO you even have something to wear?"@@ @@.player;"Uhh, I'll just wear the old suit."@@ @@.lily;"...The one you got for the wedding?"@@ Lily asks, incredulous. @@.player;"Yup."@@ Lily laughs. @@.lily;"$name, that was two years ago."@@ @@.player;"So?"@@ @@.lily;"So!"@@ She props herself up on one elbow. @@.lily;"You've grown. And also, you can't wear the same thing forever."@@ @@.player;"It still fits,"@@ you mutter, a little defensive. @@.lily;"Barely,"@@ she shoots back. @@.player;"Whatever,"@@ you mumble. Lily flops down beside you, hair fanning across the pillow. @@.lily;"You must've really liked that suit then,"@@ she says, voice a little lighter now. @@.lily;"Wearing it again and again."@@ <<button "I did not like that suit" "Day 19 - 12">>\<<set $d19spectatorLily to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_lily_suit_opinion" "no like suit" "story">><</button>> <<button "It's pretty solid" "Day 19 - 12">>\<<set $d19spectatorLily to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_lily_suit_opinion" "like suit" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ The house is quiet when you step inside, save for the gentle hum of the fridge and the faint tick of the clock. The living room lamp is still on, casting soft light over the couch. Someone must've left it on for you. You slip off your shoes, your limbs heavy with exhaustion. You make your way upstairs without really thinking, climbing each step like you're on autopilot. Your room greets you with the comforting mess of the familiar. Clothes are scattered around the floor, a jacket is draped over your desk, and your blanket is all kinds of messed up. Your bed calls to you like it's the only soft thing left in the world. You collapse onto it, arms spread, letting the mattress take your full weight. The ceiling spins before your breathing catches up. You let your eyes close. But then you hear footsteps. Light, deliberate ones padding across the hall. The door creaks open without a knock. You don't even have to open your eyes. @@.player;"Lily, seriously?"@@ She doesn't answer, just walking straight in with a casual confidence. @@.lily;"Scoot,"@@ she demands. You groan, throwing an arm over your face. @@.player;"Ughhh, what is it, Lily..."@@ @@.lily;"Scoot,"@@ she repeats, more firmly this time. You sigh dramatically, but your limbs are jelly and your brain too tired to protest. You shift over without argument, dragging your blanket with you. The mattress dips as she climbs in beside you, settling in. You glance sideways at her. She's lying on her back too, arms behind her head, hair still a little wild. There's a slight smirk tugging at her lips, like she's already preparing something. <<if $d11cheerleadingLily is true>>\ <<set $cheerlilyknow to true>>\ @@.lily;"So. How was cheerleading?"@@ You blink, caught off guard for half a second, before remembering that you have told her. About a week ago, right after that whirlwind of a first practice where everything had started feeling real. @@.player;"Honestly? It was really good,"@@ you say, smiling a little. @@.player;"We nailed our halftime routine, the energy was super high, and Pacific Crest crushed it. We won, easy."@@ Lily whistles, clearly impressed. @@.lily;"Yeah, I saw it on Insta. You guys blew out Sierra Heights. A lot of my friends reposted highlights on reels."@@ @@.player;"Of course they did,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.lily;"Guess the Homecoming party's gonna be sweet, huh?"@@ she says, shrugging. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Tomorrow's gonna go crazy. Everyone's going to be hyped."@@ The room settles again. You and Lily lie there, side by side, your arms occasionally bumping, like siblings do when neither wants to say they like the company but neither one moves away. She's the first to break the silence again. @@.lily;"So what's the schedule like now? You've got more games coming up, right?"@@ You turn your head toward her. @@.player;"Yea. Two away games. Then we've got another home game in... three weeks, I think?"@@ Lily hums in thought, then turns to look at you, expression suddenly serious in that way she gets when she's about to say something that matters. @@.lily;"Think I could come?"@@ she asks. @@.lily;"Y'know. To watch you cheer. See the whole thing for myself."@@ She says it like it's no big deal, but her voice has that hint of curiosity underneath. You hesitate, not because you don't want her there, but because... well. You'll have to decide. <<button "Sure, you can come" "Day 19 - 12">>\<<set $d19cheerleadingLilyattend to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_lily_attend_cheer" true "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't know..." "Day 19 - 12">>\<<set $d19cheerleadingLilyattend to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_lily_attend_cheer" false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.lily;"So,"@@ she says, tone deceptively casual. @@.lily;"How was the Homecoming game?"@@ You blink at the ceiling, trying to decide on the safest answer. @@.player;"We won."@@ She scoffs. @@.lily;"Yeah, no duh. I saw the post on the school Insta. Pacific Crest demolishes Sierra Heights, blah blah blah."@@ She rolls onto her side, glaring at you now. @@.lily;"I meant, how was it to watch the game?"@@ You swallow. The ceiling suddenly looks very interesting. @@.player;"I mean,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"It was fine."@@ @@.lily;"You were gone a while."@@ @@.player;"Yeah."@@ @@.lily;"The game ended at nine."@@ @@.player;"...Yeah."@@ She stares. @@.lily;"It's midnight."@@ You freeze. You didn't even realize it was that late. Your whole body still hums with adrenaline. You're not sure how to begin unraveling all of it, especially not with your little sister grilling you. @@.player;"Uhhh..."@@ you try. She raises an eyebrow. @@.lily;"That's your answer? Uhhh?"@@ There's something dangerous in her tone now. Not angry, but knowing. This is the Lily who used to blackmail you for snack money in elementary school. The Lily who once found your hidden Halloween candy stash and made a spreadsheet about how it would be rationed between the two of you. The Lily who always seems to know when you're hiding something. She props herself up on one elbow. @@.lily;"Wanna tell me what really happened?"@@ You glance over at her, seeing the little glint of mischief in her eyes. You could lie. You could dodge. You could try and brush it off. But Lily Yoon doesn't fall for that. And now you're left sitting there with one very determined sister waiting for the truth. <<button "Tell her the truth" "Day 19 - 12">>\<<set $d19cheerleadingLily to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_lily_cheer_truth" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Deflect" "Day 19 - 12">>\<<set $d19cheerleadingLily to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_lily_cheer_truth" false "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

<<if $d19spectatorprank isnot undefined>>\ <<if $d19spectatorLily is true>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I did ''not'' like that suit."@@ You didn't mean to say it with so much force, but the words come out sharper than you expected. The moment they're out, you feel Lily shift next to you, turning her head to look at you more directly. @@.lily;"Huh?"@@ she says, not judgmental, just surprised by the change in tone. @@.lily;"Why not? I mean, it looked fine. I guess. Kinda tacky."@@ You let out a soft breath, staring up at the ceiling. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you start, voice quiet. @@.player;"I just hated how I felt in it."@@ Lily doesn't say anything, so you keep going, words coming slowly. @@.player;"I remember putting it on and looking in the mirror and just feeling... off. Like, not ugly or anything, just wrong. I tried fixing my tie, straightening the jacket, whatever. But it never helped. I didn't feel like me."@@ Lily hums softly. @@.player;"Maybe it's dumb,"@@ you add quickly. @@.player;"It's just a suit."@@ @@.lily;"No it's not,"@@ she says, just as quick. @@.lily;"It's not dumb."@@ You glance over again. She's on her side now, looking at you seriously. Even her usual fire is tempered. @@.lily;"I think it matters,"@@ she states. @@.lily;"If something makes you feel weird, even if you don't know why, that matters."@@ You nod a little, grateful even if you don't have the words to say so. She reaches over and flicks your forehead gently, just enough to make you blink. @@.lily;"I've always got your back, bro,"@@ she says quietly. She then immediately swings her legs off the side of the bed and stands up. @@.lily;"I gotta go do some skincare now. I ''can not'' let you be the cutest Yoon."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"You're not even close."@@ She grins and walks to the door. @@.lily;"Night, weirdo."@@ Then she's gone. And for a while, all you can do is lie there in the quiet, staring up at the ceiling fan, wondering what "feeling like you" is supposed to look like. <<else>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"It's pretty solid,"@@ you say with a small nod, thinking back to the black suit hanging in your closet. It's nothing fancy, but it had made you feel polished the first time you wore it. You still remember your mom fussing over the sleeves while your dad gave an approving nod. Lily stares at you, unimpressed. @@.lily;"Solid?"@@ she repeats, scrunching her nose. @@.lily;"I thought you looked a little tacky in it, honestly."@@ You scoff. @@.player;"C'mon now."@@ @@.lily;"I'm serious,"@@ she says, grinning now. @@.lily;"You looked like a kid whose mom dressed them up for a spelling bee."@@ You roll your eyes, but there's a smile tugging at your lips. @@.player;"You mean dashing and well-composed."@@ @@.lily;"I mean what I said,"@@ she fires back. @@.lily;"Tack and boxy."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"You're ruthless."@@ Lily shrugs. @@.lily;"I have standards."@@ @@.player;"You're literally in my room uninvited."@@ @@.lily;"And yet you scooted,"@@ she says with smirk. @@.player;"That's because I feared for my life."@@ @@.lily;"As you should."@@ The banter fizzles into a comfortable quiet. The two of you just enjoy each other's presence for a few minutes before Lily swings her legs off the side of the bed and stands up without warning. @@.lily;"Anyway, don't embarrass me tomorrow,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"I don't want my big brother to be the one who spilled soda all over himself."@@ @@.player;"No promises,"@@ you mutter, grinning. She opens the door halfway, then pauses and looks back. @@.lily;"Sleep well, dashing one."@@ You make a face. @@.player;"Get out."@@ She leaves with a laugh, the door clicking shut behind you. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d11cheerleadingLily is true>>\ <<if $d19cheerleadingLilyattend is true>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Lily watches you for a beat, then grins when you give a little shrug and say, @@.player;"Yeah. Sure. You can come."@@ Her eyes light up. @@.lily;"Hell yeah,"@@ she says, already sitting up like she's just won something. @@.lily;"See you in three weeks then, superstar."@@ You can't help the laugh that bubbles up. @@.player;"You better not make fun of me."@@ Lily's expression turns mock-serious. @@.lily;"I would never."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.lily;"...Okay, maybe a little,"@@ she admits, already walking toward the door. @@.lily;"Like, just a respectful amount. Like a sibling's legal limit."@@ @@.player;"No heckling allowed from the stands,"@@ you say, throwing a pillow in her direction. She catches it with one hand, tosses it back lazily, and gives you a sly smirk. @@.lily;"What if I bring one of those giant heads with your face on it? Like really big. Super cursed."@@ @@.player;"Please don't."@@ @@.lily;"I'm already placing the order."@@ You groan and roll over to bury your face in your blanket, grumbling something about regretting everything. She just laughs, steps out into the hall, and grabs the door handle behind her. @@.lily;"Night, cheer queen,"@@ she calls, just as the door starts to close. @@.player;"Night, chaos goblin."@@ The door clicks shut, leaving the room comfortably quiet again. The muffled sounds of the house settle around you, familiar and warm. You're still smiling as you sink deeper into the mattress, the softness of the day finally catching up to you. <<else>>\ Lily's question hangs in the air for a beat too long, and when you answer, you try to keep your voice light. @@.player;"I... don't think that's a good idea."@@ You glance at her from the corner of your eye, catching the flicker of disappointment in her expression. She looks up at the ceiling like she's trying to pretend it doesn't bother her. @@.lily;"Oh,"@@ she says, and for once, her voice doesn't carry that usual fire. She sits up. @@.lily;"Well, whatever,"@@ she adds with a toss of her head. @@.lily;"I'll just find a video on Insta or whatever. I'm sure someone posted the halftime show."@@ @@.player;"You better not,"@@ you warn, groaning. She smirks, but the usual spark behind it feels dimmer than usual. @@.lily;"We'll see."@@ She stands, brushing the blue strand of hair away dramatically. She opens the door, steps out, and closes it behind her. The room goes quiet again, leaving you staring up at nothing. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d19cheerleadingLily is true>>\ <<set $cheerlilyknow to true>>\ <<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You inhale, slow and quiet, before finally saying it. @@.player;"I joined the cheer team."@@ Lily doesn't respond at first, her mouth hanging open. Then: @@.lily;"No. Shot. Cheerleading?"@@ You nod, lips pressed together. Lily stares at you. @@.lily;"Are you serious right now?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah."@@ She pushes herself up so she's sitting cross-legged, now properly staring at you. @@.lily;"You? You couldn't even touch your toes in middle school! You, of all people, joined the cheer squad?"@@ @@.player;"I mean, I'm way more flexible now,"@@ you mutter. @@.lily;"Okay, but why?"@@ Lily asks, visibly processing this information. You shrug. @@.player;"It's complicated."@@ @@.lily;"That's not an answer,"@@ she fires back immediately. @@.player;"I guess you'll never know."@@ Her brow furrows again, but this time there's concern behind it. She leans back a little, picking at the end of her sleeve. @@.lily;"I knew something was going on, but I didn't think the secret was //cheerleading//. I thought you got yourself a girlfriend or were ditching school to get a tattoo."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Would that be better?"@@ @@.lily;"Probably not,"@@ Lily says, giggling. @@.lily;"Mom would freak if you got a tattoo."@@ The two of you sit there, the silence stretching a little. Her lips are pursed in a straight line as she fiddles with a loose thread on your blanket. Then she sighs. @@.lily;"Okay. I've gotta think about this."@@ You tense. @@.lily;"Not in a bad way, don't worry,"@@ she adds quickly. @@.lily;"I just can't believe you're like, flipping and smiling with glitter and yelling 'go team.' A girl needs some time to recalibrate."@@ @@.player;"Take your time,"@@ you say, laughing at her comment. @@.lily;"Are you good?"@@ she asks. @@.player;"Well, Jessica says I've got a lot of talent,"@@ you murmur. <<if $transgender > 14>>\ @@.lily;"There's my older sibling,"@@ Lily says, lightly punching your arm. Then, she slips off the bed, stealing one of your snacks from your nightstand. She starts heading for the door, then pauses, glancing back at you with something softer in her eyes. @@.lily;"You're still a dork, though. Cheerleading or not."@@ <<else>>\ @@.lily;"There's my older brother,"@@ Lily says, lightly punching your arm. Then, she slips off the bed, stealing one of your snacks from your nightstand. She starts heading for the door, then pauses, glancing back at you with something softer in her eyes. @@.lily;"You're still a dork, though. Cheerleading or not."@@ <</if>>\ And with that, she walks out, leaving you alone in the dim quiet of your room, the mattress still warm where she'd been lying. <<else>>\ You stare at the ceiling for a second too long. Lily's still watching you, eyes narrowed. Eventually, though, you let out a quiet breath and shake your head. @@.player;"There's nothing to tell,"@@ you say softly. Lily doesn't move. She just studies your face in the dim room. You can practically feel her gaze boring into you, like she's running a mental checklist of all the things that don't add up. @@.lily;"Right,"@@ she says, flat and unimpressed. You glance over. She's already gotten up, her hair swinging beside her as she turns toward the door. @@.lily;"You can keep your secrets, but I know something's going on,"@@ Lily states. @@.lily;"You were gone for, like, ever tonight. People don't just vanish for three hours after a game ends unless they're doing something."@@ You don't respond. You can't, really. Not without unraveling the whole thing. She grabs the doorknob and glances over her shoulder, eyes sharp. @@.lily;"I'll figure it out eventually,"@@ she says. Then she walks out, closing the door behind her. You're left lying there, staring up at the ceiling again, her words still hanging in the air like a dare. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Time to sleep" "Day 19 - 13">><</button>>

<<if $d19spectatorprank isnot undefined>>\ The room is quiet and still now. You just lie on your back thinking about tomorrow. The Homecoming party. It's strange how fast it crept up. Just a few weeks ago, you were still on summer break. Now it's time for one of the biggest events of your senior year. A part of you feels excited, but another part is nervous. You know that whatever happens tomorrow, it's going to be big. You close your eyes and drift off with the buzz of the game still echoing faintly in your ears. Tomorrow awaits. <<else>>\ You lie in your bed without moving an inch, heartbeat still catching up to the quiet after the buzz of the night. The game replays in your mind in snapshots. The bright lights, roaring crowds, the steady rhythm of chants, the exhilarating leap into the final formation. You remember the way the grass felt under your shoes, how your breath synced with the beat of the music, how the energy from the stands wrapped around you like electricity. The scoreboard glowing with victory. The thud of your teammates' high fives. Then the bowling alley: neon lights and laughter, Roman's thick accent echoing through the hall, all the greasy food. You smile to yourself. Tomorrow, there'll be a party. And with that will come more noise, more chaos, and more memories. But for now, there's just the silence of your room, the hum of the world slowing down, and the weight of the day finally settling into your bones. You let your eyes drift shut and sleep finds you easily. <</if>>\ <<button "Tomorrow..." "Day 20 - 1">><</button>> <<if $d19spectatorprank is undefined>>\ <<button "Try out the spectator variant" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 1">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<if $d19twinning is 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "BestieMatchingLuke">>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You pull your blanket over your head for a second and just stare at your phone. The event is ridiculous, but you can't deny it's kind of funny. And maybe a little fun. And you already know who you're gonna text. You open your messages and shoot Luke a quick one. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hey</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">wanna twin with me today?</div> </div>\ </div>\ The response is almost immediate. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">YES</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i was wondering who to match with</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">lets GOOOOOOOO twin power!</div> </div>\ </div>\ You chuckle and type back, more amused than you want to admit. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ok but like</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">with what</div> </div>\ </div>\ There's a short pause. Then: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">uh</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">wait</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i thought youd have a idea tbh</div> </div>\ </div>\ You sigh. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ur the one who was all excited</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i just woke up</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">how do u not even know what to twin with?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">sorry</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i just got excited</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">im new to all this</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">just bring something matching</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">what about the same shirt</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">i would but the only shirt i own two of is kinda nasty</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">...</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">how nasty?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">idk it has a hole in the armpit</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">and a mysterious stain</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">u say "mysterious" like u didnt spill nacho cheese on it</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">bro i was hungry</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">u and samantha so judgy</div> </div>\ </div>\ You think about your own clothes and wince. Half the stuff is brand new. Nothing really screams "Luke" and you're not sure he owns anything that would match yours anyway. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">we gonna overthink this and be late</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">do u have any idea</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">can we just like</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">bring the same drink or something?</div> </div>\ </div>\ You pause. Huh. That's actually not the worst idea. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">go on...</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">GLADIRAID</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">its the only thing that gets me through practice</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">the blue one tho</div> </div>\ </div>\ You stare at the screen for a second. You can practically hear the proud grin through the text. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">u want us to match sports drinks?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">YES BRO</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">we both walk in holding a blue gladiraid</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">we will be so iconic</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">trust</div> </div>\ </div>\ It's dumb. Like, //really// dumb. But it's also kind of perfect. You start getting out of bed, already picturing the two of you showing up with bottles in hand. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">fine</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ill trust u</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">copy that</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">ill bring it dont worry</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">my fridge is full of it</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Luke</div> <div class="content">theyre expiring soon</div> </div>\ </div>\ You laugh under your breath and finally drag yourself out of bed. You still don't know how this day's gonna go, but at least you'll start if off with something reliably ridiculous. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - 3">><</button>> <<elseif $d19twinning is 1>>\ <<grantAchievement "BestieMatchingSamantha">>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Samantha. If there's anyone who would have something decent—or at least interesting—to match with, it's her. Probably. Even if she roasts you. You fire off a text. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">yo</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">wanna twin today?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">for spirit week</div> </div>\ </div>\ It doesn't take long for her to respond. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">ohhh of course you choose me</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">i know that u know i have the best ideas</div> </div>\ </div>\ You roll your eyes. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">shut up</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">just come up with smth</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">???</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">u msgd me and u dont even have an idea??</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">embarrassing honestly</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">lemme think</div> </div>\ </div>\ Her typing bubble pops up. Then vanishes. Then comes back. Then vanishes again. You wait, already regretting this. A long pause. And finally: <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">hot chips</div> </div>\ </div>\ You blink. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">what?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">i love hot chip</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">ill bring u a bag</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">we can twin</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">and eat it after school</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">ceremonial bonding snack</div> </div>\ </div>\ You stare at the screen, debating whether to argue or just let it happen. It's Samantha. You should've expected this? <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ok ig</div> </div>\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Samantha</div> <div class="content">u should be honored tbh</div> </div>\ </div>\ You close the chat and toss the phone on your bed. Hot chips. Sure. Why the hell not. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - 3">><</button>> <<elseif $d19twinning is 2>>\ <<if $jessicaRelo > 29>>\ <<grantAchievement "BestieMatchingJessica">>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hover over Jessica's name for a second, thumb lingering above the screen. You and Jessica have gotten closer lately. You've had moments. Conversations that feel more than surface-level stuff. She's thoughtful in ways you wouldn't have expected a few weeks ago. So you text her. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hey</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">do u wanna twin today?</div> </div>\ </div>\ The reply comes faster than you expected. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">omg</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">i was literally thinking of u</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">i just didnt know if youd want to do it</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">im glad u msgd first :)</div> </div>\ </div>\ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ You feel a weird little flutter in your chest. Relief maybe. Or something a bit more than that. <<else>>\ You feel a flutter of relief in your chest. <</if>>\ <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">haha yeah</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">figured it could be fun</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">any idea what we should do?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">hmm</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">good question</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">lemme think...</div> </div>\ </div>\ You sit up, kicking your blankets off, still feeling only half-awake. After a few seconds, a response comes in. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">ok this might sound dumb but</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">what if we just like</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">stick something on our faces?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">what?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">like a postit?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">nooo not at all</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">like a sticker</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">cute ones</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">i have a bunch</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">thats it? just a sticker on the face?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">yes</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">its perfect</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">ill bring one for u so we match</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ur rly committing to this huh?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">ofc i am</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">cant have my twin running around with the wrong aesthetic</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">trust me, ive got the good ones</div> </div>\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ok then</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">surprise me</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">deal</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">see u soon</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">ur gonna look amazing</div> </div>\ </div>\ You put your phone down, smiling. If Jessica says she's got the "good ones," then whatever ends up on your face is probably going to be pretty damn stylish. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - 3">><</button>> <<else>>\ You stare at your phone for a good minute before opening Jessica's contact. It feels kind of dumb, since you're not exactly close. You've talked, sure. And things have been //less weird// between you lately. But still, she's Jessica. The Jessica. Most popular girl in school. Queen of everything. There's a part of you that already knows how this is going to go, but your thumb moves anyway. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hey</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">random but uh</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">do u wanna twin today?</div> </div>\ </div>\ It takes a while for her reply to come through. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">oh...</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">i actually already have someone else lined up...</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jessica</div> <div class="content">sorry :(</div> </div>\ </div>\ You let the phone sit in your hand for a second. It's not mean. She even added the sad face. But yeah. You get it. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">oh yeah haha</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">mb for asking</div> </div>\ </div>\ No response right away. Maybe no response ever. You don't really expect one. You lock your phone and let it drop onto your bed beside you. Guess that answers that. <<button "Go back" "Day 19 - 1">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<elseif $d19twinning is 3>>\ <<grantAchievement "BestieMatchingVincent">>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You scroll through your contacts until your thumb hovers over Vincent's name. He's not the most obvious choice for Bestie Twinning Day, but you figure he can come up with something unique and not embarrassing. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hey</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">wanna twin with me today?</div> </div>\ </div>\ It doesn't take long for the typing bubble to appear. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Sure, that could be fun. Honestly, I didn't think anyone would ask me. So... this is a really nice surprise. I actually get to participate for once.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You raise an eyebrow. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">no one asked you?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">No. Which, you know, isn't exactly shocking. But the idea of matching with someone is kind of nice.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Hmm...</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">I already have an idea, if you don't mind me picking.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">yeah?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Bookmarks.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You blink at the screen. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">bookmarks?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Yeah. I've been making them for fun. It started a few years ago because I didn't want to fold the corners of my books anymore.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Now it's just kind of my thing. I mess around with cardstock, laminate them, draw or paint little designs. I've got this one with constellations that catches the light in a really cool way, and another with a koi fish I painted myself. I think they'd be perfect for today.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You grin at your phone. It's //very// Vincent. You can tell he's genuinely into the idea. It's not just because has something ready either. He's clearly happy to be included. It's... nice. You can almost picture his face while saying all that. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ok</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i like that idea</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">guess we're doing bookmarks then</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Perfect!</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">I'll bring one for you. I've got a set I made last week. One has constellations and the other has the koi fish. You can pick which one you want when you see them.</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Vincent</div> <div class="content">Thanks, $name.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You toss your phone onto the bed beside you. Only Vincent would think matching bookmarks was the way to go for a school spirit event, but you can't help but like the idea. It's small, easy, and very... Vincent. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - 3">><</button>> <<elseif $d19twinning is 4>>\ <<grantAchievement "BestieMatchingAurora">>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You scroll through your contacts slowly, half awake, until your thumb hovers over Aurora's name. She's not the first person most people would think to ask for Bestie Twinning day, but that's kind of the appeal. Matching with her would be unusual and memorable. She has a certain air around her where she can make just about anything strange and interesting. Before you second-guess it, you open the chat and type. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hi hi</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">wanna twin today?</div> </div>\ </div>\ The typing bubble doesn't appear right away. You imagine her seeing the message, setting her phone down, maybe finish whatever mysterious thing she was in the middle of. When her reply finally comes in, it's exactly what you'd expect from her. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">match with me? hmm</div> </div>\ </div>\ You're not sure if it's a challenge, a joke, or just her stalling. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i dont know</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i just thought of you</div> </div>\ </div>\ You picture her smirking at her phone, taking her sweet time. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">thought of me huh</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">curious</div> </div>\ </div>\ There's something about the way she phrases things that just feels... different. You shift on your bed, one knee drawn up. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">so is that a yes?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">maybe</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">it depends</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">on what?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">what we match with</div> </div>\ </div>\ You glance around your room like the answer might be lying somewhere in the mess, then sigh. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i was hoping you'd have an idea</div> </div>\ </div>\ The reply takes even longer this time, but when it arrives, it's as casual and inevitable as if she'd known all along. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">ill bring you a seashell soon</div> </div>\ </div>\ You stare at the screen. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">...a seashell?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">yes</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">youll see</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">do i even want to know where u got it</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">found it at low tide</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">might be older than both of us</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">still holds a bit of the sea if you listen close</div> </div>\ </div>\ You let out a small laugh, rubbing at your eyes. Only Aurora could turn a random school spirit day into something that sounds like a mythological artifact. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">alright</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">bring the seashell</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Aurora</div> <div class="content">itll be done</div> </div>\ </div>\ No emojis, smiley face, or exclamation. Just those three words, like it's final. You lock your phone and set it down, already wondering what exactly she's going to hand you later. With Aurora, you can never be sure. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - 3">><</button>> <<elseif $d19twinning is 5>>\ <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ <<grantAchievement "BestieMatchingJordan">>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hi jordan</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">wanna twin for today?</div> </div>\ </div>\ The reply comes rather quickly. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">uh</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">yeah sure</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">why not</div> </div>\ </div>\ You smile a little. It's not the most enthusiastic response in the world, but you don't really expect that from Jordan. This is more than enough. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">cool</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">got any ideas?</div> </div>\ </div>\ There's a pause, the typing bubble flickering on and off. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i mean</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">we could just do something simple</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">but i think i might have an idea</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">go on</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">ok so</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">u know how everyone thinks im like</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">100% sports all the time?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">yeah</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">sometimes i sneak out to see plays</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">the good ones</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">in the city</div> </div>\ </div>\ You raise your eyebrows at the screen. You know he likes theater, but that's not exactly a thing he's advertised before. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">wait</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">seriously?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">yeah</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">been doing it for a while</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i keep the ticket stubs too</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">kind of a dumb habit but</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i dunno</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">they mean something to me</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">thats actually rly cool</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">thanks</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">anyway what i was thinking</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i could bring two of them</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">you keep one, i keep one</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">boom. twinning.</div> </div>\ </div>\ You picture the two of you walking into school, both with a worn little ticket stub in your pocket. It's not flashy, but it //is// personal. Thoughtful, even. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">i like it</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">which one r we doing?</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">dont worry about it</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">ill pick</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">got a few good ones tucked away</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">i'll bring them to you soon</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message other">\ <div class="name">Jordan</div> <div class="content">so be ready</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">ofc</div> </div>\ </div>\ You lock your phone, feeling a faint grin tug at the corner of your mouth. It's perfectly him, and makes you wonder what else he's keeping under wraps. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - 3">><</button>> <<else>>\ You hesitate for a moment before opening Jordan's chat. You're not close, but for some reason, you brain still decides to message. Worst case, he says no. <div class="chat-container">\ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">hi jordan</div> </div>\ \ <div class="message player">\ <div class="name">$name</div> <div class="content">wanna twin for today?</div> </div>\ </div>\ You hit send and watch the little "delivered" check mark pop up. Then... nothing. No typing bubble, no read receipt. You give it a minute, scrolling aimlessly through other apps, constantly glancing at the top of the screen in hopes of a notification. Another minute passes. Still nothing. You set the phone down beside you, wait a little longer, then pick it back up again—just in order to confirm you didn't somehow miss his reply. But the chat is still blank under your message, like you never even sent it. After a few minutes, you sigh and lock the screen. Yeah. That's enough waiting. <<button "Go back" "Day 19 - 1">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<elseif $d19twinning is 6>>\ <<grantAchievement "BestieMatchingNone">>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity - 10, 0, 100)>>\ Your thumb hovers over your contacts like you might type something out to someone. But the longer you sit there, the less appealing it feels. It's not that Bestie Twinning Day is bad, but the idea of going out of your way to match with someone just... doesn't click today. You can already imagine the chaos at school: pairs of friends showing up in matching outfits, holding matching props, laughing about it all. You let out a quiet breath and set your phone back down. There's really no need to force it. You'll just go as you are, enjoying the show from the sidelines. If anyone asks, you can make a joke about how you're just twinning with yourself this year. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - 3">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> You stand in the middle of your room, the faint morning light flickering through the blinds and spilling over the pile of shopping bags you still haven't unpacked. Half of them are on the floor and the others stacked haphazardly against your dresser. Tissue paper sticks out from the tops like it's trying to show off what's inside. For a moment, you just look at them. It's stupid, but the sight makes you feel a little excited. You'd spent hours yesterday walking from store to store, trying things on, hearing the quiet //yes// in your head when something felt right. You'd brought them home, meaning to try them on again later, maybe see what kind of outfits you could throw together. You pull one bag closer, fingertips brushing over the smooth, folded fabric inside. Something in you stirs at the thought of walking into school wearing one of these. How would the fabric feel? How would it move? And then your mind goes somewhere else entirely. Principal Zhang. The memory is sharp and uncomfortable. Him in the office—sitting with that fake smile. You remember exactly what he said. @@.zhang;"Because if you do—even once—I'll be waiting. And I promise you, $name. The next meeting won't be this polite."@@ You can already picture stepping into the building, barely making it to your locker before a voice calls you over the school PA system. If the first meeting you had with him was him being polite, you don't want to have another meeting. The fabric slips from your hand back into the bag. @@.player;"Yeah... probably not a good idea,"@@ you murmur to yourself, stepping back from the pile. The air feels heavier somehow, like the room's gone from anticipation to quiet resignation in the space of a breath. You're not sure if this makes you want to fight harder or breathe easier. <<button "You feel disappointed" "Day 19 - 4">>\<<set $d19clotheschoice to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_clothes_reflection" "disappointed" "story">><</button>> <<button "You feel relieved" "Day 19 - 4">>\<<set $d19clotheschoice to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_clothes_reflection" "relieved" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $bra to $d18bra>>\ <<if $d19clotheschoice is true>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You stand there for a moment longer, eyes lingering on the shopping bags like they might answer for you. You actually //wanted// to wear something from them today. The thought had been sitting in the back of your mind since you got home yesterday. You've been imagining walking into school in something new, something that felt softer and lighter in all the right ways. Letting people see you in it. Maybe hearing a few compliments in the hallway, even if they were casual ones. That would make all of yesterday's soreness feel worth it. Instead, you're here, telling yourself not to. Not because you don't want to, but because you know exactly what would happen if you did. You can picture Principal Zhang's look from the other day, that menacing smile that didn't reach his eyes. The promise that he'd be "watching." The threat of a formal disciplinary review. Your fingers brush the edge of one of the tops hanging over your chair. It feels nice, even better than you remember from the store. You let your hand rest there for a moment, imagining slipping it on, walking out the door without caring. You could do it. You //want// to do it. But wanting and doing are two completely different things. With a small sigh, you fold it neatly and set it back on the chair, giving the fabric one last glance before you turn a way. The bags will wait. They're not going anywhere. You cross the room and pull open your closet doors, eyes scanning for something "normal." Something that won't get a second look, even if it's the last thing you feel like wearing. <<else>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Yeah... honestly, it's better this way. You glance back at the bags, at the soft folds of fabric peeking out like they're trying to catch your attention, and feel a strange sort of relief wash over you. They can stay right there. Maybe for the weekend. Or for some other time when you don't have to deal with the whole school staring and Principal Zhang breathing down your neck. The truth is, you don't want to wear that stuff to school. Not really. It's not you. Not in the middle of crowded hallways, not with people looking at you strangely. That's the last thing you need. You breathe out, long and slow, and feel your shoulder unclench. Yeah. This is the right call. Turning toward your closet, you pull the door open, scanning for something familiar. Something that's just safe. <</if>>\ <div class="note">\ <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ You can wear whatever you want, but the characters won't recognize it and you'll canonically be wearing your usual clothes. I know maybe people were excited to show up at school in a dress, but that would severely mess up the game's pacing and kill the conflict that was introduced in Day 16. Please understand! </div>\ <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 19 - 5">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $outfit to 69>><<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Just wear something" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> The morning air has a crisp bite to it as you step outside. The street's quiet except for the faint rustle of dead leaves scraping across the pavement, their edges catching little bursts of wind. And, as always, Luke is exactly where you expect him to be: planted on the sidewalk at the edge of your driveway, grinning widely. <<if $d19twinning is 0>>\ He's holding a Gladiraid bottle in one hand. It's blue. Your "matching" prop for Bestie Twinning Day. It's also... suspiciously empty-looking. @@.luke;"Morning, $name!"@@ he calls out, lifting the bottle in a triumphant little toast. @@.luke;"Operation Twinning Hydration is live!"@@ You take one look at the way it's crinkled in his grip and realize what's happened. @@.player;"...You already drank it,"@@ you say. Luke blinks down at the bottle like it's brand-new information. @@.luke;"Oh. Uh. Yeah."@@ You pinch the bridge of your nose. @@.luke;"Whatever. I should've known you'd do this. Just give me mine."@@ For a moment, he just stares at you with a blank smile. Then the smile falters. @@.luke;"Okay, so..."@@ he says slowly, dragging the words out like he's delivering bad news on live television. He reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out a second Gladiraid bottle. For a split second, you actually think maybe he redeemed himself. Then he hands it to you. It's light. Too light. You give it a little shake. There's no slosh. You can only hear the sad, hollow crackle of plastic. You look at him. @@.player;"Luke."@@ He winces, flinching. @@.luke;"Sorry..."@@ @@.luke;"I didn't mean to!"@@ His words come rushing out, all earnest panic. @@.luke;"I was just, y'know, walking over here. I was just so thirsty. And then I was holding both bottles, and I thought, 'Hey, matching! I should drink with $name so it's like we're doing it together,' and then I finished mine and..."@@ He gestures vaguely, like the rest of the story tells itself. @@.player;"Luke, the //only// point of this was to match,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"We're still matching!"@@ he says, brightening again. @@.luke;"Look, we both have Gladiraid bottles! Empty ones! That's even more specific. How many people are going to show up with //that//?"@@ You just keep looking at him until he starts to look a little nervous. @@.luke;"Fine, fine,"@@ he says quickly, jogging a couple steps to fall into place beside you as you start walking toward school. @@.luke;"I'll buy you another one from the vending machine."@@ @@.player;"You're buying me two,"@@ you say flatly. He holds up his hands like that's perfectly reasonable. @@.luke;"Deal. And this time I'll only drink half. Maybe."@@ You shake your head, but you can't quite stop the corner of your mouth from twitching upward. With anyone else, this would be annoying. With Luke... well, it's just another morning. <<elseif $d19twinning is 1>>\ @@.luke;"Morning,"@@ he says, falling into step beside you the moment you reach him. @@.luke;"You ready for Twinning Day?"@@ You give him a sideways look. @@.player;"You realize I'm not twinning with you, right?"@@ He gasps. @@.luke;"What? Betrayal."@@ @@.player;"I'm matching with Samantha,"@@ you say, and his expression instantly brightens again. It seems any excuse to see Samantha first thing in the morning is fine by him. You've made it down several blocks when you hear footsteps pounding the pavement from up ahead. You glance over just as Samantha rounds the corner, beanie bouncing, huffing like she's just run a marathon. Luke lights up. @@.luke;"Samantha! You made it!"@@ She slows to a brisk walk, still catching her breath. @@.samantha;"Yeah. I ran the whole way,"@@ she manages between breaths. She tugs at her backpack strap, adjusting it higher on her shoulder, and then, with a little flourish, pulls out two crinkling bags of hot chips. @@.samantha;"Behold,"@@ she says, holding them up like they're some kind of prize. @@.samantha;"The ceremonial twin snack."@@ Luke's eyes go wide. @@.luke;"Are we opening them now? Can we open them now? Please tell me we're opening them now."@@ @@.samantha;"Nope,"@@ Samantha says, tucking the bags under her arm. @@.samantha;"After school."@@ @@.luke;"Aw, come on,"@@ Luke groans. @@.luke;"Just one chip. Just a single one."@@ @@.samantha;"No."@@ @@.luke;"Half a chip?"@@ @@.samantha;"No."@@ @@.luke;"What if I just smell the bag—"@@ @@.samantha;"Absolutely not."@@ Luke trails her on the opposite side from you, throwing out ridiculous suggestions. He comes up with splitting the bag in thirds "for fairness," promises to "mentally" not eat them until after school, and even offers to carry the bags for her as if that would somehow help his case. Each time, Samantha shuts him down without hesitation, her replies just dry enough to make you laugh under your breath. She's not even looking at him half the time, just staring straight ahead with the bags tucked securely under her arm like precious cargo. By the time the school comes into view, Luke has cycled back around to his first request, starting again at "just one chip," and Samantha hasn't budged an inch. The bags are still sealed. The twin snack is safe. And you're pretty sure Luke is going to be talking about it all day. <<elseif $d19twinning is 2>>\ @@.luke;"Morning,"@@ he says, falling into step with you. @@.luke;"Ready for the big day? You twinning with someone? Don't tell me it's—"@@ Before he can finish, the purr of an engine rolls up the street, smooth and expensive-sounding. You both turn your heads just in time to see a white car pull up beside the curb in front of your house. The driver's side window rolls down, and Jessica leans her elbow casually against the frame. Luke reacts like he's just spotted a celebrity in the wild. @@.luke;"Woah!!! Hey, Jessica!"@@ She smirks faintly at his enthusiasm. @@.jessica;"Morning, Luke."@@ The familiarity in her tone isn't surprising as they've been in the same orbit for years. Cheer captain and star football player; pep rallies and halftime shows make that inevitable. Luke, of course, takes it and runs with it, launching straight into conversation. @@.luke;"Man, I've only seen this one a couple of times. Is this new? This is nice. You could probably fit, like, half the team in here. Does it have that big tablet in the middle? Wait... does it do that thing where it connects to your phone—"@@ Jessica laughs softly. @@.jessica;"It does both of those things, yes."@@ Luke's already leaning a little closer to the window, eyes scanning the interior like he's cataloging every luxury feature. @@.luke;"Man, if I had a car like this, I'd just... live in it. Sleep in the back seat, eat in the front seat, maybe put a grill in the trunk. Portable lifestyle."@@ @@.jessica;"Sounds... practical,"@@ Jessica says. They're still chatting when something clicks in his head. He straightens, blinking like he's only just noticed the odd part of the situation. @@.luke;"Wait, why are you even here?"@@ Jessica tilts her head toward you, her smile widening just a touch. @@.jessica;"I'm twinning with $name."@@ Luke's gaze flicks to you. @@.luke;"$name?"@@ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ <<set $faceAccessory to 0>>\ Jessica shuts off the engine and steps out, swinging the car door closed with her hip. In her hand is a small sticker sheet with a variety of designs. @@.jessica;"Hold still,"@@ she says softly, peeling off a maroon heart and pressing it gently to your left cheek. Her fingers linger for a beat longer than necessary, and when you glance at her, she's smiling in that way she does when she's trying not to laugh. Then she takes a lavender heart for herself, sticking it just under her eye. @@.jessica;"Perfect,"@@ she giggles. @@.jessica;"Now we match... kind of."@@ Luke, entirely oblivious to the undercurrent, just leans forward eagerly. @@.luke;"Yo, I want a sticker too!"@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow, but ends up peeling a random sticker off the sheet anyway. It's one that resembles a chicken nugget. She slaps it square onto the middle of his forehead. Luke beams like it's the best thing that's ever happened to him. <<else>>\ <<set $faceAccessory to 1>>\ Jessica shuts off the engine and steps out of the car. In her hand is a small sheet of gold start stickers, the kind that look like they belong on a teacher's desk. @@.jessica;"Here,"@@ she says, peeling one off and pressing it lightly to your left cheek. The adhesive is cool at first, the metallic surface catching the morning light. She takes another and sticks it to her own cheek. @@.jessica;"There,"@@ she says with an easy smile. @@.jessica;"Good friends."@@ Luke's eyes lights up the second he sees the stickers. @@.luke;"Wait, I want one!"@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow, but ends up peeling another gold star off the sheet anyway. She places it square in the middle of his forehead. Luke beams like it's the best thing that's ever happened to him. <</if>>\ Luke's still grinning at the sticker on his forehead when his attention snaps back to the car. His eyes go a little wide, like the thought just hit him. @@.luke;"Yo... could we ride in your car?"@@ he asks, voice full of that hopeful energy that's hard to say no to. Jessica glances between the two of you, then smiles. @@.jessica;"Sure. Hop in."@@ Luke lights up instantly. @@.luke;"No way!"@@ He jogs around to the passenger side, yanking open the back door. You follow him in, sliding onto the leather seat that still smells faintly new. Luke sinks into the opposite side with a satisfied sigh, running his hand over the seat like he's checking the quality. @@.luke;"Man... this is nice. This is //really// nice. It's like a couch that moves."@@ Jessica laughs as she steps into the car and starts the engine. @@.jessica;"I'm glad to see you approve."@@ @@.luke;"I'm telling you, if I had a ride like this, I'd ''never'' walk anywhere again,"@@ Luke says. He's practically bouncing as the car eases away from the curb, his gaze darting from the tinted windows to the dashboard up first. @@.luke;"School, practice, grocery store, whatever. It'd all be a road trip."@@ You just shake your head, settling back against the seat as the quiet purr of the engine carries you toward school. <<elseif $d19twinning is 3>>\ @@.luke;"Morning,"@@ he says, falling into step beside you. @@.luke;"So—"@@ He doesn't get to finish, because a voice calls out from further up the street. @@.vincent;"$name!"@@ You both turn to see Vincent jogging toward you, one hand gripping the strap of his backpack, the other clutching a neat little bundle of something. When he reaches you, a bit winded, he straightens and offers the bundle to you with a small smile. @@.vincent;"I, uh, brought the bookmarks,"@@ he says, holding them out. They're cut from thick cardstock, laminated, and decorated—two of them, one with painted constellations, the other with a koi fish gliding across a rippling blue background. @@.vincent;"One for you, one for me. I thought we could each carry one in our pockets, for... authenticity."@@ Luke blinks at him. @@.luke;"...Who are you?"@@ Vincent shifts his weight, clearing his throat. @@.vincent;"Vincent. We share East Asian History and, if I'm not mistaken, I had you in Gym last year. We also have lunch together. Though, admittedly, my table is usually in the corner. I'm a friend of $name's... or at least, I'd like to think so. Not unlike how the United States and the Soviet Union were technically allies in WW2, even if they didn't always share a table either."@@ Luke stares at him for a moment longer. @@.luke;"Bro, I didn't understand anything you just said."@@ Vincent glances at you, clearly hoping for a little backup. You take the koi fish from him and hold it up. @@.player;"I'm matching with Vincent for Bestie Twinning Day."@@ Luke looks between the two of you, squinting like he's trying to process the logic. @@.luke;"...With... bookmarks?"@@ @@.vincent;"Yes,"@@ Vincent says, nodding earnestly. @@.vincent;"They're functional, portable, and aesthetically pleasing. Also, no one else will have anything remotely similar, which gives us the edge in originality. It's rather like the Byzantine Empire's use of Greek fire. Practical and unique, in part because the recipe for Greek fire was a state secret. Kind of how I keep my exact bookmark-making methods secret too."@@ @@.luke;"I'm so confused, dude,"@@ Luke says. Vincent tilts his head. @@.vincent;"Was it the Byzantine reference? Or have you not heard of Greek fire before? I can explain it to you if you—"@@ @@.luke;"I thought it was like... that thing with the wooden horse? Y'know, they used it to like, burn down... Greece?"@@ Luke says, waving his hand vaguely. Vincent stares at him for a beat. @@.vincent;"That's mythology. Also it was said to have been used by the Greeks to enter the city of Troy. You're way off."@@ Luke just shrugs. @@.luke;"Same thing."@@ Vincent turns to you with an expression of disbelief, clearly deciding it's not worth the energy to try and untangle Luke's version of history. @@.player;"Anyway, I'll keep the koi,"@@ you say, slipping it carefully into your pocket. Vincent smiles faintly and takes the constellation one for himself. @@.vincent;"Then I'll keep the stars. It's good for navigation—figuratively and literally."@@ There's a lightness in his tone, but you can tell he means it. The three of you start toward school, the cool morning air filling the quiet. Or at least it //would// be quiet, if Luke wasn't immediately leaning over to Vincent. @@.luke;"So, like,"@@ Luke starts, already sounding way too invested, @@.luke;"what's your favorite war? Top three, if you can't pick one."@@ Vincent barely hesitates. @@.vincent;"Well, that depends entirely on how you define 'favorite.' If we're talking purely from a strategic perspective, the Punic Wars are fascinating. I'm particularly a fan of the Second one, with Hannibal's crossing of the Alps. From a political impact standpoint, though, you //really// can't beat the Napoleonic Wars; the sheer scale of redrawing Europe's borders was—"@@ Luke interrupts, brow furrowed. @@.luke;"Wait, wait. Did people actually wear those metal bucket hats? Like in the movie?"@@ Vincent blinks, recalibrates, and drives straight into the tangent. @@.vincent;"Ah, so helmets. You're probably thinking of the great helms used in the late medieval period. They were, in fact, worn in battle, but they had limited visibility and airflow, which is why you often saw knights lifting them between arguments. Eventually, they evolved into more open-faced designs like the bascinet, which—"@@ @@.luke;"Wait, but you said Napoleon,"@@ Luke cuts in again. @@.luke;"What's the deal with him anyway? Everyone says he was really short."@@ By now, Vincent's in full lecture mode, hands gesturing as he talks. @@.vincent;"That's largely a misconception. He was around 169 centimeters, which was average for his time. The myth of him being short comes from a mix-up between French and English measurement systems, and British propaganda painting him as a 'small man' in both stature and character. It's actually a perfect example of how public perception can be shaped by—"@@ @@.luke;"I'm bored,"@@ Luke says, yawning. @@.luke;"Do you watch sports, Victor?"@@ You can't help but chuckle under your breath as Vincent sighs. <<elseif $d19twinning is 4>>\ @@.luke;"Alright,"@@ he says as you both start toward school, @@.luke;"who'd you end up twinning with?"@@ You just smirk and keep walking. @@.player;"You'll see."@@ @@.luke;"Aw, come on,"@@ Luke groans. @@.luke;"Don't make it sound all dramatic."@@ Before you can answer, a faint rustling breaks the stillness behind you. It's not the casual crunch of leaves in the wind. it's heavier and more deliberate, like someone is stepping through them. Both of you slow and glance over your shoulders. Aurora is there. She's standing half in shadow behind a tree, the morning light cutting across her in strange, broken patterns. She's dressed in her usual dark outfit and in her hand she carries something pale. Luke lets out a strangled yell. He stumbles sideways, pushing you between himself and her like you're a human shield. @@.luke;"What the hell, man!"@@ he blurts, eyes wide. You rub the back of your neck, trying not to laugh. @@.player;"Relax. I asked her to match with me for Bestie Twinning Day."@@ Luke freezes, still clutching your arm like a lifeline. @@.luke;"You //what//?"@@ @@.player;"She's my match,"@@ you repeat, keeping your voice casual. He leans in toward you, clearly aiming for a whisper, but it's way too loud. @@.luke;"Why her???"@@ The sharpness of it makes you flinch, the sound hitting your ear like a small sonic boom. You instinctively pull away, rubbing your ear. @@.player;"Ow. You're not as quiet as you think you are."@@ Luke's still half-hiding behind you when his eyes dart to Aurora's hands. His grip tightens. @@.luke;"Dude... what is that?"@@ Aurora's gaze drifts down to her own hands, like she's just been reminded she's carrying something. She slowly tilts her palm upward, letting the pale, ridged curve of the object catch the sunlight. @@.aurora;"A seashell,"@@ she says in that measured way she talks, as if every word is placed exactly where he wants it. @@.aurora;"It still remembers the ocean if you listen close enough."@@ @@.luke;"...Ok..."@@ he says, still clearly suspicious. Aurora studies him for another heartbeat, her expression unreadable. @@.aurora;"You've never held one?"@@ @@.luke;"Not one that looked like //that//,"@@ Luke mutters. Her lips curl faintly at the corners. @@.aurora;"Maybe you should. It might like you."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, I'm good,"@@ Luke says quickly, leaning a fraction more behind you. Aurora watches him for a moment longer before suddenly stepping forward and saying, @@.aurora;"Boo."@@ Luke's yell is so loud it echoes down the quiet street. He jumps back a full step, nearly tripping over a rock. Aurora's laughter slips out, warm and genuine despite her otherwise composed demeanor. She tips her head back slightly as it fades, the purple tips of her hair shifting against her shoulder. @@.aurora;"I couldn't resist,"@@ she says, almost like an admission, but there's a glint of mischief in her eyes. @@.aurora;"You make it too easy."@@ @@.luke;"Not cool,"@@ Luke grumbles. Aurora ignores him entirely, turning her attention back to you. She steps close and holds the seashell out. Up close, it's smoother than you expected, with faint pink swirls inside its ridges, still warm from being in her hands. @@.aurora;"For the match,"@@ she says simply. The three of you set off toward school. Aurora walks at your side, her pace unhurried, occasionally brushing her fingertips over the sleeves of her top. She makes an idle comment about the light being @@.aurora;"the right kind"@@ this morning. You're not sure what that means, but you're used to her cryptic comments by now. Luke stays behind at first, a single step, then two. The moment Aurora glances his way, he drifts back further, pretending to dig for something in your backpack. By the time the school comes into view, he's several feet behind, trailing like a reluctant kid. Aurora notices, and for a brief moment, there's the faintest flicker of a smile. <<elseif $d19twinning is 5>>\ @@.luke;"Morning!"@@ he calls, jogging toward you. @@.luke;"You've //gotta// tell me who your twin for today is. I've been thinking about it all night, and I'm not gonna guess wrong again."@@ He stops mid-ramble when he sees the tall figure coming up the sidewalk from the opposite direction. Jordan Brooks. Star quarterback. Hands in his varsity jacket pockets and wearing that serious expression that has the school convinced he's impossible to approach. Luke's grin freezes. His eyes ping-pong between you and Jordan like he's trying to make sense of it. @@.luke;"Uh... why is //he// here?"@@ @@.player;"I'm matching with him for Bestie Twinning Day,"@@ you say simply. Luke's mouth drops open. @@.luke;"What? How did you get Jordan to agree to that?!"@@ He waves his arms for emphasis. @@.luke;"I've been on the same football team as this guy for four years and I think he's said, like... seven words to me. Total."@@ By now Jordan's close enough to hear, and there's the faintest tightening in his jaw. His eyes flick to Luke briefly before returning to you. @@.jordan;"Didn't know you'd have company,"@@ he says evenly. @@.player;"I walk with him every day,"@@ you explain. There's a pause, then Jordan exhales, like he's made up his mind about something. @@.jordan;"...Alright. Guess it's fine."@@ @@.luke;"That's it?"@@ Luke asks, blinking. @@.luke;"No 'get lost'? No scary silent treatment?"@@ Jordan huffs out a low laugh, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"You've got this whole image of me in your head, huh?"@@ @@.luke;"I mean... yeah?"@@ Luke says, grinning. @@.luke;"You're, like, the cool mysterious guy. You never say anything unless it's, like, a touchdown call or telling someone to run faster."@@ @@.jordan;"Maybe I didn't have a reason to,"@@ Jordan says, glancing at you briefly before adding, @@.jordan;"It's going to be a long walk. No point making it awkward."@@ Luke's grin widens. @@.luke;"Yo... he's talking to me. Like, he's actually talking to me."@@ Jordan smirks faintly. @@.jordan;"Don't get used to it."@@ His voice has that teasing edge, but there's no coldness in it. It's more like he's humoring Luke in a way he usually wouldn't bother to do. The three of you start walking, your footsteps in sync. Luke, still buzzing from Jordan's unexpected friendliness, keeps firing off questions. They're random, of course; about practice, about the next game, and even about whether Jordan thinks the school vending machines are broken on purpose. And instead of brushing him off, Jordan actually answers. Curtly, sure, but with the occasional dry comment that makes Luke laugh way too loud for the quiet street. Every few steps, Luke gives you this wide-eyed look like he can't believe this is happening, before turning back to Jordan with yet another question. Jordan listens, patient in his own understated way, his hands still in his pockets... and then his fingers shift like he's reaching for something. His stride slows, and there's a flicker of hesitation in his expression. Finally, he exhales, pulls his hand free, and holds out two small, timeworn ticket stubs. They're worn soft at the edges, the ink a little faded, but it's obvious they've been kept with care. @@.jordan;"I figured this would work,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"One for you, one for me. That way we're matching without making a big show of it."@@ He separates them carefully. The one he keeps says //The Glass Managerie//—Tennessee Williams in a neat serif font. The one he hands you reads //The Importance of Being Earnest//—Oscar Wilde. @@.player;"You really kept these, huh?"@@ you ask, turning yours over in your hand. @@.jordan;"Yeah."@@ His voice is quieter now. @@.jordan;"I've been to a lot of plays. I don't... really tell people that."@@ His jaw tenses again, but not in annoyance. It's the way he gets when something matters to him more than he wants to admit. @@.jordan;"Football's what everyone sees. Theater's... for me. Always has been."@@ There's a pause before he adds, @@.jordan;"The Menagerie one is about holding onto things you can't always keep. It hit me, back when I first saw it. And Earnest is about being honest about who you are, even if you've been pretending otherwise. Thought it might fit."@@ You catch the way his eyes flick to yours, just briefly, as if to see if you understand what he's really saying. Luke, who's been listening with his usual curiosity, leans in. @@.luke;"Wait, these are for plays?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says hesitantly. @@.luke;"Bro, that's so cool,"@@ Luke blurts without hesitation. Jordan looks over at him like he's not sure if Luke's joking. @@.jordan;"You... think so?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah!"@@ Luke grins. @@.luke;"Plays are like live movies, right? But way harder 'cause you can't mess up. That's sick. I've never been to one, but that sounds awesome."@@ Jordan's posture loosens further. @@.jordan;"Guess I always figured people would just see it as weird. Doesn't exactly fit the quarterback image."@@ @@.luke;"Man, who cares?"@@ Luke asks, shrugging. @@.luke;"Sounds way more interesting than what the other guys argue about in the locker room."@@ A faint smile appears on Jordan's face. @@.jordan;"Maybe."@@ <<elseif $d19twinning is 6>>\ @@.luke;"Yo!"@@ he grins, falling into step beside you almost immediately. @@.luke;"So, who's the lucky bestie you're matching with today? It's gonna be epic."@@ You hesitate. @@.player;"I'm actually not matching with anyone."@@ Luke stops, his sneakers scuffing against the pavement. @@.luke;"Wait, what? Brooo..."@@ His face falls. @@.luke;"You could've asked me! We could've been, like... peanut butter and jelly, or SpongeBob and Patrick, or—"@@ @@.player;"I dunno,"@@ you cut in, shrugging. @@.player;"Just not feelin' it this year."@@ Luke makes a devastated noise. @@.luke;"Man, you're killing me. We could've crushed it. The //ultimate// duo. Everyone would've been jealous."@@ @@.player;"Guess we'll never know,"@@ you mumble. <</if>>\ <<button "To school!" "Day 19 - 6">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-exterior.png"> <<if $d19twinning is 0>>\ The two of you make your way toward Pacific Crest High. Luke's in a good mood, even though he showed up with two empty Gladiraid bottles as your Bestie Twinning props. Every few steps, he flips his bottle into the air like he's practicing some kind of bottle-flipping stunt, catching it just in time to keep it from hitting the ground. @@.luke;"So, do you think people are actually gonna get it?"@@ he says, tossing it again. @@.luke;"That we're matching, I mean. Or are they gonna think we just... both showed up with sports drinks?"@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"You mean, are they going to think we both showed up with //empty// sports drinks?"@@ He grins like that's a fair point. @@.luke;"Yeah, maybe it's, like... performance art. Symbolic. We can say we're doing dehydration awareness or something."@@ You roll your eyes. As you round the corner onto the school block, the building's front steps are already buzzing. Luke falls into a jog for no reason other than to beat you to the door. @@.luke;"You think they'd show our picture on the Spirit Week board if we win?"@@ he asks, holding the door open for you. @@.player;"I don't think they give prizes for Spirit Week,"@@ you say stepping inside. @@.luke;"They //should//,"@@ he insists. @@.luke;"Like a gift card or something. Free food could work. Or—"@@ You've stopped listening because the vending machine by the attendance office catches your eye. Rows of snacks, gum, and most importantly, perfectly chilled bottles of blue Gladiraid, all lined up in the middle row like they're mocking the empty one in your bag. You nod toward it. @@.player;"Alright. Make it up to me. Go grab me one of those."@@ Luke freezes mid-step. @@.luke;"Uh... I don't know about that."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean you don't know about that?"@@ you ask, narrowing your eyes. @@.player;"You promised you'd buy me one at lunch. Two, actually."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, about that,"@@ Luke says, gaze darting away. @@.luke;"I may have... slightly exaggerated my current financial situation."@@ @@.player;"Meaning?"@@ you press. @@.luke;"Meaning... I don't have any money,"@@ he admits, wincing like he's bracing for impact. You let out a long sigh, staring at the tile floor. @@.player;"Fine. You can pay me back later. But seriously, Luke—"@@ When you look up again, he's gone. Completely gone. No footsteps, no glimpse of his jacket in the crowd, not even the sound of his voice somewhere down the hall. One second he's standing there making excuses, the next it's like he evaporated into thin air. You glance around, scanning the stream of students filing toward their lockers, but there's no trace of him. Somehow, in the ten seconds you looked away, he's managed to vanish without a trace. @@.player;"Unbelievable,"@@ you mutter, pressing your palm against your face. With no twin and still no drink, you shoulder your backpack and head down the hall, resigned to starting the day already down a Gladiraid and one best friend. <<elseif $d19twinning is 1>>\ The three of you cut across the last block toward Pacific Crest High, the air cool but bright with a warm edge. Samantha's got the two unopened bags of hot chips tucked firmly under one arm. Luke is trailing behind like a kicked puppy, his head bowed and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. You glance back at him. @@.player;"You're //still// sulking?"@@ @@.luke;"I'm not sulking,"@@ Luke says, though it's the exact tone of someone who is absolutely sulking. @@.luke;"I've made my peace with it."@@ Samantha doesn't even slow her pace. @@.samantha;"No you haven't. You've sighed twelve times in the last five minutes. I counted."@@ @@.player;"She's right,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.player;"That's a lot of sighing for someone who's supposedly 'at peace.'"@@ Luke looks up just enough to glare at you both. @@.luke;"I'm just saying, if someone //really// cared about me, they'd let me have some hot chips."@@ @@.player;"You've been running the same line since we met up with Samantha,"@@ you say, scoffing. @@.player;"If it hasn't worked by now, it's not gonna."@@ @@.luke;"Sometimes, you've gotta plant the seed and let it grow,"@@ Luke murmurs. Samantha finally glances at him, the corner of her mouth twitching. @@.samantha;"Do you seriously want one that bad?"@@ Luke's eyes go wide. @@.luke;"Yes. Absolutely. More than I've ever wanted anything in my whole life."@@ Samantha stops walking, pulls one bag from under her arm, and rips it open. She holds it out to him. @@.samantha;"Fine. But one hot chip. One. Singular. As in, the number of brain cells you have left after playing football without a helmet that one time."@@ Luke nods solemnly before immediately plunging his entire hand deep into the bag. It comes out with a mountain of chips. He shovels the entire pile into his mouth in one go, crunching loud enough to make a kid on the other side of the street turn and look. @@.player;"Luke!"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"You took a quarter of the bag."@@ He's already chewing happily, red dust on the corners of his mouth. @@.luke;"Mmf. Worth it."@@ @@.samantha;"This is on me,"@@ Samantha says, shaking her head. @@.samantha;"I fell for the emotional manipulation. Textbook case."@@ @@.player;"Nah, it's on both of us,"@@ you correct. @@.player;"We underestimated how smart Luke gets when it involves food."@@ Luke swallows and grins. @@.luke;"You and Sam are the best best friends ever."@@ @@.player;"Best best friends?"@@ you repeat. @@.luke;"Yep. That's above regular best friends. That's the premium package. That's the—"@@ Samantha cuts him off with a wave of her hand. @@.samantha;"Finish that sentence and you're carrying my books for a week."@@ Luke zips his lips with an exaggerated motion, though his grin stays plastered on. You shake your head as the school comes into view. Samantha now guards the two bags like treasure, while Luke looks like he's just pulled off a major heist. You're not sure whether you should laugh or pretend you don't know either of them. <<elseif $d19twinning is 2>>\ Jessica's car hums smoothly along the road, the morning light flashing across the polished white hood every time you pass between trees. The air inside smells faintly of something expensive. Luke is next to you in the backseat, sprawled out. His chin is tilted upward and his eyes are straining toward the ceiling. You watch him for a second before asking, @@.player;"What are you doing?"@@ @@.luke;"Dude, I'm trying to see the sticker,"@@ he says without breaking concentration. @@.luke;"The one on my forehead."@@ You blink at him. @@.player;"Luke... that's not possible. Eyes don't work that way."@@ @@.luke;"Maybe not yours,"@@ he says confidently, still staring upward like his sheer voice of will might make his vision loop back onto itself. @@.luke;"But if I try long enough, I might get it. I think I saw a little bit of it just now."@@ @@.player;"You didn't,"@@ you say, rolling your eyes. @@.luke;"Pretty sure I did."@@ He leans even farther back, trying to cross his eyes upward. @@.luke;"Like, a little blur. That's gotta be the sticker."@@ Jessica glances at him in the mirror with a faint smirk. @@.jessica;"You know, there's a much easier way to check. It's called your phone camera."@@ @@.luke;"Nah,"@@ Luke says, still squinting at the ceiling. @@.luke;"I'm committed now."@@ You shake your head and turn toward Jessica. @@.player;"I'm honestly afraid he's gonna strain something if we let him keep going."@@ @@.luke;"Wouldn't be the first time,"@@ Luke mutters, still tilting his head at an awkward angle. Then, as if the thought just popped into his head, he drops his gaze and leans forward. @@.luke;"So... how did you two even get to know each other? I mean, really know each other?"@@ @@.jessica;"We first really met because we got paired up in homeroom as buddies. It was supposed to help everyone get to know someone they might not have talked to otherwise. Things... just went from there."@@ You nod. Luke grins. @@.luke;"That's cool. I actually became friends with my homeroom buddy too."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.jessica;"Who is it?"@@ Luke freezes. His eyes flick up toward the ceiling again, but this time it's not for the sticker. It's because he's thinking ''really'' hard. @@.luke;"Uh... I forgot his name."@@ @@.jessica;"You forgot your buddy's name?"@@ Jessica asks, laughing softly. Luke shrugs like it's no big deal. @@.luke;"I know his face, though. We sit next to each other every morning. It's fine."@@ Jessica laughs and you sigh. <<elseif $d19twinning is 3>>\ The three of you are nearly at school. Vincent falls into a measured pace like he's mapping every step in advance. Luke, on the other hand, bounces from curb to curb, occasionally stepping on a crack like it's some sort of challenge. @@.luke;"So, uh, Victor—"@@ @@.vincent;"Vincent,"@@ he corrects, already resigned. @@.luke;"Right, right. Why haven't I seen you around school much?"@@ Luke asks, squinting at him like Vincent might just disappear if he looks away. Vincent glances over. @@.vincent;"Well, that all depends on your schedule. What classes are you taking this year?"@@ Luke stares blankly ahead, mouth slightly open. @@.luke;"...Uh..."@@ @@.vincent;"Perhaps start with your mathematics course,"@@ Vincent says, adjusting his grip on his backpack. @@.vincent;"Which one are you in?"@@ @@.luke;"Algebra, I think."@@ @@.vincent;"Algebra 2?"@@ Vincent questions. @@.luke;"1."@@ Vincent stops mid-step. @@.vincent;"That's typically reserved for middle school students or freshmen."@@ Luke's eyes widen like Vincent just revealed a life-altering secret. @@.luke;"Ohh, so //that's// why everyone in my class is so young! I thought it was just some weird coincidence."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, Luke,"@@ you state, snorting. @@.player;"Totally random."@@ Vincent shakes his head with a small sigh, but keeps walking. @@.vincent;"And your English class? Are you in AP Literature, Honors, or the standard track?"@@ Luke brightens a little. @@.luke;"I'm with this random Indian kid."@@ Vincent blinks, caught between curiosity and mild concern. @@.vincent;"...Would that be the ESL course, by chance?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeahhh,"@@ Luke says, perking up. @@.luke;"That's it!"@@ Vincent glances at you for confirmation, and you shrug. @@.player;"You might wanna explain that to him before he starts thinking it's some kind of secret club."@@ @@.vincent;"ESL stands for 'English as a Second Language,'"@@ Vincent begins, obliging. @@.vincent;"It's generally for students who aren't native English speakers. The curriculum tends to be simplified—less complex literature, more foundational grammar."@@ Luke frowns. @@.luke;"Simplified? Dude, it's pretty hard to me..."@@ @@.player;"Luke, if you think that's hard, I'd love to see you try AP Lit for a week,"@@ you laugh, shaking your head. @@.luke;"I'd light it up cos it's lit!"@@ Luke says. Vincent decides to just drop the subject. @@.vincent;"Well... maybe in college."@@ By the time the school comes into view, Luke's long given up on figuring Vincent out, but you can tell he's already planning his next round of questions. Vincent, on the other hand, looks like he's bracing himself for it. <<elseif $d19twinning is 4>>\ Aurora walks just close enough that her shadow brushes the edge of yours, but her gaze stays forward, unreadable as always. Luke, however, has drifted so far behind you're surprised he's still keeping up. When you glance back, he's keeping several yards between himself and Aurora, his eyes flicking toward her like she might sprout bat wings at any moment. Aurora doesn't even need to look. She just knows. Her voice carries over the quiet morning, low and matter-of-fact. @@.aurora;"Relax, I'm not going to hex you or anything."@@ Luke stops dead in his tracks, his sneakers scraping the concrete. @@.luke;"You can do that???"@@ Aurora finally turns her head just enough for you to catch a faint glimmer of amusement. @@.aurora;"If I wanted to, sure."@@ Luke's eyes widen like she just admitted to owning a pet tarantula the size of a dinner plate. Without another word, he pivots hard and bolts toward the strip of woods running alongside the street. @@.luke;"I'll just... get to school on my own!"@@ he shouts over his shoulder, his voice getting fainter as branches snap under his shoes. You stare after him for a beat, then sigh. @@.player;"You realize he's probably going to get lost, right?"@@ Aurora doesn't break her stride, her gaze forward again. @@.aurora;"You have an interesting friend."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You get used to it after a while. It's kind of his thing."@@ To your surprise, she actually laughs. You blink at her. @@.player;"Huh. I didn't think you.. did that."@@ @@.aurora;"Don't get used to it,"@@ she says lightly, though the corner of her mouth has't quite stopped curving. <<elseif $d19twinning is 5>>\ You, Luke, and Jordan head down the familiar sidewalk toward Pacific Crest High School. Jordan walks on your right, tall and composed. To your surprise, he's actually responding to Luke's barrage of questions. Luke, of course, is thriving. @@.luke;"Okay, serious question for you. When you throw a pass, do you, like, //aim//, or is it more of a vibe thing?"@@ @@.jordan;"Aim,"@@ Jordan states. @@.jordan;"Always."@@ Luke nods like this is groundbreaking wisdom. @@.luke;"Right, right, aim. That makes sense. But then what about when you're running? You can't aim while running, right? That's gotta be pure vibe."@@ Jordan's mouth twitches, like he's holding back a smirk. @@.jordan;"You can aim while running. It's just harder."@@ @@.luke;"Dude... that's crazy,"@@ Luke says, impressed. @@.luke;"Okay, how about your fastest sprint time? And do you count in yards or meters? 'Cause Coach always says meters, but I think in yards, and it messes me up."@@ Jordan answers each question calmly, without sounding annoyed. He answers in short sentences, sure, but doesn't shut Luke down. @@.jordan;"Yards in football, meters in track. I don't run track. Forty-yard dash is the standard."@@ @@.luke;"Woah. That's like... forty meters, right?"@@ Luke's eyes widen at his own math. @@.jordan;"Close enough,"@@ Jordan says, an amused edge to his voice. You glance between them, a little baffled at how //not// frosty Jordan is being today. Luke turns to you, lowering his voice in what he thinks is a whisper. @@.luke;"Bro... how did you get to know him?"@@ @@.player;"I dunno,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"I kinda just did."@@ Luke stares like you just said you've been keeping a pet dragon in your backyard. @@.luke;"You're a wizard."@@ Jordan lets out a soft breath, clearly having overheard everything. Still not done, Luke swings back toward him. @@.luke;"So, does this mean you're gonna talk more during football practice now? Because you're usually like a brick wall. A really athletic brick wall, but still a wall."@@ Jordan's lips quirk in the faintest smile, and the three of you keep walking, Luke firing off a few more questions. He asks about favorite plays, if Jordan's ever been tackled so hard he forgot his name, whether he's ever thought about playing another sport, and more. Jordan actually answers, with just enough words to keep Luke's energy going strong. You walk alongside them, equal parts amused and impressed, because this is a very important moment for Luke. <<elseif $d19twinning is 6>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity - 10, 0, 100)>>\ By the time you and Luke reach Pacific Crest High, the crowd thickens. Every single one of them is matching. Luke's eyes go wide. @@.luke;"Bro. This is on you. You could've been a part of this."@@ You scan the scene: two guys wearing giant inflatable hot dog suits, a pair of girls dressed like popcorn, and two guys in full-on Victorian gowns. Someone in a banana suit walks next to a friend in a gorilla costume. It's insane. @@.player;"Meh,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"Didn't want to."@@ Luke throws his hands up, nearly hitting a passing student dressed as a horse. @@.luke;"You didn't want to?! Look at that!"@@ He points to two kids in massive foam dice costumes, rolling themselves across the grass. @@.luke;"That could've been us!"@@ @@.player;"And risk suffocating before first period?"@@ you ask, deadpan. @@.player;"Hard pass."@@ Luke groans and shakes his head. @@.luke;"Man, this is tragic. Absolutely tragic."@@ You just smirk and keep walking. <</if>>\ <<button "Homeroom" "Day 19 - 7">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> You're in your usual seat in homeroom, the hum of chatter blending with the squeak of chairs and the soft shuffle of notebooks being pulled out. Ms. Carter is perched at her desk, sorting through a small mountain of papers. She hasn't called for silence yet, which gives the room that restless buzz it tends to have before the day officially starts. <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ Jessica is already in the desk next to you, spinning her pen absently between her fingers. She's in her usual outfit, but you can tell something's a little different today. Her knee's bouncing and she keeps glancing in your general direction. @@.jessica;"Hey,"@@ Jessica says, turning halfway in her chair to face you. She brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. @@.jessica;"So. Still no new recruit."@@ You glance up from your phone. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ Jessica nods, lips pursed, like she's trying not to let her frustration show. @@.jessica;"Coach Moore texted me this morning. The freshman we were gonna try out backed out. Something about 'being more of a band kid than a flyer.'"@@ She lifts her hands in mock defeat. @@.jessica;"Which, you know, fair. But also, arghhh."@@ You offer a sympathetic noise, and she exhales sharply through her nose before continuing. @@.jessica;"Anyway, I'm really sorry,"@@ she says, dropping her voice a notch, her gaze flicking briefly around the class like she's making sure no one else is eavesdropping. @@.jessica;"But that probably means you're stuck with us again for the game today."@@ You can tell she doesn't like asking, but also knows you're the only person who can fill the gap without everything falling apart. You're not exactly a seasoned cheerleader, but you've learned enough to keep up. The team clearly trusts you as well. Still, you don't make it a big deal. @@.player;"It's fine,"@@ you say with a shrug. @@.player;"I just wanted to help."@@ Jessica smiles at that. @@.jessica;"You always say that like it's no big deal. But if you think about it, it kinda is. You saved our asses last time."@@ @@.player;"Well, someone had to,"@@ you say, glancing over at her. @@.player;"And you asked nicely."@@ @@.jessica;"Pfft. You make it sound like I had a choice,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"But seriously. You really handled it well. Like, better than I expected, even. You're a natural."@@ She pauses, then glances sideways at you, her expression shifting just slightly. The teasing fades, replaced by something quieter. A question forming. @@.jessica;"I mean... it wasn't just the routine,"@@ she says, thinking out loud now. @@.jessica;"You stuck around for practices, talked with the team, actually gave feedback. You even put up with Mia. That's, like, a miracle on its own."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"She's not //that// bad."@@ Jessica raises an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"She's so smug about everything. That's not normal."@@ @@.player;"Okay, fair,"@@ you reply. She falls quiet again for a moment, fiddling with the edge of a sticker on her water bottle. Her brows knit, almost like she's trying to decide if she wants to say something. Then she turns her head to look at you directly, her voice a little softer. @@.jessica;"$name, do you actually like being on the cheer squad?"@@ she asks. @@.jessica;"Or not?"@@ <<button "I like it" "Day 19 - 8">>\<<set $d19jessanswer to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jess_like_cheer" true "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't like it" "Day 19 - 8">>\<<set $d19jessanswer to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jess_like_cheer" false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ Jessica is already in the desk next to you, spinning her pen absently between her fingers. She's in her usual outfit, but you can tell something's a little different today. Her posture is tighter, her knee bounces and slightly, and every so often she glances toward the window like she's working something over in her head. She turns halfway in her chair, her voice quiet enough to keep the conversation between you two. @@.jessica;"So,"@@ she starts, drawing out the word like she's bracing herself, @@.jessica;"we still haven't found a replacement yet."@@ You tilt your head. @@.player;"For the squad?"@@ She nods, letting out a sharp sigh through her nose. @@.jessica;"Yeah. And it's //really// not great timing. Today's the Homecoming game, and we've been running with a gap in the formation for ages now. Everyone's adjusted, but it still feels... wrong. Unbalanced."@@ Her gaze dips to the edge of her desk before she looks back at you. @@.jessica;"I've done big games before, but Homecoming's different. Packed stand, band going all out, half the alumni deciding to 'drop by...'"@@ She lets out a humorless laugh. @@.jessica;"All eyes on us, and meanwhile I'm hoping no one notices we're short a person."@@ There's a beat where she hesitates, her expression uncertain. Then she glances at you more directly, like she's finally decided to just ask the thing that's been hanging between you since she turned around. @@.jessica;"You think it's gonna go well?"@@ <<button "Of course" "Day 19 - 8">>\<<set $d19jessanswer to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jess_cheer_outlook" "good" "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't think so" "Day 19 - 8">>\<<set $d19jessanswer to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_jess_cheer_outlook" "bad" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/school-homeroom.png"> <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<if $d19jessanswer is true>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I actually like cheerleading,"@@ you say. Jessica's eyes widen, like she wasn't sure what she was going to hear and had already braced herself for the worst. @@.player;"I didn't really expect to,"@@ you go on, voice thoughtful. @@.player;"At first I thought I was just doing it to help you out. And I mean... I was. But then practices were kinda fun. Everyone was nicer than I thought they'd be. The games were nerve-wracking, yeah, but performing was actually kinda cool? Like this whole rush I didn't know I liked."@@ @@.player;"So yeah,"@@ you say, meeting her blue eyes. @@.player;"I actually like it. A lot."@@ For a second, Jessica just stares at you with her lips parted slightly. Then she lets out a long, slow sigh of relief and leans back in her seat, dramatically clutching her chest like she just narrowly avoided a heart attack. @@.jessica;"Thank //God//,"@@ she mutters, shaking her head with a laugh. @@.jessica;"You have no idea how worried I was that you secretly hated it and were just too polite to tell me."@@ @@.player;"Jessica, did you see how enthusiastic I was?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"I'd have to have, like, cheerleading Stockholm syndrome."@@ She giggles at that, her shoulders finally relaxing. @@.jessica;"I know! But I just kept thinking maybe you were gonna burn out or ghost us one day. You were ''way'' too chill about everything."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"What, you wanted me to complain more?"@@ @@.jessica;"No, but I needed //something// to prove you were human."@@ @@.player;"Nah, I'm good,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"Besides, it's fun hanging out with the squad and being kinda good at something."@@ Jessica nudges your arm with her elbow. @@.jessica;"More than 'kinda.' You've been great. Like, actually great. You picked everything up insanely quickly."@@ @@.player;"Well, thanks for tricking me into joining, I guess,"@@ you say with a small smile. She grins. @@.jessica;"I didn't trick you. I simply invited you to watch us practice when you were emotionally vulnerable."@@ @@.player;"Oh, that makes it better."@@ @@.jessica;"Face it, $name,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"I've officially turned you into a cheerleader."@@ You groan softly but can't hide your grin. @@.player;"God. Don't say it like that."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ The quiet between you and Jessica stretches a little too long after her question. You glance down at the desk for a second. There's no avoiding the question, at least not with how genuine her question sounded. @@.player;"...I don't really like it,"@@ you admit, voice low but even. @@.player;"Cheering, I mean."@@ Jessica's eyes widen. You lift your shoulders in a small shrug, trying to soften the blow. @@.player;"It's not terrible or anything. And I don't regret doing it. But I didn't join because I wanted to be a cheerleader or anything like that."@@ You glance over at her, and when your eyes meet, you add, a little quieter, @@.player;"I did it because I wanted to help you."@@ Jessica blinks. @@.jessica;"You... really?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah. You were clearly stressed, you needed someone fast, and I figured I could survive a few games."@@ You offer a dry chuckle. @@.player;"It's not like I had anything better to do. And it was kind of nice seeing you not completely panicking after the first routine went okay."@@ Jessica stares at you, lips parted slightly, like her words are still processing. Then she closes her mouth and presses her fingers to her temple. @@.jessica;"Oh my God,"@@ she mutters. @@.jessica;"I feel like an actual villain."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You're not."@@ @@.jessica;"I //am//, though."@@ She leans forward across her desk, dropping her voice but speaking quickly. @@.jessica;"I totally steamrolled you into this. Like, what I thought was 'oh $name will do it, he's nice, he's always nice.' I didn't even stop to think about whether you were enjoying any of it. I just... I needed help, and you were there, and I didn't think past that."@@ @@.player;"It's not like you forced me."@@ @@.jessica;"Still,"@@ she sighs. @@.jessica;"That's a crap reason to keep someone doing something they don't like."@@ You shake your head, gently. @@.player;"I said I'd do it because I wanted to help. That's still true. And I //did// want to be there. For you."@@ Jessica presses her lips together, looking down at her notebook for a second before looking back up at you. There's a furrow in her brow and a twist in her expression that signifies both guilt and gratitude. @@.jessica;"I'm gonna find someone else,"@@ she says quietly but firmly. @@.jessica;"Like, //actually// this time. I didn't realize you felt like this. If I had, I never would've let it go on this long."@@ @@.player;"I wasn't gonna just leave you hanging when the season was just about to start,"@@ you say. @@.jessica;"I know. That's why I feel even worse."@@ She lets out a long breath, watching you for a moment. She doesn't say anything else, but there's a weight in her silence. Something still lingering that she hasn't quite said yet. Something she's turning over in her head. But for now, she just looks forward again, her shoulders a little tenser than before. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d19jessanswer is true>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Of course,"@@ you say, leaning forward slightly. Jessica blinks, a bit caught off guard by the certainty in your tone. Her lips curve into a tentative smile, like she wants to believe you but still needs a second to let it sink in. @@.jessica;"You really think so?"@@ You meet your eyes. speaking without hesitation. @@.player;"You'll make it work, Jessica. If anyone can do it, it's you."@@ Her shoulders relax just a fraction, that tension in her posture easing. She lets out a soft breath and shakes her head like she's trying to hide how much it means to hear that. @@.jessica;"God, I needed that,"@@ she admits, her smile widening. @@.player;"You've been practicing for weeks,"@@ you add. @@.player;"I've seen you pull things together when it looked impossible. I've seen how you handle things when people are counting on you."@@ @@.jessica;"You're a better pep talker than half of the people on my squad,"@@ Jessica states. @@.jessica;"Maybe I should drag you to practice sometime."@@ @@.player;"Not a chance,"@@ you say quickly, though there's a glint of a grin at the corners of your mouth. Jessica chuckles, but her eyes soften. She lets out an exhale of relief as she leans back in her chair. She doesn't say anything else, but the way her smile lingers tells you you've done something good just by believing in her. <<else>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You lean back slightly in your seat, shrugging in a way that's meant to be casual but comes out a little too blunt. @@.player;"I don't think so."@@ The effect is instant. Jessica's face shifts as her mouth presses into a thin line and the faint spark in her eyes dims. She doesn't roll her eyes or snap back, doesn't even look offended. It's more like you just confirmed the worry she'd been trying to keep from showing too much. You realize immediately how flat it must have sounded. @@.player;"I mean, I just meant you're down a person, so... y'know, it's not really your fault,"@@ you start, words tumbling over themselves. @@.player;"It's just the reality, right? Doesn't mean you won't still do well. I just..."@@ You trail off, unsure how to make it sound better without turning it into obvious damage control. Jessica gives a small nod, glancing down at her desk again, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. @@.jessica;"Don't worry, I get it. You're just being honest."@@ There's no bite in her voice, but her tone //has// cooled a little. The noise of homeroom fills the space between you. Somewhere near the front laughs loudly and a desk scrapes across the floor. Jessica just sit there, absently spinning her pen again, her focus somewhere else. You want to say something that would pull her out of the quiet drop in mood, but the right words don't really come. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - 9">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-cafeteria.png"> <<set $cheerbffknow to false>>\ <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<if $d12tellbff is true>>\ The lunchroom buzzes with the usual mid-day chaos. Your tray clatters down across from Luke and Samantha, both already halfway through their lunches. Luke's devouring what looks like an aggressively overstuffed sandwich, while Samantha lazily stabs at her rice and chicken with a plastic spork. @@.luke;"Dude, are you cheering again tonight?"@@ Luke asks. You glance over at him. @@.player;"Yeah. I'm on the field again today."@@ @@.luke;"Let's gooo!"@@ he cheers, lifting both fists like he's the cheerleader you're the wide receiver. @@.luke;"That means I get to watch you do those crazy flips again."@@ @@.player;"I didn't do any flips,"@@ you deadpan. @@.samantha;"Yet,"@@ Samantha chimes in. @@.samantha;"Give it another week and we'll see you doing handsprings down the fifty-yard line."@@ Luke gasps. @@.luke;"You //could// though. You're bendy."@@ @@.player;"I am //not// bendy,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"Could've fooled me,"@@ Samantha jokes. @@.samantha;"You looked pretty nimble at the last game."@@ @@.luke;"Anyway, I'm hyped,"@@ Luke says, cheeks puffed out with food. He swallows, thumps his chest like a caveman, and grins. @@.luke;"You're gonna cheer, I'm gonna get touchdowns, and then we win the whole thing. That's the dream."@@ @@.samantha;"You say that every game,"@@ Samantha says flatly. Luke frowns. @@.luke;"Well, this time it's true. The other team's quarterback sucks. I watched his highlight reel. Dude throws like a grandpa."@@ @@.player;"You watched tape?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.luke;"Coach told us to,"@@ Luke says, shrugging. @@.luke;"I got bored after ten minutes, but I saw enough. We're good."@@ Samantha rolls her eyes and takes a sip of water. @@.samantha;"You football players and your delusions."@@ Luke ignores her and turns to you again. @@.luke;"Hey, so like, are you wearing the same uniform from last time? Or do you get new ones?"@@ @@.player;"Same one,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"It's only one per person unless something rips."@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"Aw, Puke. What, wanna see the Asian girl again?"@@ Luke immediately chokes on his food. @@.luke;"What? No! I just meant the uniform, like, if it's different colors or something?!"@@ You and Samantha both laugh. @@.samantha;"I'm just saying that you were pretty invested in her last time,"@@ Samantha adds with faux innocence. @@.samantha;"All starry-eyed and stuff."@@ @@.luke;"I didn't know it was $name, okay!?"@@ Luke insists, red-faced. @@.luke;"And he looked completely different!"@@ @@.player;"I was wearing a uniform, not a mask,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.player;"You could've put it together."@@ <<if $d12makeup > 0>>\ Luke points an accusing finger. @@.luke;"You had makeup on! That's cheating!"@@ <<elseif $d11skirt is true>>\ Luke points an accusing finger. @@.luke;"You had a skirt on! That's cheating!"@@ <<else>>\ Luke points an accusing finger. @@.luke;"You had those really short shorts on! That's cheating!"@@ <</if>>\ You snort into your water bottle as Samantha covers her mouth, stifling a giggle. @@.luke;"Y'all are so mean to me,"@@ Luke mumbles, sulking. @@.luke;"My feelings are hurt."@@ You lean back in your chair. It's comforting, in a weird way. Even with everything changing, this is still the same table, the same friends, the same dumb jokes. And somehow, they make everything feel okay. You glance down at your tray, then back up at them with a small smile. <<button "Luke, do you want lip gloss? I can bring you some" "Day 19 - 10">>\<<set $d19lunchq to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_lunch_cheer_convo" true "story">><</button>> <<button "Samantha how would you look in a cheer uniform?" "Day 19 - 10">>\<<set $d19lunchq to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_lunch_cheer_convo" false "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<if $gameday1CGhair is 3>>\ <<set $temp to "Long">>\ <<elseif $gameday1CGhair is 2>>\ <<set $temp to "Medium-length">>\ <<else>>\ <<set $temp to "Short">>\ <</if>>\ <<set $temp1 to $d12makeup + 8>>\ The lunchroom buzzes with the usual mid-day chaos. Your tray clatters down across from Luke and Samantha, both already halfway through their lunches. Luke's devouring what looks like an aggressively overstuffed sandwich, while Samantha lazily stabs at her rice and chicken with a plastic spork. @@.samantha;"You ready for the game tonight?"@@ Samantha asks, looking up at Luke with one eyebrow cocked. @@.luke;"Ready?"@@ Luke says, cheeks puffed out with food. He swallows, thumps his chest like a caveman, and grins. @@.luke;"We're //definitely// gonna win."@@ Samantha's expression doesn't budge. @@.samantha;"Uh-huh. You said that about every game last year. You went 8-2. Which isn't bad, but isn't 10-0."@@ @@.luke;"You have no faith, Samantha,"@@ Luke states. @@.luke;"You gotta believe. Manifest it. Visualize the W for the Pacific Crest Panthers."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, well, I visualized you tripping on your own shoelaces during warmups,"@@ she says dryly. @@.samantha;"So far, that's the only vision that's come true."@@ You snort. @@.player;"She's got a point."@@ @@.luke;"You too, $name?"@@ Luke asks, gasping. @@.luke;"I thought you'd at least believe in me."@@ @@.player;"I'm just saying, maybe don't act like you've already won before the game starts."@@ He leans back in his chair, arms spread out confidently. @@.luke;"Hey, the vibes are different this time. I can feel it in my hamstrings."@@ @@.samantha;"If your hamstrings had predictive power, you'd be past Algebra by now,"@@ Samantha mutters dryly. Luke grins and points at her like she's proven his point. @@.luke;"See? Banter like this? That's why I know tonight's gonna be legendary."@@ You shake your head, smiling to yourself. @@.samantha;"Oh, by the way,"@@ Samantha says, tilting her head toward you. @@.samantha;"Where //were// you during the last game?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ Luke nods immediately, mouth full. @@.luke;"Yeah, Sam was going on and on about how you just vanished."@@ He swallows dramatically. @@.luke;"She was like, 'Where's $name? He was supposed to sit next to me!"@@ @@.samantha;"I did //not// say it like that,"@@ Samantha mutters, but she doesn't deny it. You scratch the back of your neck, trying to keep your face neutral. @@.player;"I, uh... I had stuff to do."@@ Luke leans in. @@.luke;"What kind of stuff?"@@ You shrug, eyes flicking down to your tray. @@.player;"Just... stuff."@@ @@.samantha;"Well, that's not suspicious at all,"@@ Samantha says flatly, eyeing you over the rim of her water bottle. @@.samantha;"What kind of //stuff// takes priority over watching your best friend dramatically fail on the field?"@@ Luke jumps in with a grin. @@.luke;"I made the game-winning touchdown, thank you very much."@@ @@.samantha;"You tripped into the end zone,"@@ Samantha deadpans. @@.samantha;"It was less of a touchdown and more of a gravity-assisted stumble."@@ @@.luke;"I think you're misremembering things,"@@ Luke mumbles. Samantha rolls her eyes before glancing back at you. @@.samantha;"Anyway. Seriously, where'd you disappear to?"@@ You open your mouth to say something, but before you can come up with a decent deflection, Luke speaks again. @@.luke;"Did you //see// that new cheerleader, though?"@@ he says. @@.luke;"$temp black hair. Pretty sure she was Asian. Kinda looked like—"@@ He pauses, then shrugs. @@.luke;"I mean, not like you, but, like... sorta like you. From far away."@@ Samantha hums thoughtfully. @@.samantha;"Yeah, I saw her. She's new, right? Must've just joined. She was good, though. Had the timing down and everything."@@ Luke nods enthusiastically. @@.luke;"And she was //pretty//. Not in, like, a weird way! Just objectively. I'd give her, like, a solid $temp1 out of 10."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"What's the scale here?"@@ @@.luke;"Don't worry about it,"@@ Luke says, waving her off. You stay quiet, watching the two of them go back and forth while trying not to squirm in your seat. The weird tight feeling in your chest returns. They're talking about you, and they have no idea. Not yet. <<button "That girl's actually me" "Day 19 - 10">>\<<set $d19lunchq to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_lunch_reveal_in_cheer" true "story">><</button>> <<button "That girl did pretty well, huh?" "Day 19 - 10">>\<<set $d19lunchq to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_lunch_reveal_in_cheer" false "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ The lunchroom buzzes with the usual mid-day chaos. Your tray clatters down across from Luke and Samantha, both already halfway through their lunches. Luke's devouring what looks like an aggressively overstuffed sandwich, while Samantha lazily stabs at her rice and chicken with a plastic spork. @@.luke;"Alright, everyone!"@@ Luke declares after swallowing. @@.luke;"Today's the day. Redemption. Glory. Victory."@@ @@.samantha;"Didn't you say you were going to win last week?"@@ Samantha asks, giving him a flat look. Luke frowns. @@.luke;"Yeah, and?"@@ @@.samantha;"A Riverview defender knocked it out of your hands and we lost."@@ Luke glares at her. @@.luke;"That was a warm-up game. Doesn't count."@@ You swallow your bite. @@.player;"Pretty sure the school's record would disagree."@@ @@.luke;"You two have no faith,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"I'm telling you that we're gonna win today. I can //feel// it. I'm gonna make Pacific Crest proud."@@ @@.player;"Mhm,"@@ you say, nodding slowly. @@.player;"Sure."@@ @@.luke;"Don't patriotize me, $name."@@ @@.samantha;"Patronize you? Who's patronizing?"@@ Samantha says with mock innocence. @@.samantha;"I'm just pointing out that the team is already off to a 0-1 record. Statistically, not promising."@@ Luke throws his hands up. @@.luke;"You guys are the worst support squad ever."@@ @@.player;"We're not the cheerleaders, you know,"@@ you point out. @@.samantha;"Exactly,"@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"We have no obligation to lie to you."@@ Luke gasps. @@.luke;"I can't believe you'd say that to me. Me! Your best friend."@@ @@.player;"My best friend wouldn't fumble the ball,"@@ you mutters into your drink. Luke just flops into his seat and sighs. @@.luke;"You're both gonna eat those words when I catch the game-winning pass. Mark my words."@@ @@.samantha;"I'll mark them in invisible ink,"@@ Samantha says dryly. Luke frowns before suddenly getting a burst of energy. @@.luke;"Oh!"@@ he exclaims. @@.luke;"Hey, are you coming to the Homecoming party on Saturday?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"The one after the game?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah!"@@ he says, nodding. @@.luke;"It's gonna be huge. Decorations, snack, music, dancing. You gotta come, dude."@@ <<button "I'll go" "Day 19 - 10">>\<<set $d19lunchq to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_attend_homecoming_party" true "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't really want to" "Day 19 - 10">>\<<set $d19lunchq to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_attend_homecoming_party" false "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/school-exterior.png"> <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true or $d19bowlingcompany isnot undefined>>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $outfit to $tempoutfit>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to $templowerUndergarment>>\ <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ <</if>>\ The school bell rings out sharp and final at 3:00 PM, echoing through the corridors of Pacific Crest High School like the starting gun of something big. Students flood the halls immediately. Some are rushing home, but most are getting ready to head to the Homecoming game. You tighten the strap on your backpack, take one last breath of the classroom air, and start making your way toward the front of the school. You find Samantha leaning casually against the wall near the school's front entrance, arms crossed, phone out, and a lollipop hanging out of her mouth like a cigarette. She looks like she's plotting something dangerous. Which, knowing her, she probably is. @@.samantha;"There you are,"@@ she says without looking up. @@.samantha;"Took you long enough."@@ You adjust the strap on your backpack. @@.player;"Sorry."@@ Samantha rolls her eyes and shoves her phone into her hoodie pocket. @@.samantha;"Well, no time for apologies now. We've got bigger things to deal with."@@ @@.player;"Such as?"@@ She pushes off the wall, walking with purpose toward the flagpole. @@.samantha;"The Sierra Heights Wolves. You think they're just gonna roll over and let us win on our home turf?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"I mean... we're not even on the team."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly. Which means we have no rules."@@ She spins on her heel to face you, that glint in her eyes sharper than ever. @@.samantha;"$name, we are going to sabotage them."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"Wait. What?"@@ @@.samantha;"Sabotage,"@@ she repeats, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. @@.samantha;"Not anything super bad, I'm not //that// evil. Just enough to rattle them and shake their alpha-wolf confidence. Let 'em know they're in Panther territory."@@ You hesitate. @@.player;"Samantha, we're just spectators—"@@ @@.samantha;"No, we're not,"@@ Samantha states, already pulling a folded piece of paper from her pocket. @@.samantha;"Let me correct you here. We, $name, are agents of chaos."@@ You sigh. @@.player;"Oh no."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh yes,"@@ she says, unfolding the page. @@.samantha;"Allow me to present your options."@@ The page is full of scribbles and arrows and what appears to be a hand-drawn wolf mascot with Xs for eyes. @@.samantha;"Operation One: Poster Pandemonium. We print out a bunch of dumb memes of their mascot. I've got one where it looks like he's getting kicked in the balls. We'll tape them all over the place where their bus will park. You know, classic stuff."@@ @@.player;"That's... stupid,"@@ you say, grinning despite yourself. @@.samantha;"Stupid, sure, but it is effective,"@@ she shoots back. @@.samantha;"Now, Operation Two: Streamers of Betrayal. You know that tunnel everyone uses for their intro? The one with the lights and the smoke machines?"@@ You nod slowly. @@.samantha;"Each team gets their own streamer setup. What I think we should do, is replace their streamers with Pacific Crest colors. Imagine them coming through and stepping into a storm of blue and black Panther colors."@@ @@.player;"Samantha, that is //so// petty,"@@ you mutter. She beams. @@.samantha;"Exactly."@@ You shake your head in disbelief. @@.player;"Is that it, or do you have another one?"@@ @@.samantha;"Operation Three: Locker Room Loyalty Crisis."@@ She holds up three fingers. @@.samantha;"We sneak into the away locker room before they get there and plant a bunch of signs in their lockers that say things like 'Go Panthers!' or 'Sierra Heights = Chihuahuas.' It'll be emotionally devastating."@@ @@.player;"Sounds terrifying to me,"@@ you mutter. You glance around the courtyard. Students are breaking off in every direction. The Wolves won't arrive for a while longer. The tunnel is probably still being prepped. The locker room might even be unlocked. And you're right here, standing next to your best friend who may be too loyal to her school. Samantha steps in front of you, pressing the paper to your chest. @@.samantha;"So. What'll it be?"@@ <<button "Operation One: Poster Pandemonium" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation One 1">>\<<set $d19spectatorprank to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_spectator_operation" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Operation Two: Streamers of Betrayal" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation Two 1">>\<<set $d19spectatorprank to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_spectator_operation" 2 "story">><</button>> <<button "Operation Three: Locker Room Loyalty Crisis" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation Three 1">>\<<set $d19spectatorprank to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_spectator_operation" 3 "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-footballa.png"> The crowd is already beginning to gather, a slow but steady stream of people trickling through the gates of the Pacific Crest stadium. The low thump of distant music floats on the late afternoon air, mixing with the scent of cooking food. You and Samantha make your way toward the main entrance, blending in with the crowd of arriving spectators. Everyone hums with that particular kind of excitement that only Friday night football can bring. @@.samantha;"Okay, now that Operation Chaos is complete, we get to enjoy the show,"@@ Samantha mutters beside you with a satisfied smirk. You nudge her with your elbow. @@.player;"Assuming we don't get arrested."@@ @@.samantha;"Meh, it'd be worth it,"@@ she says simply. The main gate looms ahead. It's lined with blue and black balloons, and a couple of large Panther banners flap overhead. As you pass through, a voice calls out to you with unexpected enthusiasm. @@.girl;"Welcome, welcome! Go Panthers!"@@ You blink. A girl with striking blue hair and a little star sticker on her cheek beams at you. There are stickers, mini foam claws, temporary tattoos, and more in her hands. You don't recognize her, but she radiates so much school pride. @@.girl;"Here!"@@ she says, handing you a little plastic flag on a stick. @@.girl;"Take some merch. Panther pride, baby! You two better be screaming louder than the Wolves fans, alright? Go Panthers!"@@ Samantha flashes her a lazy salute. @@.samantha;"We'll do our best, merch goddess."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Thanks..."@@ @@.girl;"No problem!"@@ she chirps, already turning to the next group of people with the same level of energy. @@.player;"She's a lot,"@@ you murmur under your breath as you and Samantha move away. @@.samantha;"Yeah, but in a fun way. I like her,"@@ Samantha says, waving the stupid flag. You and Samantha weave around the crowd, stepping over backpacks and walking around clusters of students. You two eventually make your way to the back, where there are much fewer people. Then you spot Vincent. He's perched stiffly on the bench in the very back, arms tightly crossed, knees awkwardly pressed together like he's trying to take up as little space as physically possible. His wide eyes scan the field like he's on high alert. But it's not the game that has him so rattled. It's Aurora, who's sitting right next to him. Her legs are crossed, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and her posture is perfect. It's like she's sitting for a gothic portrait rather than a high school football game. Her expression is so unreadable that it's unnerving. Vincent spots you and Samantha and starts begging. @@.vincent;"$name!"@@ he calls, voice pitching higher than usual. @@.vincent;"Save me. Please."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"What, are you being held hostage?"@@ @@.vincent;"I came up here to be alone and do some research, and then she sat down right next to me. On purpose. Like I wasn't already sitting here!"@@ Aurora doesn't even blink. @@.aurora;"You looked lonely,"@@ she says calmly, eyes still fixed on the field. @@.vincent;"I was lonely!"@@ Vincent insists. @@.vincent;"That was the whole point!"@@ She tilts her head just slightly. @@.aurora;"Silence shared is still silence. Besides, you looked like an abandoned cat. It felt wrong to ignore it."@@ @@.samantha;"Wow,"@@ Samantha exclaims, snorting. @@.samantha;"You really are being held hostage."@@ @@.vincent;"I'm not kidding,"@@ Vincent whispers dramatically. @@.vincent;"She hasn't blinked in like three minutes. I think she reads minds."@@ Aurora turns to him and finally smiles. @@.aurora;"Only yours."@@ Vincent's soul visibly leaves his body for a second. You're trying not to laugh as Samantha drags you forward. @@.samantha;"Okay, okay, make room, Vincent. We're your reinforcements now."@@ @@.vincent;"You're the best,"@@ he sighs in relief, already scooting down the bench and muttering something. Samantha drops next to Vincent while you take the seat next to Aurora. Aurora acknowledges your presence with a soft nod. @@.aurora;"Hey,"@@ she says. @@.player;"Hey."@@ Samantha kicks her feet out in front of her, stretching. @@.samantha;"Let's get comfy. We've got a whole show ahead of us."@@ <<button "Ask Vincent if he thinks magic is real" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 3">>\<<set $d19spectatoravquestion to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_spectator_question" "vincent" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask Aurora if she thinks science is real" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 3">>\<<set $d19spectatoravquestion to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_spectator_question" "aurora" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-footballn.png"> <<if $d19spectatoravquestion is true>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"So,"@@ you say to Vincent, @@.player;"do you think magic is real?"@@ Vincent immediately straightens up. @@.vincent;"Oh, definitely not. I mean, there's no empirical evidence for any of that. Every time someone claims a spell or a summoning or whatever, it turns out to be illusion, misdirection, or some other trick. The entire notion of magic historically arose from our lack of understanding of natural phenomena. Thunder was once magic. Disease was magic. Now? Germ theory, electricity, quantum mechanics."@@ He gestures vaguely toward the field, his voice gaining speed like a diesel locomotive. @@.vincent;"And if you look at it sociologically, magic was often used as a tool of power or control. Witch trials, fear-mongering, mass delusions, all that. And let's not even get started on alchemy, which, while fascinating, is not science. So no, magic as it's traditionally presented, doesn't hold up under scrutiny."@@ You glance at Samantha. She's staring at you with that look that you know all too well. Vincent isn't done. @@.vincent;"Plus, from a philosophical standpoint, if you define magic as something that violates the laws of physics, then by definition it can't exist. Because once something becomes observable and measurable, it ceases to be magic and becomes science. Arthur C. Clarke's third law says that 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.' Right? So half the stuff people used to call magic we now explain through complex or totally grounded principles of chemistry or—"@@ It's about then that he registers the quiet. You, Samantha, and even some kid two rows down are staring at him. But more importantly, so is Aurora. She hasn't moved, but her purple eyes are locked on Vincent. They're calm and patient, like she's waiting to see how this all ends. Vincent swallows. @@.vincent;"...But,"@@ he says quietly, @@.vincent;"uh... there's always a chance. I guess. That, you know... something might still be out there. Something we just don't understand yet. Doesn't mean it's not real."@@ Aurora tilts her head slightly before muttering, @@.aurora;"Wise."@@ Vincent lets out a tiny, terrified laugh and goes back to fidgeting with his phone. @@.samantha;"Dude, I don't know if I'm with Vincent here,"@@ Samantha whispers into your ear. @@.samantha;"Aurora's got powers. I'm not even joking."@@ She's not wrong, but you can't say that. <<else>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You shift slightly on the bench, glancing at Aurora beside you. Her posture is oddly perfect, like she's watching a different game altogether. Out of curiosity, you lean over a bit and ask, @@.player;"So... do you believe in science?"@@ Vincent scoffs instantly. @@.vincent;"Of course science is real. What kind of a question is tha—"@@ He stops. Aurora has turned to look at him with a steady gaze. Vincent's voice dies in his throat. He straightens his glasses, then sinks down slightly in his seat. You turn back to Aurora, half amused. @@.player;"Well?"@@ For a moment, you expect her to stay cryptic. But then she beings to speak. @@.aurora;"Science is a language,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"A way to interpret the world. The formulas and laws aren't wrong, but they're just one of many lenses. There are things older than science. Patterns in dreams. Whispers in salt. Shadows that move when no one's watching. Science explains what we can measure. But it doesn't stop the unmeasurable from being real."@@ Samantha stiffens beside you. Aurora's gaze returns to the field. @@.aurora;"The mistake is thinking that mystery is ignorance. Sometimes, the unknown is intentional."@@ You blink. Vincent looks like he's trying to become one with the bench. @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ Samantha says, leaning over and hissing in your ear. @@.samantha;"She's off her rocker."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Game time!" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 4">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-footballnd.png"> The four of you are mid-conversation when a sudden shift in the stadium's energy draws your attention. The floodlights turn on, blazing bright and casting harsh white beams across the field. The crowd swells in anticipation as the band begins playing a thunderous tune. Even the fog machines begin to hiss from the far end of the field. The machine roars as confetti and streamers explode in a burst of blue and black. Then, with a shout, the Panthers charge onto the field. They burst out, each one of them grinning wide and whooping like they've already won. The cheerleaders are at the sidelines, doing everything they can to build energy. The crowd goes absolutely wild. @@.boy;"YEAH, PANTHERS!"@@ someone shouts, voice cracking with excitement. Samantha cups her hands and hollers, @@.samantha;"LET'S GO, PACIFIC CREST!"@@ with enough volume to rattle your eardrum. Vincent covers his ears, but can't stop smiling. Even Aurora claps a little, albeit with her gaze fixed on the players as if reading their futures. The music pounds louder, layered now with the screams of the home crowd. In the tunnel, the last of the streamers shoot out. The bleachers tremble under the collective jumping. <<if $d19spectatorprank is 1>>\ <<if $d19op2streamer is true>>\ The fog machines whir up for the second time, and the crowd quiets down as they brace for the Wolves' arrival. A sharp burst of blue and black explodes from the machine. For a split second, there's only confusion. You watch Sierra Heights players start to jog out into the field, only to hesitate. One of them turns his head up, clearly noticing the error. Another slows to stare at the swirling blue and black ribbons raining down from above. @@.girl;"Wait, isn't that our colors?"@@ someone shouts in the crowd. But the team keeps going. A few of the players shrug, and one just throws his hands up. A few Pacific Crest students snicker. Samantha stifles a laugh behind her hand. @@.player;"They think it's a glitch,"@@ you whisper. @@.samantha;"Perfect,"@@ she replies. @@.samantha;"Nothing throws you off like a system error you're trying to play cool."@@ The Wolves recover rather quickly, continuing their run onto the field, but it's not quite as cohesive. They look a little unsure, like they're trying to figure out what the hell just happened. You can't help but grin. <<else>>\ The marching band begins playing again and the tunnel fills with smoke. Then a wave of streamers blasts out of the machine. But instead of the red and silver, it's brownish-green. A sickly tone that resembles vomit. The confetti catches in the air, and a few pieces even flutter straight into the Wolves' faces. @@.boy;"What the hell?"@@ one of them mutters. Another player recoils, trying to swat the color away. One guy stumbles over his feet in disbelief. A girl from the Sierra Heights section makes a sound like she just swallowed a bug. You and Samantha are dying of laughter. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she whispers, practically keeling over next to you. @@.samantha;"This is the best thing we've ever done."@@ One of the Wolves reaches up and rips a streamer from the air, staring at it in horror. @@.boy;"I feel like I just ran through a diaper,"@@ someone mutters. You bite your knuckle to keep from losing it completely. @@.samantha;"Confidence officially lowered,"@@ Samantha states with a victorious smirk. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ The fog machine roars to life again as the Pacific Crest crowd dies down. From the same tunnel, the Sierra Heights Wolves make their entrance. The streamers and confetti burst forth in a cloud of red and silver. The team charges forward with confidence, arms pumping, helmets gleaming under the stadium lights. The crowd on their side cheers just as hard, with students waving crimson flags and silver pom-poms. Samantha exhales, unimpressed. @@.player;"They rehearse that or something?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"I don't know, dude,"@@ she mutters. You watch as the Wolves line up, calm and poised. Their entrance was perfect. For a second, you wonder if Pacific Crest really has a shot. <</if>>\ @@.girl;"Let's fight, Panthers! Blue and white, we own the night!"@@ The cheer squad are in a formation that you can tell they've practiced a hundred times. They're down one person, you can tell. The symmetry's just slightly off. One of the stunt formations is missing a base, and the pyramid they build doesn't go as high as it should. But what they do pull off? It's still impressive. The crowd eats it up. It looks like fun, even from here. Maybe a little scary too. You wonder how different things would've been in another world where you joined. If you'd been the one launching into flips. Still, even without you, the team holds their own. They're not perfect, but they're proud, loud, and fierce. And maybe that's what matters. The cheerleaders jog off the field with a bunch of grins, waving to the crowd as the music fades. Samantha leans in. @@.samantha;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Let's see if our panthers can handle the wolves."@@ @@.boy;"Good evening, Pacific Crest High!"@@ The booming voice of the stadium announcer cuts through the music. The band tapers off and the crowd claps politely before falling to a hush. @@.boy;"Welcome to the 2024 Homecoming Game! Tonight, your very own Pacific Crest Panthers will take on the visiting Sierra Heights Wolves in what promises to be an unforgettable matchup. We've got a packed house tonight, an exciting halftime performance, and plenty of school spirit. Let's make some noise!"@@ The bleachers erupt in cheers, the applause roaring. @@.boy;"Let's bring out our team captains for the coin toss!"@@ Jordan walks forward with three other players, helmet under his arm and expression sharp with focus. The visiting team's captain approaches from the opposite end of the field, meeting at the fifty-yard line with the referee, who holds a silver coin in one hand. The mic picks up the exchange as the ref holds up the coin. @@.boy;"Heads is the school logo, tails is the state seal. Sierra Heights, you're the visiting team. Call it in the air."@@ The Wolves' captain, a tall, broad guy with a buzz-cut, nods and calls, @@.boy;"Heads."@@ The coin goes into the air, arcing high under the field lights. It spins before landing flat in the grass. @@.boy;"Looks like it's heads! Sierra Heights wins the toss. They've elected to defer."@@ The kicker for the Panthers plants his cleats into the turf, the ball poised on the tee. A pause. A whistle. And then his leg swings forward in a smooth, practiced arc, sending the ball soaring into the air. <<button "The game begins!" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 5">><</button>>

The second quarter winds down with a roar as Pacific Crest leads 28 to 13. The home crowd goes wild. You watch from your spot in the bleachers as the cheer team launches into the halftime routine. It's clean, even impressive. They hit their stunts with solid control, their formations are sharp, and the timing stays mostly tight. There's a tiny stumble in the basket toss, but the flyer (who looks oddly smug) sticks the landing like a pro. By the time the team hits their final pose, the stadium's on its feet. It's not perfect, but it's really damn good. The kind of performance that keeps the momentum firmly with the Panthers. As the cheerleaders head off, the field is empty. A few football players are throwing the ball around, but most are catching their breath and grabbing water. Helmets come off, towels come out, and coaches give pep talks. Everyone's sweating, but fired up. Samantha stretches her arms behind her head. @@.samantha;"I'm gonna go grab snacks,"@@ she announces. @@.samantha;"Need fuel for the trash I'll be talking once we win."@@ She hops down the stairs with a bounce, turning back just long enough to toss you a look. @@.samantha;"Want anything, $name?"@@ Before you can answer, Aurora stands up too. She brushes down her purple plaid skirt and says calmly, @@.aurora;"I need to investigate something."@@ @@.player;"Investigate?"@@ you ask, blinking. She doesn't elaborate. Just tucks a lock of purple-streaked hair behind her ear and drifts away into the crowd. Classic Aurora. Vincent, looking overwhelmed by the noise and crowd and Aurora's general existence, scoots further into the corner of the bench. @@.vincent;"I'll just.... stay here,"@@ he mumbles. @@.vincent;"Guard everything."@@ And that just leaves you. You watch Samantha weaving toward the concessions, already arguing with someone. you glance the other way, where Aurora has nearly disappeared. And next to you, Vincent sits clutching a sticker sheet like it's somehow going to save him from all this. <<button "Go with Samantha" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 6">>\<<set $d19spectatorhalftime to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_halftime_companion" "sam" "story">><</button>> <<button "Follow Aurora" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 6">>\<<set $d19spectatorhalftime to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_halftime_companion" "aurora" "story">><</button>> <<button "Stay with Vincent" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 6">>\<<set $d19spectatorhalftime to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_halftime_companion" "vincent" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d19spectatorhalftime is 0>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ The line at the concession stand crawls forward. You find Samantha tapping her fingers against her thigh, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in deep contemplation. Not about anything important, no. That wouldn't be Samantha. She's in a battle with herself. @@.samantha;"Cheese or no cheese,"@@ she mutters, staring at the bag of hot chips. @@.samantha;"That is the question."@@ You glance over at her, raising a brow. @@.player;"You really like hot chips that much?"@@ @@.samantha;"$name, what the hell are you talking about?"@@ she asks, like you've said the dumbest thing she's ever heard in her entire life. @@.samantha;"Hot chips are the most important food group."@@ You blink. @@.player;"They are not a food group."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you wake up and decide to be the FDA?"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Hot chips are crunchy, spicy, and messy in the best way. They're pure chaos, and I've got to respect that."@@ @@.player;"...Okay."@@ She ignores your dubious tone and continues. @@.samantha;"And then there's the cheese. That's what I'm conflicted about. Sometimes, cheese enhances. Sometimes, it drowns the chip. Too much, and it turns into a soggy mess. Too little, and it's dry. It's a delicate balance."@@ @@.player;"I've never heard you even half this passionate about our classwork,"@@ you murmur under your breath. @@.samantha;"Yeah, 'cause none of our classes offered hot chips."@@ The people in front of you move aside. You're next. @@.samantha;"Okay, you know what?"@@ she says, turning to you. @@.samantha;"I'm trusting you with this choice. Cheese or no cheese?"@@ <<button "Cheese" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 7">>\<<set $d19spectatorsamantha to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_sam_option" "cheese" "story">><</button>> <<button "No cheese" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 7">>\<<set $d19spectatorsamantha to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_sam_option" "no cheese" "story">><</button>> <<elseif $d19spectatorhalftime is 1>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You follow Aurora through the tunnel, weaving around stragglers and students until you're away from the crowds. The moment you're far enough from the noise, her gait changes, becoming slower and more deliberate. She doesn't speak, but the air around her ripples with a strange energy. It's not just the way she moves, either. There's something about her sheer presence alone that makes you instinctively stay quiet. She stops near the bottom of the stairs, eyes narrowing at a hairline crack in the cement wall. It's completely unremarkable until it just //isn't//. A soft shimmer runs along the surface. You blink, and it's gone. You step a little closer. @@.player;"What is this?"@@ @@.aurora;"There's something wrong at Pacific Crest,"@@ she murmurs, voice low. You frown. @@.player;"Wrong how, exactly?"@@ Aurora crouches down and extends her hand just above the crack. Her fingertips never touch it, but a flicker of purple light pulses from her palm. Delicate tendrils spill out. They're faint at first, but quickly sharpen into distinct runes that rotate in the air before fading into smoke. @@.aurora;"I can't tell you much,"@@ she says, straightening up. @@.aurora;"Not yet."@@ You take a slow breath, trying to wrap your head around what you're seeing. @@.player;"Are you tracking something?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Something magical?"@@ She doesn't answer, instead opting to step back. A wisp of amethyst smoke trails from her sleeve and dissipates before it can touch the air. You keep following her, letting her do whatever the hell she's doing. Eventually, you speak again. @@.player;"You sure you can't tell me anything?"@@ Aurora stops mid-step. You think she might ignore you again, but instead, she turns. There's something indulgent in the way she tilts her head at you. @@.aurora;"You ask a lot of questions."@@ @@.player;"I mean, can you blame me? Look at you."@@ She lifts a hand and closes it slowly, gathering the fading mana into her fist. The glow dies, but the tension remains. @@.aurora;"Fine,"@@ she says after a long pause. @@.aurora;"One question. Just one."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Seriously?"@@ She nods, the faintest glimmer of a challenge in her gaze. @@.aurora;"But make it count."@@ <<button "What exactly is wrong at Pacific Crest?" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 7">>\<<set $d19spectatoraurora to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_aurora_halftime_question" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Have you done this kind of thing before?" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 7">>\<<set $d19spectatoraurora to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_aurora_halftime_question" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Am I involved in any of this?" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 7">>\<<set $d19spectatoraurora to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_aurora_halftime_question" 2 "story">><</button>> <<elseif $d19spectatorhalftime is 2>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ The stands have thinned out a bit during halftime, the crowd either stretching their legs or rushing toward snack lines. The band shuffles somewhere in the background while the cheerleaders are celebrating. You sit back against the bleachers, letting your shoulders drop for the first time in while. Beside you, Vincent is still holding his notebook protectively. You glance at him, then down at the notebook in his lap. @@.player;"Can I see it?"@@ you ask. He hesitates. @@.vincent;"My notebook?"@@ @@.player;"No, your secret journal,"@@ you joke, smirking. @@.player;"Yes, your notebook."@@ Vincent flushes, his fingers twitching against the cover. @@.vincent;"It's just class notes. Really boring. Probably not your thing."@@ @@.player;"I'm bored,"@@ you say simply. @@.player;"Entertain me. I promise I won't judge."@@ He reluctantly chuckles before finally sliding the spiral-bound notebook into your hands. You flip it open, expecting page after page of history. And, to be fair, you //do// get that. But what really catches your attention is the artwork. Scattered among the notes are dozens of penciled-in illustrations. They aren't just doodles either, they're ''really'' good. Tiny vignettes of the past, nestled between bullet points and historical analysis. Knights charging across foggy battlefields. Camel caravans winding between sandstone cliffs. Soldiers mid-fire from wars that went down centuries ago, uniforms perfectly rendered. @@.player;"Holy shit,"@@ you say under your breath, flipping back and forth between pages. @@.player;"Vincent... these are insane. You drew all this?"@@ He shrugs sheepishly. @@.vincent;"Yeah. Drawing helps me focus. If I don't do something with my hands, I start overthinking everything. My brain starts going off on its own."@@ You pause on a two-page spread: a siege scene, complete with battering rams, arrows, and tiny individual soldiers retreating behind cover. @@.player;"And this helps you focus?"@@ you ask. Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"It really does. I just... I don't know. History feels more real when I draw it. Like I'm actually there, not just memorizing names and dates. Imagining what they saw, smelled, heard, felt, all that. If I can picture it, i can understand it better."@@ You flip to another page, and this one is covered in careful drawings of early firearms. Muskets, pistols, even a revolver. All labeled in fine pen with the names and manufacturing dates. @@.player;"So, I'm guessing you're a weapons nerd?"@@ you tease. @@.vincent;"A little,"@@ Vincent admits. @@.vincent;"Mostly historical ones. It's fascinating how much you can learn from just one weapon. It's design, materials, even the politics of the time. For example, the French 1777 Charleville musket was standard issue for Napoleon's army. It reflects how France was advancing and refining its military-industrial capacity. They were improving standardization, interchangeability, and accuracy. They //had// to, in order to go up against the British."@@ You blink. @@.player;"That was a lot of detail really fast."@@ He laughs quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. @@.vincent;"Sorry. I tend to do that."@@ @@.player;"No, it's cool,"@@ you say honestly. @@.player;"You clearly do love this stuff."@@ He shrugs again. @@.vincent;"It just feels important. Like, so many people have been born and lived before dying. The world we have now, every single inch of it, was shaped by people most of us don't even remember. I don't want to forget them."@@ You turn another page and find a stylized map full of rivers, mountains, and kingdoms. Definitely not real. @@.player;"And this?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"Oh, that's just from a worldbuilding project,"@@ he says, grinning faintly. @@.vincent;"It has sky pirates."@@ @@.player;"Of course it has sky pirates."@@ He finally laughs. Not awkwardly, but genuinely. You point to one of the drawings. <<button "Tell me more about the knight" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 7">>\<<set $d19spectatorvincent to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_vincent_halftime_question" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Why the camels?" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 7">>\<<set $d19spectatorvincent to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_vincent_halftime_question" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "I've gotta hear about the sky pirates" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 7">>\<<set $d19spectatorvincent to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_vincent_halftime_question" 2 "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d19spectatorhalftime is 0>>\ <<if $d19spectatorsamantha is true>>\ @@.player;"Cheese,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Gotta go all in."@@ Samantha squints at you before turning to the snack vendor. @@.samantha;"Hot chips with cheese, please."@@ The guy takes her cash, and she's handed a steaming cardboard tray filled to the brim with hot chips drenched in orange cheese. It smells artificial and probably has ''way'' too much sodium, but that's not your concern. You both walk back to the bleachers, Samantha carefully balancing her prize. The moment you sit down, she digs in, scooping up a chip and popping it into her mouth. There's a pause before her lips slowly press into an unimpressed line. She grabs another chip. Another chip. Chews thoughtfully. Then she lowers the tray onto her lap, glances sideways at you, and says, @@.samantha;"I feel so betrayed right now."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Already?"@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, they're soggy,"@@ she says, lifting a limp chip to illustrate. @@.samantha;"Do you see this? This is not the crisp experience I was promised. Not. Even. Close. This is a soggy abomination pretending to be food."@@ @@.player;"You said they were the perfect snack."@@ @@.samantha;"They //are//,"@@ she shoots back. @@.samantha;"When they're hot and chip. Not wet and... sad."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"You're being dramatic."@@ @@.samantha;"I trusted you with a critical decision,"@@ she says, dramatically wiping nonexistent tears from her eye. @@.samantha;"And now here I am, wallowing in disappointment and shitty dairy."@@ @@.player;"You've still gone through, like, twenty of them."@@ @@.samantha;"Twenty too many."@@ She lifts another floppy chip for emphasis. @@.samantha;"It's delicious, but that's because it's a hot chip, not despite it."@@ @@.player;"So next time, you want me to say no cheese?"@@ you ask, snorting. @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"I would not feel this betrayed right now if you didn't tell me to get cheese."@@ But even as she grumbles, she pops another chip into her mouth. And another. @@.player;"You're still eating them though,"@@ you comment. @@.samantha;"Still hot chips,"@@ she mumbles between bites. <<else>>\ @@.player;"No cheese,"@@ you declare with a shrug. Samantha squints at you before mumbling, @@.samantha;"You better be right about this."@@ A few minutes later, you're back in your seats, a paper tray of bright red chips balanced in her hands. They smell like spice. You glance over as she digs in, crunching through the first few with purpose. But by the fourth chip, she pauses. She lifts a chip slowly, staring at it with a look of pure disappointment. Then she turns to you with the heavy weariness of someone who has known loss in its purest form. @@.samantha;"I feel betrayed,"@@ she says flatly. You blink. @@.player;"You literally said you trusted me."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, and let me tell you, that was my first mistake."@@ She pops another chip into her mouth. She's resigned, like someone who's finishing a subpar meal out of principle. @@.samantha;"$name, these are dry."@@ @@.player;"They're still good, though."@@ @@.samantha;"They're fine,"@@ she admits. @@.samantha;"But they could've been transcendent."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"You're being dramatic."@@ @@.samantha;"Am I?"@@ she shoots back with her signature sarcastic edge. @@.samantha;"Because ''I'' think what's //actually// dramatic is how you singlehandedly robbed this moment of its potential. I was ready for cheese nirvana, $name. And instead I'm sitting here eating whatever this is."@@ @@.player;"You act like I ruined your entire week."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm just saying, next time I say I trust you with something important, maybe remember that you once said 'no cheese.'"@@ Another chip disappears into her mouth. She makes a disappointed little "hmph" sound as she crunches. @@.samantha;"Would've been better with cheese,"@@ she mutters. @@.player;"Duly noted,"@@ you mutter, leaning back. @@.player;"Cheese next time."@@ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ Samantha nods. @@.samantha;"Good. Learn from your mistakes."@@ Then, under her breath, @@.samantha;"Can't believe I let my best friend decide my toppings."@@ <<else>>\ Samantha nods. @@.samantha;"Good. Learn from your mistakes."@@ Then, under her breath, @@.samantha;"Can't believe I let a man decide my toppings."@@ <</if>>\ You laugh. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d19spectatorhalftime is 1>>\ <<if $d19spectatoraurora is 0>>\ @@.player;"What exactly is wrong at Pacific Crest?"@@ you ask. Aurora doesn't stop walking. @@.aurora;"I don't know,"@@ she says, flatly. You frown. @@.player;"Come on. You said I could ask one question. That's my question."@@ @@.aurora;"I //am// answering,"@@ she says, casting a glance over her shoulder. @@.aurora;"I literally don't know."@@ You blink. That's... not what you expected. @@.player;"Wait, really?"@@ Aurora finally slows to a stop by a window. A purple shimmer pulses faintly from her palm, spreading the mist over the glass before vanishing. She lets out a quiet breath. @@.aurora;"There's something here,"@@ she murmurs. @@.aurora;"Something wrong. I can feel it. The signs are scattered and hidden, but I have enough to know it's going to be big."@@ You stay quiet, letting her continue. @@.aurora;"I've been dong this a long time,"@@ she says, eyes scanning the distance like she's reading something in the shadows. @@.aurora;"Long enough to trust my instincts when they tell me something's off. Even when—no, //especially// when I can't see the shape of it yet."@@ There's only calm conviction in her voice. It's almost unsettling, how certain she is. You glance around. Everything's been normal today. It's hard to imagine anything ominous happening at your mundane high school. @@.player;"And... it's your job to fix it?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"It's always my job,"@@ she mutters. She doesn't explain what that means, but her tone doesn't invite further questions. You watch her silently for a moment, noting again the slight weariness in her posture. It's not exhaustion, just a weight she's learned to carry well. You take a breath, the sounds of the game drifting in from a distance. Aurora's already moving again, drawn by something only she can sense. And without really thinking, you follow. <<elseif $d19spectatoraurora is 1>>\ You glance at her, brow raised. @@.player;"Have you done this kind of thing before?"@@ Aurora doesn't answer immediately. Her pause is long enough to feel deliberate, but not so long that you think she didn't hear you. Her gaze lingers on the night sky just beyond the window, and for a moment, you wonder if she's even going to acknowledge the question at all. Then she speaks softly. @@.aurora;"Many times."@@ You blink, caught off guard by the clarity of the answer. @@.player;"Wait, really?"@@ @@.aurora;"It's sort of been my responsibility,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"For a while now."@@ That's all she offers. You open her mouth to ask more, but something about her posture stops you. She's not being evasive for no reason like usual. There's a kind of weight in her voice. Not secrecy for secrecy's sake, but like someone who's learned that saying less is safer. Someone who's carried this around longer than they should've. You study her for a moment in the moonlight. Her expression is neutral as always. Always unreadable. Always calm. But now that you're really looking, you notice something else: a slight tiredness at the corner of her eyes. The quiet kind of tiredness that doesn't come from missing sleep. You swallow. @@.player;"So you're like... Crestview Bay's secret magical investigator?"@@ That earns you the faintest smile. It's not a full grin, not even close, but it //is// something. She still doesn't answer. Just steps past you, making her way back to the bleachers. You trail after her in silence, letting the question hang between you. You don't need her to say anything else to know she's done this before. And you don't need her to say anything else to know she'll be doing it again. <<elseif $d19spectatoraurora is 2>>\ You swallow and ask, @@.player;"Am I involved in any of this?"@@ Aurora doesn't look up, but she does pause. The purple shimmer fades from her hand as she exhales. She turns her head just enough to meet your gaze. Her dark violet eyes hold yours like she's seeing something deeper than your face. @@.aurora;"You are."@@ Your heart gives a confused thud. @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, voice quieter now. @@.player;"How can you tell? What's going to happen?"@@ Aurora shakes her head. @@.aurora;"I don't know,"@@ she says softly. @@.aurora;"Not yet."@@ @@.player;"So I'm involved, but you don't know how?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.aurora;"I know you're going to be a part of it,"@@ she says again, simply. @@.aurora;"You're connected to it. That's all I can feel for now. But something is pulling at the threads, and you're one of them."@@ You run a hand through your hair, stomach turning. @@.player;"But I don't //want// to be involved."@@ It slips out too fast and too raw, but you really do mean it. You didn't sign up for anything like this. You're not a hero. You're just... you. Someone who came to watch a football game. And now, for whatever reason, you're tangled up in something far bigger than yourself. Aurora doesn't answer right away. She turns, brushing past you as she steps away from the window. The glow at her fingertips has gone dim. It's just skin, ordinary and human. @@.aurora;"I didn't want to be either,"@@ she says, voice low. You look at her and there's something tired in the way she says it. Not just weary from the long day, but something older. A weight she's used to carrying. A choice she never got to make. You don't say anything after that. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d19spectatorhalftime is 2>>\ <<if $d19spectatorvincent is 0>>\ @@.player;"Tell me more about the knight,"@@ you say, tapping the edge of Vincent's notebook where the knight is charging. The armor gleams with sharp, layered strokes. The chainmail peeks out beneath the plated shoulders, a long cape whipping behind them. A lion crest is drawn across the chestplate in metallic gold ink. Vincent perks up immediately. @@.vincent;"Oh! That one's from the High Middle Ages, probably around the 12th century,"@@ he says, already flipping to a page filled with diagrams of armor, labeled with careful handwriting. @@.vincent;"That was kind of the golden age of knighthood. You know, before gunpowder and longbows made the whole 'walking tank' thing a lot less viable."@@ You nod, and he's off. @@.vincent;"So, knights weren't just sword-swinging brutes. They were actually part of a super rigid social structure. You didn't just wake up one day and //decide// to be a knight. You had to be born into nobility, start training as a page when you were, like, seven, then become a squire. And only after years of that, usually by your early twenties, you would oftentimes get knighted by someone important."@@ He flips again, revealing a breakdown of weapons and their uses: longsword, lance, flanged mace. There's even a labeled drawing of a destrier, which is apparently a type of warhorse bred for strength and endurance. @@.vincent;"They were like the elite warriors of their time. Super expensive to train and equip. That's why most knights also owned land and had vassals and peasants farming for them and all that. That money funded their gear. Some of them had multiple horses. One for travel, one for battle, one for tournaments, and a couple of backups in case one broke its leg."@@ @@.player;"When am I getting five horses?"@@ you joke. @@.vincent;"When you become a knight,"@@ he replies, grinning. @@.vincent;"And then there's the chivalric code, which wasn't actually that widespread or consistent. It's just been romanticized like crazy afterward. Y'know what I mean. Honor, bravery, protecting the weak, loyalty to your liege. Most of that came after the fact. Like retroactive PR."@@ @@.player;"Your drawings are great,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's like he belongs to something bigger."@@ Vincent goes quiet at that, then gently closes his notebook. @@.vincent;"Thanks,"@@ he says, smiling in that awkward but sincere way of his. @@.vincent;"For letting me ramble. Most people just don't care."@@ @@.player;"I do,"@@ you say, meaning it. <<elseif $d19spectatorvincent is 1>>\ @@.player;"Why the camels?"@@ you ask, your eyes landing on the drawing of a caravan. There are half a dozen camels, roped together, with tiny bundles strapped to their backs and riders in windblown cloaks. Vincent looks up and smiles. @@.vincent;"Oh. Oh! Okay, so these aren't just any camels,"@@ he says, scooting a little closer and flipping to the next page, which is marked with terrain maps and trade routes in different colored pens. @@.vincent;"These are Bactrian camels. Two humps, not one. That's important because they were native to Central Asia, especially places like the Gobi Desert, and they were basically the engines of the Silk Road."@@ Vincent continues, already in lecture mode. @@.vincent;"So, during the height of the Silk Road, camel caravans were essential. Bactrian camels could go without water for literal days, carrying hundreds of pounds of goods. They could pass through deserts and mountains. Horses and wagons couldn't really compete in many of these stretches. It was just camels."@@ You nod slowly as he warms up even more. @@.vincent;"How do I put this. These camels were basically the long-haul trucks of the ancient world. People would trade all across Central Asia, through cities like Samarkand and Dunhuang. China would export a bunch of super valuable stuff like silk, porcelain, and tea. In return, they'd get things like wool, glassware, and gold. Hell, even ideas. Religions like Buddhism spread thanks to these routes."@@ Another flip. Another diagram. This one's got figures in flowing robes, camels kneeling at a market square, little coin purses with currency you don't recognize. The detail is ridiculous. @@.vincent;"The thing is, most people think trade was just you dropping your stuff off and then going home,"@@ Vincent says, gesturing excitedly. @@.vincent;"But if you study it, it really wasn't It was like a relay system. No one went all the way from Xi'an to Constantinople. Goods would change hands dozens of times. Prices would increase, languages would shift, stories would mutate. Camels were at the heart of that. They connected the dots. God, they are ''so'' underappreciated."@@ You grin, genuinely impressed. @@.player;"That's actually really cool."@@ @@.vincent;"Right?"@@ he says, like he's been waiting for years to say that. @@.vincent;"They look a bit silly, but they're legends. Without them, the Silk Road wouldn't have been the same. No vast caravans, no great exchange of cultures, no Marco Polo. They held the whole thing together."@@ You glance at the caravan one last time. Each camel is distinct, marked with tiny symbols on their saddlebags. One even has a patterned blanket on his back. You hadn't realized how much care he'd put into them until now. Quietly, you close the notebook and hand it back. @@.player;"Thanks for showing me,"@@ you say. Vincent holds it close for a second. @@.vincent;"Thanks for listening."@@ <<elseif $d19spectatorvincent is 2>>\ @@.player;"I've gotta hear about the sky pirates,"@@ you say, grinning as you point at the jagged coastline and cluster of airships on Vincent's hand-drawn map. Vincent blinks, startled. It's like he hadn't expected you take an interest. Then a shy but unmistakably proud smile tugs at his mouth. He adjusts his glasses and leans in a bit. @@.vincent;"Okay, so,"@@ he begins, flipping to another page filled with tiny airship silhouettes and annotated sketches of floating islands. @@.vincent;"They're not technically pirates. The official term is skyraiders, but everyone just calls them pirates because they don't pay port taxes and rob people."@@ You laugh softly, and he continues, warming up now. @@.vincent;"Most of the story takes place in the Azure Belt. That's a cluster of floating continents suspended over a shattered sea. People live up there now because the surface got, like, totally wrecked in the Collapse. Some kind of ancient magical-tech war a thousand years ago. It's not really important what caused it, just that it broke the world and now gravity's all weird."@@ He flips the page again, revealing a rough blueprint of a massive airship with mechanical wings and hull plating. There are notes in the margins: //steam core balance? turret on deck? use griffin feathers for drift tech???// @@.vincent;"There's like four major factions, right?"@@ Vincent says, tapping the page. @@.vincent;"You've got the Dawn Accord, who pretends to be all noble but are actually super corrupt. Then there's the Iron Vow, who run the black-market trade routes. The Coral Syndicate controls the water access. And finally, the pirates, who are basically unaffiliated sky scum just trying to stay alive."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Sky scum?"@@ @@.vincent;"In a good way!"@@ he insists. @@.vincent;"They're scrappy and cool. Their hygiene though..."@@ You snort, and he chuckles before continuing, flipping through more drawings. There are rusted cities suspended on chains from drifting mountains, a flying cathedral-ship, and a crew featuring a scowling woman with a peg leg and a robot parrot. @@.vincent;"And they all fly through these permanent cloudstorms that kind of act like sea currents. Pirates use them to hide, launch ambushes, or slip between borders. They have old maps of the windstreams from the pre-Collapse days, but they're half-lost and written in dead languages."@@ He's moving quickly now, flipping from one page to another, barely giving you time to register the sheer volume of worldbuilding he's packed into this spiral notebook. There are whole sections with super dramatic headings like ''The Oracle Isles'' or ''The Fallen King''. One has sketches of ceremonial coins used to buy passage through skygrave ruins. @@.player;"This is crazy detailed,"@@ you murmur, flipping back to the map. @@.vincent;"I've been working on it since middle school,"@@ he admits, cheeks going pink. @@.vincent;"Like... not every day, but I'll think of something and add it in. I've got five notebooks at home. This one's just the geography and military stuff. I have a whole one just for flags."@@ You stare at him, not sure whether to be impressed or overwhelmed. @@.player;"So what's the story about?"@@ Vincent blinks before his face falls into a sheepish smile. @@.vincent;"I, uh, haven't exactly figured that out yet. I keep meaning to, but every time I sit down to write it, I end up working on the history of the Coral Syndicate's marriage customs or redesigning the pirate bathrooms or... I don't know. I just like building the world."@@ You laugh, and Vincent grins too. @@.player;"Well, at least when you do figure out the plot, you won't have to make up anything else,"@@ you say, handing the notebook back. He cradles the notebook and mutters, @@.vincent;"That's the hope."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 8">><</button>>

The final seconds tick down on the scoreboard, the bright red numbers gleaming. The crowd slowly starts rising as it hits the single digits, as everyone sense the inevitably of what's coming. 5 4 3 2 1 ''BUZZ'' The place erupts. Airhorns, clapping, screams, whistles. The marching band bursts into a triumphant fanfare as everyone leaps to their feet. The bleachers literally shake under the weight of all the jumping and cheering. @@.boy;"And that's it! Final Score, 42-24! Pacific Crest takes the win for their 2024 Homecoming Game!"@@ You get caught up in the tidal wave of sound, and for a moment just take it in. The energy. The chaos. The way people scream with their whole chests like it's the greatest moment in the world. People will be talking about it at the party. People will be talking about it on Monday. Hell, it might still be talked about next year. To your right, Samantha throws both arms in the air with a victorious shout. @@.samantha;"Yesss! That's what I'm talking about, dude!"@@ Her voice is barely audible due to the roar around you, but her smile is unstoppable. She turns to you and punches you arm lightly. @@.samantha;"See, $name. I told you we'd wipe the floor with 'em."@@ A few rows ahead, someone is literally waving a giant flag like they're leading a medieval army into battle. The Pacific Crest student section chants something rude toward the Sierra Heights student section. The cheerleaders are jumping for joy. A couple of players are tossing their helmets and hugging like they just won the Superbowl. They didn't, of course, but it sure feels like it. Vincent is hunched over his notebook, somehow still furiously scribbling something in the middle of all this. His glasses are slightly fogged from the chilly night air, but his pencil moves like he's documenting something important. He mumbles to himself as he sketches, eyes flicking between the field and the page. And then, to your left, there's Aurora. She sits perfectly still, a few strands of her hair drifting in the breeze. She taps her foot, seemingly unconcerned about the game. It's like she knew Pacific Crest had the win far before the game even started. As the stadium booms with celebration and the night air grows electric with victory, you can't help but wonder what comes next. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 9">><</button>>

The field is a whirlwind of celebration. The turf is packed with players, cheerleaders, and excited students pouring in from the stands. Pacific Crest blue and black seem to shimmer in the air, carried on banners, jerseys, pom-poms, and streaks of face paint. The air just buzzes with victory. You and Samantha make your way down the steps, weaving through clusters of students who shout congratulations and snap photos. Every few feet, someone is hugging a player or lifting their phone to record the chaos. You're not sure if there's an official celebration plan, but it's obvious no one wants the night to end. @@.samantha;"God, they're gonna be talking about this for weeks,"@@ Samantha says beside you, tugging her striped sleeves down as the wind picks up. @@.samantha;"We destroyed them."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"That was unreal."@@ Near the end zone, the cheerleaders are all excited, forming a celebratory huddle with a few players joining in. They're laughing and jumping, with some girls tossing their pompoms into the air. They try to form another pyramid, but everyone's laughing so hard that someone nearly tumbles backward. It's chaotic, joyous, and messy. Amidst it all, Luke comes jogging up to you and Samantha, wearing his helmet under one arm and a stupidly huge smile on his face. His ginger curls are damp with sweat, and he's basically vibrating with excitement. @@.luke;"DID YOU SEE THAT?!"@@ he yells. @@.luke;"That touchdown. I mean, I //told// coach I could do it! Did you see it?!"@@ Samantha opens her mouth to reply, but before she can, a pair of cheerleaders rush by and grab Luke by the arm. @@.girl;"Luke! We're doing pictures! Come on!"@@ one of them calls. @@.luke;"Oh! Uh..."@@ Luke says, looking at you two. @@.luke;"I'll be back in like—just hold on a sec!"@@ He's swept away before either of you can answer. Samantha sighs. @@.samantha;"Yeah, one sec my ass."@@ You laugh. A few moments later, Luke reappears from a different angle, eyes locking on you again. @@.luke;"Okay! Can we talk about—"@@ @@.boy;"Luke!"@@ a teammate grabs him this time. @@.boy;"Coach wants a line-up shot, come on!"@@ Luke stumbles after him, looking over his shoulder apologetically. @@.luke;"I swear, I'll be back!"@@ Samantha doesn't even bother answering this time. She just watches him vanish into the sea of people and exhales flatly. @@.samantha;"Yeah, the dude's gone. Let's just go."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you agree, nodding. @@.player;"Good game, though."@@ You turn away from the field, making your way to the exit. You pass by a few clusters of students already discussing the afterparty. Apparently, it'll be at the local bowling alley, Velocity Lanes. Just as you two exit the stadium and round a corner, your gaze catches someone moving. He's alone, half-shadowed, and doesn't look like he's in a rush. It's clear he's slipping out before anyone notices. Except, he does notice you. Your eyes meet. Brown. <<if $jordanRomance > 9>> Jordan's expression shifts the second he sees you, eyes lighting up immediately. There's no hesitation. His smile isn't small or subtle, but it //is// shy, like a secret meant only for you. He slows just a beat longer than he needs to before slipping into the woods. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 49>>\ Jordan's face softens with an easy warmth. The kind shared between two people who've known each other through more than a few ups and downs. He gives you a tired but genuine grin, lifts his hand in a low wave, then ducks into the woods with a nod. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 29>>\ Jordan spots you and his expression flickers with recognition. It takes a second, but then he gives a short, relaxed smile. He doesn't stop walking, doesn't wave, just meets your gaze for a beat before disappearing into the woods. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 14>>\ Jordan glances up, catches your eye, and seems to register your presence for a moment. His face remains neutral, and he turns away without slowing down. He ducks into the woods, already moving on from the moment. <<else>>\ You can't make out any more details before he slips into the woods. <</if>>\ Samantha squints after the retreating figure, one hand raised like she's shielding her eyes from the nonexistent sun. @@.samantha;"Who is that?"@@ she asks. @@.samantha;"I couldn't see. Was that someone important? Was it a moment?"@@ You don't say anything, opting to just keep walking. And together, you leave the school grounds behind. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - 11">><</button>>

@@.player;"Fine, let's go for the poster one,"@@ you finally say. Samantha scans your face and immediately grins. @@.samantha;"Poster Pandemonium it is. Good choice,"@@ she says, already spinning on her heel. @@.samantha;"Let's humiliate some wolves."@@ You barely have time to open your mouth before she grabs your wrist and starts dragging you across the courtyard. The Pacific Crest library doors swing open with a creak, and within seconds, she's beelining toward the row of computers and printers near the back. It's a quiet corner that's usually used for printing essays and documents. //Usually//. Samantha slaps her laptop onto the table and opens it. @@.samantha;"Okay. The Sierra Heights team bus is arriving in thirty. That gives us fifteen minutes to print and prep. Ten minutes to deploy. Five to get out. We'll hang everything along the fence where they'll park, so the first thing they see when they step out is our school spirit."@@ You blink. @@.player;"We don't have a ton of time."@@ @@.samantha;"It's fine, I was born for this,"@@ she says, eyes glued to the screen as she clicks through folders. @@.samantha;"Alright. I whipped these up in homeroom. You tell me which one's your headliner."@@ She turns the screen toward you and taps the trackpad. Three options blink back at you. ''Poster 1: "Sierra Frights"'' A crudely photoshopped image of the Sierra Heights wolf mascot hiding under a blanket, eyes wide with cartoonish fear. A massive Pacific Crest panther looms over it with glowing eyes, like a horror movie villain. The caption reads: "Welcome to Panther Territory. Hope you packed your nightlight." ''Poster 2: "Baby's First Game"'' An edit of the Sierra Heights football team from last year, except everyone's heads have been swapped with oversized baby faces. The Wolves' quarterback is wearing a bib. The caption says: "Let the adults show you how it's done." ''Poster 3: "Wolf Who?"'' A missing poster with the Sierra Heights logo crossed out. It says: "MISSING: Sierra Heights Wolves. Last seen fleeing from Pacific Crest High School. If found, remind them where they are." You raise an eyebrow as you squint at the screen. @@.player;"Did you seriously photoshop all this?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, of course,"@@ Samantha replies, connecting her laptop to the printer. @@.samantha;"I'm just really passionate about school spirit and constructive bullying."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Constructive?"@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, totally,"@@ she says, clicking through the printer settings with alarming speed. @@.samantha;"It's not bullying if it's in Comic Sans. That's just art."@@ You stare at the image of the terrified cartoon wolf hiding under a blanket, then over at the one with bib-wearing football babies. @@.player;"This is what you did in homeroom?"@@ @@.samantha;"Some people study. I slander. I think we all contribute in our own way,"@@ she says, shrugging. @@.samantha;"We don't have all day, though. Pick one and I'll mass print the hell out of it."@@ <<button "Sierra Frights" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation One 2">>\<<set $d19op1poster to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_op1_poster" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Baby's First Game" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation One 2">>\<<set $d19op1poster to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_op1_poster" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Wolf Who?" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation One 2">>\<<set $d19op1poster to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_op1_poster" 2 "story">><</button>>

<<if $d19op1poster is 0>>\ You grin. @@.player;"Let's go with Sierra Frights. I like the horror vibe that it's going for."@@ Samantha's eyes light up. @@.samantha;"Excellent choice, my dear $name. Fear is a powerful motivator. And by motivator, I mean source of endless punchlines to mock them with."@@ She spins toward the printer, cackling as she hits the button to print 30 copies. The machine roars to life. @@.player;"You seriously made this in class?"@@ you ask. She shrugs. @@.samantha;"Listen, my homeroom teacher said to use our creative energy. I used mine to produce psychological operations. Same thing, basically."@@ You pick up one of the fresh prints and admire it. The wolf has the gray-and-white transparency checkerboard around it. The background is crudely thrown together like a cursed collage. @@.player;"This is going to be iconic."@@ @@.samantha;"That's the dream!"@@ Samantha replies cheerfully. <<elseif $d19op1poster is 1>>\ You jab a finger at the second option, the one with the Sierra Heights football team with baby heads and drool-covered jerseys. @@.player;"Baby's First Game. It's so stupid, I love it."@@ Samantha grins. @@.samantha;"Yes! I loved making it, I had to keep holding in my laugh so people wouldn't look at me weird."@@ She queues up the print job as she mumbles gleefully under her breath. As the printer starts churning out baby blue posters, you lean in to read one of the captions. "Please cheer quietly, our players are sleeping." @@.player;"Did you seriously add a pacifier watermark?"@@ you ask, snorting. @@.samantha;"I had a vision,"@@ Samantha says proudly. @@.samantha;"This is what peak graphic design looks like."@@ You stack the prints, already imagining the look on the Sierra Heights team's faces when they see these plastered across their bus zone. @@.player;"You're gonna get us banned from every future game."@@ @@.samantha;"Worth it,"@@ she says, loading another batch of paper. @@.samantha;"History will remember us as visionaries."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Let's go for the 'Wolf Who?' one. Feels like the right kind of passive aggressive."@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"You would pick the shady one. Classic $name."@@ She clicks to print and stretches with a satisfied sigh. @@.samantha;"Sometimes, the best burns are the ones that sound polite."@@ You grab a copy as it slides out of a printer tray and laugh. @@.player;"I can't believe you did all this."@@ @@.samantha;"Well, I can't believe you're surprised,"@@ she says dryly. @@.samantha;"You've known me for how long?"@@ @@.player;"A while."@@ @@.samantha;"Then you should know better, bestie,"@@ she says, patting your shoulder. @@.samantha;"Now let's get going."@@ <</if>> <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation One 3">><</button>>

Samantha tears off another strip of tape with her teeth, then hangs the poster against the side of the concrete pillar in the parking zone. She's fast and methodical with it, making you wonder if she's done this before. Maybe not for school rivalries, but you don't doubt she's done it for whatever chaotic ventures she's gotten up to in the past. You're still holding a stack of prints, arms full of panther propaganda. The "art," if it can be called that, is goofy, but the intent is still clear: war. @@.player;"We're gonna run out of wall space before we run out of paper,"@@ you mutter, scanning for a clean spot. @@.samantha;"That's the goal, dude,"@@ Samantha says, sticking another poster to a low-hanging metal sign. @@.samantha;"This needs to be super visible. Like, they step off that bus, and boom. Psychological damage."@@ You raise a brow. @@.player;"We're really leaning into the psychological warfare angle here, huh?"@@ @@.samantha;"Hey, we can't do anything during the game itself, so this is the next best thing,"@@ she says, shrugging with mock innocence. You chuckle, then glance around the lot. You're working fast, taping one up every few steps. You space them along fences, walls, even the back of a trash can. There's no mistaking what school these posters are rooting for, or who they're mocking. Samantha finishes placing one of the low wall on the bus loops and steps back to admire it. @@.samantha;"You know, this is probably the most school spirit I've ever shown in my life."@@ @@.player;"Really?"@@ you ask, pressing down the top edge of a poster on a signpost. @@.samantha;"Yeah. Usually I just wear black and complain,"@@ she says, tossing you the tape roll. @@.samantha;"But today feels fun. I don't know why. Maybe I'm getting soft."@@ @@.player;"You? Soft?"@@ you ask, eyeing her skeptically. @@.player;"What's next, cheer tryouts?"@@ @@.samantha;"Let's not get insane, $name,"@@ she says, scoffing. @@.samantha;"I like to scream from the sidelines and talk shit, not do backflips."@@ Samantha finishes putting the last poster high up, stuck with a leap and stretch that ends with a triumphant @@.samantha;"Ha!"@@ Just as you're brushing your hands off and admiring the full scope of your work, Samantha's head suddenly snaps toward the road. @@.samantha;"Wait. Bus might be here early,"@@ she says. You follow her gaze. A large vehicle is cresting the hill down the street, still a good distance off—but the shape and color scheme are unmistakable. @@.samantha;"Quick,"@@ she hisses. @@.samantha;"Bushes. Now."@@ @@.player;"Bushes?"@@ you echo. She grabs your wrist. @@.samantha;"Don't ask. Just trust."@@ Before you can reply, she's dragging you toward a patch of tall hedges by the parking lot's edge. You stumble into the leaves, crouching beside her in the dim shade as the faint rumble of the approaching engine grows louder. Beside you, Samantha's eyes are practically gleaming. @@.samantha;"Get ready to watch the art of war in action."@@ <<button "Watch them" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation One 4">><</button>>

The bus screeches slightly as it pulls into the parking space, its hulking frame crawling forward. The engine lets out a low grumble as it slows to a stop then idles, exhaust huffing into the air. You and Samantha are crouched low behind the row of overgrown bushes, branches tickling your ears and leaves brushing your cheeks. She peers through a gap in the hedge like a spy on a secret mission. A hiss, then the creak of hydraulic doors swinging open. One by one, the Sierra Heights Wolves begin to hop off the bus. They're big, with wide shoulders, boxy faces, and big arms. They fan out in loose clumps, stretching, yawning, and jostling each other as they glance around. Then one of them sees a poster. @@.boy;"Yo,"@@ a tall guy near the back says, pointing at the concrete wall. @@.boy;"What the hell is that?"@@ Another player follows his finger and immediately cracks up. @@.boy;"Oh my God. Bro. Bro."@@ He smacks the nearest teammate on the back. @@.boy;"You see this?!"@@ Everyone goes to look at the poster you chose. @@.boy;"Bro, that is fucked up,"@@ someone laughs. @@.boy;"But it is kinda fire,"@@ another chimes in, already pulling out his phone to snap a picture. A third guy walks up, squints at the print, then yanks it clean off the wall. @@.boy;"I'm taking this. This is going in my locker."@@ @@.boy;"You're gonna hang up our own slander?"@@ one of his teammates asks, snorting. @@.boy;"Absolutely. It's funny as hell."@@ You watch from your hiding spot as the Wolves point, laugh, and call out to others still climbing off the bus. Some take selfies with them. One jokingly pretends to shrink away from it in fear, hands held up in mock surrender as his friends double over in laughter. Samantha doesn't move. Her eyes are narrowed, watching with the wary intensity of a general assessing a battle plan that may or may not have backfired. When the crowd starts to migrate toward the stadium entrance, still chuckling and buzzing with energy, she leans back, brushing leaves from her hoodie. @@.samantha;"Huh,"@@ she says. You glance at her. @@.player;"That wasn't the reaction I was expecting."@@ @@.samantha;"Nope."@@ She crosses her arms over her knees. @@.samantha;"They're laughing at it. That means they're not scared. Or, they're playing it off."@@ @@.player;"Playing it off?"@@ you echo. She tilts her head. @@.samantha;"Yeah. I mean, c'mon now. What else would you do if you were publicly mocked in enemy territory? You either laugh or you look weak."@@ @@.player;"So you're saying they're actually terrified."@@ @@.samantha;"Exactly, $name."@@ The two of you crouch there for a second longer, silent as the bus engine finally shuts off and the last players disappear down the tunnel. The wind rustles the remaining posters just slightly, and somewhere behind you, a bird caws in the distance. Samantha exhales deeply and mutters, @@.samantha;"I hope they trip over their shoelaces,"@@ under her breath. You stifle a laugh. Mission accomplished. Probably. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 2">><</button>>

@@.player;"The locker room one,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That's what I want to go for."@@ Samantha's eyes light up instantly. @@.samantha;"Excellent choice,"@@ she says with a dramatic nod. @@.samantha;"Okay, here's the plan: the Sierra Heights Wolves will use the visiting locker room. I have a key. Don't ask how I got it."@@ @@.player;"How'd you get it?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"Focus,"@@ she snaps playfully. @@.samantha;"We don't have a ton of time before the Wolves show up. Only, like, thirty minutes. That's enough time to plant the signs and vanish like smoke."@@ She unzips her backpack again, taking out a folder with a bunch of paper in it. Some are cute. One has a cartoony panther giving a thumbs-up with the words "Thanks for the win in advance!" written below. Others are a LOT meaner. One says "YOUR COACH ALREADY GAVE UP" with panther claw marks on their mascot. You spot one particularly intense design featuring a scoreboard reading 56-0, with a crying wolf beneath it. @@.samantha;"Okay, strategist,"@@ Samantha says, waving the papers in your face. @@.samantha;"What's the tone? Are we playing it cute? Or are we going full war crime?"@@ You look at the stack of paper. There's definitely a spectrum here. Some are just lighthearted teasing while others might give Sierra Heights psychological trauma. Samantha's waiting for an answer, her eyes glinting with that same dangerous glee she always gets right before a prank. <<button "Be evil" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation Three 2">>\<<set $d19op3evil to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_op3_prank" "evil" "story">><</button>> <<button "Be nice" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation Three 2">>\<<set $d19op3evil to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_op3_prank" "nice" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d19op3evil is true>>\ @@.player;"Let's be mean,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's more fun."@@ Samantha grins like a cartoon villain. @@.samantha;"Yesss, welcome to the dark side, $name,"@@ she hisses with delight. You give her an exasperated look. @@.player;"You've been waiting for this moment your whole life, haven't you?"@@ @@.samantha;"Pretty much,"@@ she says, plucking the uglier stacks of signs from her folder. She splits them in half then slides them into your hands. @@.samantha;"You're gonna love it. They're so savage."@@ You both slip through the side doors of the football building and creep into the visiting locker room. It smells like bleach, faint sweat, and mop water. Not exactly great. The overhead lights are off, but just enough sunlight filters through the high frosted windows to see by. Lockers line the walls, most of them closed, their surfaces scratched and dented from seasons of visiting teams passing through. Samantha hands you a roll of tape. @@.samantha;"You take the left. Tape it up good. I want their self-esteem to rattle."@@ You raise an eyebrow, but start toward your side of the room. The first sheet you look at is a mock newspaper headline: "SIERRA HEIGHTS FORFEITS AFTER REALIZING THEY'RE BAD. Experts confirm that the Pacific Crest Panthers are actually built different." You let out a quiet chuckle and tape it right at eye level. The next one is a fake Instagram post showing the Sierra Heights wolf mascot tripping over its own shoelaces. The caption: "Y'all good??? —@PacificCrestOfficial" Another one looks like an inspirational quote, but is actually an insult: "You miss 100% of the shots you take if you're from Sierra Heights." Samantha's muttering curses at tape across the room while slapping up a sign that just reads: "This locker room brought to you by: Panther Domination™." You catch one that's so stupid that you can't help but laugh: "NEW STUDY FINDS THAT THE WOLVES HAVE NO OPPOSABLE THUMBS, NO WINS, AND NO HOPE." @@.player;"Okay, this one's iconic,"@@ you say, and Samantha cackles approvingly. The whole things feels unhinged yet oddly satisfying. You glance at each locker as you finish, imagining the annoyed faces that will greet these messages. It's chaos, sure. But it's not //too// bad. You slap your final poster in the center of the last locker and admire your handiwork. Samantha appears at your side, arms crossed smugly as she surveys what you two have created. @@.samantha;"God, I love team spirit."@@ @@.player;"Technically, this might be illegal,"@@ you mutter. @@.samantha;"Technically, so is jaywalking. And I do that all the time."@@ You both smirk. @@.samantha;"Now, let's disappear,"@@ she says. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Let's be nice,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I think the mean ones would piss them off."@@ Samantha sighs, dramatic as always. @@.samantha;"A little lame, but alright,"@@ she says, plucking the cuter stacks of signs from her folder. She splits them in half, then slides them into your hands. @@.samantha;"We'll go with the feel-good propaganda, I guess. You've got a soft heart, $name. It's gross."@@ You roll your eyes, but the truth is, you don't really want to make enemies tonight. Just a little fun, nothing cruel. The Wolves can handle some Pacific Crest school spirit without needing therapy afterward. You both slip through the side doors of the football building and creep into the visiting locker room. It smells like bleach, faint sweat, and mop water. Not exactly great. The overhead lights are off, but just enough sunlight filters through the high frosted windows to see by. Lockers line the walls, most of them closed, their surfaces scratched and dented from seasons of visiting teams passing through. Samantha pulls a roll of tape from her pocket, tears off a piece with her teeth, and slaps the first sign on the back of the door: a cartoon of a panther smiling with the caption: "Thx for the win <3 Pacific Crest." @@.samantha;"Here."@@ She hands you the tape. @@.samantha;"Divide and conquer. Let's show these wolves the power of passive-aggressiveness."@@ You grin and get to work, starting at the row of lockers on the left. You peel off strips of tape and post the signs on the metal doors. Each one makes you smile. One has a cute chibi panther-girl holding a bouquet of flowers, saying: "Good luck tonight! But not too much!" Another poster shows a scoreboard, 21-17 in favor of Pacific Crest, with the caption: "Just an example! Manifestation is key!" You stick that one right in the center of a locker and step back to admire it. A third one reads: "Remember: It's not whether you win or lose... it's whether you get absolutely obliterated by the Panthers." From across the room, you hear Samantha snort. @@.samantha;"That one's funny,"@@ she mutters. You slap on another one with cheerful bubble letters: "Believe in yourselves! Just maybe... less than us." Locker by locker, the room transforms into a weird shrine of supportive (but slightly smug) Panther energy. It'd make you laugh if you saw it in your locker. It's enough sass to feel challenged, but sweet enough not to make anyone angry. Eventually, Samantha straightens up and takes a look around. @@.samantha;"Okay, this is weirdly wholesome,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"I feel like we just complimented them into submission."@@ @@.player;"Better than starting a brawl."@@ @@.samantha;"Debatable,"@@ she replies with a wink. <</if>>\ <<button "Watch their reactions" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation Three 3">><</button>>

You and Samantha duck behind the wall just across from the locker room's side entrance, crouching low. It's not exactly comfortable, but it lets you hear everything. Samantha adjusts her position. brushing a strand of hair out of her face. @@.samantha;"We good?"@@ she whispers. @@.player;"Close enough,"@@ you respond, nodding. From where you're hidden, you can see the Sierra Heights Wolves start filing in. They're tall, bulky guys in matching varsity jackets and sneakers. Their voices bounce off the walls of the concrete tunnel, loud and casual. <<if $d19op3evil is true>>\ @@.boy;"Woah. What the hell is this?"@@ The first voice is loud and sharp with confusion. You exchange a glance with Samantha and see that the beginning of a grin is curling at the edges of her mouth. More footsteps enter the room, and then come the voices. @@.boy;"Bro. Look at this."@@ A brief silence, and then someone starts reading out loud: @@.boy;"You've entered Panther Territory. Wipe your paws before you embarrass yourselves."@@ There's a pause before a guy says, @@.boy;"Whoever did this is fucking savage."@@ Laughter erupts as people clap their hands and let out low whistles. @@.boy;"These guys have too much time on their hands, man. I respect it."@@ Another voice adds, @@.boy;"They waged psychological warfare on us. Damn."@@ You can here the distinct crinkle of paper being peeled off a locker, followed by a short chuckle. @@.boy;"I'm keepin' this one."@@ Samantha nudges your ribs with the back of your hand, smug as hell. You glance over to see her absolutely beaming, trying not to burst into laughter. She leans over just enough to whisper, @@.samantha;"I told you I cooked with these."@@ @@.player;"They're not even mad,"@@ you whisper back. @@.samantha;"They don't have to be."@@ Back in the locker room, the chatter continues as the wolves keep reading off signs and bursting into laughter. @@.boy;"They got jokes. Gonna be real awkward when they lose tonight, though."@@ Samantha grabs your wrist and pulls you into a quiet jog, darting away from the locker room. You follow her, adrenaline still buzzing, barely able to hold back your laughter. @@.samantha;"Operation Three: Locker Room Loyalty Crisis has been executed flawlessly."@@ You grin back, heart racing. <<else>>\ The first guy to enter stops short. @@.boy;"Woah."@@ There's a pause. @@.boy;"Yo, what the hell is this?"@@ Another player laughs. @@.boy;"Dude, they're posters or something. Friendly, though."@@ A guy reads one aloud: @@.boy;"Win or lose, you've made it this far. Now don't trip in front of the Panthers."@@ @@.boy;"Okay, that's kinda funny,"@@ another admits. There's a ripple of amusement as they move deeper into the locker room, reading signs as they go. @@.boy;"Your mascot may be a wolf, but tonight you're underdog material. Make it count."@@ @@.boy;"That's savage,"@@ one guy laughs. @@.boy;"But respectfully so."@@ @@.boy;"Bro, these Pacific Crest people are unhinged. Who the hell has the time to come in and do all this?"@@ @@.boy;"Someone with too much school spirit,"@@ another answers. @@.boy;"I can't even be mad. They got jokes."@@ A deeper voice chimes in. @@.boy;"Now we have to win. Can't let them think we're gonna fold because of some arts and crafts."@@ That gets a round of cheers as they get fired up. @@.samantha;"I don't know if we just messed up or not,"@@ Samantha whispers. You smirk. @@.player;"Maybe they're just playing it off. Deep down, they're probably really scared."@@ @@.samantha;"Terrified of positive reinforcement."@@ And before you can say anything else, she grabs your wrist and pulls you up, both of you breaking into a quiet jog. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 2">><</button>>

@@.player;"The streamer one,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Let's go with that."@@ @@.samantha;"Excellent choice,"@@ she says, smirking. @@.samantha;"Operation Two: Streamers of Betrayal is a go."@@ She starts marching toward the back of the school, motioning for you to follow. @@.samantha;"Here's the deal. Both teams enter the same tunnel for their intro, right? And they decorate it with streamers and stuff to make it all festive or badass or whatever."@@ You nod, jogging to catch up with her. @@.player;"Yeah, I remember."@@ @@.samantha;"Well, I did some recon earlier,"@@ she continues, already digging into her backpack. @@.samantha;"Sierra Heights has red and silver streamers ready to pop out. But guess what?"@@ She stops, pulling out two large plastic bags filled with something. @@.samantha;"They prepare it early. Like, hours before the game. They just put it in the machine and don't check it until it blows out."@@ You blink. @@.player;"So..."@@ @@.samantha;"So, we're gonna sneak in and swap their streamers before anyone notices,"@@ Samantha says, wiggling her eyebrows. @@.samantha;"Subtle sabotage."@@ She tosses you the two Ziplatch bags. One is full of bold blue and black streamers, Pacific Crest's school colors. The other set is... horrific. A sickly brown-green, like dried vomit. You recoil instinctively. @@.player;"What //is// this?"@@ you ask. Samantha grins proudly. @@.samantha;"It is scientifically the world's ugliest color. It's called Pantone 448 C. They legit put it on cigarette packages to turn people off from smoking. No joke. I had to special-order it from an art supply store that thought I was running a psychological experiment."@@ You stare at the strips of papers. @@.player;"You might be."@@ @@.samantha;"Maybe I am,"@@ she says, shrugging. @@.samantha;"But I say, if we really wanna throw Sierra Heights off their game, we hit them where it hurts. Their aesthetic during their introduction."@@ She clasps her hands together. @@.samantha;"So, my honorable co-conspirator, what'll it be? School spirit domination with blue and black streamers or the existentially repulsive color warfare?"@@ <<button "Pacific Crest Colors" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation Two 2">>\<<set $d19op2streamer to true>>\<<trackChoice "D19_op2_streamers" "pacific crest" "story">><</button>> <<button "The ugliest color" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation Two 2">>\<<set $d19op2streamer to false>>\<<trackChoice "D19_op2_streamers" "ugly" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d19op2streamer is true>>\ You push the bag of hideous greenish-brown streamers back toward Samantha. @@.player;"Let's go with the Pacific Crest colors."@@ Samantha nods in approval. @@.samantha;"Good call. Our school colors are classic and elegant. Nothing will freak them out like running out of the tunnel just to get covered in our school's colors."@@ @@.player;"The world's ugliest color might be a bit much, even for Sierra Heights,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.samantha;"That's fair,"@@ she says with a smirk. @@.samantha;"You'd be haunted by that bile green for years. Might even show up in your nightmares."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, yeah,"@@ you mutter, rolling your eyes. @@.player;"Blue and black is still psychological warfare, but with class."@@ @@.samantha;"I like the way you think,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"We'll replace all the streamers in the machine with our colors. By the time they roll through that tunnel, it'll feel like they're already losing."@@ You cock an eyebrow. @@.player;"You think nobody's gonna notice us tampering with the machines there?"@@ @@.samantha;"Look, the beauty of this world is that no one ever knows who's in charge of things,"@@ Samantha says, whispering like she's sharing forbidden wisdom. @@.samantha;"Everyone just assumes it's someone else's problem. If we look confident and act like we belong there? Boom. Basically invisible."@@ @@.player;"That's actually a little scary."@@ @@.samantha;"Right?"@@ she says, taking the bag and gesturing for you to follow. @@.samantha;"C'mon, Panther conspirator. Let's turn that tunnel into a neon blue highway of humiliation."@@ With that, she strides off toward the field. Game on. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Let's go with the ugly one,"@@ you say, holding up the bag like it's a sack of radioactive waste. Samantha's face lights up. @@.samantha;"Oh yes. Excellent choice. Truly diabolical."@@ She reaches over and takes the bag from you with care. @@.samantha;"You know, I was worried you'd play it safe,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"But this is art. This is some avant-garde psychological warfare."@@ @@.player;"I feel we're going to be banned from future games,"@@ you say as you eye the ghastly green-brown strips. @@.samantha;"Not if we don't get caught!"@@ Samantha exclaims, not remotely concerned. @@.player;"How would we //not// get noticed?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"Look, the beauty of this world is that no one ever knows who's in charge of things,"@@ Samantha says, whispering like she's sharing forbidden wisdom. @@.samantha;"Everyone just assumes it's someone else's problem. If we look confident and act like we belong there? Boom. Basically invisible."@@ @@.player;"That's actually a little scary."@@ @@.samantha;"Right?"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"C'mon, Panther conspirator. Let's turn that tunnel into a ugly brown highway of humiliation."@@ With that, she strides off toward the field. Game on. <</if>>\ <<button "Sabotage!" "Day 19 - Game Spectator Operation Two 3">><</button>>

The tunnel feels like a strange, sacred place this close to game time. The streamer machine rests near the end of the tunnel. It's built to be easy to use, as you can just swap out the streamer cartridges and be good to go. It's probably been here for decades. Samantha crouches low beside the base of the machine, unzipping her backpack carefully. @@.samantha;"Okay,"@@ she whispers. @@.samantha;"You stand watch."@@ You glance nervously toward the ends of the tunnel while she starts fiddling with the side panel of the unit. There's a sharp click as she pops it open, revealing the streamer cartridges inside. One is filled with blue and black, while the other is Sierra Heights red and silver. Samantha winces. @@.samantha;"These have got to go."@@ She pulls the rolls out one by one, stuffing them into her backpack. Then, with a gleeful grin, she pulls out the replacements. They look completely out of place, but that's the point. You can't help but laugh as she jams them into the machine. @@.player;"You think anyone's gonna notice before it's too late?"@@ <<if $d19op2streamer is true>>\ @@.samantha;"Nah, I doubt it,"@@ she says, eyes glittering. @@.samantha;"They'll be running out then get bathed with our colors."@@ <<else>>\ @@.samantha;"Nah, I doubt it,"@@ she says, eyes glittering. @@.samantha;"They'll be running out then get bathed with these ugly streamers."@@ <</if>>\ She pauses, closing the Ziplatch bag. @@.samantha;"There. Locked and loaded."@@ She closes with a soft thunk and stands, brushing dust off her knees with a little flourish. @@.samantha;"And now, my dear $name, we vanish. Like ghosts. Mischievous, morally ambiguous ghosts."@@ You both jog off into the shadows of the tunnel, footsteps echoing lightly. Samantha's face is glowing like she just committed a perfect heist. @@.samantha;"One machine, zero alarms,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Catch us if you can, Sierra Heights."@@ Neither of you look back. The trap is set. <<button "Continue" "Day 19 - Game Spectator 2">><</button>>

You walk across the gym, weaving through clusters of swaying couples and awkward duos until the dance floor gives way to the empty stretch of bleachers. Aurora is there, perched on the second row, legs crossed, arms resting on her knees. Her chin is tilted up as she gazes out over the crowd, eyes half-lidded in something that almost looks like nostalgia. She doesn't turn as you approach, but she must hear you. There's no way she doesn't. Still, you settle beside her slowly, leaving a respectful bit of space between your thighs and hers. For a second, neither of you speak. The music swells in the background, a slow ballad. It's a bit corny, sure, but tender in its own way. Below you, silhouettes spin, laugh, and drift. The world feels suspended. Finally, you glance over. @@.player;"You look like a ghost watching the living."@@ Aurora huffs softly. @@.aurora;"Fitting."@@ @@.player;"They're playing our song, you know,"@@ you say, smirking. That earns you a side-eye. @@.aurora;"If this is your idea of flirting, it needs work."@@ @@.player;"Who says I'm flirting?"@@ you ask, lightly bumping your shoulder against hers. @@.aurora;"Please,"@@ she mutters. @@.aurora;"Your aura's glowing."@@ @@.player;"Pretty sure that's the glowstick I stole."@@ That almost earns a smile. You let the silence settle again. This close, you can see how carefully she holds herself. How worried she is to relax, even for a second. She's just alone. And maybe a little sad. You look down at the gym floor. Then back at her. @@.player;"Dance with me?"@@ Aurora's gaze flicks to yours instantly, eyes wide. @@.aurora;"What?"@@ You nod toward the couples below. @@.player;"You. Me. One slow dance. Nothing fancy."@@ Her brow furrows. @@.aurora;"You're serious."@@ @@.player;"Deadly.@@ She snorts despite herself, but her arms cross tighter over her chest. @@.aurora;"I can't."@@ @@.player;"You can't, or you won't?"@@ Aurora turns her gaze back to the crowd. @@.aurora;"I'm off duty, sure. But if something happens..."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Off duty?"@@ She shrugs. @@.aurora;"You wouldn't understand."@@ @@.player;"Try me,"@@ you state, raising an eyebrow. She's quiet for a moment, then sighs. @@.aurora;"Let's just say... there's more to the world than meets the eye. A lot of energy, a lot of evil. I have to monitor. I ''have'' to watch for—"@@ She cuts herself off, eyes narrowing. @@.aurora;"Anyway. I shouldn't."@@ @@.player;"But you want to tell someone,"@@ you say softly. She doesn't deny it. You glance at her hand, resting on her thigh. Dark fingers, black nail polish. She follows your gaze and quickly tucks her hands under her arms like she's hiding them. You lean forward, voice gentler. @@.player;"You're allowed to want things, you know."@@ @@.aurora;"You're persistent,"@@ Aurora says, sighing again. @@.player;"And you, Ms. Rowan, are stalling."@@ She side-eyes you. @@.aurora;"I'm protecting you."@@ @@.player;"...From what?"@@ you whisper. Her gaze drops to the dance floor again. @@.aurora;"From what I am."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"You're just a girl at a dance who deserves to have a little fun."@@ Aurora's jaw tightens, but her shoulders lower slightly. You can tell she wants to say yes. Maybe she even //needs// someone to give her permission to. You offer your hand slowly, palm up. She stares at it. And then, still not moving, she murmurs, @@.aurora;"Convince me."@@ <<button "You're allowed to take one night off. No magic or expectations" "Day 20 - Aurora Dance 2">>\<<set $d20auroradance to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_aurora_convince" "You're allowed to take one night off. No magic or expectations" "story">><</button>> <<button "Don't overthink it. It's just a silly dance" "Day 20 - Aurora Dance 2">>\<<set $d20auroradance to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_aurora_convince" "Don't overthink it. It's just a silly dance" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20auroradance is true>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $auroraRomance to Math.clamp($auroraRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Aurora doesn't look at you right away. Her eyes are on the floor, watching the gym lights flicker across the polished surface. Maybe she made up her mind. Maybe nothing you can say will change that. But you decide to try, just for the hell of it. @@.player;"You're allowed to take one night off,"@@ you sya. @@.player;"No magic. No expectations. Just be here. With me."@@ There's a subtle but real shift. She blinks, slowly, like your words have broken some quiet trance. She turns to you, and while you can't quite read her expression, you can tell she's thinking. @@.aurora;"No expectations?"@@ she repeats after a while, almost as if she's testing the words. @@.aurora;"Even if I trip over your feet?"@@ @@.player;"Oh, especially if you trip over my feet,"@@ you say, huffing a laugh. Aurora exhales through her nose, the closest she'll get to a real laugh. Then, after a beat, she lifts her hand and places it gently in yours. Her palm is warm. @@.aurora;"You're lucky I like you, $name,"@@ she murmurs. @@.player;"I'm honored,"@@ you say, standing with her and helping her to her feet. Together, you head toward the dance floor, her hand still tucked carefully in yours. The lights swirl above, the music is soft, and the melody wraps itself around you. And for once, Aurora walks with you not like she's cloaked in mystery or shadows but like she's just a girl at a dance, choosing to be seen. <<button "Dance with Aurora" "Day 20 - Aurora Dance 3">><</button>> <<elseif $d20auroradance is false>>\ You glance over at her, her silhouette outlined in the soft gymnasium lights. Aurora sits quiet beside you, her bracelets catching the faint shimmer of the decorations around the bleachers. Her fingers are clutched tightly in her lap, like she's holding something back, and maybe she is. Maybe it's nerves. Maybe it's more. You offer a small smile, trying to keep it easy. @@.player;"Don't overthink it,"@@ you say gently, nudging her shoulder. @@.player;"It's just a silly dance."@@ Aurora blinks, her head slowly turning toward you. Her expression doesn't twist in offense or anything quite so clear. But it does kind of flatten. The little spark in her eyes, the one you'd seen earlier during the magic show when she actually laughed, dims just slightly. @@.aurora;"I know,"@@ she says softly. Her voice is calm, but distant in a way that makes your stomach twist. @@.aurora;"Still. I can't."@@ You open your mouth to say something, maybe to press a little more, but the silence that follows is thick and final. She doesn't look away, but she doesn't elaborate. The door you didn't know was open has quietly closed again. You meant it as reassurance, but it came off differently to her. After a moment, she speaks again, barely above a whisper. @@.aurora;"You shouldn't have chosen me."@@ Her words are cruel, but only to herself. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 16">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $auroraRomance to Math.clamp($auroraRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ The moment Aurora steps into the dance floor with you, it feels like the whole world narrows in. The chatter of the crowd fades. The lights strung along the gym rafters seem to soften, casting everything in a muted, dreamlike glow. A slow, mellow beat hums through the speakers. It's not dramatic or grand or anything, but it is smooth and swaying. Perfect for a moment like this. You guide her gently into place, one hand finding her back, the other still holding her hand. She's still at first. Her body's uncertain and it's as if she's just waiting for the ball to drop, like someone's going to point and laugh or the lights will flicker and reveal a trapdoor beneath her feet. But then you catch her eye, and offer the smallest of smiles. @@.player;"You know,"@@ you murmur, @@.player;"for someone who wields actual magic, you're surprisingly afraid of Homecoming night slow dancing."@@ She squints at you. @@.aurora;"I'm not afraid,"@@ she says, chin lifting. @@.aurora;"I'm calculating risk."@@ @@.player;"Oh?"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"What kind of risk is involved in dancing with me? Am I that dangerous?"@@ @@.aurora;"You might be,"@@ she says. Her tone is deadpan, but there's a spark behind her eyes. @@.aurora;"Emotionally."@@ That gets a laugh out of you. @@.player;"You wound me, dark sorceress."@@ Aurora finally, finally smiles. A real goddamn smile. Not the sly half-smirk she gives when she's messing with people, not the polite ghost of one she wears when she's pretending to be mysterious. A real, full, amused smile that lights up her whole face and makes your heart skip a little beat. @@.aurora;"You are such a dork,"@@ she says fondly. You lean in a little, teasing. @@.player;"And yet, here you are, slow dancing with me."@@ Her lips press together in mock irritation, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she sways with you, falling into step with surprising ease. Her hand in yours is lighter now, looser. Her other hand shifts from your shoulder to the side of your neck, fingertips brushing your skin like she's testing how close she can get without fully giving in. The two of you move slowly across the gym floor, bodies close but still just shy of pressing together. She smells like flowers and old books and something a little bit earthy, like petrichor after a storm. It suits her. @@.aurora;"Don't tell anyone,"@@ she murmurs near your ear, @@.aurora;"but this is... kind of nice."@@ @@.player;"Scandalous,"@@ you whisper back. @@.player;"I thought you only communed with ghosts and moonlight."@@ @@.aurora;"Maybe I do,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"But sometimes, even witches need a dance break."@@ You grin. @@.player;"I knew you had a fun side."@@ @@.aurora;"You're just lucky you're seeing it,"@@ she says, humming. @@.aurora;"I haven't even hexed you once tonight."@@ @@.player;"Only because you like me."@@ @@.aurora;"I haven't decided yet."@@ @@.player;"Oh, you've definitely decided."@@ She bites her lower lip to suppress a grin. @@.aurora;"Don't get cocky, $name."@@ Another spin, another breath shared too close, and you feel her fully relax into you. Her head tilts slightly toward your shoulder, her steps syncing perfectly with yours now. There's something about the way she leans into you that's less guarded. She's not Aurora the Mysterious Witch, not the spectral girl haunting the hallways, or anything like that. Right now, she's just a girl at Homecoming, dancing with someone who made her feel real. @@.aurora;"You know, if you try and dip me, I'm turning your shoes into Jello,"@@ she murmurs suddenly. @@.player;"Got it,"@@ you reply solemnly. @@.player;"No dips. No twirls. Minimal flair. You're here for the vibe."@@ @@.aurora;"And because you asked,"@@ she adds. You glance down at her. @@.player;"And that was enough?"@@ Aurora meets your eyes. @@.aurora;"Yeah. It was."@@ You don't say anything for a moment, just hold her a little closer, letting the music fill the space between your bodies. Neither of you are flawless dancers. She accidentally steps on your foot once, and you nearly bump into another couple trying to twirl. But it doesn't matter. Because when she laughs, head tilted back and eyes crinkled, you realize something. You made Aurora laugh. At Homecoming. On the dance floor. And it might just be the best magic you've ever seen. <<button "What a dance" "Day 20 - Aurora Dance 4">><</button>>

The final notes of the song drifts into the air and the lights on the dance floor shift to a low, hazy glow. Around you, other couples with murmured words and light laughter, but you and Aurora remain close, barely any space between. Her eyes are still on yours, half-lidded and warm with something you don't often see from her. Vulnerability, maybe. Or something softer. Her hands, which had found their way naturally around your neck, don't pull back right away. She lingers. And then, gently, she says, @@.aurora;"Thank you."@@ The word surprises you, not because you don't think she means it, but because it's so rare to hear it from her. She says it like it costs something, like it's not something she gives away lightly. You blink. @@.player;"Shouldn't I be thanking you? I mean, you said yes."@@ Aurora shakes her head. There's a small smile tugging at her lips, not sly or teasing this time, but honest. Her voice is low, barely even audible, yet you catch every word. @@.aurora;"No. You don't get it,"@@ she says, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. @@.aurora;"You don't know hard it is to just... be like this. With people. To laugh and not wonder if I'm being weird. To dance without second-guessing every step. I don't get nights like this, $name."@@ Her gaze drops for a second, almost like she's embarrassed by her own words. You watch her shoulders rise and fall with a quiet breath. @@.aurora;"I've spent so long trying to keep this version of me locked away. The part that gets excited about silly magic tricks or slow dances or even talking to people who aren't ghosts,"@@ she admits. @@.aurora;"But you made it feel okay. You didn't treat me like some creepy witch, even though you could've You didn't make it weird."@@ You smile gently, but she presses on. @@.aurora;"I wouldn't have loosened up tonight if it weren't for you. So yeah, thank you. Really."@@ You don't know what to say for a second. But before you can even try, she adds something quietly: @@.aurora;"I'll tell you more tomorrow. About everything. I promise. I just... tonight, I couldn't do it. I couldn't carry that weight and also try to be a person for once."@@ Her voice catches slightly on that last part, and she quickly smooths it over with a breath. @@.aurora;"I'm sorry I haven't been able to help you as much as I wanted to. I know you've got questions. I know you deserve more answers. But I needed this."@@ She smiles again, softer now, like she's peeling back another hidden layer. @@.aurora;"So thank you for giving me this night. For letting me be someone who gets to dance."@@ The music changes to something louder, something pulsing and playful, and the crowd around you starts moving again. But you and Aurora remain in your little bubble for just a moment longer. <<button "Then I'll give you a thousand more nights like this" "Day 20 - Aurora Dance 5">>\<<set $d20auroradance1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_aurora_end" "Then I'll give you a thousand more nights like this" "story">><</button>> <<button "You don't owe me anything. I'm just glad you got to be you" "Day 20 - Aurora Dance 5">>\<<set $d20auroradance1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_aurora_end" "You don't owe me anything. I'm just glad you got to be you" "story">><</button>> <<button "Tomorrow, huh? Guess I'll hold you to that" "Day 20 - Aurora Dance 5">>\<<set $d20auroradance1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_aurora_end" "Tomorrow, huh? Guess I'll hold you to that" "story">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D20homecomingAurora">>\ <<if $d20auroradance1 is 0>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $auroraRomance to Math.clamp($auroraRomance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ Aurora's lips part, the breath catching just barely in her throat at your words. @@.player;"Then I'll give you a thousand more nights like this,"@@ you say, your voice low and sure, laced with a kind of teasing confidence you didn't even know you had. The words are bold, definitely flirty, but you mean every syllable. And the way you look at her when you say it, head tilted slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth? It's unmistakable. Aurora blinks at you, momentarily stunned, like you just short-circuited her entire brain. Her lips twitch upward before she turns her head slightly, as if trying to hide the way her cheeks bloom. @@.aurora;"A thousand, huh?"@@ she says finally, raising an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"That's quite the offer, $name."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Limited time only. Offer expires never."@@ That earns a laugh, one that's short and breathy and not guarded. She gives you a playful look then, one that's far from the cold mystique she's known for. This is Aurora being Aurora. @@.aurora;"Well,"@@ she says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, @@.aurora;"as tempting as that sounds, I have to warn you: I'm terrible at dancing, I disappear without notice, and I have a habit of accidentally summoning little creatures when I get emotional."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Sounds like my type."@@ She smirks at that. The space is small, and neither of you moves to fill it with anything but closeness. @@.aurora;"Then maybe,"@@ she says, more softly now. @@.aurora;"I'll let you give me... one more night. Just to start."@@ Your heart does a little flip at that, and you pretend not to notice the way her hand drifts a little closer to yours. Not quite touching. Not yet. But close enough to feel. A burst of laughter from the crowd reminds you you're not alone, that the dance floor is still swaying with life and glitter and noise. Yet, all you can see is her. @@.aurora;"Come on,"@@ Aurora says suddenly, her voice lighter, mischief dancing on her tongue. @@.aurora;"If I'm getting a thousand nights, you better not waste any of them standing still."@@ And with that, she nudges you gently toward the edge of the crowd. Her fingers brush yours just briefly, and you can't tell if it's intentional or not. <<elseif $d20auroradance1 is 1>>\ @@.player;"You don't owe me anything,"@@ you say, voice gentle but steady. The music is still fading around you, but your focus is only on her. @@.player;"I'm just glad you got to be you. Even just for a little bit."@@ Her lips part as if she's about to respond immediately, but nothing really comes out at first. Nothing really can. There's two beats where she simply looks at you. Really looks at you. Not like she's searching for hidden meanings or keeping her distance like usual, but just being present. Human. Maybe even a little moved. @@.aurora;"That's..."@@ she starts, then trails off, shaking her head. @@.aurora;"That's kind of the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a while."@@ You offer a small, lopsided smile. @@.player;"You deserve to hear it more."@@ She huffs an embarrassed laugh and glances down at her shoes. @@.aurora;"You're gonna make me feel feelings, $name. That's dangerous territory."@@ @@.player;"Didn't we survive Madame Serena's $referto and a magic lesson in the woods? We'll be fine."@@ That gets a genuine smile from her. It starts small, but spreads quickly, tugging at the corners of her lips until her whole face lights up in that way she usually keeps under lock and key. @@.aurora;"You're ridiculous,"@@ she murmurs, shaking her head. @@.player;"And yet you danced with me,"@@ you counter. Her eyes roll, but there's no real heat behind it. @@.aurora;"Don't remind me. I have a reputation to maintain."@@ You both chuckle, standing there in the aftermath of the music, the last notes of the slow song still echoing faintly. @@.aurora;"The nudge really helped, $name,"@@ Aurora says, quiet and sincere. @@.aurora;"It's good to hear you don't expect me to be anything other than who I am."@@ You nod, trying to act nonchalant. @@.player;"Anytime."@@ There's a comfortable silence between you after that. No pressure, no mystery. Just two people standing at the edge of the dance floor, hearts a little lighter than before. Aurora breaks the stillness with a playful nudge of her elbow. @@.aurora;"Alright, let's get out of here before someone starts a conga line and tries to rope me into it."@@ You laugh, and together, you step away from the dance floor. <<elseif $d20auroradance1 is 2>>\ @@.player;"Tomorrow, huh?"@@ you murmur, eyes still on her as the music fades. @@.player;"Guess I'll hold you to that."@@ Aurora's smile lingers for a moment, but then something shifts in her expression. It softens in a thoughtful way you haven't seen much before. Like the weight of the world just reminded her it's still sitting on her shoulders. She exhales slowly through her nose and looks down at your hands still loosely linked between you. @@.aurora;"Yeah... tomorrow."@@ Something about the way she says it makes your brow furrow. @@.player;"You okay?"@@ @@.aurora;"I'm fine,"@@ she says quickly, too quickly. She meets your gaze again, and her smile returns, this time thinner. @@.aurora;"It's just... I really am on duty tomorrow."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You keep mentioning this duty. What even //is// it?"@@ She hesitates before sighing. It's the kind of sigh that suggests she's already said too much but knows she can't take it back. @@.aurora;"There's something I need to show you,"@@ she says, voice low. @@.aurora;"Stuff you need to see. I've put it off long enough. But tonight was for us. For being normal. Tomorrow..."@@ She trails off. Your curiosity spikes, knitting your brows together. @@.player;"Wait, what kind of stuff? Like magic stuff? Or is this about how I'm really good at magic for whatever reason? Should I be practicing? I'll be honest, I haven't practiced magic since we last—"@@ She lets out a soft laugh, then gently lifts a finger to your lips. @@.aurora;"Shh,"@@ she says, voice just above a whisper. Her fingertip lingers, light and cool, and it makes your breath catch for a beat. @@.aurora;"Tomorrow."@@ Your lips press together under her touch, more amused than silenced. The mysterious glint in her eye returns for just a second, but there's a tenderness beneath it as well. One that says she really meant what she said earlier: that tonight mattered. She lowers her hand and takes a small step back. @@.aurora;"Now come on,"@@ she says, nodding toward the edge of the dance floor. @@.aurora;"Before the DJ plays another slow song and I have to pretend I know how to waltz."@@ You grin and offer your arm like some kind of overconfident knight. @@.player;"For you."@@ Aurora snorts. @@.aurora;"Absolutely not,"@@ she says, but she loops her arm through yours anyway. Together, you leave the fading warmth of the dance floor, the twinkling lights spinning behind you. Tomorrow looms ahead, heavy with questions and revelations, but as for tonight... tonight, you got to see her smile. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 16">><</button>>

<<if $transgender > 14 and $acceptance > 19>>\ You spot Jessica leaning against the far wall of the gym, one heel dangling from her fingers, the other already kicked off and forgotten on the floor. She's sipping something bright and fizzy from a red plastic cup, her expression caught somewhere between tired and content. She notices you before you speak, one eyebrow rising with a lazy sort of amusement. @@.jessica;"Back from the dance mob, huh?"@@ she says, taking a small sip from her cup. @@.jessica;"You looked like you were having fun."@@ You grin. @@.player;"The secret is to commit. No matter how stupid it feels."@@ @@.jessica;"I'll keep that in mind,"@@ Jessica says with a soft laugh. You take a step closer, your heart picking up. The moment is slow yet full of possibility, just enough of a lull to make asking not seem like a stupid idea. You clear your throat, then smile. @@.player;"So... you wanna dance?"@@ You try and keep it casual, but you feel the weight in the air the moment you say it. <<if $jessicaRomance > 14>>\ Jessica blinks once. Then her lips curl upward into a smile that's half mischief, half something far softer. Her cheeks tint slightly, just a hint of pink, and before you can even second-guess yourself, she's already reaching out and setting her cup down on the table behind her. @@.jessica;"You're lucky I was hoping you'd ask,"@@ she says, voice light but sincere. She slips her heels on then holds out her hand to you, confident yet just a little bit shy. @@.jessica;"Let's go."@@ Your breath catches. You take her hand. It's smaller than yours, but her grip is sure, and there's something weirdly steadying in it. It's like she's been waiting for this, like she's maybe been waiting for you. Jessica leads the way through the crowd with an ease that comes from living in the center of it. But for once, she doesn't look like she's performing for anyone. She's just smiling at you, //only// you, and your heart feels a little lighter. And just like that, you're on the dance floor, her hand in yours, and the world narrows to the sound of music and the space between you. <<button "Dance" "Day 20 - Jessica Dance 3">><</button>> <<else>>\ Jessica's expression flickers for just a second. Like something passed behind her eyes, quick and sharp. She looks at you a moment longer, her gaze thoughtful. She doesn't say anything right away. Instead she studies your face. Not in a judgmental way. If anything, it feels careful and kind. Like she's looking for something she's already halfway sure of, but can't say out loud. @@.jessica;"You're not like the other guys,"@@ she says quietly, more to herself than to you. @@.jessica;"Not really."@@ That sentence hangs there for a beat too long. Then she shifts her weight, swirls the cup in her hand, and gives you a look you can't quite decipher. @@.jessica;"My answer, though? It depends,"@@ she says, voice light again. @@.jessica;"Convince me."@@ <<button "Let's just go for one song. I promise I won't step on your feet" "Day 20 - Jessica Dance 2">>\<<set $d20jessicadance to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_jessica_convince" true "story">><</button>> <<button "You don't have to dance with me, but you'd be missing out" "Day 20 - Jessica Dance 2">>\<<set $d20jessicadance to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_jessica_convince" false "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ You spot Jessica leaning against the far wall of the gym, one heel dangling from her fingers, the other already kicked off and forgotten on the floor. She's sipping something bright and fizzy from a red plastic cup, her expression caught somewhere between tired and content. You approach slowly, weaving past clusters of students and the fading echo of the last dance song. She doesn't notice you at first. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, offering a smile. @@.player;"Taking a break?"@@ Jessica looks up, a little surprised. But she recovers quickly. @@.jessica;"Hey, homeroom partner,"@@ she says, lifting her cup a little. @@.jessica;"Guess even queens need a breather."@@ You nod toward her feet. @@.player;"Heels finally lost the war?"@@ She laughs. @@.jessica;"They always do."@@ You lean against the wall beside her for a moment, watching the other students twirl and stumble through the middle of the gym, chasing music and memories they'll either cherish or cringe at. Then, you decide to rip the question. @@.player;"Wanna dance?"@@ you ask with a soft tilt of your head. There's something earnest behind the words. You don't expect much. Maybe a laugh or a sarcastic jab. Maybe a yes. You wouldn't mind a yes. But Jessica doesn't say anything. She turns her head slightly, eyes fixed on the crowd instead of you. Her lips part, then close again. @@.jessica;"That's sweet of you, $name,"@@ she says slowly. @@.jessica;"But I think I'm gonna sit this one out."@@ You raise your brows just slightly. @@.player;"Too many blisters?"@@ Another pause. She lets out a quiet breath and turns to meet your eyes. @@.jessica;"No. It's not that. I just..."@@ She glances away again, choosing her words like they might break in her mouth. @@.jessica;"I'm not really into dancing with..."@@ She trails off and doesn't bother to finish her sentence. @@.player;"Oh,"@@ you say, not quite understanding. She glances back at you quickly, gauging your reaction. There's a flicker of relief in her eyes when she sees you won't push. You offer a small smile. @@.player;"Fair enough."@@ Jessica exhales, and her shoulders ease just a little. @@.jessica;"Thanks for not making that weird,"@@ she says, voice barely above the music. @@.player;"Wouldn't dream of it."@@ @@.jessica;"You do clean up pretty well, though,"@@ she admits. @@.jessica;"I'll give you that."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Thanks. Guess I'll just have to moonwalk out of here solo."@@ @@.jessica;"God, please don't,"@@ she says, grinning. @@.jessica;"I don't think the gym floor could handle the power."@@ You give her a mock salute and take a step back. @@.player;"See you around, Jessica."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"See you, $name."@@ <</if>>\

<<if $d20jessicadance is true>>\ @@.player;"Let's just go for one song,"@@ you say, offering your hand. @@.player;"I promise I won't step on your feet. Probably."@@ Jessica raises a brow, lips curving into an amused smirk as she eyes your outstretched hand. @@.jessica;"Wow. Probably? That's a lot of confidence from someone wearing dress shoes for the first time in forever."@@ @@.player;"I'll have you know I've only stepped on my own feet twice tonight."@@ She snorts. @@.jessica;"Only twice? Impressive."@@ But then she hesitates. Her gaze drifts to your hand again, then your eyes, searching. Whatever she finds there must settle something, because the teasing fades just a little, replaced by something fonder. She slips her hand into yours. @@.jessica;"Alright, $name,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"One song."@@ She slips on her heels and you guide her toward the dance floor, her heels clicking on the gym floor. Her shoulders are relaxed, her hand steady in yours. Just two people and one dance. <<button "Dance" "Day 20 - Jessica Dance 3">><</button>> <<elseif $d20jessicadance is false>>\ @@.player;"You don't have to dance with me,"@@ you say, a little grin playing at your lips as you gesture toward the dance floor. @@.player;"But you'd be missing out."@@ It's meant to be light and teasing. Hell, maybe even confident. Something that Luke might say. The kind that turns a moment into a laugh, into a yes. But as soon as the words leave your mouth, you see the flicker in Jessica's expression. The way her smile falters just slightly, like you chose the wrong option in a video game. @@.jessica;"Cute,"@@ she says, and the word lands a little too carefully. @@.jessica;"But I think I'm gonna sit this one out."@@ You nod, trying to keep your face neutral. @@.player;"All good,"@@ you say, because what else is there to say? Jessica shifts her weight, and it's clear the moment has already passed. You don't push, instead just giving her a small, tight smile and a casual salute. Then you turn and walk off, the music growing louder with every step. <</if>>\

<<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ The lights dim just a little more, casting the gym in a soft, dreamy haze. The music slows, shifting into an easy song. The kind meant for quiet moments and close company. You and Jessica step into the crowd of couples. No one's really watching, as they're all caught up in their own little bubble. The space between you and her is barely a breath, and then she closes it. Her hands settle at your sides in a way that's familiar, almost instinctual. Your own arms lift. They're unsure at first, but her smile tells you you're doing fine. She starts to move, just a soft sway, and you follow. You're not leading, not really. You're just... with her. The way she moves and looks at you, it isn't the way someone dances with a guy in a suit. It's the way someone dances with someone they //see//. Jessica's eyes flick upward, meeting yours through the dim glow. Her hair shifts as she tilts her head slightly, voice low enough that you feel it more than you hear it. @@.jessica;"Y'know... I think you pulled this off."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Pulled what off?"@@ Her lips twitch into a smirk. @@.jessica;"The look. Your suit is... fine. But if I'm being honest?"@@ She leans in closer, breath brushing your ear as she whispers, warm and teasing: <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ @@.jessica;"You wore that cheer uniform better."@@ <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"I'd prefer to see you in a dress."@@ <</if>>\ Heat rushes up to your neck. Your mouth opens to respond, but nothing comes out at first. Jessica's already pulled back, wearing the most smug little smile. She doesn't say anything else, but she don't need to. You try to keep dancing like normal, but now your heartbeat is too loud, your thoughts too fast. She's still looking at you, but not just at your face. You feel like she's looking past it, like she sees something you haven't fully put together yourself yet. And it doesn't scare her. @@.jessica;"You're not bad at this,"@@ she murmurs, glancing down at your feet. @@.player;"Give me one more song and I'll be an expert,"@@ you say, grinning. She laughs softly. @@.jessica;"Dangerous words."@@ You feel seen, not for what the world thinks you should be, but for what you already are. <<button "What a dance" "Day 20 - Jessica Dance 4">><</button>>

The music fades, the last few moments feeling like the end of a dream. You and Jessica slowly stop moving, but neither of you quite step back. Not yet, at least. Her hands linger on your sides, your arms still gently looped behind her. For a second, you just look at each other. Then she lets out a soft breath, stepping back just enough to create space. Her cheeks are flushed, not from dancing, but from something else entirely. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, eyes darting away before coming back to yours, like she's trying to gather herself. @@.jessica;"...Wow,"@@ she says under her breath, almost like she didn't mean to say it out loud. You raise an eyebrow, letting a small grin creep onto your face. @@.player;"You're the most popular girl in school. Haven't you done this before?"@@ Jessica blinks, surprised by the question. Then she lets out a breathy laugh, but it sounds more like an exhale of tension than amusement. She crosses her arms, not defensively, just to have something to do with them. @@.jessica;"You'd think so, right?"@@ @@.jessica;"The truth is, I have danced before,"@@ she says, eyes flicking away again. @@.jessica;"But never like this."@@ You tilt your head slightly. @@.player;"Like what?"@@ Her voice softens, gaze fixed on something far beyond the gym walls. @@.jessica;"Like I didn't have to keep checking how I looked. Like I wasn't performing. Like I didn't have to worry what people would say if I smiled too long or held on too close."@@ She laughs, but it's dry and quiet. @@.jessica;"Every time I've danced at these things, it was always with guys who liked the idea of being seen with me. And I didn't mind, because I was supposed to be okay with it."@@ You don't say anything, just letting her talk. @@.jessica;"But tonight wasn't like that,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"You didn't look at me like I owed you something. You didn't make it feel like some... show."@@ Her blue eyes meet yours again, and there's vulnerability and gratefulness in them. @@.jessica;"I don't know what that says about me,"@@ she finishes, voice barely above a whisper. @@.jessica;"But it mattered."@@ She looks at you, waiting for your next words. <<button "It mattered to me too" "Day 20 - Jessica Dance 5">>\<<set $d20jessicadanceq to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_jessica_end" "It mattered to me too" "story">><</button>> <<button "So you're saying I'm the first one to sweep you off your feet?" "Day 20 - Jessica Dance 5">>\<<set $d20jessicadanceq to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_jessica_end" "So you're saying I'm the first one to sweep you off your feet?" "story">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D20homecomingJessica">>\ <<if $d20jessicadanceq is true>>\ You take a breath first and let it all settle before speaking. Your voice is quiet but firm when you finally do. @@.player;"It mattered to me too."@@ Jessica's eyes widen a little. Her lips part slightly, and it's clear she wants to say something back immediately. No words come though. Not yet. Her gaze drops again as she lets out a soft breath. @@.jessica;"That's really good to hear,"@@ she says finally, voice almost fragile. @@.jessica;"I didn't expect to feel like this tonight. And I definitely didn't expect you. I've been trying to hold myself together my entire life. Smiling when I'm supposed to, cheering at the right times, making everything look easy. And I'm good at it, you know?"@@ You nod gently. @@.jessica;"But this is the first time in a while I didn't //have// to be good at it,"@@ she continues. @@.jessica;"Where I just got to be... someone dancing. I.... I don't think I've let myself //be// someone dancing in a long time."@@ @@.jessica;"Ugh, why am I getting emotional?"@@ Jessica asks, her eyes getting watery. @@.jessica;"It's just a stupid dance, right?"@@ @@.player;"It really isn't, Jessica,"@@ you say. @@.jessica;"Thanks, $name."@@ You offer her a hand. @@.player;"Come on,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"Let's get out of the spotlight before we melt."@@ She laughs as she takes your hand. Her fingers are cool against yours, but they tighten just a little as you guide her off the floor, back toward the edge of the gym where the lights aren't so harsh and the noise isn't so loud. Neither of you says much as you walk. But you don't //have// to. You danced. You saw each other. You mattered to each other. That's all that really matters. <<else>>\ @@.player;"So, you're saying I'm the first on to sweep you off your feet?"@@ you ask. Jessica blinks at your words, caught off guard, but then her expression shifts into something sly. @@.jessica;"Oh my God,"@@ she says, nudging you lightly with her elbow. @@.jessica;"Did you //really// just say that?"@@ You grin, shrugging one shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world. @@.player;"What? I'm just trying to interpret the moment."@@ She rolls her eyes, but the laugh that slips out is genuine, her earlier tension melted. @@.jessica;"You're insufferable,"@@ she says, though the words come out too fond to carry any real bite. @@.player;"And yet you've been swept away,"@@ you say, bowing. Jessica crosses her arms again, feigning a deep sigh like she's just absolutely exhausted by your antics. @@.jessica;"Fine. Congratulations. You've made the queen bee of Pacific Crest laugh during a slow dance. Are you going to frame the moment or what?"@@ @@.player;"Already engraved in the memory vault."@@ @@.jessica;"Oh my God,"@@ she mutters, but she's laughing yet again. @@.jessica;"You're lucky you're cute."@@ @@.player;"So you admit it,"@@ you state, raising an eyebrow. She opens her mouth to respond, then seems to think better of it. A light pink flush spreads across her cheeks as she looks away for a second. @@.jessica;"I admit nothing,"@@ she says breezily, stepping back and gently slipping her hand from yours. @@.jessica;"Except that it was fun."@@ You watch her for a moment, struck by how real she feels right now. For once in her life, she seems to not care about maintaining her perfect image. She's just a girl on the gym floor who let herself have a little bit of peace tonight. @@.jessica;"C'mon,"@@ she says as the music shifts. @@.jessica;"Before you say anything even cheesier."@@ You chuckle, following her lead as the two of you step off the dance floor. Her heels have been kicked off, dangling from one hand. There's a spring in her step that wasn't there before. She doesn't say anything more, but she says close as you walk side by side. The moment's too good to ruin with words. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 16">><</button>>

<<if $jordanRomance > 9>>\ <<set $d20jordandance to true>>\ You scan the edge of the gym for a familiar face, heart beating just a little faster than you'd like. And then you spot him. Jordan's leaning against one of the support columns, half in shadow. His suit jacket's open, sleeves cuffed just a little at the wrists, and his arms are crossed in that classic "don't come near me" posture he always defaults to. His eyes, when they find yours, don't narrow like they usually do. They light up. You make your way toward him, steps quickening, your voice already forming the invitation, when he suddenly pushes off the column and takes two easy steps toward you. @@.jordan;"Dance with me?"@@ he says. You blink. @@.player;"Wait, what?"@@ Jordan's already holding out a hand. He doesn't look away or smirk or joke or play it cool. He just looks at you and it immediately becomes clear that he's been holding onto the question for a while. It's just he's finally gotten brave enough to ask it. @@.player;"I was gonna ask you,"@@ you say, still a little stunned. @@.jordan;"Guess I beat you to it,"@@ he mutters, a touch smug. @@.jordan;"But only 'cause it's you."@@ Your heart skips. @@.jordan;"I don't really do this stuff, you know,"@@ he tells you. @@.jordan;"Dancing. Public stuff. Whatever. Feels dumb, usually."@@ @@.player;"Usually?"@@ you echo, raising an eyebrow. Jordan shrugs, a little lopsided. @@.jordan;"Yeah. But you're not 'usual.' So."@@ He doesn't elaborate. You get the sense that's already more vulnerability than he meant to show tonight. You smile and slide your hand into his. His grip is warm, fingers a little tense at first before he relaxes just enough. @@.player;"Alright, thespian. Let's go."@@ He exhales something that's half a laugh, half a sigh, like not even he can quite believe what he's doing. @@.jordan;"You're gonna make me regret this, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Absolutely."@@ But the smile on his face as you lead him onto the dance floor says he wouldn't have it any other way. <<button "Dance dance" "Day 20 - Jordan Dance 3">>\<<set $d20jordandance to true>>\<</button>> <<elseif $jordanRelo > 49>>\ <<set $d20jordandance to true>>\ You find him leaning against a column, hands tucked into his pockets, posture all loose and casual like he doesn't care. But you've known Jordan long enough to see the tension in his shoulders and the way his jaw clenches when he's trying to act cool. He's standing just far enough from the dance floor to pretend he's not watching it, but just close enough that you know he is. You walk up and nudge his arm gently. @@.player;"Hey."@@ Jordan's quick glance of recognition softens into a grin. @@.jordan;"Hey yourself."@@ For a second, you both just stand there, watching the other students sway under the low, shifting lights. The slow song is starting. @@.player;"So..."@@ you begin, a little uncertain despite yourself. @@.player;"Wanna dance?"@@ Jordan blinks in surprise before chuckling under his breath and tilting his head toward you. @@.jordan;"You asking me, or just hoping I trip over ny own feet for your entertainment?"@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Can't it be both?"@@ @@.jordan;"If I injure myself, you can be the one who gets chewed out by Coach."@@ @@.player;"Happily,"@@ you state, smiling. He gives a long sigh. @@.jordan;"You grow on a guy, you know. Like a weird, stubborn fungus."@@ You're about to fire back something witty when he smoothly pushes off the column and holds out his hand. @@.jordan;"C'mon then,"@@ he says, and it's softer than anything else he's said tonight. @@.jordan;"Before I change my mind."@@ Your hand slides into his, and you swear there's a second where he laces his fingers through yours before quickly switching to a more standard grip. You pull him into the crowd and find a spot near the edge of the dance floor. He hesitates for a beat before resting his hand on your waist. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ he mutters. @@.jordan;"Tell me if I step on your foot."@@ @@.player;"You won't,"@@ you say. He raises an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"You got that much faith in me?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you tease. @@.player;"I'm just ''really'' good at dodging."@@ <<button "Dance dance" "Day 20 - Jordan Dance 3">>\<<set $d20jordandance to true>>\<</button>> <<elseif $jordanRelo > 29>>\ The gym hums with the soft rhythm of a slow song. You weave through the crowd until you spot Jordan leaning against a column, arms crossed like always. He's watching the dance floor with a faint wrinkle between his brows, like he's trying to figure something out but doesn't want to admit he's curious. You approach, careful not to come off too strong. @@.player;"Hey."@@ Jordan glances over. @@.jordan;"Yo."@@ His voice is low, a bit surprised to see you but not unfriendly. You glance toward the dance floor, then back at him. @@.player;"So... wanna dance?"@@ Jordan's head tilts slightly. @@.jordan;"Seriously?"@@ @@.player;"One song,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Could be good for you."@@ He snorts under his breath, but not like he's mocking you. More like he's caught off guard and trying not to show it. @@.jordan;"You're really out here asking people like it's no big deal, huh?"@@ @@.player;"I mean, it //is// a dance,"@@ you point out. @@.player;"That's what people do."@@ @@.jordan;"...I don't know."@@ He shifts his weight. @@.jordan;"I don't really do the whole slow-dance thing. Never have."@@ There's a beat before he gives a quiet, thoughtful: @@.jordan;"Hmm..."@@ You're not sure if that's a maybe or a polite no. But hey, there's a window. <<button "You don't have to be good at it. Just follow my lead" "Day 20 - Jordan Dance 2">>\<<set $d20jordandance to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_jordan_convince" "You don't have to be good at it. Just follow my lead" "story">><</button>> <<button "C'mon, everyone's doing it" "Day 20 - Jordan Dance 2">>\<<set $d20jordandance to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_jordan_convince" "C'mon, everyone's doing it" "story">><</button>> <<elseif $jordanRelo > 14>>\ <<set $d20jordandance to false>>\ Jordan leans against a column, arms folded, eyes tracking the crowd but not really watching. You walk up. @@.player;"Wanna dance?"@@ you ask, casual but direct. Jordan's brows lift and he stares at you like you just spoke another language. @@.jordan;"...What?"@@ @@.player;"One song with me."@@ He blinks. @@.jordan;"You serious?"@@ You nod. A pause. @@.jordan;"You've got guts, I'll give you that,"@@ he says, chuckling at the audacity of it all. @@.jordan;"But I don't dance. Especially not with people I barely talk to."@@ Not everyone says yes, you guess. <<button "Make better decisions" "Day 20 - 16">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $d20jordandance to false>>\ What are you even thinking? <<button "Asking Jordan to dance? What?" "Day 20 - 16">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $jordanRomance > 9>> <<set $d20jordandance to true>>\ <<elseif $jordanRelo > 49>>\ <<set $d20jordandance to true>>\ <<elseif $jordanRelo > 29>>\ <<if $d20jordandance is true>>\ @@.player;"You don't have to be good at it,"@@ you say, stepping just a little closer. @@.player;"Just follow my lead."@@ Jordan looks at you. Really looks at you. For a second, he's unreadable. Those brown eyes of his fixed and thoughtful, like he's trying to figure out if this is some sort of trap. But when he doesn't find anything but sincerity, something shifts in his shoulders. The tension loosens. @@.jordan;"...You sure about that?"@@ he asks. @@.jordan;"Because I've got two left feet and a personal vendetta against rhythm."@@ You grin. @@.player;"I can handle it. I've done a lot in theater class with you. This is nothing."@@ Jordan huffs out a laugh, barely audible over the music. For the guy who never says much, there's a lot in the way he exhales. Like he's letting himself breathe for once. @@.jordan;"...Alright,"@@ he mutters. @.jordan;"Just this once."@@ You offer your hand. He hesitates, but only for a second before taking it. It's rough and calloused from years of sports, yet still carries warmth. It's steady, too. He doesn't grip too tight or too loose, just lets it rest in yours with surprising ease. Like hell, maybe this isn't the worst idea in the world after all. As you walk together toward the dance floor, the lights catch his face. It's just barely enough to see the slight red blooming across his cheeks. Not full-on blushing, but enough to make your stomach twist in that weirdly nice way. @@.jordan;"Don't make me regret this,"@@ he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. @@.player;"No promises,"@@ you shoot back, smiling. <<else>>\ You flash Jordan a teasing grin and say @@.player;"C'mon, everyone's doing it."@@ Your tone is light and playful, but it seems Jordan doesn't appreciate it. He stares at you for a beat, his eyes unreadable under the low gym lights. Then he lets out a dry scoff, shifting his weight against the wall. @@.jordan;"Yeah, well, I'm not 'everyone,'"@@ he says flatly. His voice isn't cruel, but it's clipped, guarded. You nod, trying to keep it casual, but the air between you already feels a little heavier. @@.player;"Right,"@@ you say, backing off with a small shrug. @@.player;"No worries."@@ Jordan doesn't say anything else. His gaze returns to the crowd, already checked out. You turn away and start walking, blending back into the crowd. You tell yourself it's not a big deal, but you still feel a quiet sting. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Dance dance" "Day 20 - Jordan Dance 3">>\<<set $d20jordandance to true>>\<</button>>

<<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ The moment your hand finds Jordan's again on the edge of the dance floor, he hesitates. His fingers curl around yours, strong but uncertain. It's clear he //wants// to do this, but isn't sure if he's //allowed// to. His other hand hovers awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to do with it. You offer a small, amused smile and gently guide it to your waist. He follows your lead without argument, but he won't look at you just yet. His eyes are too busy flicking nervously around the gym. There are couples everywhere, slow dancing under dim lights and shifting spotlights, caught up in the Homecoming magic. Most people are lost in their own little worlds, but Jordan's not one of them. He's watching everyone, watching everyone watch him. You can feel the stiffness in his arm and the tension in his fingers. He shifts his jaw and mutters, @@.jordan;"Are people staring?"@@ You don't even glance around. Instead, you tap his chest. A light press right over the heart. He startles, blinking down at you. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say gently, voice loud enough to be heard over the music. @@.player;"Eyes here."@@ His gaze snaps to yours. You see the flash of vulnerability behind it for just a second before he swallows it back. @@.jordan;"Right,"@@ he says, quieter this time. @@.jordan;"My bad."@@ You start to sway, slowly guiding the rhythm. Jordan follows your lead, and while he's still unsure and stiff, he's evidently trying. //He's trying for you.// @@.player;"You know,"@@ you tease, voice playful, @@.player;"you could at least pretend you've done this before."@@ He scoffs. @@.jordan;"I have. Just... not like this."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Not like what?"@@ Jordan glances down at your joined hands, then back up at you. His cheeks are slightly pink now, but he doesn't look away this time. @@.jordan;"Not with someone who made it feel like this."@@ You're not sure if it's the music, the lights, or just the fact that it's Jordan saying it, but your heart flips a little at that. @@.player;"You're surprisingly good at this when you stop overthinking it,"@@ you murmur. @@.jordan;"I am ''not'' overthinking."@@ @@.player;"You //so// are."@@ He doesn't argue, instead letting out a low breath and spinning you. It's clumsy and slightly off-beat, but with a kind of charm that makes it work. You land back in his arms, laughing, and he grins like he's proud of himself. @@.jordan;"Okay, now I'm not overthinking,"@@ he says. You rest your hand on his shoulder, letting yourself lean in just enough that the closeness feels natural. The kind of closeness you don't offer to just about anyone. Jordan's gaze lingers on you. His voice is lower now. @@.jordan;"You look... really good tonight."@@ @@.player;"I always look good,"@@ you say, smiling. He laughs. The song plays on, slow and dreamy. He guides you a little more confidently now, finding the rhythm. His hand at your waist grows steadier, more comfortable. And for a minute, there's nothing else. No stares, no pressure, no football. Just you and Jordan, slow dancing in the gym. @@.jordan;"You're trouble,"@@ he mutters into your ear, just loud enough for you to hear. @@.player;"Took you long enough to figure that out."@@ His hand gives you a gentle squeeze at your side. He doesn't say anything more after that, but the way he's looking at you says more than words ever could. When the song finally begins to fade, you catch the tiniest flicker of disappointment in his expression. He doesn't want to let go. Not yet. Neither do you. <<button "Dance over" "Day 20 - Jordan Dance 4">><</button>>

The music stops and neither of you moves right away. Eventually, you pull back slightly, just enough to catch the faint flush coloring his ears and the way he looks away too quickly. Like maybe if he doesn't meet your gaze, you won't see it. You definitely see it. @@.player;"Did I just crack the ice-cold quarterback?"@@ you ask, smirking. Jordan scoffs, but the sound is too delayed to be convincing. @@.jordan;"As if. That was just charity work. So you wouldn't feel bad."@@ @@.player;"Uh-huh. You looked real charitable out there,"@@ you tease. He rolls his eyes. @@.jordan;"Don't let it get to your head."@@ @@.player;"Look, all I'm saying is you looked like you were having a good time."@@ There's a beat of silence before Jordan looks down at the floor. @@.jordan;"I was,"@@ he admits. The honesty of it takes you by surprise. Not the words themselves, but how unguarded they are. You've seen Jordan dodge conversations like a pro, but this feels real. @@.jordan;"I wasn't even gonna come tonight,"@@ he continues, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. @@.jordan;"Coach made me. Said it'd be good for team spirit or whatever."@@ @@.player;"Wow. Team spirit, huh?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says, laughing. @@.jordan;"I figured I'd show up, hang out by the wall, then bounce before anyone noticed."@@ You tilt your head. @@.player;"So... what changed?"@@ His gaze meets yours again. It's softer this time. A little surprised, like he's still figuring it out himself. @@.jordan;"You, probably."@@ The words hang in the air between you before he looks away again, quick. @@.jordan;"Don't get used to me saying cheesy stuff like that."@@ @@.player;"You literally just did,"@@ you shoot back. He shakes his head, but he's smiling too. Less embarrassed, more content. The beat of the next song starts up, and the two of you quickly make your way off the dance floor. The gym fills with movement and color and laughter again. <<if $jordanRomance > 19>>\ @@.jordan;"Anyway,"@@ Jordan says, clearing his throat. @@.jordan;"Thanks for accepting my offer."@@ <<else>>\ @@.jordan;"Anyway,"@@ Jordan says, clearing his throat. @@.jordan;"Thanks for dragging me out there."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Anytime."@@ He gives you a half-smile before stepping back, giving you space again. <<button "You're kind of cute when you're flustered" "Day 20 - Jordan Dance 5">>\<<set $d20jordandanceq to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_jordan_question" "You're kind of cute when you're flustered" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'm glad you came today" "Day 20 - Jordan Dance 5">>\<<set $d20jordandanceq to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_jordan_question" "I'm glad you came today" "story">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D20homecomingJordan">>\ <<if $d20jordandanceq is true>>\ Jordan's face is already pink from the dance, his usual cool expression melted in the aftermath. He's still catching his breath, arms dropped to his sides, posture looser than usual. It's as if that slow dance pried open the armor he wears without permission. You grin, still a little breathless yourself, and lean in just slightly. @@.player;"You're kind of cute when you're flustered."@@ For a split second, Jordan just stares at you blankly. @@.jordan;"Oh my God,"@@ he groans, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly trying to hide the blush that's now spreading across the tops of his ears. @@.jordan;"Don't say stuff like that."@@ @@.player;"Why not?"@@ you tease. @@.player;"It's true."@@ @@.jordan;"I didn't realize I signed up for public humiliation when I said yes to that dance,"@@ he mutters, but there's no real heat behind it. @@.jordan;"You're seriously enjoying this, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Maybe a little."@@ @@.jordan;"You're the worst,"@@ he says, unable to hide his smile. @@.player;"Flustered and flirty,"@@ you say. @@.player;"What a dangerous combination."@@ @@.jordan;"Don't get cocky,"@@ Jordan warns. @@.jordan;"You're only getting away with this because I'm in a weirdly good mood."@@ @@.player;"Oh, so //this// is what your good mood looks like,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I thought this was all a dream."@@ @@.jordan;"Keep it up and I'll ghost you for the next week."@@ @@.player;"No you won't."@@ His eyes narrow playfully. @@.jordan;"Don't test me."@@ <<else>>\ You offer a quiet smile. @@.player;"I'm glad you came today."@@ He pauses. His weight shifts again, like he's trying to ground himself in the moment. You can see him sorting through a dozen possible responses behind his eyes. He could deflect or joke or just shrug, but he decides not to. @@.jordan;"Yeah?"@@ he asks, voice low. @@.player;"I seriously am,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"It wouldn't have been the same without you."@@ Jordan looks at you for a long moment. And then, slowly, the tension in his shoulders eases. His expression softens as he says, @@.jordan;"I'm glad I came too. I didn't think I'd say that, but... yeah. I needed this."@@ @@.jordan;"I thought tonight was gonna suck,"@@ he says, chuckling. You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"And now?"@@ @@.jordan;"Still kinda sucks,"@@ he says, smirking. @@.jordan;"But, like... in a bearable way."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"What a glowing review."@@ He smiles again. @@.jordan;"Thanks for, y'know, not making it worse."@@ You nudge him lightly with your elbow. @@.player;"Anytime."@@ Jordan looks at you one last time before stepping back toward the crowd. @@.jordan;"I gotta find the football team again. Luke's probably crowd surfing or something."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Go on ahead."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 16">><</button>>

The snack table is in ruins. You spot it from across the gym. Plates picked clean, cupcake wrappers scattered like confetti, and in the middle of it all: Luke. He's holding a stack of napkins in one hand and three cookies in the other, one already half-devoured. His eyes are wide with more joy than you've ever seen. You walk up and raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Seriously?"@@ Luke looks up mid-chew, sheepish but unapologetic. @@.luke;"It's so good, oh my god,"@@ he mumbles around the bite. @@.luke;"You gotta try the brownies, dude. They're like, illegal levels of good. I think the student council put crack in them."@@ @@.player;"Pretty sure they didn't, but go on,"@@ you say, snorting. He finishes chewing, wipes his hands on a napkin, and grins at you, cheeks still a little full. @@.luke;"Want me to grab you one?"@@ @@.player;"I'm good,"@@ you reply, smiling a little. @@.player;"Actually, I came over here to ask something else."@@ Luke tilts his head. @@.luke;"Yeah?"@@ You glance toward the dance floor, still lit up in purples and golds, people swaying to a softer song now. @@.player;"Wanna dance?"@@ His face twitches in surprise. You can see his brain doing the calculations. Luke's always been the kind of guy to just go with the flow, but this seems to have thrown him off a little. @@.luke;"Wait, you wanna dance?"@@ he asks, incredulous. @@.luke;"With me?"@@ @@.luke;"I mean..."@@ he trails off, scratching the back of his neck. @@.luke;"I didn't think... like... I'm not... like... I'm totally cool with people doing their thing, you know? And you're awesome, obviously, and you look, I mean, like... You look good, just, uh, I'm just, like, I don't really... like that?"@@ You smile softly. Luke's not trying to be rude. He's trying very, very hard not to be rude. He's stumbling over every word. You can tell it's not discomfort with you, it's more like he doesn't know what the right thing to say is. @@.player;"You're straight,"@@ you offer gently. Luke brightens a little. @@.luke;"Yeah! I'm straight. Sorry if that's like... y'know..."@@ You wave it off. @@.player;"It's not offensive to be straight, Luke."@@ @@.luke;"Okay, okay, that's cool. I just didn't wanna mess this up somehow or make it all awkward."@@ You can tell he doesn't want to reject you. He's just confused. But he's not walking away either. You've got a chance. <<if $acceptance > 19>>\ <<button "I'm not even sure who I am these days, but dancing with you just feels right" "Day 20 - Luke Dance 2">>\<<set $d20lukedance to true>>\<</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Overexplain it to him" "Day 20 - Luke Dance 2">>\<<set $d20lukedance to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $d20lukedance is true>>\ You let out a breath and say, softly, @@.player;"I'm not even sure who I am these days, but dancing with you just feels right."@@ The silence holds, but you can almost hear the words clicking into place inside his head. He tilts it slightly before smiling. @@.luke;"Dude,"@@ he says, voice almost reverent. @@.luke;"That was, like... really deep."@@ @@.player;"Thanks?"@@ you say, laughing. He nods, then gestures vaguely with his cookie. @@.luke;"You ever think about becoming a poet? I feel like you'd kill it at, like, a nerd open mic night or something."@@ @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you mutter. Luke glances toward the dance floor again. The slow song is still going, couples swaying in soft rhythms under the purple lights. The whole thing has a dreamy, surreal quality to it. Luke swallows the last of his snacks in one bite, wipes his hands on his pants, like that's totally acceptable, and turns back to you. @@.luke;"You sure?"@@ he asks, and there's a rare moment of sincerity in his voice. @@.luke;"I'm not exactly graceful. I once tripped on a flat surface during a fire drill."@@ @@.player;"I know, I was there,"@@ you comment. @@.player;"I've known you were a walking safety hazard for a while now, Luke. Still asked."@@ @@.luke;"Aw, you really do like me."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Don't make me change my mind."@@ He grins, then reaches out for your hand without warning. @@.luke;"Alright then, let's dance."@@ You pause. @@.player;"Wait, actually?"@@ @@.luke;"Dude. I'm not gonna leave you hanging after you said all that. Come on. Just promise you won't let me embarrass myself."@@ @@.player;"I'll try,"@@ you say, letting him pull you forward. @@.player;"But I can't promise anything."@@ @@.luke;"You suck,"@@ Luke says cheerfully. And together, you head toward the glowing lights and soft music. He's still got crumbs on his shirt, but somehow that feels right too. Like the start of something that doesn't need to make sense to feel good. <<button "Dance with Puke" "Day 20 - Luke Dance 3">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ @@.player;"Okay, so like, hear me out,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's not, like, a //thing// thing. We're not doing some slow romantic swirl or whatever. It's just a dance. Like, bros can dance, right? You know, friendly. Platonic. Totally chill. Not gay. I mean, not that there's anything wrong with gay, obviously, but this isn't that. Just movement. Rhythm. Calories burned, maybe."@@ Luke blinks at you, but you keep going. @@.player;"Actually, I read somewhere that in old cultures, dancing between men was totally normal. Like, statistically, if you factor in the dance floor layout and the average BPM of the songs—"@@ @@.luke;"Dude,"@@ Luke finally says, gently cutting in. His brows are lifted, a snack still in his cheek. @@.luke;"What are you even talking about?"@@ You open your mouth, then close it. Luke rubs the back of his neck, glancing out toward the dance floor. @@.luke;"I mean... I get what you're trying to say, I think. And I really don't care about any of that stuff. You're cool. But you're making this weird. Like you're trying to prove something that doesn't need proving."@@ He smiles faintly. @@.luke;"Sorry, $name. I'm gonna sit this one out."@@ And just like that, he turns back to the snack table, reaching for another gummy bear like the entire conversation never even happened. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 16">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ The music settles into something softer, the kind of track that sounds like it should be playing in a slow-motion movie scene where two people realize they've been in love all along. The gym lights dim to a faint lavender hue, the disco ball scattering soft light across the polished floors. It feels like everyone's gone quiet around you, like the whole world has agreed to hush for a moment and just... sway. You and Luke are near the edge of the dance floor, but not far enough to escape the ambiance. He's got one hand loosely on your waist, the other still awkwardly hovering like he's not sure if it's supposed to go on your shoulder or somewhere else. Eventually, he just kind of lets it float. His rhythm is off by half a second, and you can hear him counting the beat in his head like it's a math test. You glance down at his clothes again. @@.player;"Luke,"@@ you say, trying to keep the laughter out of your voice, @@.player;"how did you seriously not wear a suit or anything for this?"@@ @@.luke;"Uh, rude,"@@ he states. @@.luke;"I wore pants."@@ @@.player;"They're sweatpants."@@ @@.luke;"Formal sweatpants."@@ @@.player;"There's no such thing."@@ Luke shrugs, swaying a little out of time. @@.luke;"I'm unique."@@ @@.player;"This isn't unique,"@@ you say, eyeing the cartoon dog print on his shirt. @@.player;"It's just you not caring."@@ @@.luke;"Exactly!"@@ he says, beaming. @@.luke;"That's how you become unique."@@ @@.player;"That's how you become a walking fashion crime,"@@ you state, groaning. @@.player;"You really are a charity case."@@ @@.luke;"That hurts."@@ @@.player;"Good."@@ Still, the insults don't land the way they usually do, softening midair. And as the song deepens into its second verse, Luke stops trying to keep count and just lets himself move. It's clumsy and not even //close// to graceful, but sincere. At some point, you both start laughing, mostly at yourself. Luke steps on your foot, and when you pretend to die, he catches you with a snort. Then the music swells. There's this moment when you both slow to a near stop, and you look up at him and realize how close you are. Not just in physical space, but in presence. In comfort and history. He's still got that dumb smile on his face, but there's something gentler there too. You feel the subtle shift. Maybe if you leaned in, he wouldn't pull away. His hand adjusts slightly at your back. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. There's a flicker of something curious in his gaze. Your heart is louder than the music, and the next move is yours. <<button "Lean in" "Day 20 - Luke Dance 4">>\<<set $d20lukedance1 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_luke_lean_in" "lean in" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Pull back" "Day 20 - Luke Dance 4">>\<<set $d20lukedance1 to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_luke_lean_in" "pull back" "rel">><</button>>

<<if $d20lukedance1 is true>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You lean in. It's nothing dramatic, just a small tilt forward. Just enough to let the closeness settle into something intentional. Luke stiffens for a moment. You can see it in his eyes, the brief flash of startled realization. But then he softens. You're close enough to feel the warmth coming off of him, the way his breath catches like he wasn't expecting this, but isn't pulling away either. The music moves gently around you, but everything else just melts away. It's just the two of you in that dim glow, swaying gently like the world's slowest, clumsiest ballroom dancers. @@.luke;"You're, uh, really close,"@@ Luke mumbles. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I noticed."@@ He clears his throat, evidently flustered. @@.luke;"Didn't know you could move in like that without a warning."@@ @@.player;"I figured you could handle it,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"You're tough, remember?"@@ Luke lets out a huff of breath. @@.luke;"Tough, yeah. Not good at this, though."@@ His gaze flicks down to where your hands are still joined, then back to your eyes. @@.luke;"I suck at slow dances and stuff like this. You know, feelings."@@ @@.player;"You're doing fine,"@@ you say. His hand shifts slightly at your back, refusing to let go. He's steady in a way you didn't expect. Solid, warm, and familiar. You're not sure if he knows what he's doing, but it's clear he wants to make you happy. @@.luke;"$name,@@ he says, like your name is something he's still testing. @@.luke;"This is weird, right?"@@ You tilt your head, still swaying. @@.player;"Does it feel weird?"@@ @@.luke;"No,"@@ Luke says, laughing quietly. @@.luke;"It's not bad at all."@@ You feel his chest rise and fall as the music nears its end, the notes starting to slow. His eyes flick toward the crowd for a second, maybe he's wonder if anyone's watching or judging. But then he looks right back at you, and the hesitation fades just a little. @@.luke;"You're lucky I like you,"@@ he mumbles. You laugh. @@.player;"I really am."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You ease back just slightly and shift the moment into something safer. Luke's hands adjust as you do, his arm still steady at your waist, but now the two of you are just a little more apart. The intensity of the air between you fades into something lighter and more breathable. @@.player;"This is nice,"@@ you say softly, your voice barely above the music. Luke grins wide. @@.luke;"Yeah?"@@ he says. @@.luke;"I was kinda terrified I was gonna mess it up. Like, knock over a decoration, or collapse, or bump into another person."@@ @@.player;"You came close to all three,"@@ you state. @@.luke;"Really?"@@ You laugh and he laughs too. @@.luke;"Okay, okay. I might have. But still. This wasn't so bad."@@ The song begins to wind down, its last dew notes carrying over the gym. You glance over and couples are still swaying, some holding each other close, some whispering and giggling. But you and Luke are just there, vibing like friends do. @@.player;"I'm glad I was able to convince you to dance,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ he says, still smiling. @@.luke;"I guess I am too."@@ You step away as the song ends, and Luke holds out a fist for you to bump. You roll your eyes but bump it anyway. @@.luke;"Don't tell Samantha I danced, by the way,"@@ he requests. You raise a brow. @@.player;"She's literally been watching the whole time."@@ @@.luke;"Oh."@@ He winces as you both look over to where Samantha is sitting with her arms crossed and the smuggest smirk imaginable on her face. @@.player;"She's never letting us live this down,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"I regret everything,"@@ Luke mutters. But there's laughter in his voice, and yours too, as the two of you head off the dance floor. You're not something more or anything complicated, you're just as you've always been. Two people who've known each other long enough to make it feel safe. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Luke Dance 5">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D20homecomingLuke">>\ <<if $d20lukedance1 is true>>\ As you and Luke step off the dance floor, the gym lights feel a little brighter, the air a little cooler. You're both grinning like idiots, especially Luke. His cheeks are slightly flushed and his hair is even more messed up than usual. You barely get two steps before— @@.samantha;"YOU!!!"@@ Samantha practically launches herself at you both. Luke startles so hard he nearly drops the brownie he's holding (where did it come from?). @@.luke;"GAH! What'd I do? I swear I didn't break anything."@@ Samantha grabs your arm, her eyes sparkling with a wild mix of shock and glee. @@.samantha;"I. Saw. ''Everything.''"@@ You blink. @@.player;"Everything?"@@ She leans in dramatically. @@.samantha;"Everything. The dancing, the slow sway, the lean in, the little head tilt, the hand on the back, the look."@@ She fans herself. @@.samantha;"It was so soft I almost died."@@ @@.luke;"You saw that?"@@ Luke asks, shocked. Samantha ignores him and jabs a finger at you. @@.samantha;"You were all like, 'Oooh, I'm leaning in~' and Luke was all, 'What is this strange warmth in this heart??? Am I having... feelings?!"@@ Luke throws his hands up. @@.luke;"Why are you saying it like that?!"@@ Samantha smirks, poking his chest. @@.samantha;"Because you blushed."@@ @@.luke;"I didn't!"@@ he lies, blushing harder. You can't help but laugh. @@.player;"You totally did."@@ Luke groans. @@.luke;"Oh my God. I'm gonna eat a few more bags of chips and disappear."@@ @@.samantha;"You should,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Because I am telling everyone."@@ @@.luke;"Nooo..."@@ @@.samantha;"Geez, I'm kidding,"@@ she adds, more gently now. @@.samantha;"Mostly."@@ She steps back and smiles. @@.samantha;"Seriously, though? That was really sweet. I'm proud of you."@@ @@.luke;"Wait, me?"@@ Luke asks. @@.samantha;"Yes, you, dummy."@@ She ruffles his hair, despite his weak protests. @@.samantha;"And you too, $name. That was brave."@@ Luke shifts awkwardly, nudging you with his elbow. @@.luke;"Hey. You wanna get some juice or something? Like... as bros?"@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Sure. As bros."@@ Samantha rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"Yeah, sure, 'bros.' That's totally what you two are now."@@ <<else>>\ You and Luke barely make it two steps off the dance floor before Samantha pounces. There's a glint in her eye that says she saw everything, and she's not letting it go. @@.samantha;"Well, well, well,"@@ she says, drawing out the words like a cat toying with a mouse. @@.samantha;"What just happened out there, huh?"@@ Luke immediately flails. @@.luke;"Friend dance! It was a friend dance!"@@ You snort, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. @@.player;"That was way too defensive."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, because look at her,"@@ Luke hisses, gesturing dramatically at Samantha. @@.luke;"She's go that look on her face. She's about to spin this into some 'Luke has a secret crush' kinda thing."@@ @@.samantha;"Me? Never."@@ Samantha feigns innocence. @@.samantha;"I'm just asking a simple question. You both looked awfully cozy out there."@@ @@.player;"It really wasn't a big deal,"@@ you state. @@.player;"The song came on, and we figured we should go for it. It was chill."@@ @@.luke;"Exactly!"@@ Luke exclaims, nodding emphatically. @@.luke;"Chill. Two bros vibing."@@ @@.samantha;"Bros,"@@ Samantha repeats, raising an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"While slow dancing under the sparkly lights with the song that literally had people kissing in the corner."@@ You look at Luke. @@.player;"Should we have kissed? I didn't get the memo."@@ @@.luke;"Please don't joke about that, I barely survived the dance itself."@@ Samantha cackles. @@.samantha;"You looked like you were gonna melt."@@ @@.luke;"I was sweating so hard. It's the pressure of your judgmental gaze, Samantha."@@ @@.samantha;"My gaze is a public service,"@@ she replies sweetly. @@.samantha;"But I've got to admit it was kind of charming."@@ Luke frowns. @@.luke;"I'm ''always'' charming."@@ Samantha turns to you. @@.samantha;"Is he, $name?"@@ You pat Luke on the shoulder. @@.player;"He tries his best."@@ @@.luke;"Unbelievable,"@@ Luke says, sighing dramatically. @@.luke;"No respect in this friend group."@@ It's just three friends riding the last waves of the night together. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 16">><</button>>

You spot Samantha at the drinks table, nursing a lukewarm cup of fruit punch. Her eyes scan the dance floor like a cat on the edge of pouncing, equal parts curious and skeptical. Her hair's a little frizzed from all the excitement and her eyeliner has smudged at the corners. Yet, she still manages to look cool. You walk over, feeling more nervous than you should around someone you've known forever. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you start, scratching the back of your neck. @@.player;"So, I was wondering if you maybe—"@@ @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ she cuts in, eyes lighting up. You blink. @@.player;"Wait, I didn't even finish—"@@ @@.samantha;"I know what you were gonna say."@@ She slams her cup down and wipes her hands on the tablecloth. @@.samantha;"We're dancing. C'mon."@@ Before you can protest or clarify or even fully process what's happening, she grabs your arm and starts tugging you toward the floor. @@.player;"That easily?"@@ you ask, stumbling a little as you follow. @@.samantha;"Yeah!"@@ she calls over her shoulder with a mischievous grin. @@.samantha;"You kidding me? I've been waiting for you to stop moping around all night and ask already."@@ @@.player;"I wasn't moping,"@@ you mumble, even though you kind of were. She turns her head just enough to shoot you a look. @@.samantha;"You so were. You had doom written all over your face."@@ You make a face, but her energy is infectious. The gym lights shimmer above you, and the sound of music pulses louder as you weave your way closer to the center of the room. People are already pairing off, moving in time to the dreamy song playing over the speakers. @@.player;"I didn't think you liked dancing,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"I don't,"@@ Samantha replies. @@.samantha;"But I like dancing with you."@@ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You freeze for a second before she rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"Relax. Don't read into it, Juliet. I'm just being a good friend."@@ <<else>>\ You freeze for a second before she rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"Relax. Don't read into it, Romeo. I'm just being a good friend."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Right. Good friend,"@@ you echo with a small smile as she takes your hand and slides the other to your shoulder. And just like that, you're swaying together. <<button "Dance" "Day 20 - Samantha Dance 2">><</button>>

<<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ The two of you settle into position as the slow song floats into the air. Samantha places one hand on your shoulder and intertwines her fingers with yours in the most casual way, the way she's done a million times before, but it somehow feels... new. Familiar, but electric. You place your hand on her waist, and immediately, she raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Look at you, Mr. Gentleman,"@@ she teases, glancing down at the space between your hand and her dress. @@.samantha;"We're really doing the whole proper dance form, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Did you expect me to just grab your hands and start spinning in circles?"@@ you reply with a grin. @@.samantha;"Honestly? I thought you'd have fucked something up by now."@@ You fake a stumble for dramatic effect, and she snorts. @@.samantha;"Classic $name."@@ The two of you sway in rhythm, and you stay careful at first. Just testing the boundaries and adjusting your pace. You lead, slowly and a bit awkwardly at first, but Samantha doesn't seem to mind. Her eyes flick across the room once or twice before settling back on you, like there's nowhere else she'd rather be. Around you, the other couples blur into a sea of motion, but in this little bubble, it's just the two of you. @@.samantha;"You aren't so bad,"@@ she says after a moment. @@.samantha;"Didn't think you'd make the suit work, but you kind of do."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"That almost sounded like a compliment."@@ @@.samantha;"Don't get used to it. I have a reputation to uphold."@@ Another verse begins, the music turning slower and more intimate. Your steps ease into something more natural. Your hand adjusts slightly on her back, and her fingers brush lightly against your own. @@.samantha;"I gotta admit,"@@ she says, leaning in just a little. @@.samantha;"I always pictured myself leading if we ever danced."@@ @@.player;"Oh yeah?"@@ you say. @@.player;"What makes you think you could."@@ @@.samantha;"Because I'm awesome. And clearly, you're running on nervous energy and vibes."@@ You laugh, but she //does// have a point. <<button "Keep leading in the traditional male position" "Day 20 - Samantha Dance 3">>\<<set $d20samanthadancelead to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_sam_lead" "lead" "story">><</button>> <<button "Let Samantha lead and fall into the feminine dance role" "Day 20 - Samantha Dance 3">>\<<set $d20samanthadancelead to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_sam_lead" "follow" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20samanthadancelead is true>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You don't back down. Instead, you tighten your grip on Samantha's hand ever so slightly and keep your steps steady and confident. More confident than you actually feel, but it doesn't matter. You're still leading, and she hasn't stopped you. That has to count for something. Samantha notices and raises an eyebrow. She doesn't pull back, though, instead opting to lean in. Just enough to tell you she's letting you. @@.samantha;"Well, look at you,"@@ she murmurs, amusement coloring her voice. @@.samantha;"Who gave you permission to be all competent?"@@ You smirk. @@.player;"I've been full of surprises lately."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, trust me. I've noticed."@@ Your shoes shuffle softly against the gym floor, the beat of the song guiding your steps. Despite the lights catching on the glitter of someone's dress, the flash of a camera, and the soft laughter of other couples, the gym feels personal. Samantha's eyes flick up to meet yours again. @@.samantha;"Y'know,"@@ she says, her voice lighter now. @@.samantha;"I always figured I'd have to carry you through something like this. Like, physically. But this is... nice."@@ @@.player;"So I'm not totally embarrassing myself?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"Not yet,"@@ she teases. @@.samantha;"You might even be kinda good at this."@@ You take a slow breath. With every sway and turn, Samantha seems to get closer without either of you really meaning to. There's no pressure or tension, just the kind of comfort that comes from years of knowing someone, reshaping into something softer. She exhales then says, @@.samantha;"I'm glad it's you."@@ That makes you pause, just for a heartbeat. @@.player;"Dancing with me?"@@ you ask. Samantha nods, her smile smaller but also less sarcastic. @@.samantha;"Yeah. I don't think I'd wanna do this with anyone else."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 5, 0, 100)>>\ The shift is subtle. So subtle that most people watching probably don't even notice it. But Samantha does. You loosen your grip just slightly, let your steps fall in line behind hers instead of guiding them, and tilt your head with the faintest nod of surrender. It's unspoken, but her eyes spark. @@.samantha;"Oh?"@@ she says, a smirk forming. @@.samantha;"Giving up control already?"@@ You grin. @@.player;"Figured I'd let the expert handle it."@@ Without missing a beat, she raises one eyebrow and pulls you a little closer, her hand firm against your back. @@.samantha;"Wise choice."@@ And suddenly, you're being led. Samantha's movements are confident and smooth, like she's done this before. It's not forceful, though. It's fluid and playful. She owns the lead in a way that makes it feel like the two of you are in sync, like she's guiding you through something. @@.samantha;"You're lucky I don't dip you,"@@ she teases, spinning you. You stumble a little on the turn, catching yourself quickly. @@.player;"If you drop me in front of the entire gym, I'm never forgiving you."@@ @@.samantha;"Please,"@@ she scoffs. @@.samantha;"I'd never drop you. I'd just gracefully lower you to the floor and call it performance art."@@ You laugh again. @@.player;"You're actually good at this,"@@ you murmur. She shrugs one shoulder, her voice quieter now, more sincere. @@.samantha;"Had to learn sometime. You think I'd survive this school if I didn't know how to dance?"@@ @@.player;"You make it look easy."@@ @@.samantha;"It's not. Not with most people, at least."@@ You glance at her, catching the brief flicker of something more serious in her expression before she masks it with a grin again. @@.samantha;"But with you, it's kinda nice,"@@ she says. <</if>>\ The music comes to a lull and now she's right in front of you. She's close, closer than before. Closer than she's ever been. And she's not pulling away. <<button "Make it romantic" "Day 20 - Samantha Dance 4">>\<<set $d20samanthadanceromantic to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_sam_romantic" "romantic" "story">><</button>> <<button "Keep it casual" "Day 20 - Samantha Dance 4">>\<<set $d20samanthadanceromantic to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_sam_romantic" "casual" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20samanthadanceromantic is true>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ Samantha's close now, closer than she's ever been. Close enough that you can see the mole under her left eye, the way her mascara is smudged ever so slightly, and how her breath catches in her throat before she speaks. But she doesn't say anything. She just looks at you. Her eyes, usually sharp and full of sarcastic comebacks, are wide and unreadable for once. And she's not pulling away. Your hand is still gently resting on her waist and her fingers are still curled lightly in your own. Neither of you makes a move to break it. It would be so, ''so'' easy to laugh this off. To crack a joke and go back to the rhythm of banter and snacks and teasing. But something about this moment feels delicate. You search her face, trying to read her expression. But for once, Samantha isn't a puzzle to be solved. She's just there, waiting for you. Hell, she's maybe even a little nervous. Your voice is quiet when you speak, a breath more than anything. @@.player;"...Samantha?"@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah?"@@ she answers, barely above a whisper. You hesitate. Then you smile. @@.player;"I never thought I'd say this, but... I think I like dancing. With you, at least."@@ A slow grin spreads across her face. @@.samantha;"Guess I'm just that good."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"No, I mean it. You make it easy. Shit, you make a lot of things easier."@@ Samantha's eyes flicker to your lips and back again. Her grip on your hand tightens just slightly. @@.samantha;"You're being sappy,"@@ she says, but her voice is shaking a little. @@.player;"Yeah. Sorry,"@@ you say, though you're not. @@.samantha;"Don't be."@@ And then she leans in. It's not a kiss, but her forehead brushes yours and your noses nearly bump. She's warm. So, so warm. The kind of warmth that sneaks up on you. The kind you don't realize you needed until you're basking in it. For a moment, nothing in the entire world matters. It's just the two of you. The final notes of the song drift into the air and fade like mist. You both blink, a little startled that it's over. The moment lingers between you, glowing faintly in the aftermath. Samantha is the first to pull back, but just barely. She gives your hand a small squeeze. @@.samantha;"That was... unexpected,"@@ she says softly. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you breathe. @@.player;"But not bad."@@ She smiles again, more certain this time. @@.samantha;"Not bad at all."@@ You walk off the dance floor together, side by side, fingers still loosely entwined. Neither of you says much, but you don't //need// to. Why? Because something has shifted, and for once, neither of you is in a rush to name it. <<else>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ She's closer than ever. Her breath fans across your cheek, and for a moment, there's a silence between you. The lights spin lazily above, casting soft colors across her features. You could say something serious here. You could lean in. But instead... You break into a grin. @@.player;"So... are you gonna drop me for the the dramatic finish?"@@ you whisper. Samantha lets out a snort and steps back, letting the tension dissolve. @@.samantha;"Please. I only save that kind of flair for competent dance partners."@@ @@.player;"When have I not been competent?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"Four times,"@@ she says, holding up four fingers. @@.samantha;"And that's not counting the time you almost tripped us both."@@ @@.player;"I was going for flair."@@ @@.samantha;"You were going for disaster,"@@ she fires back. The two of you fall into that easy rhythm again. Not the one on the speakers, but the one that's always existed between you. @@.player;"Okay, but you've gotta admit it,"@@ you say, leaning in just slightly. @@.player;"I still made you look good."@@ Samantha grins. @@.samantha;"You made me look better. Big difference."@@ You both laugh. She steps away and gives you a small bow. @@.samantha;"Thanks for the dance, partner."@@ You return it. @@.player;"An honor to dance with a true professional."@@ @@.samantha;"Damn right,"@@ she says, nudging you playfully as the two of you step off the floor together. @@.samantha;"Now c'mon, I need water, and you owe me a snack for helping you not mess up."@@ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, falling in step beside her. @@.player;"Even our dances come with an invoice, huh?"@@ @@.samantha;"With tax,"@@ she adds without missing a beat. @@.samantha;"Don't forget the tax."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Samantha dance over" "Day 20 - Samantha Dance 5">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D20homecomingSamantha">>\ <<if $d20samanthadanceromantic is true>>\ The moment you and Samantha step off the dance floor, the gym's noise returns like a wave. The air is warmer now. The heater could've been turned on, or maybe it's just the flush still lingering on both your faces. You barely take five steps before Luke spots you. He's lounging by the snack table with a cookie in one hand and a paper plate in the other, looking like he's been waiting for this moment his whole life. His eyes lock onto the two of you immediately. Specifically, your joined hands. @@.luke;"Oh my God,"@@ he blurts out, mouth still full of cookie. @@.luke;"You guys are holding hands!"@@ Both of you jerk like you've been hit with a stun gun. Your hands spring apart instantly. Samantha mutters something under her breath and tries to play it off by pushing her hair behind her ear. You look anywhere but at Luke. <<if $name is "Ethan">>\ Luke gasps dramatically. @@.luke;"Wait, was that a romantic dance? Like, did I just witness the birth of Samthan? Ethama? Ethmantha?"@@ <<else>>\ Luke gasps dramatically. @@.luke;"Wait, was that a romantic dance? Like, did I just witness the birth of Sam and $name?"@@ <</if>>\ @@.samantha;"Don't,"@@ Samantha warns, glaring at him with red cheeks. @@.player;"You're imagining things,"@@ you add quickly, voice a little too high. @@.player;"We were just dancing. As friends."@@ @@.luke;"Right, right,"@@ Luke says, nodding solemnly. @@.luke;"Just friendly dancing with intense eye contact and handholding and touching foreheads. Super casual."@@ @@.player;"We weren't—"@@ you start, but Samantha cuts in. @@.samantha;"Luke, you ate six cupcakes earlier and said you were in love with the frosting. Your opinion on romance is null and void."@@ @@.luke;"That was a deep moment between me and the frosting,"@@ Luke insists. @@.luke;"Don't diminish what we had."@@ You and Samantha exchange a look. The tension breaks and you both start laughing. @@.luke;"I'm watching you two,"@@ Luke says, narrowing his eyes. @@.luke;"There's something in the air, and it's not just sweat and cologne."@@ @@.samantha;"Don't you have a dance floor to go embarrass yourself on?"@@ Samantha says. Luke shrugs. @@.luke;"Not yet. I'm saving my energy for the cha-cha slide."@@ He shoves another cookie in his mouth and wanders off, humming to himself. You and Samantha stand there in the wake of his chaos, still a little flushed, still a little flustered. @@.player;"...Well,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"Well,"@@ she echoes. Your fingers don't reach for hers again. But they linger closer than they used to. <<else>>\ You spot Luke before he spots you. He's standing by the snack table like it's his personal altar, a paper plate in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other. He's mid-chew when his eyes catch yours. @@.luke;"You just danced!"@@ he exclaims the second his eyes catch yours. @@.luke;"And, like, I saw it! With my own eyes!"@@ Samantha, entirely unbothered, raises her eyebrows and gives a small shrug. @@.samantha;"Dude, relax. It was a friendly dance."@@ @@.luke;"A friendly—"@@ Luke cuts himself off with a dramatic scoff, as if such a concept is foreign to him. @@.luke;"No, no, no. You two? Dancing? In rhythm? That's no fashion, that's chorusgraphy."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"It wasn't that deep."@@ @@.luke;"You were on the dance floor!"@@ Luke insists. @@.luke;"$name and Samantha. Together. There was hand holding and everything, don't deny it."@@ @@.samantha;"I nearly tripped over his foot halfway through,"@@ Samantha says dryly. @@.samantha;"So yeah, deeply romantic."@@ Luke gives her a betrayed look, like his whole worldview has been shaken. @@.luke;"And you—"@@ he turns to you, waving his half-eaten cookie like a gavel. @@.luke;"I thought we were snack bros. And you go and waltz with Samantha before even sharing a cheese puff?"@@ @@.player;"I thought you'd want me to warm up before attempting the Snack Waltz,"@@ you say, pretending to be deadly serious. Luke considers this. @@.luke;"Okay... fair. But I'm still shocked that you danced with Samantha."@@ @@.samantha;"You're an idiot,"@@ Samantha says, slapping him lightly on the arm. Luke grins, unbothered. @@.luke;"The best one."@@ You shake your head, laughing. @@.player;"Don't worry. Your turn on the dance floor might come sooner than you think."@@ Luke stares into the distance. @@.luke;"As long as it comes with cookies."@@ @@.player;"You literally already have cookies."@@ He looks down at his plate like he just remembered. @@.luke;"Oh yeah."@@ Samantha reaches for a cup of punch. @@.samantha;"Anyway, it wasn't a big deal. Just a dance. I needed to get my steps in for the day."@@ @@.player;"Worth it,"@@ you say, taking your own drink and "clinking" it gently against Samantha's. @@.samantha;"Every step,"@@ she replies. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 16">><</button>>

Vincent's still at the mural wall. He's standing alone now, looking at the canvas. He's fiddling with the edge of his sleeve, twisting the fabric around his fingers. His eyes are glued to his shoes, as if they might run off if he looks away. You approach slowly and quietly, not wanting to startle him. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say softly. Vincent looks up, startled all the same. @@.vincent;"Oh! $name. I—"@@ He glances around. @@.vincent;"I thought you'd be... I don't know. Out there."@@ He nods toward the crowd. @@.vincent;"Dancing and being cool."@@ @@.player;"Not now,"@@ you say, smiling. Then you glance at his art. @@.player;"It's looking really good, by the way."@@ Vincent flushes slightly. @@.vincent;"Thanks. I wanted to add some more detail to the skyline, but I ran out of light grays, and I didn't want to mess it up with too much shadowing."@@ He trails off, then mumbles, @@.vincent;"That probably sounds dumb."@@ @@.player;"Not even a little,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I like that you care so much."@@ He glances up again, briefly locking eyes with you. There's something in them. Uncertainty, maybe. Or hope. You take a breath. Then you ask. @@.player;"Do you want to dance?"@@ Silence. Vincent blinks once. Then twice. His ears go red and his knuckles turn white. @@.vincent;"You... me?"@@ he says finally. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. It's a slow song. And I think I'd like it if it was with you."@@ He doesn't answer immediately. He looks down again, then away, and you see his throat bob as he swallows. @@.vincent;"I—I don't think I can,"@@ he says softly. Your smile wavers. @@.player;"Why not?"@@ He hesitates, fidgeting. @@.vincent;"I just..."@@ His voice dips low. @@.vincent;"I don't want people to say stuff. About you."@@ You furrow your brow. @@.player;"Say stuff?"@@ Vincent doesn't respond, instead opting to shrink in a little and make himself smaller. @@.player;"Vincent,"@@ you say gently. @@.player;"Say what?"@@ But he doesn't answer. You stand there with him for a moment. The music pulses behind you, slow and dreamy. The kind of song that should be shared. Still, you know this isn't rejection. It's something else, and you want to reach through. <<button "I don't care what people say. I want this" "Day 20 - Vincent Dance 2">>\<<set $d20vincentdance to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_vincent_convince" "I don't care what people say. I want this" "story">><</button>> <<button "I get it. If you're not ready, that's okay" "Day 20 - Vincent Dance 2">>\<<set $d20vincentdance to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_vincent_convince" "I get it. If you're not ready, that's okay" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20vincentdance is true>>\ You don't step away. Not yet. Instead, you meet Vincent's gaze and say, gently but clearly: @@.player;"I don't care what people say. I want this."@@ Vincent blinks. His mouth opens slightly, but nothing seems to come out. He looks almost startled, like he hadn't dared to imagine that kind of answer. You watch the way his fingers fidget with his sleeve, the nervous tic of someone who's been too used to folding into the background. He glances down, then to the side, then finally back at you. @@.vincent;"You sure?"@@ he asks, voice barely above a whisper. He's afraid that you might not mean it. That you're saying it out of pity. That maybe this will end up being another moment he regrets letting happen. You take a step closer and nod, firm and unwavering. @@.player;"I'm sure."@@ Vincent breathes out, shaky. His shoulders ease, just a little. You can see the storm begin to clear behind his eyes. Doubt still lingers on the edges, but hope is there too. A fragile thing, but there all the same. There's a long pause before he finally says it: @@.vincent;"Okay, then."@@ A grateful smile tugs at the corner of your lips and you hold out your hand. It's like the world slows down for just a moment as he stares at it. The invitation, the promise, the risk. And then his hand lifts as he slips his fingers into yours. They're cold at first, but they curl around yours gently, like he's learning how to be held. You give his hand a gentle squeeze, and when his eyes flick up to meet yours, you can see the nervous joy in them. Neither of you say anything as you start heading toward the dance floor. You wanted this, and so does he. <<button "Vincent's dance" "Day 20 - Vincent Dance 3">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ You study Vincent for a second longer. The way he won't look at you. The way he keeps retreating into himself, like he's shrinking behind invisible walls. You see the tension in his hands and shoulders. And you genuinely get it. So you soften your voice and say, @@.player;"I get it. If you're not ready, that's okay."@@ Vincent's eyes widen, caught off guard by the understanding in your voice. His lips part, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out right away. You offer him a small, honest smile. Not forced. Not bitter. @@.player;"I just wanted to ask because I thought it might be nice,"@@ you say. Vincent stares at you, guilt and gratitude warring on his face. @@.vincent;"I..."@@ he starts, then stops, then tries again. @@.vincent;"$name, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"@@ You hold up your hand. @@.player;"You didn't do anything wrong. You're allowed to feel how you feel."@@ Vincent swallows. His voice comes quieter now, almost cracking. @@.vincent;"I just... I don't want you to regret anything. And I'm scared I'd be the reason you did."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"I wouldn't regret dancing with you."@@ You give the mural one last look, then turn. But as you step away, you hear it. @@.vincent;"$name."@@ You glance back. Vincent's eyes are on you again, a little more raw now. @@.vincent;"Thanks for asking."@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 16">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $vincentRomance to Math.clamp($vincentRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You guide Vincent gently onto the dance floor, weaving between the other pairs as the music swells. Vincent walks beside you like he's about to be led to the gallows. His grip on your hand is tentative, and he's got a look as if he's a deer in the headlights. @@.vincent;"I don't know how to do this,"@@ he admits in a rush as you find an open space. His voice is tight, low enough that only you can hear. @@.vincent;"Like, at all. I've never really danced. Not like this."@@ You smile and let your free hand find its place on his shoulder. @@.player;"Then I'll teach you. Just follow my lead."@@ He hesitates again, but when you step gently into rhythm with the music, he does his best to mirror you. At first, it's awkward. His movements are stiff, his shoulders held too high. He keeps glancing at other people, at the floor, at your shoes, at everything. It's as if he's trying to make sure he's not about to trip or step on you or become a spectacle. But you don't rush him. You just guide him slowly. @@.player;"See?"@@ you murmur after a while. @@.player;"Not so bad."@@ @@.vincent;"You say that now,"@@ he mutters, lips twitching. @@.vincent;"Wait until I mess something up."@@ But he doesn't. In fact, after a minute or two, his grip relaxes. His shoulders drop slightly. He stops looking around as much and starts actually feeling the music, letting it carry him like a current instead of fighting it. The tension starts to bleed out of him. And as the song rises, Vincent actually starts to smile. It's the kind of smile that lights up his whole face, that you've only caught glimpses of when he thought no one was watching. And right now, it's just for you. @@.vincent;"I'm... kind of having fun,"@@ he admits, half-laughing, like he's shocked by his own words. @@.player;"Told you,"@@ you say. The second verse of the song comes, and the lights dim. You both step closer. It's not conscious, not planned. You just move inward, drawn together like the music itself has tugged on some invisible strings. Vincent's hand comes to rest at your waist naturally, and yours find his shoulders again. His forehead almost grazes yours. His breath is warm against your cheek. You hear him swallow. For a moment, everything stills. You're wrapped in this tiny bubble. It's just the two of you, close enough to feel each other's breath. He looks at you. Not past you or around you. Directly at you. And you get the sense that he's waiting for something. Maybe for you. <<button "So... are all nerds this good at sweeping people off their feet?" "Day 20 - Vincent Dance 4">>\<<set $d20vincentdance1 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_vincent_rizz" true "rel">><</button>> <<button "I'm glad I asked you" "Day 20 - Vincent Dance 4">>\<<set $d20vincentdance1 to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_vincent_rizz" false "rel">><</button>>

<<if $d20vincentdance1 is true>>\ @@.player;"So..."@@ you begin, leaning in to be close enough that your voice won't have to travel far. @@.player;"Are all nerds this good at sweeping people off their feet?"@@ His eyes go wide. @@.vincent;"Wh—what?"@@ he stammers. @@.vincent;"Sweep you off your feet? I didn't—I wasn't—"@@ He cuts himself off, cheeks turning a bright, impossible pink as he looks everywhere but at you. @@.vincent;"What did I do???"@@ @@.player;"You danced with me,"@@ you stay simply, still smiling. He opens his mouth then closes it. His brow furrows like he's working out a complex equation, then he mutters, @@.vincent;"I mean, I—I guess I did do that..."@@ You give him a look, tilting your head. @@.player;"Not even denying the nerd part, huh?"@@ @@.vincent;"No,"@@ Vincent says without hesitation. @@.vincent;"That part's... very true."@@ He's still red in the face, he won't quite meet your eyes, and he doesn't know where the hell to put all this sudden attention. It's clear he's not used to being flirted with, let alone during a slow dance in front of half the school. @@.vincent;"I'm not trying to sweep anyone anywhere,"@@ he mumbles. @@.vincent;"You're the one who dragged me out here."@@ @@.player;"Dragged is a strong word,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"You had that determined look. It was like I didn't have a choice."@@ @@.player;"You didn't."@@ Vincent huffs a laugh. @@.vincent;"Then I guess I'm guilty. Nerd and romantic. What a combo."@@ @@.player;"You're also kind of adorable,"@@ you add casually. He almost trips over his own feet. @@.vincent;"Okay, okay. You can't just say stuff like that while I'm trying not to step on you,"@@ he says, half-laughing, half-panicking. @@.player;"Too late,"@@ you whisper. <<else>>\ Vincent's fingers twitch slightly against your waist, and his eyes flick down for just a second before meeting yours again. @@.player;"I'm glad I asked you,"@@ you say quietly. His expression softens, and a small smile forms on his face. @@.vincent;"Yeah?"@@ he asks, voice low. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ For a moment, there's no need to say more. You just keep moving together in time with the song. Vincent doesn't try to fill the silence with words or shrink away. He just holds on and lets the moment linger, comfortable in a way that's new for him. @@.vincent;"Thanks for not giving up on me when I froze up earlier,"@@ he says, looking up at you. @@.player;"I wouldn't,"@@ you say, like it's the easiest truth in the world. Vincent doesn't reply right away, but the hand on your side settles more confidently. The next time the two of you turn with the music, his steps are smoother. You're still leading, but now he's right there with you, matching the rhythm, his head tilted slightly toward yours. It's not romantic, but it does matter. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Vincent Dance 5">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D20homecomingVincent">>\ The music fades into something livelier behind you as the two of you step off the dance floor together. The soft gym lights shimmer overhead, catching in Vincent's glasses as he adjusts them with one nervous hand. The other is still fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, fingers curling around the fabric like it might anchor him back to earth. You nudge his arm lightly with your elbow. @@.player;"So,"@@ you ask, tilting your head toward him, @@.player;"how was your first dance?"@@ Vincent stiffens. @@.vincent;"I mean, it was fine. It was more than fine, actually. I didn't trip! That's always a win. And you're, um, you're really good at leading. And the music wasn't too fast, which helped. The lighting didn't feel too harsh and there weren't any strobe lights or anything so it wasn't, like, overstimulating, or, uh..."@@ He trails off, catching himself, eyes blinking wide as the words keep spilling out. @@.vincent;"I mean, I thought it would be really awkward, but it wasn't. It was actually kinda nice. Like, really nice. Like, I didn't want it to end, even though most slow songs are only like three to four minutes—"@@ And then he stops. His brain catches up with what you said, and his mouth freezes mid-sentence. @@.vincent;"...Wait,"@@ he says slowly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. @@.vincent;"I never actually said this was my first dance."@@ You raise your brows at him as your lips curl into a knowing grin. @@.player;"It was kinda obvious."@@ Vincent groans softly, running a hand down his face. @@.vincent;"Ugh. You got me."@@ @@.player;"I mean, it wasn't hard to tell,"@@ you tease. @@.player;"The sleeve fidgeting, the panic-blushing, the way you almost fled when I first asked..."@@ @@.vincent;"I was ''not'' going to flee,"@@ he protests, though he's clearly flustered. @@.vincent;"I was gonna... briskly walk away. With dignity!"@@ @@.player;"Mhm,"@@ you say, drawing out the sound like you don't believe him for a second. Vincent lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. @@.vincent;"Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad I didn't."@@ You both fall into a comfortable silence for a beat, the sound of music and chatter filling the space behind you. It's warm, it's perfect, and yet, it feels strangely magical. Vincent glances over at you, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. @@.vincent;"Thanks for asking me. I really mean it."@@ You flash him a grin. @@.player;"Anytime."@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 16">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 20>>\ <<set $pants to 0>>\ The light leaking through your curtains is the kind that makes it hard to tell what time it is. For a moment, you're not even sure if you're awake. You just lie there, flat on your back, eyes barely open. You groan and shift under the blanket, half-kicking it off as you blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. You knock some stuff over before your fingers find it. You squint at the screen. ''8:41 AM.'' Your heart stutters. That's late. That's so late. School's already halfway into first period. @@.player;"Shit,"@@ you breathe, bolting upright. The blankets tangle around your ankles as you scramble out of bed. Your pajama pants get caught under your heel and you nearly trip trying to shake them off. You snatch your favorite pair of cargo shorts from a chair and step into them one leg at a time, hopping in place to pull them up. @@.player;"Mom!"@@ you shout toward the door, voice cracking. @@.player;"Why didn't you wake me up?! I'm gonna be late. Seriously, I'm so late."@@ You start grabbing at your pajama top's hem while rummaging for a top, everything still fuzzy around the edges. @@.player;"Mom!"@@ You hear the soft shuffle of slippers against the hallway floor for a moment before the door creaks open. Your mom appears, holding a mug of coffee in both hands. She's wearing her thick robe, the old one she's had for years, a pair of reading glasses propped up on her head. Her expression is somewhere between confusion and amusement. She leans into the doorway and takes one long look at you. You're half-dressed, your hair is everywhere, you have no socks on, and you're clutching a rumpled white T-shirt like your life depends on it. She raises her eyebrows. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ she say, smiling gently. @@.girl;"Sweetheart. It's Saturday."@@ You freeze. @@.player;"...What?"@@ @@.girl;"It's Saturday,"@@ she says again, clearly trying not to laugh. @@.girl;"There's no school today. You went to the game last night, remember?"@@ You just stand there, holding the T-shirt in one hand, your pajama top barely on, your cargo shorts sitting crooked on your hips. Your brain spins its wheels like it's still trying to catch up. Hold up, you //did// go to the game. Last night wasn't a dream. And if that was yesterday... You blink. @@.player;"Oh."@@ <<button "So... not late?" "Day 20 - 2">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d20homecomingfirst is 0>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc1 is 0>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ Luke is halfway through some more food when you glance down at his outfit again. And now that you're actually paying attention, it hits you in full clarity. This is exactly what he wears to school every day. @@.player;"Luke,"@@ you say. He pauses mid-chew, blinking at you. @@.luke;"Yeah?"@@ @@.player;"You know this is a formal event, right?"@@ He frowns like he's confused. @@.luke;"It is?"@@ You gesture vaguely to the string lights, the tablecloths, the students in dresses and button-downs and nice shoes. @@.player;"Yes! It's Homecoming. People got their hair done for this."@@ Luke looks around, as if noticing all the attire for the first time. @@.luke;"Huh,"@@ he says, then shrugs. @@.luke;"Still. I think I look pretty good."@@ You raise your eyebrows. @@.player;"You are wearing a dog shirt."@@ He points at it proudly. @@.luke;"A cool dog shirt."@@ @@.player;"It literally has sunglasses and a baseball cap put on backward."@@ @@.luke;"That's formal,"@@ he insists. @@.luke;"The sunglasses are classy."@@ You stare at him. @@.luke;"Also, this guy gets me,"@@ he says, tapping the dog's face. @@.luke;"He's free. He's confident. He doesn't let society tell him what to wear. He just barks and runs and lives his truth."@@ @@.player;"You're literally just describing yourself."@@ @@.luke;"Exactly! That's why I wore it. It's symbolic, you see."@@ @@.player;"Well, if it makes you happy..."@@ you murmur. @@.luke;"I was gonna wear my tuxedo T-shirt but I couldn't find it,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Would that have been any better?"@@ @@.player;"Maybe if it was an actual tuxedo, not a T-shirt,"@@ you say. You try and be serious, but you can't help but laugh. Standing here with Luke and his ridiculous shirt, your face warm from laughter and your ribs aching a little, you're glad you attended this party. <<elseif $d20homecomingfc1 is 1>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Luke is still going to town on the snack table, oblivious to the passing of time. He's frowning at the tray with baby carrots. You watch him for a second, the way he hums under his breath, the way he's always next to you. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say. He looks up immediately. @@.luke;"Yeah?"@@ You hesitate, then shake your head a little, smiling softly. @@.player;"I just... wanted to say thanks."@@ Luke blinks. @@.luke;"For what?"@@ @@.player;"Y'know, for being around,"@@ you say. @@.player;"For being here. For always being here, really."@@ His brows knit, just for a second, like he's trying to figure out if this is some kind of weird joke. But something in your tone must land, because his expression softens. @@.luke;"Dude, of course I'm around,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"We've been best friends since, like, second grade. Remember when you hurt your arm at recess and I tried to drag you to the nurse's office by your backpack?"@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Oh, I remember. You nearly choked me."@@ @@.luke;"I was trying to help,"@@ he says, mock-defensive. You smile wider, but shake your head again. @@.player;"I know. I just mean... I don't know. People change. Stuff gets weird. It's just nice, that we're still..."@@ Luke grins. @@.luke;"Still dumbasses?"@@ @@.player;"I was going to say still us, but alright."@@ He looks at you for a second, then nudges your arm. @@.luke;"Always, man. You're stuck with me."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say quietly, voice dipping a little. Luke's smile turns more sincere at that. He doesn't say anything right away, but the silence feels full rather than awkward. He just stands beside you, content to be there, like he always is. Like he always has been. In a time where everything seems to be changing, your relationship with Luke hasn't gone anywhere. <<elseif $d20homecomingfc1 is 2>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You munch on the chips and glance at Luke as he bites into yet another cookie with absolutely no shame. He looks euphoric as he keeps nomming on food. Some people are giving him dirty looks, but he doesn't seem to notice. There's a buzz in your chest you can't quite place. Maybe it's because of the way Luke keeps looking at you with that easy warmth, like the whole world is still as simple as it used to be. You watch him for a second longer, then turn slightly, your voice casual. @@.player;"So..."@@ you start, @@.player;"you ever... I don't know. Think about people you wouldn't expect yourself to like?"@@ Luke blinks, mid-chew. @@.luke;"What do you mean?"@@ @@.player;"Someone you've known forever,"@@ you say, watching him closely. @@.player;"Who already knows all your weird habits. Doesn't need to impress you."@@ He thinks, then pops a cheese puff into his mouth, then continues thinking. @@.luke;"I mean, I guess? That could be cool. Less pressure, right?"@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"And like... if they were someone you already liked being around. Someone who got you."@@ Luke finally looks up, squinting at you like he's trying to follow a conversation he didn't realize was happening. @@.luke;"Wait, are you talking about someone right now? Or is this, like, hypothetical. 'Cause I'm not dating Samantha."@@ You smile, just a little. @@.player;"Hypothetical."@@ He shrugs. @@.luke;"Sure, then yeah. I'd be open to it. I dunno. It depends. There's a lot of weird energy with childhood friends, though. Since you grew up together, y'know?"@@ You look away for a second, studying the snacks on the table. @@.luke;"But, if we still get each other after all that... I mean, that's kind of rare, right?"@@ he adds. You glance back up, meeting his eyes again. He just grins, totally unbothered. @@.luke;"I'd totally date a childhood friend. Especially if she was cute."@@ You blink. @@.luke;"I mean, that's kind of a requirement,"@@ he clarifies. Your heart gives a quiet little twist at that, though you don't show it. You nod again, slowly, lips pressing into a smile. Luke downs a cup of punch in one gulp and immediately turns to scan the refreshment table again. @@.luke;"Think they've got more meatballs?"@@ he mutters. He hasn't figured it out. Not yet, anyway. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 11">><</button>> <<elseif $d20homecomingfirst is 1>>\ <<if $d18shop is 3>>\ Samantha claps her hands together suddenly, loud enough to cut through the hum of music and chatter. @@.samantha;"Enough standing around! We're taking a group photo."@@ You raise an eyebrow, amused by the sudden declaration. Jessica just laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. @@.jessica;"Honestly? I was hoping you'd say that. I've already taken, like, a hundred photos, but none with you two yet."@@ Samantha gives her a sideways look. @@.samantha;"Wow. Guess we're the leftovers, $name."@@ Jessica shrugs. @@.jessica;"The best leftovers I've ever seen."@@ You snort, and Samantha just rolls her eyes with a smile, clearly pleased anyway. @@.samantha;"C'mon, losers. Let's make it iconic."@@ The three of you weave through the crowd around th e booth, sidestepping a pair of students in matching glittery outfits who are doing a dramatic pose in front of the camera. Near the entrance is a low table overflowing with props, all a little chaotic. Feather boas, sunglasses with LED lights, oversized plastic microphones, neon wigs, and more. A few props are already on the floor, trampled in the excitement, but the table's still bursting with options. You slow down in front of it, eyes scanning over the choices. The two that stand out to you are the flower crown and the fake mustache on a stick. You reach toward the table, hovering for a second. <<button "A flower crown" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_photobooth_decoration" "flower crown" "story">><</button>> <<button "A fake mustache on a stick" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_photobooth_decoration" "fake mustache" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc1 is 0>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $samanthaRomance to Math.clamp($samanthaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $jessicaRelo < 30 and $d11joinCheerleaders is false>>\ You glance at the crowd again. The photo booth is still a mess. There's glitter, squeals, someone shouting about angles, and a guy waving two feather boas around. But with Jessica still there, laughing like she belongs in the middle of it all, it all seems okay. Samantha lets out another quiet sigh beside you, not dramatic, just resigned. Her fingers toy with her bracelet. You look at her, then at the booth, then back again. @@.player;"C'mon,"@@ you say, straightening your jacket. @@.player;"Let's get you that photo."@@ Samantha blinks. @@.samantha;"Wait, seriously?"@@ You're already stepping forward, easing through the cluster of people. Someone brushes past your shoulder, another person cuts in front of you at the last second, but you keep moving and pushing. Samantha follows you, grinning now. @@.samantha;"You're actually doing this?"@@ @@.player;"We'll be quick,"@@ you say over your shoulder. @@.player;"In and out."@@ When you finally reach the front, Jessica is adjusting a flower crown on one of her friends, laughing at something someone else said. She turns at the movement, her smile already halfway there out of habit, until she sees you. She doesn't look upset at all. Just surprised. @@.jessica;"Hi,"@@ she says, blinking. @@.jessica;"Um. Sorry, are you trying to...?"@@ @@.player;"Just trying to grab a quick photo,"@@ you say. Your voice is calm and polite, but firm enough to claim space. Jessica tilts her head. @@.jessica;"Oh. Okay. Sure, yeah."@@ It's not rude or mean. But it's definitely the voice of someone who can't quite remember your name. And who maybe wasn't expecting to speak to you tonight. She steps aside. Her friends follow without protest, scattering around. You catch a flicker of confusion in Jessica's eyes as she watches you and Samantha step up toward the booth. Yet, she offers a small smile as she backs up. Samantha, on the other hand, is glowing. @@.samantha;"I cannot believe you just did that,"@@ she says, trying not to laugh. @@.samantha;"That was ''so'' awkward."@@ You look at her sideways. @@.player;"You're welcome."@@ She snorts. @@.samantha;"Totally worth it."@@ You duck into the booth area together, look at the props, and decide what to pick. <<else>>\ You glance at Samantha. Her eyes are fixed on the crowd, but she lets out a little sigh of disappointment. The photo booth is a mess of glitter and laughter and too many people in too small a space, but you can see the opening. Not a big one, but enough. And you make the decision. @@.player;"I've got this,"@@ you say, already stepping forward. Samantha turns to you, surprised. @@.samantha;"Wait, seriously?"@@ @@.player;"Stay here,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'll clear a path."@@ She doesn't argue. You weave your way through the outer circle first and keep moving, slipping between open spots and sidestepping a wandering balloon. When you get closer to the booth, the crowd thickens, but not enough to stop you. You feel someone brush your shoulder, catch a fragment of a joke mid-laugh, and then finally make your way to Jessica. She's near the center, holding a glittery sign above her hand, her other arm looped through one of her friend's as they pose for yet another shot. She sees you almost instantly and her whole face lights up with recognition. @@.jessica;"$name!"@@ she calls out, immediately lowering the sign. @@.jessica;"Hey!"@@ The people around her shift slightly, curious, some turning to see who she's talking to. Jessica squeezes her way over, stepping out of the booth area to meet you halfway, brushing a feather boa off her shoulder. @@.jessica;"Oh my God, I'm so sorry,"@@ she says, genuine and a little breathless. @@.jessica;"We've completely taken over this spot. I got caught up with everyone and I forgot other people want photos too."@@ You shake your head, smiling. @@.player;"It's fine. We just wanted a quick one."@@ @@.jessica;"Well, come on then,"@@ she says, already waving you forward, calling to her friends to make some room. @@.jessica;"You should've said something sooner."@@ The crowd parts a little under her direction, just enough for you to slip back and get Samantha. She looks stunned for half a second, like she can't quite believe it worked. Then she moves fast, darting toward you through the space you cleared. When she reaches your side, her smile is subtle but unmistakable. Samantha leans slightly toward you, whispering under your breath. @@.samantha;"You're magic."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Just lucky."@@ You duck into the booth area together, look at the props, and decide what to pick. <</if>>\ <<button "A flower crown" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_photobooth_decoration" "flower crown" "story">><</button>> <<button "A fake mustache on a stick" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_photobooth_decoration" "fake mustache" "story">><</button>> <<elseif $d20homecomingfc1 is 1>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You stand beside Samantha for a moment, watching the scene at the photo booth unfold in waves. Flash after flash of poses, laughter, rustling, and the shuffle of people squeezing in or being pulled into group shots. Jessica is at the center of it all, like always. But for everyone else, it's bottlenecked chaos. Samantha's arms are still folded, but you can tell she's measuring her own patience against the wall of people standing in her way. She isn't pouting or complaining, she wouldn't, but her jaw's a little tight. Her fingers are tapping lightly against her elbow. Her eyes haven't left the photo booth once. You think about squeezing in. About waiting it out. About maybe elbowing your way past the noise and glitter to stake some kind of quiet claim to a few square feet of space. But it just all feels so unnecessary. You turn to her. @@.player;"We can get a photo later, Samantha."@@ She looks at you, blinking like she's not sure she heard you right. You offer a small shrug. @@.player;"No point forcing it right now."@@ She exhales slowly through her nose and looks back at the crowd. @@.samantha;"Yeah,"@@ Samantha mutters, after a beat. @@.samantha;"Later."@@ But it's not really in agreement. Her voice is a little flat. She's not angry, just disappointed. She keeps watching the booth for a few seconds longer, and then looks down at the floor, adjusting her bracelet. You don't say anything else, and neither does she. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 13">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<elseif $d20homecomingfirst is 2>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc1 is 0>>\ You glance over at Vincent, still perched on the edge of the bleachers, fingers absently tracing the corner of his sketchbook. His shoulders are hunched like he's trying to disappear into himself, even though he's here. But fuck, he showed up. That has to count for something. The gym is alive around you. Bass-heavy music pulses faintly through the floor, but here, up in the corner, it feels like you're a world away. You watch him for a moment longer, the way his eyes flick around the room without landing on anything for too long. Always watching, never really being seen. So you reach out your hand. He looks at it like it's a foreign object. @@.vincent;"What are you doing?"@@ @@.player;"C'mon,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"Let's go. Just for a little bit."@@ @@.vincent;"Go where?"@@ he asks, brows knitting. @@.player;"Down there. To... you know. Join the thing we came to."@@ @@.vincent;"I don't—"@@ Vincent stops himself. He lets out a quiet breath through his nose and closes his sketchbook. @@.vincent;"$name, I'm not really... the kind of person who just walks into the center of things."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But maybe just for tonight... you could try being someone who does."@@ He hesitates. @@.vincent;"I don't think I'm brave like that."@@ You tilt your head. @@.player;"That's funny. Because coming here alone seems kind of brave to me."@@ That makes him pause. He bites the inside of his cheek, then gives you a look. It's uncertain, sure, but soft. Slowly, he slips his hands into yours. His palm is cold. You give it a gentle squeeze. As you guide him down the steps, he moves like he's walking into deep water. You can feel the tension in his grip, like he's waiting for someone to turn, to point, to laugh. But no one does. The crowd just ebbs and flows around you, too caught up in their own little universes to notice. Someone brushes past, and Vincent flinches. You glance back at him and catch the way he winces, like he's trying to preemptively shrink under any attention. But then, from the corner of your eye, you notice someone you've seen around the hallways give him a nod. Another kid passes by and says, @@.girl;"Nice sketchbook."@@ Vincent doesn't respond in time, but his eyes go wide. @@.vincent;"They... saw me,"@@ he mumbles, almost in disbelief. You smile, trying to keep it casual. @@.player;"Yeah. You're not invisible, Vinny."@@ He still looks stunned. @@.vincent;"I don't know what I expected. I guess I thought people would think it was weird. Me being here. Or I dunno... try to make a joke of it."@@ @@.player;"People are nicer than you give them credit for."@@ @@.vincent;"I guess."@@ His voice is quieter now, the nervous edge to it gone. @@.vincent;"It's just... easier not to expect that."@@ You lead him through the crowd. Not to the center of it, of course, but close enough that the music wraps around you and the lights catch on the frames of his glasses. He doesn't let go of your hand. You don't let go of his. And gradually, you see the tension ease out of his frame. He's still stiff and clearly outside of his comfort zone, but there's something different now. His eyes are a little brighter. His gaze doesn't dart away as quickly. @@.vincent;"Thanks,"@@ he murmurs after a while, just barely audible over the music. You look over. @@.player;"For what?"@@ @@.vincent;"For making me show up,"@@ he says, a little awkwardly. @@.vincent;"For not letting me sit alone the whole time. For reminding me I exist, I guess."@@ You nudge him lightly with your elbow. @@.player;"You're welcome."@@ He smiles at that. And for a second, you both just stand there in the middle of the noise. Not part of the spotlight, sure, but not hiding either. <<button "Admit you're not totally comfortable either" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Get closer to Vincent" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 1>>\<</button>> <<elseif $d20homecomingfc1 is 1>>\ You lean back, the dance floor thudding somewhere past the gym doors. The gym feels miles away here. Vincent sits hunched beside you, his pencil moving in small strokes across the paper. Curious, you tilt your head. @@.player;"So... how'd you get into drawing?"@@ He doesn't answer at first. The pencil lifts, hangs, then drops again. A curve becomes hair while a smudge becomes the shine of a jacket. @@.vincent;"History,"@@ he says finally. @@.vincent;"Weird, I know. Don't judge."@@ You blink. @@.player;"That's not what I thought you'd say."@@ He gives a small laugh. @@.vincent;"No one does. But it's true. History was my first obsession, as you might've guessed. Coins, old uniforms, the way clothes meant something back then. powdered wigs, velvet robes. I loved that people wore entire stories on their backs."@@ He hesitates, then sets his pencil down, almost like this next part demands both hands. @@.vincent;"But the art part? That was Paris."@@ @@.player;"Hmm?"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"I was ten. My parents dragged me to the Louvre, and I was being a total brat about it. I wanted knights in armor, castles, you know, the cool stuff. Instead we turn a corner and boom. //The Coronation of Napoleon.//"@@ His hands spread wide, eyes bright now. @@.vincent;"Let me tell you $name, it's enormous. Like, it swallows you whole. Six meters tall, nearly ten wide. A whole wall of people in robes and gold and magnificent light. I remember just... stopping. I was tiny back then, but this was the first time I truly felt small. It was like I'd been let into something bigger than me."@@ He leans forward, voice soft but alive. @@.vincent;"What's wild is that it's not the scene everyone talks about. Napoleon did crown himself that day, but Jacques-Louis David, the painter, didn't show that. In the painting, Napoleon's holding the crown over his wife Joséphine, making //her// empress. The Pope's right there behind them, blessing it all. Every detail is precise. Joséphine kneeling, Napoleon standing, the Pope watching."@@ He pauses, then grins a little sheepishly. @@.vincent;"I was a kid, but I couldn't stop staring."@@ You watch his hands move unconsciously, sketching shapes in the air as he talks. @@.vincent;"What I learned later was that David cheated. He painted Napoleon's mother in the audience, even though she wasn't there. Letizia Bonaparte refused to attend the coronation. She was estranged from Joséphine and objected to the marriage. But on that canvas, she's front and center, like the proudest mom alive."@@ He shakes his head, smiling in disbelief. @@.vincent;"That's when it clicked for me. History tells you what happened. Art decides how it's remembered."@@ For a moment he's quiet, looking down at his sketchpad, and when he glances back at you there's a certain softness in his eyes. @@.vincent;"I think that's why I draw,"@@ he says shyly. @@.vincent;"Not to copy what's there, but to catch the bit that matters. The thing that'll stick when everything else fades."@@ @@.player;"That's... actually beautiful,"@@ you say. Vincent flushes, ears pink, and quickly spins his pencil between his fingers like he can hide behind the motion. @@.vincent;"Thanks, $name. I was worried it was silly."@@ @@.player;"It's not,"@@ you tell him. And the way his smile flickers makes you sure he believes you, even if just a little. <<button "Why aren't you in the AP Art class again?" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_vincent_compliment" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "You ever think about being the one who teaches this stuff someday?" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_vincent_compliment" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "You know, we could totally visit a museum together sometime" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_vincent_compliment" 2 "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<elseif $d20homecomingfirst is 3>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc1 is 0>>\ <<if $jordanRelo > 49>>\ You approach slowly, giving them space, but when Jordan glances up and spots you, his whole expression shifts. His mouth twitches into something that could be a smirk or a smile, and he tips his chin up in that way he always does when he's glad to see you but doesn't want to make a big deal about it. @@.jordan;"Hey,"@@ he says. His voice is warm in a way most people never get to hear. Aurora follows his gaze and gives you a look that's hard to read but not unfriendly. @@.aurora;"I'll let you two catch up,"@@ she murmurs before disappearing into the crowd. Jordan's still watching you. <<if $jordanRomance > 9>>\ @@.jordan;"You clean up nice,"@@ he says, eyes flicking over your suit. @@.jordan;"Not that you don't always look good."@@ You snort a little at that. @@.player;"You're feeling bold tonight."@@ @@.jordan;"Must be the punch,"@@ he replies dryly, nudging his shoulder lightly against yours. <<else>>\ @@.jordan;"Looking sharp,"@@ he says, eyes flicking over your suit. You snort a little at that. @@.player;"What, wanna borrow it?"@@ @@.jordan;"Don't think it'd fit me,"@@ he replies dryly. <</if>>\ You glance at him. @@.player;"You and Aurora were talking about theater, I assume?"@@ @@.jordan;"Plays, yeah,"@@ he says, casually. @@.jordan;"She says she's gone to watch one. Can you believe that? I didn't expect her of all people to be into theater."@@ @@.player;"Well, she's full of surprises,"@@ you say with a laugh. @@.player;"Let me guess, you brought up something loud and full of light."@@ @@.jordan;"//Newsies//,"@@ he says, then adds quickly, @@.jordan;"C'mon, $name. Don't make that face."@@ @@.player;"I didn't make a face!"@@ @@.jordan;"You were //about// to make a face."@@ You're still grinning when you nudge him gently. @@.player;"It's just surprising, hearing you talk about stuff like that with someone who isn't me."@@ He shrugs, and for a moment, it seems like he's not going to say anything else. But then: @@.jordan;"She treated me like a person,"@@ he says, voice low. @@.jordan;"Not like a mystery. Not like 'the football star quarterback' or whatever."@@ He pauses, jaw tight. @@.jordan;"That... doesn't happen a lot."@@ You look at him, really look, and it hits you again how much Jordan carries around without saying it. How much of himself he hides behind all the bark and snark. @@.player;"You're more than that,"@@ you say, without even thinking. @@.player;"You always have been."@@ His eyes flick toward you, and something shifts there. Something unspoken and warm and incredibly vulnerable. @@.jordan;"I know you think that,"@@ he says quietly. @@.jordan;"It's one of the reasons I like being around you."@@ The music shifts into a slower beat. The air's thick with the smell of punch and sugar and cologne. You glance at him again, and for once, he's not glaring. Not faking cool. Just there, beside you. <<button "Tell him you're glad he opens up with you" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_jordan_compliment" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Tease him for being a softie in disguise" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_jordan_compliment" 1 "story">><</button>> <<elseif $jordanRelo > 29>> You are ''really'' curious. You approach slowly, giving them space, but when Jordan glances up and spots you, something in his posture shifts. He doesn't stiffen. He doesn't scowl. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, offering a small wave. @@.player;"Didn't mean to interrupt."@@ @@.jordan;"Well, you're already here,"@@ he says, not moving away. @@.jordan;"Might as well stay."@@ Aurora smiles faintly, gives you a tiny nod, then slips off, disappearing into the crowd like fog dissolving. You step up beside Jordan, shoulder to shoulder now, both of you facing the chaos of the gym like you're on the outside of it. He lets out a low breath and mutters, @@.jordan;"She's good at that."@@ @@.player;"At what? Being scary?"@@ you ask, a little amused. He huffs. @@.jordan;"At not being annoying."@@ You let the silence sit for a moment before glancing at him. @@.player;"So... you were talking about theater, I assume?"@@ He gives you a side-eye. @@.jordan;"Don't say it like it's weird."@@ @@.player;"I didn't,"@@ you respond. @@.player;"It's just that you usually growl when someone asks you about your favorite play."@@ He snorts, looking down at the floor for a second before replying. @@.jordan;"She asked about //Newsies//. I told her I liked how alive it was. Like... loud, but hopeful, you know? She actually got it."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Wow. You said all that without calling her a dumbass and storming off."@@ Jordan elbows you lightly. @@.jordan;"Shut up."@@ You smile, and then after a pause, ask what's been tugging at your thoughts since you walked over. @@.player;"Why'd you open up to her, though? You're usually, like... full hostile mode with everyone else."@@ He doesn't answer right away. His gaze stays fixed on the dance floor before he finally says: @@.jordan;"She treated me like a person,"@@ he says quietly. @@.jordan;"Not like some mystery to figure out or the football star quarterback. Just... a guy. Who likes plays."@@ You blink. That's not what you expected, but... it's very him. Underneath all the defenses and snappiness, Jordan's just a little tired of being seen as anything but himself. The music shifts into a slower beat. The air's thick with the smell of punch and sugar and cologne. You glance at him again, and for once, he's not glaring. Not faking cool. Just there, beside you. <<button "Tell him you're glad he opens up with you" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_jordan_compliment" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Tease him for being a softie in disguise" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_jordan_compliment" 1 "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ You square your shoulders, inhale, and step forward. You're not even sure why, exactly. Curiosity, maybe. Or the sheer surrealness of seeing Jordan holding a full-on conversation with someone. You've never really talked to him before. Still, something about this moment feels... open. Like if Jordan can talk to Aurora, maybe he's not as closed-off as everyone thinks. You edge a little closer. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say casually, trying not to sound awkward. @@.player;"Didn't expect to see you over here."@@ Jordan turns his head slowly, and there's a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. @@.jordan;"What?"@@ he says flatly. Aurora glances at you, then at Jordan. She doesn't say anything. Just watches. You try again, a little smaller. @@.player;"Just saying hi."@@ Jordan blinks at you. @@.jordan;"Okay. Hi. You can go now."@@ You let out a short breath to try and soften the tension, but he doesn't crack. Doesn't even pretend to smile. He just shifts his weight against the wall and crosses his arms like you've intruded on something you shouldn't have seen. @@.jordan;"Can't you see I'm having a conversation here?"@@ he says. He isn't being mean, exactly, but just blunt. Like he doesn't have the energy to coat it in anything nicer. You blink. @@.player;"Right. Sorry."@@ You step back, awkwardness bubbling in your chest. You don't know where to put your hands, where to look. You glance at Aurora again, but she doesn't say anything. She just lifts a brow slightly, unreadable as ever. You nod stiffly. @@.player;"I'll let you get back to it."@@ Maybe not everyone's in the mood to make new friends tonight. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 13">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<elseif $d20homecomingfc1 is 1>>\ You make your way over slowly, unsure if you're interrupting something important. Jordan and Aurora don't seem like the pair to spend time together, but there they are. You hesitate for a moment, then takes a few steps closer. As soon as Jordan notices you, he straightens. His eyes flick briefly from you to Aurora, then back again. @@.jordan;"Anyway,"@@ he mutters, voice quiet enough that it's probably meant for her. @@.jordan;"I'll catch you later."@@ Aurora gives the tiniest nod as he peels away from the wall and disappears into the crowd. You're left standing there as she continues to look at nothing in particular, like she hadn't noticed you yet. But of course she has. You clear your throat. @@.player;"Hey."@@ She turns your head slowly, like she already knew you were coming. @@.aurora;"Evening, $name."@@ @@.player;"You... knew I was coming?"@@ @@.aurora;"No,"@@ she says, then glances down at your boots. @@.aurora;"But you walk loud."@@ You blink, then laugh softly. @@.player;"Fair enough."@@ You pause, glancing at the space where Jordan just was. @@.player;"So! What were the two of you chatting about?"@@ Aurora gives you a little smirk, eyes glinting. @@.aurora;"Wouldn't you like to know?"@@ @@.player;"...Yeah. That's why I asked."@@ She doesn't answer at first. Just folds her arms loosely in front of her and watches you, as if weighing something in her mind. Then, finally: @@.aurora;"Nothing scandalous, if that's what you're wondering. Just thoughts about masks. About wanting to be seen, but not looked at."@@ You furrow your brow. @@.player;"That's a very you answer."@@ @@.aurora;"I should hope so."@@ You lean against the wall beside her, letting your eyes wander briefly across the crowd. People are dancing, laughing, and just existing in that way that feels impossibly big and small all at once. @@.player;"But seriously,"@@ you say after a beat. @@.player;"Why Jordan?"@@ Aurora tilts her head slightly, eyes narrowing just a tough. @@.aurora;"Why not?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"He's just not the type I'd expect you to open up to. Or vise versa, really. I mean, he's got a reputation. You've got your whole..."@@ You gesture vaguely. @@.player;"Witch thing."@@ She smiles at that. @@.aurora;"I talked to him because he wasn't afraid of me,"@@ she says simply. @@.player;"Is that rare?"@@ you ask. Aurora hums softly. @@.aurora;"You'd be surprised how many people claim to be open-minded, curious, or adventurous. And yet, when they meet someone who doesn't quite play by the rules they've quietly agreed upon, they flinch. Just a little. They don't even know they're doing it. But he didn't."@@ @@.player;"That's kind of cool, actually,"@@ you admit. @@.aurora;"I thought so,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Though he did ask a few very stupid questions about tarot cards."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Sounds about right."@@ She finally looks over at you fully, head tilted, expression unreadable again. @@.aurora;"And you, $name? Do //you// flinch?"@@ <<button "You do" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_aurora_flinch" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "You don't" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_aurora_flinch" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Cut the crap, Aurora" "Day 20 - 11">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_aurora_flinch" 2 "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d20homecomingfirst is 0>>\ Luke continues piling snacks onto his paper plate like he's on a mission. You've lost count of how many cookies he's had by now. Somewhere around five, maybe six. He's got a new cup of punch, already half-empty, and he's talking between bites about whether or not pizza counts as a vegetable (the tomato sauce counts, right?). You're half-listening, mostly amused, watching him work his way through a mountain of cheese puffs. Then she appears. @@.girl;"Excuse me,"@@ says a voice, sharp and precise. You both look up. The student council president stands in front of you, clipboard in hand. Her black blazer is fitted perfectly over a navy dress, her long hair clipped neatly behind one ear. She wears a small Pacific Crest pin on her lapel and her expression is not amused. She adjusts her glasses slightly and looks straight at Luke. @@.girl;"Can you not eat all the cookies?"@@ Luke straightens, eyes wide. @@.luke;"What? I'm not eating //all// of them. Just, like, a normal amount."@@ She glances at his plate, then back at him. @@.girl;"I've seen you eat three in the last five minutes."@@ Luke's mouth opens. Closes. He stares at her. @@.luke;"I'm carb-loading, I think,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Post-game recovery. Protein synthesis. Muscle... um... repair."@@ You glance sideways at him. "Protein synthesis?" She raises an eyebrow, not impressed by his explanation. He tries again. @@.luke;"I'm in sports medicine,"@@ he says, like that explains everything. @@.girl;"You're in P.E."@@ @@.luke;"...Same thing."@@ She lets out a soft sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. It's clear she can't be mad when it's Luke of all people. @@.girl;"Look. Just eat a fair amount, alright? We need these to last the whole night."@@ Luke nods quickly, chastised. @@.luke;"Yeah. Totally. Sorry."@@ He looks down at his plate, then back up at her with the saddest expression you've ever seen. She moves on with a shake of her head, already turning to scan the rest of the table. Luke looks at you and whispers, @@.luke;"She's scary. But, like... kind of cute. Asian, y'know?"@@ You nearly choke on your drink. <<button "Ask Luke how much he usually eats" "Day 20 - 12">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_luke_convo_2" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Agree with Luke that she is cute" "Day 20 - 12">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_luke_convo_2" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "Flirt and ask if you're not cuter" "Day 20 - 12">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc2 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_luke_convo_2" 2 "story">><</button>> <<elseif $d20homecomingfirst is 1>>\ <<if $d18shop is 3>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc1 is 0>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You reach for the flower crown before you can second-guess yourself. It's not even the prettiest one on the table, some of the petals are slightly frayed at the edges. But there's something about the softness about it that draws you in. You place it gently on your head, adjusting it so it sits just behind your bangs. It's a light weight, barely there, but it shifts something in your chest. You glance at Jessica and Samantha, bracing for a comment. Jessica lights up, genuine delight in her eyes. @@.jessica;"Wait, that actually looks really good on you."@@ Samantha stares for a beat, then smirks. @@.samantha;"Huh. I never thought I'd say this, but you're kind of pulling that off."@@ You laugh, a little bashful, but their reactions ease some of the flutter in your stomach. @@.player;"I figured I'd just go full ethereal forest princess for the night."@@ Samantha raises an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"Next you'll be weaving daisy chains and singing to deer."@@ @@.jessica;"He already does that,"@@ she, says snorting. @@.jessica;"I think he just doesn't invite us."@@ You roll your eyes, smiling as you adjust the crown one more time. The three of you step into the booth area and get in front of the camera. @@.jessica;"What pose are we doing?"@@ Jessica asks, brushing her hair over one shoulder. Samantha tilts her head. @@.samantha;"We could go classic. Cute. Or dramatic. Or chaotic. I'm open to chaos."@@ Jessica, wearing a glimmer tiara and holding a small cardboard microphone, says, @@.jessica;"Let's give the people drama."@@ //Click.// In the first shot, you smile gently, the flower crown tilting a bit to one side as if caught in a breeze. Samantha makes a dramatic face toward the camera, while Jessica is mid-laugh. @@.jessica;"Again!"@@ Jessica declares. //Click.// The second flash goes off. Samantha photobombs this one, leaning in with a ridiculous grin just as the shutter clicks. One more picture. You lean into the frame, gently adjusting the crown one last time. This time, Samantha throws both arms up in mock celebration, and Jessica loops her arm through yours. //Click.// It's over far too quickly, but something about the whole thing sticks with you. Not just the fun of it, but the sense that this moment is something you want to hold onto. As the printout slides from the side of the booth, Jessica reaches for it first, her face lighting up when she sees it. @@.jessica;"We look amazing."@@ @@.samantha;"Obviously,"@@ Samantha deadpans. @@.samantha;"We're the coolest trio. Sorry, Luke."@@ <<if $acceptance > 19>>\ Jessica hands you one of the copies. @@.jessica;"You're keeping this. You're officially Flower Princess of the Night."@@ <<else>>\ Jessica hands you one of the copies. @@.jessica;"You're keeping this. You're officially Flower Prince of the Night."@@ <</if>>\ You take it with a small smile. It might just be some glossy paper and ink, but it feels heavier in your hand somehow. <<elseif $d20homecomingfc1 is 1>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You grab the oversized mustache on a stick and hold it up to your face with exaggerated poise. Jessica sees it and immediately lets out a laugh. @@.jessica;"Oh my God. You look like a cartoon villain."@@ You put on your best dramatic voice, lowering your tone. @@.player;"You've foiled my evil plan for the last time, Homecoming Committee!"@@ Samantha deadpans, @@.samantha;"Are you going to tie someone to a train track next?"@@ You waggle your brows behind the mustache. @@.player;"This is going in the yearbook, I swear."@@ You twirl the mustache stick between your fingers and strike a gentlemanly pose. @@.player;"I call this look the 19th Century Land Baron."@@ Samantha smirks, folding her arms. @@.samantha;"That's not even a real title."@@ @@.player;"It is if you believe hard enough,"@@ you say, still holding the mustache up with mock dignity. The three of you step into the booth area together. Jessica brushes her hair back and squints at the camera. @@.jessica;"Alright, what's the move? Classic pose? Peace signs? Something chaotic?"@@ Samantha taps her chin thoughtfully. @@.samantha;"All I know is that $name looks like he's about to sell us snake oil."@@ You turn to her, mustache firmly in place. @@.player;"Madam, I'll have you know I am a legitimate businessman."@@ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>> Jessica chuckles and places a monocle prop over one eye, biting back a grin. @@.jessica;"Guess I'll be your scandalous heiress then."@@ <<else>>\ Jessica chuckles and places a monocle prop over one eye, biting back a grin. @@.jessica;"Guess I'll be the scandalous heiress then."@@ <</if>>\ Samantha, refusing to be outdone, throws on a pair of oversized pink sunglasses. @@.samantha;"And I'll be the rival socialite here to steal the family fortune."@@ You hold the mustache and tilt your head in a dashing angle, while Jessica leans into you with a hand on your chest like she's fainting. Samantha points accusingly at you like she's calling you out on a phone. //Click.// @@.samantha;"More ridiculous,"@@ Samantha demands. She lunges toward the front, sticking her tongue out. Jessica pretends like she's screaming, while you squint on eye and twist the fake mustache like a villain in a silent film. //Click.// For the last one, you all just collapse into laughter. No poses or characters, just the three of you crammed in close, grinning like idiots, caught in the joy of a stupid yet wonderful moment. //Click.// You take the printed photos and glance down at it. It's silly and absurd, sure, but kind of perfect. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc2 is 0>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You glance over the cluttered prop table, scanning the oversized shades, goofy paper signs, and an actual banana that someone probably left behind. Samantha's already reaching for a ridiculous sequin crown, but you're not looking for something loud. You're not even sure what you're looking for, exactly. And then you see it. Near the edge of the table, half buried beneath a cracked pair of flamingo sunglasses, is a flower crown. It's a little lopsided and probably made for a child's birthday party, with soft white and pink silk petals woven into a flimsy vine. You reach out and pick up. It feels delicate in your hands, like it might fall apart if you breathe too hard. You hesitate for a second, thumb brushing over one of the fabric petals. And then, without thinking too much, you lift it place it gently on your head. Samantha catches the movement. @@.samantha;"That's the one you're going with?"@@ You nod, adjusting it slightly. @@.player;"Too much?"@@ She eyes you for a moment before shrugging and smiling faintly. @@.samantha;"Nah. It suits you."@@ You duck your head and follow her into the booth. It's tight, but you both manage to squeeze onto the bench. The screen in front of you counts down from three. You smile softly, one hand adjusting the crown. The petals tickle your forehead. //Click.// The first flash goes off. Samantha throws an arm around your shoulder and makes a peace sign for the second. You keep your expression gentle. You can see yourself on the screen, the crown perched on your head, the faint shimmer of gym lights playing off your hair. //Click.// On the third one, she says something dumb that makes you laugh right as the shutter goes. //Click.// The screen goes dark for a second before displaying the photos in a slow loop. You and Samantha lean forward to look. They're all super ridiculous. Samantha looks at the screen for a moment, then at you, and then just says, @@.samantha;"You actually look kinda... whimsical."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I try."@@ @@.samantha;"You look like a Disney princess,"@@ she says. You smile and slip the crown off as you leave the booth, fingers lingering on the petals for a beat longer than you meant to. Then you gently set it back on the table, tucking it behind a pile of sunglasses, before heading back into the crowd and noise of Homecoming. <<elseif $d20homecomingfc2 is 1>>\ <<set $masculinity to Math.clamp($masculinity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femininity to Math.clamp($femininity - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You scan the prop table, taking in the chaos. There's a pink tiara, a pair of fairy wings, glittery cat ears, oversized heart glasses, and more. Samantha's already reaching for a ridiculous sequin crown, but your gaze drifts toward something else. Tucked just behind a pile of floppy hats, there's a fake mustache on a stick. You pick it up. It's one of those exaggerated, cartoonish ones. Big and curly at the ends like it belongs to some old-timey villain. The wooden stick attached to it is slightly chipped, but it holds together well enough. It feels a little absurd, but something about that makes it easier. Like hiding in plain sight. You hold it up to your face with mock seriousness. @@.player;"Dashing, right?"@@ Samantha gives you a look. @@.samantha;"You look like you're about to tie someone to a train track."@@ You raise your eyebrows over the mustache. @@.player;"Perhaps I shall."@@ She snorts and adjusts her sequin crown, then sits back on the tiny bench, trying to squeeze into frame with you. The screen in front of you counts down from three. You tilt your head slightly, mustache held perfectly in place, and give the camera a raised-eyebrow smirk. //Click.// The first flash goes off. Samantha leans in more dramatically for the second, adjusting her crown like she's royalty. You keep the mustache but this time widen your eyes for a shocked expression. //Click.// For the last one, you both glance at each other, not quite sure what pose to strike. Samantha ends up just laughing, and you laugh too, still holding the stupid mustache. //Click.// The screen goes dark for a second before displaying the photos in a slow loop. You and Samantha lean forward to look. They're all super ridiculous. Samantha looks at the screen for a moment, then at you, and then just says, @@.samantha;"Solid work."@@ You give a slight bow, still holding the mustache. @@.player;"Thank you. It's the 'gentleman criminal' aesthetic."@@ @@.samantha;"Dangerous //and// refined,"@@ she says dryly. You grin and set the mustache back on the table before stepping aside to let the next group in. Samantha follows you out, brushing glitter from her sleeve as you both step back into the hum of the gym, lights spinning lazily enough. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 13">><</button>> <<elseif $d20homecomingfirst is 2>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc1 is 0>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc2 is 0>>\ You glance sideways at Vincent, watching the way he keeps fidgeting with the spiral edge of his sketchbook, even though it's long since been tucked under his arm. His gaze darts from group to group like he's tracking a hundred different possible threats, but he's trying. You can see the effort in every inch of him. His hand is still in yours, even if it's a little sweaty now. You give a small chuckle, just to break the tension. @@.player;"You know,"@@ you say casually, @@.player;"I'm not totally comfortable either."@@ Vincent whips his head around so fast you think he might give himself whiplash. @@.vincent;"Wait, what?! Oh God, you didn't have to come down here for me, $name. Seriously, I didn't mean to like... pressure you into—"@@ @@.player;"Vincent. Breathe."@@ You squeeze his hand again, this time to calm him. He blinks, wide-eyed. @@.vincent;"Sorry. Sorry, I just thought that you were confident. Like you're always fine around people. You don't even seem to think about it sometimes."@@ You let out a small laugh. @@.player;"Yeah, well, I think about it. All the time. Half the time I walk into a room and wonder if I'm standing weird. Or if people think I'm annoying. Or if I'm talking too much or too little or just... existing the wrong way."@@ Vincent's eyebrows lift in surprise, but his shoulders drop a little, too. @@.vincent;"Seriously?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Seriously. I just got really good at faking it."@@ @@.vincent;"Faking it?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say with a small grin. @@.player;"Fake it 'til you make it, right? That's the trick. Act like you're supposed to be here until your brain catches up and believes it."@@ Vincent looks at you like you've just handed him some kind of ancient secret. @@.vincent;"So you're telling me everyone's just... pretending?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"A lot of people are. And the ones who aren't? They used to be."@@ He looks around the room again, this time with a different kind of expression. Not dread, but curiosity. Like he's reevaluating everything. Like he's wondering how many others here are faking it. @@.vincent;"I always thought I had to wait until I felt ready,"@@ he says softly. @@.vincent;"But maybe you're right. Maybe you just have to do it anyway."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, that's pretty much it. You don't wait to feel brave. You show up scared and let the rest sort itself out."@@ Vincent lets out a shaky laugh. @@.vincent;"That's... kind of terrifying."@@ @@.player;"Oh, it is,"@@ you agree. @@.player;"But it's also kind of freeing."@@ @@.vincent;"Thank you,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Not just for dragging me down here, but for being honest. That means a lot."@@ You can tell it means the world to him. <<elseif $d20homecomingfc2 is 1>>\ <<set $vincentRomance to Math.clamp($vincentRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ The two of you are still standing near the edge of the dance floor, the sound of laughter and music in the background. Lights flicker over the gym like reflections on water, swimming over the two of you in slow, looping patterns. Vincent's still scanning the crowd with that tentative, uncertain gaze, fingers tight around his sketchbook. You notice the way he keeps shifting his weight, his shoulder brushing yours every few seconds, almost by accident. You turn toward him fully, your voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say. Vincent glances over at you, eyebrows raised slightly. @@.vincent;"Yeah?"@@ Instead of answering right away, you squeeze his hand gently. It's a small thing. Not dramatic or a grand declaration, just warm skin meeting warm skin. Vincent stiffens at first, eyes going a little wide behind his glasses. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he breathes, caught somewhere between surprise and something softer, something he's maybe too shy to name. But you don't let it go. You smile, just barely. @@.player;"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."@@ He shakes his head quickly, white hair flopping a little with the motion. @@.vincent;"No! No, you didn't. It's just that no one's really done that before."@@ Your thumb moves gently across the back of his hand, back and forth, like a quiet reassurance. @@.player;"Well, someone should've."@@ Vincent stares at you, mouth parting like he's trying to come up with something to say, but nothing comes. His lips close again, and then they curve. @@.vincent;"I didn't think this night would be good,"@@ he admits softly. @@.vincent;"I thought I'd show up, feel invisible, maybe sketch something and leave early. I definitely didn't expect..."@@ He trails off, and his eyes flick down to your joined hands. You squeeze gently. @@.player;"Me neither."@@ The moment lingers. You both stay close, standing just to the side of the chaos, orbiting the party without fully joining it. But it doesn't feel like you're missing out. If anything, it feels like the two of you have carved something rare inside all the noise. Vincent laughs quietly under his breath. @@.vincent;"This is so weird,"@@ he murmurs. @@.vincent;"In a good way. A really good way."@@ You don't need to dance, or pose, or say anything profound. You're here. Together. And right now, that's more than enough. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc2 is 0>>\ You tilt your head, curiosity tugging at you. @@.player;"Hey... why aren't you in the AP Art class again? I'm pretty sure we have AP Drawing."@@ Vincent blinks, caught off guard. His pencil hovers above the page for a second before he lowers it slowly. @@.vincent;"Oh. Uh... that's a long story, kinda."@@ You gesture around at the empty bleachers with a wry smile. @@.player;"We've got time."@@ He gives a sheepish grin. @@.vincent;"I guess I just focused too much on academics for a while.I've been really set on getting into a top school, and I kind of bought into the whole 'perfect GPA, stacked APs, extracurricular overload' kind thing. I've been gunning for a top 20. So I loaded up on STEM and forgot to leave space for, you know... the thing I actually love doing."@@ You nod slowly. @@.vincent;"But, I'm actually dropping one of my AP classes this week,"@@ he continues, a little brighter. @@.vincent;"I actually just finalized it with the counselor. Starting Tuesday, I'm in the seventh block art elective."@@ Your eyebrows rise. @@.player;"With Ms. Delgado?"@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ Vincent says, surprised. @@.vincent;"Why? Is she horrible or something?"@@ You shake your head, a slow grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. @@.player;"No. It's just 'cause I'm in that class too."@@ Vincent's eyes widen, then light up. @@.vincent;"Wait, seriously? You're in that class?"@@ You nod again. @@.player;"Have been since the start of the semester."@@ @@.vincent;"Oh man, that's awesome!"@@ He laughs, actually sounding a little giddy. @@.vincent;"I thought I was going to walk in and be surrounded by total strangers, but now I get to sit next to someone who won't silently judge me and my first-day nerves. That's huge."@@ There's a warmth in his voice now as he takes in the unexpected good news. He leans back a little, looking genuinely pleased. @@.vincent;"You have no idea how much better that makes me feel. I was actually kind of freaking out about it, but this changes everything."@@ Here in the bleachers, there's just this small, honest moment between two people who maybe needed it more than they realized. <<elseif $d20homecomingfc2 is 1>>\ You shift a little on the bleacher bench, glancing at the sketchpad resting on Vincent's lap. His pencil moves slowly now, not drawing as quickly anymore. He's just keeping his hands busy while he thinks. @@.player;"You ever think about being the one who teaches this stuff someday?"@@ you ask. He blinks and looks over at you, surprised, like he hadn't realized anyone was paying attention. He gives a small, sheepish laugh. @@.vincent;"Yeah. yeah, actually... I do."@@ He leans forward, elbows on his knees, sketchpad forgotten for a moment. @@.vincent;"I think about it a lot, actually,"@@ he says, voice softer now. @@.vincent;"Like... having a classroom of my own. Posters of weird, dramatic Renaissance paintings everywhere. A bookshelf that's a total mess. Maybe one of those old projectors that always buzz a little too loud, but that I'd use anyway."@@ His smile is warm and a little embarrassed. @@.vincent;"I'd love to teach history or art. Or both. They're so connected, you know? Art shows you what people cared about. What they feared. What they worshipped. You can see a whole era in the way someone paints fabric or tells a myth."@@ He pauses, running a hand through his hair, almost nervous to keep going. But the words spill out anyway. @@.vincent;"I just want to be the person who helps someone see that for the first time. Like, maybe there's a kid who always thought school was boring, and then they see something. It could be a painting or a story, and they'll realize it's not boring. It's alive."@@ You watch him as he talks. He's not trying to impress you. He's just being honest. There's this real spark in him, like the idea lights something up inside. @@.vincent;"But, I mean..."@@ He shrugs. @@.vincent;"It's a tough gig to get. No one's exactly lining up to hire art teachers right now. Or history ones, really. I've looked. It's kinda rough in 2024."@@ You give him a look. @@.player;"But if it makes you happy..."@@ Vincent's quiet for a moment. Then he nods. @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ he says, a little breathless. @@.vincent;"Yeah, it would."@@ He says it like it's just a certain truth. The kind of thing you don't have to think twice about. You sit with him there on the bleachers, surrounded by noise and music and motion, but none of that really matters. It's just the two of you, and a quiet dream Vincent's been carrying around for longer than he's probably ever admitted out loud. <<elseif $d20homecomingfc2 is 2>>\ <<set $vincentRomance to Math.clamp($vincentRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You shift a little on the bleachers, your eyes drifting from Vincent's sketchpad to the soft lines of his face, still flushed with excitement from talking about the Louvre. There's something about the way he looks when he's passionate, like the world fades away around him. You feel the words rising before you've even fully decided to say them. @@.player;"You know,"@@ you begin, @@.player;"we could totally visit a museum together sometime."@@ His head tilts, brows lifting slightly. @@.vincent;"Us? Together?"@@ You flash a small, teasing smile. @@.player;"Yeah. Unless you'd rather bring your APUSH textbooks for company."@@ Vincent blinks. Then his whole face turns red. Not just a little blush, no, full red. Ears, cheeks, even the bridge of his nose. You'd laugh if it wasn't so ridiculously endearing. He sputters for a second, caught completely off guard. @@.vincent;"I—uh—no! I mean, yeah. yes. That would actually be... that would be really nice."@@ His voice is softer now, and he ducks his head slightly, like he's trying to hide the fact that he's grinning. He runs a hand through his hair, visibly trying to compose himself, but you can tell he's still all flustered. @@.vincent;"I've never had someone offer to do that with me,"@@ he admits, glancing back up. @@.vincent;"Like, yeah, I've gone to museums with my parents or school, but this would be..."@@ He trails off for a second, searching for the right word. @@.vincent;"Special."@@ You feel your chest squeeze a little at that. Vincent fiddles with the edge of his sketchbook, smiling down at it like it's suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. @@.vincent;"I'd make a whole itinerary, you know. Like, proper nerd mode. I'd show you all the ones that aren't even on the main floor. The quiet ones that nobody ever bothers to go see, but that still tell a whole story if you know what to look for."@@ You laugh, nudging him gently with your shoulder. @@.player;"You sound like you've been planning this for years."@@ @@.vincent;"I kinda have,"@@ he murmurs, then immediately covers his face with his hands. @@.vincent;"Oh my God, that sounded so much cooler in my head."@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"It was actually kinda adorable."@@ He peeks through his fingers, eyes crinkling at the corners. @@.vincent;"You think so?"@@ @@.player;"I know so."@@ The music swells in the background, but for a second it feels like it's just the two of you here. You're tucked into a corner of the gym, surrounded by people who haven't looked your way once. And somehow, you're okay with that. Maybe even a little grateful for it. Vincent finally lowers his hands, letting out a breathy laugh. @@.vincent;"Thanks, $name. For... y'know. Noticing me."@@ @@.player;"I always have,"@@ you respond. He looks at you, eyes wide and warm, like that meant more to him than you could've imagined. It's just you and Vincent and maybe the start of something new. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 13">><</button>> <<elseif $d20homecomingfirst is 3>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc1 is 0>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc2 is 0>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Well, I'm glad you're opening up to me,"@@ you say, keeping your tone light, but honest. Jordan glances over at you. For a moment, he doesn't respond. But your expression must give your sincerity away, because his face softens. His voice is quieter when he replies. @@.jordan;"...Yeah. I guess I am."@@ He exhales through his nose, like he's surprised to hear himself admit it. Then he gives a small shake of his head and leans back against the wall again, arms crossed but loose. @@.jordan;"It's not really something I do, you know? I don't like talking about stuff. Feelings. All that. Never have. Never was //allowed// to."@@ You nod. @@.player;"I kinda figured."@@ He lets out a short laugh. @@.jordan;"Yeah. Not exactly subtle about it, huh?"@@ Jordan doesn't look at you as he speaks again. He's staring out at the crowd, watching people dance, talk, spin around in dresses and suits. @@.jordan;"You know, I don't think I've ever really known what it feels like to want something and not feel guilty for it."@@ You blink, unsure what he means. He notices and gives a weak smile. @@.jordan;"My parents... they're not bad people. They're not yelling at me or grounding me or whatever. But at this point, what they're doing feels worse than some yelling. It's like they already know who I'm supposed to be and I'm supposed to love it. Football, games, trophies. Win the season. Get the scholarship. Become a star. Make them proud."@@ He pauses and tilts his head back, eyes on the ceiling like he's searching for the right words. @@.jordan;"They come to every game. They always tell people I'm their star. But they don't ask me if I actually like playing. What I'd like to do with my life. Not really."@@ You don't interrupt. You just listen. @@.jordan;"I used to love it,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Or maybe I convinced myself I did. But lately... I don't know. Every time I get on the field, it's like I'm running a script someone else wrote. Like I'm playing a part in a play I never auditioned for."@@ He rubs the back of his neck. @@.jordan;"I just mean... I wish they saw me. Not the version they brag about. Not the football star. The guy who can lose hours reading stage directions and watching old plays on YouTube. Who dreams of making it all the way to Broadway."@@ @@.jordan;"They wouldn't even know what to do with that version,"@@ he says, letting out a tired, bitter laugh. There's a pause. He breathes in, breathes out. @@.jordan;"I love them,"@@ he says, like it's a confession. @@.jordan;"They're still my parents. I don't want to disappoint them. I want them to be proud of me. But sometimes I hate them too. For how little they see me. For how much they've already decided who I have to be."@@ You let that land between you. Jordan is being raw and real and, most importantly, honest. @@.jordan;"I don't talk about this stuff,"@@ he says, glancing at you again. @@.jordan;"Usually I don't even let myself think about it. Feels like opening the wrong door in your own house."@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"But you are thinking about it."@@ @@.jordan;"Guess I am,"@@ he admits. Another beat passes. He folds his arms again, but not like he's shutting down. More like he's holding himself steady. @@.jordan;"You really do make it easy, $name,"@@ he adds after a moment. @@.jordan;"To say stuff like this. You don't try to fix it or make it into some big thing. You just listen."@@ @@.player;"That's what friends are for,"@@ you say softly. He gives a small, tired smile. @@.jordan;"Good to know I've got at least one friend in this lonely world."@@ You both look back toward the gym crowd and let the moment sit between you. There's no need to fill it with more. Jordan exhales again. @@.jordan;"I used to think I was weak for wanting something different. For not being all in on football like they are. But maybe... Fuck. Maybe it takes more strength to admit it's not your thing."@@ @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you echo. Then Jordan glances sideways at you and says, with a smirk. @@.jordan;"And before you say something cheesy like 'you're stronger than you think,' I'm gonna stop you."@@ @@.player;"I wasn't gonna,"@@ you lie. @@.jordan;"Uh-huh."@@ You both laugh. It's not a resolution. Nothing's really been solved. But you're sure Jordan feels a little lighter, and isn't that enough? <<elseif $d20homecomingfc2 is 1>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"You're kind of a softie, you know,"@@ you say with a small grin, bumping your shoulder lightly into his. Jordan stiffens immediately, like he's just been caught red-handed in a crime. @@.jordan;"Excuse me?"@@ he says, feigning offense. @@.jordan;"I am //not// a softie, thank you."@@ @@.player;"Mhm. Sure you're not,"@@ you reply, drawing out the words just enough to be annoying. @@.player;"You just happen to know the entire cast list of //Hadestown// and love rewatching //Sweeney Todd//. Not to mention you told me you cried during //West Side Story//. Totally tough guy behavior."@@ @@.jordan;"I don't cry,"@@ he insists. @@.jordan;"My contacts were just being weird."@@ @@.player;"You don't wear contacts, Jordan."@@ @@.jordan;"...The theater was dusty. Someone was definitely snacking as well. Maybe it was the popcorn dust."@@ You laugh, and Jordan throws a flustered glare at you. His arms cross over his chest, and his eyes dart toward the dance floor like he's searching for a distraction. @@.jordan;"Whatever, $name. You're imagining things."@@ @@.player;"I'm not. I'm observant. And what I'm observing,"@@ you say, stepping in just a little closer, @@.player;"is that under all that growling and grumping, you're actually kind of sweet."@@ Jordan opens his mouth to protest, but the words don't come. His cheeks tint pink, and when he looks back at you, his expression is soft. @@.jordan;"Shut up,"@@ he mutters. You grin. @@.player;"You're not denying it."@@ @@.jordan;"I //am// denying it,"@@ he says, but it sounds more like a whine. @@.jordan;"Just because I don't like yelling at cashiers or stepping on bugs doesn't mean I'm soft. I'm a perfectly normal, emotionally detached guy."@@ @@.player;"Right,"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"That's why you keep messaging me and checking up on me."@@ @@.jordan;"That's called being decent,"@@ he grumbles. @@.jordan;"You make it sound like I handed you a bouquet and serenaded you."@@ You give a mock gasp. @@.player;"Wait a second. You're capable of serenading."@@ @@.jordan;"I swear to God, $name—"@@ He stops himself mid-sentence when you reach out, gently tugging on the sleeve of his varsity jacket. @@.player;"You can growl all you want,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"But I like this version of you. The one who pretends he's all gruff but remembers how I like my coffee and secretly watches ballet videos on YouTube."@@ Jordan looks at you like you've just stolen all the air out of the gym. For a second, he doesn't speak. Then: @@.jordan;"I thought we agreed not to talk about the ballet thing,"@@ he mutters, ears a very telling shade of red now. @@.player;"Oh, I never agreed,"@@ you say with a smirk. @@.player;"That was alll you."@@ He groans, dragging a hand down his face. @@.jordan;"You're the worst."@@ @@.player;"You love it."@@ @@.jordan;"...Shut up."@@ You fall into a silence that feels warm instead of awkward. Jordan shifts a little, like he's trying to hide how much closer he's standing to you now. He doesn't pull away, though. He doesn't crack a joke to deflect it either. He just stays right by your side. @@.jordan;"You're impossible,"@@ he says eventually, but there's a quiet fondness in it. Like maybe, just maybe, he doesn't mind being teased. At least not by you. And for now, isn't that enough? <</if>>\ <<elseif $d20homecomingfc1 is 1>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc2 is 0>>\ <<set $d20auroratwitch to true>>\ You flinch. It's small, barely a twitch in your shoulders. Most people wouldn't even register it. But Aurora isn't most people. Her eyes sharpen the moment it happens, like a camera lens clicking into focus. You feel exposed in a way that's hard to explain. Like she's not just looking at you, but through you. You don't even know why you did it, really. Maybe it was her voice, or the way she said your name. Or maybe it's because deep down, you know the question struck something you weren't ready to touch. Her lips part slightly, just the faintest smile tugging at the corners. Not cruel or smug, but rather intrigued. @@.aurora;"Interesting,"@@ she murmurs. And then she turns away. No explanation or anything, just the one word left hanging in the air as she walks off. You're left standing by the wall, staring at the spot she just vacated, unsure whether the chill you feel is from the autumn air that seeped in through the gym doors or something else entirely. The music keeps going. People keep dancing. Laughter rises in pockets and drifts away again. Yet, you feel different. Something changed, and now it's with you. <<elseif $d20homecomingfc2 is 1>>\ You don't flinch. You think maybe you should've. Aurora's voice has that strange weight to it, like she's whispering directly into your bones. Her gaze is heavy too, as if she's reading more than your expression. But you meet it anyway. You hold steady, even as your fingers twitch steadily at your sides. Not out of fear, but rather anticipation. Whatever she's seeing, whatever she's looking for, you let her look. For a second, neither of you speak. Then, Aurora tilts her head slightly, like you've surprised her. And then, just like that, she smiles. It's not the sly, knowing kind of smile you've seen her wear before, the one she uses when she's enjoying being mysterious or watching people squirm. This one is... genuine. A little crooked. Still quiet, but somehow warmer. There's a flash of real teenage humanity in it, like the curtain's been pulled back. @@.aurora;"Most people flinch,"@@ she says softly. @@.aurora;"Even the ones who try not to."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Well, sorry to disappoint."@@ Her smile stays. @@.aurora;"No, no. I like it."@@ And for the first time, it doesn't feel like she's playing a role. It doesn't feel like she's trying to get a rise out of you. It feels like she's just... talking. Like a real person. @@.player;"I'm just trying to understand things,"@@ you say after a moment. @@.player;"About you. About the curse. About all of this."@@ Aurora looks at you again, but something in her expression has shifted. She still holds that air of mystery, maybe she always will, but it's softer now. Less like she's hiding something and more like she's waiting. @@.aurora;"You will,"@@ she says. Then adds, @@.aurora;"Tomorrow."@@ That's all. No riddles. No cryptic smile or dramatic exit. Just a promise. @@.player;"Tomorrow,"@@ you echo, watching her step away from the wall. She gives you a nod before slipping into the crowd. Not vanishing like some supernatural enigma or cloaked in silence, just... walking off like any other girl her age. Human. You're left standing there, the weight of her words still in your chest. Tomorrow. <<elseif $d20homecomingfc2 is 2>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You don't flinch. You meet Aurora's gaze directly, unblinking. Whatever strange energy she's trying to wield, whatever tension she's hanging in the air, it doesn't sway you. Maybe you're just tired of it. Maybe it's been a long week, and you're not in the mood to be toyed with by Aurora for the 100th time. You take a breath. Steady. Cool. @@.player;"Cut the crap, Aurora."@@ The words come out flat. Not angry or loud, but unmistakably sharp. It lands like a drop of ink in water, suddenly staining the conversation. The atmosphere between you both changes instantly. Aurora doesn't speak. Not at first. Her expression just stills, instead of twisting or crumbling. She looks at you a little differently now. Not like you're someone interesting. Not like you're even someone worth watching. Just... differently. Smaller. Duller. Her voice is cool when it finally comes, but there's no mystery to it this time. No strange lilt. No edge. @@.aurora;"You don't get it,"@@ she says, softly. You open your mouth, maybe to say something else or to walk it back. But she steps back before you can, eyes flicking away like she can't hold your gaze anymore. @@.aurora;"Forget it,"@@ she adds, barely above the noise of the gym. Jordan, who had been lingering nearby, catches the change in her tone. He frowns, glancing between you and her. @@.jordan;"Everything okay?"@@ Aurora doesn't answer him. She just gives a small shake of her head and starts to walk away. Not dramatically or disappearing in a puff of magic, just... leaving. Quietly. Jordan watches her go, then looks at you. His expression isn't angry, but it is irritated. @@.jordan;"Dude,"@@ he mutters, before turning and heading off too. And now you're alone again, having broken something that won't be easy to fix. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d20homecomingfc1 is 2>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 13">><</button>> <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d20homecomingfirst is 0>>\ <<if $d20homecomingfc2 is 0>>\ You take a long sip from your punch, watching Luke sulk over his snack plate. He picks at a lone pretzel stick with tragic energy. The student council president is already halfway across the room, clipboard in hand. You nudge him lightly with your elbow. @@.player;"Dude. Be honest. How much do you usually eat at home?"@@ Luke frowns, thinking. @@.luke;"Like... in a day?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah."@@ He scratches his chin, eyes narrowing like he's trying to solve an ancient riddle. @@.luke;"Okay,"@@ he says slowly, @@.luke;"so I usually start with, like, four eggs."@@ @@.player;"Four?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, with toast. And like... two protein bars. And yogurt. The good kind, not the watery kind."@@ @@.player;"Okay..."@@ @@.luke;"Then, if it's a lifting day, I make a second breakfast. Usually some chicken breast with rice and veggies, along with a banana after."@@ @@.player;"There's second breakfast?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, obviously."@@ You stare at him, jaw slack, as he continues with complete sincerity. @@.luke;"Then lunch is usually a burrito. One of the big ones. I get a pack of 100 massive flour tortillas. I can also do pasta with meatballs. Or both, depending on the day. And chips. Always chips."@@ @@.player;"Okay, so I guess you're the type who just eats meals and doesn't snack throughout the day."@@ @@.luke;"Oh, not at all,"@@ he says, brightening. @@.luke;"I like my protein shakes, almonds, and sandwiches. Or half a pizza if there's some left in the fridge."@@ You squint at him. @@.player;"Half a slice?"@@ @@.luke;"What? No."@@ He looks offended. @@.luke;"Like a real pizza. Family size. I mean, I leave the crust sometimes though. Unless it's cheesy crust. Then I'll eat all of it."@@ You stare at him. He shrugs like he just said something totally normal. @@.luke;"And then dinner depends, but usually it's rice and meat. Maybe a steak. Maybe a salad."@@ @@.player;"Maybe a salad,"@@ you repeat. @@.luke;"Gotta stay healthy."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"Bro. What the hell. How do you eat all that and not explode?"@@ Luke grins, completely unbothered. @@.luke;"Oh, that's what I eat when I'm dieting."@@ @@.player;"Dieting?!"@@ He nods proudly, as if he's just revealed a great life hack. @@.luke;"Yeah. Gotta keep my macros clean during the season."@@ @@.player;"You ate a gallon of cookies just now,"@@ you state, staring at him in disbelief. @@.player;"I don't know about macros."@@ @@.luke;"I needed them,"@@ he says solemnly, as if you're the one being unreasonable. You roll your eyes. @@.player;"You're gonna have health problems at thirty."@@ He just winks. @@.luke;"Worth it."@@ And somehow, you don't doubt for a second that he means it. <<elseif $d20homecomingfc2 is 1>>\ You watch the student council president vanish into the crowd, leaving the snack table once again safe. Luke is still gazing after her. @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you say. @@.player;"She //was// kind of cute."@@ Luke perks up instantly. @@.luke;"Right?! I knew I wasn't crazy."@@ @@.player;"Well, you are crazy,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"But I get what you mean. She's got intimidating honor student energy."@@ @@.luke;"I like how stern she was,"@@ he says with a dreamy little smile. You laugh. @@.player;"You like being yelled at?"@@ @@.luke;"Not yelled at,"@@ he says quickly. @@.luke;"Just mildly scolded, maybe."@@ @@.player;"You like a lot of girls, don't you?"@@ Luke shrugs. @@.luke;"Yeah. But it rarely works out."@@ That surprises you a little. Not the part about him liking a lot of girls, that part's obvious. But rather the fact that it doesn't work out. @@.player;"Why not?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"Oh man,"@@ he says, lighting up like he's about to tell a great story. @@.luke;"Do you remember Julia? From sophomore year?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"The one with the purple hair?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah. We dated for like, three months. She dumped me because she said I was just 'too much.'"@@ @@.player;"What does that even mean?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"She said I made her tired,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Like, emotionally. She told me I exhausted her."@@ You press your hand to your face. @@.player;"Oh my God."@@ @@.luke;"I wasn't even mad! I laughed when she said it."@@ He takes another sip of his punch, totally unbothered. @@.luke;"She said I was like a hyper dog she accidentally adopted and wants to return now."@@ @@.player;"You kind of //are// a hyper dog."@@ @@.luke;"That's what I said!"@@ Luke exclaims happily, like he's been waiting for this validation. @@.luke;"I told her, 'You knew what you were signing up for when you saw my course schedule and snack drawer.'"@@ You shake your head, smiling. @@.player;"You're impossible."@@ @@.luke;"$name, I'm an experience,"@@ he corrects. @@.luke;"I'm not for everyone."@@ @@.player;"And you're cool with that?"@@ Luke shrugs again, no bitterness anywhere in sight. @@.luke;"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be? They'll find someone more... chill. And I'll find someone who thinks making me mac and cheese at 2 in the morning and playing video games for hours straight is good."@@ @@.player;"That's a high bar."@@ @@.luke;"Maybe it is. But I believe in love."@@ You're not sure what to say to that. Luke says it with the same open, goofy sincerity he says everything else with. He's in no rush to find anyone, and he doesn't //need// to. So you just stand there with him. Luke pops another cookie in his mouth like nothing happened, having forgotten the warning. Of course he'd do that. <<elseif $d20homecomingfc2 is 2>>\ <<set $lukeRomance to Math.clamp($lukeRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $maleattraction to Math.clamp($maleattraction + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $femaleattraction to Math.clamp($femaleattraction - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You watch Luke watching her, eyes still a little wide from the encounter, like he hasn't quite recovered from being told to regulate his cookie intake. His expression is somewhere between admiration and stunned silence. He's still holding a cup of punch like he forgot it was there. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say, @@.player;"am I not cuter than her?"@@ It's meant as a joke. Kind of. But it comes out softer than you expect. Luke blinks. His head turns toward you fast enough that a few drops of punch nearly slosh out of his cup. His eyes scan your face, then flick down for just a moment. He looks at the way your suit fits your frame, the way the collar shapes your neck, the way your hair falls a little differently now. The $referto has been doing its work, and tonight, under the soft glow of the gym's lights, it's harder to tell at a glance where "boy" ends and "girl" begins. Especially to him. @@.luke;"You—"@@ he starts, then pauses, his voice catching. You lift an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.luke;"I, uh..."@@ He rubs the back of his neck, cheeks going a little pink. @@.luke;"I mean, yeah. You look... good. Like, really good. It's just—"@@ He gestures vaguely toward you, like toward you, like he's trying to be nice without sounding like a weirdo. @@.luke;"I mean, the suit. The hair. It's just... it looks nice."@@ Your heart gives a small, unwelcome flutter as you let him keep talking. @@.luke;"I mean... but I'm straight,"@@ he says quickly, eyes wide. You laugh quietly. @@.player;"No one said you weren't."@@ @@.luke;"But like..."@@ He glances away, clearly embarrassed. @@.luke;"Asian girls in suits? That's kind of my weakness."@@ That makes something warm flicker behind your ribs. You lean just a little closer, enough for your voice to lower, enough that the light catches in your eyes. @@.player;"So... I'm your weakness?"@@ Luke freezes. He looks like he's buffering. @@.luke;"I mean, technically, you're not a girl,"@@ he says, almost apologetically. @@.player;"Technically."@@ He doesn't say anything for a second. <<if $feminineLooks > 79>>\ @@.luke;"But, like... you really do look like one tonight. Not in a weird way! Just, I mean, ugh. You know what I mean."@@ <<elseif $feminineLooks > 59>>\ @@.luke;"But, like... you do look like one tonight. Not in a weird way! Just, I mean, ugh. You know what I mean."@@ <<else>>\ @@.luke;"But, like... you kind of look like one tonight. Not in a weird way! Just, I mean, ugh. You know what I mean."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"No, keep going,"@@ you say, biting back a grin. @@.player;"This is fun."@@ He groans, dragging a hand down his face. @@.luke;"You're evil."@@ @@.player;"Admit I'm cute and I'll stop."@@ He gives you a long look, then exhales hard through his nose. @@.luke;"Fine,"@@ he says, the corners of his mouth twitching. @@.luke;"You're cute."@@ The moment settles between you. @@.luke;"You're still my best friend, you know,"@@ he says, quieter now. You nod. @@.player;"I know."@@ @@.luke;"But... you're not exactly the same anymore, huh?"@@ You hold his gaze for a moment. @@.player;"Would you want me to be?"@@ He doesn't answer that with words. The way he looks at you feels like something's starting to change. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not all at once. But the door's open. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d20homecomingfirst is 1>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 13">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> The gym hums with anticipation as you make your way back toward the center. The decorations glimmer now under the shifting colored lights, casting a dreamy haze over the crowd. The bass drops, just once, before cutting. Silence blooms for half a second, like everyone's collectively holding their breath. Then the spotlight comes on. It sweeps across the crowd, a slow-moving beam that eventually lands on a figure standing at the edge of the DJ table. He's already holding a microphone, smiling wide enough that it could almost be mistaken for warmth. Principal Zhang. The crowd claps politely, with a few scattered whoops. He waits for the noise to settle, his posture immaculate, his suit wrinkle-free and looking very expensive. His tie has a gold school pin and his voice is honeyed and bright. Too bright. @@.zhang;"Good evening, students,"@@ he says, pausing like a practiced orator. @@.zhang;"It brings me great joy to welcome you to what promises to be an unforgettable night."@@ The students murmur, some clapping again. Zhang's gaze sweeps the crowd, and for a moment, it lands directly on you. You don't flinch, but your chest does tighten a little. You remember him earlier this week. His office, lined with trophies and commendations. His words, laced with that same smooth cadence he's using now, but weaponized. @@.zhang;"And whether you realize it or not, your new appearance is disruptive. It invites speculation, rumors, and drama. Things we do not want here at Pacific Crest High School."@@ Followed by a smile that didn't reach his eyes. After all, he's not punishing you, right? You're punishing yourself. But here he is now, all warmth and school spirit. @@.zhang;"I have to say, you all look absolutely fantastic tonight,"@@ he continues. @@.zhang;"The class of 2025 has truly outdone itself. The decorations, the music, the energy, all of it. It's everything a Homecoming should be."@@ He doesn't just write these speeches, he performs them. @@.zhang;"This evening is about unity,"@@ he says, clasping his hands in front of him. @@.zhang;"It's about setting aside our differences and celebrating what we share: our time together. Our youth. Our community."@@ There's a pause. A perfectly timed beat. @@.zhang;"In a world that too often tries to divide us, nights like this remind of us who we are. Panthers,"@@ he say. @@.zhang;"Strong. Disciplined. Proud."@@ A cheer rises from the crowd, some people really buying into it. His smile doesn't falter. But if you look close, ''really'' close, there's something tight about it. Something too pristine. Too polished. You've seen cracks in that veneer before. When he thought no one was looking. When he called you into his office alone. He smiles like he's rooting for every student here. But only if they fit the mold. @@.zhang;"And remember,"@@ he says, his voice taking on a cadence that people mistake for kindness, @@.zhang;"tonight is a celebration. Let's keep it safe. Let's keep it respectful. And most of all, let's keep it memorable."@@ He turns toward the DJ and gives a crisp little nod. The music kicks back up to hype up the crowd. Everyone whoops as the lights flash into motion again. But you're not looking at the crowd. You're still watching Principal Zhang, who steps off the platform and disappears into the mingling students. His smile is gone the moment he turns away. Just... gone. And you're left wondering what exactly he thinks he accomplished. What game he's playing tonight. Because it's not about school spirit. It never is. <<button "You're uneasy" "Day 20 - 14">>\<<set $d20principalfeeling to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_principal_opinion" "uneasy" "story">><</button>> <<button "You're angry" "Day 20 - 14">>\<<set $d20principalfeeling to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_principal_opinion" "angry" "story">><</button>> <<button "You're scared" "Day 20 - 14">>\<<set $d20principalfeeling to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_principal_opinion" "scared" "story">><</button>> <<button "You're indifferent" "Day 20 - 14">>\<<set $d20principalfeeling to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D20_principal_opinion" "indifferent" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d20principalfeeling is 0>>\ You try to clap with everyone else as the last echo of the principal's voice fades into the hum of the gym, but your palms feel stiff and awkward. The lights dazzle overhead, flickering slightly as the DJ kicks up a beat, and all around you are people laughing, mingling and moving. It's like the world's just shifted into motion again. And yet, you can't shake it. The way Zhang's smile stretched a little too far. How his eyes never really crinkled when he laughed. Like someone who's rehearsed every word he's going to say and doesn't actually believe any of it. You glance around, wondering if anyone else has noticed it. That sly undercurrent of something slimy beneath all the warmth. But everyone's too busy cheering, taking selfies, high-fiving friends. There's no crack in the crowd, no sign of anyone unsettled. You shift your weight from foot to foot. You remember his warning earlier. The one laced with condescension. @@.boy;"Because if you do, even once, I'll be waiting. And I promise you, $name. The next meeting won't be this polite."@@ He had the same smile then. It wasn't a smile meant for you. It was meant to disarm. To remind you who holds the leash. And now he's gone. Off to his office or outside for a smoke or wherever people like him retreat once the performance ends. You try to focus on the music, on the buzz of Homecoming around you, on anything but Principal Fucking Zhang. But the unease doesn't leave. It just sinks lower. <<elseif $d20principalfeeling is 1>>\ The applause is deafening, but all you hear is the roaring in your ears. You don't clap or cheer. You just stand there, jaw tight, watching as Principal Zhang strolls offstage, looking every bit the benevolent educator. The same man who cornered you with that plastic smile not long ago, pretending to care about "school standards" while making it crystal clear he didn't want you on full display. And now he's pretending to be everyone's favorite uncle. The charming administrator who supposedly cares deeply about all of you, even as he throws threats behind closed doors. It makes your blood boil. You watch him disappear through the side exit like a magician vanishing in a puff of glitter. You want to scream or say something. //Anything.// But the moment has passed, and no one else even seems to notice the switch. You dig your nails into your palms. You ''hate'' how people like him always get away with it. Hiding being charm and staged kindness while quietly trying to erase people like you. You wonder how many other students have felt it before. How many still do. But you're still here. Still standing. And if he thought a speech and a smirk could make you forget who he really is... he's sorely mistaken. <<elseif $d20principalfeeling is 2>>\ You clap with everyone else, but it's automatic, almost like your hands are acting on their own. Your eyes stay locked on the side door Principal Zhang just walked out of, your breath caught somewhere between your chest and throat. He's gone, but it feels like he's here. Like the echo of his voice is stitched into the very walls. You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly aware of how small you feel. How vulnerable. Even with the crowd moving and music blaring, even surrounded by people you know and laughter and lights, there's this sense of dread curling up inside you. Like the rug could be yanked out at any second. He smiled too wide and spoke too warmly. Like a snake with a silver tongue. You remember the way he looked at you just a minute ago. It's clear he disapproved, in that way that leaves you doubting even yourself. Questioning whether you belong in your own skin. Your heart pounds faster than it should. You try to look normal. Blend in. But the fear sticks, crawling up your back, unable to be shaken off. You wish you could just enjoy tonight. But all you can do is wonder when he'll go from words into action. <<elseif $d20principalfeeling is 3>>\ Applause erupts, and the DJ shouts something over the mic to hype everyone up, and the lights shift into neon pinks and greens. Everyone else is caught up in it except for you. You, though? Meh. You shrug, shove your hands in your pockets, and let it all pass over you. Principal Zhang's speech was exactly what you expected: overly rehearsed, syrupy, and for show. You've seen this kind of performance before. You're not fooled, but you're not mad, either. Let him talk and smile and pretend. It really doesn't matter. He's already left, and the gym has moved on without him. And you? You're just here to have a good night. His little performance doesn't get to decide what you do. <</if>>\ You exhale slowly, whatever feelings the principal left you with fading into noise. Then you turn around and slam directly into what might as well be a cement pillar in human form. @@.player;"Crap!"@@ You stumble back a step, hand flying to your chest like you've been hit by a car. Or a wide receiver. Which, all things considered, isn't that far off. @@.luke;"Woah!"@@ the brick wall says, sounding startled and vaguely amused. @@.luke;"Relax, dude! It's just me."@@ You blink. Luke. Of course it's Luke. He's standing there in his usual glory. His hair's even messier than earlier. You suspect he ran his hands through it a few times and called it fully styled. Behind him, Samantha rolls her eyes. She's dressed up for the occasion, actually wearing a skirt and letting the beanie run free for once. It's still undeniably Samantha though. Her eyeliner's sharp enough to qualify as a weapon. @@.samantha;"Of all people to crash into, you had to choose Luke the Boulder,"@@ she says dryly. Luke snorts, completely unconcerned. @@.luke;"Look, it's not my fault people bounce off me."@@ @@.samantha;"You //are// built like a fridge,"@@ she says, tilting her head toward him, then back to you. @@.samantha;"Anyway, you ready? Because we've gotta explore the fuck out of this place, man."@@ She spreads her arms dramatically like she's unveiling a theme park. @@.samantha;"The Student Council cooked. You have no idea how much stuff they've crammed into this year's Homecoming. There's the dumb icebreaker booths by the gym doors, a magic show in another corner, a mural wall, snack bar, and, most importantly, the slow dance at the end."@@ @@.luke;"Why'd you leave out the bleachers?"@@ Luke asks. @@.luke;"You can't forget them. They provide top-tier sitting."@@ Samantha ignores him. @@.samantha;"Point is, you've got options, and we can't leave you to just mope around by the punch table 'cause Zhang's a dick. This is senior year Homecoming. Our last year!"@@ Luke shakes your shoulder lightly, which causes your entire body to tremble. @@.luke;"C'mon. Live a little."@@ You glance around. The gym's still chaotic, but that chaos is starting to slowly take shape as groups split off into activities. You scan the room and spot a few familiar figures. <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ <<set $temp3 to false>>\ <<button "Check out the mural wall" "Day 20 - Mural 1">><</button>> <<button "Check out the magic show" "Day 20 - Magic 1">><</button>> <<button "Check out the side exit" "Day 20 - Exit 1">><</button>> <<button "Check out the dance floor" "Day 20 - Dance 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> Samantha stretches her arms behind her head with a yawn. @@.samantha;"Okay. I've had my fill of loud music and teenagers."@@ @@.player;"You say that like you're not a teenager,"@@ you comment. @@.samantha;"I might be in body, sure. But in soul, I'm an old grumpy cat."@@ Luke laughs. @@.luke;"Well, I'm gonna check out the snack table again. Might flirt with the pretzel machine."@@ Samantha nods in approval. @@.samantha;"Tell him I said hi."@@ You glance between them, and there's a quiet understanding in the air that it's time to split up. Give each other space to do whatever you want this night. Samantha smirks and flicks your shoulder as she turns. @@.samantha;"Don't get too sentimental while we're gone, alright?"@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"No promises."@@ And then you're on your own. You bounce between stations and side attractions like you're trying to collect every moment possible before the clock runs out. You snag a tiny fake trophy from the "Guess the Song" booth, where you somehow guessed //Call Me Maybe// in under a second. You pose with a cardboard cutout of Principal Zhang, only after dramatically flipping it off when no one's looking. There are teeth marks on his neck, for some reason. You spin the prize wheel at a booth no one's manning and lose, but steal a glowstick anyway. You even join the hula hoop contest for five glorious, chaotic seconds before you're immediately outclassed by a girl in glitter sneakers who hulas for minutes straight. You take a photo in the empty booth, just you. Peace sign and slight grin. It comes out slightly blurry, and the machine has run out of cyan ink, but you tuck it in your pocket anyway. You help a shy freshman reach a floating balloon. You compliment someone's homemade dress. You sneak a second cupcake when the teacher chaperoning the table isn't looking. Just as you're licking a smudge of frosting off your thumb, the gym lights dim slightly. A hush ripples through the crowd like a breeze across water. Spotlights flicker toward the center stage near the DJ booth, and his voice cuts through the chatter, still laced with energy but now performing a ceremonious shift. @@.boy;"Everybody calm down! We've got one very important Homecoming tradition to take care of."@@ A round of claps goes up, and you hear someone near the refreshment table mutter, @@.girl;"God, I forgot we even voted."@@ You didn't even know you could vote. From beside the stage, a student council member walks up with a sparkling envelope, flanked by two juniors holding cheap plastic crowns and sashes. The DJ rips the envelope open and pauses, drawing out the suspense until the crowd starts getting restless. @@.boy;"Your 2024 Homecoming King is Charlie Baldwin!"@@ The gym erupts into scattered cheers and half-hearted applause. Charlie's a senior on the football team, and he's ''definitely'' popular. He jogs up to the stage, lifting his arms and throwing finger guns at the crowd as he's crowned and sashed. @@.boy;"And your Homecoming Queen is Cassidy Nguyen!"@@ More claps, louder this time. Cassidy, a bubbly student with a picture-perfect Instagram smile and a knack for being everywhere all at once, squeals with surprise as she heads up to join Charlie. They pose together, flashbulbs going off from a cluster of students recording on their phones. Tyler does a little flex with his crown tilted sideways while Cassidy blows a kiss to the crowd. Right beside you, a girl with purple glitter on her cheeks leans toward her friend and asks, @@.girl;"Wait, why didn't Jessica win?"@@ You turn just enough to "catch the exchange" (eavesdrop). The other girl shrugs. @@.girl;"She didn't want to be on the ballot for whatever reason."@@ There's a pause, and then the topic dissolves into another conversation entirely. This time about which restroom has the best toilet paper. Up on the stage, Charlie and Cassidy wave again as the DJ wraps up the segment. @@.boy;"Give it up one more time for your King and Queen!"@@ the DJ calls, and a final round of applause carries them off the stage. @@.boy;"And now, let's get back to the real reason you're all here. To have fun!"@@ Upbeat music bursts back through the speakers and the room returns to motion. People rush back onto the dance floor. Someone starts a conga line and someone else throws glitter in the air. You move through it all, doing everything and nothing at once. A flash of neon from a glow stick bracelet, the dizzy laughter of a friend trying to learn a TikTok dance, the stickiness of spilled punch on the gym floor. All of it blurs together into strange haze. And then... the music suddenly slows. Not gradually, but suddenly. The DJ's voice crackles over the speakers, cheerful and smooth: @@.boy;"Alright, alright, now that everyone's made total fools of themselves,"@@ a pause for the crowd's laughter, @@.boy;"it's time to cool it down. If you've got a special someone, a partner, a friend, or even just someone you're brave enough to ask, now's the time. Grab a hand. We're heading into the final stretch with something slow."@@ You stand still for a moment in the middle of it all. Heart ticking faster, eyes scanning the crowd. Luke is at the snack table, his eyes darting around as he takes as much food as he can. Samantha is talking to someone near the drinks table, but glances up and spots you, her expression soft. Jessica sips from a red cup, her heels kicked off yet again. Vincent is near the mural wall, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve and looking at his shoes. He's clearly unsure what to do. Aurora is on the bleachers, watching the swirl of people like someone reading the stars themselves. Jordan leans against a column, pretending not to look at the dance floor but clearly keeping one eye on it. You breathe in, heart hammering gently against your ribs. It's time to choose. <<button "Luke" "Day 20 - Luke Dance 1">>\<<set $d20dance to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_partner" "luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Samantha" "Day 20 - Samantha Dance 1">>\<<set $d20dance to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_partner" "sam" "story">><</button>> <<button "Jessica" "Day 20 - Jessica Dance 1">>\<<set $d20dance to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_partner" "jessica" "story">><</button>> <<button "Vincent" "Day 20 - Vincent Dance 1">>\<<set $d20dance to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_partner" "vincent" "story">><</button>> <<button "Aurora" "Day 20 - Aurora Dance 1">>\<<set $d20dance to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_partner" "aurora" "story">><</button>> <<button "Jordan" "Day 20 - Jordan Dance 1">>\<<set $d20dance to 5>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_partner" "jordan" "story">><</button>> <<button "Fuck that, I'm sitting this out" "Day 20 - 16">>\<<set $d20dance to 6>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_partner" "noone" "story">><</button>>

The final song fades, the mic crackles, and Grace Liu takes the stage. She's the student council president, and her black blazer is askew. She clears her throat, her voice rough from too much yelling all night. @@.boy;"Alright, alright,"@@ he says, raising one hand. @@.boy;"That's our last song."@@ A few students, boo, but it's lighthearted. More of them cheer. Grace smiles. @@.girl;"Thank you all for being here tonight. Whether you were on the dance floor, the mural wall, the magic show, or—you know who you are—the snack table... you made this night what it was. I hope it was a good one."@@ Scattered claps swell into full applause. You join in without thinking, your hands moving almost on their own. A few people whistles. Someone yells @@.boy;"Love you, Grace!"@@ and someone else throws a glowstick across the room like it's a bouquet. @@.girl;"Get home safe, everyone,"@@ Grace adds. @@.girl;"And clean up your trash. Seriously. The janitors don't want to be mopping up juice and crumbs either."@@ The gym lights come up with a flicker, buzzing to life above you. Harsh, white, and fluorescent. Completely unlike the dreamy purple glow from just minutes ago. The illusion shatters. The gym is just a gym again. You're standing near the back wall, hands in your pocket, boots sticking slightly to the floor with every step as you shift your weight. You glance around. Students swarm around you in panicked waves. They're snapping final selfies, giving out last hugs, dragging tired feet toward the exit. Some couples linger, swaying gently even though the music's gone. Others slip out quietly, arms around each other, laughing about nothing. You spot Samantha yanking Luke away from the snack table, her hand snatching a powdered donut before he can finish it. Jessica spins, heels in hand again, makeup still somehow perfect. Aurora disappears through a side door, her purple skirt catching the light. Vincent clutches his sketchpad like it's the only stable thing in the world. Jordan stands with his back to the wall, arms crossed, watching the crowd with that scary look he wears like armor. And then there's you. You're not sure what you expected from tonight. Honestly, you didn't even know if you'd come. It was supposed to be awkward, but it wasn't. It surprised you. People surprised you. You surprised you. You breathe in slowly and head for the doors. The air outside is cool, quiet, and crisp. The sky above is dark, stars blinking. It's peaceful. The night is over, and you were part of it. <<button "Home" "Day 20 - 17">><</button>>

<img src = "img/bg/home-exteriornd.png"> <<set $shoes to 69>>\ The front door clicks shut behind you with a soft thud, and your home welcomes you in that quiet, familiar way it always does. The faint scent of lavender from the hallway diffuser, and the muffled hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You barely have time to take off your boots before you hear movement from the living room. Your mom peeks her head out, her expression softening the moment she sees you. She's still in her cozy robe, hair clipped up in one of those big plastic claws, a book in her hand. @@.girl;"You're back, $name,"@@ she says gently, setting the book down. @@.girl;"How was it?"@@ Before you can answer, another voice slices through the quiet. @@.lily;"Did you dance?!"@@ Lily bounds into view from the stairs in pajamas and fluffy socks. Her hair is wild like she's been rolling around on her bed, and her eyes are wide with fiery energy. @@.lily;"Wait, wait, show me your souvenirs! Did anyone confess?! Was there DRAMA?"@@ You rub the back of your neck, the weight of the night finally starting to settle in your limbs. @@.player;"It was good,"@@ you say, voice low but sincere. @@.player;"But I'm kinda tired."@@ Your mom picks up on it instantly. @@.girl;"Say no more."@@ She walks over, brushing a bit of lint from your collar out of instinct. @@.girl;"Go get some rest, sweetheart. You can tell us all about it tomorrow."@@ Lily starts to protest, whining, @@.lily;"But I wanna know!"@@ That ends up only getting her gently nudged toward the stairs. @@.girl;"Bed,"@@ your mom says, firm but loving. @@.girl;"You've already stayed up way past your bedtime."@@ <<if $acceptance > 24>>\ Lily groans dramatically, dragging her feet like she's walking to her own execution. @@.lily;"This is censorship. I have a right to KNOW what my older sibling does at school functions!"@@ <<else>>\ Lily groans dramatically, dragging her feet like she's walking to her own execution. @@.lily;"This is censorship. I have a right to KNOW what my brother does at school functions!"@@ <</if>>\ @@.girl;"I'm invoking parental veto,"@@ your mom says, already steering her toward the hallway. @@.girl;"Go write it on your diary."@@ @@.lily;"I don't have a diary!"@@ @@.girl;"Then you can start one. Goodnight!"@@ Lily shoots you one last look over her shoulder, her voice lowered into a whisper. @@.lily;"Tell me later. Secret sibling code."@@ She gives a mock salute and disappears up the stairs. Your mom sighs and smiles, turning her attention back to you. @@.girl;"I'm proud of you, you know,"@@ she says, just barely above a whisper. @@.girl;"Whatever happened tonight, I hope you felt like you belonged. You're growing into yourself so beautifully."@@ You don't know what to say to that, but she doesn't wait for a reply. She pats your arm and heads toward the kitchen, muttering something about needing a cup of chamomile before bed. You're left standing in the entryway, the soft sound of the kettle starting up in the distance, Lily's footsteps fading above, and your body finally beginning to feel heavy. You could follow your sister upstairs and answer her burning questions or you could go to the kitchen and talk with your mom while the tea gets ready. Or you could head to your room, close the door, and fall straight into bed. <<button "Go see Lily" "Day 20 - Lily 1">>\<<set $d20lily to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_end_visit" "lily" "story">><</button>> <<button "Go see Mom" "Day 20 - Mom 1">>\<<set $d20mom to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_end_visit" "mom" "story">><</button>> <<button "Go to bed" "Day 20 - 18">><<trackChoice "D20_end_visit" "bed" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $bra to 69>>\ <<set $bind to false>>\ The house is quiet now and you're finally in bed, tucked under the blanket. You lie there, staring at the ceiling. There's a faint throb in your feet from too many steps in boots, the echo of music still pulsing. Tomorrow, something will happen. You don't know what. You don't know why. But it feels like the kind of thing you can't stop even if you tried. So you let your eyes slip closed, thoughts blurring at the edges and drift off to sleep. <<button "Sunday" "Day 21 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> Your mom chuckles softly as she steps into the room, taking a small sip of tea. The smell of chamomile drifts with her, warm and soothing. She probably brewed it for herself and was drinking it right before she heard you yelling. @@.girl;"It happens,"@@ she says gently, walking over to the edge of your bed and sitting down. @@.girl;"I've done it more times than I can count. One time I got all the way to the freeway before realizing it was a holiday."@@ You let out a breathy laugh and sit next to her. She runs a hand through your hair, trying to get to flatten a little. It doesn't. @@.player;"I can't believe I did that,"@@ you say, gesturing vaguely to yourself. @@.player;"I was about to start brushing my teeth. If you didn't tell me, I might've sprinted out the door in mismatched shoes."@@ She smiles at that, the corners of her eyes creasing. @@.player;"And the best part?"@@ you add, holding up your phone for dramatic effect. @@.player;"There wasn't even an alarm. I just panicked on instinct. My body betrayed me."@@ @@.girl;"Poor thing,"@@ she says, setting her mug down on the nightstand. @@.girl;"You've had a lot going on lately. You went shopping, and with the game last night..."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It was kind of a lot."@@ There's a quiet moment between you, with the only sound you can hear being the neighbor's dog barking. Then she reaches over and brushes a piece of hair away from your eye, her fingers cool and gentle. @@.girl;"Are you planning on going to Homecoming tonight?"@@ she asks, her voice light but careful. You glance at her, then back at your lap, where your phone still rests in your hands. It's turned itself off. You tap it once just to have something to do. @@.player;"...I'm thinking about it,"@@ you say after a moment. She hums, nodding slowly, like she's giving you time to find the shape of your own thoughts. @@.girl;"I remember my senior year Homecoming,"@@ she says suddenly, smiling to herself as she leans back like she's settling into a memory. @@.girl;"It was... oh, gosh. 1999, maybe? I had this spaghetti strap dress from Sears. I thought I was //so// cool."@@ She's already off. @@.girl;"And I tried to do one of those zigzag parts in my hair, because it was all the rage back then, but mine just looked horrible. I begged your grandma to let me borrow her purse. She let me borrow it, but it was tiny. It could only fit, like, a tube of lipstick."@@ @@.girl;"I went with a boy named Marcus Vasquez,"@@ she continues. @@.girl;"Very cute. Great smile. He wore this powder blue tuxedo with ruffles. Ruffles, $name. Apparently, his mom picked it out. I thought it was charming. He thought it was ugly. He ''really'' wanted to impress me."@@ @@.girl;"We danced to //...Baby One More Time//. Britney Spears, I'm sure you've heard the song at least once. It's a classic."@@ Her eyes are distant in that way adults get when they think they're giving you something meaningful, but they're really just recounting their teenage history. @@.girl;"And then, get this, his shoe came off during a dance! It just flew away. He kicked the other one off to match. Danced the rest of the night in his socks. I thought that was the coolest thing I'd ever seen."@@ She looks at you fondly, eyes sparkling with parental glee. It's clear she knows she sounds ridiculous, but is telling you anyway. <<button "I don't have a date, is that okay?" "Day 20 - 3">>\<<set $d20momq to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D19_mom_question" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "I can't believe this is my last high school Homecoming" "Day 20 - 3">>\<<set $d20momq to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D19_mom_question" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't really care about what you did 25 years ago, Mom" "Day 20 - 3">>\<<set $d20momq to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D19_mom_question" 2 "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20momq is 0>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I don't have a date,"@@ you say, the words coming out more hesitantly than you expected. @@.player;"Is that... okay?"@@ Your mom blinks at you, caught a little off guard. It's not by the question itself, but rather the way you asked it. She takes a few seconds before turning toward you, resting one hand on the bed between you both. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ she says, her voice gentle, @@.girl;"of course that's okay."@@ You shift a little on the edge of the mattress, not quite looking at her, but not turning away either. @@.girl;"You don't need a date to go,"@@ she continues. @@.girl;"And you definitely don't need one to have a good time. I promise."@@ You nod a little, not sure what to say. It's not like you were desperate for one. But when everyone else is pairing up, when you hear people talking about who's taking who and what outfits match what necklace, it's hard not to feel like you're supposed to show up with someone. Your mom must see that flicker of doubt still hanging around your eyes, because she leans in a little, her voice softening even more. @@.girl;"Can I tell you something?"@@ she asks. @@.player;"Sure,"@@ you murmurs. @@.girl;"I've learned, maybe a little too late, that the only person who can really make you happy... is you."@@ She gives your hand a light squeeze. @@.girl;"You know, for a long time, I kept thinking if I just had the right person, or the right job, or people saw me a certain way... I'd feel okay. Like I'd finally be happy. But it doesn't work like that. No one thing fixes everything. Life's still hard. People are still complicated. What matters about today is not whether you bring a date or what people think of you, it's whether or not you have a good time and have fun. That's what I want you to keep in mind, $name. I want you to be happy more than anything else."@@ You let her words settle. @@.girl;"Got a little serious there, huh?"@@ she asks, smiling sheepishly. @@.girl;"Sorry. I meant to keep it light. I was just thinking about how far you've come lately. And I guess I didn't want you going into tonight thinking you had to meet anyone's expectations but your own."@@ The corner of your mouth tugs upward despite yourself. Then, without saying anything, you lean over and rest your head against her shoulder. She puts a hand on your head and ruffles your hair lightly. No pressure. No rush. Just a mother and her child sharing a moment. <<elseif $d20momq is 1>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I can't believe this is my last high school Homecoming,"@@ you say, voice low and thoughtful. You feel like you were running around the playground just a few days ago, and now here you are. Your mom chuckles. Not because she isn't taking your feelings seriously, but rather because she knows this feeling all too well. @@.girl;"I remember my high school graduation,"@@ she says, smiling faintly. @@.girl;"After I went home, I looked at myself in the mirror and I was absolutely convinced that that night was the end of something huge. I cried. A lot, actually. I couldn't believe this part of my life was over."@@ She glances over at you, her voice steady but warm. @@.girl;"And in a way, I was right. It //was// the end of something. High school gave me so many moments, so many memories. But what I didn't understand yet is that endings like this are just the start of something else."@@ You nod. @@.girl;"I know it probably feels like everything's moving way too quickly. And you're not wrong. Everything does move quickly. It doesn't slow down. But you're eighteen, $name. You've barely taken your first step out the door, and there's a whole world waiting for you outside."@@ You finally look at her then. @@.player;"That's... kinda comforting."@@ @@.girl;"Growing up really sneaks up on you, huh?"@@ she asks. @@.girl;"You know, when I was your age, I thought I was old. Eighteen, an adult. But now that I'm in my forties, I look at you and still see someone that's //so// young. Not in a bad way. Just full of time. Full of possibility. $name, you're not behind. You're not running out of anything."@@ @@.player;"I just thought I'd feel more like a grown-up by now,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"But everything still feels like I'm just pretending. Like I'm still a kid, but taller."@@ That makes her smile. @@.girl;"Sweetie, everyone feels like that. We're all confused people in a confused world doing the best we can. And I'm so, so proud of who you've grown up to be so far. I can't wait to see more."@@ You nod, soaking in the words. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say. @@.girl;"Anytime,"@@ she replies. She sets her mug aside and reaches out, wrapping her arms around you in a slow, deliberate hug. You hesitate for a half second before hugging her back. @@.girl;"You've got a lot more firsts coming, you know,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"So don't let one last thing convince you it's all behind you. It's not. It's barely even gotten started."@@ <<elseif $d20momq is 2>>\ @@.player;"I don't really care what you did 25 years ago, Mom."@@ <<if $momRelo > 89>>\ The words come out sharper than you meant them to, but you don't take them back. You're still tired, still in these rumpled cargo shorts, your chest tight from the spike of adrenaline from the morning panic. There's a long pause. You don't hear her sip her tea. You don't hear her laugh. You don't hear anything, actually. When you finally glance over, she's still sitting on your bed, but her expression has changed. She's not angry, your mom's never really been the yelling type. She's not even disappointed, exactly. Just... quiet. She tucks her hands into the sleeves of her robe and lowers her gaze, her mouth pressing into a soft line. @@.girl;"I thought I could talk about that now,"@@ she says carefully. @@.girl;"With how things have been lately."@@ You don't say anything. @@.girl;"I know I'm not always the easiest person to talk to,"@@ she continues, gently. @@.girl;"I know I try too hard sometimes, or say things at the wrong time. But when I came in here, and you were listening, I thought maybe we were finally..."@@ She trails off like she doesn't want to say it out loud. She looks down at the floor. @@.girl;"I was hoping to get to know you better,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"And I thought it'd only be fair for you to get to know me better, too."@@ That last part is quiet. She's not bitter or trying to guilt-trip you. She's just being honest. She lets out a breath through her nose and carefully stands up. She doesn't look mad or like she's on the verge of tears. She just looks... older. Smaller. @@.girl;"Well... I won't bother you then,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"There's a few microwavables in the kitchen if you're hungry. Or I can cook you something, if you want. Just let me know."@@ She smiles again, but it's small. Then she turns and walks to the door, not closing it all the way behind her. She doesn't slam or sigh, leaving only a door that's cracked open, waiting for you to step through. <<else>>\ The words come out sharper than you meant them to. They're flat, tired, and a little edged from the lingering fog. Yet, despite all that, they linger. It's a sentence that shouldn't really have even been imagined, let alone said. A part of you expects her to laugh it off. Maybe she'll tease you about being cranky in the morning or make some corny comeback about how at least //her// Homecoming didn't involve "panic cargo shorts." But she doesn't. After a few agonizing seconds of silence, you finally glance over. She's still sitting next to you on your bed, hands folded in her lap. The mug has been forgotten on the nightstand. Her expression isn't angry. She's not going to yell at you, but that might just be easier. Instead, she just looks smaller. @@.girl;"...Right. Of course."@@ She forces a smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. @@.girl;"I guess I'm showing my age, huh?"@@ she says. @@.girl;"I just thought it might... I don't know. Never mind."@@ She picks up her mug again, but doesn't bother drinking from it. Just cradles it as if it might warm something that your words left cold. You shift uncomfortably, but she doesn't say anything else. No reminder of everything she's done for you. No mention of the night she stayed up washing your clothes after you fell asleep, or how she rearranged her schedule so she could drive you across town to a camp you only stuck with for two weeks. No stories about the little things she remembers: how you hated itchy tags on your shirts or how you once cried because you thought she'd forgotten your birthday, even though she'd spent weeks planning the surprise. She just sits there for a moment longer. Then she stands, brushing a wrinkle from her robe, like it gives her something to do. @@.girl;"Well... I won't bother you then,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"There's a few microwavables in the kitchen if you're hungry. Or I can cook you something, if you want. Just let me know."@@ She smiles again, but it's small. Then she turns and walks to the door, not closing it all the way behind her. She doesn't slam or sigh, leaving only a door that's cracked open, waiting for you to step through. <</if>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 4">><</button>>

<<set $pants to 8>>\ The rest of the morning settles into something calm. After breakfast, you shuffle back into your room, still in your pajamas, and plop down in your desk chair with a sigh. Your monitor flickers to light as you open up your school folder. You dig out the half-finished assignment you've been avoiding, and start chipping away at it. You work through some history reading, then a calculus worksheet, watch some random YouTube videos, then go back to English. It's not fun, exactly, but it has to be done. You lose track of time, which helps. A little before noon, Lily bursts into your room. Her hair's a mess, and she's wearing a random T-shirt that seems to be yours. The sleeves are nearly to her elbows. @@.lily;"You're still in pajamas?"@@ she asks. @@.player;"So are you,"@@ you comment. @@.lily;"Yeah, but I'm not the one who's pretending to be productive."@@ @@.player;"I'm not pretending,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"I'm actually trying to get some work done."@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, yeah,"@@ she says, flopping onto your bed. You spin around in your chair to face your little sister. @@.player;"Why are you wearing my shirt?"@@ @@.lily;"It's comfy,"@@ she says simply. @@.player;"But it's //mine//."@@ @@.lily;"Ugh, you weren't even using it,"@@ Lily says, rolling her eyes. @@.lily;"You're so greedy. I don't want to deal with you. I'm going."@@ @@.player;"Make sure to close the door behind you,"@@ you state as she gets up. Lily strolls out, leaving the door open. You sit back in your chair and glance at the clock. Still plenty of time left until you have to get ready. The rest of the afternoon blurs together. You finish your assignments, reward yourself with a snack, and spend the next two hours getting lost in a game. You get a few messages from Samantha and Luke, and have a quick conversation with each of them. Around 4, you take a break to stretch, wander the kitchen, and swipe the last packet of gummy bears before Lily gets to it. She appears just in time to see you unwrap it and gives you a look. You ignore it. She mutters something under her breath and steals your charger in silent retaliation. By the time six o'clock hits, you're back at your desk. You're still in pajamas. You haven't even thought of what you're going to wear yet. But the light outside has basically disappeared, and it's time to get ready. <<button "Time to prepare" "Day 20 - 5">><</button>>

<<set $top to 27>>\ <<set $pants to 20>>\ <<set $shoes to 10>>\ The sun has fully disappeared. Outside your window, the sky is an inky black, streetlamps flickering on and casting pools of light. You roll your neck with a quiet groan and stand up, stretching a little. Your hair's a mess, your pants are wrinkled, and there's a stain on your shirt. You sigh, turn toward the closet, and tug open the sliding door. Tucked in the back is the suit. You slowly pull it out, like you're expecting it to weigh more than it does. It's a plain black two-piece, the one you got when you had to attend that wedding two years ago. Your mom says it still fits, even though you haven't tried it on in a while. It smells like dry air, old fabric, and something faintly like cedar. You shake it out and lay it across your bed. You move slowly, buttoning up the shirt and adjusting the collar. The pants come next. They're stiff, formal, and looser than you remember. You have to wrestle with the belt a little. The jacket slips on last, the fabric brushing your arms. It's a certain feel you only get from clothes intended for events. You don't know what you expected. But when you finally look up at the mirror across the room, it isn't this. She's already looking at you. You stop and blink, but she doesn't go away. She's not a reflection. Not really. She's you, yeah, but not as you are now. Not in the suit. Instead, she's wearing a dress. Black, simple, flowing just above the knees. Her hair falls differently, long and silky, even a little curled at the end. The heels on her feet make her stand taller. Her posture is straighter, more confident. And, most importantly, she's staring back at you like she's been waiting. Your hand twitches at your side. You end up just staring for a long moment before finally shifting your weight. She does too. There's a strange sense of familiarity to her. It's not recognition, exactly. It's more like you're looking at someone you //almost// know. The same way a song can sound familiar even if you're hearing it for the first time. You take a small step forward. The floor creaks under your heel. She lifts a hand at the same time you do, fingers mirroring yours perfectly. You let your hands touch the mirror, close enough to feel it's cool surface. The two of you are separated by nothing but glass. <<set $otherSideCG to true>>\ <<set $otherSideCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $otherSideCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $otherSideCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $otherSideCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_OtherSide">>\ The space between you feels thinner than it really should. You don't know what this means. You don't know why you imagined your reflection like this. And you especially don't know how you feel. <<button "She's who I want to be" "Day 20 - 6">>\<<set $d20otherside to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_otherside_trans" true "story">><</button>> <<button "She's everything I don't want to be" "Day 20 - 6">>\<<set $d20otherside to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_otherside_trans" false "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20otherside is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D20othersideyes">>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You don't know how long you've been standing there. The room feels quiet in the way it gets when the rest of the world starts to fall away. It's like time itself is softening around the edges. Your hand is still raised, fingers resting just above the glass, and she's still there on the other side. She's watching you with your own eyes, wearing something you've never worn, standing in a version of your body you've never had. And she looks right. Not in some grand, cinematic way. Not like a dream come true or a wish granted. Just... right. Like a puzzle piece that fits in a space you hadn't even you hadn't even noticed was empty until now. Your chest tightens, but not from fear. It's something else. Something quieter. Something closer to ache than anxiety, closer to hope than confusion. You've been looking at her for minutes now, really looking, and there's this pressure behind your eyes. It's like your brain is just barely catching up to something your heart already know. She's you. Or... she could be. You don't look away, but you don't even //want// to look away. There's a weight in your throat as the thought rises, uninvited but undeniable: //She's who I want to be.// The realization hits you like a freight train. It doesn't feel like a decision or a leap or a revelation that crashes through your entire world. It feels like remembering something. Like finally noticing the thing that's been on the edge of your vision for years. Just out of focus and just quiet enough to miss. You think about how long you've been pretending you were neutral. That you didn't care. That this spell, this "curse", was just something to manage or reverse or fight through. That you were riding it out, one step at a time, until you got your body back. Your //real// self back. But now, looking at her, at you, standing in that dress with her hair done and that slight smile... Fuck. You want to be her. You want to look like that. You want people to see you and know you belong. You want to feel the fabric of that dress hug your waist, feel your hair bounce when you laugh, feel what it's like to stand like that and not have to fake the comfort. You want to walk through a room and not feel like you're wearing someone else's clothes. You want to move and not feel like you're being watched through a window. You don't want the curse reversed. You want the spell to keep going. You don't even know when it stopped being a curse. Maybe it never really was. The thought is terrifying. Not because it's wrong, but because it isn't. The feeling wrapped around you so quickly that you don't know how to argue with it. You don't even want to. You press your cheek to the mirror, hard enough to feel the chill of the glass. Maybe if you get close enough, you'll be able to hear her. Your breathing shakes a little. You don't know what this means for tomorrow, or next week, or for everything you thought you knew about yourself. But standing here, you finally feel something click into place. You aren't just looking at who you could be. You're looking at who you are. <<else>>\ You don't know how long you've been standing here, staring at her. The room around you has gone quiet as the rest of the world starts to fall away. All you can hear is the soft rustle of your own breathing and the faint thud of your pulse behind your ears. You'd just been getting ready, doing something simple and routine. But now you're here, frozen in front of the mirror. She's still you. That part is undeniable. It's not like your brain is pretending otherwise. You know your own eyes when you see them. But the rest of her is softer, smoother, and more graceful. The dress hugs her in all the right places. She doesn't smile, but only because she doesn't //need// to. And something inside you says: //She's who I want to be.// You don't recoil from the thought or panic. It just lands quietly inside you. It's a little strange. You weren't the kind of kid who ever wished to be a girl. You didn't play dress-up or steal your mom's makeup. You didn't dream of different names or lives. You were just... a boy. A little awkward, a little quiet, and maybe unsure of yourself sometimes, but never anything that made you think your gender was anything worth questioning. The thought never really crossed your mind. But now, standing here in this suit, staring at the girl in the mirror... you don't feel any fear. No shame or resistance. There's something beautiful about her. Not just in the way she looks, though that's definitely part of it. It's really in the way she stands. She looks like someone who doesn't have to explain herself to anyone. Someone who's allowed to just be. You blink, but she doesn't disappear. You don't know exactly when things started to shift. Maybe it was the first time you transformed and didn't hate it. Or the way people started treating you when they thought you were someone else, and you didn't mind being mistaken. Maybe it was the way you began moving differently, without even noticing. Maybe it was how you started to feel when you looked at yourself and saw something new, and didn't flinch. It wasn't one moment. I twas all of them, slowly adding up into... acceptance. You like her. You like //being// her. You like what this reflection shows you. It feels right. You're still figuring this out. There's a lot you don't know. There's a lot you're scared of. But right now, in this quiet moment, you look at her and don't want to look away. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d20otherside is false>>\ <<grantAchievement "D20othersideno">>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ You stare at her. The girl in the dress perfectly mirrors you, standing where you are. Her dress fits beautifully, her posture is delicate, and she looks happy in a way that makes your stomach twist. You take a breath, and it comes out too shallow. You don't notice your hand pulling back until you feel your own fingertips curl into your palm. //She's everything I don't want to be.// The thought lands with more weight than you expect. You tell yourself it's true. You hate this. Not her, but rather what she represents. You stare harder, jaw clenched, like maybe you can make her disappear if you glare long enough. Like if you're just sure enough about who you are, she'll go away. But she doesn't. She just looks back like she knows the truth. You tell yourself this is the curse talking. Some side effect or psychological trick or hallucination. It's definitely warping your sense of self, trying to convince you of something that isn't real. You don't want that. You're not //supposed// to want that. You're fine in the suit. You don't look great or amazing or anything like that, but you do look normal. Normal is good, isn't it? Normal is safe. You've spent years building this version of yourself up, and you know what it looks like. You can play that part. The girl in the mirror, on the other hand, isn't normal. She's the wrong choice, and you can't let the curse win. You tell yourself all this as you keep looking at her. And yet, despite all that, your throat feels thick. There's something so god damn unbearable about the way she watches you. She looks like she's just waiting, and that somehow feels worse. You want to smash the mirror and yell at her to stop copying you. You want to say this isn't you and was never supposed to be you. But you can't. Instead, you take a step back. Your hand drops to your side. Your reflection (the real one) returns. You in the suit with your fists clenched, trying to hold it together. The girl is a trick, a mistake, and a distortion. You don't want this because this isn't who you are. You repeat it in your head like a desperate plea. And yet, the worst part is that some part of you is wishing she'd come back. Just in case. <<else>>\ You stare at her and the girl in the mirror stares right back. She's you. Or at least, that's what the curse wants you to think. You feel it creep in again, that cold weight in your chest. It's familiar now. The curse always has a way of fucking doing this. Twisting things, slipping under your skin without asking, turning your own reflection against you. You know it by now. You //expect// it. The little nudges. The way you feel uncomfortable no matter what you do. The way your body feels different some mornings. The way your shirts fit wrong lately. And now this. You glance down at yourself. You only see your own hands and your own suit. Your body feels normal. Yours. But the mirror keeps trying to rewrite it. Keeps showing you her. You look at her. Really look. And the only thought that comes is: She's everything I don't want to be. There's no confusion or longing in it. Just rejection. You don't want the heels. You don't want the soft eyes or the curves or the posture. You don't want any of it. That's not who you are. That's not who you've ever been. You're a guy. Simple as that. Always have been. Always will be. The whole thing is just the curse trying to get in your head again. Trying to mess with you. Trying to make you question things that don't need questioning. You don't need to dissect why she's in the mirror, or what she's supposed to mean. Why? Because you already know. She's bait. She's not a possibility. She's a trap. You take a step back, massing your eyes, trying to shake off the fog that seems to settle in every time this happens. Your stomach twists with frustration. This curse still has this kind of grip. It keeps pushing this image at you. It's like you're supposed to want it. You don't. You never have. You reach for the edge of your desk, grounding yourself. You take a slow breath, then another. Firmly, you state, @@.player;"That's not me."@@ The strange reflection fades, leaving you seeing your true reflection. She can stay in the mirror. That's where she belongs. You've got a party to get to. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 7">><</button>>

You smooth your suit jacket, fingers brushing down each sleeve, before turning away and opening your door. The hallway is dim and quiet, filled with the soft scent of whatever candle your mom lit earlier. It's something warm and cozy. Nutmeg, maybe. You descend the stairs one at a time, hand trailing along the bannister, the wood cool beneath your fingers. You reach the bottom step, and your mom's already there. Her eyes widen a little as she takes you in. @@.girl;"Oh, sweetheart,"@@ she says, a warm rush of breath, @@.girl;"look at you."@@ You give a little smile, unsure what to do with yourself. She steps closer immediately, brushing invisible dust from your shoulder before pulling your left sleeve. @@.girl;"Your cuff's folded,"@@ she murmurs. @@.girl;"Hold still."@@ You do. She smooths the fabric down, then adjusts the collar, then tugs gently at the hem of your blazer. @@.girl;"You always manage to grow when I'm not looking,"@@ she says, stepping back to examine her work. @@.girl;"It still fits you, though."@@ @@.player;"It's fine,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Better than I remembered, honestly."@@ She smiles and gives your shoulder a gentle pat. @@.girl;"Have a good time tonight, okay?"@@ she says, her voice softening. @@.girl;"Don't worry about anything. Just enjoy yourself."@@ You nod, trying not to overthink the lump forming at the base of your throat. @@.player;"I will."@@ Before she can get too sentimental, another voice cuts through the moment. @@.lily;"Well //that's// a look,"@@ Lily says from the living room couch, her legs curled up beneath her. She has a giant bowl of popcorn on her lap, and it's already half-eaten. @@.lily;"You look like you're about to attend a work meeting."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ @@.lily;"Make sure to trip and fall or something,"@@ Lily says, tossing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. @@.lily;"I want to hear a story when you get back home."@@ @@.player;"I'll see what I can do."@@ @@.lily;"You'd better. I expect a full report."@@ You're already reaching for the door when your mom speaks up. @@.girl;"Text me when you get there,"@@ she says. @@.player;"I will."@@ @@.girl;"And again when you're on the way home."@@ You nod. @@.player;"I know."@@ She gives you one last once-over. Her hands linger a moment, then drops. @@.girl;"Go have fun."@@ You open the door and step outside, ready for the party. <<button "Homecoming" "Day 20 - 8">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<grantAchievement "D20homecoming">>\ The gym is almost unrecognizable. You step through the front doors and are immediately hit with a wave of music, chatter, and color. There's a large disco ball in the middle that's glowing purple. A bunch of balloons and snack tables have been set up. A balloon arch looms over the entrance, a little crooked but still impressive, and the faint scent of punch and chips clings to the air. The floor's packed with students. Some are already dancing, while others are chatting or loitering. The DJ booth is set up on the far end, thumping bass echoing faintly. It's loud, it's warm, and it's chaotic, but not in a bad way. You shift slightly, adjusting your collar, unsure where to go first. That is, until a familiar voice calls out over the crowd. @@.luke;"Yo! $name!"@@ You glance up just in time to see Luke jogging over, a big grin on his face. He claps a hand on your back with that energy he always seems to have, practically radiating warmth. @@.luke;"Dude,"@@ he says, stepping back to look at you. @@.luke;"You look good. Like, actually good. Sharp."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You say that like it's surprising."@@ @@.samantha;"That's 'cause it //is// surprising,"@@ comes Samantha's voice from behind him, dry as ever. @@.samantha;"I don't know about sharp. I will say you look presentable, though."@@ You turn to see her walking up beside him, dressed in something surprisingly formal. A sleek black skirt, tights, a soft blouse, and a silver necklace. Her hair's not beneath a beanie, and for once, she doesn't look like she just walked out of Threadz. Still sarcastic, though. You smirk. @@.player;"Thanks, I think."@@ @@.luke;"I mean, he actually dressed up,"@@ Luke cuts in, gesturing vaguely at your suit. @@.luke;"That's gotta count for something, right?"@@ @@.samantha;"Literally everyone dressed up, Luke,"@@ Samantha states, crossing her arms. @@.samantha;"Even //I// dressed up. You're the only one who hasn't."@@ You look down at his shirt properly for the first time and blink. He's still in his usual graphic tee with the stupid dog on it. His idea of "dressed up" seems to be that his sneakers only look slightly beat up. @@.player;"...Really?"@@ you say. He shrugs. @@.luke;"Hey. I ironed it."@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, you did not iron that,"@@ Samantha says. @@.luke;"I did! I like tugged on it from time to time to make sure it was all straight. Same thing."@@ You snort, trying not to laugh, and Samantha just groans. @@.samantha;"I swear,"@@ she mutters, turning slightly like she's about to walk away. @@.samantha;"If I get photographed next to you, I'm denying that I even know you."@@ Luke grins, completely unbothered. @@.luke;"You love me."@@ @@.samantha;"Tragically,"@@ she says, already slipping into the crowd. @@.samantha;"Come find me if you grow a fashion sense."@@ He watches her go, then turns back to you with a shrug. @@.luke;"She does look good, though. Not gonna lie."@@ @@.player;"She really does."@@ @@.luke;"Anyway, I'm gonna go say hi to Coach real quick. He's doing security tonight. Think he'll let me have some extra snacks if I bug him enough?"@@ @@.player;"I think that's called nepotism."@@ Luke winks. @@.luke;"I don't know what that means."@@ He claps you on the back again, then follows after Samantha, disappearing into the mess of students and lights. You're left standing near the entrance, the room spinning with laughter. You take a slow breath before starting forward, into the night you almost didn't come to. <<button "Head to the refreshment tables" "Day 20 - 9">>\<<set $d20homecomingfirst to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_first_activity" "refreshment tables" "story">><</button>> <<button "Check out the photo booth" "Day 20 - 9">>\<<set $d20homecomingfirst to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_first_activity" "photo booth" "story">><</button>> <<button "Sit at the bleachers" "Day 20 - 9">>\<<set $d20homecomingfirst to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_first_activity" "bleachers" "story">><</button>> <<button "Hang by the wall" "Day 20 - 9">>\<<set $d20homecomingfirst to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D20_first_activity" "wall" "story">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/school-gym-bts.png"> <<if $d20homecomingfirst is 0>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You ease your way through the crowd, weaving between clusters of students and glimmering decorations, until you make your way to one of the many refreshment tables. There are some assorted snacks, along with hand-drawn signs that say things like "Help Yourself!" and "Two Cookies Max (StuCo's Watching)" in bubbly handwriting. The table is stocked with the usual: a few giant plastic bowls with gummy bears, some soda bottles slowly losing their fizz, trays of cookies, and little paper boats filled with pretzels, chips, and puffs. There's also a fruit tray that's already empty. And standing right in front of it all, completely content, is Luke. He's holding a paper plate absolutely loaded with food: two cookies, a pile of chips, something that looks like meatballs stabbed with toothpicks, and a frankly impressive pyramid of mini brownies balanced in the corner. He's got a cup of punch in his other hand, and he's mid-bite when he notices you walking up. His face lights up. @@.luke;"Ayyy! $name!"@@ You stop in front of him, staring at his plate. @@.player;"You really came all the way to Homecoming just to eat?"@@ Luke doesn't even pretend to be ashamed. He swallows, lifts a chip, and says, @@.luke;"The game yesterday was exhausting, man. I burned like, at least 3000 calories."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"So what is this? Recovery?"@@ @@.luke;"Exactly!"@@ he says, nodding. @@.luke;"Coach said I needed to fuel up. I'm ninety percent muscle and, like, three percent frosted brownie right now."@@ You laugh, grabbing a handful of chips for yourself. @@.player;"That's not how math works."@@ @@.luke;"It is when you believe in yourself."@@ He munches another chip like he's proving a point, then licks the orange dust off his fingers with way too much confidence. The jacket tied around his waist has a little smear of chocolate. He doesn't seem to notice. Luke grabs a cookie and holds it up like he's making a toast. @@.luke;"To carbs."@@ You clink your chips against it. @@.player;"To carbs."@@ You watch him for a moment, the carefree way he moves, the way his shoulders are relaxed and his smile comes easy. You've known him so long that sometimes you forget how good he is at making you feel content. Steady. Like nothing's ever really that big of a deal, even if it is. And now that you're here, standing next to him, you have a few different options for how to spend this moment. <<button "Tease Luke about his attire" "Day 20 - 10">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_luke_interact" "tease" "story">><</button>> <<button "Thank Luke for being around" "Day 20 - 10">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_luke_interact" "thank" "story">><</button>> <<button "Probe if he has any interest in you" "Day 20 - 10">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_luke_interact" "probe interest" "story">><</button>> <<elseif $d20homecomingfirst is 1>>\ <<set $samanthaRelo to Math.clamp($samanthaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d18shop is 3>>\ The photo booth is set up in a corner of the gym. There are strands of warm LED lights, a navy backdrop with glittery gold stars, a little wooden bench, and a folding table cluttered with props. A large white ring is in front of the bench, casting everything in an artificial glow. Samantha and Jessica are already there, standing just off to the side of the booth. They're clearly deep in conversation, oblivious to the noise and chaos around them. Jessica sips something carbonated out of a paper cup while Samantha stands with her arms crossed and a look of theatrical boredom on her face. @@.jessica;"I still can't believe you're wearing something not from Threadz,"@@ Jessica teases, nudging Samantha's arm lightly. @@.jessica;"This is, like, the first time I've seen you in a skirt. You're always in graphic tees and those jeans."@@ Samantha scoffs without missing a beat. @@.samantha;"Yeah, well, someone said 'formal' and I figured that mean dressing like an adult and not actually cool."@@ Jessica smirks. @@.jessica;"Wow. And yet, you're here wearing tights and a blouse looking like you didn't crawl out of a crypt. I'm proud of you."@@ @@.samantha;"I //tried// to crawl out of a crypt,"@@ Samantha replies dryly. @@.samantha;"But my mom said I couldn't. Also, I didn't want to look like I put in //that// little effort."@@ Jessica laughs, tossing her hair over one shoulder. @@.jessica;"You're ridiculous."@@ @@.samantha;"You're just mad I look better than you do."@@ @@.jessica;"I'm not mad,"@@ Jessica says sweetly. @@.jessica;"Just impressed you managed to iron something."@@ They both laugh, and for a moment, they seem like total opposites somehow perfectly in sync. Despite all their bickering, there's a certain comfort to the way they talk. A strange but real sort of friendship. That's when Jessica glances Samantha's shoulder and spots you. @@.jessica;"$name!"@@ she says brightly, her voice cutting through the buzz of the crowd. She raises a hand to wave you over, her face lighting up with an easy, genuine smile. @@.jessica;"You made it!"@@ Samantha turns, and her expression shifts into something pleased. @@.samantha;"About time,"@@ she says, eyeing you up and down with a smirk. @@.samantha;"Took you long enough to show up."@@ You make your way through the crowd, smoothing your jacket instinctively as you walk. <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>> Jessica leans in a little closer, her voice soft but playful. @@.jessica;"You look nice, by the way. The suit looks really good on you."@@ There's a warmth in her smile that lingers a second longer than expected, her eyes flicking over you with attention. You glance down, trying to brush off the sudden flutter in your chest. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, then meet her gaze again. @@.player;"You look great too."@@ She grins, maybe a little too pleased. @@.jessica;"I know,"@@ she says teasingly, but there's a slight blush at the edges of her cheeks. <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"You look nice, by the way,"@@ Jessica comments. @@.jessica;"The suit suits you."@@ You glance down, feeling a little self-conscious under the attention anyway. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say, offering a small smile. @@.player;"You look great too."@@ She beams. @@.jessica;"Of course I do. I've been planning this outfit for a week."@@ Her tone's light and friendly. <</if>>\ Samantha folds her arms. @@.samantha;"She always looks great. It's annoying."@@ Jessica rolls her eyes. @@.jessica;"Thanks, Sam."@@ @@.samantha;"I have an idea,"@@ Samantha states, a suspiciously wide grin on your face. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 10">>\<</button>> <<else>>\ You aim for the photo booth, tucked into a corner of the gym. There are strands of warm LED lights, a navy backdrop with glittery gold stars, a little wooden bench, and a folding table cluttered with props. A large white ring is in front of the bench, casting everything in an artificial glow. You're only a few steps away when someone steps in beside you. @@.samantha;"Figures you'd come over here,"@@ says Samantha from your left. She's dressed far more formally than you're used to seeing her, but she's still got her arms crossed. Her expression is pure Samantha: unimpressed, tired, and low-key annoyed at the world. She nods toward the photo booth, her tone dry. @@.samantha;"She's here."@@ You follow her gaze and see Jessica. She's standing in the middle of a cluster of students, laughing as someone adjusts a flower crown on her head. She's radiant with perfect hair, a shimmering dress, and a wide smile. People make room for her without thinking about it. Samantha makes a face. @@.samantha;"It's, like, twice as crowded over here because she wants a photo,"@@ she mutters. @@.samantha;"Classic."@@ You glance at her. She shrugs, but her eyes stay fixed on the group. @@.samantha;"I mean, yeah, she looks great or whatever. And sure, it's Homecoming. But it's not Jessica's gala event or something. Half these people don't even want a picture, they're just hovering to be in her orbit."@@ You look back at the crowd. It's true. Jessica's surrounded by friends and classmates. She's laughing at something one of the guys said, her arm looped casually through a friend's, the whole group glittering. Samantha sighs and mutters, @@.samantha;"Still want a photo, though."@@ She fiddles with her skirt, eyes darting toward the booth as if gauging her chances. Samantha doesn't say anything else, just waiting for her chance. <<button "Push through the crowd to get a photo" "Day 20 - 10">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_photobooth" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Just leave it, maybe you can get a photo later" "Day 20 - 10">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_photobooth" 1 "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<elseif $d20homecomingfirst is 2>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You drift past the noise and motion of the gym, weaving around clusters of students and bursts of laughter, until the music fades into the background. The bleachers along the far wall are mostly empty. It's quieter here, away from all the noise and people. That's when you spot him. Vincent sits near the top row, knees drawn up slightly, sketchpad balanced carefully against one leg. He's hunched over it with quiet concentration, a mechanical pencil moving in practiced strokes. There's a tiny smudge of graphite on his cheek. his backpack sits on the step beside him, half-zipped, crammed with books and colored pencils and baked snacks. He doesn't notice you at first. You climb a few steps and ease into the seat next to him. @@.player;"Hey."@@ Vincent jumps a little, blinking up at you with his warm green eyes behind his slightly crooked glasses. His pencil pauses mid-sketch. @@.vincent;"Oh! Hey, $name. Didn't see you there."@@ He looks down quickly, then back up, clearly unsure if he should close his sketchpad or not. @@.vincent;"Sorry, I was just..."@@ He trails off. You lean over, not too close, but just enough to glimpse the page. He's drawing the gym, but from this corner, it's like seeing the party through a filter. He's caught the swirl of people as colored shadows, with tiny highlights on their faces from glowsticks and phones. The DJ booth is getting shaded. The scene is chaotic and lively, yet the way he's framed it makes it still feel... still. Thoughtful. @@.player;"You've got a good angle,"@@ you say. He smiles, a little bashful. @@.vincent;"Yeah. I figured if I sat over here, I could pretend I'm involved without actually being involved."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"And how's that going for you?"@@ @@.vincent;"Well, I came here tonight thinking maybe I'd stop being, you know, the background guy. But I think I ended up exactly where I always am. In the background."@@ He tries to laugh, but it comes out awkwardly. @@.vincent;"Still, I wanted to see what it was like,"@@ he adds, eyes flicking toward the dance floor. @@.vincent;"Everyone talks about how high school only happens once, right? Thought maybe if I came, something would click. Or I'd have a moment or something."@@ His gaze drops back to the sketchpad, and his pencil moves again, slower now. @@.vincent;"I don't know. Maybe this is my moment. Just me and my dumb little drawings."@@ There's no resentment in the way he says it. Just a quiet kind of honesty, like he's made peace with being the guy who captures the party instead of being in it. But there's also something in the way he says "maybe." You watch him for a second longer. Even though he knew he'd probably feel out of place, he still showed up. He still wants to fit in. <<button "Take Vincent by the hand and lead him to the main floor" "Day 20 - 10">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_vincent_shy" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Stay beside him and keep him company" "Day 20 - 10">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_vincent_shy" 1 "story">><</button>> <<elseif $d20homecomingfirst is 3>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You drift through the glittering fog of the gym, past the photo booth and the bustling snack tables, past groups clustered in glittery dresses and stiff jackets, until the noise dulls behind you. The light grows softer here, toward the edge of the gym. It's dimmer, warmer, almost hazy against the dark stretch of wall near the exit doors. And that's when you see them. Jordan and Aurora. Talking. What the fuck? You actually stop and rub your eyes, making sure your eyes are working correctly. Jordan, the tall football player who usually keeps his earbuds in and his arms crossed in every hallway. The one who only speaks when a teacher calls on him or someone pisses him off. And with him, Aurora. The mysterious girl that everyone's scared of, who floats from class to class like she's not quite of this world. You've literally never seen her speak to anyone unless she absolutely had to. But here they are. Not just near each other. Not just standing beside each other like two loners who happened to find the same quiet corner. They're leaning close and actually talking. Shit, not even stiff, awkward talking, either. They're relaxed. Jordan's shoulder rests against the wall, one hand in his pocket, the other drumming at the wall as he talks. Aurora's tilted slightly toward him, one foot crossed over the other, head turned. Her arms are folded, but her posture is casual, open. You can't hear much over the pulse of music and voices behind you, but you catch little pieces. @@.jordan;"...can't believe you actually read it,"@@ Jordan mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. Aurora's lips curve up just slightly. @@.aurora;"I said I did. You think I didn't mean it?"@@ @@.jordan;"I thought you were joking."@@ @@.aurora;"I don't joke."@@ Jordan snorts, looking away for half a second. @@.jordan;"Yeah, no kidding."@@ Aurora hums. It's an amused little sound you haven't heard her use often. You can't tell what they're talking about. A movie, maybe? Something about the way Jordan's fidgeting tells you he shared something with her. And she actually engaged. It's surprising. And weirdly touching. You hadn't pegged either of them as the type to find comfort in someone else, let alone in each other. And yet... Jordan nudges her shoulder lightly. @@.jordan;"Don't tell anyone, though. Seriously."@@ Aurora doesn't even bother glancing at him. @@.aurora;"Your secret's safe with me, quarterback."@@ @@.jordan;"Ugh,"@@ Jordan groans. @@.jordan;"Don't call me that."@@ @@.aurora;"I will now. Forever."@@ You bite back a smile. It's strange, but kind of nice. It's basically watching two people who usually keep their walls up let them down, if only for a minute. They haven't noticed you yet. You're still just outside their little world. You could go talk to them. <<button "Approach Jordan" "Day 20 - 10">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_wall_companion" "jordan" "story">><</button>> <<button "Approach Aurora" "Day 20 - 10">>\<<set $d20homecomingfc1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_wall_companion" "aurora" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $temp is false>>\ <<button "Check out the mural wall" "Day 20 - Mural 1">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp1 is false>>\ <<button "Check out the magic show" "Day 20 - Magic 1">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp2 is false>>\ <<button "Check out the side exit" "Day 20 - Exit 1">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp3 is false>>\ <<button "Check out the dance floor" "Day 20 - Dance 1">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp is true and $temp1 is true and $temp2 is true and $temp3 is true>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - 15">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $temp3 to true>>\ The music from the gym pulses through your shoes as you, Luke, and Samantha weave your way across the glossy floor. The bass thumps and colored lights strobe around the ceiling like a rainbow caught in motion. The dance floor isn't packed, not yet, but it's growing. People are spinning, jumping, swaying, and laughing. Samantha pulls you forward by the wrist. @@.samantha;"C'mon. You can't just go to Homecoming and not hit the dance floor at least once. That's illegal."@@ Luke follows close behind. @@.luke;"I'm not good at dancing, but I can vibe."@@ @@.samantha;"Then let's vibe!"@@ Samantha says, already rolling her shoulders to the music. You're about to say something when you spot Jessica. Right in the thick of it, shoes off, bare feet padding against the cool gym floor like she owns it. Which, in a way, she does. Her maroon heels lie abandoned by the side of the dance circle, glinting. She spins with one of her friends, laughing openly, head tilted back like she hasn't had a single worry all night. Her dress flutters with the movement, classy and sleek. Then she notices you. Jessica's eyes land on your trio with an easy flick of her gaze. Recognition spreads across her face in and instant. She waves, then weaves through her circle of friends toward you, bare feet making her glide more than walk. @@.jessica;"Hey!"@@ she calls as she nears, a little breathless from dancing but beaming. @@.jessica;"I was wondering when you guys would show up."@@ <<if $d18shop is 3>>\ She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looks at all three of you, eyes landing on Samantha with a teasing smirk. @@.jessica;"Sam, what did you say about Threadz again? That it was your home? Hmm, but the dress isn't giving off Threadz."@@ Samantha rolls her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitch upward. @@.samantha;"Don't make me regret showing up."@@ Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"You look good. Don't act like you didn't spend an hour debating what dress you should wear."@@ @@.samantha;"I did not!"@@ Samantha insists. Then, @@.samantha;"Okay, I kinda did."@@ Jessica laughs, then turns to Luke. @@.luke;"And Luke, well, I figured they'd have to drag you."@@ @@.luke;"Not dragged,"@@ Luke says proudly. @@.luke;"Lured with snacks."@@ @@.samantha;"You're so easy,"@@ Samantha mutters. <<else>>\ She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looks at all three of you, eyes barely brushing past Samantha before focusing on Luke. @@.jessica;"Samantha. Hey."@@ Her voice is polite and careful. @@.jessica;"Didn't expect to see you here."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, well,"@@ Samantha replies coolly, arms crossed. @@.samantha;"Guess miracles happen."@@ Jessica's smile doesn't falter, but it does stiffen. @@.jessica;"Luke, I figured they'd have to drag you."@@ @@.luke;"Lured, not dragged,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"With snacks, of course."@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"He'd sell his soul for a bag of cheese chips."@@ <</if>>\ <<if $jessicaRomance > 9>>\ Jessica grins, then turns to you, and something in her expression shifts. It's like it softens just for you. @@.jessica;"And you..."@@ she says, her voice dipping into something quieter, almost teasing but edged with sincerity. She leans in slightly, her eyes catching the light. @@.jessica;"You look good tonight. Seriously."@@ Her gaze lingers a beat too long and her lips curve like she's trying not to smile too much, but evidently failing. @@.jessica;"I mean, not that you didn't look good before or anything,"@@ she adds, a little too quickly. @@.jessica;"But... yeah. You clean up ''really'' well."@@ <<elseif $jessicaRelo > 29>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ Jessica grins, then turns to you with a spark of familiarity in her eyes. @@.jessica;"And you..."@@ she says warmly, nudging you lightly with her elbow. @@.jessica;"Look at you, fancy-pants. The suit works. I see you."@@ <<else>>\ Jessica grins, then turns to you with a spark of familiarity in her eyes. @@.jessica;"And you..."@@ she says warmly, nudging you lightly with her elbow. @@.jessica;"Look at you, Mr. Fancy. The suit works. I see you."@@ <</if>>\ She laughs when you duck your head, and adds, @@.jessica;"Where were you hiding this suit all this time?"@@ There's no flirtation in her tone, just the kind of fond teasing reserved for someone she genuinely likes having around. <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"You look decent,"@@ Jessica says, her tone more casual. @@.jessica;"The suit's a good luck, homeroom partner."@@ It's friendly, sure, but with distance to it. It's less personal and more... courteous. Still, it's hard not to appreciate the compliment. <</if>>\ <<if $transgender > 14>>\ The lights flash blue, then pink, then white again. <<else>>\ The lights flash blue, then black, then brown again. <</if>>\ She smiles. @@.jessica;"You gonna dance, or are you just here to stare?"@@ <<button "Only if you dance with me" "Day 20 - Dance 2">>\<<set $d20dance1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_ask_jessica" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "Yeah, sure" "Day 20 - Dance 2">>\<<set $d20dance1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_ask_jessica" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't really dance much" "Day 20 - Dance 2">>\<<set $d20dance1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_dance_ask_jessica" 2 "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20dance1 is 0>>\ <<if $transgender > 14 and $acceptance > 19>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You shoot her a grin, letting the music and the warm, electric air get to your head a little. @@.player;"Only if you dance with me,"@@ you say, cocking your head slightly. Jessica blinks, surprised for a moment. But then her lips curl into a smile, soft and sly. @@.jessica;"Oh?"@@ she says, one brow arching as she crosses her arms. @@.jessica;"Bold of you."@@ You don't back down. She notices. She leans in a little. Just close enough that you can hear her over the music but not close enough to let anyone listen in. @@.jessica;"Not right now,"@@ she says, voice dipping just slightly. @@.jessica;"But later?"@@ Her smile turns real then, eyes gleaming. @@.jessica;"I'd love to."@@ She's warm and earnest, and it's clear the way she likes what she sees from you. Behind you, Samantha raises her eyebrows, but doesn't say anything. Luke is too busy bobbing his head to the beat to notice. But right now, none of it matters. Your heart races for a reason that has nothing to do with fear. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Dance 3">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You flash her a grin and toss out, @@.player;"Only if you dance with me."@@ Jessica's smile freezes ever so slightly. A subtle shift in her eyes and a flicker of discomfort in her posture. There's a beat of silence that feels too long, stretching thin between you. Then she laughs, but it's sharp and awkward. @@.jessica;"Oh,"@@ she says, tucking her hair behind her ear as she looks away. @@.jessica;"Uh, that's a no. I don't really dance with... y'know."@@ The words are polite, technically. Samantha catches the shift and clears her throat. Luke blinks between the two of you, clueless but sensing something weird just happened. Jessica shifts her weight, clearly wanting you to move on. @@.jessica;"Anyway,"@@ she says quickly, @@.jessica;"I'm gonna grab some water. Catch you later."@@ And just like that, she's gone. Disappearing into the crowd with her heels dangling from her fingers. You stand there, the moment still ringing in your ears like feedback from a mic that cut too fast. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<elseif $d20dance1 is 1>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for only a second before shrugging, smiling. @@.player;"Yeah, sure."@@ Her eyes widen, and she lets out a cheer like she just won something. @@.jessica;"Yesss! Get over here!"@@ she says, grabbing your hand without waiting for you to move and tugging you toward the shifting lights of the dance floor. Behind you, Samantha gasps. @@.samantha;"No way, $name's actually gonna dance? Someone write this down. This is history."@@ Luke, chewing the last of something he probably snuck from the snack table, gives you an approving nod. @@.luke;"That's great, man. You keep it up and you might just catch up to my level of coolness. Eventually."@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Dance 3">><</button>> <<elseif $d20dance1 is 2>>\ @@.player;"I don't really dance much,"@@ you admit, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"Never really been my thing."@@ Jessica immediately softens. @@.jessica;"Aww,"@@ she says, clearly understanding. @@.jessica;"I get it, though. It's scary, right? Everyone looking at you, waiting to see if you mess up. Or, like, not knowing what to even do with your body."@@ You let out a breathy laugh, grateful that she didn't push or poke fun. @@.player;"Yeah. That's basically it."@@ @@.jessica;"Trust me, I get it,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"First few times I ever danced, I wanted to crawl into a hole."@@ @@.luke;"Not me!"@@ Luke says, puffing out his chest. @@.luke;"I'm great at dancing."@@ Samantha snorts immediately. @@.samantha;"No you're not."@@ Luke turns to her, indignant. @@.luke;"Yes I am!"@@ @@.samantha;"No, Luke,"@@ she says with a smirk. @@.samantha;"You think you are. But in reality? You look like a malfunctioning inflatable tube man."@@ Jessica laughs so hard she nearly doubles over. @@.jessica;"Oh my God. I've seen him dance, and she's not wrong."@@ Luke looks dramatically wounded. @@.luke;"Can't believe you'd say that about me."@@ You grin at the back-and-forth. The moment's light and easy. You still have nerves, but you also have plenty of time to dance if you feel like it. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Choice">><</button>> <</if>>\

The music is so loud now that you can feel it in your ribs. Lights swirl across the gym like spinning fireflies, and the dance floor is packed. Shoulders are brushing, laughter is echoing, and bodies move in every direction like controlled chaos. You're somewhere in the middle with Jessica by your side, both of you laughing. Samantha's nearby, vibing, and Luke's just off to the side doing a robot dance. Then a sudden shift in energy crackles through the room. The music changes and a wide circle opens up like a ripple. Students step back, forming a ring, phones up in the air. You watch as a wiry guy in a white button-down and untied tie slides into the center like he owns the floor. Someone shouts his name, saying, @@.boy;"Go, Daniel!"@@ He immediately starts spinning into a wild series of breakdance moves. Headspins, windmills, and some combos that are so insane that he looks like he's defying gravity. The crowd goes absolutely feral. Cheers explode. Someone screams @@.boy;"PACIFIC CREST, BABY!"@@ like it's a battle cry. Jessica whistles next to you. @@.jessica;"Damn, Daniel. Who knew he had that in him."@@ You laugh, genuinely impressed. @@.player;"I swear I saw him devouring chips like an hour ago."@@ @@.jessica;"That's the duality of man,"@@ Jessica says, eyes still on the center. Daniel ends his routine with a freeze, then scrambles up with a sheepish grin. He throws up peace signs like a rockstar and stumbles back into the crowd. Then, someone suddenly shoves you from behind. @@.samantha;"$name, go!!!"@@ Samantha's voice. You stumble forward, not expecting it, and the crowd immediately reacts. A spotlight of shouts and camera flashes lands on you. Hands pat your back as you're pushed into the middle of the dance circle. The music shifts again. You blink in the lights, surrounded by a circle of your peers, phones out and chanting your name. <<set $uppercasename to $name.toUpperCase()>> @@.boy;"$uppercasename! $uppercasename! $uppercasename!"@@ You spin slowly, trying to buy time, heart pounding. Jessica cups her hands around her mouth. @@.jessica;"You got this!"@@ Samantha yells, @@.samantha;"Make it iconic!"@@ Luke just hollers, @@.luke;"DO SOMETHING STUPID, DUDE!"@@ You take a breath and center yourself. It's your time to shine. <<button "The Moonwalk" "Day 20 - Dance 4">>\<<set $d20dance2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_jessica_dance_style" "moonwalk" "story">><</button>> <<button "The Gangnam Style Dance" "Day 20 - Dance 4">>\<<set $d20dance2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_jessica_dance_style" "gangnam style" "story">><</button>> <<button "The Griddy" "Day 20 - Dance 4">>\<<set $d20dance2 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_jessica_dance_style" "griddy" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20dance2 is 0>>\ The beat pulses under your skin, but your heart beats even louder. You stand there for a second in the center of the dance circle, eyes darting around at the sea of faces. With the smallest of smirks, you drop your gaze and take one smooth step back. Your heel glides. The other follows. Another steps. Then another. The crowd gasps. It's a little at first, but then it starts building. A roar that rises with every seamless slide of your feet across the gym floor. It's like time slows down, the music unable to keep up with you as your shoes skim the surface of the gym like they were meant to do this. Just a crisp, clean, effortlessly cool moonwalk. @@.boy;"NO WAY!"@@ someone yells from the crowd. @@.girl;"THAT'S MJ!"@@ another shouts, awe in their voice. @@.boy;"The return of Jackson, bro!"@@ someone howls. You let yourself spin at the end, just once. You grab the imaginary hat on your head and give it a playful tip. The crowd absolutely erupts. Clapping, whooping, some even stomping the gym floor. A chorus of unfiltered, joyous chaos surrounds you. Someone actually kneels as a joke. @@.boy;"WE ARE NOT WORTHY!"@@ Another student just yells, @@.girl;"$uppercasename YOOONNN!"@@ Your face is hot, but your smile's impossible to hide. You wave off the crowd as you back away, the spotlight drifting off of you now, the circle shifting to pull in another brave soul. You stumble out of the crowd, breathless and laughing as you rejoin Samantha, Luke, and Jessica. Jessica giggles. @@.jessica;"Okay, okay! I didn't know you had those moves, $name!"@@ Samantha stares at you weirdly. @@.samantha;"That was insane. Since when could you even do that?"@@ Luke smacks your shoulder. @@.luke;"That was SICK. Like, actually EPIC."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Guess I had it in me."@@ Your heart still thumps, but this time it's not from nerves. It's from joy. <<elseif $d20dance2 is 1>>\ You decide to just fucking go for it. With a grin tugging at your lips, you swing your arms into position, cross your wrists, and start just galloping to goddamn Gangnam Style. @@.boy;"YOOO!"@@ someone yells. @@.boy;"Op, op, op, op!"@@ The second the crowd realizes what you're doing, the energy skyrockets. @@.girl;"GANGNAM STYLE!"@@ they chant in unison, voices bouncing off the gym walls, clapping to the beat as you trot across the center of the floor. Phones shoot up. Some people literally scream. You're dramatic about it, throwing in exaggerated sunglasses poses and finger guns. You even add some extra flair, just because you can. Jessica is off to the side losing her mind. Luke is practically doubled over laughing, slapping Samantha's shoulder and pointing. Samantha, despite herself, is cackling and cheering. People actually start joining in from the sidelines, their hands up as they stomp in time with you. It's like the whole gym has been transported back in time, into the most ridiculous dance fever dream possible. You nail the last step, spin around, and throw one last pose. The gym explodes with applause. @@.boy;"$uppercasename YOON!"@@ someone shouts. @@.girl;"LEGEND."@@ @@.boy;"BRO I'M DEAD."@@ @@.girl;"WE'RE IN SEOUL RIGHT NOW."@@ Your cheeks hurt from smiling. Your lungs burn from laughing. You stumble out of the mob, flushed and glowing with adrenaline, practically crashing into Luke who catches you. @@.luke;"Dude, you did not just do Gangnam Style,"@@ he says, still wheezing. @@.player;"I regret nothing,"@@ you pant. Samantha tosses you a water bottle and shakes her head, grinning. @@.samantha;"You're absolutely unhinged."@@ Jessica beams. @@.jessica;"I haven't seen that dance in ages. You owned it."@@ @@.player;"Sometimes, you gotta commit to the bit,"@@ you state. And commit you did. <<elseif $d20dance2 is 2>>\ You can either freeze or hit the griddy. So, naturally, you hit the griddy. The crowd erupts as soon as they realize what you're doing. @@.boy;"YO, $uppercasename BE GRIDDYING!"@@ @@.girl;"GO OFF!"@@ @@.boy;"GRIDDY REALNESS."@@ You lean into it, swinging your arms like you just scored a touchdown. There's zero hesitation in your movements, just pure confidence. It's a meme, yeah, but you're also owning the hell out of it. Someone starts beatboxing. Another kid starts playing a meme song on their phone and holds it over the heads of the crowd. Jessica is doubled over, screaming with laughter. Samantha's recording with both hands, shouting, @@.samantha;"Oh my God. Never let him live this down. I'll be pissed."@@ Luke is pumping his fists, yelling, @@.luke;"THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND!"@@ You throw in a full spin, before stopping with a finger in the air. The crowd loses it. People are crying laughing, clutching their friends, some even dropping into the griddy as well in solidarity. The moment is ridiculous and also completely perfect. Eventually, you start slowing down. Your legs are jelly from skipping around and your face hot from all the laughter. You stumble out of the center of the circle, wiping sweat from your brow. Luke catches you around the shoulders, still wheezing. @@.luke;"Bro... You just hit the griddy. I can't believe you did that."@@ @@.player;"Regret nothing,"@@ you pant. Samantha hands you a bottle of water. @@.samantha;"You'll be remembered. For better or worse, I can't say."@@ Jessica leans in, eyes sparkling with amusement. @@.jessica;"You realize this'll be posted around, right? You'll be famous."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"All part of the job."@@ This night is turning out pretty damn great. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp2 to true>>\ You follow Samantha and Luke toward the side exit, the music growing muffled behind you as the door comes to a close. The cool night air hits your skin instantly, a welcome contrast to the fluorescently-lit chaos inside. Overhead, the moon hangs full and hazy in the sky, casting long shadows across the back lot. You can still hear the latest pop hit through the walls, but it's way quieter. Samantha exhales hard and fans herself with both hands. @@.samantha;"Ugh. I needed that. I could do with some oxygen that hasn't been inside ten different people already."@@ Luke stretches with a groan, cracking his neck side to side. @@.luke;"It was like a sauna in there. But not in the good way."@@ You chuckle quietly, hands tucked into your pockets as the three of you start down the concrete, your shoes clicking softly against the pavement. That's when you spot Jordan. He's leaning against the wall just past the dumpsters, half-bathed in moonlight, his arms crossed and one foot kicked up behind him, sole pressed against the bricks. His head's tilted slightly down like he was deep in thought, but the second he hears footsteps approaching, he sharply looks up. And before any of you can say a word, Luke stops in his tracks and loudly whispers, @@.luke;"Bro, is he smoking?"@@ You blink. There's no smoke and certainly no cigarette. Jordan's eyes narrow. @@.jordan;"I am ''not'' smoking."@@ Luke raises both hands in surrender. @@.luke;"Okay okay! My bad. You just, y'know, looked very wall leany. The kind of lean where someone's definitely up to something."@@ Jordan snorts. @@.jordan;"Is it illegal to just stand here now?"@@ Samantha arches a brow, stepping a little closer. @@.samantha;"What //are// you doing out here? Brooding in the moonlight?"@@ @@.jordan;"I'm not brooding,"@@ Jordan mutters. @@.jordan;"I just needed a break."@@ Luke points at him. @@.luke;"That's exactly what someone who's brooding would say."@@ Jordan shifts slightly. @@.jordan;"What are you guys doing out here, then? Also brooding?"@@ You glance between your friends, then at Jordan. The cool air brushes part your neck, and you suddenly become very aware of how quiet it is out here, compared to the noise inside. Jordan looks more relaxed than you usually see him. The usual scowl is still faintly there, but it's softer now. How should you answer? <<button "Needed to breathe, same as you" "Day 20 - Exit 2">>\<<set $d20exit1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_exit_jordan_question" 0 "story">><</button>> <<button "You're under arrest for smoking" "Day 20 - Exit 2">>\<<set $d20exit1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_exit_jordan_question" 1 "story">><</button>> <<button "You okay, though?" "Day 20 - Exit 2">>\<<set $d20exit1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_exit_jordan_question" 2 "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20exit1 is 0>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You lean against the cool brick wall just a few steps from Jordan and glance out across the quiet parking lot. The low thump of music still pulses from inside the gym, muffled by the doors, but out here everything feels easier. @@.player;"Needed to breathe,"@@ you say casually, glancing over at Jordan. @@.player;"Same as you."@@ Jordan, still half-shadowed under the flickering light, looks over at you. For a second, you wonder if he's going to brush you off. But instead, he nods slowly. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Exactly that. It's a lot in there."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Too many people."@@ @@.jordan;"Too many eyes,"@@ Jordan mutters. @@.jordan;"Too many fake smiles. Everything trying to outdo each other for who's having the best night of their lives."@@ Luke and Samantha are chatting a few feet behind you, giving you space but still close enough to feel like a group. Samantha's digging through her phone for something, and Luke's doing a dramatic retelling of someone spilling their drink, but their voices are background noise now. Jordan leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes for a moment. The distant neon of the parking lot lights cast a dim glow across his face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. @@.jordan;"I'm not good at all that,"@@ he says after a moment, without opening his eyes. @@.jordan;"The dancing. The mingling. The whole 'Homecoming' thing."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"So why'd you come?"@@ Jordan opens one eye and gives you a faint smirk. @@.jordan;"Coach made me."@@ You let out a short laugh. @@.player;"Of course."@@ @@.jordan;"But also, I guess I didn't wanna feel like I was missing something,"@@ he adds after a beat. @@.jordan;"Everyone says senior year flies by. I figured I should at least //try// to show up."@@ You nod, understanding that more than you expected to. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ You two just stand there for a few moments, watching your breath fog faintly in the night air. It's not too cold, but the bite is enough to keep you grounded. You don't need to say anything else right now. Jordan doesn't seem to need it either. Eventually, Samantha calls out, @@.samantha;"You two good over there, or are we just waiting for the stars to align?"@@ Jordan cracks a smile and straightens up, brushing off his jacket. @@.jordan;"We're good."@@ @@.luke;"Bonding?"@@ Luke teases. @@.player;"Something like that,"@@ you say, giving Jordan a sidelong glance. He doesn't deny it. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Exit 3">><</button>> <<elseif $d20exit1 is 1>>\ <<if $jordanRelo < 30>>\ You step forward a bit, standing just ahead of Samantha and Luke, and glance at Jordan still leaning against the wall, half-shadowed in the dim light. He's watching you all now with that same guarded, vaguely irritated expression he always seems to wear when anyone gets too close. You clear your throat and try to crack a joke. @@.player;"Alright!"@@ you say, pointing a finger at him like it's a badge. @@.player;"You, Jordan Brooks, are under arrest for smoking."@@ There's a pause. Jordan stares at you flatly. No reaction. Just stone-faced, like your words didn't even register as a joke. Then he scoffs, shakes his head, and pushes off the wall. @@.jordan;"Whatever,"@@ he mutters, already brushing past Luke and Samantha. @@.jordan;"Not in the mood."@@ He doesn't look back as he puls open the side door and disappears inside the gym, the music spilling out briefly behind him before the door slam shuts again. There's silence. Then Samantha lets out a low whistle and says, @@.samantha;"Good going, $name."@@ You glance at her. @@.samantha;"Real smooth,"@@ she says, clearly unimpressed. @@.samantha;"I couldn't start laughing."@@ Luke chuckles awkwardly. @@.luke;"He did kinda look like he was smoking, though."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, but our dear best friend's joke was delivered horribly."@@ You sigh and look at the door Jordan walked through, the moment sour and heavy in the air. Whatever wall was between you two before? It's definitely still there. Maybe thicker now. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Choice">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You narrow your eyes and step forward with exaggerated purpose, pointing a finger at Jordan. @@.player;"Alright!"@@ you say. @@.player;"You, Jordan Brooks, are under arrest for smoking."@@ Jordan blinks at you, caught off guard for half a second. Then one brow arches, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. @@.jordan;"Oh yeah?"@@ he says, pushing off the wall with an easy roll of his shoulders. @@.jordan;"You got a badge to go with that attitude, Officer?"@@ You pretend to pull something from your jacket. @@.player;"Right here,"@@ you say, holding up your empty hand as if it contains a badge. @@.player;"Special unit. Crimes against air quality."@@ Jordan snorts and closes the distance by a step, hands in his pockets, clearly playing along. @@.jordan;"Damn. Must've been a sting operation. Should've known that suit was a disguise."@@ @@.player;"You got caught,"@@ you say coolly, trying not to smile. @@.jordan;"I'm innocent,"@@ he counters, leaning in just enough for it to feel like a challenge. @@.jordan;"But if you wanna frisk me for evidence, go ahead."@@ Your mouth goes dry. You laugh, a little breathlessly, trying to keep your composure. @@.player;"You're ridiculous."@@ @@.jordan;"And yet you keep coming back,"@@ Jordan shoots back. @@.player;"Yeah, well..."@@ You shrug back, just a bit slower. @@.player;"Maybe I've got a thing for trouble."@@ Jordan laughs under his breath, the kind of laugh he doesn't use when he's around people who expect him to be cold and stoic. It's the sound of him letting something slide, just for you. Before either of you can say anything else, Luke's voice cuts in like a record scratch. @@.luke;"What? Did that just? Did you just flirt with Jordan?"@@ You glance back at him, and he's standing there, utterly stunned, his mouth slightly open like he missed a chapter in a book. Samantha's next to him, blinking hard. @@.samantha;"Okay, no. I know I didn't imagine that. $name. Jordan. Flirting. Out loud. With witnesses."@@ Jordan just smirks and folds his arms again, like the whole thing was no big deal. @@.jordan;"You're late to the show."@@ Luke points at him. @@.luke;"Since when do you flirt?"@@ @@.samantha;"Since when does $name flirt?"@@ Samantha mutters, then looks at you, narrowing her eyes. @@.samantha;"Wait, are you okay? Did you hit your head or something? Did //I// hit my head? Am I dreaming all this?"@@ You hold up your hands, grinning. @@.player;"Can't a guy joke around?"@@ @@.luke;"Not like that, you can't,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"That was like, Rated R flirting. That was experienced flirting."@@ Jordan tilts his head and says, @@.jordan;"Guess I'm just good at bringing out people's hidden talents."@@ You groan and rub your face, but the smile doesn't leave your lips. Jordan's still watching you, more amused than anything else. The air is cool, yet you feel something warm buzzing under your skin. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Exit 3">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<elseif $d20exit1 is 2>>\ You glance over at Jordan and ask, @@.player;"You okay, though?"@@ Jordan doesn't look at you at first. There's a brief pause, one that's a few seconds too long, before shrugging. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I'm fine."@@ You nod, not pushing it. He's not ready and you're not about to dig. @@.player;"Cool,"@@ you reply lightly, letting it hang in the air. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Exit 3">><</button>> <</if>>\

As you and the others head back toward the gym doors, Luke suddenly gasps. @@.luke;"Oh my God. Look. Look look look!"@@ His voice is loud and urgent enough to make you freeze. Your heart skips a beat as you spin toward him, a flash of panic rising in your chest. What happened? Did someone collapse? Is there a fight? Did he see the principal? Samantha jolts. @@.samantha;"What? What is it?!"@@ Even Jordan tenses, eyebrows furrowing as he instinctively scans the parking lot for danger. But Luke, with deadly seriousness, steps back toward the brick wall, lifts both his hands, and makes a dog. A shadow dog. His fingers twist, his thumbs poking upward like ears, and the dim light casts the silhouette of a dog onto the wall. Its mouth even moves a little as he wiggles his fingers. @@.luke;"Woof,"@@ he says proudly, giving his hand-dog a little bark. @@.luke;"Woof."@@ There's a long pause. Samantha blinks before bursting out laughing. @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ she wheezes, @@.samantha;"you scared me half to death for a fucking shadow puppet?"@@ Luke grins. @@.luke;"Not just //any// shadow puppet. Doggo. Look at him. Majestic. Loyal. A true friend."@@ @@.samantha;"Okay, okay, move over,"@@ she says, elbowing him playfully aside. @@.samantha;"Let me show you how it's really done."@@ With a flick of her wrist, she arranges her fingers with ease and produces a sleek, elegant cat. Its pointed ears and curved tail are instantly recognizable, and as she wiggles her pinky, it almost seems to swish. @@.samantha;"Meow,"@@ Samantha says dramatically. Luke gasps. @@.luke;"Traitor! I can't believe you've sided with the feline menace."@@ You can't help but laugh as the two of them bicker, their shadows on the wall coming alive. Even Jordan chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he crosses his arms. But now all eyes turn to you. @@.samantha;"Well?"@@ Samantha asks, grinning. @@.samantha;"You're up."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ Luke adds, eyes gleaming with anticipation. @@.luke;"What's your spirit shadow, $name?"@@ You glance at the wall, then down at your hands. The light is perfect, the shadows crisp. It's your time to shine. <<button "Make another dog" "Day 20 - Exit 4">>\<<set $d20exit2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_exit_animal" "dog" "story">><</button>> <<button "Make another cat" "Day 20 - Exit 4">>\<<set $d20exit2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_exit_animal" "cat" "story">><</button>> <<button "Make a bunny" "Day 20 - Exit 4">>\<<set $d20exit2 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_exit_animal" "bunny" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20exit2 is 0>>\ You crack your knuckles with drama, step up to the wall beside Luke, and say, @@.luke;"I think I'm gonna have to back up my boy here."@@ Luke gasps as if you just pledged your sword to his kingdom. @@.luke;"Bro."@@ You lift your hands into position and fiddle a little, adjusting for the lighting. It takes a few tries, but eventually, you get it. A proud stubby-eared pup with a big floppy shadow mouth. You give it a playful growl, bobbing your hands so it "pants." @@.player;"Woof,"@@ you say with a grin. Samantha reels back like you've just slapped her. @@.samantha;"Et tu, $name?"@@ You look over at her, laughing. @@.player;"Sorry. Dogs have my heart."@@ She folds her arms, clearly pretending to be offended. @@.samantha;"This is a betrayal of the highest order. I invited you into my life, and this is how you repay me? With drooling dogs?"@@ Luke throws his arm around your shoulder like you've just been knighted. @@.luke;"That's right. We bark together now. Dog bros for life."@@ Jordan, still leaning against the wall nearby, lets out a snort and mutters, @@.jordan;"You two are such idiots."@@ Samantha dramatically turns her back. @@.samantha;"Fine. Go play fetch or something."@@ But you catch her smiling all the same. Even in betrayal, she's amused. <<elseif $d20exit2 is 1>>\ You roll your shoulders and smile as you walk toward the wall. @@.player;"I dunno, Luke. Samantha's cat is pretty elegant."@@ Luke's eyes widen. @@.luke;"Wait. No. You wouldn't."@@ @@.player;"Oh, I would."@@ With a practiced flick of your wrists, you fold your hands into the feline silhouette. It takes a second of adjustment, but when you wiggle your finger, your shadow-cat even looks like it's swishing its tail. @@.player;"Meow,"@@ you say smugly. Luke stares at you in slow betrayal. @@.luke;"Bro."@@ Samantha howls with laughter. @@.samantha;"Yes! Yes! He's one of us now."@@ Luke staggers back, a hand to his chest like he's been physically wounded. @@.luke;"I can't believe this. I thought you were a dog fan, $name. I was gonna bring you a hot dog."@@ @@.samantha;"You what?"@@ Samantha looks between you two. @@.samantha;"Why weren't you gonna bring me a hot dog?"@@ @@.luke;"Because you're a traitor,"@@ Luke says, pointing at your twin cats. @@.luke;"Both of you."@@ You shrug innocently. @@.player;"I like cats."@@ @@.luke;"I thought I knew you,"@@ Luke says, clearly devastated. Jordan mutters under his breath, @@.jordan;"You guys are //so// weird."@@ @@.luke;"You're weird,"@@ Luke shoots back, pointing dramatically. Jordan can't help but smile. <<elseif $d20exit2 is 2>>\ You raise your hands and squint at the wall thoughtfully. @@.player;"You know what? I'm going rogue."@@ Both Samantha and Luke look at you. @@.luke;"Rogue?"@@ Luke repeats. @@.player;"Yeah. I present to you... the noble rabbit."@@ You twist your hands into place, struggling a little at first. Bunny ears really are harder than they look. After a few failed attempts that look vaguely like a crab having a breakdown, you finally manage it. Two upright ears, a soft curve of a face. You hop the shadow along the wall. Samantha blinks. @@.samantha;"Wait... is that a bunny?"@@ Luke stares. @@.luke;"That's actually kind of adorable."@@ @@.player;"It's a compromise,"@@ you say proudly. @@.player;"Not a dog. Not a cat. Peace through long ears."@@ Samantha laughs. @@.samantha;"You're Switzerland."@@ @@.luke;"I love their cheese,"@@ Luke adds, squinting at your hopping shadow. @@.luke;"Damn, it actually looks like it's moving."@@ You bounce it again for effect. @@.player;"Boing."@@ Jordan groans. @@.jordan;"You people are children."@@ Samantha grins. @@.samantha;"And you love it."@@ @@.jordan;"I tolerate it."@@ But even Jordan's got a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. <</if>>\ You all stand there in the night air, casting silly animals against the gym wall, laughing and teasing and poking fun. Just for a moment, just for a minute, it feels like nothing else exists. No pressure. No expectations. Just friends and shadows. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Choice">><</button>>

<<set $lilyRelo to Math.clamp($lilyRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You push open Lily's bedroom door with the same caution someone might use when approaching a wild animal, except the wild animal in question is fourteen years old and is scrolling dramatically through her phone. She doesn't look up. @@.lily;"I'm still mad at you,"@@ she mutters flatly, voice muffled into her pillow. You lean against your doorframe, arms crossed. @@.player;"What, no warm welcome? Not even a 'Hey, $name, how was your magical high school night of awkward slow dancing and questionable snacks'?"@@ Nothing. @@.lily;"I was banished,"@@ she says louder, still not looking at you. @@.lily;"It's like //Frozen//, except I don't even get a kingdom. Just this lame ass room and a mom who told me to give you space."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"So you're saying you're Elsa?"@@ @@.lily;"I'm saying you're rude."@@ You can't help but smirk. @@.player;"Fair."@@ You let a pause hang, then say casually, @@.player;"Well... I guess I'll just tell Mom about all the cool stuff and slow dance. Shame you don't wanna hear about that."@@ Lily bolts upright. @@.lily;"What?!"@@ You blink innocently. @@.player;"Hmm?"@@ She scrambles off the bed and throws her phone aside. @@.lily;"No no no, you don't get to just say that and walk away."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Guess you'll never know. You're mad, remember?"@@ She marches over and punches you in the arm. @@.lily;"You're evil."@@ You ruffle her hair, which she immediately ducks from with a shriek. @@.lily;"I swear, if you mess up my blue streak again, I'll steal your earbuds and sync them to my phone permanently."@@ @@.player;"Diabolical."@@ @@.lily;"You're stalling. What happened? You have to tell me. Did you kiss someone?"@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Calm down. I didn't go that far."@@ @@.lily;"You're lucky I'm so nice,"@@ she says narrowing her eyes. You flop onto her bed and pat the spot beside you. @@.player;"Then sit and learn."@@ She does reluctantly. @@.lily;"So?"@@ she demands. @@.lily;"Details."@@ You stretch your legs out. @@.player;"Well, there was dancing and lights and someone who definitely should not have been breakdancing in skinny jeans—"@@ @@.lily;"Wait, who?"@@ @@.player;"I'm getting there. Patience, young one."@@ She groans. @@.lily;"I //hate// patience. Tell me everything. Like, everything everything."@@ Despite her big attitude, she's your favorite audience and always has been. <<button "Wait, why does she care so much?" "Day 20 - Lily 2">><</button>>

@@.player;"Okay, but... why do you care so much?"@@ She gasps. Her head snaps toward you and her eyes are wide with betrayal. @@.lily;"Why do I care so much?!"@@ You blink. @@.player;"...Yeah?"@@ @@.lily;"You think I don't get to care?"@@ she says, voice rising. @@.lily;"Me? Your only sister? The one who's been with you for years?"@@ You open your mouth, but she steamrolls over you, already fired up. @@.lily;"The one who let you use //my// secret face mist before your dumb school pictures because your forehead was shiny and you were panicking? The one who literally had to sit in your room for two whole hours a few years ago while you changed outfits before that high school entry thing?"@@ @@.player;"That's not even related to Homecoming."@@ @@.lily;"Oh my God,"@@ she mutters, throwing her hands up. @@.lily;"You're impossible."@@ You try to hold back a laugh, but it slips anyway. @@.player;"So dramatic."@@ Lily narrows her eyes. @@.lily;"If I'm dramatic, it's because I was raised in chaos. Your chaos."@@ @@.player;"Okay, fair."@@ @@.lily;"I care because no one else is giving me any actual romance in this house,"@@ she huffs, crossing her arms. @@.lily;"Mom and Dad haven't been on a date since forever, and there aren't any decent guys at my school. Your love life is the only entertainment I get."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Wow. So I'm, like, //Neatflix// to you?"@@ @@.lily;"You //wish// you were Neatflix,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"You're, like, one of the shitty shows they make then cancel after one season. Nothing makes sense, but I'm still emotionally invested."@@ You laugh so hard you nearly fall off the bed. Lily smirks, victorious. @@.lily;"There it is. That's what I'm here for. Big Sister of the Year."@@ You wipe your eyes. @@.player;"You're four years younger than me."@@ @@.lily;"Technically I am,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"But I'm decades ahead emotionally."@@ @@.player;"You're fourteen."@@ @@.lily;"And wise beyond my years."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"You're a menace."@@ @@.lily;"I'm //your// menace,"@@ she corrects. @@.lily;"Now shut up and give me the deets."@@ You smile at her, the warmth rising in your chest. It's easy to forget how much you've leaned on her through the years. Sometimes she makes it hard to take her seriously, sure, but she's always there. You look down at her. @@.player;"Thanks, Lily."@@ She blinks. @@.lily;"For what?"@@ @@.player;"For... caring so much."@@ Lily shrugs like it's nothing. @@.lily;"Yeah, well. Somebody has to."@@ <<button "Go to bed" "Day 20 - 18">><</button>>

<<set $temp1 to true>>\ The three of you drift through the crowded gym, weaving between clusters of students and flashes of camera phones, until Samantha tugs your sleeve and points toward the far corner. A small stage has been set up, draped in cheap black curtains and twinkling Christmas lights. A magician in a red blazer and bow tie is shuffling an oversized deck of cards. You all squeeze into the little semicircle of chairs that's formed, catching the last part of a trick where he pulls a bouquet of flowers from a small top hat. The crowd claps politely, a few people groaning when he bows too theatrically. And there, sitting off to the side, is Aurora. She's leaning forward slightly, her chin resting on her hand, eyes locked on the stage. When the magician flicks his wrist and makes a silk scarf vanish up his sleeve, she actually claps. Not a mocking one, either. A real one. She even smiles when he pulls the scarf out of a random guy's backpack like it had been hidden there all along. You blink. You're not the only one. @@.samantha;"Uh,"@@ Samantha mutters, crossing her arms. @@.samantha;"Is this... the actual Aurora?"@@ Luke scratches his head, staring. @@.luke;"I thought she only liked, like, chanting in Latin and glaring at people."@@ @@.player;"Shh,"@@ you say, still a little surprised yourself. @@.player;"She's enjoying it."@@ The magician launches into another trick, this time making a girl's hair tie disappear and reappear around his own wrist. Aurora laughs. It sounds so startlingly normal that you, Samantha, and Luke all exchange looks again. When the trick ends and the magician takes a sip of water, you lean toward her. @@.player;"Don't you know //actual// magic?"@@ Aurora glances at you, and for a moment you expect her usual cryptic half-smile, the vague lines she always feeds people. But instead, she just shrugs, still smiling faintly. @@.aurora;"Yeah. But this is still fun. Not everything has to be serious."@@ Luke gawks. @@.luke;"No way. Aurora, are you saying you're... like.. a regular person?"@@ Aurora rolls her eyes, but it's playful this time. @@.aurora;"Don't push your luck."@@ Samantha snickers. @@.samantha;"Wow. First time she hasn't tried to spook us with her 'veil of shadows' or whatever."@@ Aurora doesn't answer, but she doesn't need to. Her smile lingers as the magician begins another trick, this time juggling three rubber chickens. You sit back, watching how, for once, she seems less like the cryptic girl with secrets and more like someone your age. Just a teenager at a school event, enjoying a cheap magic show with everyone else. <<button "Tease her" "Day 20 - Magic 2">>\<<set $d20magic1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Join her" "Day 20 - Magic 2">>\<<set $d20magic1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Probe gently" "Day 20 - Magic 2">>\<<set $d20magic1 to 2>>\<</button>>

<<if $d20magic1 is 0>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You lean toward Aurora, a grin tugging at your mouth as the magician makes three cards disappear in a blur. @@.player;"Careful, Aurora. If people see you having fun, your whole mysterious reputation might collapse."@@ At first, you expect a sharp comeback, maybe one of her cryptic lines about veils or shadows. Instead, Aurora's hands freeze mid-clap. She lets them fall into her lap, the corners of her smile slipping away. Her gaze stays fixed on the stage, but it's like a light dimmed in her eyes. Samantha whispers under her breath, @@.samantha;"Nice going, $name. Really killing the vibe."@@ Aurora doesn't lash out or snap. She just leans back in her chair, folding her arms loosely. The magician pulls a coin from a freshman's ear and half the crowd laughs, but she doesn't. Not anymore. Luke notices too, his grin faltering. @@.luke;"Uh, hey,"@@ he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. @@.luke;"It was just a joke, right?"@@ Aurora finally glances your way. There's not anger in her eyes, just a muted kind of disappointment. @@.aurora;"I just wanted to enjoy the show,"@@ she says softly. Then she looks back at the stage, her voice fading. @@.aurora;"Guess that was too much to ask for."@@ She doesn't speak again. The magician does a crazy trick, but Aurora doesn't laugh or clap like before. Her small, genuine smile from earlier has slipped back behind a wall. Samantha sighs, shifting uncomfortably beside you. Luke chews his lip, eyes darting between you and Aurora. And you? You're left with the weight of a moment that could've been fun if you just said something else. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Choice">><</button>> <<elseif $d20magic1 is 1>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You decide not to ask anything. Not tonight. Instead, you lean back in your chair, fold your arms, and just... watch the show with her. The magician is pulling out his "grand finale," which apparently involves three different-colored handkerchiefs and a wand that keeps collapsing on itself. When he tries to snap the wand straight, only for it to flop back down, the crowd groans. You, on the other hand, can't help but laugh. To your surprise, Aurora laughs too. A small, unguarded sound that bursts out of her before she can catch it. She covers her mouth a second later, but the damage is done. You grin at her. @@.player;"You're really enjoying this."@@ @@.aurora;"Shut up,"@@ she says quickly, but there's no bite to it. When the magician yanks the handkerchiefs through his hand, "transforming" them into a string of plastic flowers, the crowd gives a half-hearted cheer. But Aurora claps enthusiastically, and so you clap too, hamming it up until even Luke notices and groans. @@.luke;"Are you two seriously impressed right now?"@@ Luke asks, leaning over from the next seat. @@.aurora;"Shh,"@@ Aurora says, her smile widening just a little. @@.aurora;"It's called appreciating performance."@@ @@.samantha;"Performance?"@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"It's literally a fake flower chain."@@ You nudge Aurora, whispering conspiratorially. @@.player;"It //is// kind of impressive, right?"@@ Aurora leans toward you, grinning. @@.aurora;"Watching someone sell it is the fun part."@@ The magician wraps up with a card trick that doesn't quite land. He reveals the wrong card, tries to cover it up with a joke, then somehow fixes it at the last second. The whole thing's clumsy, but the audience cheers anyway. You and Aurora both laugh, and this time, neither of you bother hiding it. It's strange how she doesn't look like the untouchable girl with far too many secrets. She looks like a classmate that you could just... hang out with. When the magician takes his bow and the lights dim, Aurora exhales like she's coming down from a high. She leans back in her chair, looking satisfied in a way you've never seen before. @@.aurora;"That was actually pretty great,"@@ she says quietly. You smile. @@.player;"Yeah. It kinda was."@@ And for a moment, you both just sit there, grinning like idiots, two teens laughing at a lame magic show in the middle of Homecoming night. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Magic 3">><</button>> <<elseif $d20magic1 is 2>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You lean a little closer to Aurora, your voice quiet so it doesn't cut across the magician's chatter. @@.player;"You ever... miss just being normal like this? You know, sitting around, watching a cheesy magic show?"@@ Aurora doesn't look at you right away. Her gaze stays on the stage where the magician is pretending to pull a coin from behind someone's ear, but her smile softens, almost wistful. Finally, she tilts her head toward you, her dark hair brushing against her cheek. @@.aurora;"You'll know more tomorrow,"@@ she says, quiet but certain. @@.player;"Tomorrow?"@@ you ask, frowning a little. @@.player;"C'mon, I wanna know today."@@ That gets her to turn fully, her eyes meeting yours. For once they aren't glowing with that usual intensity she puts on when she's in her "mysterious witch" mode. They're just... tired, but kind. She exhales a long sigh, the kind that sounds like she's been holding it in for a while. @@.aurora;"I'm off duty today,"@@ she says simply. @@.player;"Off duty?"@@ you echo, raising a brow. Aurora lets her shoulders fall back against the chair, crossing her arms loosely. @@.aurora;"Take it up with the higher-ups tomorrow. Tonight's Homecoming. I wanted to... just enjoy something stupid. It's the closest thing to a normal high school night I'll probably ever get."@@ Her words linger in the air, cutting sharper than she might've meant. Samantha glances over, eyebrows raised, but doesn't chime in. Luke, on the other hand, is too busy laughing at the magician's attempt to balance a playing card on his nose. You study Aurora for a moment. She looks less scary like this, sitting in a hard plastic chair, the shimmer of stage lights washing her face in colors that make her look more human. For once, there's no shadows clinging to her like fog. Just a girl who wanted to sit down and laugh at bad jokes and sleight of hand. The magician takes a bow the crowd bursts into applause. Aurora claps with them softly. @@.aurora;"I'll answer your questions tomorrow,"@@ she repeats, not looking at you this time. @@.aurora;"But tonight... let me have this."@@ You don't push it further. The show goes on, and for once, you just sit there beside her. She's letting herself be a teenager. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Magic 3">><</button>> <</if>>\

Aurora's still smiling when you glance at her again. Something about the way her shoulders have relaxed, the usual stillness drained from her posture, makes her feel more //here// than you've ever seen. Present. Not hovering a few inches off reality like she usually does. You nudge her with your elbow. @@.player;"So..."@@ you begin, keeping your tone light and conspiratorial. @@.player;"You ever think about, like... juicing up one of his tricks? Just a little?"@@ She arches a brow. @@.aurora;"Juicing up?"@@ @@.player;"You know. Magic. Real magic,"@@ you murmur, glancing around to make sure no one's eavesdropping. @@.player;"Just once. Just to mess with him. Make one of his lame tricks go totally off the rails."@@ Aurora blinks at you, that usual unreadable expression flickering into place. @@.aurora;"I shouldn't,"@@ she says softly. @@.aurora;"You know that."@@ @@.player;"But it would be fun,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"C'mon. Imagine the guy pulls a rabbit from a hat and it actually glows. Or he throws a card and it just keeps floating in the air. People would lose their minds."@@ @@.aurora;"Exactly,"@@ she says dryly. @@.aurora;"That's kind of the problem."@@ You lean in, voice playful. @@.player;"One little spell wouldn't hurt, right?"@@ She narrows her eyes at you, mock-suspicious. @@.aurora;"You're trying to be a bad influence."@@ @@.player;"I prefer the term agent of chaos."@@ Aurora exhales through her nose, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. She looks back at the now-reset stage, where the magician is re-entering for his second round. His "Final Grand Finale." Aurora tilts her head. @@.aurora;"Okay. Fine. Maybe. But if I were to, hypothetically, enhance one of his tricks... what would you suggest?"@@ You lean forward, you grin spreading. <<button "Do the glowing rabbit" "Day 20 - Magic 4">>\<<set $d20magic2 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_magic_trick" "rabbit" "story">><</button>> <<button "Do the floating cards" "Day 20 - Magic 4">>\<<set $d20magic2 to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_magic_trick" "cards" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20magic2 is true>>\ The magician, now fully in his groove, holds his hands out wide with overdone flourish. His voice booms over the cheap mic: @@.boy;"And now, for a classic of the craft... the pulling of the rabbit from the hat!"@@ You glance over at Aurora, who sits calmly beside you with her arms loosely crossed. But there's a glint of mischief in her eyes like a spark waiting to catch. You nudge her. @@.player;"Now's your chance. Make the rabbit glow."@@ She exhales dramatically, though you can tell she's smiling. @@.aurora;"You're going to get me in trouble one day, $name Yoon."@@ @@.player;"I //am// trouble,"@@ you whisper back, and she rolls her eyes. The magician begins his routine. he taps the black top hat with his wands a few times, muttering some corny incantation. @@.boy;"Hocus pocus! Homecomingus rabbitus!"@@ he says before reaching his hand inside with a showman's flair. You feel it before you see it: a shimmer in the air, the faintest ripple of something unseen brushing past your skin like a soft breeze. Aurora's fingers twitch slightly at her side. The magician yanks the rabbit out and the entire crowd gasps. The rabbit fucking glows. Not like stage light glowing. Not like a spotlight or some glitter sprayed on its fur. This bunny is radiant. It's snow-white fur glows like it's been lit by the moonlight, pulsing gently with an ethereal purple hue. Its little eyes shimmer like stars, and its whiskers sparkle with faint trails of dust that dissolve mid-air. It looks like it stepped out of a dream. Everyone stares. Samantha clutches at your sleeve, her eyes wide. @@.samantha;"Was that... did he do that?!"@@ Luke's jaw drops. @@.luke;"DUDE. DUDE. THAT RABBIT'S GLOWING."@@ Aurora stays still as a statue, face behind her hands, face neutral. Or at least, it would be neutral if it wasn't for the tiny smile pulling at the corner of her lips. The magician, meanwhile, looks like he's going to pass out. He stares down at the rabbit in his hands with a confused expression. @@.boy;"...T-Thank you, thank you,"@@ he stammers into the mic, voice a little shaky. @@.boy;"Uh, this, uh, special effect brought to you by... top-tier magic supplies and... professional technique! "@@ The crowd bursts into applause. There's a whoop from the back. Phones are out, flashes popping. Aurora turns to you, her eyes gleaming. @@.aurora;"You owe me,"@@ she says quietly. You're already doubled over, trying not to laugh loud enough to draw attention. @@.player;"That was amazing."@@ The two of you dissolve into giggles. You try to keep it together but fail entirely, especially when Luke keeps going: @@.luke;"Bro, I didn't even know rabbits could glow! Is that a thing now? Can I get one?"@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"He probably did something with the fur."@@ You glance over at Aurora, who's still chuckling. There's a flush of pink in her cheeks, but it's from laughter. You both catch your breath as the magician fumbles into his next trick, clearly rattled but going along with it like a champ. And just like that, the night sparkles a little brighter. <<elseif $d20magic2 is false>>\ The magician steps toward center stage again, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves with theatrical flair. @@.boy;"Ladies and gentlemen,"@@ he calls, @@.boy;"for my next feat, I'll require the sharpest eyes in the audience! Keep them on the cards, don't blink!"@@ You glance sideways at Aurora, who stands with her arms folded loosely and an unreadable look on her face. There's a faintest flicker of a grin tugging at her lips, like she's waiting for your cue. You lean in and murmur, @@.player;"Okay, you've gotta make the cards float."@@ Aurora's lips twitch. @@.aurora;"Risky. I like it."@@ Luke, oblivious to the plan but clearly hyped, whispers, @@.luke;"Ooh, card tricks. Bet I can figure out how he does it."@@ @@.samantha;"Sure you can,"@@ Samantha mutters dryly. The magician begins shuffling a standard deck, the cards snapping crisply as he fans them out. @@.boy;"This is a trick of concentration,"@@ he intones. @@.boy;"A feat of dexterity and the illusion of flight."@@ You feel it again, a subtle ripple in the air. Aurora's fingers twitch at her side. And then a card rises. It floats. Not like it's being held up by a wire or a gust of wind, but as if it's being lifted by an invisible hand. It spins gently in the air, then another rises. Then another. Soon, five or six cards are hovering, swirling around the magician's head in a lazy orbit. The gym falls silent. Then the cards begin to fucking dance. They dip and weave like they've come to life, fluttering in a perfect rhythm, spiraling upward, then cascading down like a waterfall. One card even flicks forward like it's teasing the crowd before zipping back into place. A girl near the front squeals. Phones come up all around. The murmurs of confusion and awe rise into a chorus. Samantha's mouth is hanging open. @@.samantha;"Okay. Okay. How the hell is he doing that?"@@ Luke's eyes are tracking the spinning deck. @@.luke;"BRO. THEY'RE FLYING. HE'S GOT, LIKE, JEDI POWERS."@@ The magician looks shocked. His mouth moves like he's trying to say something, but then he catches himself and quickly throws his arms wide. @@.boy;"Behold!"@@ he shouts with as much confidence as he can muster. @@.boy;"The... enchanted deck! Uhh, it's a rarely seen effect, developed after years of practice!"@@ One of the cards floats down to tap him lightly on the head. He yelps. The audience loses it. Aurora turns to you and whispers, @@.aurora;"I might have added a little extra. Couldn't resist."@@ You're laughing too hard to respond. When the cards slowly settle back into the magician's hands, the applause is thunderous. The magician bows, still looking dazed, and the crowd chants. Aurora just folds her arms again, a smug little grin on her face, and you wonder if this is the most alive she's felt at school in a long, long time. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Choice">><</button>>

<<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You follow the gentle sound of a kettle clicking to a boil. The kitchen light is low, warm, honey-gold against the dim hush of the house. Your mom stands by the counter, placing two mismatched mugs down like she's done it a thousand times. She glances over her shoulder and smiles when she sees you. @@.girl;"Hey, sweetheart,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"I figured you'd end up wandering over."@@ You nod, and she gestures for you to sit. @@.girl;"Come on. Tea's almost ready."@@ You sink onto a stool, exhaling slowly. The kitchen smells like chamomile and lemon, and the moment you stop moving, the tiredness creeps in all at once. Your feet ache a little, your jacket feels too warm, and your thoughts still haven't caught up to the night you just had. The kettle finishes with a soft click. She pours water into the mugs, drops a teabag into each, and stirs slowly. There's no rush. When she finally sits beside you, she slides one mug in your direction. It's the chipped one with the sunflowers on it. You always get that one. You wrap your hands around the ceramic. @@.girl;"Big night,"@@ she says gently, not prying. @@.girl;"How are you feeling?"@@ You shrug. She hums softly, understanding that you're figuring it out. @@.girl;"You looked... comfortable,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Maybe not at first. But later, when you came in through the door, there was something different in your face."@@ You blink at her, startled. @@.player;"Really?"@@ @@.girl;"Yeah. I could see it in how you were holding yourself. Like you were standing a little taller and really being you."@@ You look down at the swirl of tea in your mug. You're not ready to name everything you're feeling, but the fact that she noticed means more than you expected. @@.girl;"I'm not going to push you,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Whatever you're feeling, wherever you're heading, there's time."@@ Your throat tightens a little. She leans in and taps the side of your mug. @@.girl;"But if there's something you //do// want to say tonight, just a little... I'm listening."@@ <<button "I felt comfortable despite the suit" "Day 20 - Mom 2">>\<<set $d20momq to true>>\<<trackChoice "D20_end_mom_suit_question" "I felt comfortable despite the suit" "story">><</button>> <<button "I felt comfortable because of the suit" "Day 20 - Mom 2">>\<<set $d20momq to false>>\<<trackChoice "D20_end_mom_suit_question" "I felt comfortable because of the suit" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20momq is true>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ The tea is just the right temperature now. It's hot enough to be comforting, but not enough to scald. You hold the cup in both hands, watching the steam curl toward the ceiling in lazy tendrils. Your mom doesn't push. She just waits. You breathe in slowly. @@.player;"I felt comfortable,"@@ you begin, then pause. @@.player;"But it was despite the suit."@@ Your voice is soft, but steady. There's no turning back once it's said, but you don't want to. You glance toward her, just for a second, then look back into your tea. She doesn't say anything yet, and somehow that makes it easier to keep going. @@.player;"It looked good, I guess. People said I did. But wearing it didn't feel... like me. Not really. Not underneath everything."@@ You shake your head a little, the words finally tumbling out. @@.player;"It felt like I was playing a part. The more I tried to own it, the more it reminded me of what it wasn't."@@ Your mom sets her cup down quietly and gives you her undivided attention. @@.player;"I still had fun,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I wasn't pretending. It just felt like I was borrowing someone else's body. But even with all that, I was still comfortable. I still danced and smiled because of the people around me."@@ You exhale, the weight of it leaving your shoulders. Then you add, @@.player;"That probably doesn't make sense."@@ @@.girl;"It makes perfect sense,"@@ she says instantly. You look up. @@.girl;"It makes more sense than you know."@@ She reaches across the counter, taking your hand in both of hers. Her thumbs rub in small, comforting circles across your knuckles. @@.girl;"You're growing into yourself,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"And that doesn't always happen in a straight line. You don't have to have every piece figured out tonight. Or tomorrow. Or this year. But the fact that you can say this out loud matters. And I'm so, so proud of you."@@ Your eyes sting. You don't cry, but it is close. @@.girl;"Whether you end up in dresses or suits or glitter capes or pajamas for the rest of your life, I'll still be your mom. And you'll still be my child."@@ You squeeze your hand. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ @@.girl;"You never have to thank me for loving you."@@ She lets go of your hand, only to stand up and wrap her arms around your shoulders. You lean into it, letting her warmth soak in. @@.girl;"I'm always here,"@@ she says quietly. @@.girl;"Whatever you need, whoever you are."@@ You nod. @@.player;"I know."@@ After a long pause, she pulls away, brushing a piece of your hair behind you ear like she used to when you were little. @@.girl;"Now, go get some sleep,"@@ she says, her voice light again. @@.girl;"You've had a long and beautiful night."@@ As you head up the stairs, your steps feel lighter. You didn't expect tonight to feel like this, but it did. <<else>>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You wrap your hands tighter around the sunflower mug, letting the warmth sink into your fingers. The silence stretches, not uncomfortable, just waiting. Your mom's watching you gently, but not pressing. You exhale. @@.player;"I felt comfortable because of that suit,"@@ you say. It's a fact. You've been thinking about it all night and just needed to say it. You don't meet her eyes at first, but you can feel her listening. You press on. @@.player;"I think I just liked wearing something that felt sharp and masculine. It felt clean and solid, like I could breathe in it."@@ You glance at her. She's not surprised or disappointed. She's just there for you. @@.player;"Everyone kept saying I looked good,"@@ you add. @@.player;"And I didn't feel fake. Like, I wasn't trying to impress anyone, I just wanted to look... normal."@@ Your voice drops a little at that word. Normal. You're not sure what it's supposed to mean, just that you've been chasing it. Your mom sips her tea, deep in thought. When she finally speaks, her voice is calm, warm, and steady. @@.girl;"Well, you did look good,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Very handsome, if you want my very unbiased opinion."@@ That gets a chuckle out of you. @@.girl;"But more than that, you looked like yourself,"@@ she continues. @@.girl;"And if that's in a suit and boots, then that's what it is. There's no rulebook. You don't have to explain it to anyone."@@ You nod slowly, appreciating that more than you can say. She sets her mug down and reaches across the counter, gently tapping your hand. @@.girl;"You're figuring yourself out. That's not always a straight line. And it doesn't have to be dramatic or loud. Sometimes it's just... wearing the thing that makes you breathe easier. That's enough."@@ Your throat tightens a little. Not because you're sad, but because there's something about being seen like that that always catches you off guard. She smiles. @@.girl;"Just promise me one thing."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.girl;"Whatever shape your comfort takes, I want you to wear it proudly. I don't care if it's a suit, a dress, or a neon clown wig. I'll always be in your corner."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"I won't be wearing a clown wig, don't worry."@@ @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ she says, pretending to be relieved. @@.girl;"Glad to see we have some standards."@@ The tea's gone lukewarm by now, but neither of you seem to care. Eventually, she stands and ruffles your hair in that way only moms can get away with. @@.girl;"Alright. Off to bed, Mr. Comfortable Suit."@@ You groan, pushing her hand away gently, but there's a smile tugging at your lips now. @@.girl;"Goodnight, sweetheart."@@ @@.player;"Night, Mom."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Go to bed" "Day 20 - 18">><</button>>

<<set $temp to true>>\ The three of you make your way across the gym, your eyes drawn to the far wall. Tucked between the bleachers and the entrance to one of the hallways is a tall white canvas, stretching wide, its surface already peppered with bright color. ''The 2024 Homecoming Mural.'' You'd heard about it from other people. It's some student council initiative about "leaving your mark." They'd rolled out a giant piece of painter's tarp, pinned it to the wall, and invited students to add whatever they wanted. Some people had already scrawled names, doodles and short quotes. A few had left actual paintings, ranging from goofy to surprisingly good. It's messy, colorful, and chaotic, kind of like high school itself. And right now, standing in front of it, marker in hand, is Vincent. He's crouched low at the corner of the mural, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a handful of markers fanned out beside him like a painter's palette. His shirt is already smudged with purple and green near the hem, but he doesn't seem to care. The cap of one marker is between his teeth as he works intently on some lines. You step closer, trying to see what he's drawing. At first, it's just a jumble of lines, but then you realize it's a historical scene. Soldiers on horseback, banners fluttering, the start of a palace in the background, and a crowd carefully rendered in strokes of red and blue. You don't know the exact event he's depicting, but you know it means something to him. There's far too much love in the details. Luke is the first to say something. @@.luke;"Yo! That's Vincent, right?"@@ Vincent startles at the sound of his name, flinching hard enough to drop the marker. He scrambles to pick it up and looks up like a deer in headlights. @@.vincent;"Woah, uh, hey,"@@ he says, eyes darting between the three of you. @@.vincent;"Didn't see you there."@@ Samantha squints at the drawing, hands on her hips. @@.samantha;"Okay, nerd. I didn't know you had art skills."@@ @@.vincent;"It's the Tuileries Palace,"@@ Vincent says, adjusting his glasses. @@.vincent;"From 1792. During the French Revolution."@@ There's a pause. Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Oh. Cool."@@ Samantha leans closer, brows lifting slightly. @@.samantha;"Wait. This is actually good. Like, really good."@@ Vincent flushes, ducking his head. @@.vincent;"Thanks. I, um, thought if people were gonna draw memories or something, I could do a moment in history. Kind of... mix it in there."@@ @@.player;"And you picked a revolution,"@@ you murmur, amused. @@.vincent;"It was chaotic and loud,"@@ Vincent replies. @@.vincent;"Seemed appropriate."@@ Luke drops into a squat beside him, tilting his head. @@.luke;"So, you're really into, like, history."@@ Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"Yeah. I didn't do much during high school, not really. Most people here probably don't even know I exist. So I thought maybe I could leave something behind. I mean, not like anyone's gonna remember me for football or parties. But maybe someone'll see this later and think, 'huh, not bad.' That's enough for me."@@ There's something honest in the way he says it. You glance at Samantha, who nudges you lightly with her elbow. @@.samantha;"Go on, draw something."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You're not gonna draw something?"@@ @@.samantha;"I've already contributed,"@@ she says, pointing to a very poorly drawn bag of hot chips with the word ''YUMMY'' scrawled next to it. @@.samantha;"A piece of culture, if you will."@@ Luke snorts. @@.luke;"I drew a hot dog."@@ Vincent looks mildly offended. @@.vincent;"Is that what's near the soldiers in my drawing?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah. Your soldiers are probably hungry. I'm helping."@@ You laugh. Then Vincent holds out a marker to you. It's purple, with the cap already off. His fingers are smudged with green and blue. @@.vincent;"There's space right here,"@@ he says, gesturing to a small section below his drawing. @@.vincent;"You should draw something too. If you want."@@ You take the marker slowly, the smell of ink sharp in your nose. <<button "A mirror" "Day 20 - Mural 2">>\<<set $d20muraldrawing to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D20_mural_drawing" "mirror" "story">><</button>> <<button "A phoenix" "Day 20 - Mural 2">>\<<set $d20muraldrawing to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D20_mural_drawing" "phoenix" "story">><</button>> <<button "Your friends" "Day 20 - Mural 2">>\<<set $d20muraldrawing to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D20_mural_drawing" "friends" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d20muraldrawing is 0>>\ You press the tip of the purple marker against the paper. For a second, you're not sure what you're doing. The blank space feels bigger the closer you stare it. but then your hand starts moving. A curved frame. A line down the middle. Shading along the edges until it takes shape. A mirror. Oval-shaped, with a crack running jaggedly through the glass. You step back slightly, capping the marker and looking at it. It's not perfect, the lines wobble and the shading bleeds, but it feels right. A mirror, reflecting nothing. Or hell, maybe everything. Luke tilts his head. @@.luke;"What's that supposed to be?"@@ @@.player;"It's a mirror,"@@ you explain. @@.player;"I don't know. I guess... people see what they want to see."@@ Samantha leans closer, her lips quirking. @@.samantha;"Wow. Deep, Yoon. Didn't know you had it in you."@@ Vincent's quiet, studying your drawing with those green eyes of his. Finally, he nods. @@.vincent;"Makes sense. I think that history's just a mirror as well. People only notice what they're ready to see in it."@@ The words feel heavier than you expect. You don't say anything, but you feel something twist in your chest. The cracked mirror stares back at you, purple lines bright against the canvas of the wall. It's not perfect, but it's yours. <<elseif $d20muraldrawing is 1>>\ For a moment, you hover, unsure what to draw. Then you start with a sweeping curve, rising high across the blank space. A wing. Then another, stretched out wide. You add a few feathers, strokes jagged but alive. Finally, a body, talons gripping at nothing, a long tail curling into flame. When you pull back, a phoenix spreads across the canvas. It's rough, sure, but unmistakable. Its wings burn outward, purple fire licking around it, the kind of bird that rises from its own ashes again and again. Luke whistles low. @@.luke;"Woah. That's... actually sick."@@ Samantha tilts her head, her expression unreadable at first. Then she gives a little smirk. @@.samantha;"Subtle, Yoon. Totally subtle."@@ You shrug, capping the marker. @@.player;"I don't know. It just... felt right."@@ Vincent's eyes linger on it longer than anyone else's. His voice is soft when he speaks. @@.vincent;"A rebirth. Something dying and coming back again, stronger. That's... bold."@@ He looks at you like he's about to say more, but stops himself. Just nods once, firmly, like he respects it. The phoenix spreads its wings, glowing in purple. It stands out against the scrawls of names and doodles, larger, louder, almost alive. A symbol of something you can't quite name. <<elseif $d20muraldrawing is 2>>\ You spin the purple marker around your fingers a couple times, then grin. You know exactly what to draw. You crouch down next to Vincent's storming palace scene and start sketching. First, a broad oval for a head, then messy curles of hair. A goofy grin. Thick lines for shoulders. Next to it, sharper eyes, an arched brow, a smirk, and a beanie. When you step back, you've doodled two small cartoon figures with exaggerated expressions. Luke has a football in one hand while Samantha has claws and cat ears. Luke bursts out laughing. @@.luke;"Dude. That's supposed to be me? I look like a caveman."@@ @@.samantha;"That's accurate,"@@ Samantha deadpans. Then she squints at her own doodle. @@.samantha;"Okay, claws? Rude."@@ You grin. @@.player;"What? It's fitting."@@ Vincent looks over, his lips twitching into a smile. @@.vincent;"That's really nice."@@ You cap the marker and shrug. @@.player;"After all, what would my high school experience have been without them?"@@ Luke slings an arm over your shoulder. @@.luke;"Damn right, $name. We're immortalized now. Future generations will study this art and know I was jacked."@@ @@.samantha;"You're a stick figure,"@@ Samantha says flatly. But there's a flicker of warmth in her eyes. The little doodles, ridiculous as they are, sit proudly on the mural wall. Bright purple reminders of the people who shaped your high school years. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Mural 3">><</button>>

You linger by the mural wall, the scent of dry-erase markers faint in the air, as Vincent continues drawing. The hot chips Samantha drew seems to be staring at you, and Luke's hot dog sits suspiciously close to a soldier. The patchwork of everyone's contribution is oddly... perfect. Vincent's brows knit in concentration as he swaps markers, choosing a black one this time. His hand is steady, eyes sharp behind his glasses. Luke leans over his shoulder, munching on something you don't remember him picking up. @@.luke;"Yo, is that a horse? That's a horse, right? Looks kinda like a dog."@@ Vincent sighs, though it's more amused than annoyed. @@.vincent;"It's a cavalry horse, Luke. The anatomy is different."@@ @@.luke;"Dude, that horse would totally lose in race against my hot dog,"@@ Luke says, pointing at his scribble proudly. @@.samantha;"Luke,"@@ Samantha says, rubbing her temples, @@.samantha;"your hot dog doesn't even have legs."@@ @@.luke;"Exactly,"@@ Luke fires back, grinning. @@.luke;"It's aerodynamic."@@ You laugh despite yourself, and even Vincent chuckles, shaking his head as he shades in the soldier's helmet. Samantha crouches down next to Vincent, resting her chin in her hand. @@.samantha;"So, let me get this straight. You've been working on this masterpiece while the rest of us were... you know, actually being teenagers?"@@ Vincent doesn't look up. @@.vincent;"I //am// being a teenager. Just one who prefers to leave behind a historically accurate depiction of 1792."@@ Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"Nerd."@@ @@.vincent;"Accurate nerd,"@@ Vincent mutters, finishing a fine line along the palace roof. Luke plops down cross-legged beside him, nearly knocking over a bin full of markers. @@.luke;"Nah, I think it's cool. Like, I've been to maybe three museums in my life, and one of them was for dinosaurs. This looks way better than the boring bones they had there."@@ @@.vincent;"Dinosaurs are not boring,"@@ Vincent says immediately. Luke throws up his hands. @@.luke;"Okay, true, dinosaurs are awesome. The bones were boring though. They should have an actual dinosaur there. Then I'd go."@@ The four of you banter back and forth as Vincent swaps colors, layering detail after detail, his concentration interrupted every so often by Luke's questions (@@.luke;"Why don't the soldiers have tanks?"@@), Samantha's commentary (@@.samantha;"If you don't draw Marie Antoinette in a wig, you're a coward"@@), and your occasional attempts to defend the thing you drew (@@.player;"It's symbolic, alright? Leave me alone."@@). Finally, after one last stroke of his marker, Vincent stands up and exhales. His hair is messy, his shirt even more smudged with ink, but his eyes are bright. He caps the marker with a snap, straightens up, and announces with quiet pride: @@.vincent;"I'm done."@@ <<button "He's done!" "Day 20 - Mural 4">><</button>>

You step back with the others as Vincent rises, stretching his back with a little groan. For a moment, the four of you just stand there in front of the mural wall, the noise of the gym fading into the background. The scrawls and doodles of other students scatter across the paper in uneven clusters, but Vincent's section is a masterpiece. The storming of the Tuileries Palace bursts across the canvas in a flurry of detail. Soldiers surge forward, flags raised high in a wave of motion. Smokes curl in gray streaks above the rooftops of the palace, windows shattered in jagged black lines. Even some of the crowd have terrified expressions. All of it rendered with nothing but markers in less than half an hour. @@.samantha;"Holy shit,"@@ Samantha breathes, folding her arms but now even trying to hide her awe. @@.samantha;"I was ready to roast you for being a nerd, but this is incredible."@@ Vincent fidgets with the cap of his marker, ears going pink. @@.vincent;"It's alright."@@ @@.samantha;"Alright?!"@@ Samantha waves her hand at the wall. @@.samantha;"It looks like something out of an art book. You seriously did this while the rest of us were screwing around?"@@ Vincent ducks his head. @@.vincent;"I just... got caught up in it."@@ Before you can add anything, Luke pipes up: @@.luke;"My hot dog's better."@@ You whip your head around. @@.player;"What?"@@ He points proudly at his lopsided hot dog with a bun so uneven it looks like it's melting. @@.luke;"I mean, look at it. Clean lines. It tells a story. Hungry hot dog in a lonely world."@@ Samantha groans. @@.samantha;"I can't believe you're even comparing your tragic doodle to this."@@ Luke shrugs, grinning. @@.luke;"Hey, art's subjective."@@ You laugh, shaking your head. It's ridiculous, but somehow makes sense. That's Luke for you. Vincent finally lets out a small laugh too, the tension easing from his shoulders. He sets the markers down in the bin with a clatter, still smiling faintly as he looks at his finished work. @@.vincent;"Well, it won't last forever. But maybe someone will remember it."@@ @@.samantha;"Then sign it,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Artists sign their work, don't they?"@@ Vincent hesitates, but then nods. He picks up a black marker and, in neat handwriting, writes his name just under the palace gates: ''Vincent Sinclair''. Luke immediately grabs an orange marker and scrawls ''LUKE'' in giant block letters on top of his hot dog, adding three exclamation points for good measure. @@.luke;"Future historians are gonna know exactly who to thank."@@ @@.samantha;"Or who to blame,"@@ Samantha mutters, before plucking up a red marker and scribbling ''Samantha Rivera'' under her hot chips, finishing it off with a star that somehow looks sarcastic. You glance at the doodle you drew and uncap another marker. Carefully, you write your name just below it: $name Yoon. The four signatures sit there now. You've made a corner of the wall yours. Luke slings an arm lazily across your shoulders. @@.luke;"C'mon, man. We've got a whole dance floor to dominate."@@ Samantha flicks his arm off and rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"More like a snack bar to dominate. But sure. Let's move on before Luke tries to add ketchup to the mural."@@ Vincent lingers for a moment, still looking at his palace scene, but when you glance back at him, there's pride in his expression. Luke, Samantha, and you head back toward the noise and lights of the gym, leaving the mural behind. A piece of yourselves inked into the night. <<button "Continue" "Day 20 - Choice">><</button>>

<<set $day to 21>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21luminCircle">>\ It's the sound that wakes you first, really. It's not thunder or wind, but rather the soft patter of rain against your window. You blink at the gray morning light. For the first time in weeks, Crestview Bay smells clean again. You sit up and listen, your blanket pooled around you, letting the rain fill the silence. There's something oddly calming about the way each drop feels like it's washing something away. You drag yourself out of bed and walk to the window. Water slides down the glass, tracing thin trails. Across the street, someone's wrestling with an umbrella. The sound of rain on pavement mixes with the hum of the world waking up for yet another Sunday. You catch your reflection in the window, tired eyes and messy hair. Then you hear it. A soft chime, like a glass bell being struck. It's not coming from outside. You turn toward your desk. There, sitting on top of your notebook, is an envelope glowing with a faint purple light. You freeze for a moment before stepping closer. The air feels warm around it, humming with magic. You reach out and touch the paper. It's cool, smooth, and buzzes with magic. The seal breaks on its own, and the glow spreads across the page as words form in elegant handwriting: To $name Yoon: You are invited to attend the next meeting of the Lumin Circle. Please meet at the stone bridge in the woods by eight. Kind regards, Aurora (Don't be late.) You stare at it, confused. The "Lumin Circle"? You've never heard of it. It sounds official, something serious. You can tell the letter's enchanted by her because of the faint shimmer her magic always leaves behind. Before you can even finish thinking, the paper starts to tremble in your hands. The glow brightens, and a breeze stirs out of nowhere. You blink as the letter slips free, drifting upward like it has a mind of its own. It floats across your room and starts bumping softly against the window, tapping politely. You hesitate before opening the window. The cool air rushes in, carrying the scent of wet grass. The moment the glass swings open, the paper flutters and then sails out into the rain, disappearing into the mist. You stand there for a second, staring at the spot where it vanished, your fingers still tingling with leftover magic. Then you glance at the clock. 7:12. Aurora really meant it. You sigh, rub your eyes, and mutter to yourself. @@.player;"Could've at least said what it is."@@ Still, your heart's beating faster now. Whatever this "Lumin Circle" is, Aurora trusted you enough to invite you. That alone feels like something big. <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ The canon outfit is what will $name will be depicted wearing in the CG and have extra dialogue. The button will not appear if you did not buy the goth dress on day 18. </div>\ <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 21 - 2">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<if $outfitUnlock[5] is true>>\ <<button "Wear canon outfit" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 69>><<set $pants to 69>><<set $shoes to 9>>\<<set $outfit to 5>>\<<set $lowerUndergarment to 6>>\<<trackChoice "D21_outfit_selection" "Wear canon outfit" "customization">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $outfit to 69>><<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

Aurora stays quiet for a moment, her eyes sweeping the clearing. The laughter from the charm showcase is still lingering, the kind that leaves everyone smiling even after it fades. The circle hums faintly beneath your feet, warm and alive. Then, she finally stands, brushing down her skirt and clasping her hands together. @@.aurora;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"Enough crafts for now. It's time for something that actually matters."@@ Milo instantly shoots upright, his entire body vibrating with energy. @@.boy;"Wait, is it time? You mean, like, //time// time?"@@ @@.aurora;"Yes, Milo,"@@ Aurora says, smirking. @@.aurora;"It's time."@@ He lets out a strangled sound that could only be described as pure joy. @@.boy;"NO WAY. I'VE BEEN WAITING FOREVER AND EVER FOR THIS!"@@ Amber laughs. @@.amber;"You've only been asking about it every week for, what, a year?"@@ @@.boy;"Fourteen months and three days!"@@ Milo says proudly. @@.aurora;"You've been counting?"@@ Aurora asks, folding her arms. @@.boy;"Of course I've been counting!"@@ @@.daphne;"Admirable dedication,"@@ Daphne says with a smile. Milo pauses. @@.boy;"So, like... you're saying my ADHD was a spiritual test?"@@ @@.amber;"No, I think you're just proof that the universe has a sense of humor."@@ Everyone laughs again, and even Aurora can't help but grin this time. @@.aurora;"Alright, that's enough. Settle down, everyone."@@ She looks at you, eyes calm but glinting with humor. @@.aurora;"And yes, $name. You're getting one too."@@ @@.player;"Wait, what?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Me? What did I do?"@@ Aurora folds her arms. @@.aurora;"You didn't do anything. But you're about to. You're a registered mage now, officially part of the Crestview Bay Branch, which means it's time for you and Milo to summon your familiars."@@ You stare at her. @@.amber;"Okay, so think of a familiar as a spirit companion. A living manifestation of your magic. They're not animals in the normal sense, though. They're reflections of who you are and what your mana feels like."@@ Daphne nods. @@.daphne;"Precisely. They're bridges between your inner and outer worlds. A familiar is your soul translated into another form, bound by instinct and trust."@@ You frown slightly, trying to process it. @@.player;"So I'm just supposed to make a spirit pet out of nowhere?"@@ @@.noah;"It's not out of nowhere,"@@ Noah says, his voice deep and calm. @@.noah;"It's already inside you. The ritual just gives it shape."@@ @@.amber;"Don't worry, Prodigy,"@@ Amber says, patting your shoulder lightly. @@.amber;"It's not as complicated as it sounds."@@ Milo gasps. @@.boy;"I'M SO EXCITED I'M GONNA DIE—"@@ Aurora rolls her eyes fondly. @@.aurora;"You'll survive, Milo. Probably."@@ There's that small, teasing smirk again. The rest of the circle shrugs as Aurora steps to the center. She lifts one hand, purple mana pulses in the air, and the air stirs. The glow coalesces into white and blue feathers, shimmering like moonlight reflected on ice. Then, from the air itself, a large owl takes form. It's wings unfold gracefully, each feather etched with faint, rune-like markings that pulse with pale light. The creature's eyes are a deep purple, ancient and intelligent. It lands neatly on Aurora's arm. @@.aurora;"This is Astraea,"@@ Aurora says, her voice proud but fond. @@.aurora;"She's been with me since I was fourteen."@@ The owl hoots. Milo immediately collapses forward onto the table like he's been struck by the purest manifestation of beauty. @@.boy;"She's... SHE'S SO COOL! Like, wow, what the hell, why is she glowing like that? Does she do that all the time? Can she freeze people?!?"@@ @@.aurora;"Only when she's annoyed,"@@ Aurora says, smirk widening. Milo's eyes widen in panic. @@.boy;"Oh my God, she just looked at me."@@ @@.amber;"Don't worry,"@@ Amber says, snickering. @@.amber;"She only mauls people on Sundays."@@ Aurora plays along, deadpan. @@.aurora;"Especially when she's in the woods."@@ Milo yells, ducking behind his chair, and the circle dissolves into laughter again. Hell, even Astraea seems amused. Her head tilts, feathers fluffing slightly as she lets out a quiet, satisfied hoot. Aurora strokes her feathers, smiling down at her familiar. @@.aurora;"She helps me focus,"@@ she says softly. @@.aurora;"And she keeps me honest as well. Familiars don't speak in words, but trust me when I say they ''always'' make their feelings known. She reminds me if I'm... doing something wrong."@@ @@.amber;"Yeah, that tracks,"@@ Amber says. Daphne nods. @@.daphne;"The owl is a symbol of wisdom but also reflection. A mirror between light and shadow."@@ Aurora sighs. @@.aurora;"Daphne, if you start quoting Aristotle again, I'm sending Astraea to steal your notes."@@ @@.daphne;"I was going to quote Plato, actually,"@@ Daphne corrects, utterly unfazed. Aurora shakes her head, but she's laughing now. @@.aurora;"Alright, everyone,"@@ she says, gesturing toward the others. @@.aurora;"Let's see yours."@@ Amber steps up next. Her expression becomes almost mischievous as she snaps her fingers. A ripple of amber light arcs around her wrist, and from the shimmer, a sleek, red-orange fox materializes. Its fur glows faintly like embers and each step leaves small sparks in the air before fading. Its eyes are a bright goldenrod, and there's something distinctly human in the way it tilts its head. @@.amber;"This little troublemaker is Sol,"@@ Amber says with a grin, crouching to scratch the fox behind the ears. @@.amber;"He's been with me for ages now. And before anyone asks, he does know he's pretty."@@ Sol flicks his tail, and a few motes of light spark out, swirling upward like fireflies. Noah chuckles. @@.noah;"That tracks. You both have the same energy."@@ @@.amber;"Takes one to know one, right?"@@ Amber says, smirking. Milo gasps. @@.boy;"He's literally glowing, though. Is that safe? He looks like he's on fire!"@@ @@.amber;"He's warm, not hot,"@@ Amber states, shrugging. @@.amber;"Unless he's mad. Then he might give you a mild burn."@@ Sol yawns, a small flame curling from his mouth before fading away. Daphne's eyes glint with admiration. @@.daphne;"The fox, a symbol of wit and adaptability. A being of liminality, walking the line between the mundane and the mystical. Very you."@@ @@.amber;"Why thank you, Professor,"@@ Amber says, bowing. Aurora leans back slightly with a smirk. @@.aurora;"At least one of you has a familiar that doesn't bite."@@ @@.amber;"That's not true,"@@ Amber says cheerfully. @@.amber;"He's bitten plenty of people."@@ @@.aurora;"Why does that not surprise me?"@@ Aurora murmurs. Amber just grins. Noah goes next. The ground under his feet hums faintly as he kneels, one hand pressed to the floor. @@.noah;"Alright, big guy,"@@ he says quietly. @@.noah;"Let's show them."@@ The sigils flicker again, this time glowing a deep, warm bronze. The light builds slowly, unlike the others which were sharp and sudden. Then the air ripples, and from the glow emerges an enormous bear-shaped creature made of shadow and starlight. Its fur is a deep midnight blue, dusted with faint constellations that move slowly across its back. Despite its size, the creature seems peaceful, lowering its massive head so Noah can pat it gently. @@.noah;"This is Ursa,"@@ Noah says proudly. @@.noah;"She's been around longer than most of my friendships."@@ Milo's jaw drops to the floor. @@.boy;"DUDE, SHE'S HUGE."@@ @@.noah;"She's gentle,"@@ Noah says, smiling gently. @@.noah;"That is, unless someone hurts me or my friends. Then she's... less gentle."@@ Amber grins. @@.amber;"You're basically the same, then."@@ @@.aurora;"That explains a lot,"@@ Aurora says. Even Daphne looks quietly moved. @@.daphne;"The bear represents protection and perseverance. Fitting, considering your temperament."@@ Ursa lets out a soft, rumbling growl that reverberates through the floor like thunder, then rests her enormous head beside Noah's knee. Milo just stares, whispering under his breath, @@.boy;"''I'' want one that big."@@ @@.amber;"Size isn't everything,"@@ Amber says teasingly. @@.boy;"Yes it is!"@@ Milo blurts. Finally, Daphne stands. She closes her eyes, spreading her hands gracefully as the air stirs. Her summoning feels quieter. It's less explosive and more deliberate. The sigils beneath her feet shift to a dark black, and the scent of old parchment and smoke fills the room. From the swirling air emerges a raven, sleek and black as ink. Yet, somehow, its feathers shimmer faintly with purple and blue hues like oil on water. Its eyes gleam with shifting colors, and when it caws, the sound echoes in two tones at once. @@.daphne;"My little raven Mnemosyne,"@@ Daphne says, smiling faintly as it lands on her shoulder. @@.daphne;"She embodies memory and curiosity. She helps me think through things I can't yet articulate."@@ The raven tilts its head and pecks at a strand of Daphne's hair. Amber chuckles. @@.amber;"And occasionally insults you."@@ @@.daphne;"She's opinionated,"@@ Daphne admits. @@.daphne;"But then, so am I."@@ @@.aurora;"A philosopher with a philosopher's bird,"@@ Aurora says, smiling faintly. @@.aurora;"Perfect match."@@ Daphne strokes Mnemosyne's chest feathers. @@.daphne;"Every philosopher needs an audience, after all."@@ @@.noah;"You three ''really'' fit your familiars,"@@ Noah says, smiling warmly. @@.noah;"It's kind of eerie."@@ @@.aurora;"Noah, trust me when I say you and Ursa fit perfectly as well,"@@ Aurora says, laughing lightly. @@.aurora;"But that's kind of the point of it, no? They're extensions of us."@@ She pauses and looks toward Milo. @@.aurora;"And now... I think someone's been waiting long enough."@@ Milo practically explodes out of his chair, knocking over Amber's cup and nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush toward the glowing center of the circle. Aurora just shakes her head, grinning. @@.aurora;"Try not to blow anything up this time, Milo."@@ @@.boy;"No promises!"@@ he says. @@.boy;"So... what do I have to do?"@@ Noah shifts his weight, his massive arms folding across his chest as he looks down at Milo with a gentle smile. @@.noah;"It's simple, kid,"@@ he says, his voice low and steady. @@.noah;"You don't force it. You think of things that calm you, or make you happy. Good memories, people you care about, places that feel peaceful."@@ @@.boy;"That's it?"@@ Milo asks, tilting his head. @@.boy;"I just... think happy thoughts?"@@ @@.amber;"And channel your mana while you're doing it,"@@ Amber says, grinning. @@.amber;"Don't forget that part."@@ Daphne adds, @@.daphne;"Think of it as a meditation between self and spirit. The familiar takes shape where memory and magic meet."@@ Milo nods so fast it looks like his head might just fly off. @@.boy;"Got it! Memory, nature, happiness, mana. Easy!"@@ @@.aurora;"We'll see,"@@ Aurora says, clearly amused. Milo steps into the center of the circle. The blue-white light intensifies, swirling around his shoes like mist. He closes his eyes, face scrunching up in concentration and hands clutched tightly at his sides. For five long seconds, everyone watches him. The silence stretches. Then Milo pops one eye open. @@.boy;"It's not working."@@ @@.amber;"That was five seconds,"@@ Amber comments. @@.boy;"Well, it //felt// like a century!"@@ he protests. @@.aurora;"That's because patience isn't one of your virtues,"@@ Aurora says with a sigh. @@.aurora;"Try again, and this time, actually breathe."@@ @@.boy;"I am breathing!"@@ @@.aurora;"Then breathe slower,"@@ Aurora says. Milo groans dramatically but closes his eyes again. This time, he takes a deep breath. The runes beneath him flicker faintly, responding to his mana. His shoulders relax and his expression softens. The room quiets, and even the hum of the circle seems to hold its breath. Ten seconds pass. Then twenty. Then thirty. And then there's a flash. A wild surge of light bursts from the ground, scattering glitter-like particles through the air. A shape forms in the middle of it. It's small, round, and moving. When the light fades, everyone stares at the goat standing right in the center of the Lumin Circle. The goat stands at about hip-height, snow-white with little golden markings curling along its horns and hooves like vines. Its eyes gleam with chaotic mischief. The second it locks eyes with Milo, it lets out a loud "BAAAAH!" and immediately tries to climb his leg. Milo gasps. @@.boy;"Oh my God. He's ''PERFECT''."@@ Amber claps a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. @@.amber;"Oh no. You got a goat?"@@ Daphne tilts her head, her tone thoughtful but also laced with amusement. @@.daphne;"It's actually symbolically fitting. Goats represent vitality, determination, and chaos."@@ @@.aurora;"Mostly chaos,"@@ Aurora mutters under her breath, smiling. Noah laughs, the sound deep and genuine. @@.noah;"Man, that thing's got energy. You sure you can handle it?"@@ @@.boy;"Handle it?"@@ Milo asks, beaming. He's holding the goat in both arms like it's the greatest treasure he's ever seen. @@.boy;"He's my best friend! Look at him! He's perfect!"@@ The goat wiggles free and immediately starts nibbling at Milo's sleeve. Milo yelps, laughing uncontrollably. @@.boy;"He's so ALIVE!"@@ @@.amber;"So are most things, Milo,"@@ Amber comments, grinning. Aurora shakes her head. She's clearly amused, yet still pretending to be exasperated. @@.aurora;"You'd better keep him from eating anything magical or explosive."@@ @@.boy;"Well, I'll name him Nimbus!"@@ Milo declares proudly. @@.boy;"Because he's fast, and bright, and fluffy!"@@ The goat lets out another loud bleat in agreement. @@.aurora;"Of course you will,"@@ Aurora says, sighing. Daphne smiles. @@.daphne;"You've just found your divine twin. How poetic."@@ Milo hugs Nimbus tightly, grinning from ear to ear. @@.boy;"This is the best day of my life."@@ @@.aurora;"I'm glad to see you so happy, Milo,"@@ Aurora says, giving him a fond look. @@.aurora;"Truly."@@ Then she turns to you, her eyes meeting yours. @@.aurora;"And now, $name, it's your turn."@@ Everyone looks your way. The air hums again, alive with expectation. The circle glows faintly beneath your feet, as if it already know what's coming. <<button "Familiar Time" "Day 21 - 11">><</button>>

You step into the middle of the Lumin Circle, your heart pounding harder than it should for something that's supposedly safe. The glow beneath your feet brightens instantly, soft lavender lines of mana crawling up your shoes like veins of light. The rain outside has softened to a faint patter, but in here, it's so still you can hear every breath. Everyone's eyes are on you: Aurora, Amber, Daphne, Noah, and Milo. Even their familiars watch from beside them. @@.player;"So... uh,"@@ you start, shifting your weight nervously. @@.player;"What if I mess this up?"@@ Aurora's voice comes first, calm and faintly teasing. @@.aurora;"You won't, $name. You're the most talented mage we've seen in ages. But if you do, we'll all laugh and then fix it."@@ @@.player;"That's supposed to make me feel better?"@@ you ask, shooting her a look. @@.amber;"Humor helps,"@@ Amber says, smirking. @@.amber;"You should be glad. It's worse when she tries to be serious. She'd say some shit like 'Failure is a lesson.'"@@ Aurora pretends not to hear that. Noah steps forward, slow and steady. He's ''massive'' up close, but there's nothing intimidating about him. He places a big hand gently on your shoulder. @@.noah;"You don't need to overthink it, kid,"@@ he says, voice low and even. @@.noah;"It's not about power. It's about connection."@@ @@.player;"Connection,"@@ you repeat quietly. @@.noah;"Yeah,"@@ he says, nodding. @@.noah;"You're not pulling something out of the air. You're letting part of yourself show. The part that already understands who you are, even if you don't yet."@@ His hand falls away, but his smile stays. @@.noah;"Start simple. Think of something that makes you feel alive. A happy memory or a peaceful one. Even something small, like the smell of the ocean or a time you laughed so hard you couldn't breathe."@@ Daphne nods thoughtfully. @@.daphne;"The familiar is your reflection. It answers truth, not perfection."@@ You let their words sink in. The room feels warmer somehow, less like a stage, more like a sanctuary. @@.boy;"You got this, $name!"@@ Milo says, bouncing in place. @@.boy;"Don't explode or anything, though."@@ Aurora exhales a quiet laugh. @@.aurora;"He's not you."@@ @@.noah;"Now breathe,"@@ Noah says, stepping back. @@.noah;"Focus on the good, let go of everything else. Your mana will do the rest."@@ You close your eyes. The magic hums under your feet, thrumming with your heartbeat. You can feel it rising slowly, drawn to the surface by something you can't quite name. The air shifts, becoming cooler and heavier. You try to clear your mind, but flashes of memory slip in anyways. Faces, voices, laughter. You let them come. Sunlight on the water. Laughter in the rain. Your friend's faces. The magic thickens, gathering around you in slow, swirling currents of light. You feel your pulse sync with it. Somewhere, you hear Noah's voice again, calm and grounding. @@.noah;"That's it. Let it move through you. Don't chase it, just breathe. The world remembers who you are. You just need to remind it."@@ You exhale slowly. It's time to decide what memory to hold onto and what warmth to give form to. <<button "Think of quiet company by a campfire" "Day 21 - 12">>\<<set $familiar to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D21_familiar" "Think of quiet company by a campfire" "story">><</button>> <<button "Think of warmth curling around your hand" "Day 21 - 12">>\<<set $familiar to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D21_familiar" "Think of warmth curling around your hand" "story">><</button>> <<button "Think of running beside someone through the woods" "Day 21 - 12">>\<<set $familiar to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D21_familiar" "Think of running beside someone through the woods" "story">><</button>>

<<if $familiar is 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Familiar1">>\ You close your eyes and start thinking of something good. Something that makes you feel alive. At first, there's just the hum of the circle and the low whisper of rain outside. But then, faintly, a flicker of memory begins to glow behind your eyelids. A small campfire, sputtering against the night. You remember the smell of smoke on your hoodie, the faint warmth of ash glowing like scattered stars. You were younger then, maybe twelve or thirteen, out in the woods with your family. You remember the sound of crickets, your sister Lily wrapped up in a blanket, pretending to be bored but secretly loving it. Your dad poking at the fire with a stick, trying to make sure it doesn't die. Your mom laughing quietly when the flames flared too high. And you, staring into the fire and thinking how strange it was that something so bright could exist in so much darkness. You can almost feel the crackle of heat again, the glow flickering across your hands. Your chest feels warmer and lighter, like the cold tension you'd been holding for weeks is finally thawing. The memory deepens. Lily's sleepy voice beside you, muttering something about s'mores and burnt marshmallows. The sound of rain starting to fall on canvas, your dad swearing quietly as he tried to cover the fire. The world felt simple then. Your heart tightens, but it's not painful. It's more like a soft ache that reminds you of everything that made that night real. The lavender glow of your mana responds, rising around you like a soft mist. It curls gently through the air, shimmering like starlight through smoke. Somewhere behind you, you hear Amber whisper, @@.amber;"He's doing it."@@ Aurora's voice is lower, but proud. @@.aurora;"Of course he is."@@ You focus on that feeling. Warmth, laughter, and the sound of the rain starting to fall on the tent roof. You can smell the campfire away, the way it mingled with the forest. Wood and earth and smoke and safety. And then you ''feel'' it. That small, quiet presence that's not you but close enough to feel like home. Something watching and waiting. The lavender glow shifts, deepens in color, and ripples across the circle in small waves. The runes beneath your feet flare brighter, and a wind stirs from nowhere. A small shape steps out of the swirling light. At first, it's only an outline. Four legs, a flicking tail, two tufted ears. Then the form sharpens, colors coalescing. A lynx appears. It's about knee-height and very graceful. It's fur shimmers with gray, with bright lavender streaks that glows and fades with each heartbeat. Tiny runes, almost invisible, trace faint lines along its shoulders and legs like cracks of soft lighting under fur. Its eyes open and they're wide, curious, and the color of pale amethyst. They meet yours without hesitation. @@.player;"Oh..."@@ you say, exhaling shakily. The lynx tilts its head, blinking slowly, and pads forward with the soundless grace of something born of magic rather than earth. It stops right in front of you, looking up. You hesitate for half a second before crouching down, extending a hand. It doesn't hesitate. It presses its head into your palm with warmth, soft fur brushing your skin. You feel a rush of emotion. Recognition and safety. A tiny pulse of lavender light blooms under your hand, the same color as your mana, and the lynx purrs. @@.amber;"Well, would you look at that,"@@ Amber says, smiling. Milo is immediately on the floor. @@.boy;"Oh my God, she's so CUTE! Look at her ears!"@@ @@.daphne;"A lynx,"@@ Daphne says, laughing softly. @@.daphne;"A creature of patience and instinct. You couldn't have chosen better."@@ Noah nods. @@.noah;"Quiet strength. It fits you."@@ Aurora kneels a little, her owl blinking beside her. The lavender light reflects in her eyes. @@.aurora;"She's beautiful, $name,"@@ she says softly. @@.aurora;"You did it."@@ The lynx looks at Aurora curiously, then flicks her tail and turns back to you. It's as if she's deciding that no one else matters right now. You can't help but laugh. @@.player;"Hey there,"@@ you murmur, running a hand through her fur. @@.player;"Guess you're stuck with me now."@@ She blinks once, slow and deliberate, then stands. She stretches against your knee, letting out a satisfied purr. You nearly stumble backward as she applies more weight than you expected. The warmth from her body spreads through you. It's not just physical warmth, but something else. She makes you feel understood without saying a single word. @@.aurora;"Looks like you've found your other half,"@@ Aurora says. Amber grins. @@.amber;"You sure did. I think she suits $name."@@ @@.boy;"We're like a team now!"@@ Milo beams. @@.boy;"Nimbus and, uh, what's your lynx's name?"@@ @@.player;"Name?"@@ you ask. Aurora chuckles softly. @@.aurora;"She'll tell you, eventually. You'll just... know."@@ As if on cue, you feel the faintest tug in your chest. A name forming in the space between your heartbeat and your breath. @@.player;"Sable,"@@ you whisper. The lynx's tail swishes once, pleased. @@.amber;"Good name,"@@ Amber comments. @@.noah;"Strong and steady,"@@ Noah says, nodding approvingly. @@.noah;"Like light that doesn't burn."@@ Sable, your Sable, nuzzles your cheek and purrs. You can't help but smile. <<elseif $familiar is 1>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Familiar2">>\ You close your eyes, and the circle hums softly around you. The scent of rain lingers faintly in the air, but beneath it, you imagine smoke. Dry wood catching fire and the faint tang of ash. The image pulls you backward through time before you can even stop it. You're a kid again. Out in the forest, under a heavy canvas sky of stars. The air smells of pine needles and dirt and burnt marshmallow sugar. Lily is trying to roast hers but keeps setting them on fire. She laughs too loud, and your mom tells her to quiet down so the animals don't get scared. Your dad sits beside you, poking the campfire with a stick, saying he's "just managing it" even though it's obvious he's making it worse. The fire crackles high for a moment, throwing gold light across his face. You remember the way the glow softened his expression. He reached out and put his hand on yours, just for a second. His palm was rough, calloused, but warm and real. You'd never forget that warmth. Back in the present, you can still feel it now, curling around your hand like it's reaching through time. That quiet security of knowing someone was there for you. The lavender light of your mana stirs to life, rippling upward through the circle. It doesn't flare, but rather pulses. You exhale slowly, and the glow spreads from your feet to your hands, threads of lavender mist swirling outward into the air. @@.amber;"There it is,"@@ Amber mumbles, voice low and impressed. @@.amber;"He's found his focus."@@ @@.noah;"Keep that feeling close, $name,"@@ Noah says, tone warm and encouraging. @@.noah;"Don't chase it, let it come to you."@@ You nod faintly, eyes still closed. The circle hums louder, the runes shifting. The warmth in your hand deepens, twisting and coiling. For a heartbeat, you feel something move. Not outside, but within the glow itself. And then you see it. Not with your eyes, but somewhere deeper. A flicker of silver scales curling through the light, fluid and elegant. The warmth around your hand tightens once, and then bursts outward in a soft spiral of light. Gasps echo around you and you open your eyes. From the center of the lavender mist, something takes form. A slender, elegant snake, its scales a shifting mix of silver and pale purple. The creature's body shimmers faintly, runes glowing faintly along its back in smooth, looping patterns that pulse in time with your mana. Its eyes are wide and curious, a pale amethyst. It isn't menacing, not even a little. It lifts its head slowly and gracefully, blinking once before tilting its head at you as though studying you. Then, it slides forward soundlessly, the tip of its tail leaving faint sparks of lavender light across the floor. Milo's eyes go wide. @@.boy;"A snake?! Oh my God, that's so cool! Look at it, it's glowing."@@ @@.amber;"Of course it is,"@@ Amber says, laughing softly. @@.amber;"Prodigy's mana has style."@@ @@.daphne;"Fascinating,"@@ Daphne says, smiling faintly. @@.daphne;"The serpent is a symbol of wisdom, renewal, and continuity. Very fitting."@@ Noah crouches a bit to get a closer look. @@.noah;"Looks like she likes you already."@@ You blink. @@.player;"She does?"@@ The snake stops right at your shoes, lifting her head higher. She flicks her tongue out once, tasting the air. You freeze instinctively, not sure what to do, but then she slowly slides up your shoe and cross your leg until she's resting her head against your palm. Warmth. It's the same kind of warmth you'd felt that night many years ago, sitting beside your dad. She presses against your skin gently, her scales smooth and faintly cool but radiating a strange, soothing comfort beneath the surface. The lavender glow flares softly where she touches you, merging seamlessly with your mana. You can feel it now, a reassuring hum at the back of your mind. @@.amber;"She's beautiful,"@@ Amber murmurs. Aurora's expression softens. @@.aurora;"She's calm. That's quite rare. Most serpents are defensive when first summoned."@@ Daphne tilts her head. @@.daphne;"That may say more about the summoner than the familiar."@@ @@.boy;"So she's, like, nice because $name's nice?"@@ Milo asks, gasping dramatically. Aurora smirks faintly. @@.aurora;"Let's not stretch it, Milo."@@ You can't help but laugh, still staring at the serpent curled in your hands. Her scales shimmer when she moves, refracting lavender and silver light like water over glass. You lift your hand slightly, and she follows the motion easily, coiling up your wrist in a smooth, deliberate movement until her whole body is wrapped around your forearm. She settles there like she belongs. Her tail flicks, making a pleasant chime sound instead of a metallic rattle. @@.player;"She's beautiful,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"She's not what I expected, but... she feels right."@@ @@.amber;"Then she's perfect,"@@ Amber says. @@.amber;"That's how you know."@@ @@.noah;"Gentle strength,"@@ Noah says, giving you a proud nod. @@.noah;"Same as you."@@ Aurora tilts her head slightly, her tone teasing but softer than usual. @@.aurora;"Try not to let her coil around your neck. I'd rather not write //that// report."@@ @@.player;"Noted,"@@ you say, grinning a little. The snake seems amused by the laughter, lifting her head and rubbing the side of her snout against your jaw before curling a little tighter. A faint vibration hums through your wrist, but its less of a hiss and more of a purr. @@.amber;"A serpent that purrs,"@@ Amber says, whistling softly. @@.amber;"Now that's new."@@ Daphne smiles, eyes glinting. @@.daphne;"Perhaps the distinction between danger and comfort is smaller than we think. Nietzche would've enjoyed that."@@ @@.boy;"Neetch?"@@ Milo asks, looking lost. @@.boy;"Is that, like, a famous snake guy? Like Jane Goodall?"@@ Everyone laughs, even Aurora. The tension in the room dissolves completely. You look down at your new companion again. Her body glows faintly in the circle's light, matching the pulse of your mana perfectly. The glow dances across her scales like starlight over rippling water. @@.player;"Guess you're mine now,"@@ you whisper. The snake raises her head slightly, eyes bright and affectionate. In your mind, you don't hear words, but rather a feeling of contentment, loyalty, and warmth. @@.player;"Seraphine,"@@ you murmur suddenly, the name spilling out before you can think. It just feels right. @@.aurora;"Seraphine,"@@ Aurora says, nodding approvingly. @@.aurora;"A good name."@@ @@.amber;"Elegant, like her summoner,"@@ Amber comments. Milo still can't sit still. @@.boy;"Seraphine and Nimbus! Dynamic duo!"@@ Daphne chuckles. @@.daphne;"Let's hope they don't fight."@@ You run a hand along Seraphine's back again, feeling her muscles ripple lightly beneath your fingers. She leans into the touch and lets out that soft chime again, her body faintly glowing brighter where your hand moves. For the first time, the idea of being part of this world doesn't feel quite so heavy. <<elseif $familiar is 2>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Familiar3">>\ You close your eyes and the world begins to blur at the edges. Rain, the scent of wet grass, the faint hum of the Lumin Circle beneath your feet. Noah's voice echoes somewhere behind you, calm and reassuring. @@.noah;"Let it come naturally, $name. Think of something warm and alive within you."@@ Warm and alive. You reach for that feeling, fumbling through the noise in your mind until something familiar surfaces. A fragment of laughter, sunlight on leaves, the sound of footsteps crushing over pine needles. And suddenly, you're there again. You're maybe twelve, maybe thirteen. The air is bright and cold, the kind that bites your lungs when you breathe even a little too fast. You're out in the woods on one of those family camping trips, the kind that always started as "quiet time in nature" and ended with someone losing a shoe in the river. Your mom's calling at you to slow down, not because she can't keep up, but because she's laughing too hard to breathe. You remember looking back and seeing her stumble a little, her hair messy, her face lit up in a way you didn't see often. Not tired or worried, but free. @@.girl;"Don't you ''dare'' run off without me, mister!"@@ she'd shouted, pretending to scold you. You'd slowed down just long enough for her to catch you, and when she did, she grabbed your hand, pulling you along into a sprint through the trees. The sunlight broke through the branches, golden and fractured. You remember the smell of pine, the feel of her hand around yours, warm and steady. You remember the sound of your laughter mixing with hers, echoing through the woods. And in that moment, everything felt infinite. You weren't thinking about school or expectations or who you were supposed to be. You were just running. Just ''alive''. The memory grows brighter, and warmth begins to flood through your chest. The lavender light of your mana flickers to life, faint at first before deepening. It spreads like ripples across water, climbing up your arms and curling through the air in soft, silken threads. @@.amber;"That's it,"@@ Amber murmurs softly. @@.amber;"He's found it."@@ Aurora doesn't speak, but you can hear the quiet pride in her breathing. It's clear she's truly impressed. The warmth builds until it feels like the whole forest is breathing with you. The air around you shifts and a low wind stirs the edge of the circle. You feel it before you see it: something moving in the magic, brushing past your ankles, circling lightly. A whisper of motion and energy. The lavender mist thickens, swirling tighter and faster until a shape begins to form. At first, it's just movement. A flicker and a heartbeat of light. Then it sharpens. Four paws, a tail, and two pointed ears peaked in alert curiosity. The mist folds inward and gives way to fur, silver-gray with warm tan streaks, soft and faintly luminescent in the circle's glow. The creature steps forward on quiet paws, its movement careful but confident. A coyote. Its eyes open, amethyst with streaks of gold at the edges. It reflects the magic still fading in the air. You take a slow breath as it studies you, head tilted slightly, tail swaying with cautious interest. Milo breaks the silence first. @@.boy;"OH MY GOD. SHE'S SO FLUFFY!"@@ @@.amber;"You say that about everything, Milo,"@@ Amber says, amused. @@.boy;"She is, though!"@@ he insists. @@.boy;"Look at her ears! They're perfect!"@@ Noah crouches slightly, resting his arms on his knees. @@.noah;"She's calm. That's a good sign."@@ He looks up at you with a reassuring smile. @@.noah;"Coyotes are survivors. Smart, loyal, and adaptable. Good partner to have."@@ @@.player;"She's a coyote?"@@ you ask, still in shock. @@.player;"Really?"@@ Aurora folds her arms lightly, but there's a teasing tone in her voice. @@.aurora;"You sound disappointed."@@ @@.player;"No I just wasn't expecting anything like this,"@@ you say, laughing quietly. The coyote takes a few cautious steps closer, sniffing the air near you. The tip of her nose glows faintly, matching the lavender shimmer still flowing around the circle. When you lower yourself to one knee, she approaches without hesitation and presses her forehead against your hand. Her fur is soft and warm like living sunlight. Something in your chest breaks open then. You stroke her head gently, and she leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed, tail thumping against the floor. You can feel her presence echo inside your mind. Not in words, but emotion. Joy, trust, and familiarity. Like she's always known you, even before you knew yourself. @@.amber;"See?"@@ Amber says, smiling softly. @@.amber;"She already knows you."@@ Daphne nods, voice thoughtful. @@.daphne;"Coyotes symbolize resilience as they thrive where others don't through a balance of cunning and community. That's quiet poetic, don't you think?"@@ Milo's practically vibrating in place. @@.boy;"You guys, she just licked his hand! She likes him! She's the best one so far, I'm calling it!"@@ @@.aurora;"What happened to your goat?"@@ Aurora asks, giving him a dry look. @@.boy;"Yeah, but this time I mean it!"@@ Everyone laughs, even Aurora, though she tries to hide it. The tension in the circle fades completely, replaced by warmth and soft chatter. The coyote looks up at you again, her tail swishing lazily. You can see faint patterns glowing along her fur. Delicate, natural runes pulse in lavender light whenever she moves. Her ears flick as she listens to your breathing, like she's already learned your rhythm. @@.player;"Hey there,"@@ you whisper, resting your hand against her neck. Her amethyst eyes meet yours, full of something gentle and old. She licks your fingers once, then sits beside you, leaning into your leg like she's claimed the spot as hers. @@.noah;"She fits you,"@@ Noah says, letting out a quiet hum. @@.noah;"You can tell."@@ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"She's steady and grounded. I think she'll keep you out of trouble."@@ @@.amber;"Or in it,"@@ Amber corrects, smirking. @@.amber;"Coyotes are tricksters, you know."@@ Daphne smiles faintly. @@.daphne;"They walk the edge between wildness and loyalty. It's... fitting, for someone still finding balance."@@ You glance down at her again, laughing softly. @@.player;"She's perfect."@@ At that, the coyote lifts her head, letting out a single soft yip. The sound makes Milo clap his hands. @@.boy;"She said hi! Oh my God, that's adorable."@@ The others start talking, congratulating you and laughing, but it all blurs for a moment. The only thing you really notice is the weight of her fur against your leg and the faint warmth in your chest. You can feel her name settle into your thoughts. @@.player;"Solana,"@@ you whisper. Her ears perk up. She blinks at you before wagging her tail. @@.amber;"Solana,"@@ Amber repeats grinning. @@.amber;"Fitting."@@ @@.noah;"She's a good match, $name,"@@ Noah states. @@.boy;"Welcome to the team, Solana!"@@ Milo says, giving a dramatic salute. Aurora just folds her arms, smirking faintly. @@.aurora;"Try to keep her from eating Milo."@@ @@.boy;"Hey!"@@ Everyone laughs again and you can't stop smiling. Solana leans against your side, curling her tail around your leg like she's decided she belongs there. Her eyes glow faint lavender in the dim light, reflecting your own mana. You can feel the faint pulse of her heartbeat against your knee. The world doesn't feel so heavy anymore, like you're running through the woods again. <</if>>\ <<button "Your cute little familiar" "Day 21 - 13">><</button>>

The air in the Lumin Circle feels softer now, warm from laughter and glowing faintly from the residual magic of familiars. The spirit pets themselves lounge nearby: Milo's goat is nibbling on a stray charm thread, Aurora's owl is preening its feathers on a branch overhead, Amber's fox is curled around her ankles, Daphne's raven perches regally on a tree trunk, and Noah's bear, which thankfully can shrink, is contently hanging around by the trees. \ \ <<if $familiar is 0>>\ Your lynx familiar, Sable, is sitting next to you on the log. She occasionally bats at you with her paws, begging for attention. <<elseif $familiar is 1>>\ Seraphine, your rattlesnake, is wrapped around your arm. Her scaly head rests against you as she rests. <<elseif $familiar is 2>>\ Solana is standing guard in front of you, the patterns in her fur glowing. She glances back at you every once in a while, making sure you're safe. <</if>>\ Aurora coughs, drawing everyone's attention back. @@.aurora;"Alright, enough chaos. One last activity before we close the circle."@@ @@.boy;"Is it another summoning?"@@ Milo asks, immediately straightening. @@.boy;"How about a duel? Spell tag is fun, too."@@ @@.aurora;"None of those,"@@ Aurora says, smirking. @@.aurora;"Tea."@@ Milo blinks. @@.boy;"...Tea?"@@ Amber grins and leans back on her chair. @@.amber;"Magic tea brewing, to be exactly. Less explosions, more flavor."@@ Noah raises his hand slightly, and a pulse of deep green mana fills the circle. In an instant, small cauldrons appear before everyone. They're smooth, dark iron, polished, and faintly inscribed with runes along the rim. Steam curls from each one as warm water shimmers into existence inside. @@.noah;"Magic tea,"@@ he says, smiling. @@.noah;"It's a Lumin Circle tradition."@@ @@.boy;"Why aren't we making potions or something?"@@ Milo asks, squinting at his cauldron suspiciously. @@.amber;"That's the fun of it, Milo,"@@ Amber says, grinning. @@.amber;"You can do a lot with magic tea. Energy blends, calming tonics, infusions, and more. All of the taste, none of the danger."@@ @@.player;"Why not make potions though?"@@ you ask, still unconvinced. @@.player;"Isn't that... more useful?"@@ Aurora raises an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"Because there's a nonzero chance that someone would die if they drank Milo's potion."@@ @@.boy;"What?!"@@ Milo yells, hands flying to his chest. @@.boy;"Excuse me?"@@ Amber is already laughing. @@.amber;"She's not wrong, though."@@ Daphne, who has been quietly thumbing through a small notebook of alchemical symbols, adds dryly, @@.daphne;"There's an Aristotelian beauty to restraint, Milo. 'The mean between excess and deficiency.' Moderation, in this case, means not exploding."@@ Milo crosses his arms and pouts. @@.boy;"You guys act like I have a history of exploding stuff."@@ @@.aurora;"You do,"@@ Aurora says, not even bothering to look up. @@.boy;"One time!"@@ @@.amber;"Seven,"@@ Amber corrects gently. @@.amber;"And that's just what I've personally witnessed."@@ Milo throws his hands up. @@.boy;"Ugh! Fine, whatever! But when my tea ends up being the best tea ever brewed, you're all gonna be sorry you doubted me."@@ @@.noah;"That's the spirit,"@@ Noah says, chuckling lowly. He waves a hand, and with a quiet hum of mana, ingredients begin to shimmer into view along the center of the table: glass jars filled with herbs and dried petals, small bowls of glowing fruits, sugar crystals that emit faint light, and even a few vials of colored essence. Each jar seems to react to the magic in the air, leaves fluttering faintly and petals pulsing with soft light when touched. The entire table looks alive, like a frozen garden. Amber picks up a handful of pale blue blossoms, tossing them lightly between her fingers. @@.amber;"The point isn't perfection,"@@ she says. @@.amber;"It's about feeling. You blend what your mana resonates with. The tea changes depending on who makes it."@@ @@.daphne;"It's the alchemy of the self,"@@ Daphne says, nodding. @@.daphne;"Reflection through flavor. The essence of one's soul, made drinkable."@@ Milo squints. @@.boy;"That sounds kinda gross when you put it like that."@@ @@.amber;"Don't worry, Milo,"@@ Amber says, snorting. @@.amber;"No one's drinking your soul."@@ Noah places a hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding. @@.noah;"Don't overthink it, $name. Just start with something that feels right. The first ingredient always guides the rest."@@ You glance down at your small cauldron (more of a polished bowl, really). It glows faintly from the inside, surface shimmering as though waiting for your first decision. All around the circle, the others begin moving. Aurora hums softly as she adds crushed mint leaves to her cauldron, a faint sparkle rising from the steam. Daphne measures her herbs precisely, whispering something about @@.daphne;"harmonizing metaphysical flavor structures."@@ Milo, of course, dumps in three random handfuls of colorful petals, earning an immediately @@.aurora;"Milo, no,"@@ from Aurora. And Aurora herself stirs her ingredients, clearly focused. You look back at your own glowing cauldron, the faint mist swirling lazily inside. The smell of herbs and sugar drifts around you, soft and comforting. Amber leans over with a playful grin. @@.amber;"Alright, Prodigy. What's your first move?"@@ You stare at the ingredients shimmering before you, the light catching on their glass surfaces like stars. Somehow, it feels more than just a choice of flavor. Almost as if the tea will reflect you. <<button "Reach for the lavender sprigs" "Day 21 - 14">>\<<set $d21tea1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D21_tea1" "Reach for the lavender sprigs" "story">><</button>> <<button "Pick the silverleaf petals" "Day 21 - 14">>\<<set $d21tea1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D21_tea1" "Pick the silverleaf petals" "story">><</button>> <<button "Try the moonblossom buds" "Day 21 - 14">>\<<set $d21tea1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D21_tea1" "Try the moonblossom buds" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d21tea1 is 0>>\ You reach for the lavender sprigs. They look ordinary at first, just some pale purple stems tied neatly together, but when your fingertips brush them, the petals shimmer faintly. It's almost as if they're responding to your touch. The scent that rises is delicate and nostalgic: clean and floral. The others are already busy at their stations. Milo has managed to spill sugar crystals all over the table and is loudly insisting it's @@.boy;"part of the aesthetic."@@ Amber just shakes her head, suppressing a grin. Daphne murmurs something about @@.daphne;"alchemy through intention,"@@ and Noah just gives you an encouraging nod, his large hands already steady over his own brew. You take a slow breath and drop the lavender springs into your small cauldron. The moment they touch the faintly glowing water, the color changes. The liquid shifts from clear to a gentle violet haze, ripples of light moving through it like waves of dawn. A faint soft hum fills the air, like the sound of a thought taking shape. @@.amber;"Good choice,"@@ Amber says, her chin resting on her hand. @@.amber;"Lavender's a grounding base, helps the brew resonate with your emotions."@@ Milo squints at his own pot, unimpressed. @@.boy;"Mine's not humming. Why is his humming?"@@ @@.aurora;"Because his didn't involve throwing everything in at once,"@@ Aurora says without looking up. You stifle a laugh, and then close your eyes. The next step is the mana infusion. You've done it before in small things, but this feels more personal. You rest both hands on the sides of the cauldron, which is not hot despite the boiling water. You breathe in and out while focusing on drawing up the soft current of mana that lives within you. It gently responds to your heartbeat before flowing into your fingertips. The lavender in the water begins to glow and you feel something inside your chest shift, like a knot slowly untangling. Comfort floods through you. It's a feeling of home, or something close to it. Not the place, but rather the //feeling//. The memory of safety. @@.noah;"That's good, $name,"@@ Noah rumbles nearby, deep and kind. @@.noah;"Keep it steady. You're not forcing it, just guiding it."@@ Daphne glances over. @@.daphne;"Fascinating resonance pattern. Lavender often harmonizes best with mana connected to memory. You can see it in the texture of the glow."@@ @@.boy;"Mine doesn't have texture,"@@ Milo mumbles, frowning. @@.boy;"I just see green soup."@@ @@.aurora;"Milo, we're making tea,"@@ Aurora says with a sigh. The circle erupts into light laughter, even from Noah, and you can't help but smile. The tension in your shoulder melts away. When you look down again, the liquid has deepened in color, shifting to soft lavender and silver swirls. It even looks alive, the steam rising off it smelling faintly like the air after a storm. You stir once, watching the reflections twist and dance on the surface. For a moment, you just let yourself breathe it in. The warmth that radiates from the cauldron isn't just physical, it seeps into you, calm and grounding. You almost forget why you were even nervous. @@.amber;"Now comes the real fun,"@@ Amber says. @@.amber;"It's time for the flavor infusion. Fruit changes the emotional tone."@@ You glance at the glowing bowls nearby. One has thin slices of oranges that gleam with faint golden runes. The other has plump cherries that are so dark they genuinely look like jewels. You tilt your head, hesitating as the mana still swirls gently in the tea. The orange smells bright and sharp, like sunlight cutting through clouds. On the other hand, the cherries smell deep and rich, almost melancholy. You drum your fingers on the table, caught between the two. <<elseif $d21tea1 is 1>>\ You pick up the bundle of silverleaf petals. At first glance, they're unassuming. Just a pale grayish green with faint metallic vines running through each one. But when the candlelight catches them, they shimmer faintly. As you brush your thumb across a petal, a sharp chill runs through your fingertips. You can feel the mana stores within them. @@.noah;"Ah, silverleaf,"@@ Noah says with an approving hum. @@.noah;"A thinking mage's choice."@@ @@.player;"Thinking mage?"@@ you ask. Amber laughs softly. @@.amber;"He means people who like control. Silverleaf is good at amplifying focus, bravery, and all that jazz."@@ You gently drop the silverleaf petals into your cauldron and watch as they settle onto the surface of the faintly glowing water. The reaction is immediate and quiet, the mixture immediately going still. Impossibly still. Then, one by one, the silver veins in the petals begin to shine. The water turns a clean gray-blue, light running through it. The scent changes to become fresh and metallic as well, like morning air on a mountaintop. The steam rises in straight lines rather than curls, as if they were disciplined. @@.noah;"Steady your breathing and then infuse it,"@@ Noah says, humming approvingly. @@.noah;"The Silverleaf responds best to calm, focused mana. Too much at once and you'll mess it up."@@ You nod, pressing your palms to the sides of your small cauldron. The warmth seeps into your skin almost instantly. You close your eyes and focus, channeling a slow current of mana into the liquid. The response is subtle, a soft shimmer that builds gradually until the entire surface of the tea glows faintly. @@.player;"So this is done?"@@ you ask. Amber shakes her head. @@.amber;"Not quite. Silverleaf's a neutral base. Think of it like the canvas, not the painting. You still need something to give it color. That's where fruit comes in."@@ You glance at the glowing bowls nearby. One has thin slices of oranges that gleam with faint golden runes. The other has plump cherries that are so dark they genuinely look like jewels. You tilt your head, hesitating as the mana still swirls gently in the tea. The orange smells bright and sharp, like sunlight cutting through clouds. On the other hand, the cherries smell deep and rich, almost like confidence. You drum your fingers on the table, caught between the two. <<elseif $d21tea1 is 2>>\ You study the glowing ingredients laid out before you, running your fingers above each one. Your eyes eventually fall on a small wooden bowl filled with pale, translucent buds. They look like little captured fragments of moonlight, each one shimmering with a gentle glow. You reach toward them. @@.daphne;"Ah, Moonblossom buds,"@@ Daphne says, noticing your interest. @@.daphne;"An elegant choice. They bloom only during lunar alignment, so they're a little rare."@@ @@.amber;"She's saying they're fancy and unpredictable,"@@ Amber assists. @@.daphne;"Unpredictability is the heart of intuition,"@@ Daphne says. @@.daphne;"Heraclitus once said that hidden harmony is stronger than the visible one. Moonblossom taps into that hidden rhythm. Intuition, mystery, dreams."@@ @@.boy;"So it's magic for your gut feelings?"@@ Milo asks. @@.aurora;"Let's just say it's got surprises,"@@ Aurora says. You grin a little. @@.player;"Well, I've had worse surprises lately."@@ Amber gestures toward your cauldron. @@.amber;"Then go for it, Prodigy. Just don't dump the whole bowl in, alright? A few buds will do."@@ You pinch a few delicate flowers between your fingers. They're cool to the touch and nearly weightless, as if you're holding fog. The second they hit the water, the surface ripples, then shifts to a faint blue with soft pearlescent streaks. The scent that rises is subtle and drifting, like something that's almost there but not quite. The steam twists into strange shapes that fade before you can name them. You catch glimpses: a feather, a wave, a crescent moon, and then nothing at all. @@.noah;"Good pour,"@@ Noah comments, his tone approving. @@.noah;"The Moonblossom prefers calm energy."@@ @@.player;"It looks alive,"@@ you say, fascinated by the liquid. @@.amber;"Well, in a way, it is,"@@ Amber says, smiling faintly. @@.amber;"Moonblossom responds to intent rather than power. The less you try to control it, the more it shows you."@@ Milo stares into his own pot, frowning in concentration. @@.boy;"So if I don't think about it, mine'll work better?!"@@ @@.aurora;"That's not quite how it works,"@@ Aurora says, sighing. @@.boy;"Maybe not for you,"@@ Milo says, grinning. @@.boy;"But I have the power of chaos and ADHD on my side."@@ Amber laughs under her breath, and even Aurora hides a small smile behind her cup. @@.daphne;"Beautiful color,"@@ Daphne comments, peering at your cauldron. @@.daphne;"There's a certain serenity to it, don't you think? As if it's reflecting your mind back at you."@@ You tilt your head, watching the light pulse in slow waves. @@.player;"So what's it supposed to do?"@@ @@.amber;"Right now?"@@ Amber says, resting her chin on her hand. @@.amber;"Not much. Moonblossom's a base ingredient. It opens doors, but it needs to something to anchor it. Otherwise, it's just mystery in liquid form."@@ @@.daphne;"Like a blank dream waiting to be shaped,"@@ Daphne adds softly. @@.noah;"The next ingredient gives it direction,"@@ Noah explains. @@.noah;"Fruit essence changes the emotional tone. Citrus brings light while berries, like cherry, brings depth."@@ You glance at the glowing bowls nearby. One has thin slices of oranges that gleam with faint golden runes. The other has plump cherries that are so dark they genuinely look like jewels. You tilt your head, hesitating as the mana still swirls gently in the tea. The orange smells bright and sharp, like sunlight cutting through clouds. On the other hand, the cherries smell deep and rich, almost like confidence. You drum your fingers on the table, caught between the two. <</if>>\ <<button "Add the orange slices" "Day 21 - 15">>\<<set $d21tea2 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D21_tea2" "Add the orange slices" "story">><</button>> <<button "Add the cherries" "Day 21 - 15">>\<<set $d21tea2 to false>>\<<trackChoice "D21_tea2" "Add the cherries" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d21tea1 is 0>>\ <<if $d21tea2 is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Tea1">>\ You reach for the bowl of orange slices. The moment your fingers brush one, a spark of warmth tingles up your arm. Each piece glows faintly from within, veins of soft gold tracing through the pulp like threads of sunlight. You drop a slice into the lavender mixture, and immediately the entire cauldron reacts. The gentle violet hue flashes bright, then begins to swirl in slow rings. The steam changes too, suddenly smelling sharper, sweeter, and tangier. @@.boy;"Oooh, that looks awesome!"@@ Milo says, leaning over toward you. @@.boy;"Mine just smells like something burning!"@@ @@.aurora;"That's because it //is// burning,"@@ Aurora deadpans. @@.boy;"...Oh."@@ The tea finishes its transformation. The surface finally settles into a luminous gradient between lavender and orange. Tiny flecks of light float just above it, blinking in and out of existence like tiny sparks. @@.amber;"You infused the orange while the mana was still active,"@@ Amber says. @@.amber;"That'll amplify the emotion in the base. Lavender for peace, orange for joy... Congratulations, Prodigy. You just made Euphoria Brew."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Euphoria Brew?"@@ @@.noah;"Don't worry, it's safe,"@@ Noah says, grinning. @@.noah;"Probably."@@ @@.amber;"Mostly,"@@ Amber says. You stare down at the glowing tea. @@.player;"...Mostly?"@@ Aurora waves a hand dismissively. @@.aurora;"It's fine. Drink it."@@ You pick up the cup carefully. It's pleasantly warm and the scent is bright enough to make you dizzy for a second. You take a slow sip. It hits instantly. At first it's just heat. Not painful or scalding, but ''radiant''. It's like a wave of sunlight breaking across your chest. Then comes the lightness. It's as if every worry, every ounce of tension in your shoulders, evaporates all at once. You blink, confused by the sudden warmth in your stomach. The tea glows faintly as you set the cup down. A small laugh slips out before you can stop it. @@.amber;"See?"@@ Amber says, tilting her head. @@.amber;"Works fast, huh?"@@ You cover your mouth, trying to stifle the giggle bubbling up, but it just keeps coming. It starts as a chuckle, then a laugh, then one that's so loud it catches everyone off guard. Milo immediately starts laughing too, though mostly because you are. @@.boy;"Wait, what's so funny?"@@ You gasp between laughs. @@.player;"I, I don't know! Nothing! It's just... everything. Everything's so funny!"@@ @@.aurora;"He's fine,"@@ Aurora states. @@.aurora;"This happens."@@ You double over slightly, clutching your stomach as tears prick your eyes. You're happy. Not the nervous laughter kind of happy, but pure bubbling joy that doesn't even need a reason. It's contagious. Amber hides a smile behind her cup. @@.amber;"You're glowing, Prodigy."@@ @@.daphne;"Fascinating,"@@ Daphne says, watching you curiously. @@.daphne;"I've been meaning to study this. A chemical reaction between mana and serotonin, perhaps? The concept of eudaimonia given liquid form."@@ You lean back in your chair, still giggling uncontrollably. @@.player;"That's the funniest thing I've ever heard. Euda, whatever, ha!"@@ Amber's shoulders shake with laughter she's pretending not to show. Noah just crosses his arms, grinning like someone who's seen this before. @@.noah;"Don't fight it, kid. Just let it run its course."@@ You're laughing so hard you have to wipe your eyes. The entire circle feels lighter, the weight of magic and danger and responsibility replaced by euphoria. @@.boy;"Okay, okay, what's even, what's so funny?!"@@ Milo asks, laughing harder than you. @@.boy;"I don't even get it!"@@ That just makes you laugh harder. @@.player;"Exactly! It's not even funny!"@@ He struggles to breathe from all the laughing. @@.boy;"That's the best part!"@@ Aurora sighs again, but her shoulders are shaking now too. @@.aurora;"You two are hopeless."@@ Even Daphne hides a quiet smile behind her teacup. The sound of your laughter fills the circle, bouncing off every surface. It's bright, carefree, and utterly unguarded. The kind of laughter you didn't know you still had in you. And then, slowly, the glow fades. Your pulse evens out. The giddiness settles into a quiet calm, leaving behind a pleasant buzz in your chest, like the aftertaste of sunlight. You exhale, wiping a tear from your cheek. @@.player;"...Alright,"@@ you say, voice soft. @@.player;"That was some ''really'' good tea."@@ @@.amber;"Told you,"@@ Amber gloats. Aurora crosses her arms, pretending she's not amused. @@.aurora;"Next time, we'll make you something less intense."@@ Milo fans his face dramatically. @@.boy;"No way! That was the best!"@@ You grin, cheeks still flushed. The warmth lingers even as the moment fades, not just from the tea, but from the people around you. The circle feels like exactly what its name suggests: a place of light. <<elseif $d21tea2 is false>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Tea2">>\ You reach for the bowl of cherries, each one gleaming dark red. They're almost black in the center, their glossy skins reflecting the light from the runes. When your fingers brush the fruit, warmth hums faintly through your fingertips. They're soft and warm, like someone's hand against your own. You pick one up carefully. The stem glows faintly at your touch and a thin pulse of magic runs through it. It's clear that it recognizes the mana already in your bloodstream. The scent is rich and sweet, and there's change the instant you drop the cherry in the cauldron. The lavender tea shifts from soft violet to a deep blush pink. The colors swirl together in a slow dance, silver and rose intertwining until the entire cauldron glows. The air fills with the faint scent of blossoms and sugar and something that feels heartbreakingly human. Memory, nostalgia, emotion made tangible. @@.amber;"Interesting pick,"@@ Amber says, smiling faintly. @@.amber;"Lavender and cherry, comfort and empathy. That's a bold blend."@@ @@.player;"Empathy?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. Daphne's voice floats in. @@.daphne;"Cherry essence resonates with the emotional field. It doesn't remind minds, but it does reflect feelings. The soul's resonance pattern."@@ Milo, meanwhile, is poking at his cauldron with a spoon that's actually a candy cane. @@.boy;"So what, it's like emotional radar? That's awesome!"@@ @@.aurora;"Or dangerous, depending on whose emotions you pick up,"@@ Aurora comments. @@.amber;"She's not wrong,"@@ Amber says, smirking. You hesitate, but the scent rising from your cup is too tempting to ignore. The liquid glows pink, rippling gently and reflecting your face in luminous fragments. You lift the cup carefully, the warmth brushing your palms. @@.amber;"Heartstring Tea,"@@ Amber says. @@.amber;"Be gentle with it, Prodigy."@@ You nod once, then take a slow sip. The taste is strange at first, being sweet, rich, and a little tart. The lavender's calm smooths out the sweetness, grounding it. You feel it spread through your chest and down your arms, like honey running through your veins. Then, slowly, something begins to shift. At first, you think it's your heartbeat, but it's something else. Something... layered. Gentle waves and faint ripples in your chest, as though your heart isn't beating alone anymore. @@.player;"Woah,"@@ you say, confused. Noah looks up from his own pot, amused. @@.noah;"You're feeling it, huh?"@@ @@.amber;"Told you,"@@ Amber states. @@.amber;"That blend opens the damn door."@@ And then, you feel it. Threads connecting to you one by one. The first thread hums high and bright, as it's jittery and electric. This has ''got'' to be Milo. The sensation hits like a can of Blue Bull, bubbling excitement that makes your skin tingle. You glance at him instinctively; both of his legs are bouncing, spoon still in hand, muttering something about @@.boy;"maximum sparkle ratio."@@ You can feel his energy coursing through the bond, just pure, unfocused, raw joy. It's so much that you find yourself laughing. Then, a new current joins in. Slower, smoother, and effortlessly cool. This is Amber. The shift startles you as her presence feels like stepping into a whole new world. She has this calm confidence that manages to be both sharp and comforting. Her emotions have a steady rhythm, like she's completely in control of her own current. There's amusement there, too, directed toward this situation. But it's in a kind way, not a mean-spirited way. You glance up, meeting her eyes across the table. She tilts her head slightly, clearly aware that you're feeling it. @@.amber;"Careful,"@@ she says softly. @@.amber;"You might start picking up things you don't want to."@@ @@.player;"Uhh, I think I can handle it,"@@ you say, laughing awkwardly. @@.amber;"That's what they all say,"@@ Amber says, grinning. The emotions don't stop there, continuing to weave around you. You can sense Noah's quiet patience, the calm hum of someone who finds joy in watching others thrive. Daphne's curiosity flickers at the edge of your senses, complex and shifting. They're coldly analytical, yet somehow also warm. You draw in a breath, overwhelmed but fascinated. It's not like hearing your thoughts, but more like standing in a shallow pool where all their emotions ripple together. They brush against you before pulling back again. And then, faintly, you feel something colder. It's Aurora. You glance across the table at her. She hasn't looked up from her own cauldron, but you can sense her through the haze. Her emotions aren't easy to read, like water beneath ice. You feel something pulsing under the surface: heavy and weighty. Guilt? Pressure? Fear? You lean forward, trying to focus. The bond between you sharpens and the color in your vision deepens. For a moment, you're sure you can almost touch it— —and then it's gone. The feeling in your chest dissipates in an instant, fading like a melody cut off mid-note. You blink and realized the link is severed. @@.player;"It's gone,"@@ you mutter, looking down into your cup. @@.amber;"That's normal,"@@ Amber says, chuckling softly. @@.amber;"Empathic brews don't last long. The body can only handle so much truth, after all."@@ Milo gasps. @@.boy;"You could feel everyone's emotions?! That's insane! What did I feel like? I bet I felt awesome."@@ @@.player;"Like drinking lightning,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"Yes!"@@ Milo exclaims, pumping a fist and looking far too proud. Aurora finally glances your way. @@.aurora;"And what did I feel like?"@@ You hesitate. There's a lingering chill in your chest where her emotions had brushed against yours, but you shake your head. @@.player;"Didn't get that far. The tea wore off."@@ For a second, you think she looks relieved. But it's gone before you can really be sure. Noah sets down his spoon, smiling warmly. @@.noah;"Well, you lasted longer than most. Usually, people get flooded right away."@@ @@.amber;"Yeah, you did good, Prodigy,"@@ Amber says, arms crossed. @@.amber;"Heartstring Tea's tricky. It gives you connection, but if you're not careful, it'll take more than it gives."@@ You exhale slowly, setting the cup down. Your chest still tingles faintly, the ghost of emotions lingering like fading echoes. It's a bit strange, really, being open like this. Feeling everyone's inner warmth, chaos, and calm. You glance around the table and see that they're all still working on their tea. Everything's the same, yet it feels so different. You realize that you don't just see them anymore. Because of that short glimpse into their minds, you feel them. Their warmth and their weight and their humanity. You lean back, a faint smile still on your face. For a moment, you almost miss that strange, fleeting feeling of closeness. But even when the magic fades, the insight remains. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d21tea1 is 1>>\ <<if $d21tea2 is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Tea3">>\ You hover your hand over the two bowls, one of cherries and one of oranges. The silver brew in your cauldron remains still, but the runes around the rim still pulse. You can still smell the clean metallic sharpness of Silverleaf. Your hand ends up drifting toward the orange slices. They seem to glow brighter the closer you get. They seem to glow brighter the closer you get, faint lines of light tracing along their edges. Each one smells warm and sweet like sunlight. You lift a slice between your fingers. It hums faintly, reacting to your mana, and for a moment you swear it's breathing with you. When you finally drop it into the cauldron, the effect is instant. The silver liquid flares bright gold, like molten metal catching fire. The color surges outward, deepening into an amber shot with ribbons of white light. The scent of citrus and fresh air fills the entire circle. @@.boy;"Woah,"@@ Milo says, eyes wide. @@.boy;"Did yours just explode with light?!"@@ @@.amber;"That's Radiant Clarity Brew,"@@ Amber explains, chuckling under her breath. @@.amber;"Or as I like to call it, Sun in a Cup. Not many people manage to get the color that vivid on their first try."@@ @@.daphne;"Silverleaf and orange is clarity transformed into motion,"@@ Daphne says thoughtfully. @@.daphne;"The mind sharpened by illumination. You can almost see the energy resonance."@@ You can feel it too. The air around your cauldron buzzes faintly and the runes pulse with golden light. @@.noah;"Go ahead, $name,"@@ Noah says, nodding approvingly. @@.noah;"You'll understand the nickname."@@ You lift the cup slowly and take a sip. The effect hits ''instantly''. At first, it's just a jolt of heat. A pulse that runs through your chest like you swallowed sunlight. Then it spreads. Your pule steadies before sharpening. You blink, and the world seems to snap into focus. Every color brightens, you can hear everything, and your sense of smell is heightened. It's like your mind has been cleared with a single breath. @@.player;"Woah,"@@ you say, laughing softly in amazement. @@.player;"It's like my brain just got rebooted."@@ @@.amber;"Feels good, doesn't it?"@@ Amber asks, grinning. @@.player;"It's like caffeine on steroids,"@@ you say, blinking rapidly. @@.boy;"WHAT?!"@@ Milo gasps, nearly knocking over his chair. @@.boy;"I wanna try that!"@@ @@.aurora;"No,"@@ Aurora deadpans. @@.boy;"Aw, come on! Just a sip! I'm sooo tired."@@ @@.aurora;"Milo,"@@ she says, her tone calm but absolute. @@.aurora;"No."@@ He slumps dramatically. @@.boy;"I ''hate'' democracy."@@ You can't stop grinning. It's been so long since you've felt this awake and alert and, hell, alive. Every thought feels razor-sharp, every sound crystal clear. The fatigue that you've never noticed has completely vanished. Even your heartbeat feels perfectly timed. @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I think I can see sound. This is insane."@@ Amber laughs. @@.amber;"Don't get used to it. It really doesn't last long. Probably a good thing, to be honest. Otherwise, I think half of us would be addicted."@@ @@.noah;"It's a focus brew,"@@ Noah chuckles. @@.noah;"It's for when you need a quick burst of energy, not for an all-nighter."@@ Everything. Feels. Possible. Milo starts begging. @@.boy;"Okay, $name, if you can make me one of those—"@@ @@.aurora;"Still no,"@@ Aurora interrupts without looking up. @@.boy;"You didn't even let me finish!"@@ @@.aurora;"Didn't have to."@@ Amber hides a smile behind her cup. @@.amber;"I'd listen to her, Milo. Sunlight's tricky stuff. Too much and it won't be too good."@@ You can't help but laugh, but it's more controlled now. The energy starts to mellow into a steady hum. The bright rush in your chest begins to fade. Then, as quickly as it came, the light begins to dim. Everything just fades, leaving behind the dull fog of normality. And suddenly you realize how tired you were before. It's not that you feel bad now, it's just that the contrast hits hard. Like stepping from bright sunlight into a shadow. You stare down at your empty cup and frown. @@.player;"I kind of want another one."@@ @@.amber;"Of course you do,"@@ Amber says, smirking. Noah chuckles, folding his arms. @@.noah;"One cup isn't meant to be addictive, but it seems to have hit especially hard for you."@@ @@.player;"I'm not getting addicted,"@@ you protest. @@.player;"It would just help me be more efficient."@@ @@.aurora;"Don't even think about it,"@@ Aurora says, meeting your eyes. Her voice is calm, but there's a faint glimmer of amusement behind it. @@.aurora;"The last thing I need is you chugging Radiant Clarity."@@ @@.player;"You say that like it's happened before,"@@ you say blinking. @@.aurora;"I haven't personally witnessed it,"@@ she says, stirring her own cauldron with slow precision. @@.aurora;"But let's just say it doesn't end elegantly."@@ Milo gasps. @@.boy;"Did someone explode?!"@@ Aurora doesn't answer. @@.amber;"That's a yes,"@@ Amber says, grinning. You laugh and shake your head. @@.player;"Alright, fine, no more magical sunlight. But that seriously was incredible."@@ @@.noah;"That's what Radiant Clarity's meant for,"@@ Noah says, nodding approvingly. @@.noah;"Bursts of focus here and there when you need them. The trick's knowing when to stop."@@ @@.amber;"And knowing that normal life's supposed to be a little blurry,"@@ Amber adds, crossing her arms with a grin. You smile faintly at that, your heartbeat finally returning to normal. You're calm again, and luckily you don't feel the need for another cup. @@.player;"I am glad I got to try that at least once,"@@ you murmur softly to yourself. <<elseif $d21tea2 is false>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Tea4">>\ You decide on the cherries. Their scent rises rich and heavy, the red skins shining in the light. You can feel the faint vibration of magic in each one as you lift a handful into your palm. The Silverleaf base in your cauldron, steady and expectant. You drop the cherries in. The color shift is instant. The cool silver deepens into a deep rose-gold that radiates gentle light. Each bubble that rises releases a bit of warmth. The smell is intoxicating, sweep like ripe fruit and clean like rain. Noah watches you work, nodding approvingly. @@.noah;"Good choice,"@@ he says softly. @@.noah;"Silverleaf and cherry is a good combination."@@ @@.amber;"That combination is called Valor's Bloom,"@@ Amber says, grinning. @@.amber;"It helps steady your nerves and gives you courage."@@ @@.daphne;"Well, that's //usually// the case,"@@ Daphne adds, stirring her own brew. @@.daphne;"The ancients warned that courage untempered by reflection can turn to folly, though. Aristotle wrote that bravery lies between cowardice and rashness."@@ @@.boy;"So basically don't drink too much?"@@ Milo asks, tilting his head. Aurora hums faintly. @@.aurora;"That's one interpretation."@@ @@.player;"Guess I'll figure out which one applies to me,"@@ you say, smiling faintly and raising the steaming cup. The first sip is soft. The taste slowly blooms on your tongue, bright cherry sweet. The warmth spreads through your chest like a steadying hand on your back, your heartbeat evening out. The edges of your anxiety start to fade, thoughts clearing, and for the first time in a while your shoulders relax completely. You sit up straighter. The world feel solid and manageable. Not overwhelming and possible like it often is. @@.boy;"Woah, $name, you look different,"@@ Milo says, noticing immediately. @@.boy;"Like taller or something."@@ @@.amber;"He's holding himself like he believes in himself,"@@ Amber explains, chuckling. @@.amber;"That's the Valor kicking in."@@ You grin, leaning back with a confidence that surprises even you. @@.player;"Yeah, I think you're right. I feel good. I'm pretty sure I could walk into a test, ace it, then charm the teacher into canceling homework."@@ @@.aurora;"Maybe don't start with that,"@@ Aurora mutters, arching a brow. You laugh, but the warmth keeps building. It's pleasant, really pleasant, that is until you notice the edges getting a little too sharp. The calm determination starts turning into boldness, and boldness into something that could be called reckless. You glance at Daphne. @@.player;"So, if bravery's a virtue, what's your biggest fear, then? Loneliness? Death? Failure?"@@ @@.daphne;"My biggest fear?"@@ Daphne asks, clearly startled. @@.daphne;"Oh dear, that's quite forward of you, $name."@@ Before you can backpedal, you turn to Noah. @@.player;"And you, bear man, be honest. How do you keep that calm all the time? What have you seen in the past for this to not affect you in the slightest."@@ Noah laughs quietly. @@.noah;"Age and tea. Lots of tea."@@ @@.player;"And what about you, oh wise one?"@@ you ask Amber. @@.player;"What's your secret? You ever get scared?"@@ @@.amber;"I'm constantly scared,"@@ Amber says, clearly amused. @@.amber;"That's why I act so cool. Fake it 'til you make it."@@ Everyone chuckles, but you're on a roll now. Way too confident, way too talkative. @@.player;"And Aurora, what about you? Miss Stoic Circle Leader, what makes you nervous?"@@ The table goes still for half a second. Aurora looks up, eyes calm but glinting with quiet amusement. For a heartbeat you think you've pushed too far, but then her lips curve into the faintest smirk. @@.aurora;"You right now,"@@ she says smoothly. @@.aurora;"You're making me very nervous."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, courage starting to fade and self-awareness starting to bloom. @@.aurora;"Watching you dig your own grave with every sentence is quite nervewracking,"@@ she adds. @@.aurora;"Quite impressive as well, really."@@ Milo bursts out laughing hard. @@.boy;"Oh my God, Aurora roasted you!"@@ @@.player;"Okay, yeah, maybe I'm too brave now,"@@ you groan. Amber pats your shoulder sympathetically. @@.amber;"It happens to everyone, Prodigy. Valor's Bloom makes you too honest until you get used to it."@@ @@.noah;"That's the tea's edge,"@@ Noah says, smiling. @@.noah;"Gives you courage but not discretion."@@ You sigh, setting the cup down. @@.player;"Lesson learned."@@ @@.aurora;"A valuable takeaway,"@@ Aurora says, giving a satisfied nod. @@.aurora;"Next time, you can channel the bravery into something productive."@@ @@.boy;"Like asking for a raise!"@@ Milo exclaims. @@.aurora;"Milo, you don't //get// paid,"@@ Aurora says. @@.boy;"Oh,"@@ Milo says, slumping. @@.boy;"Right."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I'm not drinking that one again before conversations,"@@ you say awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.aurora;"A wise decision,"@@ Aurora comments, smirking. You groan, but you're laughing too, cheeks warm. Valor's Bloom really does live up to its name. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d21tea1 is 2>>\ <<if $d21tea2 is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Tea5">>\ You look down at the two bowls. Rich cherries glimmer like drops of wine and the bright oranges glow faintly with light that seems almost alive. You end up reaching for the orange slices and breathe in the sweet scent. @@.amber;"Going for warmth, huh?"@@ Amber says. @@.amber;"That's an interesting choice. Moonblossom and orange mix in an interesting way."@@ Noah nods approvingly. @@.noah;"Dreamspark Tea. It's a gentle brew and good for lifting the spirit. It used to be given to apprentices after their first casting trials."@@ @@.daphne;"Mages of the past described it as not being practical, but being profoundly human,"@@ Daphne comments, smiling faintly. @@.aurora;"Just don't expect it to do anything serious,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"It's mostly for fun."@@ @@.player;"I could use fun,"@@ you respond, grinning. The orange slices glow brighter as you drop them into the pale-blue tea. The liquid ripples once, then bursts into life. Tiny sparks of color flare around the surface. Blues, pinks, greens, and golds twist and shimmer like fireflies in water. Amber watches with quiet pride. @@.amber;"There it is. Dreamspark."@@ You swirl your spoon once before gently taking a sip. The taste is unlike anything you've had before. It starts cool and sweet before warming into something bright. It bubbles against your tongue like laughter you haven't had in a while. The moment you swallow, you feel a gentle rush of air behind you. The room lights up. A dozen tiny motes of color flicker into being, hovering around you in a loose orbit. They glow like pastel fireflies, each a different hue. They drift lazily in the air, spinning slow loops before settling near your shoulders. @@.boy;"Oh my God,"@@ Milo says, jaw dropping. @@.boy;"They're floating! You've got, like, rainbow bugs."@@ @@.player;"They're not bugs,"@@ you laugh. @@.player;"At least, I don't think they are."@@ Milo immediately reaches out to grab one. The red mote darts away at the last second, zipping past his fingers with a faint //tink//. @@.boy;"Hey, get back here!"@@ He tries again, both hands this time. The motes scatter, evading him easily, then drift right back toward you, hovering just out of his reach. @@.boy;"Okay, now they're mocking me."@@ @@.amber;"They only like their creator,"@@ Amber says, chuckling. @@.amber;"Happens every time."@@ @@.noah;"You'll tire yourself out before they do, Milo,"@@ Noah says, laughing. @@.boy;"They're playing favorites,"@@ Milo says, pouting. You lift your hand slightly, and one of the motes drifts closer, hovering just above your palm. Its color shifts from rose gold to soft blue, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat. @@.player;"This is incredible,"@@ you murmur. The moment you take a step, the motes move too. They flow around you like a gentle trail of stars. You experiment, standing up and walking slowly in a circle. The lights follow, orbiting in playful patterns. They occasionally cross paths to form little spirals before returning to hover near your shoulders again. Aurora smiles. @@.aurora;"You look like you walked out of a children's storybook."@@ @@.amber;"You're real whimsical right now, $name,"@@ Amber adds. @@.boy;"This is so unfair,"@@ Milo mutters under his breath. You spin once, watching the motes shimmer. @@.player;"It's so weird... it's like they know what I'm thinking."@@ @@.daphne;"They do, actually,"@@ Daphne says, tone soft and reflective. @@.daphne;"Dreamspark magic resonates with mood. The brighter the feeling, the stronger the light."@@ @@.player;"So they glow when I'm happy?"@@ you ask. @@.daphne;"Yup!"@@ That makes you smile without meaning to. The lights instantly flare brighter, golden threads swirling around your hands before fading into a pastel mist. The others laugh softly as everyone is bathed in soft light. That is, until the colors begin to fade. The motes dim one by one, flickering out like candles, until only faint sparkles remain. @@.player;"Aw,"@@ you say, exhaling softly. @@.player;"That was amazing while it lasted."@@ @@.amber;"That's the nature of wonder, Prodigy,"@@ Amber says, smiling knowingly. @@.amber;"It's fleeting."@@ @@.player;"There's no way to make it permanent?"@@ you ask, turning the cup in your hands. Aurora answers before anyone else can. @@.aurora;"No. Dreamspark isn't meant to last. It's a reflection of feeling, not a spell. Trying to keep it would ruin it."@@ You frown. @@.player;"So it's just temporary?"@@ @@.aurora;"Exactly,"@@ Aurora says with a playful smile. @@.aurora;"Like fireworks. Enjoy it, don't cage it."@@ @@.boy;"That's so unfair!"@@ Milo groans dramatically. @@.boy;"I want light-bugs that follow //me// around all the time!"@@ @@.amber;"You'd turn it into a disco in five minutes,"@@ Amber says. @@.boy;"I would not!"@@ Aurora raises an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"Milo."@@ @@.boy;"...Okay, maybe I would a little,"@@ he admits. The motes may be gone, but that glow stays with you. <<elseif $d21tea2 is false>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Tea6">>\ You decide on the cherries. They glimmer in the soft blue light like tiny beating hearts. You hold the cherry over the cauldron for a moment, then drop it in. The pale blue darkens into a rich crimson, streaked with threads of rose-gold that drift lazily through the liquid. The scent changes to become sweeter and warmer, like fruit and memory and faint perfume. Amber glances up from her seat, watching the colors shift. @@.amber;"Oh that is a ''beautiful'' combination. Moonblossom and cherry is where mystery meets heart. That's Reverie Infusion. Not easy to get right, let me tell you."@@ @@.noah;"It's a nostalgic brew,"@@ Noah adds, nodding thoughtfully. @@.noah;"Lets you hear echoes of what matters most. It won't show you anything new, just remind you of what's already there."@@ Daphne smiles faintly as she stirs her own tea. @@.daphne;"The mages before us called it 'the voice of contentment.' In Plato's theory of Anamnesis, he claimed memory was the soul recalling truth. This tea lets you listen to your own truth for a while."@@ @@.aurora;"It's harmless if brewed right,"@@ Aurora says, leaning back slightly. @@.aurora;"Just don't get lost in it."@@ @@.player;"I'll keep that in mind,"@@ you say. The glow in your cup pulses invitingly. You lift it carefully, the warmth spreading into your palms, and take a sip. The flavor starts cool, like the taste of midnight air, but deepens into something sweeter. Ripened fruit and faint comfort. The warmth curls gently through your chest. The world around you softens. At first, you think it's just your imagination. The sound of the rain outside of the circle fades into something rhythmic. The glow of your cauldron in front of you is dimmer yet not darker. Just... more intimate. Then you hear a faint laugh. You blink, looking up, but the others are still focused on their teas. The sound isn't from them, it's around you. Soft and far away like an echo carried on the wind. Another voice joins it, warm and familiar. Your mom's voice, saying something you can't quite make out. The sound of her gentle humming is enough. The sound shifts again. Someone's yelling your name, but it's out of excitement rather than anger. You turn, and in your mind's eye, There's Luke. He's barefoot, his ginger hair a complete mess. He's younger here, maybe eleven, waving wildly from the edge of a playground. @@.luke;"Come on, slowpoke!"@@ his voice echos faintly through the warm haze. Then, Samantha's dry and teasing voice joins in. @@.samantha;"$name's not slow, he's just dramatic."@@ Her sarcasm is fond, the kind that makes you laugh. You start chuckling quietly to yourself without realizing it. The images blur and shift again. You see your dad crouched by a campfire, sparks flickering in the darkness, his voice low and steady as he tells you how to tell north by the stars. He smiles when he notices you watching too intently, tossing a marshmallow your way with a smile. And behind that is Lily's laugh. Sharp, bright, and a little too loud. You see her chasing after the camp Border Collie, the dog's tail wagging furiously as she yells, @@.lily;"Give it back, you little thief!"@@ The world feels soft with all the memories wrapping around you. You don't feel sad. Not really. It's not that kind of nostalgia, where you long for better times. It's the ache of remembering something good and realizing it's still part of you. Amber's voice drifts faintly through the haze. @@.amber;"Looks like it's working."@@ You blink and glance up, everything rushing back at you. @@.boy;"What's it like?"@@ Milo asks softly. You smile. @@.player;"It's like remembering a perfect day you forgot ever happened."@@ Daphne hums quietly. @@.daphne;"That's beautifully put."@@ @@.noah;"Sounds like a strong brew,"@@ Noah comments, chuckling. The air hums again, and you hear one last echo. It's your mom's voice, saying something simple: @@.girl;"I'm proud of you, sweetheart."@@ The warmth that fills you then is so strong you have to close your eyes. And then it all fades. The voice softens, the laughter recedes, and when you open your eyes again, you're back in the circle. You let out a long breath that you didn't even realize you were holding. @@.boy;"It's gone?"@@ Milo asks. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"But I don't mind. It felt nice."@@ Amber gives an approving nod. @@.amber;"That's how Reverie Infusion works. It reminds you of who you are underneath everything else."@@ Aurora glances up from her own tea. @@.aurora;"And it's temporary for a reason. If you lived in nostalgia forever, you'd never move forward."@@ @@.daphne;"Even the ancients warned of it. Sweetness becomes longing if you hold it too long."@@ @@.player;"Still,"@@ you murmur quietly, @@.player;"it was good to hear their voices again."@@ @@.amber;"That's the point, $name. It doesn't bring the past back, it just reminds you it's still part of you."@@ @@.noah;"The best magic doesn't change who we are, after all,"@@ Noah says. @@.noah;"It just helps us remember what matters."@@ It might have been a fleeting spell, but the warmth it left behind feels real enough to keep. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Magic tea" "Day 21 - 16">><</button>>

The warm hum of the Lumin Circle fills the clearing as everyone finishes their brews. The soft glow from each cauldron paints the scene in overlapping shades of color, blending into a haze of magic. Rain still patters on the invisible barrier overhead, but inside the circle, everything is cozy and contained. Amber stretches her arms above her head with a content sigh, her fox familiar flicking its tail lazily at her feet. @@.amber;"Now //that's// the kind of afternoon I could get used to,"@@ she says. @@.amber;"No explosions or broken wands or Aurora lecture. Just good brews and better company."@@ @@.boy;"I can still make something explode if it'll make you feel more at home!"@@ Milo says. @@.aurora;"No,"@@ Aurora says. @@.boy;"You didn't even let me finish!"@@ Milo comments, pouting. @@.aurora;"Didn't need to."@@ That earns a snort of laughter from Amber and Daphne. The tension that seemed to always hang around Aurora has softened. Her posture's relaxed, her hair slightly messy, and her voice lighter than usual. She doesn't look like the mysterious mage anymore. She looks... normal. @@.aurora;"Well, $name,"@@ Aurora says, glancing your way. She has a suspicious glimmer of humor in her eyes. @@.aurora;"Everyone's done with their tea. Which means..."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.aurora;"Now it's your turn."@@ @@.player;"My turn for what?"@@ Her smirk widens further, a teasing lilt sneaking into her tone. @@.aurora;"To try one of ours."@@ You stare at her, incredulous. @@.player;"Me?"@@ @@.aurora;"Yeah,"@@ she says simply, setting her cup down and leaning her chin into her hand. @@.aurora;"You're part of the Circle now, aren't you? Consider it a field test."@@ @@.amber;"Oh, this'll be fun,"@@ Amber says, grinning. @@.amber;"Nothing like a little blind sampling to build trust."@@ Daphne looks up from her notes. @@.daphne;"An interesting sociological exercise, really. How one chooses what to taste often reveals more about the self than the flavor."@@ Milo bounces in his seat before she can even finish. @@.boy;"Drink mine! Drink mine! It's //so// good! It tastes like happiness and parties!"@@ You glance toward his cauldron and immediately hesitate. Milo's "tea" is fizzing wildly, bubbling over in pastel foam that changes color every few seconds. Pink, green, blue, then suddenly red. Every time he laughs, it seems to fizz harder, and little sparkles shoot into the air. @@.player;"That doesn't look safe,"@@ you comment. @@.boy;"It's delicious!"@@ Milo insists. @@.boy;"Probably, at least."@@ Amber snickers. @@.amber;"Keyword: probably."@@ Noah, seated calmly, stirs his tea with a wooden spoon. The steam rising from his cup is thick and golden, curling upward in the shape of glowing runes that flicker briefly before vanishing. His tea smells comforting, like spiced honey and home. Next to him, Daphne's cup is tranquil, a pale violet liquid that's ''very'' still. Patterns ripple faintly across the surface, forming symbols, constellations, and faces. Her brew smells faintly floral and strange. She lifts the cup up, and Mnemosyne drinks a few drops. Amber's tea glows bright amber (duh) in her hands, tiny flecks of light drifting lazily above it before winking out. It gives off the faint scent of cinnamon and sugar. Aurora's cup, on the other hand, is nearly opaque. It's a deep blue that reflects faint stars even though the sky above is gray. Every time she exhales near it, the surface ripples. You look around the circle. Every tea feels like an extension of its brewer. Each one hums with their unique mana, their personality woven into color and scent. @@.player;"...Do I //have// to?"@@ you ask. Aurora's lips twitch. @@.aurora;"Afraid of commitment already?"@@ Your mouth opens, then closes. @@.player;"No, I just don't know if I should be drinking it."@@ Milo thrusts his bubbling cup toward you with a bright grin. @@.boy;"Drink mine!"@@ A spray of fizz leaps out of his mug as he talks, scattering into glittering motes that pop like tiny fireworks. One lands in your hair and immediately vanishes in a puff of pink smoke that smells vaguely like candy. @@.amber;"You should try Milo's tea,"@@ Amber says, trying not to laugh. Aurora tilts her head. @@.aurora;"See how excited he is, $name? Might as well start somewhere."@@ @@.player;"You're really making me do this, huh?"@@ you ask, glancing between them all. Amber raises her cup. @@.amber;"Circle tradition."@@ @@.noah;"Sounds like hazing to me,"@@ Noah corrects, chuckling softly. @@.daphne;"The philosopher in me believes it's a test of trust,"@@ Daphne says, smirking faintly. @@.daphne;"The realist in me believes it's entertainment."@@ @@.aurora;"Pick your poison, $name,"@@ Aurora says, a smirk on her face. <<button "Try Milo's Tea" "Day 21 - 17">>\<<set $d21whostea to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D21_whostea" "Try Milo's Tea" "story">><</button>> <<button "Try Amber's Tea" "Day 21 - 17">>\<<set $d21whostea to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D21_whostea" "Try Amber's Tea" "story">><</button>> <<button "Try Noah's Tea" "Day 21 - 17">>\<<set $d21whostea to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D21_whostea" "Try Noah's Tea" "story">><</button>> <<button "Try Daphne's Tea" "Day 21 - 17">>\<<set $d21whostea to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D21_whostea" "Try Daphne's Tea" "story">><</button>> <<button "Try Aurora's Tea" "Day 21 - 17">>\<<set $d21whostea to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D21_whostea" "Try Aurora's Tea" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d21whostea is 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21OtherTea1">>\ Milo's "tea" fizzes like a bottled storm. Iridescent bubbles burst in every color of the damn rainbow, faint crackles of magic sparkling at the rim of his cup. It's less of a beverage and more a chaotic light show pretending to be drinkable. Every few seconds, a bubble escapes and pops midair, releasing a tiny puff of glitter that smells faintly like sugar, lighting, and bubblegum. @@.boy;"So, what do you think?"@@ Milo asks, beaming. @@.boy;"Pretty cool, right?"@@ @@.player;"Is it supposed to make that noise?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"Uh, yeah!"@@ Milo says, squinting at the cup as another crackle sounds. @@.boy;"That's, uh, intentional."@@ Amber leans over to Aurora, smirking. @@.amber;"Have you ever seen a brew like that before?"@@ Aurora's eyes narrow slightly, but it's not in annoyance. She's simply perplexed. The stars reflected in her tea flicker faintly as she stares at Milo's concoction. @@.aurora;"No. And I don't know if I should be impressed or concerned. Most tea recipes have existed for hundreds or even thousands of years. This one looks like it's trying to rewrite physics."@@ @@.boy;"Aw, come on,"@@ Milo says, puffing up proudly. @@.boy;"That's a compliment, right?"@@ Aurora sighs but her mouth twitches like she's holding back a smile. @@.aurora;"Let's call it innovative."@@ Daphne sets down her own cup delicately, peering at the fizzling liquid. @@.daphne;"A spontaneous creation born of joy and chaos. Nietzche would've called that 'the Dionysian Impulse.' I call it brave."@@ @@.noah;"Brave is certainly one word for it,"@@ Noah says, chuckling. Milo points at his cup dramatically. @@.boy;"Well, if no one else has ever made it, then I'm naming it. It's called, uh, Sparksun Soda!"@@ Amber laughs. @@.amber;"Of course it is."@@ @@.player;"Soda?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.boy;"Yeah! It's like tea but fun,"@@ Milo says proudly. @@.boy;"And it's not dangerous. Probably."@@ Aurora's smirk returns. @@.aurora;"You keep trying to convince us it's not dangerous. Don't you think that's a little suspicious?"@@ @@.boy;"Details, details!"@@ Milo says, waving her off. @@.boy;"Come on, $name, try it! You're gonna love it."@@ You sigh, staring down at the chaos, then lift the cup he offered you to your lips. The moment the liquid touches your tongue, it explodes. Not literally, but it feels like it. The taste is an impossible mix of every sweet flavor you've ever loved. Strawberry candy, orange soda, honey, sunlight. Your whole mouth fizzes, your teeth vibrate, and your brain feels like it's doing cartwheels. The world lights up around you, every sound sharpening, every color blooming brighter. Your pulse skyrockets and your mana flares so hard you can see tiny sparks dancing along your arms. You slam the cup down, eyes wide. @@.player;"Oh. My. God."@@ Milo leans forward eagerly. @@.boy;"Right?! Isn't it great?!"@@ @@.player;"It's like I just drank joy!"@@ @@.boy;"You did!"@@ Milo yells, bouncing on his toes. @@.boy;"That's the whole point!"@@ You laugh hard. Maybe a little //too// hard. You don't even know what's funny, but everything suddenly is. The room feels bigger, your limbs feel lighter, and your thoughts are racing like fireworks in your skull. You grab Milo's shoulders. @@.player;"Milo, we have to—"@@ @@.boy;"Run laps around the table?"@@ he interrupts. @@.player;"YES!"@@ The two of you, plus Nimbus, bolt around the Lumin Circle in chaotic unison, giggling like you've just discovered a new element. Aurora sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. @@.aurora;"This is my life now. Two Milos."@@ Amber's doubled over, laughing. @@.amber;"Oh, let them! When was the last time we saw you smile during a meeting, Aurora?"@@ @@.daphne;"This must be what unfiltered serotonin looks like,"@@ Daphne says, scribbling something in her notebook. Noah leans back, sipping his own tea calmly. @@.noah;"I give it thirty seconds before they crash."@@ You and Milo finish your second lap, both panting but grinning wildly. He's covered in glitter (you don't know where it's from), and your hair is sticking up from static. Motes of Sparkspun hover faintly around you, casting prismatic reflections on the wet grass. @@.player;"This is amazing!"@@ you shout out. @@.player;"I feel like I could—"@@ @@.boy;"Punch a thunderstorm?"@@ Milo interrupts again. @@.player;"YES! Exactly!"@@ He slaps your hand for a high-five, and the impact actually sends a small spark of magic through the air with a tiny //pop!// Both of you gasp like it's the coolest thing in the world. @@.aurora;"I can't tell if I'm impressed or concerned,"@@ Aurora states. Amber smirks. @@.amber;"Why not both?"@@ Daphne hums. @@.daphne;"If laughter could be distilled into matter, that's what we're witnessing."@@ @@.noah;"I'd say the boy's succeeded in bottling happiness,"@@ Noah says, chuckling. @@.noah;"Let's just hope it wears off soon."@@ You and Milo keep laughing until, slowly, the rush begins to fade. The colors dim a little, the fizz in your bloodstream softens, and you can actually hear your heartbeat again. The world stops vibrating. You collapse onto your "chair," which is actually a log, clutching your stomach in laughter. Milo falls next to you, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. Then silence. The two of you just sit there, breathing heavily, the last sparks flickering out. @@.player;"...Wow,"@@ you say finally. @@.player;"I just got insight into what it's like to be you."@@ Milo grins, wiping his forehead. @@.boy;"Pretty great, huh?"@@ @@.player;"I don't know how you survive this every day."@@ Aurora tries to look unimpressed, but you can see the corners of her mouth twitch. @@.aurora;"Don't ever drink that again,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"One Milo is plenty."@@ @@.boy;"Hey!"@@ Milo protests. Amber wipes a tear from her eye. @@.amber;"Aurora's right, kid. The world's not ready for two of you."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I think my heart's still catching up,"@@ you say, sighing dramatically. @@.noah;"You handled it better than I expected,"@@ Noah says, giving an approving nod. @@.noah;"Most people would be vibrating into the stratosphere."@@ Daphne looks contemplative. @@.daphne;"It's fascinating, really. A pure emotional stimulant."@@ @@.aurora;"I'm just glad it didn't explode,"@@ Aurora says, chuckling softly under her breath. You grin, still feeling a faint buzz in your fingertips. @@.player;"Yeah, but if we did, at least we'd go out happy."@@ @@.boy;"Sparkspun Soda's gonna change the world!"@@ Milo beams. His goat bleats in agreement. <<elseif $d21whostea is 1>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21OtherTea2">>\ Amber's tea glows warmly in her hands, a soft amber light flickering through the steam. Tiny embers rise from the surface and vanish before they reach the air, like fireflies giving up their light mid-flight. The smell alone is amazing: Cinnamon, roasted honey, and herbs. @@.amber;"Emberleaf Chai,"@@ Amber says when she catches you looking. @@.amber;"My personal favorite. It's for courage and for anyone who forgets how warm they can be."@@ @@.player;"Are there any side effects?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. Amber laughs. @@.amber;"Side effect: confidence. Terrifying, I know."@@ You take the cup she offers. The porcelain feels warm, and after one cautious sip, the heat moves through you like a sunrise. It starts at your throat, rolls around your chest, and blooms behind your ribs until your whole body hums with steady fire. @@.player;"Woah,"@@ you say, blinking. @@.player;"This is ''really'' good."@@ @@.amber;"Right?"@@ Amber says, leaning back proudly. @@.amber;"That's the magic of spice and soul."@@ The warmth keeps spreading until you can't stop smiling. A buzz runs through your mana and suddenly everything feels possible. Existing feels easier. That's when you notice Sol, Amber's fox familiar, lounging by her feet. He yawns, and a tiny puff of smoke curls from his muzzle. @@.player;"He's so cute,"@@ you say, pointing at the fox. Amber chuckles. @@.amber;"He knows it."@@ @@.player;"Can I pet him?"@@ you ask. @@.amber;"If he lets you,"@@ Amber says, smirking. That's all the invitation you need. You crouch down beside Sol, who watches you with bright curiosity, his tail flicking lazily. You hold out your hand, expecting him to sniff it first. But instead, he steps forward and butts his head into your palm with a soft //whuff//. He's warm, like air near a campfire. @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you breathe. @@.player;"He's like a little heater."@@ @@.amber;"Mhm,"@@ Amber says, swirling her tea. @@.amber;"A living, breathing comfort fox."@@ The next minute blurs into pure joy. Sol circles around you, his fur glowing faintly as he moves, leaving behind faint sparks and motes of orange light. You scratch behind his ears, and he leans into your hand with a rumbling purr that sounds suspiciously like a crackling fireplace. Then, emboldened by the Emberleaf, you start playing with him for real. Rolling onto the grass, laughing as he darts around you in quick, playful bursts. He darts forward, tail flashing, and you chase him around. Every time you catch him, he wriggles free, his paws leaving tiny glowing prints on the ground that fade after a heartbeat. @@.boy;"Go, $name!"@@ Milo cheers from the sidelines. @@.boy;"Conquer the fire fox!"@@ @@.aurora;"I'm not sure this is going to end well,"@@ Aurora comments, folding her arms. Daphne watches with fascination. @@.daphne;"Remarkable. Familiars rarely allow this level of contact with anyone other than their summoner. It's almost... philosophical."@@ @@.noah;"They're just having fun,"@@ Noah says, laughing warmly. @@.noah;"Let them."@@ Sol leaps over your legs, tail brushing against your arm, and suddenly you're both tumbling in a pile of leaves and laughter. You don't even realize you're laughing out loud until the others join in. Amber's grinning ear to ear. @@.amber;"Careful, Prodigy. I don't want you taking my fox."@@ Sol flops dramatically onto his slide, tongue lolling out, eyes half-closed in contentment. You scratch his belly without thinking, and he rolls onto his back with a blissful sigh. @@.player;"Okay, yeah,"@@ you say between laughs. @@.player;"I think I love him."@@ @@.amber;"Join the club,"@@ Amber says. @@.amber;"He's got that kinda effect on people."@@ But slowly, the rush begins to fade. The magic that had filled your veins ebbs away, settling back into your chest. Your laughter quiets and the air cools again. You sit up, catching your breath, and realize that you're covered in fur. Brown and gold and red bits stick to you, a few even tangled in your hair. Hell, one somehow made its way onto your cheek. @@.amber;"You look like the forest decided to adopt you,"@@ Amber says, laughing. @@.player;"Worth it,"@@ you say, brushing off all the debris. Sol hops up, circling you once before sitting neatly beside you, tail curling around his paw. He tilts his head and lets out a quiet yet affectionate yip. You smile, reaching out to ruffle his fur one last time. @@.player;"You're amazing, you know that?"@@ He gives a soft //whuff// in reply, sparks glimmering along his ears. @@.amber;"He likes you,"@@ Amber comments. @@.amber;"You must've passed the vibe check."@@ Aurora shakes her head. @@.aurora;"You're easily entertained, $name."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, well,"@@ you say, brushing another leaf from your shoulder, @@.player;"your tea made me wrestle a fox, so that's on you guys."@@ That earns a round of laughter, with even Aurora chuckling quietly. Sol curls back beside Amber's legs, eyes half-closed, glowing faintly in the dim light. @@.player;"Emberleaf Chai gets five stars,"@@ you say, sitting down. @@.player;"Would drink again."@@ @@.amber;"Anytime, Prodigy,"@@ Amber says. @@.amber;"The world always needs a little more fire."@@ <<elseif $d21whostea is 2>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21OtherTea3">>\ Noah's tea has faint, glowing runes on its rippling surface. They form words like "rest", "warmth," and "breathe" before dissolving. The scent that fills the air is rich and deep, like honey, roasted chestnuts, and something woodsy. Noah ladles some of his tea into a sturdy ceramic cup that looks home-made. It's slightly chipped and has clearly been used lovingly through many years. He makes it float toward you with a soft smile. @@.noah;"Hearthbrew,"@@ he says. @@.noah;"Drink slow. It's not meant to wake you up."@@ You take the cup carefully, wrapping both hands around it. It's heavy and warm, like holding a sun-warmed stone. The scent alone makes your shoulders loosen. @@.amber;"Careful, Prodigy,"@@ Amber says, smirking across the table. @@.amber;"That one hits harder than it looks."@@ Milo's already leaning forward, chin in his hands. @@.boy;"He's gonna fall asleep mid-sip, isn't he?"@@ @@.aurora;"Possibly,"@@ Aurora says with a sigh. You bring the cup to your lips and take a slow sip. The flavor is just... //comfort//. Sweet, like toasted grain and butter. It coats your tongue like warm honey, sliding down your throat. The effect is immediate. Heat floods your chest and everything seems to soften. Your body feels heavier, yes, but in the best possible way. It's like a weighted blanket just wrapped around you. @@.player;"...Oh,"@@ you exhale. @@.player;"Oh, wow."@@ Noah chuckles. @@.noah;"Yeah. That's usually the reaction."@@ You take another sip, and your eyelids droop. The fatigue that's been sitting deep in your bones finally unravels. Your muscles loosen, your mind stops buzzing,. your thoughts slow down. @@.boy;"He's melting,"@@ Milo whispers. @@.amber;"That's the point,"@@ Amber says, laughing softly. You rest your head on your hand without realizing it. It feels like lying under thick blankets in a cold room. Like someone's tucked you in. Like you're... safe. Your head dips. You blink lazily, desperately trying to fight it, but every breath you take feels heavier. @@.player;"I feel like I'm in a bed,"@@ you mumble, half-asleep. @@.player;"This is dangerous..."@@ @@.aurora;"Then stop fighting it,"@@ Aurora answers softly. You let out a dozy laugh. @@.player;"You're... very persuasive right now."@@ Somewhere in the background, a soft shuffle catches your attention. Noah's familiar has lumbered closer to the group. She sits behind Noah and yawns wide. It's as if she's just as tired as you. Ursa curls up and rests her chin on her big bear paws. She watches you lazily, blinking slowly. @@.noah;"That's my girl,"@@ Noah says, stroking her head absently. @@.noah;"She likes the quiet."@@ Ursa huffs, sending a warm puff of air toward you. It smells faintly like honey and herbs. @@.player;"Even the bear smells cozy,"@@ you murmur, giggling sleepily. Amber laughs. @@.amber;"Yup. Hearthbrew does that."@@ @@.daphne;"True serenity rarely asks for permission,"@@ Daphne says. You yawn in reply. Your words slur slightly as you continue, @@.player;"Might... need to lie down... sleep..."@@ Noah's voice is soft. @@.noah;"Don't worry. It fades on its own. Just breathe."@@ And you do. For a minute, or maybe several, you drift. You're not quite asleep, but not awake either. Time stretches and you feel like you could sleep for a thousand years and wake up without a single worry. It's just peaceful. Then, slowly, the warmth begins to retreat. The heaviness lifts, replaced by something light and clear. You blink a few times before sitting back up again as the fog melts away. The cup in your hands is cool to the touch now, without a drop of tea inside. You feel... amazing. Like you just woke from the best nap of your life. @@.noah;"Welcome back,"@@ Noah says gently, his tone amused. @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, rubbing your eyes. @@.player;"That was ''amazing''."@@ Aurora hides a small laugh behind her hand. @@.aurora;"You snored, you know."@@ Milo points excitedly. @@.boy;"You did the little head-bob thing too! Twice!"@@ Ursa lets out another low rumble and rolls onto her back, paws in the air like a dog asking for belly rubs. @@.player;"Okay, yeah, that bear's adorable,"@@ you say, laughing. Noah chuckles, leaning down to scratch Ursa's chin. @@.noah;"She knows it."@@ @@.player;"That tea should be illegal,"@@ you say, still basking in the afterglow of it. @@.player;"I haven't felt that relaxed in my life."@@ @@.aurora;"Just make sure you don't drink that before school,"@@ Aurora says, faintly smiling. @@.aurora;"I'm not waking you up."@@ @@.player;"Noted,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But honestly, that was perfect."@@ Noah's warm smile returns. @@.noah;"I'm glad you liked it. You looked like you needed it."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, meeting his gaze. @@.player;"I think I really did."@@ <<elseif $d21whostea is 3>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21OtherTea4">>\ @@.daphne;"Philosopher's Steep,"@@ Daphne says simply, offering you a cup of violet tea. @@.daphne;"A blend of moonflower, sage, and memoryroot. It's said to open the mind to truths you've always known but never realized."@@ Amber grins over the rim of her cup. @@.amber;"It's basically brain fuel, $name."@@ @@.daphne;"It's not brain fuel,"@@ Daphne says, rolling her eyes. @@.daphne;"It's an invitation to think."@@ @@.boy;"Is it safe?"@@ Milo asks, squinting at the cauldron. @@.daphne;"Only dangerous if you're afraid of understanding yourself,"@@ Daphne says, smirking faintly. @@.noah;"That's a good slogan for your brand, Daphne,"@@ Noah says, chuckling lowly. She nods. @@.daphne;"Perhaps I'll embroider it on a pillow."@@ @@.aurora;"Go ahead, $name,"@@ Aurora says, gesturing toward the cup. @@.amber;"Worse case, you start quoting Plato,"@@ Amber snickers. @@.daphne;"I've //studied// Plato,"@@ Daphne interjects mildly. @@.daphne;"He was brilliant."@@ You glance down at the cup. The liquid shimmers faintly with constellation. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, taking a deep breath. @@.player;"Here goes nothing."@@ The first sip is strange. Floral and layered with notes of sage and lilac and something indescribable. It's not just flavor, it's memory. It feels like remembering something you never actually lived through. A scent from a dream. A thought you can't quite grasp. Your breath catches as the effect hits. It's like a thousand little doors in your head unlock all at once. Every thought, every detail, every tiny little thing around you suddenly connects to everything else. You blink at the spoon in your hand. @@.player;"Wait,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"Have you ever thought about how a spoon is like a bridge?"@@ @@.amber;"A what now?"@@ Amber asks, coughing into her tea. You hold up the spoon, eyes wide. @@.player;"No, think about it for a second. It holds things without keeping them. Like, it carries soup but doesn't //become// soup. Isn't that kind of profound? Like, it teaches us detachment."@@ Daphne's eyes light up immediately. @@.daphne;"Yes! ''Yes!'' The vessel and the contained! That's a perfect metaphor for identity. The spoon has purpose only when it serves something else, but is its essence lost when it's empty? Fascinating."@@ Aurora groans, head in hand. @@.aurora;"And we've lost them both."@@ @@.noah;"Let them have their fun,"@@ Noah says, chuckling under his breath. You're on a roll now, gesturing wildly with the spoon. @@.player;"And the handle is like the self! The part we grasp, the part that touches us, but the bowl is what actually interacts with the world. The real self is functional, not theoretical—"@@ Daphne leans forward, eyes gleaming. @@.daphne;"So you're saying identity exists only in relation to what it engages with. The self as process, not object. Beautiful. Very Heideggerian."@@ Milo stares between the two of you, clearly confused. @@.boy;"Are... are we still talking about tea?"@@ @@.player;"Milo,"@@ you say, swiveling toward him dramatically. @@.player;"Tea is everything."@@ @@.boy;"What?"@@ he asks, blinking. @@.player;"Tea is civilization distilled into liquid form!"@@ you declare. @@.player;"The steeping process is patience. The blend is diversity. The warmth is connection. To drink tea is to partake in the collective memory of humanity!"@@ @@.amber;"Oh my God,"@@ Amber wheezes. @@.amber;"He is gone."@@ Daphne claps softly, looking delighted. @@.daphne;"Bravo. And the act of sharing tea mirrors the dialectic of understanding. You and I are brewers of thought, $name."@@ Aurora mutters. @@.aurora;"More like the makers of migraines."@@ You ignore her. You couldn't care less because you're ''flying''. Everything makes sense. You can feel the shape of meaning itself, like the air hums with unspoken truths. @@.player;"This curve of the rim is perfection,"@@ you say, entranced by the cup. @@.player;"It's form and function intertwined. How many lips have met this shape across history? How many moments of warmth, of quiet reflection, have existed because someone shaped clay like this?"@@ Milo leans toward Amber, whispering loudly, @@.boy;"He's monologuing to a cup."@@ @@.amber;"It's beautiful, really,"@@ Amber says, tears of laughter in her eyes. Daphne, however, is thrilled. @@.daphne;"$name, do you realize that what you're describing here is the Platonic ideal? The concept of perfection existing in form rather than substance? You've internalized Form Theory!"@@ @@.player;"Oh my God, have I?"@@ you exclaim, blinking in awe. @@.daphne;"Yes!"@@ she says. @@.daphne;"Mnemosyne, note this down!"@@ Her raven familiar lets out a throaty caw and hops closer. She douses her beak with ink and starts moving it across parchment. After writing... //something//, she goes "Caw." @@.player;"See, she understands,"@@ you say, pointing at the raven. Daphne nods solemnly. @@.daphne;"She always does."@@ @@.aurora;"Please tell me this isn't permanent,"@@ Aurora begs. Noah chuckles. @@.noah;"It's not. Just let it run its course."@@ You and Daphne launch off again. You're talking about the symbolic resonance of teacups as vessels of human connection, the semiotics of frendship versus acquaintance, how the act of stirring could be seen as an existential blending of self and other. @@.daphne;"And the spoon as mediator, a Socratic dialogue made material,"@@ Daphne adds. You gasp. @@.player;"Exactly! You get me!"@@ @@.daphne;"I do!"@@ she says, genuinely thrilled. @@.daphne;"Finally someone understands!"@@ Aurora leans toward Amber and whispers, @@.aurora;"Maybe we should've given him Milo's tea."@@ Amber grins. @@.amber;"Nah, this one's educational."@@ You can't even hear them, really. You're lost in the rush of meaning and the pulse of interconnected ideas. You feel like you're swimming in pure fucking insight. The tea's warmth is in your veins, your mind's glowing, the whole wide universe makes sense. And then it fades. The light dulls, the air stops humming, and your thoughts slow down again. Daphne's still mid-sentence. @@.daphne;"—and so, through phenomenological reduction, we can understand that—"@@ She notices your blank expression. @@.daphne;"Oh. It's worn off, hasn't it?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, uh, sorry,"@@ you say, yawning. @@.player;"I just stopped caring about spoons."@@ Her face falls. @@.daphne;"Ah. Tragic."@@ @@.amber;"He's cured,"@@ Amber celebrates. Aurora smirks faintly. @@.aurora;"For now."@@ Daphne sighs dramatically, setting her cup down with a little clink. @@.daphne;"And just like that, I lose another philosopher to the mundanity of existence."@@ Noah gives her a kind smile. @@.noah;"It was a good five minutes, though."@@ Mnemosyne hops onto Daphne's shoulder, cawing softly in what sounds like sympathy. @@.player;"Yeah, sorry, I have no idea what I was on about,"@@ you say, stretching your arms lazily. @@.player;"Cups are cups again."@@ @@.daphne;"Morality is cruel,"@@ Daphne says, sighing. Amber grins. @@.amber;"You can always rope Milo into your next philosophy rant."@@ @@.boy;"Nope!"@@ Milo says. @@.boy;"I'm failing school!"@@ Mnemosyne croaks softly, almost like she's laughing, and the group dissolves into warmth and laughter once more. <<elseif $d21whostea is 4>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21OtherTea5">>\ Aurora's tea sits in her cup like liquid moonlight. Lights shimmer across its surface and faint starts flicker within. Every few seconds, an invisible breeze stirs the surface, creating ripples. @@.player;"That doesn't look like tea,"@@ you say, staring. Aurora glances up. @@.aurora;"Well, strictly speaking, it's not."@@ @@.amber;"Dude, she says this cryptic shit about everything,"@@ Amber says, smirking. @@.boy;"It's //technically// a tea,"@@ Milo says. @@.boy;"I mean, it's in a cup, right?"@@ Aurora ignores them both. @@.aurora;"It's called Astral Bloom,"@@ she says calmly. @@.aurora;"Brewed from dreamleaf and midnight dew. It's meant to silence the noise and help you see clearly."@@ @@.daphne;"Ah, a mind-clarifier,"@@ Daphne comments, intrigued. @@.daphne;"Those are notoriously difficult to brew properly, especially for a mage as young as you are, Aurora."@@ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"Most fail because they can't accept silence."@@ She looks at you, then slides the cup across the table. @@.aurora;"Care to try?"@@ @@.player;"Me?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.player;"Isn't that, like, something you take for meditation or something?"@@ Amber smirks. @@.amber;"Take a deep breath and relax, Prodigy. It's not going to make you ascend to another plane. Probably."@@ @@.noah;"If it does, we'll make sure to bring you back,"@@ Noah says, rumbling a low laugh. You take a slow breath and reach for the cup. The porcelain feels so cold that it almost numbs your fingers. Up close, the scent is of mint, jasmine, and something you can't identify. Something ancient. Aurora watches you with that half-smile of hers. Her owl, Astraea, perches on the back of her chair, head tilted and golden eyes unblinking. The feathers around her neck shimmer faintly. @@.player;"Alright, then,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"Bottoms up."@@ The moment the tea touches your tongue, the world changes. The flavor is smooth and clean, a cool rush that spreads right up to your skull. It doesn't burn or bite, but instead erases. You blink, and suddenly, everything just... stops. The chatter of the group cuts off mid-laugh. The soft rain outside vanishes. The faint hum of the magical wards in the Lumin Circle? Gone. There's no noise, just silence so pure that it's disturbing. Time itself has gone still. Amber's grin is frozen, Milo's hand is mid-gesture. Even the drops of rain outside of the circle don't fall. You even begin to see magic, faint filaments weaving through the air, tracing outlines around the others. You reach out and brush a finger through your lavender thread. It shimmers and vibrates softly. It's peaceful, yes, but it's not natural. You glance toward Aurora. She's the only one who moves. Her eyes glimmer faintly purple. Astraea spreads her wings quietly, feathers scattering tiny sparks. @@.aurora;"Peaceful, isn't it?"@@ Aurora asks, meeting your gaze and smiling. You open your mouth, but your voice comes out as a whisper. @@.player;"It's quiet. Too quiet."@@ Her gaze lingers on the suspended moment, on the stillness of her friends frozen in laughter. @@.aurora;"This is what focus feels like to me. The world stops making noise, and I can finally think."@@ You look around again, the strange suspended world shimmering at the edges. @@.player;"It's beautiful, but kind of scary too,"@@ you say, feeling a strange pang of loneliness. Aurora's expression softens just a little, a flicker of something vulnerable breaking through the calm. @@.aurora;"Most people say that. But for me, it's the only time I feel at peace. When everything else stops."@@ Astraea hoots softly. You look down at your hands, tracing the faint glow of mana flickering between your fingers. You've never seen your own magic so clearly before, soft lavender light curling through your veins. It's mesmerizing. It truly is. And then, as quickly as it began, the world returns. Sound //slams// back into you like a wave. The rain outside, the faint hum of mana, Amber's fox, Milo's voice shouting. You gasp, blinking rapidly, the sensory overload making your head spin. The threads of light fade and color flattens back to normal. @@.player;"That is a ''lot'' better,"@@ you say, putting a hand to your temple. @@.aurora;"I don't know about that,"@@ Aurora says, sipping the last of her tea with that same serene composure. @@.amber;"What'd it feel like?"@@ Amber asks, leaning over. @@.player;"Like the world just paused,"@@ you say, taking a slow breath. @@.player;"No noise, no thoughts, nothing."@@ @@.boy;"That's boring!"@@ Milo exclaims, waving his hands dramatically. @@.boy;"My tea is better."@@ @@.noah;"Impressive,"@@ Noah says, humming approvingly. @@.noah;"I can see why you're the leader of the Crestview Bay Branch, Aurora."@@ @@.daphne;"Tranquility through erasure,"@@ Daphne says, peering into her own tea. @@.daphne;"A fascinating paradox."@@ @@.player;"You drink that often?"@@ you ask, glancing back at Aurora. @@.aurora;"Maybe I do,"@@ she says cryptically. @@.aurora;"It keeps me centered. I can't afford to be distracted."@@ Astraea, perched behind her, ruffles her feathers and nips gently at Aurora's sleeve, as if scolding her for that last comment. The owl's eyes gleam as she turns her gaze toward you. @@.player;"She's pretty,"@@ you say, smiling faintly. Aurora strokes the owl's head. @@.aurora;"She's my eyes when I can't see clearly. And sometimes my conscience."@@ Astraea hoots again, preening proudly. @@.amber;"Even your bird disagrees with your workaholic tendencies,"@@ Amber says, chuckling. @@.aurora;"She worries too much,"@@ Aurora mutters, gaze softening slightly. @@.amber;"You both do,"@@ Amber counters. <</if>>\ <<button "End of the magic tea" "Day 21 - 18">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D21GroupPhoto">>\ The last traces of magic drift lazily through the air, mingling with the scent of rain and herbs. All around the table, the cauldrons simmer down to silence. A few soft pops of light fizzle out, and the energy all fades. Noah slowly stands up, stretching his broad shoulders. He raises one hand and murmurs something deep and low. Every cauldron gives a soft //whoomp// sound before instantly vanishing. The cups and ingredients follow. @@.noah;"And that's the cleanup spell done,"@@ he says, dusting his palms together. @@.noah;"No scrubbing today."@@ @@.boy;"Thank the stars!"@@ Milo says, clapping. @@.boy;"Last time, I spilled glitterroot all over the floor and it was impossible to get out."@@ @@.amber;"I told you not to stir with your hands,"@@ Amber says, laughing. @@.boy;"I didn't!"@@ Milo says, indignant. @@.boy;"It just exploded!"@@ Aurora sighs, pressing her fingers to her temple. @@.aurora;"You're lucky it didn't explode harder."@@ @@.daphne;"Entropy in action,"@@ Daphne hums. @@.daphne;"Magical chaos always seeks its most colorful expression."@@ @@.amber;"Daph, you can just say Milo makes a mess,"@@ Amber says with a grin. Everyone laughs, and even Aurora cracks a smile, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little. The rain outside has softened to a drizzle, tapping rhythmically against the circle's barrier. @@.amber;"Alright!"@@ Amber says, clapping her hands together. @@.amber;"Now for the best part."@@ Aurora turns, one eyebrow raised. @@.aurora;"The best part?"@@ @@.amber;"Group photo time,"@@ Amber says, grinning. @@.aurora;"...Group what now?"@@ Amber waves her camera through the air. @@.amber;"Group photo! You know, to commemorate the night. It's a Crestview Bay Lumin Circle tradition."@@ @@.aurora;"We've literally never done that before,"@@ Aurora says, staring at her flatly. Amber tilts her head innocently. @@.amber;"That's because there were only three of us before. Not exactly a circle, more like a triangle. But now that we have six people, and all their familiars, it's official. We deserve a proper group photo tradition."@@ @@.boy;"YES!"@@ Milo exclaims, lighting up instantly. @@.boy;"Finally, someone gets it! We need proof of our awesomeness."@@ Daphne sets down her empty cup, intrigued. @@.daphne;"A visual record of fellowship. How sentimental. I approve."@@ @@.noah;"It //is// a good idea,"@@ Noah says, chuckling. @@.noah;"We should mark the moment."@@ Aurora hesitates. @@.aurora;"It's not really something we //do//. The Lumin Circle is supposed to be about formality, documentation, order—"@@ @@.amber;"Yeah, yeah,"@@ Amber interrupts with a teasing grin. @@.amber;"You're our Circle Leader, not a politician. Come on, loosen up a bit. You've been serious enough over the last couple of years."@@ Aurora folds her arms, her jaw tightening. @@.aurora;"Amber, it's my job to be serious. The Circle needs structure, especially now that we have new members."@@ You can hear the change in her voice. She's putting her walls back up and slipping back into the role of leader. The crushing weight of her responsibility. The others notice too. The light atmosphere dips just slightly, until Noah breaks the silence in his slow, grounding way. @@.noah;"Aurora,"@@ he says gently, @@.noah;"structure doesn't vanish just because we smile once in a while."@@ Amber leans on the table, voice softer now. @@.amber;"You don't have to carry all of it alone, you know. There's six of us here. Did you know the hexagon is stable because they distribute force evenly across all six of their sides?"@@ @@.daphne;"Even Aristotle said friendship is a partnership of virtue,"@@ Daphne says, nodding. @@.daphne;"You can be both a leader and a participant in joy."@@ @@.boy;"Yeah!"@@ Milo exclaims, bouncing on his heels. @@.boy;"Besides, you look ''way'' cooler when you're smiling. Like, less scary boss mage and more... fun boss mage."@@ @@.aurora;"Fun boss mage?"@@ Aurora asks, blinking. Milo grins. @@.boy;"You know, the kind that lets people take five-minute snack breaks."@@ A faint snort escapes Aurora before she can stop it. @@.aurora;"You would ask for snack breaks in a magical meeting, Milo."@@ Amber smirks. @@.amber;"See? That's the Aurora we like. Not the Commander of Eternal Responsibility."@@ @@.noah;"The title does have a certain ring to it, though,"@@ Noah says, rumbling with laughter. Aurora sighs, rolling her eyes, but there's some warmth there now. @@.aurora;"You're all insufferable. But you know what? Fine. One picture. But if anyone posts it on the LuminNet—"@@ Milo gasps. @@.boy;"Oh my God, I ''have'' to post it on the LuminNet."@@ @@.aurora;"Milo."@@ @@.boy;"Okay, okay!"@@ He holds his hands, grinning. @@.boy;"It'll only be for the archives."@@ Amber claps once. @@.amber;"Perfect! Everyone, line up."@@ Aurora straightens, glancing around at the group. @@.aurora;"Familiars too."@@ @@.amber;"Obviously,"@@ Amber says. @@.amber;"They're part of the family."@@ You all begin to shuffle into position, trying to decide who stands where. The familiars move instinctively toward their mages. Astraea, Aurora's owl, flutters down from a branch. Her wings spread wide as she lands neatly on Aurora's shoulder. Her feathers shimmer blue and her eyes glow purple in the dim light. Sol, Amber's fox, stretches luxuriously before trotting over. He brushes against her legs before sitting neatly at her boots, tails curling around his paw like a small campfire. Ursa, Noah's bear familiar, lumbers forward gently. She sits beside him, pressing her massive head against his side, eyes half-lidded with quiet affection. Mnemosyne, Daphne's raven, perches atop her shoulders. Its feathers are glossy as ink and faint runes pulse beneath each wing. Nimbus, Milo's goat, who has yet to stop bouncing since being summoned, hops in circles around everyone. A small bell tied to his neck (where did it come from?) jingles faintly. @@.boy;"He's excited,"@@ Milo says, half-apologetic, half-proud. You stand near Aurora, the faint lavender shimmer of your own mana flickering across your fingertips. \ \ <<if $familiar is 0>>\ Somewhere nearby, Sable curls close. Her fur shimmers faintly with lavender streaks, soft enough to catch the light. She rubs against your leg with a low, contented purr, her tail curling around your ankle before she sits neatly at your side. Every so often, she looks up at you with wide eyes that gleam with gentle intelligence. Then, she presses her head into your knee to remind you she's there. <<elseif $familiar is 1>>\ Somewhere nearby, Seraphine curls close, coiling herself delicately around your shoulders like a living ribbon of silver and lavender. She nuzzles beneath your chin before settling, her forked tongue flicking out now and then in curious little motions. Warm and surprisingly gentle, she rests her head against your collarbone, watching the others with regal calm. <<elseif $familiar is 2>>\ Somewhere nearby, Solana curls close, settling herself beside you with her head resting lightly against your knee. Her fur is a mottled blend of cream and gray, faintly shimmering with hints of lavender when the light hits just right. Her tail swishes lazily as she yawns, then leans in to nudge your hand with her nose. It's an affectionate reminder that she's there for you. <</if>>\ Amber fiddles with her camera, which is floating midair. @@.amber;"Okay! Everyone look alive! Maybe we should all do silly faces."@@ Aurora crosses her arms. @@.aurora;"We are ''not'' doing silly."@@ @@.amber;"We definitely should,"@@ Amber says, grinning. Aurora gives her a long sigh but doesn't move away. Her serious expression softens a little as she glances over the group. Milo's grin, Daphne's knowing smile, Noah's calm warmth, Amber's teasing confidence, and you, standing beside her with that hesitant smile that mirrors her own. You catch her whisper to herself: @@.aurora;"...Maybe this tradition isn't such a bad idea."@@ //Click// <<set $lumincircleCG to true>>\ <<set $lumincircleCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $lumincircleCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $lumincircleCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $lumincircleCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_LuminCircle">>\ A flash of white light erupts, just bright enough to make you blink. When your vision clears, Amber's camera is already spitting out a shimmering piece of enchanted paper. The image on it develops instantly, colors blooming to life. It's not just flat ink, it //moves//. The faintest flickers of motion play across its surface like a captured moment in time: Ursa's ears twitching, Astraea's wings shifting, Milo's grin widening. It's as if photo itself is alive. Amber hold it up with a grin. @@.amber;"Perfect! Look at that! The first official photo of the Crestview Bay Circle."@@ Aurora folds her arms, pretending not to look pleased. You notice her eyes flicking toward the picture anyway. @@.aurora;"I suppose it turned out fine."@@ @@.amber;"'Fine'?"@@ Amber says, mock-offended. @@.amber;"It's a masterpiece!"@@ Milo bounces on his heels, eyes sparkling. @@.boy;"Can we do another one? Like, a fun one? Maybe a silly pose?!"@@ @@.amber;"You just read my damn mind, Milo,"@@ Amber says, smirking immediately. @@.amber;"Okay, time for a silly one now!"@@ @@.aurora;"Absolutely not,"@@ Aurora says, head snapping toward her. @@.amber;"Oh, come on,"@@ Amber says. @@.amber;"One silly one won't kill you."@@ Aurora stares back, unflinching. @@.aurora;"You said the exact same thing before the mana pudding explosion incident."@@ @@.amber;"Dude, that was Milo's fault,"@@ Amber protests. @@.amber;"I didn't have anything to do with it."@@ Milo gasps. @@.boy;"Betrayal!"@@ Aurora sighs, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. @@.aurora;"We're not doing a silly one."@@ Amber holds up both hands in defeat. @@.amber;"You know what, fine. I pushed you enough tonight. We'll leave it here. The serious one will do for now."@@ Milo, however, is already halfway toward Amber. @@.boy;"Can I see it? Please please please please—"@@ @@.amber;"Alright, alright, calm down before you combust. Here."@@ She hands him a copy that shimmers faintly with mana. The moment he touches it, the surface ripples like water, showing a faintly animated version of the group laughing and breathing softly, like the memory itself is alive. @@.boy;"Woah! This is amazing!"@@ Milo says, staring at it in awe. @@.boy;"I'm totally posting it on the LuminNet!"@@ Aurora freezes. @@.aurora;"You're //what//?"@@ @@.boy;"Posting it!"@@ he says, clutching the photo to his chest. @@.boy;"Everyone's gotta see how cool we look, ow, HEY!"@@ Aurora is already moving. @@.aurora;"You will ''not'' put that online!"@@ He yelps and sprints across the circle, laughing so hard he almost trips over his own feet several times. @@.boy;"You'll never catch me alive, boss!"@@ @@.aurora;"You're gonna regret that!"@@ Aurora shouts, her voice firm but amused. Astraea swoops after them with an indignant hoot as the chase begins. Milo darts around the circle's edge, zig-zagging between Noah and Daphne while Aurora pursues him. Noah stands there, hands on his hips, trying to look disapproving but clearly struggling not to smile. Daphne hides a small laugh behind her sleeve. @@.daphne;"It appears leadership has its limits,"@@ she murmurs. Amber, meanwhile, watches them run in circles for a moment before drifting over to stand beside you. She speaks quietly, just loud enough for you to hear over the laughter. @@.amber;"She's changed a lot tonight,"@@ she says softly. @@.amber;"You saw it too, didn't you?"@@ You glance at Aurora. Her hair glows faintly under the light and her laughter is almost unrecognizable from the serious, stoic girl you've seen until now. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"She's different when she lets herself be."@@ Amber smiles faintly, her gaze distant for a moment. @@.amber;"Be kind to her, okay? I know she can be hard to read sometimes. Always has walls up. But she really is trying her best."@@ She pauses, then adds gently, @@.amber;"It's not easy being her age and already feeling like the whole world's on your shoulders."@@ You nod quietly. @@.player;"I will,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Promise."@@ @@.amber;"Good,"@@ Amber says, patting your shoulder. @@.amber;"I think she needs someone like you around."@@ By now, Aurora has cornered Milo near the tree line. He's waving the photo in surrender, giggling uncontrollably while Astraea flaps nearby like a referee. @@.boy;"Okay, okay, I won't post it! I promise! Mercy!"@@ @@.aurora;"Good,"@@ Aurora states, snatching the photo back with a triumphant little smirk. @@.aurora;"I'd hate to erase your memory again."@@ Milo gasps. @@.boy;"Wait, you can do that?! //Have// you done that?!"@@ @@.amber;"Don't ask, Milo!"@@ Amber calls out, grinning. The rain outside stops, and the glow of the Lumin Circle begins to dim. The familiars start to stir. Ursa curls protectively beside Noah, Sol flicks his tail lazily against Amber's boots, Mnemosyne cleans her feathers, and Nimbus is eating some grass. You catch Aurora's eyes as she walks back, the hint of mischief still lingering hin her smile. She looks more like an eighteen-year-old girl now than the stoic mage who began the day. A leader, yes, but human. @@.amber;"Alright, I think that's enough fun for one night,"@@ Amber says, yawning. @@.amber;"The first full Lumin Circle was a complete success."@@ Noah nods approvingly. @@.noah;"Good tea and not a single tree fell. I'd call that a miracle."@@ Milo raises his hand. @@.boy;"Hey, I can still blow up a tree if you want me to!"@@ @@.aurora;"Not helping,"@@ Aurora says dryly, though her tone is soft. @@.amber;"See you all next time, yeah?"@@ Amber says, grinning. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ One by one, the familiars vanish into mist. The circle disappears, the runes that were drawn on the floor fading. The six of you stand there for a moment longer, the warmth of laughter still clinging to the air. As the last of the light fades from the circle, you can't help but think that this feels like the start of something special. <<button "Lumin Circle Complete!" "Day 21 - 19">><</button>>

@@.boy;"Wait, wait, wait,"@@ Milo says, talking a mile a minute as Daphne tries to guide him toward the forest path. @@.boy;"I ''swear'' I can make something spark again if I just direct the mana well."@@ @@.aurora;"No,"@@ Aurora says flatly. Milo groans. @@.boy;"You never even let me finish!"@@ @@.aurora;"Because I value my continued existence,"@@ she replies. Daphne chuckles softly. @@.daphne;"Come on, Milo. Before you tempt fate again."@@ Amber waves lazily. @@.amber;"See you next week, you two. And don't blow anything up."@@ Noah lingers for a bit longer, patting Ursa's side before she vanishes into mist. @@.noah;"That was a good first Circle,"@@ he says. @@.noah;"I'm liking California. I think everything will work, Aurora. You've built something solid here."@@ @@.aurora;"Thank you,"@@ Aurora says, tone softening slightly. @@.aurora;"Couldn't have done it without your help."@@ @@.noah;"I'll see you soon,"@@ he says, smiling. @@.aurora;"Stay safe on your way back,"@@ she says, and he nods before heading out into the misty path behind the others. And then, for the first time that evening, the clearing goes quiet. The rain has stopped completely now. The wet grass glimmers faintly under the setting sun filtering through the trees. You stand beside Aurora in the lingering glow of the spellwork. She exhales slowly, running a hand through her hair. @@.aurora;"It's not like this that often,"@@ she murmurs. @@.aurora;"I'm used to it being busy and loud with a dozen things happening at once. Now that everyone has left, it's suddenly just quiet."@@ @@.player;"You don't like quiet?"@@ you ask, glancing at her. @@.aurora;"I actually like it,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"I just don't get it very often. Someone always needs saving."@@ You smile faintly. @@.player;"That's the price of being the boss, huh?"@@ @@.aurora;"Apparently,"@@ Aurora says, lips twitching into a small smirk. @@.aurora;"You'd think saving the world would come with better hours."@@ You laugh softly, and for a few seconds, it's peaceful. You're about to say something else when a faint shimmer of light flares near the treeline. You both turn as Amber steps back into view, hands shoved casually into her pockets, her fox familiar Sol trotting at her heels with his tail flicking with a little flame. @@.aurora;"Forgot something?"@@ Aurora asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.amber;"Sort of,"@@ Amber says, grin sharp but playful. @@.amber;"I couldn't stop thinking on my way home. You two got a minute?"@@ @@.aurora;"Whenever you say that, it usually means trouble,"@@ Aurora says, already wary. @@.amber;"It's not trouble, exactly,"@@ Amber says, laughing faintly. @@.amber;"Just... progress."@@ @@.player;"Progress?"@@ you ask, blinking. Amber saunters closer, her fox weaving lazily around her ankles. @@.amber;"Yeah. Remember how I told you I'd dig into your $referto?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. She stops in front of you and tilts her head slightly, eyes bright with an analytical spark. @@.amber;"Well, I found something interesting."@@ @@.aurora;"You said before it was too complex to dismantle directly,"@@ Aurora states, frowning. @@.amber;"It still is,"@@ Amber admits, brushing a lock of hair back. @@.amber;"But there's a layer of it I hadn't looked closely at before. A part that regulates the transformation parameters. Think of it like a limiter."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Okay... and what does that mean, exactly?"@@ @@.amber;"It means part of your $referto isn't just changing you, it's managing the changes,"@@ Amber says, giving a half-shrug. @@.amber;"Dictating when, where, how far. And apparently... how much."@@ You frown, confused. @@.player;"How much //what//?"@@ Amber hesitates just long enough for Aurora to narrow her eyes. @@.aurora;"Amber,"@@ she warns. @@.aurora;"What exactly are you getting at?"@@ Amber exhales through her nose. @@.amber;"Alright, fine. The $referto has a lock on your chest size."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.amber;"It's set to a default value,"@@ she continues, entirely unfazed by your expression. @@.amber;"Medium. Which, according to the $referto's magical blueprint, corresponds to what you genetically have. Basically, it's using a baseline profile of what you 'should' look like, and it's keeping you there."@@ You stare at her, completely blank. @@.player;"So you're saying—"@@ @@.amber;"That your body's technically capable of changing more,"@@ Amber says breezily, @@.amber;"but the $referto says 'nope.' I found the sub-layer that enforces that rule."@@ Aurora pinches the bridge of her nose. @@.aurora;"And you're telling us this //why//, exactly?"@@ @@.amber;"Because it's progress!"@@ Amber says, spreading her hands. @@.amber;"I found a section of the $referto I can actually interact with. It took me a lot of sleepless nights to get this."@@ @@.aurora;"How does this possibly help?"@@ Aurora says, her expression halfway between disbelief and exhaustion. @@.amber;"It doesn't yet,"@@ Amber says, shrugging. @@.amber;"But it could lead to something. Every little piece we understand gets us closer to maybe unraveling the bigger structure."@@ You rub the back of your neck. @@.player;"So, to be clear, you can't remove the $referto."@@ Amber's smirk fades into a small sigh. @@.amber;"No. Not yet. I can't even destabilize it safely. The $referto is too interwoven with your essence, and Madame Serena is a ''damn'' good mage. Pulling at it the wrong way would hurt you, or worse. But... I //can// start peeling off smaller layers."@@ @@.player;"So you could loosen it?"@@ you say, blinking slowly. Amber grins again, teasing but not unkind. @@.amber;"Theoretically, yeah. I could disable part of the limiter and let the $referto adapt more naturally to you instead of keeping you stuck."@@ Aurora groans. @@.aurora;"Amber, please tell me you're not actually suggesting—"@@ @@.amber;"Look, look, I'm not suggesting anything!"@@ Amber cuts in. @@.amber;"I'm just saying I made progress. That's all."@@ Aurora sighs, rubbing her forehead. @@.aurora;"Only you would return after a meeting to announce you discovered how to give $name bigger tits."@@ @@.amber;"Hey, progress is progress,"@@ Amber says, utterly unbothered. @@.amber;"You take the wins where you get them."@@ You exhale, still trying to process it. @@.player;"So just to summarize, you came all the way back here to tell me you can make my chest bigger."@@ @@.amber;"Exactly!"@@ Amber grins. @@.aurora;"You are impossible, Amber,"@@ Aurora says, staring at her for a long moment. @@.amber;"You're welcome,"@@ Amber says, chuckling. Sol, Amber's fox familiar, gives a tiny bark that sounds suspiciously like laughter. @@.player;"I don't even know how to respond to that,"@@ you say, rubbing your temples. @@.aurora;"You don't have to,"@@ Aurora says, trying to stay composed but clearly fighting back a smile. @@.aurora;"Amber's just proud of herself for finding something to poke at."@@ @@.amber;"You know me too well,"@@ Amber states, giving a theatrical bow. @@.aurora;"Unfortunately."@@ @@.amber;"For what it's worth, I'm still trying, $name,"@@ Amber says with quiet sincerity. @@.amber;"It's complicated, but every little thing I learn about this $referto gives me more to work with. I'll find a way to fix this someday."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Amber,"@@ you say, nodding. You're genuinely touched despite the bizarre delivery. @@.amber;"Alright, I should head back before the fox decides to eat my dinner again,"@@ she says, smiling faintly. She snaps her fingers, and Sol flickers faintly before vanishing into a swirl of glowing embers. @@.amber;"See you two around."@@ Aurora waves half-heartedly. @@.aurora;"Next time, maybe lead with the important part."@@ @@.amber;"That //was// the important part,"@@ Amber says, grinning over her shoulder. As she's about to leave, your throat catches. <<button "Tell Amber to wait, you want to loosen it" "Day 21 - 20">>\<<set $d21boob to true>>\<<trackChoice "D21_boob" "Tell Amber to wait, you want to loosen it" "story">><</button>> <<button "Let her leave" "Day 21 - 20">>\<<set $d21boob to false>>\<<trackChoice "D21_boob" "Let her leave" "story">><</button>>

<<set $bra to $d18bra>>\ You step out into the rain, umbrella in hand, and the sound wraps around you immediately. The world feels smaller underneath the nylon, like the canopy of raindrops has made its own quiet room. Your shoes hit the concrete as you follow the winding path toward the woods. Crestview Bay looks different in the rain. The air smells like pine and ocean salt, and you can see your reflection stretch across puddles in lazy ripples. The pavement turns to dirt, and the forest rises ahead. Tall trees are clustered close together, mist curling. The sound of the river carries faintly through the distance. The forest feels alive in a way it doesn't when it's dry. Raindrops cling to every branch, and when the wind stirs, they fall in cascades. Every few steps, you feel the hum of magic beneath your feet, faint but rhythmic. Maybe it's the circle Aurora mentioned. Maybe it's just the forest's way of telling you you're getting close. As you walk, your thoughts wander. The forest feels too quiet not to think in. <<button "Aurora" "Day 21 - 3">>\<<set $d21walkthought to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D21_walkthought" "Aurora" "story">><</button>> <<button "Amber" "Day 21 - 3">>\<<set $d21walkthought to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D21_walkthought" "Amber" "story">><</button>> <<button "Milo" "Day 21 - 3">>\<<set $d21walkthought to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D21_walkthought" "Milo" "story">><</button>> <<button "Madame Serena" "Day 21 - 3">>\<<set $d21walkthought to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D21_walkthought" "Madame Serena" "story">><</button>> <<button "Your life has gotten really weird" "Day 21 - 3">>\<<set $d21walkthought to 4>>\<<trackChoice "D21_walkthought" "Your life has gotten really weird" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d21boob is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21LargeChest">>\ <<set $femineChanges += (4 - $breastsProg)>>\ <<set $feminineLooks to $feminineLooks + ((4 - $breastsProg) * 5)>>\ <<set $breastsProg = 4>>\ @@.player;"Wait!"@@ you say, the words slipping out almost instinctively. @@.amber;"Yeah?"@@ Amber asks, pausing mid-step. Aurora blinks, curious. You hesitate, and for a second, you almost swallow the words back down. But something about the afternoon light makes it easier to say it aloud. @@.player;"I think I want to,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"Loosen it. The restriction, I mean."@@ @@.amber;"You sure?"@@ Amber asks, tilting her head slightly. Aurora looks at you sharply. @@.aurora;"Really?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yes. I want to have //some// control, even if it's small."@@ Aurora's expression softens a little at that, something complicated flickering behind her eyes. @@.aurora;"I can understand that,"@@ she mutters. @@.amber;"Alright,"@@ Amber says, exhaling. @@.amber;"Your call, Prodigy."@@ She steps back toward you, rolling her shoulders as her fingers begin to glow faintly with warm amber light. Her skin shimmers with runes, each one pulsing softly. @@.amber;"This won't hurt. It's more like releasing a knot. The magic might feel heavier for a moment, but you'll be fine."@@ @@.player;"Got it,"@@ you say, nodding. Amber's hands rise, palms hovering just above your chest, fingers tracing invisible lines through the air. The air around you hums softly, like a string being tuned. You can feel strange vibrations under your skin, a tingling warmth building outward. @@.amber;"Okay... finding the limiter thread... and—"@@ The hum deepens, the air rippling faintly around you. For a second, the world seems to pulse, a single rhythmic thump. The energy coils tight, then releases all at once. A brief rush of warmth and light washing through you like a gust of wind. The magic fades. @@.player;"That felt weird,"@@ you say, blinking. @@.amber;"Uhhh,"@@ Amber says, blinking. @@.amber;"Huh."@@ Aurora tilts her head. @@.aurora;"What?"@@ Amber lowers her hands slowly, brow furrowing in surprise. @@.amber;"So I meant to //loosen// the limiter, not... uh..."@@ Aurora sighs, already sounding resigned. @@.aurora;"Amber."@@ @@.player;"This sounds concerning,"@@ you say, looking between them. Your chest feels heavier. A ''lot'' heavier. @@.player;"Did you just make my chest bigger?"@@ @@.amber;"I didn't mean to,"@@ Amber murmurs. @@.amber;"Fuck. I'm sorry."@@ @@.aurora;"Amber, you're meant to be the responsible one here,"@@ Aurora says pinching her nose. @@.amber;"Yeah, you're right,"@@ Amber says, exhaling through her nose. @@.amber;"That wasn't supposed to happen, $name. I //thought// it would stabilize at a neutral state, I really did. I was trying to make things easier for you, $name, not throw another curveball at you."@@ @@.aurora;"You made a mistake,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Just own it and fix it."@@ @@.amber;"I will,"@@ Amber says, nodding. @@.amber;"I'll go back over the array and isolate the feedback pattern. There's a chance the limiter's reset instead of loosening cleanly, which means I can roll it back if I figure out what caused the overcorrection."@@ @@.player;"It's okay,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"I know you didn't mean to mess anything up."@@ @@.amber;"Ugh, it's not okay,"@@ she says, her tone firm. @@.amber;"Magic like this is complex and unpredictable. I should've known better than to adjust a binding field like that without a full analysis. Shit, Amber, what were you thinking? I'll spend the next few days running through models and trace where the imbalance came from."@@ You can hear the guilt in her voice. She's not the casual, snarky Amber right now. She's the version that takes her work seriously, the one that knows magic is a responsibility. @@.aurora;"You'll figure it out,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"You always do."@@ Amber gives her a tired smile. @@.amber;"Yeah, I just wish I didn't screw-up in the first place."@@ @@.player;"I trust you,"@@ you say, letting out a small laugh. @@.amber;"Thanks, Prodigy,"@@ Amber says, eyes warm with quiet gratitude. @@.amber;"That means more than you think. I'll get to work as soon as I get home. You have my word."@@ Aurora gives a short nod. @@.aurora;"Good."@@ Amber looks between the two of you, then takes a deep breath. @@.amber;"And for what it's worth, $name, I really am sorry. I should've tested the layers more carefully. I didn't mean to change anything about you without your say."@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"I know."@@ @@.amber;"I'll message you both once I make progress, alright?"@@ Amber says. @@.amber;"It shouldn't take long."@@ She adjusts her jacket and turns toward the forest path. @@.aurora;"Maybe we shouldn't let her experiment in the middle of the day next time,"@@ Aurora says. @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you respond. <<else>>\ You don't say anything. You just watch as Amber walks off through the trees, sunlight catching the faint shimmer of her hair before she disappears down the forest path. The air feels calm again. @@.aurora;"You don't want them to be bigger?"@@ Aurora asks, one eyebrow lifting slightly. You shrug, scratching the back of your neck. @@.player;"Nah, I'm good."@@ @@.aurora;"Good answer,"@@ Aurora says, smiling. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 21 - 21">><</button>>

The forest falls into a quiet stillness after Amber leaves. Only the wind moves, rustling through the dripping leaves. It shakes loose the last drops of rain that patter softly against the forest floor. A faint shimmer of magic still lingers in the air, although it //is// fading. You and Aurora stand there for a while, saying nothing. The silence isn't uncomfortable, exactly. It's more like the two of you are letting your thoughts settle until the right words can find their way out. You shift your weight slightly. The quiet stretches on. Aurora's purple eyes are fixed somewhere ahead, distant. You shift your weight slightly as the quiet stretches on. Finally, Aurora exhales. A long, quiet sigh. @@.aurora;"You deserve to know more, $name."@@ You blink, looking up at her. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ Aurora nods slowly. @@.aurora;"I've been keeping a lot of things from you. From everyone, really."@@ There's something about the way she says it that makes your stomach tighten. It's soft, steady, yet threaded with guilt. You've known her for a while now, but she's never sounded like this. @@.player;"You mean about magic stuff?"@@ you ask carefully. @@.aurora;"Everything,"@@ Aurora says, jaw tightening slightly. @@.aurora;"I tell myself that I ''have'' to protect people. That if I carried everything alone, no one else would have to get hurt."@@ @@.player;"That's kind of a lot to carry by yourself,"@@ you say, frowning. @@.aurora;"Yeah,"@@ she says, a tired smile flickering across her lips. @@.aurora;"It's been a lot. I can't explain here, but there's a place I can show you. Somewhere safe. Somewhere private."@@ @@.player;"Safe from what?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"From everything and everyone,"@@ Aurora says, her expression turning unreadable again. She turns away and motions for you to follow. @@.aurora;"Come on. It's not far."@@ You nod and step after her, accepting her invitation. The ground beneath your shoes softens as you move off the main path, leaves muffling your footsteps. Aurora walks ahead, steady and quiet. Every so often, Aurora glances over her shoulder to make sure you're keeping up. Her expression is a bit lighter than before, like the very act of deciding to share something has already lifted a small weight from her. Neither of you speak as the forest thickens around you. You can't help but feel that wherever she's taking you, it's somewhere she's been meaning to show you for a long time. <<button "What has Aurora been hiding?" "Day 21 - 22">><</button>>

The woods grow denser the farther you follow Aurora, the air thick with the scent of moss and pine. The light softens into a muted green, breaking through the canopy here and there. It feels quieter here, peaceful and intentional. Aurora doesn't speak for a long time, but you can tell from her expression that she knows exactly where she's going. Her steps are measured, and the weight she carries in her shoulders seem lighter now that she's moving toward something familiar. Astraea has reappeared and is gliding ahead of her, wings catching faint glimmers of light. Eventually, the trail opens into a small clearing surrounded by tall trees, their trunks wrapped in ivy and glowing faintly with old magic. You wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't led you there. It's tucked away so deep that even sound seems reluctant to enter. You open your mouth to ask where you are, but Aurora raises a hand before you can. Her eyes flick upward. You follow her gaze and see that high above, nearly hidden among the thick branches, sits a small treehouse. Its wooden planks have been worn by the passage of time, patched and reinforced in places by delicate purple runes that shimmer faintly as the wind stirs. A soft glow spills from a rectangular window, like it's waiting for her. It's beautiful in a quiet sort of way. Aurora crosses her arms loosely, looking up at it with an expression you've never seen on her before. Something wistful, maybe even vulnerable. @@.aurora;"No one else knows about this place,"@@ she says softly. @@.aurora;"Not even Amber or Milo."@@ @@.player;"You built this?"@@ you ask, glancing around the clearing. @@.aurora;"Yeah."@@ She exhales a small laugh. @@.aurora;"When I was younger, I used to sneak out here when I wanted to practice magic. Or when I didn't want anyone to see me mess up."@@ Her eyes drift toward the base of the oak tree, where the faint shimmer of old wards hum gently. @@.aurora;"I guess I never really stopped coming back."@@ There's something in her voice that makes you hesitate to speak. The way her gaze lingers on the ladder, the way her fingers brush lightly against the trunk. It's as if she's greeting an old friend. She glances back at you, offering a crooked smile. @@.aurora;"It's not much, but it's quiet and safe. When everything gets too loud, this is where I go."@@ You nod, still taking it in. @@.player;"I never would've found it if you didn't show me."@@ @@.aurora;"That's the point,"@@ she says with a faint smirk, though her tone is gentle. @@.aurora;"When I was younger, I used to think hiding away up here would make me better at controlling things. That if I just worked harder, practiced longer, I could stop... never mind."@@ @@.player;"Stop what?"@@ you ask, tilting your head. Aurora hesitates, looking off into the trees. The breeze shifts, and for a moment, she looks older than eighteen. Her eyes have a deep tiredness to them that doesn't come from lack of sleep. @@.aurora;"Magic doesn't always cooperate, $name. When I was learning, I thought I could handle anything. My mentor warned me to slow down, but I didn't listen."@@ Her voice gets quieter. @@.aurora;"I thought I was helping, but I just ended up hurting people."@@ You stay silent. This is the type of confession you shouldn't interrupt. Aurora's hand drifts to the ladder, her finger tracing one of the carved runes. @@.aurora;"Since then, I've had to remind myself that power isn't just about //what// you can do. It's also about what happens when you don't use it responsibly."@@ The air hands heavy with her words. You want to tell her she's not alone, but the look on her face tells you she's not really ready to hear that. Not yet, at least. Instead, you ask @@.player;"You come here a lot, then?"@@ @@.aurora;"Whenever I need to remember who I'm trying to be,"@@ she says, a faint smile on her lips. She grabs the first rung of the ladder, testing it with her weight before starting to climb. @@.aurora;"Come on. It's sturdier than it looks. Just watch your footing. There's a missing rung somewhere in the middle. I've been meaning to fix it for... three years now."@@ @@.player;"That's reassuring,"@@ you joke, laughing. @@.aurora;"What?"@@ she asks, glancing down at you with a smirk. @@.aurora;"You don't trust my craftmanship?"@@ @@.player;"Hmm, I'm considering it,"@@ you say, but your smile betrays you. Aurora shakes her head, still climbing. @@.aurora;"You'll be fine. Just don't look down."@@ You take a breath and step closer to the base of the tree. The ladder sways slightly as you grab the first rung. The worn wood is cool beneath your hands. You glance up, seeing Aurora already halfway up, the sunlight filtering through the branches and glinting off her hair. She looks at ease here, free of the cold formality she has to wear everywhere else. @@.aurora;"Well, come on, then,"@@ she calls down, her voice lighter than you've ever heard it. @@.aurora;"You're not getting out of this one."@@ You tighten your grip on the ladder and begin to climb. <<button "The treehouse" "Day 21 - 23">><</button>>

Your hands ache slightly by the time you reach the top, but the sight that greets you makes it worth it. Aurora is already sitting on the ledge, her hand outstretched toward you. The light from the canopy filters through the leaves above her. You hesitate for a half second, out of instinct rather than actual doubt, and she rolls her eyes. @@.aurora;"C'mon, don't make me hang here forever,"@@ she teases. You grab her hand. Her grip is firm and steady as she pulls you up with ease. For someone who lives most of her life in grim focus, she's surprisingly casual about hoisting you into a treetop hideout. You land beside her, knees brushing the rough wooden floorboards, and exhale. @@.aurora;"See?"@@ she says, brushing off her hands. @@.aurora;"Not so bad."@@ You glance around, trying to take in everything at once. And shit, there's a ''lot'' to take in. The space is small but warm, filled with the kind of organized chaos that comes from years of collecting. Shelves line the walls, cluttered with books whose spines are too faded to read, glass jars filled with mysterious liquids, tiny carved figurines, and half-burned candles. A faded blanket is draped over a chair, its fabric embroidered with stars. The whole room smells faintly of cedarwood, rain, and the lingering trace of magic. It's oddly nostalgic for a place you've never been before. @@.player;"Woah,"@@ you breathe. @@.player;"You really built all this?"@@ Aurora smiles faintly, brushing her hair behind her ear. @@.aurora;"Most of it. I added to it over the years. Some of the older stuff—"@@ She nudges a cracked lantern with her boot @@.aurora;"—was part of my first 'magical experiments.' I thought I could make a lantern that burned forever. It didn't."@@ @@.player;"What happened?"@@ @@.aurora;"Let's just say my mentor made me spend a month cleaning soot out of the rafters."@@ You chuckle, glancing toward one of the walls where a series of feathers, polished stones, and a broken compass hang from strings like wind chimes. @@.player;"And all this?"@@ Aurora follows your gaze and shrugs. @@.aurora;"Little things I found. Each one's from somewhere I learned something. Or messed something up."@@ She smirks. @@.aurora;"Mostly that second one."@@ You pick up a small metal trinket shaped like a frog, its eyes tiny crystals that gleam faintly. @@.player;"What about this little guy?"@@ @@.aurora;"Oh, that was from when Milo tried to transmute a rock into a familiar,"@@ she says, grinning. @@.aurora;"It turned into that instead. I kept it because it croaks at random and scares the hell out of people in the middle of the night."@@ You brink, staring at it warily. @@.player;"Does it still croak?"@@ @@.aurora;"Sometimes."@@ As if on cue, the trinket gives a loud metallic //ribbit//. You nearly drop it, and Aurora bursts out laughing. An actual laugh, bright and unguarded. @@.player;"That was ''not'' funny,"@@ you mutter, but you can't help grinning. @@.aurora;"Oh, that was hilarious,"@@ she says, wiping her eyes. @@.aurora;"The first time it happened, I screamed so loud Astraea flew into a window."@@ You glance toward the window behind Aurora where her owl familiar is perched on a branch. Astraea's head tilts slightly as she surveys you, eyes sharp and intelligent. Then, with a slow, haunting hoot, she spreads her wings and launches off the branch, disappearing between the trees in a flash of blue feathers. @@.aurora;"She hunts around this time of day,"@@ Aurora says, smiling softly as she watches her go. @@.aurora;"Brings back everything from field mice to, once, a shoe."@@ @@.player;"A shoe?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.aurora;"Yeah,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Still don't know where she got it. It was my size, though, which freaked me out for a week."@@ @@.player;"You're joking,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.aurora;"Dead serious."@@ You walk along the wall, eyes scanning over the countless little artifacts. Each one has a story just waiting to be told. @@.player;"You've got a lot of memories in here."@@ @@.aurora;"I guess I do,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"It's kind of funny, actually. When I first built this place, I thought I was making a space to hide from everything. But over time, it just turned into somewhere I could remember everything instead."@@ You run a hand over a smooth bit of wood where the initials "A.R" have been carved into the wall. @@.player;"Yours?"@@ She follows your gaze and smiles faintly. @@.aurora;"Yeah. That was before I learned carving into magically reinforced wood dulls your knife instantly. Took me hours."@@ @@.player;"Seems worth it,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.aurora;"Maybe,"@@ she says with a small shrug. @@.aurora;"It's nice to see something that stayed the same."@@ The room creaks softly as the wind shifts outside. You notice how Aurora's posture has changed. It's more relaxed and open, her usual sharpness fading. @@.player;"You really come up here when things get bad?"@@ you ask. She nods, picking up a smooth river stone from a shelf and tossing it lightly on her hand. @@.aurora;"When things get hard. When I feel like I'm not enough. When I remember too much."@@ She sets the stone down again carefully. @@.aurora;"This place doesn't judge. It just... listens."@@ You sit down beside her on the old blanket, the floor creaking softly beneath you. @@.player;"It's a good place to listen,"@@ you say quietly. Aurora looks at you with her purple eyes. @@.aurora;"Yeah,"@@ she says after a moment. @@.aurora;"It is."@@ Then her smirk returns, playful and sharp again. @@.aurora;"You know, you should be honored. You're the first person I've ever brought here. Most people would've tripped one of the wards by now and ended up hanging upside-down from a branch."@@ @@.player;"''Please'' tell me that's a joke,"@@ you beg, glancing around nervously. She raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. @@.aurora;"Who knows?"@@ You can't help but laugh again. The tension that always seems to hang around her is gone now, replaced by something brighter. You realize that you're actually seeing her. Aurora Rowan. Not the cold, duty-bound mage, but the girl underneath who still knows how to laugh. The wind stirs outside again, carrying the distant hoot of Astraea somewhere deep in the forest. You sit down in front of the mirror, right next to Aurora. Aurora leans back against the glass, exhaling. @@.aurora;"You're not bad company, you know."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I try not to trip too many magical traps."@@ @@.aurora;"That's a start."@@ You grin, glancing around the little sanctuary again, and something about the air feels lighter now. It's clear that the space itself has welcome you in. <<button "The sun's setting" "Day 21 - 24">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D21Treehouse">>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ From the seat in front of the window, you can see everything. Crestview Bay stretches out toward the horizon, the blue line of the river threading through trees, the faint glimmer of rooftops catching the dying light. The sunset seems to set the clouds ablaze, the entire sky melting gold and rose and violet. For a long moment, neither of you speak. Aurora leans one arm against her knee, the light from the window brushing her face in warm light. Astraea glides past outside, wings stretched wide before perching on a branch nearby. She has a mouse in her beak. @@.player;"Do you watch the sunset often?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"As often as I can,"@@ Aurora says quietly. @@.aurora;"When the weather's clear, the view's amazing. It helps me remember why I'm still doing all this."@@ @@.player;"You mean the mage stuff?"@@ you ask, glancing sideways at her. She hums in agreement, eyes on the horizon. @@.aurora;"Protecting people. Watching over Crestview. Sometimes it feels like the world's asking too much of me. But then I come up here, and it reminds me that it's still beautiful. That it's still worth all the damn effort."@@ There's something unguarded in her voice that makes you hesitate before responding. @@.player;"You really love this little town, don't you?"@@ @@.aurora;"I do."@@ She exhales softly. @@.aurora;"Even with all its chaos."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Speaking of chaos..."@@ @@.aurora;"Oh no,"@@ Aurora says, turning toward you. @@.player;"Let's talk about the Circle,"@@ you say, grinning. She groans, dragging a hand down her face. @@.aurora;"$name, please. Let me have one quiet moment before you bring up the rogues' gallery."@@ @@.player;"Aurora, you are ''not'' getting out of this one,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"Come on, you've got to have thoughts. Especially after today."@@ She sighs dramatically but gives in, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. @@.aurora;"Fine, let's see. Amber's chaos. Confident, contained, cool chaos. She looks like she's got everything under control, but you can see the moment she drops the pretense of responsibility. Then you know there's going to be a problem."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, she seems like the kind of person who'd say 'trust me' right before something bad happens."@@ Aurora actually laughs, a warm sound that fills the little treehouse. @@.aurora;"Exactly! She's brilliant, though. Scares me sometimes how much she knows about magic, but she's been through a lot. When I mess up, she's usually the one who helps me pick up the pieces. She cares a lot, even if she pretends to be too cool to."@@ She smiles, shaking her head before continuing. @@.aurora;"Daphne's easier to manage, at least until she starts philosophizing. You can't win against her, I swear. You could argue that fire is hot and she'd still manage to convince you it's metaphorically cold."@@ @@.player;"She seems nice, though,"@@ you say. @@.aurora;"She is,"@@ Aurora admits. @@.aurora;"She's one of those people who actually makes you feel smarter by being around her. Though if you sit next to her too long, you'll start questioning the concept of sitting itself."@@ You laugh again, imagining it all too easily. @@.player;"And Noah?"@@ Aurora leans back against the wall, eyes softening. @@.aurora;"Now Noah's an adult. He's the best kind of steady, really. He keeps everyone from floating off into madness. You could drop a mountain on his shoulders and he'd just sigh, pick it up, and ask if anyone wants a warm drink."@@ @@.player;"Sounds like a good guy to have around."@@ @@.aurora;"He is. Gentle giant. He pretends not to notice how nervous everyone is when they first meet him, since he is huge. But he always goes out of his way to make people comfortable. Especially Milo. You should've seen how patient he was teaching that kid containment spells."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Speaking of Milo..."@@ Aurora immediately groans again. @@.aurora;"I knew it."@@ @@.player;"Come on,"@@ you say, trying not to laugh. @@.player;"He //is// kind of hilarious."@@ @@.aurora;"He's infuriating,"@@ Aurora says, but the smile tugging at her lips betrays her. @@.aurora;"I swear, half my job is keeping him from accidentally killing himself."@@ <<set $treehouseCG to true>>\ <<set $treehouseCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $treehouseCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $treehouseCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $treehouseCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_AuroraTreehouse">>\ You laugh. @@.player;"He's got this thing, you know. Whenever he's about to cast a spell, he makes these sound effects under his breath. Like 'whoosh!' or 'zap!'"@@ Aurora stares at you for a beat, then bursts out laughing, leaning forward and clutching her stomach. @@.aurora;"Oh my God. I thought I was the only one who noticed that!"@@ @@.player;"No way!"@@ you say, laughing too now, shoulders shaking. @@.player;"It's so obvious! He does it every single time!"@@ @@.aurora;"I know!"@@ she says between fits of laughter. @@.aurora;"I asked him why he did that once, and he said it helped him visualize his mana flow. Like he's narrating an action movie or something."@@ You both lose it at that, your laughter echoing off the wooden walls. Aurora wipes a tear from her eye, still grinning. @@.aurora;"He's ridiculous, but I wouldn't trade him for anything."@@ You catch your breath, still smiling. @@.player;"You really care about him."@@ She nods. @@.aurora;"I do. He reminds me of when everything still felt simple. Before the responsibilities and the guilt."@@ Her gaze drifts to the window again, to the sunset painting the bay in red and violet. @@.aurora;"I just want him to have a chance to stay like that a little longer. To make mistakes that don't ruin lives."@@ The quiet that follows feels heavy, but not sad. Just... honest, you suppose. You can see it now, how much she carries, how much she hides behind the serious facade she shows everyone else. @@.player;"You're doing a good job, you know,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"With him. With all of us."@@ Aurora blinks, a little caught off guard. @@.aurora;"You think so?"@@ @@.player;"I know so."@@ Her smile returns, small but sincere. @@.aurora;"Thanks, $name."@@ The last sliver of sunlight slips below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in a deep gradient of indigo and gold. Astraea is devouring a poor rat. The first stars begin to appear. Aurora sighs softly, leaning back on her hands. @@.aurora;"You know... I didn't think I'd laugh like this again for a while."@@ @@.player;"Glad I could help,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.aurora;"You did more than that,"@@ she says, looking out over the bay again. @@.aurora;"For tonight, at least, I feel like I can breathe."@@ You smile. @@.player;"We should come up here more often. Maybe next time, I'll bring snacks."@@ @@.aurora;"It better not be hot chips,"@@ Aurora mutters. @@.player;"What's wrong with hot chips?"@@ @@.aurora;"Your friend with the beanie always, and I mean ''always'', is munching on it,"@@ Aurora says with a loud sigh. @@.aurora;"I'll be watching over Crestview Bay and hear her nomming on snacks."@@ <<if $outfit is 5>>\ @@.player;"That sounds like Samantha alright,"@@ you murmur, chuckling. It's quiet for a while. Aurora absently turns a small charm between her fingers, her expression distant but peaceful. Then her gaze slides over to you, and it lingers for a while. @@.aurora;"That outfit really suits you, you know,"@@ Aurora says softly. You glance down at yourself, then back up at her with a grin. @@.player;"Yeah? Thanks. I, uh, got it from Shatterbox. Went shopping over at the mall a few days ago."@@ The moment the words leave your mouth, her posture stiffens ever so slightly. @@.player;"What's up?"@@ you ask, watching her shoulders tense as she looks away from you. @@.aurora;"Nothing,"@@ she says too quickly. @@.aurora;"It's just... Shatterbox, huh?"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"What's wrong with Shatterbox?"@@ @@.aurora;"Nothing's //wrong// with it. It's just that I, um, go there a lot."@@ She crosses her arms, trying to sound casual, but the pitch is a little too high. @@.aurora;"Like... a lot a lot."@@ You grin immediately, seizing your chance. @@.aurora;"Oh? So you're the mysterious Shatterbox regular who buys all the chokers and dark skirts."@@ Aurora groans and buries her face in her hands. @@.aurora;"Please don't."@@ @@.player;"I mean, it makes sense now,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"I always //did// wonder who was keeping that place in business."@@ You laugh as the two of you sit there in the treehouse window. The cool evening air brushes against your skin and the town lights glitter below. Aurora leans her head against the wooden frame, her smile gentle. For a moment, it feels like all the weight she's been carrying has lifted. It's a simple, fleeting kind of peace. But it's real. <<else>>\ You laugh as the two of you sit there in the treehouse window. The cool evening air brushes against your skin and the town lights glitter below. Aurora leans her head against the wooden frame, her smile gentle. For a moment, it feels like all the weight she's been carrying has lifted. It's a simple, fleeting kind of peace. But it's real. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 21 - 25">><</button>>

The sun has fully set, and the only light in the treehouse is from a small lamp. You and Aurora are still sitting near the wide window ledge, your legs stretched out across the wooden floorboards. The sound of the forest below has changed, and you can hear crickets chirping and the rhythmic creak of branches. Aurora sits beside you, her head leaning back on the window. Her expression is calm in a way you rarely see. @@.player;"So,"@@ you start, nudging her shoulder lightly, @@.player;"since we've covered everyone in the Circle, how about school next?"@@ Aurora groans. @@.aurora;"You mean the daily social disaster that is Pacific Crest High School?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say with a grin. @@.player;"That one."@@ She exhales through her nose, and you can't tell if she's amused or resigned. @@.aurora;"You ''really'' like tormenting me, don't you?"@@ @@.player;"People are kind of intimidated by you, you know,"@@ you say, laughing quietly. @@.aurora;"Oh, really?"@@ Aurora asks, arching an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"I hadn't noticed."@@ @@.player;"Come on,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"You know better than anyone the way you act at school. You've got this whole mysterious, untouchable vibe going on. Half the school thinks you're secretly a vampire."@@ Aurora snorts, actually laughing at that. @@.aurora;"It's cycled back to vampire? That's funny. I was a vampire in freshman year, a demon in sophomore, an alien in junior, and I guess I'm a vampire again."@@ @@.player;"There's also a rumor you can control lightning,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.aurora;"I can,"@@ she says, smirking. @@.aurora;"Just not in the way they think."@@ You pause. @@.player;"Wait, you can?"@@ Aurora's smile turns sly. @@.aurora;"Wouldn't you like to know?"@@ @@.player;"See?"@@ you say, throwing your hands up. @@.player;"That's //exactly// why people think you're terrifying!"@@ She bursts into laughter. @@.aurora;"$name, have you ever considered that I //like// the mystery? It keeps people from bothering me about homework."@@ @@.player;"I bet even the teachers are scared to mark you wrong,"@@ you comment. @@.aurora;"You're not wrong,"@@ she says with mock seriousness. @@.aurora;"Mr. Cross, from history, once changed an answer key instead of arguing with me."@@ @@.player;"No way."@@ @@.aurora;"Okay, maybe I changed the key after he left the room,"@@ she says, trying, and failing, to hide her grin. @@.aurora;"But the point still stands."@@ @@.player;"I ''swear'' I heard Vincent complaining that he got a 95 instead of a 100 on his test for no reason,"@@ you say. @@.aurora;"I might have forgotten to change the answer key back,"@@ Aurora says, laughing. @@.player;"I'm regretting climbing up here,"@@ you mutter, though you're smiling too. Aurora chuckles softly and looks out at the horizon again. @@.aurora;"You know,"@@ she says after a moment, quieter now, @@.aurora;"sometimes I wonder what it would've been like if I wasn't born with magic."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask. She shrugs, her voice slow and thoughtful. @@.aurora;"Just... what kind of person I'd be. If I didn't have this much weight on my shoulders. Maybe I'd be someone normal. Someone who got to care about the small things in life, like what makeup to buy or what clothes to wear. Hell, maybe I'd even sleep in on weekends."@@ @@.player;"You don't think you're normal?"@@ you ask, tilting your head. Aurora laughs softly. @@.aurora;"No one who can open portals to other dimensions is normal, $name."@@ @@.player;"Fair,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"But you're still //you//, and people like you for who you are. I think that counts for something."@@ @@.aurora;"You're too good at this, you know that? Saying the right thing."@@ @@.player;"I'll take that as a compliment,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.aurora;"Good,"@@ she says, leaning her head back against the wall. @@.aurora;"It was meant to be."@@ There's another long pause. You glance out the window and see Astraea. She's picked the mouse clean and now has a bone sticking out of her beak like a cigarette. @@.aurora;"It's just all kind of weird,"@@ Aurora says, chuckling to herself. @@.aurora;"I don't usually talk like this."@@ @@.player;"Like what?"@@ @@.aurora;"Like a normal fucking person,"@@ she says with a small laugh. @@.aurora;"Usually I'm lecturing someone about containment wards or chasing the monster of the week. Sometimes I forget there's more to life than magic. I've spent so long being careful, being responsible. It's like I forgot how to just... be."@@ You look at her, noticing the steady calm in her face. @@.player;"You're doing it now,"@@ you say quietly. @@.aurora;"What?"@@ she asks. @@.player;"Just being,"@@ you say with a shrug. @@.player;"In my humble opinion, you're doing a great job."@@ Aurora stares at you for a moment, then laughs softly in surprise. @@.aurora;"Don't ever stop being you, $name."@@ @@.player;"Wouldn't dream of it,"@@ you grin. The night settles fully now. The stars over Crestview Bay glimmer in the water below and the forest hums softly around you. You both fall quiet again, watching the constellations appear through the window. Aurora's voice breaks the silence one last time. @@.aurora;"Thanks for coming up here."@@ @@.player;"Well, thank you for inviting me,"@@ you respond. And with that, you sit beside her as the treehouse creaks gently in the breeze, the stars stretching wide over Crestview Bay. <<button "Continue" "Day 21 - 26">><</button>>

The ladder creaks softly as you and Aurora climb down from the treehouse, the air cooling with the coming night. The forest is dark now but alive with sound. You can even hear the faint rush of the bay in the distance. Fireflies drift lazily between the trees, glowing like fragments of starlight. Aurora lands lightly on the forest floor first and looks up at you with a wry smile. @@.aurora;"Careful,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"That second rung loves to slip if you put too much weight on it."@@ @@.player;"Good to know,"@@ you say, gripping it a little tighter as you step down. When you hit the ground, the dirt is soft beneath your shoes, and the air smells faintly of pine and salt. For a while, the two of you just stand there, looking up through the canopy at the patchwork of stars above. Then Aurora glances your way, a spark of mischief flashing in her eyes. @@.aurora;"Hey,"@@ she says casually, @@.aurora;"Want to launch a magic firework?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"A what now?"@@ She grins, brushing some hair behind her ear. @@.aurora;"Well, technically, under Mage Society Regulation Section 12-B Subsection Four, 'Unsactioned Magical Pyrotechnics within inhabited zones are prohibited.'"@@ @@.player;"Sooo,"@@ you say, giving her a look. @@.player;"No?"@@ @@.aurora;"Technically we're not allowed to, yeah,"@@ she says, then shrugs. @@.aurora;"But personally? I couldn't care less."@@ You laugh, shaking your head. @@.player;"Yeah, I don't care either."@@ @@.answer;"Good answer."@@ She snaps her fingers, and a small orb of white light appears between you. It hums faintly, soft and warm as it waits. @@.aurora;"We'll need to shape it first. Think of it like sculpting light, but with intent. Whatever emotion or image you focus on, that's what it'll become when it bursts."@@ You stare at the floating sphere, fascinated. The light inside it swirls like liquid glass. @@.player;"So I can make it into anything?"@@ @@.aurora;"Anything that fits in the sky,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"Just don't make it explode into, like, a fifty-foot sandwich."@@ You snort. @@.player;"No promises."@@ @@.aurora;"I don't wanna get in trouble, so you'd better not,"@@ Aurora says, laughing. @@.aurora;"Alright, then. What do you want it to be?"@@ You think for a moment, watching the little orb drift lazily between you, waiting to take shape. The forest hums quietly around you, the night cool and soft. Aurora stands close now, her eyes glinting with starlight and curiosity. @@.aurora;"Anything you make will show what you're feeling,"@@ she says softly. @@.aurora;"Magic always does."@@ You take a slow breath, feeling the mana in your bloodstream respond. It's gentle and fluid, like the tide just a few miles away. You could make something beautiful that really captures this moment. Aurora tilts her head, smiling faintly. @@.aurora;"Well? What'll it be, $name?"@@ You glance at her, then up toward the open sky. <<button "Set off a pair of intertwined hearts" "Day 21 - 27">>\<<set $d21firework to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D21_firework" "Set off a pair of intertwined hearts" "story">><</button>> <<button "Set off two mirrored stars that burst together" "Day 21 - 27">>\<<set $d21firework to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D21_firework" "Set off two mirrored stars that burst together" "story">><</button>> <<button "Set off a circle of six shimmering lights" "Day 21 - 27">>\<<set $d21firework to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D21_firework" "Set off a circle of six shimmering lights" "story">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D21Firework">>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d21firework is 0>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $auroraRomance to Math.clamp($auroraRomance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You hold the shimmering orb in your hands, the white light swirling within like a captured heartbeat. Aurora watches quietly, her dark purple eyes reflecting the glow. The forest around you is the kind of intense still that makes every breath and faint rustle feel meaningful. @@.aurora;"What are you thinking?"@@ Aurora asks softly. You glance up at her, then back at the orb. @@.player;"Something simple,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Something that means connection."@@ @@.aurora;"Connection?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Like when two people talk and things just click. When you can let down your guard and stop pretending so much."@@ For a moment, Aurora doesn't answer. Her posture eases, and a faint smile touches her lips. @@.aurora;"That's a nice thought."@@ You pour your mana into the orb, steady and deliberate. The light thickens, folds in on itself, and then divides in two. Two glowing threads spiral out, twisting together. Lavender and violet light weave around one another, pulsing gently. Aurora steps closer, eyes wide as she recognizes the shape. @@.aurora;"You're making..."@@ @@.player;"Hearts, yeah,"@@ you whisper. The two threads loop and tighten as they form a pair of intertwined hearts, each one bright and delicate. Their colors even bleed together at the edges where they touch, creating a beautiful shade of purple. It feels warm, soft, and alive. You lift your hand, and the twin hearts rise slowly into the air. They float upward through the trees, casting purple across the branches and casting on the mist that's begun to form. Aurora tilts her head back to watch, her face bathed in the glow. The hearts ascend higher, drifting over the treetops. They pulse a few times before bursting into a slow, shimmering bloom of light that rains down in gentle sparks. The air fills with color, little orbs of light drifting like petals in the wind. For a long moment, neither of you speak. Then Aurora quietly says, @@.aurora;"That was... beautiful."@@ @@.player;"You think so?"@@ you ask, glancing over at her. She nods, but there's something vulnerable in her voice now. @@.aurora;"It's strange, really. I've seen hundreds of mages and thousands of spells, but that—"@@ She gestures toward the sky where the fading light still hangs. @@.aurora;"That felt different."@@ You shrug, trying to act nonchalant even though your chest feels tight. @@.player;"Guess it's because I wasn't trying to show off. I was just trying to say something."@@ Aurora looks at you, her eyes warm. @@.aurora;"You're not like other mages,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You're not like other //people//."@@ @@.aurora;"A little bit of both,"@@ Aurora says, laughing. The hearts fade completely now, leaving the two of you standing beneath the start. The purple glow that was there just a minute ago is a memory now. Aurora folds her arms loosely, her eyes still on the sky. @@.aurora;"You know, when I was little, I used to make fireworks like that,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Not hearts, though. Mostly stars. I'd sneak out into the woods and set them off so no one would see. Not that there //was// anyone, anyway. I thought I was ''so'' brave for that."@@ @@.player;"Were you lonely?"@@ you ask. Aurora's lips part slightly, and for a moment, you think she might deny it. But then she sighs, the honesty slipping through. @@.aurora;"Yeah,"@@ she admits. @@.aurora;"I was."@@ The silence that follows isn't awkward. It's gentle, filled with the quiet hum of insects and the rustle of leaves. @@.player;"I don't think you're lonely anymore,"@@ you say. She turns toward you, the purple tips of her hair catching the starlight. @@.aurora;"No?"@@ @@.player;"Not anymore,"@@ you say, shaking your head. Her smile returns, small but sincere. @@.aurora;"You're right."@@ You both stand there, close enough to feel the quiet rhythm of shared breath, the faint brush of her sleeve against yours. The forest seems to glow just a little brighter, as if it's putting on a performance for the two of you. @@.aurora;"You know,"@@ Aurora begins, her voice soft but playful. @@.aurora;"That was technically a romantic spell."@@ @@.player;"Technically?"@@ you ask. She folds her arms, pretending to sound casual. @@.aurora;"Two intertwined hearts? That's kind of the definition of romantic. Intent matters, you know."@@ You take a half step closer, smiling just enough for her to notice. @@.player;"Then I guess my intent came through."@@ Aurora blinks, caught off guard. She quickly hides her mouth behind a hand, for //some// reason. @@.aurora;"Smooth."@@ @@.player;"Did it work?"@@ you ask, tone light but teasing. She looks away toward the sky where the hearts had burst, a faint laugh slipping out. @@.aurora;"Maybe a little."@@ The hearts have faded now, but the air feels different between you now. @@.aurora;"Come on, $name,"@@ Aurora says, her violet eyes glowing faintly in the dark. @@.aurora;"Before I start believing you actually know what you're doing."@@ Aurora's guard isn't gone, but it's slipping in your direction. <<elseif $d21firework is 1>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You roll the small orb of magic between your palms, feeling the hum of energy inside it. The light isn't steady as it flickers softly, pulsing white. Aurora watches, arms folded, her eyes reflecting the glow. @@.aurora;"So,"@@ she says quietly, tilting her head. @@.aurora;"What do you want it to be?"@@ You look up at the sky before speaking. @@.player;"Two mirrored stars."@@ Aurora raises an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"Mirrored?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"They'd be like reflections that look separate but move together. Same rhythm, same light."@@ Aurora studies you for a second before her lips curl into a knowing smile. @@.aurora;"That's rather poetic,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"Didn't know you had that in you."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Neither did I."@@ @@.aurora;"Alright then,"@@ she says, stepping closer. @@.aurora;"Let's see what you've got."@@ You focus on the orb in your hands, channeling your mana into it. It glows brighter and warmer, filling your chest with energy. The orb quivers once, then rises from your palms, floating gently upward until it hangs just above your head. It expands into two glowing spheres of light. One lavender and one violet. They hover side by side, spinning slowly in place like twin planets. @@.player;"It's actually working,"@@ you say, taking a step back and smiling. @@.aurora;"Not bad at all,"@@ Aurora hums, impressed. You raise your hand and send one final thread of mana into the air. The two lights drift higher, climbing above the treetops, then pause. For a heartbeat, everything in the forest stills. The rustling leaves freeze, the insects stop singing, and even the wind stops flowing. Then the stars burst. The lavender and violet spheres spiral toward one another, leaving glowing trails that twist like ribbons. They collide in the center of the sky, merging into a single, brilliant flash of light before separating into two perfectly synchronized stars. Their light washes over the trees in waves of soft color, painting the clearing in shades of amethyst and lilac. Aurora stares up, her face lit by the glow. @@.aurora;"Wow,"@@ she whispers. @@.player;"Guess I did something right,"@@ you say, grinning. She shakes her head slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips. @@.aurora;"No. You did something beautiful."@@ For a long moment, neither of you speak. The twin stars keep circling each other, fading in and out as they pulse. The reflection of the light dance across Aurora's eyes, softening her usual sharpness. @@.aurora;"It's funny how this feels so peaceful,"@@ she says quietly. @@.aurora;"It's like the world's holding its breath."@@ @@.player;"Maybe it's been waiting,"@@ you mutter. You both laugh softly as the mirrored stars begin to fade, dissolving before drifting back down. One lands on Aurora's sleeve and flickers faintly before vanishing. @@.aurora;"I like the way you think,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You've got a good instinct for connection, $name. Most people chase power or wealth, but you seem to chase people."@@ You look back up at the sky, where the void of the night sky has swallowed the last of the light. @@.player;"Connection is hard, but... it's what makes everything worth it."@@ Aurora hums in quiet agreement. @@.aurora;"Yeah. I think you're right."@@ You stand side by side for a while, just listening to the forest breathe. Finally, she breaks the silence with a teasing grin. @@.aurora;"That was technically illegal, you know,"@@ she says. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"What are you gonna do, arrest yourself?"@@ @@.aurora;"Tempting,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"But I //guess// I'll let it slide. Just this once."@@ @@.player;"Generous of you."@@ Aurora smirks, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. @@.aurora;"Don't get used to it."@@ You grin, falling into step beside her as the two of you start down the path through the woods. The fireflies glow faintly in your wake as the air hums with the final few traces of magic. You realize that you're just two people under the stars, walking home together without weight or worry. <<elseif $d21firework is 2>>\ You take a deep breath, feeling the quiet pulse of the mana orb floating between your hands. Its light ripples as it waits for intent. //Your// intent. Aurora watches with quiet curiosity, her arms folded. @@.aurora;"So?"@@ she asks. @@.aurora;"What are you thinking?"@@ You glance skyward. The forest canopy parts just enough for a wide stretch of stars, the faint shimmer mirrored in the orb. You think of the Circle. Of the laughter, chaos, and warmth that comes with it. Of the strange feeling of belonging that's been creeping in, whether you asked for it or not. @@.player;"I think I'll make something for everyone,"@@ you murmur. @@.aurora;"Ambitious,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"I like it."@@ You smile, and the orb brightens and turns lavender as you pour mana into it. The light thickens, deepens, and expands until it feels warm to the touch. Then you close your eyes and let instinct guide you. One by one, you imagine them. Amber, confident and mischievous. The spark that keeps everyone on their toes. Her light burns gold, warm and steady, a small flame that never goes out. Noah, gentle and grounded, whose laughter sounds like the earth itself humming. His becomes a deep forest green, rich and stable. Daphne, sharp-minded and compassionate, her magic a soft gray shimmer that carries thought and balance. Milo, the whirlwind of color and noise, the heart of the group. His light erupts in a chaotic swirl of pink, teal, yellow, and red that refuses to stay still. Aurora, the group leader and anchor holding everyone together. Her magic forms a deep violet glow that somehow feels like both dusk and dawn at the same time. And finally, your own. A strand of lavender weaves through t hem all, faint but unifying. When you open your eyes, the orb in your hands is trembling with color. Aurora's eyes widen slightly, reflecting the swirl of light. @@.aurora;"You're really doing it,"@@ she murmurs. @@.aurora;"All six of us."@@ You nod, focusing your mana and lifting the sphere toward the sky. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ The orb rises slowly, drifting past the treetops like a seed caught in a breeze. It stops suspended high above the clearing, and bursts. The explosion doesn't crack like a normal firework. Instead, it blooms. Six radiant spheres unfold like petals, each one shining in its own hue: amber gold, forest green, quiet gray, chaos rainbow, soft violet, and lavender. The colors dance gently in the night sky, rotating slowly around one another. They never collide, they just orbit, like planets around a star. The forest below glows faintly in their light. You can see the every drop of dew and ragged branch in six different shades. Aurora's face softens. For a moment, neither of you speak. Then Aurora exhales, her voice soft but full of awe. @@.aurora;"You really did make something for all of us."@@ @@.player;"We're a team, aren't we?"@@ you say, smiling faintly. She looks at you, the corners of her mouth lifting. @@.aurora;"Yeah. We are."@@ The lights drift higher, fading slowly into the sparks. Milo's chaotic swirl lingers the longest, refusing to fade out quietly. It flickers like a stubborn spark before finally dissolving with a little //pop//. Aurora laughs and shakes her head. @@.aurora;"Even the firework version of him doesn't know when to stop."@@ @@.player;"That just means it's accurate,"@@ you say. The last traces of lavender light fade from the air, leaving behind only starlight. The night settles again, peaceful and full of quiet magic. Aurora looks back at you, eyes glimmering faintly purple. @@.aurora;"You've got good instincts, you know."@@ You shrug lightly, still gazing at the spot where the lights disappeared. @@.player;"I just thought it'd be nice to make something that was about the people around us."@@ @@.aurora;"That's what real magic is,"@@ she says, almost to herself. @@.aurora;"Connection."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"Is that a quote?"@@ Aurora smiles. @@.aurora;"Maybe it is. Or maybe I just made it up."@@ For a while, you both stand there, listening to the forest breathe. The fireflies return, flickering around you. Somewhere in the branches, Astraea hoots softly, and the world feels strangely complete. When Aurora finally speaks again, her voice is lighter. @@.aurora;"You know, Section 12-B also says we're supposed to document and report any unauthorized magical activity."@@ @@.player;"Oh no,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"Guess you'll have to turn yourself in."@@ @@.aurora;"Guess I will,"@@ she says, smiling wider now. @@.aurora;"Good thing I'm the one who writes the reports."@@ You laugh quietly, shaking your head as the two of you start walking back toward the trail that leads out of the forest. The glow of magic still lingers faintly in the air behind you. Six tiny afterimages that'll never quite disappear. <</if>>\ <<button "Back home" "Day 21 - 28">><</button>>

The front door clicks softly behind you, and for once, you're smiling without even realizing it. The air inside the house smells faintly like tea. Your clothes still carry the scent of the forest, a mix of pine and grass after rain. You climb up the stairs and down the hall when you hear laughing. Loud, uncontrollable laughter from Lily's room. The door muffles it, sure, but it's still loud. Curiosity wins over exhaustion. You push open her door and see Lily sprawled on her bed. Her phone is propped up against her pillow. @@.lily;"Oh my God, Shelvin, no!"@@ she cackles, wiping a tear from her eye. <<if $lilyRelo > 35>>\ @@.player;"Lils?"@@ you murmur, confused. She sees you and beams. @@.lily;"Oh my God, $name, you HAVE to see this,"@@ she says, patting the bed frantically. @@.lily;"He just told his teacher that she got a calculus question wrong. I don't //know// calculus, but I'm assuming Shelvin is right. That's comedy gold."@@ @@.player;"Is this Little Shelvin?"@@ you ask. @@.lily;"Yes, and it's ''amazing'',"@@ she says proudly, as if she discovered fire. @@.lily;"I'm on season one, it just popped up on Neatflix. I am spiritually incompatible with people who don't think this is peak fucking comedy."@@ @@.player;"Isn't spiritually incompatible a little too far?"@@ @@.lily;"Maybe, but I didn't make the rules,"@@ Lily says, nodding very seriously. @@.lily;"Anyway, come sit down 'cause I'm not pausing it."@@ You cross over the room and she scoots over, making room. Her blanket is bunched around her like a cocoon. When you sit beside her, she immediately drops her head onto your shoulder. @@.lily;"You got home pretty late,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Had a good day?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"Really good."@@ She doesn't press, instead opting to just nudging your arm and unpausing the episode. @@.boy;"Actually, Ms. Ingram, probability theory does not support your life choices."@@ Lily howls and you laugh too. Not because it's funny, it's honestly not, but because //she// is. The whole room feels lighter with some soft, familiar laughter in it. @@.player;"This is so dumb,"@@ you comment. Lily grins. @@.lily;"Yeah, but it's our kind of dumb."@@ @@.player;"Okay fair."@@ A few minutes pass, both of you laughing as the absurd plot unfolds. Shelvin tries to explain relativity to a goldfish, corrects a university professor, and pisses off his grandma. Lily leans into you a little too much when she laughs too hard, and nearly spills some cheese chips. @@.player;"Careful,"@@ you tease. @@.player;"Are you trying to feed the bed?"@@ @@.lily;"Well, it's hungry,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"I'm just being a generous queen."@@ You grin. @@.player;"That's called laziness, not generosity,"@@ you say, grinning. Lily gasps. @@.lily;"Betrayed by my own family. Someone I share blood and DNA with. You'll regret this when the bed eats //you// next time."@@ @@.player;"If that's how I go, at least it'll be funny."@@ The two of you burst into laughter. When the episode ends, Lily flops back on her bed with a satisfied sigh. @@.lily;"I swear, that show is pure serotonin. Do you like it?"@@ @@.player;"Uhh,"@@ you say, trailing off. @@.lily;"C'mon,"@@ she says, looking over at you. @@.lily;"You like it too."@@ You hesitate for dramatic effect. @@.player;"I mean... I guess it's not the worst thing I've ever seen."@@ @@.lily;"Ha!"@@ Lily exclaims, grinning triumphantly. @@.lily;"Another soul converted to the Church of Shelvin."@@ @@.player;"Alright, alright,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"Start the next episode before I change my mind."@@ @@.lily;"Neatflix is already on it,"@@ she says, as it automatically goes to the next episode. As the opening scene starts, you lean back on your hands. The screen flickers between scenes of ridiculousness child-genius hijinks and heartwarming family lessons. After the weird day you had, this feels so... //normal//. Just you and your sister, laughing at a sitcom about a nerdy kid. @@.lily;"We should have a Little Shelvin marathon next weekend,"@@ Lily comments, yawning. You chuckle. @@.player;"I'm up for it if you make the popcorn."@@ @@.lily;"Hmm, I'll think about it."@@ <<button "Become a Shelvin Disciple" "Day 21 - Lily 1">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.player;"...Are you seriously watching //Little Shelvin?//"@@ you ask, staring. She doesn't even look up. @@.lily;"Yeah. Don't judge."@@ @@.player;"You're laughing at a show where the main joke is that a nine-year-old corrects people about math."@@ @@.lily;"It's funny!"@@ she protests, pausing the episode. @@.lily;"He just told his teacher that she got a calculus question wrong. I don't //know// calculus, but I'm assuming Shelvin is right. That's comedy gold."@@ @@.player;"You used to make fun of me for everything I liked,"@@ you comment, raising an eyebrow. @@.lily;"Yeah, but //you// liked the most random stuff. Belowtale or whatever it's called. That was cringe. This isn't."@@ You roll your eyes and sigh. @@.player;"Right. Forgot I can't win."@@ @@.lily;"Yup."@@ She hits play again, her laughter picking up instantly as Shelvin makes another bad joke. You linger for a second, but she's already gone, lost in her world of sitcom science jokes. @@.player;"Night, Lily,"@@ you say, backing out of the doorway. She waves halfheartedly without looking away from the screen. @@.lily;"Later, loser."@@ You shut the door gently and head to your room, shaking your head. <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ <<button "Nighttime besttime" "Day 21 - Masturbation 1">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Time for bed" "Day 21 - 29">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $bra to 69>>\ You stretch out on your bed, hair damp and skin warm from the shower. The clean sheets feel impossibly soft against you, and your body feels light for the first time all day. You don't feel like doing anything else, not today, at least. The calm is far too nice to break. The quiet hum of the world outside, the whisper of the breeze, and the faint creak of your desk chair. It all feels like a part of a perfect stillness you particularly don't want to disturb. You let out a long breath and roll onto your side, pulling the blanket up over your shoulders. @@.player;"Maybe another time,"@@ you murmur. Your eyes grow heavier by the second. The world blurs at the edges, colors softening into shadow and comfort. Within minutes, you're gone. Drifting off into a deep sleep. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 1">><</button>>

<<if $d21walkthought is 0>>\ <<set $auroraRelo to Math.clamp($auroraRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You find yourself thinking about Aurora as the rain slides down your umbrella. She's the reason you're out here, after all. The reason why your chest feels a little tighter than it should. You've spent so much time around her, but somehow, you still don't really //know// her. She's always been hard to read, like she built a wall around herself and then decided to live inside it. The way she talks, moves, and breathes feels deliberate and controlled. She can walk into a room and change the entire damn atmosphere without saying a word. Everyone feels the pull, the pressure, the quiet gravity she carries around. But when she's not performing, when she forgets to guard herself for just a second, you catch something else there. You've seen it once or twice, the weight she carries. Like she's holding too much of something she doesn't trust anyone else to touch. She'll cover it immediately, but you always wonder what she'd be like without all of that. The rain deepens around you, drumming steady against the umbrella. She's standing in the same forest as you right now, probably just staring off into the woods. You can't help but wonder what's actually under that calm, cold exterior. She's so careful all the time, but no one stays that put-together by accident. There's something beneath it. Fear, maybe, or guilt. Maybe it's not that she wants to be distant, maybe she's just scared of what happens if she lets anyone in. <<elseif $d21walkthought is 1>>\ You think about Amber as you make your way through the rain. The thought of her brings a kind of calm you can't really explain. There's something about her that makes everything feel less chaotic, like she knows exactly how to slow the world down. You remember the first time she called you "Prodigy." You thought it was a joke then, but part of you could tell she meant it. She never treated you like you were too young or too lost to understand things. She never talked down to you. When she gave advice, it was subtle yet meaningful. You wonder what she's going to teach you today. Every time you're around her, you learn something new. Whether it's a small trick, something about how magic works, or something about how //you// work. It's never what you expect, but it always sticks. The path narrows as you walk, trees dripping water onto your umbrella. You imagine Amber waiting somewhere just ahead, sitting cross-legged with a Thermos full of coffee, half-smiling. She might even tease you softly, if she doesn't go for Aurora first. Out of everyone in the magical world you've met, Amber feels the most real. Like someone who's already made peace with who she is and how she fits into all this. Maybe, someday, you can do the same. <<elseif $d21walkthought is 2>>\ You adjust your grip on the umbrella as your thoughts drift to Milo. He's probably bouncing off the walls somewhere, talking too fast and waving his hands around while Aurora sighs. You can picture it perfectly. There's something strange about those two. Aurora seems to always keep him in sight, always ready to step in the second he stumbles. You've seen the way her posture changes when Milo's around. Normally she's calm and distant, but something softens when he's there. It's subtle, but even the rare patience in her voice when he gets too excited says a lot. You don't really understand it. She treats almost everyone else like they're strangers. But Milo? He's like a piece of glass she can't let break. Maybe it's a mentor thing, or maybe it's something deeper. She gets this protective edge whenever his name comes up, like the world's full of things that might swallow him up if she looks away for a second. Aurora would never admit it, but sometimes you catch her watching him with this look, equal parts worry and pride, like she can already see the future rushing at him too fast. And Milo, for all his noise, seems to sense it. He always tries to make her laugh, to pull her back down when she's too far in her head. Will Milo be at this "Lumin Circle?" Probably. Wherever Aurora goes, he's never far behind, after all. <<elseif $d21walkthought is 3>>\ You tilt your umbrella and slow your pace as the thought of Madame Serena drifts in. It's strange how easily her name still finds you, even after everything that happened. You can just about see her again in your mind, the sly smile and the way her voice lingered on the edge between kind and dangerous. You wonder what in the hell she's doing right now. If she's out there watching somewhere, smiling at the mess she left behind. Her power felt different than Aurora's, older and more seductive, like something that knew it was supposed to be feared. The memory of her voice, sweet as honey, drifts through your mind. @@.serena;"The mirror will reveal your truth, piece by piece, until you learn."@@ <<if $transgender > 14 and $acceptance > 19>>\ You're kind of starting to understand what she meant. <<else>>\ What the fuck did she even mean by that? Reveal the truth? What truth is there to reveal? <</if>>\ You wonder if she's still in Crestview Bay, or if she's already vanished to wherever witches like her go when they're done meddling with people's lives. Maybe she's watching the rain too. Maybe she's watching ''you''. Part of you almost wants to see her again, just to ask why. Not for the $referto, but for what she saw in you that made her choose you in the first place. You know it wasn't random. Nothing about her ever was. You do your best to shake the thought and keep walking, but her voice stays whispering in the back of your head. <<elseif $d21walkthought is 4>>\ You don't think about anyone in particular. Instead, you just keep walking, the rain steady above you. The path winds between the trees, and all you can think about is how unbelievably strange your life has become. A few weeks ago, you were just a regular guy worrying about what game to play and what to eat for lunch. Now you're walking through a misty forest at sunrise, rain dripping down your umbrella, on your way to meet a bunch of mages. You still don't even know what "Lumin Circle" means, but apparently you're part of it now. Somewhere between the $referto, discovering magic, and accidentally learning that you're super talented, normal completely vanished. You step over a puddle and snort to yourself. @@.player;"Yeah. just another life in the day of $name."@@ The sound of your voice feels small against the quiet woods. Every once in a while, you still catch yourself waiting to wake up from all of this. To roll over, check your phone, and realize it was just some elaborate dream stitched together by stress and bad takeout. But it's real. The $referto, the magic, the glowing sigils that pulse faintly on tree trunks ahead of you. You've stopped trying to explain it. This world of magic is insane, but it's yours now. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 21 - 4">>\<</button>>

By the time you reach the bridge, the rain has picked up. The stones beneath your shoes are slick, dark with moss, and the river below churns noisily. You cross slowly, keeping your umbrella tilted. The faint hum of magic grows stronger with each step. Then you see it. A soft purple light glowing through the mist on the other side of the bridge. You follow it until you reach a small clearing surrounded by trees heavy with rain. In the center of the clearing, drawn perfectly into the ground, is a wide circle of purple light. Inside the circle sit a few familiar faces: Aurora, sitting cross-legged and perfectly composed; Amber, lounging comfortably with a steaming mug in hand; and Milo, who's trying to balance a glowing teacup on his head while grinning. But there are two people you don't recognize. The first is a woman who looks to be in about her late twenties, sitting with one knee drawn up and a book balanced effortlessly on it. She's striking, brown hair pinned loosely, eyes sharp behind round glasses. There's something about her posture that says she's half paying attention and half lost in thought. She glances up briefly as you approach, closes her book, and smirks faintly, like she already knows what you're going to say before you do. Next to her is a man who looks like he's in his thirties, tall and broad-shouldered. He's wearing a dark coat that's soaked at the edges, his expression calm but focused. Even from a distance, he looks intimidating. Definitely someone you wouldn't want to bump into in a dark alley. You stop just outside the glowing circe. The rain continues to fall around you, but not inside. The space within the circle looks untouched by weather. It's dry, warm, and softly lit by a light that doesn't seem to come from anywhere at all. Aurora glances up first. @@.aurora;"You made it,"@@ she says simply. Her tone isn't exactly welcoming, but there's a quiet approval hidden somewhere in it. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you answer, trying not to sound out of breath. @@.player;"Uh. I wasn't late, was I?"@@ Amber grins. @@.amber;"Right on time, Prodigy."@@ She gestures toward the glowing circle. @@.amber;"Come on in. It'll feel strange for a second, but I promise it's safe."@@ You take a hesitant step forward. The moment your foot crosses the edge, warmth spreads through you instantly. It's as if you stepped into a heated room after standing in the cold too long. The rain stops hitting your umbrella. You lower it slightly, blinking as droplets slide off the edge and disappear. The air smells faintly like herbs and ozone. It's so comfortable you almost fall asleep, you've never felt anything quite like it. @@.aurora;"That's a ward circle,"@@ Aurora comments. @@.aurora;"Keeps out the elements and keeps mana stable during gatherings. It's comfortable, too."@@ @@.player;"Right,"@@ you say, still staring at the dry grass beneath your feet. @@.player;"That's really cool."@@ There's an awkward silence. Everyone's looking at you expectantly. You realize you're still holding your umbrella despite the lack of rain. @@.player;"Um,"@@ you start, your voice uncertain. @@.player;"Where should I put this?"@@ You lift the umbrella halfway, not sure if there's some kind of magical umbrella rack you're supposed to use. Aurora doesn't even bother looking up at you. @@.aurora;"Just toss it,"@@ she says flatly. @@.player;"Toss it?"@@ @@.aurora;"Just anywhere."@@ @@.player;"Okay then,"@@ you mumble, and give the umbrella a small, awkward toss. It lands beyond the edge of the ward, instantly soaked again as the rain reclaims it. You stare at it for a moment, water splashing over the black fabric, then look back up. @@.player;"Cool."@@ Milo bursts out laughing, and Amber shakes her head fondly. @@.amber;"Don't know why you tossed it //outside// the circle, but whatever. You'll get used to it, Prodigy. The circle's rules are mostly 'don't think too hard.' But hey, since you're here, there are a few people you haven't met yet."@@ You glance between the two unfamiliar faces, the woman with the sharp eyes and the man built like a mountain, and nod. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Who are they?"@@ @@.amber;"Introductions //are// in order,"@@ Amber says, smiling over the rim of her mug. The woman with the sharp eyes looks up from her book and gives a small smile. @@.daphne;"I suppose that's my cue."@@ She tucks the book under her arm and stands with a kind of effortless confidence. @@.daphne;"Daphne Diaz. I transferred from the Bay Area up north. They said Crestview was understaffed, and after about ten minutes of hearing Amber and Aurora's reports, I can see why. Not that you weren't doing an admirable job, of course."@@ Amber chuckles. @@.amber;"Translation: she thinks we've been doing a decent job improvising."@@ Daphne lifts a brow. @@.daphne;"One might argue, following a Nietzschean perspective, that improvisation is still a kind of creation. Besides, every region has its rhythm."@@ She glances at you, her expression softening a little. @@.daphne;And you must be the one who's really talented. Amber mentioned you."@@ You try to smile without looking as awkward as you feel. @@.player;"That's me, I guess. $name."@@ @@.daphne;"Modest, I like it,"@@ she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. @@.daphne;"Modesty's usually the first thing magic takes away from people."@@ Before you can think of a reply, the large man beside her speaks up, his voice deep but gentle. @@.noah;"Noah Hashimoto,"@@ he says, offering a nod. @@.noah;"I handle most of the protection spells and groundwork. I'm from Miami. Had to get out of there, and figured California was as nice of a place as I could choose."@@ You shake his hand, a little surprised by how warm his grip is. He's got broad shoulders and a strong build, something that //should// make him intimidating. His eyes are kind, though, and there's a calm steadiness in them that puts you at ease. <<if $outfit is 5>>\ @@.amber;"Okay, Prodigy, before we get started,"@@ Amber says, tone warm but teasing, @@.amber;"when did you start dressing like you actually belong with mages?"@@ Daphne looks up from her book and smirks. @@.daphne;"There's something to be said about the aesthetic cohesion of a black outfit. Plato once said that beauty is the splendor of truth in the Symposium. Perhaps you're beginning to understand that."@@ @@.player;"I just thought it'd match the vibe,"@@ you say, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.boy;"You look like you stepped out of fantasyland!"@@ Milo says, grinning. @@.boy;"You've //gotta// teach me how to pull that off."@@ @@.noah;"You'll have to grow a few more inches first,"@@ Noah says, chuckling quietly. Aurora studies you for a long moment. Her violet eyes flick briefly over the outfit, and she smiles. @@.aurora;"It suits you,"@@ she says simply. @@.aurora;"Finally, someone around here with some taste."@@ The whole group laughs. <</if>>\ @@.player;"So,"@@ you say, glancing around at the small group. @@.player;"Are you both just here now? Like, assigned here?"@@ @@.daphne;"Pretty much,"@@ Daphne says, setting her book down beside her. @@.daphne;"Crestview Bay's been running light on personnel for a while. Only three stationed mages for an entire town. That's almost unheard of."@@ Amber sighs and tilts her head toward Aurora. @@.amber;"Yeah, it's been rough. For the past year, it's just been me, Aurora, and Milo keeping this area stable. Rift monitoring, leyline calibration, magical emergencies. Whatever it is, we've handled it."@@ @@.boy;"I once handled an entire mana surge by myself!"@@ Milo says, raising a hand proudly. Aurora corrects him. @@.aurora;"You called me crying halfway through."@@ Amber snorts into her tea. @@.aurora;"It has been... just barely manageable, though,"@@ Aurora states. @@.aurora;"Until now, that is."@@ @@.player;"Until now?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Why now? What changed?"@@ @@.aurora;"There's been an increase in magical disturbances around Pacific Crest,"@@ Aurora states, finally looking at you. @@.player;"At the high school?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.player;"At //our// high school?"@@ She nods. @@.aurora;"Yes. It was just small things at first. Mana fluctuations, energy discharges, strange emotional patterns. But they've been growing stronger. Too precise to be random."@@ Daphne leans back on her hands. @@.daphne;"When a place starts resonating that consistently, it usually means someone is channeling it."@@ Amber adds quietly, @@.amber;"We've been keeping an eye on it, but with all of us stretched thin, the council decided to send help before it becomes a bigger problem."@@ @@.daphne;"The thing we've noticed is that all the disturbances are centered around the school,"@@ Daphne says, leaning forward. @@.daphne;"We're not talking about a random rift or bleed here. This is deliberate. Controlled."@@ @@.amber;"Someone's doing it,"@@ Amber agrees. She's calm, but there's a note of unease in her voice you don't hear often. @@.amber;"A mage that strong could manipulate mana flow over a large radius. If they're experimenting or trying to open something..."@@ Noah finishes her thought. @@.noah;"Then containment's going to be difficult. Even with the five of us."@@ He glances at Aurora, then back at you. @@.noah;"You go to Pacific Crest, right?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah. Me, Aurora, and Milo. Why?"@@ Aurora meets your eyes. @@.aurora;"Because we need someone who's there. Someone who can sense the fluctuations as they happen. Someone we trust."@@ You blink, caught off guard. @@.player;"You mean me?"@@ Milo perks up beside her, nodding. @@.boy;"You're, like, the perfect fit! You already pick up on stuff before the rest of us do."@@ @@.amber;"You're gifted, $name,"@@ Amber says, smiling faintly. @@.amber;"You might not realize it, but your connection to magic is different. Since you're already at the school, you could help be our eyes and ears on the inside."@@ You shift your weight, trying to process what they're saying. @@.player;"You think someone at school is doing this?"@@ @@.daphne;"Every consistent pattern points to an intelligent source,"@@ Daphne says, tapping a finger on her knee. @@.daphne;"Magic doesn't organize itself into neat clusters, not like this. The way it's spreading is almost elegant. Elegant //and// dangerous. Whoever's behind it knows what they're doing."@@ @@.noah;"If that's true, it means they're building something,"@@ Noah says, folding his hands together. @@.noah;"Or preparing for something."@@ @@.aurora;"Whatever it is, it's big,"@@ Aurora comments. @@.aurora;"If we don't handle it correctly, the mana instability could spread through the leyline under the school. That connects straight into the town's network."@@ You feel your stomach twist. @@.player;"Meaning?"@@ @@.aurora;"Meaning the entire town could be in danger."@@ The circle goes quiet again. Amber sets her mug down, her expression serious now. @@.amber;"Which is why we'll need to plan carefully. We can't risk spooking whoever's behind it. They already know about Aurora since she doesn't exactly keep a low profile. But you, $name, they don't know about you."@@ @@.boy;"What can we do?"@@ Milo asks, frowning. @@.boy;"We can't just, like, wait around while someone's plotting to blow up the town."@@ @@.daphne;"We start by preparing the team properly,"@@ Daphne says, closing her book softly and looking straight at you. @@.daphne;"That includes him."@@ Aurora nods once. @@.aurora;"Agreed. He's already involved whether he realizes it or not. It's time we made it official."@@ @@.player;"Official?"@@ you ask. Amber leans back, her smile returning. @@.amber;"She means it's time to induct you into the Mage Society."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"What's the Mage Society?"@@ Daphne is the one who answers first. @@.daphne;"The Mage Society is the backbone of modern magical civilization,"@@ she says, her tone almost academic. @@.daphne;"A global network that keeps the practice of magic stable, ethical, and hidden from the general public. Every mage in the world is registered through it."@@ @@.noah;"Think of it like a guild system,"@@ Noah adds. @@.noah;"Each town with an active mage forms its own Circle, and all those Circles connect into the larger Society. It's how we share research, report disturbances, and make sure no one's using magic in the wrong way."@@ @@.boy;"Yeah!"@@ Milo exclaims. @@.boy;"We also keep track of rifts and magical accidents and all that! Without it, half the planet would've exploded by now."@@ @@.aurora;"It's what keeps the world safe,"@@ Aurora states, looking down at the floor. @@.aurora;"And what keeps people like us from being found."@@ You glance down at the glowing circle around your feet, realizing this isn't just a local club. It's part of something much bigger. @@.player;"So this meeting, this Lumin Circle..."@@ Amber smiles faintly. @@.amber;"It's a part of an old tradition. Every town or city with a mage presence holds one every lunar cycle. It's how we stay linked, how new members are welcomed in, and how we pass knowledge down."@@ @@.player;"So, it's not just some gathering,"@@ you say, trying to process it all. @@.player;"It's like the entire magical government."@@ Daphne smirks. @@.daphne;"If you call a democracy of stubborn people a government, sure. But yes, it's as close as we get."@@ @@.noah;"Don't let her scare you,"@@ Noah says, chuckling softly. @@.noah;"It's more about cooperation than politics. We look after each other."@@ @@.player;"And you want me to join that?"@@ @@.aurora;"Yes,"@@ Aurora states. @@.amber;"Formally, yeah,"@@ Amber nods. @@.amber;"Today's the day."@@ <<button "What's in it for me?" "Day 21 - 5">>\<</button>>

You look around at all of them, but one question weighs on your mind. @@.player;"Alright, but... what's in it for me?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"I mean, this all sounds huge. Dangerous, even. You're saying I'd be part of this Society thing, I'd have responsibilities, I'd be expected to do stuff. So what do I actually get out of it?"@@ Aurora's voice softens. @@.aurora;"Yeah, it is a lot,"@@ Aurora says quietly. She doesn't elaborate, but you can tell she means it. Milo jumps in immediately, as bright as ever. @@.boy;"It's //awesome//! You get a license. An actual mage license with your picture on it and a seal and everything! And you get access to spells that aren't public, like teleportation circles and illusion glamours and the whole archive of field reports. Oh, and you can go to the big Society gatherings, and they ''always'' have free food and fireworks."@@ He grins like he's describing a festival instead of a magic bureaucracy. @@.boy;"There's even a conference next month where everyone from California gets together! I'm totally dragging Aurora there."@@ @@.aurora;"You are not."@@ Amber chuckles, shaking her head. @@.amber;"There's truth to what Milo's saying, though. The Mage Society's all about connection. You'd gain access to the main archives: libraries, study portals, spellcraft research that most people never get to see. If there's something you want to learn, someone's already mastered it and can teach you."@@ @@.player;"So you're basically saying it's like school but cooler?"@@ you ask. @@.amber;"Yeah!"@@ Amber exclaims, grinning. @@.amber;"Less math, more runes."@@ That actually earns a small laugh from you. Noah shifts where he's sitting. His motion is slow and steady, like he's careful not to take up too much space. @@.noah;"It's also about community,"@@ he says, his deep voice surprisingly gentle. @@.noah;"You'd be joining a family of people who've all chosen the same path. We've all chosen to protect others, to understand the world better, to live honestly with what we are. When things go wrong, and they do, you'll never be alone in it. We've all got each other's backs."@@ @@.daphne;"You'd be joining history, too,"@@ Daphne comments. @@.daphne;"Every thinker who ever wrestled with truth and power would have envied a chance like this. Socrates said that the unexamined life isn't worth living, and the Mage Society exists so we can examine magic. Through it, we can understand who we are. You'll gain access to centuries of knowledge, art, and reflection. The Athenians called that pursuit arete, the striving for excellence of the soul."@@ You blink. @@.player;"So you're saying I'd get a soul upgrade?"@@ Daphne smiles. @@.daphne;"Perhaps if you study enough."@@ @@.boy;"It's gonna be a ''lot'' of homework,"@@ Milo whispers to you, snickering. @@.amber;"You'll get insurance too,"@@ Amber mentions. @@.player;"Insurance?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. Noah nods. @@.noah;"Trust me, it matters. I've seen too many young mages blow a roof off and have to pay out of pocket."@@ That gets a laugh from everyone. Even Aurora's mouth curves faintly at the corner. You smile, but the humor fades as you think about what this really means. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say after a moment. @@.player;"So... I get the perks. But what about the other side? You all said it's a lot. What's the catch?"@@ The laughter dies down. Aurora's eyes flicker toward you again, thoughtful, but she doesn't answer right away. It's Amber who ends up speaking first. @@.amber;"The catch is that it's a promise you can't really undo,"@@ she says quietly. @@.amber;"Once you're part of the Society, you're bound by its laws. You'll be expected to respond when help is called for, even if it's inconvenient or dangerous. It's not about heroism. It's about... responsibility and trust."@@ @@.daphne;"Plato, in the //Republic//, argues that justice is doing one's own work and not meddling in that of others. The Society challenges that idea, because isolation is impossible when magic is involved. Everything we do ripples outward. So yes. It ''is'' responsibility. A very big one. Not just to people, but to the balance of the world itself."@@ @@.noah;"It can and will be heavy, especially when you see what's at stake,"@@ Noah says gently, nodding. @@.noah;"But it also gives you purpose. I won't pretend it's easy, it never is, but it means something."@@ @@.aurora;"It means doing what no one else can,"@@ Aurora adds. @@.aurora;"It means accepting that you'll never get thanked for it, but doing it anyway."@@ You take a slow breath, your hand brushing over the glowing lines behind you. @@.player;"So basically, a ton of work, a ton of risk... but also a chance to be part of something meaningful."@@ Amber gives a soft smile. @@.amber;"Exactly."@@ She pauses for a moment before continuing. @@.amber;"If you don't want that, though. It's alright. We get it, it's not easy. We can still register you into the database as an independent mage. That means you'll still be acknowledged and protected under Society law, but you won't be bound to us or expected to take on responsibilities."@@ @@.aurora;"No one here will think less of you for saying no,"@@ Aurora says, nodding. @@.aurora;"It's a choice you should get to make for yourself."@@ @@.daphne;"Choice, after all, is the purest expression of will,"@@ Daphne states, gesturing toward the glowing circle around you. @@.daphne;"Aristotle called it prohairesis. It means that deliberate decision defines a person's character. Whether you join or not, the choice is yours, and it's meaningful either way."@@ What do you do? <<button "Yes, I'll join the Mage Society" "Day 21 - 6">>\<<set $mage to true>>\<<trackChoice "D21_mage" "Yes, I'll join the Mage Society" "story">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D21MageSociety">>\ @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you finally say. @@.player;"If this is what it takes to help, then yeah. I'll join the Mage Society."@@ Milo pumps his fist immediately. @@.boy;"Knew it! I ''knew'' you'd say yes!"@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"Don't sound so surprised."@@ @@.boy;"I'm not surprised,"@@ he insists, grinning. @@.boy;"I'm proud."@@ Aurora shoots him a look that's equal parts fond and exhausted. @@.aurora;"Milo."@@ Amber steps forward before the boy can ramble further. @@.amber;"Thank you, $name. You don't have to prove anything to us, but this means a lot. Having someone as talented as you who understands Pacific Crest from the inside will help more than you realize."@@ @@.daphne;"A commitment like this isn't small,"@@ Daphne states, nodding thoughtfully. @@.daphne;"But... that's how every great change begins. One person deciding the weight is worth lifting."@@ Noah smiles, his big hands resting on his knees. @@.noah;"You'll be fine. I can tell you've got a good heart, and that counts as much as any spellbook."@@ @@.player;"So this is really it, huh?"@@ you murmur, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"No turning back now?"@@ Amber gives a small shrug. @@.amber;"Technically you could, but few do. It really does become a part of you."@@ Aurora glances at you, her expression quiet. @@.aurora;"It's a lot of responsibility. You'll be expected to report anything you see at Pacific Crest, to study your control more seriously, and to stand with the Circle if danger comes."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you state. @@.aurora;"Alright then,"@@ Aurora responds. She lifts one hand, tracing a sigil in the air. The circle hums, brighter now, and from the light forms a parchment sheet and a pen. It floats gently between you. You blink. @@.player;"Wait. You guys use pens? I was expecting, like, a quill or something."@@ That earns a small laugh from Daphne. @@.daphne;"Modernity has its charms. Quills are hard to use and stains everything."@@ @@.boy;"Yeah!@@ Milo chimes in. @@.boy;"Last time I tried one, I stabbed myself."@@ Aurora mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like, @@.aurora;"That's because you tried to duel with it."@@ @@.amber;"Go on,"@@ Amber says, gesturing toward the form. @@.amber;"It's mostly symbolic. Your name, your Circle, your intent."@@ You take the pen and write your name. The ink glows softly before fading into the parchment, sealing itself. When you finish, Aurora steps closer and waves her hand. The form folds itself neatly, vanishing into light. @@.aurora;"It's done,"@@ she says quietly. @@.aurora;"You're officially part of the Lumin Circle of Crestview Bay and a registered member of the Mage Society."@@ Milo starts clapping way too loudly and Amber just smiles. Daphne gives you a polite nod of approval while Noah pats your shoulder. He tries to be gentle but it still nearly knocks you off the log you're sitting on. Aurora's tone softens. @@.aurora;"Welcome aboard, $name."@@ You look around at all of them and realize it feels different now. The rain still falls outside, but in here, you feel like you belong to something real. <<button "A registered mage" "Day 21 - 7">><</button>>

The last glimmer of light fades from the parchment as it dissolves into air. The purple glow of the Lumin circle steadies, soft and calm, like the magic itself is exhaling. For a moment, everything is still. You've officially joined the Mage Society. Aurora is the first to move. She straightens, and that familiar, serious tone she always has slips right back into her voice. @@.aurora;"Alright. Now that formalities are done, we can finally discuss the situation in Crestview Bay."@@ @@.boy;"You mean we can't even celebrate first?"@@ Milo groans. Aurora ignores him entirely. @@.aurora;"As I was saying,"@@ she continues, @@.aurora;"the disturbances around Pacific Crest are intensifying. I've already analyzed the leyline flow data, and—"@@ Amber raises a hand lazily, her tone playful but deliberate. @@.amber;"Hold that thought, fearless leader."@@ @@.aurora;"What?"@@ Aurora asks, blinking. Amber smiles, leaning back on her hands. @@.amber;"You've been talking about 'data' and 'disturbances' for so long now. We finally have our new member, everyone's together, and it's raining outside. Maybe, just maybe, we should do something fun for once?"@@ @@.aurora;"Amber, this isn't the time for—"@@ @@.amber;"Everything with you is never the time,"@@ Amber interrupts. @@.amber;"You've been wound tighter than a binding sigil all month. Let's just relax for five minutes before we dive into saving the world again, yeah?"@@ Aurora crosses her arms. @@.aurora;"You seem to forget that as the appointed head of the Crestview Bay branch, it's my responsibility to—"@@ @@.amber;"—make sure everyone's safe, yeah, we know,"@@ Amber finishes gently. @@.amber;"And everyone //is// safe right now. You've earned some time, Aurora. The world can wait."@@ Daphne glances up from her book. @@.daphne;"If the world //could// wait, I imagine it would've told us by now."@@ @@.amber;"See?"@@ Amber says, chuckling. @@.amber;"Even she's joking."@@ Daphne frowns. @@.daphne;"I wasn't joking."@@ Noah chuckles under his breath, and even Milo snickers. @@.amber;"Come on, Aurora,"@@ Amber coaxes, leaning forward now. @@.amber;"We've got two adults in their thirties—"@@ @@.daphne;"I'm twenty-nine,"@@ Daphne mutters. @@.amber;"—I'm in my twenties, and we just got a high schooler who signed his soul away to the Mage Society,"@@ Amber continues smoothly. @@.amber;"I think we can afford a break."@@ @@.aurora;"You're impossible,"@@ Aurora mutters, giving her a long, unimpressed look. Amber smiles widely. @@.amber;"That's the point."@@ The tension is strangely affectionate. You've already noticed the way Amber talks to Aurora, like she knows the kind of weight she carries. It's as if she's trying to quietly pull some of it off her shoulders without making a scene. Aurora exhales and her posture finally softens up a little. @@.aurora;"Fine,"@@ she says at last. @@.aurora;"Something short."@@ @@.boy;"Yes!"@@ Milo beams. @@.boy;"Finally! What are we doing? Wisp racing? Mana tea? Spell charades?"@@ Amber taps her chin, pretending to be in deep thought. @@.amber;"Hmm. You don't want any explosions or broken glass, right?"@@ @@.aurora;"Preferably not,"@@ Aurora mutters. @@.amber;"How about a Charm Crafting Workshop?"@@ Daphne perks up immediately. @@.daphne;"Ah, an excellent choice. In making a charm you bring together intention and form, the way Plato describes the intelligible form manifesting in the sensible world. It's a kind of harmony between the ideal and the material."@@ Milo blinks. @@.boy;"So it's arts and crafts, but deep?"@@ Daphne gives him a tiny, patient smile. @@.daphne;"Precisely."@@ Aurora exhales through her nose, half in resignation. @@.aurora;"If it keeps everyone focused, fine. Just make sure your charms are stable."@@ @@.amber;"See? You //can// have fun,"@@ Amber says, winking. She conjures a small table of glowing runestones, threads, and glass beads. @@.amber;"Alright, everyone. Make something that reflects your current mana. No pressure!"@@ @@.noah;"I'll probably just make something simple,"@@ Noah says, picking a piece of polished stone off the floor. You look down at the supplies, feeling a mix of curiosity and nervous energy. Threads shimmer faintly when touched, reacting to warmth and emotion. Milo's somehow managed to tangle his in three different colors already. Daphne's shaping hers delicately, whispering about "metaphysical resonance." Aurora, of course, works silently and efficiently. For a moment, the Circle is quiet except for the soft hum of mana and the sound of beads clinking together. It feels warm and peaceful, the kind of calm that doesn't happen often in your world anymore. Amber glances over at you, smiling. @@.amber;"Not bad for your first Circle, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"It's actually kind of nice."@@ Aurora doesn't say anything, but when you glance her way, you catch the faintest hint of a smile. What should you make? <<button "Make a Blooming Glass Orchid Charm" "Day 21 - 8">>\<<set $d21charm to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D21_charm" "Make a Blooming Glass Orchid Charm" "story">><</button>> <<button "Make an Echo Lily Charm" "Day 21 - 8">>\<<set $d21charm to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D21_charm" "Make an Echo Lily Charm" "story">><</button>> <<button "Make a Sourdough Bread Charm" "Day 21 - 8">>\<<set $d21charm to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D21_charm" "Make a Sourdough Bread Charm" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d21charm is 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Charm1">>\ You sift through the small pile of beads, wires, and glowing threads on the table, unsure what to make. Around you, the others are already busy. Aurora's hands move with calm precision as she threads silver light through a small metal frame; Amber's charm glows like soft candlelight as she hums under her breath; Milo's workspace looks like an explosion of color and glitter; Daphne's is neat and deliberate; and Noah is quietly shaping a rune into what looks like a stone pendant. You roll a small crystal between your fingers. It catches the light in strange ways, almost like it's breathing. That's when the idea of a flower comes to you. A glass orchid. You gather the materials slowly. Some translucent mana-thread, a few shards of clear mana-crystal, a tiny core of golden filament. You start forming the petals, bending the glass-like material with small pulses of heat magic. The pieces are delicate, shimmering like raindrops. Each petal catches your reflection, warped and soft. Milo leans over, eyes wide. @@.boy;"Woah, that's so pretty! Are you making a flower? Can I make one too?"@@ @@.player;"You can,"@@ you respond. @@.player;"But you ''have'' to promise not to make it explode."@@ He gasps. @@.boy;"Hey! For the record, I only exploded one potion last week."@@ @@.daphne;"Aristotle would say a single instance of error does not define the nature of the craftsman,"@@ Daphne says, amused. @@.daphne;"However, in your case, Milo, it might."@@ Milo blinks. @@.boy;"Did you just call me an error?"@@ @@.daphne;"Merely an enthusiastic variable in the experiment of life."@@ Noah chuckles. @@.noah;"You'll get used to it, Milo. Daphne's an in-house philosopher. I thought the other mages were exaggerating, but nope."@@ @@.daphne;"I prefer 'existential commentator,' but I'll allow it."@@ You smile at their banter but keep working, carefully attaching the petals. @@.player;"I think I'll call it a Blooming Glass Orchid,"@@ you murmur. Aurora looks up briefly, curiosity flickering in her eyes. @@.aurora;"Why an orchid?"@@ You hesitate for a second, trying to put it into words. @@.player;"Because orchids take forever to bloom,"@@ you say finally. @@.player;"They're slow and fragile, but when they do, they're different. I like how it changes itself, I guess."@@ @@.daphne;"That's beautifully put,"@@ Daphne says, setting her charm down and leaning her chin on her hand. @@.daphne;"Heraclitus wrote that change is the only constant, that one never steps in the same river twice. Your orchid, then, is a mirror of being, or rather, becoming."@@ @@.aurora;"It's fitting,"@@ Aurora says thoughtfully. @@.aurora;"You've adapted to more change in a month than most people do their entire lives."@@ You look up, surprised at the softness in her tone. She's being sincere, not distant. Noah gives you an encouraging nod. @@.noah;"That's a good choice, kid. Not just pretty, but meaningful. Magic like that tends to stay with you longer."@@ You glance down at your half-finished orchid, your fingers glowing faintly as you shape another petal. The magic feels responsive and alive, like it understands what you're trying to express. Each petal starts as clear glass, then slowly takes on faint color. Milo whistles low. @@.boy;"That's so cool. Mine just keeps turning into a ball of string."@@ @@.amber;"Milo, you're trying too hard,"@@ Amber says lightly, conjuring a small breeze to keep his materials from rolling off the table. @@.amber;"Magic responds best when you let it flow naturally. It wants to understand you as much as you want to control it."@@ Daphne nods. @@.daphne;"The ancient Greeks used to call that 'metaxy.' It's the space where the divine and mortal, where understanding meets desire. It's where art happens."@@ Aurora looks at her, one eyebrow raised. @@.aurora;"You have a philosophical concept for everything."@@ @@.daphne;"Only the relevant ones,"@@ Daphne replies smoothly. Noah finishes his stone pendant, carving the final rune with one large, careful thumb. @@.noah;"I like how you think, $name. That flower's got heart. Magic should mean something personal. Too many people just focus on power."@@ You pause, watching how the glow of the orchid shifts softly in your hands. @@.player;"I don't think I could make something that didn't mean anything. I guess I needed a reminder that growth, even when it's slow, can still be beautiful."@@ @@.amber;"That's exactly what a charm should be,"@@ Amber says, expression softening. @@.amber;"A reflection of the maker."@@ Milo finishes tying his own messy creations, a tangle of rainbow cords and glittering motes, and holds it up proudly. @@.boy;"Mine's chaotic! Like me!"@@ Daphne peers over. @@.daphne;"It looks like entropy."@@ @@.boy;"Thanks!"@@ Milo says, grinning. Daphne sighs. @@.daphne;"That wasn't a compliment."@@ You finally attach the last petal and weave a thin silver thread through the orchid's stem. When it's done, you hold it up. The charm shimmers in your palm, the petals alive with shifting colors. It's delicate, imperfect, but completely yours. Aurora leans slightly closer, her voice soft. @@.aurora;"It's beautiful."@@ The orchid's glow pulses once in your hand, as if agreeing. <<elseif $d21charm is 1>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Charm2">>\ You look over the piles of materials spread out across the glowing table. Threads that shimmer like moonlight, small beads, tiny crystals humming faintly with mana, and more. Everyone around you is already working on their own creations: Aurora's is neat and perfect, Amber's glows like warm sunlight, Daphne's looks like a philosophy thesis turned into jewelry, Milo's is colorful chaos, and Noah's hands move around a stone with slow precision. You pick up a smooth piece of glass and hold it to the light. It hums faintly in your palm, resonating with your mana. The sound reminds you of something soft and distant. A laugh, maybe, or a memory you can't quite catch. That's when the idea hits you. An Echo Lily charm. You remember Lily, your fiery little sister who's impossible to shut up when she gets going. The way she always teased you, threw little punches on your arm, yelled from the other room just to make sure you heard her. You think about how quiet it's been without her around right now, how much you'd give to hear that noise again. You start working. The charm's base is a translucent crystal petal. You carve faint runes along the edge, each one a small loop meant to catch sound and memory. You hum quietly under your breath as you do it. It's not a song, but rather the shape of her voice in your mind. Every few seconds, the crystal flickers with light, responding to the memory. Milo leans over, eyes bright. @@.boy;"Woah, that's really pretty! What's it gonna be?"@@ @@.player;"An Echo Lily,"@@ you say, smiling softly. @@.player;"It's supposed to capture a sound, like laughter, and hold it."@@ Milo tilts his head. @@.boy;"So it's like a magical voice recorder?"@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Yeah, I guess so. But prettier."@@ Daphne glances up from her own charm. @@.daphne;"Ah, how poetic. Echo as remembrance. The Greeks saw memory as the soul's proof of existence. You're crafting nostalgia into form, and that's rather beautiful."@@ @@.player;"It's not that deep,"@@ you murmur, blushing faintly. @@.daphne;"Oh, but it is,"@@ Daphne replies, a small smile tugging at her lips. @@.daphne;"Aristotle said that memory is the scribe of the soul. What you're doing is writing a memory into being. One that doesn't fade."@@ Noah chuckles, looking up from his own work. @@.noah;"Don't mind her, $name. I've figured out that that's her way of saying she likes it."@@ @@.amber;"She's right, though,"@@ Amber adds, watching your hands carefully shape the petals. @@.amber;"That's one of the oldest charms. They say echo charms pick up the emotion behind sound. If you make it with love, it'll hum with warmth instead of noise."@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"Then I'll make sure it hums right."@@ Aurora glances over, her tone calm but curious. @@.aurora;"Who are you making it for?"@@ @@.player;"My sister,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Lily."@@ Milo grins. @@.boy;"Aww, that's sweet! I should make one for my grandma! She used to throw shoes at me!"@@ @@.daphne;"Your relationship dynamic must be... unique,"@@ Daphne says, sighing softly. Everyone chuckles, but you stay quiet for a moment, focused on shaping the final petal. The memory of Lily fills your head. Her shouting at you from down the hall, her pretending not to care when she actually did, the warmth under all the noise. You channel that into your mana. The crystal responds with a faint red glow, and for a moment, you swear you hear a tiny echo of a laugh. You freeze, blinking. The sounds fades almost instantly, but it leaves something in the air. A certain warmth and comfort you can't quite explain. @@.noah;"You okay?"@@ Noah asks, noticing your expression. You nod, still looking at the charm. @@.player;"Yeah. I'm just surprised that it actually worked."@@ @@.aurora;"That's pretty advanced spellwork,"@@ Aurora says, inspecting the runes with quiet approval. @@.aurora;"You tuned the mana perfectly."@@ @@.amber;"Could be instinct,"@@ Amber says with a knowing smile. @@.amber;"Family memories are strong anchors. You did something most people can't on their first try."@@ Daphne hums, clearly impressed. @@.daphne;"In a way, you've touched on the metaphysical argument of essence, preserving presence through resonance. Beautifully done."@@ @@.boy;"I said it was pretty first!"@@ Milo says, frowning. @@.boy;"You guys are just copying me."@@ Laughter follows, and you even catch Aurora's expression lightening just a little. You hold the charm up to the light. The translucent petals shimmer faintly, glowing with soft hues of red and gold. It hums rhythmically, almost like a heartbeat. You smile. @@.player;"Guess she's still yelling at me somewhere."@@ @@.amber;"That's how you know it's real,"@@ Amber states. @@.aurora;"Keep it close,"@@ Aurora says, nodding. @@.aurora;"You made that from a good place."@@ You slip the Echo Lily into your pocket, and from somewhere deep, you hear the faint echo of laughter. <<elseif $d21charm is 2>>\ <<grantAchievement "D21Charm3">>\ You stare down at the glowing materials spread across the table, trying to think of what to make. Aurora's charm is intricate and symmetrical. Daphne's looks like something that belongs in a museum. Amber's hums with golden light, warm and calm. Milo's already got glitter stuck to his face. And Noah's messing with a rock. You, though... you're hungry. A mischievous thought hits you, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you start shaping the materials. You gather some amber glass for color, a soft thread of mana that smells faintly of yeast, and a rune stone etched with warmth. With a quick focus of intent, you begin weaving the spell. The table hums faintly as something golden and fluffy takes shape. When the glow fades, you're holding a small, perfectly round charm that looks suspiciously like a miniature loaf of bread. Amber blinks. @@.amber;"$name... is that bread?"@@ @@.player;"Yup!"@@ you say proudly. @@.player;"Sourdough bread."@@ Milo gasps as if you just discovered electricity. @@.boy;"No way! That's awesome! Wait, does it smell like it too?"@@ You grin and give it a small squeeze. Instantly, the warm, tangy scent of freshly baked sourdough fills the air. Everyone freezes. Noah leans forward, a smile on his face. @@.noah;"Well, I'll be damned. It does smell amazing."@@ Daphne tilts her head, intrigued. @@.daphne;"Fascinating. Symbolism through sensory conjuration. The scent alone must hold significant emotional resonance for you. Comfort, perhaps? Home? A metaphor for—"@@ @@.player;"It's bread,"@@ you interrupt, smiling sheepishly. @@.player;"I just like sourdough. I wanted to smell it."@@ A pause. Amber blinks. @@.amber;"That's it?"@@ @@.player;"Pretty much."@@ Aurora sighs quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose. @@.aurora;"You realize this was supposed to be a symbolic reflection of your mana?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"I like bread."@@ Milo bursts out laughing. @@.boy;"That's so you! You joined a mystical society and immediately made lunch!"@@ @@.noah;"Honestly, it's refreshing,"@@ Noah says, chuckling. @@.noah;"Everyone else tries to make something profound, and you just made something that makes people happy."@@ Daphne smiles faintly, clearly amused. @@.daphne;"Epicurus would've adored you. He believed simple and honest pleasure was the key to a balanced life. You've captured that perfectly."@@ Aurora gives her a sidelong look. @@.aurora;"You're //seriously// comparing a loaf of bread to philosophical enlightenment?"@@ @@.daphne;"If it fits,"@@ Daphne comments, shrugging. Amber laughs softly. @@.amber;"I'm with her. It's harmless, charming, and the place smells fantastic now."@@ You hold up the charm proudly. @@.player;"See? It's useful! Now we can have the smell of sourdough anytime."@@ @@.boy;"Can you make a cinnamon roll next?"@@ Milo asks, leaning over. Aurora groans quietly. @@.aurora;"This is why I hesitate to let anyone 'relax.'"@@ @@.noah;"Hey, leader, maybe you should try it,"@@ Noah says, chuckling. Aurora doesn't reply, but the corner of her mouth twitches before she hides it behind a sigh. You set the tiny loaf down on your lap. It gives off a steady warmth, like it just came out of the oven. The circle smells like a bakery now. @@.amber;"Mmmmm,"@@ Amber says, leaning back with her eyes half-closed. @@.amber;"You know what, $name? I think this might be the best charm anyone's made all day."@@ Daphne nods approvingly. @@.daphne;"Indeed. It may not sing or glow, but it nourishes in spirit."@@ Milo grins. @@.boy;"It nourishes my nose!"@@ @@.aurora;"This better not become tradition,"@@ Aurora mutters. @@.aurora;"I'll blame you."@@ You can't help laughing. @@.player;"Fine by me. I'll be the bread mage."@@ @@.noah;"There are worse titles to have,"@@ Noah says. He claps your shoulder, careful not to crush you. The table fills with laughter again, and it seems like the scent of fresh bread really did soften everyone's edges. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 21 - 9">><</button>>

The table is a constellation of tiny lights and colors. Everyone's finished now, and the magic lingering around the Lumin Circle feels warmer than before. Amber leans forward, her chin resting in her hand, and surveys the table with a catlike grin. @@.amber;"Alright!"@@ she says, her tone playful. @@.amber;"Let's see what the brightest minds of Crestview Bay have created. Show and tell, people. Who's first?"@@ @@.boy;"I'll go!"@@ Milo blurts immediately, practically bouncing in his seat. His hands shoot up so fast that one of his beads rolls off the table. @@.boy;"Pick me, pick me!"@@ Amber laughs. @@.amber;"I wasn't aware this was a competition, but sure, go ahead, Milo."@@ Milo beams and proudly holds up his creation, or what might generously be called one. It's a tangled mess of rainbow threads knotted together, with glittering motes floating around it in chaotic orbits. The entire thing hums with an unpredictable pulse, like it's not sure whether to sparkle or explode. Amber raises an eyebrow. @@.amber;"That's... rather colorful."@@ @@.boy;"It's a Friendship Ward!"@@ Milo announces, chest puffed out. @@.boy;"Or maybe an Anti-Boredom Charm! I'm still deciding!"@@ Noah squints, his large frame leaning slightly over the table to get a better look. @@.noah;"You sure that thing's not going to eat the table?"@@ Milo gasps dramatically. @@.boy;"Noah! Don't insult her, she's delicate!"@@ @@.amber;"She?"@@ Amber repeats, grinning. @@.amber;"You gendered your charm?"@@ @@.boy;"She's got personality!"@@ Milo says, gesturing emphatically. @@.boy;"Look, she hums when she's happy!"@@ Aurora, sitting across the table with perfect posture and a faintly pained expression, tilts her head. @@.aurora;"That's not humming. That's a mana destabilization tone."@@ Milo waves a hand dismissively. @@.boy;"Same thing!"@@ There's a faint //pop!// and one of the glitter motes bursts into confetti. @@.aurora;"It's ''literally'' volatile,"@@ Aurora says, pinching the bridge of her nose. Amber smirks. @@.amber;"Well, to be fair, so is he."@@ Everyone laughs. Hell, even Aurora's lips twitch, though she immediately hides it by pretending to inspect her nails. @@.boy;"See?"@@ Milo says, delighted. @@.boy;"She's fine! Personality, energy, a little danger. Just like me!"@@ Daphne smiles faintly. @@.daphne;"Heraclitus would approve. He said that all things are in flux, and harmony comes from the tension of opposites. Your charm, then, is a perfect manifestation of chaos striving toward unity."@@ Milo blinks, considering this for a full two seconds. @@.boy;"...Thanks! I think?"@@ @@.amber;"She means it's pretty, Milo,"@@ Amber comments, snickering. @@.boy;"Oh!"@@ he beams again. @@.boy;"Then yeah, thanks!"@@ Amber gestures across the table. @@.amber;"Alright, philosopher queen, you're up next. Show us yours."@@ Daphne sits straighter. Her charm gleams softly, a small spiral of black and silver glass, the light shifting within it like a reflection caught in water. It's simple but intricate, and the moment she places it on the table, the air around it stills. It's as if it commands quiet by existence alone. @@.daphne;"This is an Equilibrium Charm,"@@ she begins. @@.daphne;"It hums faintly when it's bearer's mind and mana fall out of balance."@@ Milo squints at it, his face scrunching in confusion. @@.boy;"So... like, a magical fidget spinner?"@@ Daphne actually laughs. @@.daphne;"In a sense, yes. Though I prefer to to think of it as a metaphysical mirror."@@ @@.amber;"What philosophy lecture are we getting with this one?"@@ Amber asks, grinning. @@.daphne;"Balance, of course,"@@ Daphne says, eyes glinting. @@.daphne;"Aristotle said virtue lies in the mean, the balance between excess and deficiency. My charm embodies that principle. When emotion or power overextends, it vibrates, reminding the mage to recenter."@@ Noah nods approvingly. @@.noah;"That's actually really practical."@@ Milo pokes it lightly and immediately yelps when it lets off a faint vibration. @@.boy;"It buzzed at me!"@@ Daphne smirks. @@.daphne;"Then perhaps your energy was... excessive."@@ @@.amber;"Translation: you're too hyper, Milo,"@@ Amber says, laughing. He gasps in mock offense. @@.boy;"I'm not hyper! I'm just—"@@ The charm buzzes again. Everyone bursts into laughter. Even Aurora hides a tiny smile behind her hand. @@.amber;"Okay, okay, that was worth it,"@@ Amber says, wiping a tear from her eye. @@.amber;"Who's next?"@@ Noah raises a hand. @@.noah;"Might as well be me."@@ He holds up his creation. It's a small, round stone pendant carved with gentle precision with golden veins pulsing faintly through it. It looks sturdy, unshakable, and almost alive. @@.noah;"Protection charm. Basic structure, but solid. Keeps negative mana from building up around the wearer."@@ Daphne studies it. @@.daphne;"Simple form, powerful intent. Plato would say it reflects the Form of Strength. Not brute force, no, but harmony in resilience."@@ @@.noah;"I'll take your word for it,"@@ Noah says, chuckling. @@.noah;"But I just wanted something that'd keep people safe."@@ Amber smiles softly. @@.amber;"That's very you, Noah. Quiet, grounded, and dependable."@@ He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck. @@.noah;"Someone's gotta be the wall when things go sideways."@@ @@.boy;"It's so cool!"@@ Milo exclaims, clearly impressed by the pendant. @@.boy;"You could, like, bonk someone with it too if it came down to it!"@@ Amber shakes her head, amused. @@.amber;"Violence as a secondary feature. Very tactical, Milo."@@ @@.noah;"It's called multi-functionality,"@@ Noah says, laughing quietly. Daphne hums thoughtfully. @@.daphne;"As Lao Tzu wrote, 'The soft overcomes the hard; the gentle overcomes the rigid.' You, Noah, are living proof of that."@@ @@.noah;"Thanks,"@@ he replies, chuckling. Amber leans back, looking around the table. @@.amber;"Alright. We've seen chaos, balance, and protection. That leaves..."@@ She turns to Aurora, her smile turning knowing. @@.amber;"Our fearless leader."@@ Aurora's finger tighten slightly around whatever she's holding. @@.aurora;"It's not necessary,"@@ she says immediately, her voice calm but clipped. @@.amber;"Oh?"@@ Amber asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.amber;"It's very necessary, actually. Everyone shows off their charm. You don't get to assign homework and then skip class."@@ @@.aurora;"I didn't even //want// to do this."@@ Aurora's expression barely shifts, but her shoulders tense. @@.aurora;"Plus, it isn't finished,"@@ she says, a little too quickly. Daphne smiles faintly, leaning her cheek on her hand. @@.daphne;"Perfectionism, the most insidious of the virtues."@@ Milo bounces in his seat. @@.boy;"C'mon, Aurora! I bet yours is, like, next-level amazing! You probably made something that levitates and sings or summons coffee out of nowhere!"@@ @@.amber;"That would actually be impressive,"@@ Amber muses. @@.amber;"You could save me a fortune on caffeine."@@ Aurora exhales slowly through her nose, visibly trying not to show emotion. @@.aurora;"This isn't about showing off. It's an exercise in focus."@@ Amber rests her chin in her hand, her tone turning gentle but teasing. @@.amber;"You do realize focus doesn't mean you're not allowed to have fun, right?"@@ Aurora doesn't respond. She looks down at her work, fingers tracing the charm's surface like she's debating whether it's even worth sharing. @@.amber;"Hey,"@@ Amber says, softening her voice further. @@.amber;"No one's grading you. We're just curious."@@ Aurora's gaze flicks to her for a brief second. It's sharp at first, then uncertain. There's something vulnerable in her hesitation, something you don't usually see from her. Finally, she takes a slow breath, lifts her hand, and places the charm on the table. The air seems to shift the moment it touches the surface. It's a crystalline pendant shaped like a snowflake. Symmetrical and intricate, yes, but not rigid. Tiny threads of light pulse within it, fading from pale blue to white and back again. It's almost like a heartbeat captured in ice. Each arm of the snowflake has a different rune etched into it, forming a network of perfect geometry. Milo stares, completely mesmerized. @@.boy;"Woah. That's not fair! Yours looks like it came out of a museum."@@ @@.daphne;"It's exquisite,"@@ Daphne says, leaning forward, her voice softer now. @@.daphne;"The precision alone must've taken immense focus. But there's a softness to it too, structure without sterility. That's rare."@@ Aurora looks away, as if embarrassed by the praise. @@.aurora;"It's a mana regulator. It stabilizes overflows and prevents distortion in casting. Nothing more."@@ @@.amber;"Nothing more, huh?"@@ Amber says, gesturing toward the pendant. @@.amber;"You can tell a lot about someone by the way their magic behaves. Yours is elegant, deliberate, but not cold. Not really."@@ @@.aurora;"It's practical."@@ Noah smiles, his deep voice kind and grounding. @@.noah;"Practical doesn't mean impersonal. You made something steady that holds together when everything else breaks. That says a lot."@@ For a moment, Aurora doesn't reply. Her gaze drifts to the glowing snowflake again, expression unreadable. @@.aurora;"It's not about me,"@@ she says finally. @@.aurora;"It's about the Circle. About the Mage Society. If I lose control, people get hurt. It's... easier to make things that can't fail."@@ Amber studies her for a long moment, then smiles softly in understanding. @@.amber;"You know, there's a difference between leading and carrying. You don't have to do everything by yourself, Aurora. We're here too."@@ Aurora blinks, clearly thrown off by sincerity. @@.aurora;"Amber—"@@ @@.amber;"No, really,"@@ Amber says, resting a hand on the table. @@.amber;"You do everything by the book, always staying calm. But I think you sometimes forget that leadership isn't //about// control. It's about trust. You can loosen your grip and the world won't fall apart."@@ For a long moment, Aurora just looks at her. Then, slowly, she exhales. It's a real breath this time, one that actually seems to ease the tension in her shoulders. When she speaks again, her voice is quieter. @@.aurora;"You make it sound easy."@@ Amber grins. @@.amber;"Oh, it's not. But you're surrounded by people who don't mind helping you figure it out."@@ @@.boy;"Yeah!"@@ Milo exclaims, giving her a double thumbs-up. @@.boy;"You're like, the coolest serious person ever!"@@ @@.daphne;"Even Plato understood that virtue must be practiced in community,"@@ Daphne adds with a smile. @@.daphne;"Perfection in isolation breeds imbalance."@@ Aurora gives her a long look. @@.aurora;"You just quoted Plato to tell me to chill out."@@ @@.daphne;"I find it effective,"@@ Daphne says, completely unbothered. Noah chuckles. @@.noah;"Hey, if it works, it works."@@ Aurora sighs, but you can see a curve at the corner of her mouth. @@.aurora;"You're all insufferable."@@ @@.amber;"Isn't that why you keep us around?"@@ Amber asks, smirking. @@.aurora;"Regrettably, yes,"@@ Aurora says dryly. But this time, when she looks down at her charm again, the glow seems softer. Milo leans forward eagerly. @@.boy;"Can I touch it?"@@ @@.aurora;"No,"@@ Aurora says immediately, then hesitates. @@.aurora;"...Maybe later."@@ Amber laughs. @@.amber;"Look at that! She's growing already."@@ The tension in the room dissolves, replaced by easy laughter. Even Aurora laughs. She's quiet at first, then starts opening up. It's the kind of laugh you can tell she doesn't let herself have often. For the first time since the meeting started, she isn't the perfect, untouchable leader of the Crestview Bay branch. She's just Aurora, a girl surrounded by friends, her snowflake charm pulsing faintly on the table with a tiny, beating heart. <<button "Heartbeat" "Day 21 - 10">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D21LilyFamiliar">>\ You and Lily have been sitting there for over an hour, wrapped in the soft flickering glow of her phone screen. The next episode of //Little Shelvin// plays, and this time this tiny prodigy is standing in front of a pet shop tank. He's lecturing a confused clerk about the metaphysical implications of owning goldfish. Lily is already laughing before he finishes the sentence. @@.lily;"Oh my God, he's naming it Schrödy! Like Schrödinger! He's such a little menace!"@@ You can't help but smile at how into it she is. She's snuggled up in her blanket, hair messy from rolling around, eyes wide with joy. When Shelvin starts dramatically constructing a "fish-sized particle observation chamber," Lily wipes a tear from her sigh and lets out a sigh. @@.lily;"I want a pet,"@@ she says suddenly. @@.lily;"Something cute. Something that doesn't make a mess or judge me for watching this show."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"You do have a pet. A fish just like Shelvin, actually."@@ Lily gives you a deadpan look. @@.lily;"You mean Dr. Pickles? $name, he lived for four days and has been dead for years. He does ''not'' count."@@ You feign offense. @@.player;"Hey, he was our fish. You can't just erase his memory like that."@@ @@.lily;"We don't even know why he died"@@ she says. @@.lily;"You were supposed to feed him, by the way. He was looking pretty chonky when he died, so you probably messed up."@@ @@.player;"I was going to feed him normally, but then you poured the entire container of flakes into the bowl!"@@ @@.lily;"It was an experiment!"@@ she defends. @@.lily;"I wanted to see how much he could eat before he got full."@@ You give her a look. @@.player;"He got full alright."@@ @@.lily;"Okay, okay, I get it,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Rest in peace, Dr. Pickles."@@ For a moment, the room settles back into comfortable laughter. Shelvin is now building a particle accelerator in his garage, the kind of absurd subplot that has Lily wheezing again. You glance at her. @@.player;"You know, I actually do have a pet now,"@@ you say casually. That only earns you a suspicious squint. @@.lily;"No you don't."@@ @@.player;"I do."@@ @@.lily;"Does it breathe?"@@ @@.player;"Yes."@@ @@.lily;"Does it exist outside your imagination?"@@ @@.player;"Yes!"@@ you insist, grinning now. @@.lily;"You mean like a real animal?"@@ @@.player;"Sort of."@@ @@.lily;"//Sort of?//"@@ You hesitate just long enough for her to tilt her head. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you admit, @@.player;"technically, it's a magic pet."@@ The room goes completely silent except for Shelvin laughing maniacally at his own experiment. Lily blinks once. @@.lily;"A what now?"@@ @@.player;"A magic pet."@@ @@.lily;"No shot,"@@ she says in disbelief. @@.lily;"You're telling me that you've got freaking magic?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.lily;"No, like, real magic?"@@ she asks, still processing everything. @@.lily;"Actual spells and glowing lights and floating stuff."@@ @@.player;"Pretty much."@@ @@.lily;"You're lying."@@ @@.player;"Would I lie about this?"@@ @@.lily;"Yes,"@@ she states, fully confident. @@.lily;"You told me I was adopted from a trash can when I was five. I cried."@@ @@.player;"Okay, that's a fair point, but I'm not lying this time."@@ She shoves your shoulder. @@.lily;"$name, if you're telling me you're a wizard and you've been hiding it from me, I swear to God I will—"@@ @@.player;"Not a wizard, a mage,"@@ you correct automatically. @@.player;"Big difference."@@ @@.lily;"Oh shit, excuse me, mage,"@@ she says dramatically. @@.lily;"Tell me, sir mage, do you conjure up lightning or merely hover teacups for amusement?"@@ @@.player;"Neither!"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"It's not really like that. It's complicated, really. There's this whole thing called the Mage Society. And there are rules, and Lumin Circles, and local leaders, and—"@@ @@.lily;"Wait, society?!"@@ she interrupts. @@.lily;"You're telling me there's a whole bunch of magic people?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah. There's a few. My friend, Aurora, she's in charge of Crestview Bay's circle. And there's Amber, Daphne, Noah, and Milo."@@ Lily gasps again, grabbing your arm. @@.lily;"You joined a magic club and didn't tell me?!"@@ @@.player;"It's not a club!"@@ you insist, laughing. @@.player;"It's serious stuff. We protect people and close rifts and make magic tea."@@ @@.lily;"Okay, but, you have a familiar, don't you?"@@ she cuts in, eyes going huge. @@.lily;"Like a magical pet thing. That's what you meant earlier!"@@ You nod slowly, a little surprised she guessed that. @@.lily;"Oh my God. What is it?!"@@ You pause, just to mess with her. @@.player;"Uhh, you can guess."@@ @@.lily;"Is it a dragon?"@@ @@.player;"Nope."@@ @@.lily;"A griffin?"@@ @@.player;"Smaller."@@ @@.lily;"A flying ferret?"@@ @@.player;"That's oddly specific, but no."@@ She groans. @@.lily;"Tell meee!"@@ @@.player;"Wanna see?"@@ you ask. Her head shoots up instantly, eyes wide. @@.lily;"Wait, you can show me?!"@@ @@.player;"Of course I can."@@ @@.lily;"PLEASE,"@@ she says immediately, clasping her hands together. @@.lily;"Please, please, please!"@@ You laugh. @@.player;"It's not that big of a deal."@@ @@.lily;"It's the biggest deal ever!"@@ she says, shaking your arm. @@.lily;"Come on, $name! You can't just say you have a magic pet and not show your loving and caring and perfect sister the best thing that's ever happened to you!"@@ You grin, unable to resist how excited she looks. @@.player;"Alright, alright. But you have to promise not to freak out."@@ @@.lily;"I never freak out."@@ @@.player;"Lily, you cried when Shelvin's mom got mad at him."@@ @@.lily;"That was emotional storytelling!"@@ she protests. You're laughing so hard you can barely speak. @@.player;"Okay, fine. You're cool. You're calm. You're collected."@@ <<if $transgender > 14 and $acceptance > 19>>\ @@.lily;"I am ''so'' collected,"@@ she insists, grinning from ear to ear. @@.lily;"Now show me, magic sibling!"@@ <<else>>\ @@.lily;"I am ''so'' collected,"@@ she insists, grinning from ear to ear. @@.lily;"Now show me, magic brother!"@@ <</if>>\ You shake your head, chuckling as you stand. @@.player;"Alright then. You better get ready, 'cause this is gonna be a little weird."@@ <<if $lilyplush is true>>\ Lily practically bounces on her bed, hugging the red panda plushie you bought her for emotional support. Her eyes are glowing with curiosity and pure joy. @@.lily;"I was born ready!"@@ she declares. She adjusts the plushie's head to be looking right at you. @@.lily;"Mochi, focus up. This is important."@@ <<else>>\ Lily practically bounces on her bed, her eyes glowing with curiosity and pure joy. @@.lily;"I was born ready!"@@ she declares. <</if>>\ You take a slow breath, summoning a lavender thread of mana through your hands. The air shifts, subtle but real, the lights dimming slightly as the warmth of your magic pools at your fingertips. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you murmur, smiling at your sister's awe. @@.player;"Meet my familiar."@@ <<if $familiar is 0>>\ The mana hums softly, vibrating against your skin. The light between your hands ripples outward, glowing brighter, the edges blurring until the air seems to take shape. And then something forms. Your lynx appears and blinks a couple of times before looking up at you with quiet recognition. @@.lily;"Oh my God,"@@ Lily says, her breath catching audibly. You smile softly. @@.player;"Lily, meet Sable. Sable, meet Lily."@@ The lynx tilts her head, ears flicking. She takes a cautious step forward, then another, paws not making any noise even on the hardwood floor. Lily leans forward so fast she nearly falls off the bed. @@.lily;"She's so cute!"@@ Sable blinks at the outburst, then sniffs the air before padding closer. She stops just in front of Lily, fur shimmering in the lamplight. @@.lily;"I can't believe she's real,"@@ Lily gasps, staring. It's as if she's scared that if she blinks, the lynx will disappear. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, proud of yourself. @@.player;"She's part of my magic."@@ Lily looks between you and the lynx with wide eyes. @@.lily;"So what the hell is she? Half pet, half soul?!"@@ @@.player;"Something like that,"@@ you say, laughing. Sable seems to take that as her cue to introduce herself properly. She stretches and then hops lightly onto the bed beside Lily. The sheets dip under her weight. Her runes pulse once in a soft lavender glow. @@.lily;"Wait, how'd she get on the bed?"@@ Lily asks, freezing. @@.player;"Don't worry, she's not gonna ruin anything,"@@ you reassure her. @@.player;"She's kind of made of magic, so no shedding."@@ Lily slowly reaches out a hand, fingers trembling a little. @@.lily;"Can I pet her?"@@ @@.player;"Go ahead,"@@ you say. When her hand touches Sable's fur, she gasps again. @@.lily;"She's warm!"@@ Sable leans into the touch, purring softly. Lily squeals quietly, burying her face into her hands for a second before immediately going back to petting her. @@.lily;"$name,"@@ she says, voice muffled, @@.lily;"you have the coolest life ever."@@ You grin, sitting down beside her on the bed as Sable begins to roll over, pawing lazily at Lily's blanket. @@.player;"You'd be surprised by how stressful it gets."@@ @@.lily;"I don't care,"@@ she says, giggling as Sable flicks her tail against her arm. @@.lily;"I am officially jealous."@@ <<if $lilyplush is true>>\ Sable sniffs at the red panda plushie, nudges it once, and then sits down like she's decided it's an acceptable companion. @@.lily;"She likes Mochi!"@@ Lily exclaims, giggling uncontrollably. @@.lily;"Oh my God, $name, she's so soft! Look at her paws! She has little lightning squiggles on them!"@@ <<else>>\ Sable sniffs at Lily's pillow then frowns, hitting it with her paw several times before turning away. @@.lily;"Why doesn't she like my pillow?"@@ Lily asks, sounding disappointed. @@.lily;"It's comfortable."@@ <</if>>\ You smile, watching as Sable rubs her head against Lily's arm affectionately, her tufted ears twitching in contentment. @@.player;"She's a bit of a show-off,"@@ you admit. @@.lily;"Good,"@@ Lily says firmly. @@.lily;"She deserves to show off."@@ For a while, you just watch them. Lily's laughing and Sable has rolled onto her back. She's batting lazily at a tissue that Lily is holding. @@.lily;"Can she talk?"@@ Lily asks suddenly, eyes wide. @@.player;"Nope,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But she understands. It's kind of a telepathic bond."@@ @@.lily;"So she can hear me?"@@ Lily gasps. @@.lily;"Sable, I just want you to know that you're perfect."@@ The lynx closes her eyes and purrs as if she understands perfectly well. Lily absolutely melts. @@.lily;"I love her ''so'' much. Can we keep her forever?"@@ You hesitate a little, watching the shimmer of mana begin to ripple faintly through Sable's fur. @@.player;"She can't stay like this forever. She's made of magic, remember? I have to turn her back soon, or it drains energy."@@ @@.lily;"Wait,"@@ Lily says, her face falling immediately. @@.lily;"Like, right now?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, right now,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"I used up a lot of mana today. She'll come back, though. Whenever I summon her again."@@ Sable tilts her head at you, as if understanding what's about to happen. She steps closer to Lily, rubbing her head gently against her arm one last time. Lily bites her lip, trying not to look too disappointed. @@.lily;"She's so real though. I can feel her heartbeat."@@ @@.player;"That's because she //is// real,"@@ you say, smiling faintly. @@.player;"Just in a different way, I suppose."@@ Sable purrs one last time before her form begins to shimmer. Her fur dissolves into little balls of light, each one drifting upward before vanishing. The glow lingers for a few seconds then fades, leaving only a faint scent of lavender and warmth in the air. Lily stares at the spot where she stood, quiet for a moment. Then, softly, @@.lily;"I hope to see you later, Sable..."@@ @@.player;"You will,"@@ you say, reaching over and gently ruffling her hair. @@.player;"She'll definitely want to."@@ @@.lily;"She's the best,"@@ Lily states. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, still smiling. @@.player;"She really is."@@ @@.lily;"Shit, I forgot to give her a treat!"@@ Lily exclaims, clearly annoyed at herself. @@.lily;"Ugh, what do lynxes like. I'll get her tuna."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"She doesn't //need// food, but she'll still eat them."@@ @@.lily;"If she'll eat them, I'll bring them,"@@ Lily insists, flopping back against her pillow. @@.lily;"Every cute thing deserves snacks."@@ You chuckle, heading for the door. @@.player;"Goodnight, Lils."@@ @@.lily;"Night, marvelous magic mage,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Tell Sable I said goodnight too."@@ You pause at the doorway, looking back. The last spark of lavender light flickers near the ceiling before fading completely. @@.player;"I think she already knows,"@@ you say. Then you turn out the light and leave. <<elseif $familiar is 1>>\ The air in Lily's room hums faintly as mana begins to gather in your palms, threads of light weaving between your fingers. Lily, sitting cross-legged on her bed, watches with huge eyes. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you murmur, steadying your breath. @@.player;"Just don't freak out, alright?"@@ @@.lily;"I'm already freaking out,"@@ she whispers, grinning but nervous. The glow deepens and the room fills with a soft mist. The light condenses, rippling, and something begins to move from within the haze. The shape sharpens and an elegant snake slides into view, her scales silver and purple. Runes trace in looping lines along her back, glowing lazily. She lifts her head gracefully and flicks her tongue. The tip of her tail drags faint sparks of lavender light across the hardwood floor as she moves. Lily goes completely still. @@.lily;"$name,"@@ she says, barely above a whisper, @@.lily;"that's a //snake//."@@ You nod, smiling a little. @@.player;"Yep. Her name's Seraphine."@@ @@.lily;"Is she poisonous?"@@ Lily asks, pointing accusingly. @@.player;"You mean to ask if she's venomous,"@@ you correct, grinning. @@.player;"Poison is when you eat it. Venom is when it bites you."@@ @@.lily;"Oh my God, $name,"@@ she interrupts. @@.lily;"Is the snake gonna kill me or not?!"@@ You laugh, shaking your head. @@.player;"No. She's perfectly safe. She's not aggressive at all, really. She's more like a magical pet than anything else."@@ Seraphine flicks her tongue again, tilting her head at Lily with a quizzical look. It's as if she understands every word. Then, slowly, she glides closer. Lily pulls her legs up defensively. @@.lily;"She's coming closer!"@@ @@.player;"Relax,"@@ you say, gently. @@.player;"If she wanted to bite you, she'd be at your arms by now."@@ @@.lily;"That is ''not'' helping!"@@ But then Seraphine pauses. She tilts her head, and her pale amethyst eyes meet Lily's directly. After a moment, the snake lowers herself onto the floor, coiling neatly like she's trying to look small and harmless. @@.lily;"She's kinda cute,"@@ Lily says, voice softening. @@.player;"Told you,"@@ you reply, grinning. Seraphine begins to slither in a slow circle, her tail brushing against the floor. Where she passes, faint lavender sparks follow like glitter. When she reaches the edge of Lily's bed, she lifts her head and rests her chin on the blanket. Lily leans forward carefully. @@.lily;"She's so smooth and her eyes are shiny."@@ @@.player;"You can pet her,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"She likes gentle movements."@@ Lily hesitates before reaching out, hand trembling a little. Seraphine blinks slowly, then nuzzles her fingers with the top of her head. Lily squeaks softly, then bursts into laughter. @@.lily;"She's soft!"@@ Lily exclaims, surprised. @@.lily;"I thought snakes were, like, slimy!"@@ You can't help but laugh. @@.player;"That's a myth."@@ @@.lily;"She's adorable!"@@ Lily says, petting Seraphine's head gently. The snake coils around Lily's wrist. Not tightly or enough to hurt, of course, just enough to rest there. The lavender runes pulse faintly as Lily giggles. @@.player;"She likes you,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"Well, I like her!"@@ Lily beams, holding her arm carefully as to not disturb the snake. @@.lily;"She's like jewelry. If you think about it, she's a living bracelet!"@@ Seraphine flicks her tail as if in agreement and begins to curl loosely around Lily's lap, tucking her head under her own body. The runes on her scales shimmer brighter, casting a delicate glow. @@.lily;"$name, she's the prettiest thing I have ever seen,"@@ Lily whispers. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"She's something special."@@ For a few minutes, you just sit there together. Lily giggles each time the snake flicks her tongue near her hand, and Seraphine responds by slowly looping around the blanket. Eventually, though, you feel a tug in your chest. You've used a ''lot'' of mana today. @@.player;"I have to turn her back soon,"@@ you say, sighing softly. Lily looks up, startled. @@.lily;"Wait, what? No! She's perfect!"@@ @@.player;"She'll come back whenever I summon her,"@@ you reassure her. @@.player;"She's not gone, just resting."@@ Lily strokes the snake's back gently. Seraphine lifts her head once more, looking at her with those calm, intelligent eyes. She flicks her tongue one last time against Lily's fingers. You suppose it's a snake's version of a kiss. @@.lily;"You're such a good girl, Seraphine,"@@ Lily says eyes going soft. The snake rattles faintly, although it sounds more like a chime than a rattle, before beginning to dissolve into light. The silver and lavender shimmer fades upward and within moments, she's gone. Lily sits very still, staring at the spot where she vanished. Then, quietly, she whispers, @@.lily;"Slither away, Seraphine. I'll see you again later."@@ You smile at her tone. @@.player;"She'd like that,"@@ you say. Lily wipes her eyes, grinning again. @@.lily;"I'm buying her a tiny hat. I'll give it to her the next time I see her."@@ @@.player;"A what?"@@ @@.lily;"A hat!"@@ she exclaims. @@.lily;"Or maybe, like, a little friendship bracelet for her tail."@@ @@.player;"She doesn't even have wrists..."@@ you mutter. @@.lily;"She'll love it,"@@ Lily states, confidently. @@.lily;"You'll see."@@ @@.player;"You're crazy,"@@ you say, shaking your head. @@.lily;"Me?"@@ Lily asks, acting offended. @@.lily;"You have a magic snake. Who's the crazy one now?"@@ @@.player;"Still me,"@@ you say automatically. She laughs. And as you turn off the light and step into the hallway, you can still hear her voice drifting through the door. @@.lily;"Goodnight, Seraphine."@@ <<elseif $familiar is 2>>\ <<if $lilyplush is true>>\ The air in Lily's room hums with lavender light. Your palms are open, the magic pulsing through your veins steadily. Lily sits cross-legged on her bed, jittering and clutching onto Mochi like a life preserver. <<else>>\ The air in Lily's room hums with lavender light. Your palms are open, the magic pulsing through your veins steadily. Lily sits cross-legged on her bed, jittering and clutching onto a pillow like a life preserver. <</if>>\ @@.lily;"Okay,"@@ Lily begins, @@.lily;"this is either gonna be the coolest thing I've ever seen or the last thing I ever see."@@ You grin faintly. @@.player;"You'll be fine. Just don't scream."@@ @@.lily;"I make no promises,"@@ she whispers, eyes wide. The magic finishes gathering between your hands, the light twisting in lavender ribbons. The air gets warmer, the glow brightens even further, and then it bounds outward. A coyote. //Your// coyote. Her eyes open, amethyst with streaks of sunlight. For a moment she stands still, just watching. Her head's tilted slightly, tail swaying in curiosity. Lily's jaw drops. @@.lily;"$name,"@@ she whispers. @@.lily;"Is that a dog?"@@ @@.player;"Not quite,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"A coyote."@@ Solana steps forward and looks up at Lily. Her mouth opens and she smiles in greeting. Lily leans so far forward that you're surprised she doesn't straight up fall off the bed. @@.lily;"She's so pretty. She's, oh my God, she's sparkling."@@ @@.player;"This is Solana,"@@ you say softly. The name makes the coyote's ears twitch. She glances at you, then back at Lily, tail giving a few thoughtful wags. @@.lily;"She can speak English,"@@ Lily whispers. You chuckle. @@.player;"She doesn't actually speak English. She can just understand intent through my magic. It's... hard to explain."@@ @@.lily;"Intent,"@@ Lily echos dreamily. @@.lily;"Can I pet her?"@@ Before you can answer, Solana makes the decision for both of you. She pads closer to the bed, gaze flicking from you to your sister, then rises and places her front paws on the edge of the mattress. Her claws don't tear the fabric, they don't even leave a mark. @@.lily;"What a polite puppy!"@@ Lily exclaims, gasping. You grin. @@.player;"She's friendly. Just be careful."@@ Solana climbs up fully, settling into the middle of the bed like she owns the place. She looks between you and Lily again, tail sweeping slowly as she waits. @@.lily;"She won't bite?"@@ Lily confirms, hand hovering awkwardly. @@.player;"She's not gonna bite you,"@@ you say. Lily still hesitates. @@.lily;"I don't know, $name, I saw this documentary—"@@ Solana leans forward, sniffs Lily's wrist once, then bumps her nose gently against it. Lily squeals. @@.lily;"OH MY GOD SHE IS ''SO'' SOFT."@@ @@.player;"You sound like you're about to adopt her,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.lily;"That's 'cause I //am// about to adopt her!"@@ Lily says, eyes sparkling. @@.lily;"You can keep your weird magic rights or whatever, but she's mine now."@@ Solana lowers her head into Lily's lap with a loud sigh, like she's decided this is her rightful throne. Her tail curls around her legs, and she looks perfectly content. @@.lily;"She feels like cotton candy,"@@ Lily says, running her fingers through the coyote's fur. @@.lily;"She's just perfect."@@ @@.player;"She's not bad,"@@ you admit, crouching beside the bed. @@.player;"She likes you."@@ Lily beams, rubbing the coyote's ears. @@.lily;"Well, duh. Who wouldn't?"@@ Solana lets out a soft noise that sounds suspiciously like laughter. Out of nowhere, Lily blurts, @@.lily;"You know, a coyote ate my best friend's outdoor cat last year."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ Lily nods very seriously. @@.lily;"Yeah! Mrs. Whiskerton. I saw her a few times, she was really cute. She vanished overnight. Everyone was really sad, but, like, I get it now. Look at Solana! I'd let her eat my cat."@@ @@.player;"Lily, what the hell are you saying?"@@ you ask, staring at her. @@.lily;"Don't judge,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"She's cute and majestic. How could you even be mad?"@@ @@.player;"That's not how it works,"@@ you groan, rubbing your forehead. Solana, unlike you, seems amused. Lily giggles again, her earlier nervousness entirely gone. @@.lily;"Okay, okay, maybe I wouldn't let her eat my cat. But I'd forgive her really fast. Like, c'mon, look at that face. She could commit arson and still get away with it with a face like that."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"She's not committing crimes, she's a familiar."@@ @@.lily;"A //criminally// cute familiar,"@@ Lily says seriously. Solana tilts her head as if she agrees. Then she flops onto her side and stretches. Her fur shimmers softly, each motion sending lavender balls of light spinning through the air. @@.lily;"She's such a diva!"@@ Lily says, giggling. @@.lily;"She's literally posing."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I've figured out that she's a bit of a show-off,"@@ you say. Lily coos at Solana, who wags her tail. @@.lily;"Hi, Solana,"@@ she whispers. @@.lily;"You're my favorite thing ever. Don't tell $name, but I like you more."@@ @@.player;"Noted,"@@ you state. @@.player;"I'll try not to take it personally."@@ Lily continues petting Solana for a few minutes. Whenever Lily stops, Solana nudges her hand, reminding her of her duties. Lily leans down and presses her forehead to Solana's, whispering, @@.lily;"You're a good girl, you know that?"@@ Solana lets out a content huff, eyes closing. But then, you feel it. The magic's beginning to ebb, the mana's beginning to run out. @@.player;"Lily,"@@ you begin, sighing softly, @@.player;"I have to let her go for now."@@ @@.lily;"Wait, no!"@@ Lily says, horrified. @@.lily;"You can't make her go yet, she just got here!"@@ @@.player;"She'll come back whenever I call her,"@@ you promise gently. @@.player;"But she's made of magic. I can't keep her in this world forever."@@ Lily looks at Solana, eyes shiny with tears. @@.lily;"You're really leaving, huh?"@@ Solana lifts her head, meeting her gaze one last time. She presses her nose to Lily's hand one last time. A faint glow ripples across her fur as if she's saying goodbye in her own way. @@.lily;"You're too nice, Solana,"@@ Lily says, sniffling. @@.lily;"You're gonna make me cry."@@ The light begins to spread. Solana's outline blurs, the shimmer brightening until the whole room is filled with a gentle glow. @@.lily;"I'll see you again later,"@@ Lily declares softly. The coyote's shape dissolves completely. Lily sighs and flops back onto her bed, grinning despite the tears in her eyes. @@.lily;"She's seriously the best thing ever. Like, ten out of ten. No notes."@@ @@.player;"You should get to sleep,"@@ you say, chuckling. Lily yawns, curling under her blanket. @@.lily;"Maybe I should. I //am// pretty tired."@@ @@.player;"Goodnight, Lils."@@ @@.lily;"Night, magic coyote tamer,"@@ she mumbles sleepily. You turn out the light and leave, smiling to yourself. <</if>>\ <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ <<button "Nighttime besttime" "Day 21 - Masturbation 1">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Time for bed" "Day 21 - 29">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $bra to 69>>\ Steam still clings to your skin as you step out of the bathroom, towel draped around your shoulders. Your hair is damp and keeps sticking to your forehead, despite your best efforts. The night air feels cool against your skin after the heat of the shower. You're about to tug on your clothes when you stop. The hot water must've done a ''lot'', because you can feel the faint hum of energy pooling in your chest. Your mana. It pulses gently beneath your skin. You glance down at your hands and flex your fingers. For a second, you can just about see the faint lavender light flickering between them. @@.player;"Not bad,"@@ you murmur to yourself. @@.player;"Guess hot showers really do fix everything."@@ The room is dim, lit mostly by the soft yellow glow of your lamp. You //could// lie back, stare at the ceiling, and drift off to bed. But the mana's there and waiting. You can't quite shake the thought that you could do something with it. The pulse of heat between your legs is slow and insistent. You shouldn't do anything, but it's hard to resist. Your fingers twitch against your bare thighs as the magic in your veins hums. It's as if it even your own magic knows what you're thinking. Maybe you //should// do something before sleep. <<button "Masturbate with magic" "Day 21 - Masturbation 2">>\<<set $d21masturbate to true>>\<<trackChoice "D21_masturbate" "Masturbate with magic" "story">><</button>> <<button "Maybe another time" "Day 21 - 29">>\<<set $d21masturbate to false>>\<<trackChoice "D21_masturbate" "Maybe another time" "story">><</button>>

<<set $magichandsCG to true>>\ <<set $magichandsCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $magichandsCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $magichandsCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<set $magichandsCGpp to $genitalsProg>> <<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-magichands"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairmed.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairlong.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basebody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobs.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/meyes1.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes1.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes1.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppave.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppsmall.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/pptiny.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/filter.png" } ]>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ Whatever, you'll do it. It's been a while anyway. You pad across the room and yank the curtains shut. The room gets plunged into near-darkness, lit faintly by the moonlight outside. You press your palms flat against the mattress as you crawl onto your bed, arching your back as your crawl forward. Your weight shifts differently now. Your hips sway a little too much and there's more weight on your chest. Less jagged edges, more smooth curves. You're //pretty//. The knowledge is almost hotter than the embarrassment. Your knees press into the comforter as you settle onto all fours. Your hair falls messily across your face and your breath is already coming faster. Time to begin. <<button "A magic hand?" "Day 21 - Masturbation 3">><</button>>

<<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-magichands"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairmed.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairlong.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basebody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobs.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/meyes1.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes1.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes1.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppavehand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppsmallhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/pptinyhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/filter.png" } ]>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ Breath shaky, you let your legs fall open wide. The air is cool against your smooth, bare skin. Yet, even that does nothing to soothe the heat that's coiling in your stomach and the insistent throb between your legs and in your stomach. You've done a lot with magic so far. Magic tea, fireworks, even your own little familiar. But you've never used it for something like this. Never with your body trembling in anticipation as your pulse flutters. You lift one hand and splay your fingers. Mana hums right beneath the surface, buzzing right under your fingertips. And then it happens. Lavender light spills from your palm and coalesces. Fingers first, slender and elegant, then a palm, and finally, a wrist that trails off into nothing. It hovers in the air. The magic hand flexes, as if testing out its new form, before turning toward you. Your breath hitches. It moves like it knows you. Which, to be fair, it kind of does. It drifts downward, trailing its index finger across your body as it moves. A whisper of heat over your collarbone, over your taut tummy, your crotch. It's teasing, hell, almost taunting. Your penis twitches violently, precum already beading at the tip. @@.player;"Fuckkk—"@@ The hand is patient, not daring to rush. It strokes up the length of your dick first, slow as syrup. The touch is electric. It's solid enough to feel real yet liquid enough to feel unqiue. Your thighs jerk and your teeth dig into your lip. When it finally closes around you, the pressure is perfect. It's firm and slick, coated in some sort of magical lube. It starts slow. A lazy pump, lingering just slightly at the head on each stroke. The sensation is different, tingling and alive. The mana enhances every feeling, the magic buzzing against the most sensitive part of you like a low-current charge. Every drag of those glowing fingers sends sparks of pleasure up your spine. Shit, that feels ''amazing''. You can't help but moan, hips rocking and pushing back into the sensation as your body urges for more. The room fills with the wet sounds of your arousal. You need more. <<button "More magic hands?" "Day 21 - Masturbation 4">><</button>>

<<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-magichands"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairmed.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairlong.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basebody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandf.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandf.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhands.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/meyes2.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes2.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes2.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppavehand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppsmallhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/pptinyhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/filter.png" } ]>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ Your hips stutter forward, chasing the rhythm of the hand that's already there. Its grip tightens just enough to make your toes curl into the sheets out of pleasure. But it's not enough. Not yet, at least. You're burning up, every nerve alight, and the idea hits you like a lightning strike. More. You don't hesitate. With a quick gasp, you flick your wrist again, mana surging in a dizzying rush. Two more tendrils of lavender light spiral from your fingertips. They coil in the air before solidifying into two more slender hands. This time, they don't wait for permission. <<if $magichandsCGbreasts is 0 or $magichandsCGbreasts is 1 or $magichandsCGbreasts is 2>>\ The hand glides over your chest with possessiveness. Fingers skim over the subtle swell of your chest before zeroing in on your nipples. One pinches using index and middle, rolling it to a stiff peak. The other hand teases with the same cruel yet delicious treatment as its twin. The sensation is sharp and sends jolts of pleasure through your entire body. <<elseif $magichandsCGbreasts is 3>>\ The hand palms the soft curve of your chest, squeezing just enough to make you whimper before dipping lower to circle a nipple. It flicks the buds a few times, then drags a fingernail around the sensitive areola. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as it pinches and twists. <<elseif $magichandsCGbreasts is 4>>\ The hands grope you first, fingers sinking into plush flesh with greedy pleasure. It kneads roughly, lifting and squeezing like it can't get enough, before thumbing your nipple in circles. Your hips buck in pleasure as the hands explore every square inch of your chest. <</if>>\ @@.player;"I'm ''so'' close,"@@ you whine, drowning in euphoria. The hands move in perfect, hungry synchrony, a symphony of pleasure. Your back arches off the bed, sweat-slick and trembling, as everything gets blurry. But you know you want more. <<button "The final magic hand" "Day 21 - Masturbation 5">><</button>>

<<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-magichands"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/butthand1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairmed.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairlong.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basebody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sweat.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandf.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandf.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhands.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/meyes1.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes1.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes1.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppavehand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppsmallhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/pptinyhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/filter.png" } ]>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ Everything stills. Your whole body is vibrating with need. Your chest heaves, your thighs tremble, and sweat beads on your brow as the three magic hands work. You're so close to the edge that you can practically taste it. But you force your eyes open, even if your lashes are sticking together and your vision is blurred with pleasure. You can't end it here. Not yet. One more spell. Just. One. More. Your voice is wrecked when you choke out the incantation, mana surging in a final, dizzying rush. Lavender light pools and solidifies into a fourth magic hand, hovering just above your clenched butthole. It hovers there for just a second before drifting lower, fingertips brushing the sensitive skin just beneath your balls. You jolt, whining as the touch sends electric jolts straight up your spine. @@.player;"Nngh...!"@@ The hand doesn't rush. It doesn't //need// to. It instead teases, dragging a single fingertip in slow circles around your clenched hole. It's just enough pleasure to make you feel it, but not enough to give you what you need. To push you over the edge. Your cock twitches violently, leaking pathetic, sticky strands of cum as the other hands double down. @@.player;"P-please!"@@ you beg. The fourth finger presses in, just the tip, just enough to make your rim flutter around it. @@.player;"Oh my God."@@ It withdraws slightly, then presses again. It's teasing you. Teasing your entrance with shallow little thrusts. You're practically dripping now. And then the finger pushes. <<button "Inside you" "Day 21 - Masturbation 6">><</button>>

<<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-magichands"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/butthand2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairmed.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairlong.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basebody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sweat.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandf.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandf.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhands.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/meyes2.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes2.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes2.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppavehand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppsmallhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/pptinyhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/breath.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/filter.png" } ]>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ The moment the fingertips breach you, that slick resistance giving way, your entire body locks. A ragged cry tears from your throat. The hand doesn't stop, hell, it doesn't even hesitate. It slides inside, slow and relentless, the index and middle fingers curling just so, massaging your inner walls with precision. @@.player;"Ah!"@@ The sensation is unreal. Your cock jerks violently, precum smearing in slick streaks as it pumps you in time with the finger fucking into your ass. The hands on your breasts don't give up either, pinching and rolling your nipples. Then the finger inside you crooks, pressing firmly against that sweet, swollen spot deep inside. Your vision whites. @@.player;"Nngh! Hah! Right there, it's right fucking there!"@@ Your back arches off the bed, muscles straining as pleasure detonates through you, wave after wave of ecstasy radiating from your prostate, your dick, your nipples, your very bones. The hands work you, twisting your nipples, stroking your length, fucking into your ass with perfect thrusts. You're sobbing, drooling, shaking, and curling. @@.player;"I-I can't anymore. I'm gonna cum!"@@ The finger inside you presses harder, rubbing relentless circles against your prostate as the hand on your penis twists perfectly. You're right there. Trembling on the edge, seconds away from— <<button "Orgasm" "Day 21 - Masturbation 7">><</button>>

<<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-magichands"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/butthand2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairmed.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/backhairlong.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sidehair1.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basebody.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/sweat.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/headl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandf.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandf.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhands.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandm.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/boobhandl.png", "condition": $magichandsCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/meyes3.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes3.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/leyes3.png", "condition": $magichandsCGeyes, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppavehand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/ppsmallhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/pptinyhand.png", "condition": $magichandsCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/cum.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairshort.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/basehairloose.png", "condition": $hairProg, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/breath.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magichands/filter.png" } ]>>\ \ <div class="cgorgasm">\ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ <img src="img/additional/white.png" class="fadeout"> </div>\ The moment that tips you over the edge is all-consuming. Your body arches and every muscle locks as a silent scream tears through your lungs. Then, sound follows. A broken, shuddering cry as your orgasm erupts. Pleasure detonates from your core in waves so intense that they physically hurt. Your tongue lolls out, helpless, drool smearing your chin. Your cock pulses violently in the magic hand's grip, thick ropes of cum splattering across the bed. But it's the other hand, the one that's buried inside you, the one rubbing relentlessly against your prostate, that ruins you. Every spurt is wrung out of you with merciless precision, your hole fluttering around the invading finger as your thighs jerk. @@.player;"Hah... F-fuck...!"@@ It's too much. The pleasure is endless, your vision blurring as your hips twitch erratically, your nipples aching in pleasure from the pinching. Your skin is alight with phantom fire. And then, all at once, the mana gives out. The lavender hands dissolve into shimmering mist, leaving you empty and shaking, your limbs having turned to liquid. You collapse onto the mattress like a marionette with cut strings, breath ragged, sweat cooling on your overheated skin. Best. Orgasm. Ever. The thought floats through your hazy mind before exhaustion drags you under. That orgasm was so intense it left you shattered. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 1">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> <<set $day to 22>>\ Your phone's alarm goes off as if it saw you happy, and was personally offended by that. The shrill beeping yanks you out of a dream you can't quite remember, and for a moment you just lie there, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. It's Monday already. You roll over and slap at your phone until the noise finally stops. The room is dim and cool, but your blanket is warm. It would be perfect... if you didn't have to move. For two glorious, amazing, ''magnificent'' days, you'd woken up naturally. No alarm. No schedule. No teachers forcing everyone to pretend to be enthusiastic at 8 in the morning. The thought makes you sigh dramatically as you squint at your phone, hoping for some miracle cancellation notice. Maybe, just maybe, Southern California has gotten some snow. Instead, a notification from the Pacific Crest High School app pops up, full of suspicious cheer: ''WELCOME TO CULTURAL APPRECIATION WEEK'' This week is Cultural Appreciation Week! We will be celebrating the diverse community here at this school. More details will be shared during homeroom. You stare at it for a few seconds before letting out a quiet snort. @@.player;"Didn't we just have Homecoming Spirit Week?"@@ you mumble under your breath. You can already picture the student council somewhere, rubbing their hands together while plotting the next "fun and engaging school-wide experience." You really should get up now, but the bed is warm and your limbs feel heavy. You bury yourself deeper into the blanket for one last stretch of denial. Do you deserve another five minutes in bed? Unfortunately, you know yourself too well. Those five minutes would quickly become thirty, and you're not in the mood to sprint down the street with toast in your mouth. You finally push yourself upright, ruffling your hair and squinting around the room. Pale morning light filters through the curtains. Your desk is cluttered, as always. There are a few open notebooks, pencils scattered, about, and \ \ <<if $familiar is 0>>\ Sable's pawprint on a piece of paper. <<elseif $familiar is 1>>\ Seraphine's noseprint on a piece of paper. <<elseif $familiar is 2>>\ Solana's pawprint on a piece of paper. <</if>>\ \ You don't know how it got there, but seeing it makes you smile a little. <<if $d21masturbate is true>> Your reflection in the mirror greets you naked. @@.player;"The hell?"@@ you murmur, wondering why exactly you don't have any clothes on. You rub your face, trying your best to remember, and suddenly you do. //Oh.// Yeah, you wish you hadn't remembered. You quickly pad over to the closet, blinking quickly in hopes that that'll somehow erase your memory. <<else>>\ Your reflection in the mirror greets you with a sleep glare and hair that looks like it lost a fight with a balloon and static electricity. @@.player;"Perfect,"@@ you mutter. You rub your face, trying your best to feel alive, and move over to the closet. The floor is cold, which feels like an unnecessary attack from the cruel, cruel universe. <</if>>\ <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ Starting from Week 4, romance options will be jealous if you have a high romance stat with them and flirt with another romance option while they're nearby. There will not be a polycule route in this game, please don't bug me about it. </div>\ <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 22 - 2">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<button "Wear canon outfit" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 5>><<set $pants to 3>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\<<trackChoice "D22_outfit_selection" "Wear canon outfit" "customization">><</button>> <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $outfit to 69>><<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Just wear something" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

<<if $d15partner is true>>\ <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ You and Jordan look at the corner of stragglers who haven't been claimed yet. Most of the solid performers are already locked into trios, leaving a mixed bag of possibilities scattered around the room. You're not worried about working with Jordan, really. If anything, being partnered with him makes this whole thing easier. But finding a third is starting to look like a gamble. You scan the room and nods toward a tall guy wearing a wrinkled button-down shirt who's staring blankly into space. His mouth is slightly open as if he's buffering. @@.player;"What about him?"@@ Jordan doesn't even pretend to consider it. He lifts one eyebrow, gives the guy the quickest glance possible, then shakes his head. @@.jordan;"No presence. He moves onstage like a mop being dragged across the floor."@@ @@.player;"A mop?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says, dead serious. @@.jordan;"Like he's absorbing emotions instead of expressing them."@@ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.player;"Savage."@@ @@.jordan;"I'm //honest//,"@@ Jordan corrects. @@.jordan;"Trust me, there's a difference."@@ You walk a few more steps and gesture toward a girl chatting animatedly with two classmates despite clearly not being in their group. @@.player;"Fine. Okay. Her?"@@ @@.jordan;"Overacts."@@ Jordan doesn't hesitate. @@.jordan;"She tries to turn every script into a tragic monologue."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Even comedy?"@@ @@.jordan;"Oh, especially comedy,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Last week Bennet told her to react 'surprised,' and she did this whole spiel where she gasped then spun then fell. It was like she was dying of heartbreak."@@ @@.player;"Maybe she's just passionate!"@@ you say, laughing. @@.jordan;"She's dramatic,"@@ he insists. You chuckle as you point toward a lanky boy holding a mouse costume by its tail like it's radioactive. @@.player;"Okay, what about him?"@@ @@.jordan;"Cannot take direction,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"In the slightest."@@ You narrow your eyes at him. @@.player;"How do you know that?"@@ He gives you a look like the answer is obvious. @@.jordan;"Bennet told him to 'project,' and the guy just shouted while whispering."@@ @@.player;"That's not physically possible."@@ @@.jordan;"Not for us, maybe,"@@ Jordan says, giving you a smirk. @@.jordan;"But he found a way."@@ You roll your eyes, but you're smiling. @@.player;"So basically we have, like... six people left, and you've mentally blacklisted them all?"@@ <<if $jordanRomance > 19>>\ @@.jordan;"I'm selective, alright?"@@ Jordan replies, sounding oddly proud of himself. Then, with a hint of warmth: @@.jordan;"Which is why I asked you first."@@ You glance at him. He doesn't look embarrassed, just honest. More open than he is with anyone else. @@.player;"Why'd you ask, anyway?"@@ you ask. He shrugs, mouth pulling into a tiny grin. @@.jordan;"Yeah, well. I didn't want somebody else grabbing you."@@ Your heartbeat does something weird. Before you can comment, Jordan suddenly throws a hand out in front of you like he's stopping traffic. <<else>>\ @@.jordan;"I'm selective, alright?"@@ Jordan replies, sounding oddly proud of himself. Then, with a hint of warmth: @@.jordan;"Which is why I'm glad you asked me first."@@ You glance at him. He doesn't look embarrassed, just honest. More open than he is with anyone else. @@.player;"Why'd you accept, anyway??"@@ you ask. He shrugs. @@.jordan;"Can't have someone taking one of the few people in this class who knows how to act."@@ Before you can comment, Jordan suddenly throws a hand out in front of you like he's stopping traffic. <</if>>\ @@.jordan;"Wait. Don't take another step."@@ You freeze. @@.player;"What? Did I step on something?"@@ @@.jordan;"No,"@@ he says, lowering his arm slowly, eyes narrowing with focus. @@.jordan;"I see potential."@@ @@.player;"Potential?"@@ you repeat flatly. @@.player;"Dude, please don't tell me it's cape kid."@@ @@.jordan;"It's not cape kid,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"I'm not //that// desperate."@@ He nods toward the very back corner. At first, all you see is a cluttered clothing rack full of mismatched costumes. But then, behind it, you spot someone tucked neatly into the shadow it casts. A small girl is fidgeting lightly with her fingers. She's hunched over slightly, brown hair brushing her cheeks as she glances around nervously. @@.jordan;"There,"@@ he says, voice low but certain. @@.jordan;"She'll do."@@ Jordan doesn't wait. He starts walking toward the girl tucked behind the clothing rack, and you follow. Noelle lifts her head as the two of you approach, her eyes widening slightly in recognition. She looks scared, although that seems to be her default state. @@.player;"Hey, Noelle,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"Didn't notice you here today."@@ She gives a small nod. @@.noelle;"I, um... got here a little early and ended up stuck behind this thing."@@ She taps the rack beside her lightly. @@.noelle;"Nobody, not even Mr. Bennet, noticed I wasn't here so... I just... stayed..."@@ @@.player;"Honestly? It can happen,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You should come out next time, though."@@ Jordan steps forward, hands in his pockets. He looks at Noelle with a kind of quiet respect. The kind of respect that he reserves for people he sees potential in. @@.jordan;"Noelle, yeah?"@@ Jordan asks. She blinks. @@.noelle;"Y-yeah. That's me."@@ @@.jordan;"I've seen you act,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"You're good."@@ Noelle's face brightens faintly, eyes softening. @@.noelle;"Really? I didn't think anyone noticed. I'm usually the tree of the background character number three."@@ @@.jordan;"Well, I notice,"@@ Jordan says plainly. Coming from Jordan, who is incapable of saying anything nice, this is a glowing review. @@.noelle;"That means a lot,"@@ Noelle says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. @@.noelle;"Thank you."@@ @@.player;"Anyway, you wanna join us?"@@ you ask, grinning. @@.player;"We still need a third and Jordan here figured you'd be a good fit."@@ @@.jordan;"Hey!"@@ Jordan says, offended. @@.jordan;"She didn't need to know that."@@ @@.player;"Too late,"@@ you quip back. @@.noelle;"Me?"@@ Noelle asks, surprised. @@.noelle;"Oh, I mean, I'd //like// to. If you guys don't mind."@@ @@.player;"We wouldn't have asked if we minded,"@@ you say. Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"You'll be good in improv."@@ Noelle's shoulders relax. @@.noelle;"Okay, then. Yeah. I'll join."@@ @@.jordan;"Welcome to the team."@@ She smiles. And just like that, the three of you stand together, forming your unlikely trio. <<else>>\ Jordan doesn't say anything, but you can practically feel him judging every single potential teammate before you've even taken a full step in their direction. You nod toward a tall guy wearing a wrinkled button-down shirt who's staring blankly into the distance. @@.player;"What about him?"@@ Jordan doesn't even bother to look. @@.jordan;"No presence. He drifts onstage like a mop."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Oh."@@ You try again, pointing at a girl who's chatting animatedly with two other students even though she hasn't officially joined their group yet. @@.player;"Her?"@@ @@.jordan;"Overacts,"@@ Jordan says simply, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"She tries to turn every role into a tragic monologue. Even when it's comedy."@@ You're not sure how he even knows that, but considering how intensely he watches everyone acting in class, you decide not to question it. @@.player;"What bout that guy?"@@ you ask, nodding to a lanky boy who's holding a mouse costume and examining it like it's a bomb. @@.jordan;"Can't take direction,"@@ Jordan says immediately. @@.jordan;"He freezes up when Bennet gives notes."@@ You give him a skeptical look. @@.player;"Dude, do you have notes on //everyone//?"@@ @@.jordan;"Pretty much,"@@ he says flatly. @@.player;"Do you even know their names?"@@ He doesn't respond, and you decide not to push. The two of you continue scanning the crowd. Most of the remaining students are clustered in sloppy groups of two or three, trying to pull someone in before they're left behind. The few stragglers look like they're a moment away from panicking. You're starting to worry the only people left will be the ones Jordan despises when he suddenly slows down. @@.jordan;"Wait,"@@ he mutters. You follow his gaze, and in the very back corner of the classroom, half-hidden behind a rolling clothing rack, you see a girl. She has an embroidered white blouse and a blue skirt on. She's folded in on herself like she's trying to shrink into the wall. Every time someone moves near her, she flinches. She looks absolutely terrified and like she's doing her absolute best not to take up any space. @@.player;"Noelle?"@@ you say quietly. Jordan glances at you. @@.jordan;"You know her?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"We worked together a week ago. She's good. Just... very nervous."@@ Jordan's eyes flick back to her, studying her with intense scrutiny. @@.jordan;"Hmm,"@@ he says, as if that confirms something he already suspected. @@.jordan;"She'll work."@@ @@.player;"That's your whole metric?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.player;"That she's workable?"@@ He shrugs, already heading toward her. @@.jordan;"She's a better than most of this class, and a lot better than everyone else left."@@ You hurry to keep up. As you approach, Noelle notices you. Her shoulders tense, but when she realizes it's you and not some random group trying to drag her in, her expression eases. Not a full smile, but at least some relief. @@.noelle;"H-hey,"@@ she murmurs as you reach her. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say. You try to be as warm as possible to offset Jordan, who staring scarily at Noelle. @@.player;"You in a group yet?'@@ She shakes her head. @@.noelle;"Not yet. I was... kind of hoping someone would ask, but I didn't want to bother anyone."@@ Jordan steps forward then. His posture is straight and expression neutral. @@.jordan;"We need a third. You're good. Come with us."@@ Noelle blinks, clearly taken off-guard by the bluntness. Her gaze darts to you for confirmation. @@.player;"He's not wrong,"@@ you say, reassuring her with a small smile. @@.player;"We'd like to have you with us. You were really solid last time we worked together."@@ Her cheeks turn slightly pink at the compliment, but she nods. @@.noelle;"O-Okay, then. Yeah. I can do that."@@ @@.jordan;"Good,"@@ Jordan says, giving a short nod. You bite back a smile. @@.player;"This is Jordan. He's... well, he's Jordan."@@ Noelle gives a tiny, polite nod. @@.noelle;"I've seen you act,"@@ she says softly. @@.jordan;"You're... really good."@@ Jordan looks surprised for a fraction of a second, but he then mutters a quiet, @@.jordan;"Thanks,"@@ and looks away as if compliments are illegal. You can feel Noelle relax a little more now that introductions are done. She steps slightly closer to you, using your presence like a buffer against Jordan's intensity. Jordan slightly, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the class. @@.jordan;"We should get our costumes chosen and start soon. Bennet's about to lose his mind."@@ You look between Jordan, intense as ever, and Noelle, who looks like she wants to hide. You're in the middle, between the two extremes. It's a rather odd trio, to say the least, but a good one. At least according to Jordan. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d15partner is false>>\ <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ You and Jordan look at the corner of stragglers who haven't been claimed yet. Most of the solid performers are already locked into trios, leaving a mixed bag of possibilities scattered around the room. You're not worried about working with Jordan, really. If anything, being partnered with him makes this whole thing easier. But finding a third is starting to look like a gamble. You scan the room and nods toward a tall guy wearing a wrinkled button-down shirt who's staring blankly into space. His mouth is slightly open as if he's buffering. @@.player;"What about him?"@@ Jordan doesn't even pretend to consider it. He lifts one eyebrow, gives the guy the quickest glance possible, then shakes his head. @@.jordan;"No presence. He moves onstage like a mop being dragged across the floor."@@ @@.player;"A mop?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says, dead serious. @@.jordan;"Like he's absorbing emotions instead of expressing them."@@ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.player;"Savage."@@ @@.jordan;"I'm //honest//,"@@ Jordan corrects. @@.jordan;"Trust me, there's a difference."@@ You walk a few more steps and gesture toward a girl chatting animatedly with two classmates despite clearly not being in their group. @@.player;"Fine. Okay. Her?"@@ @@.jordan;"Overacts."@@ Jordan doesn't hesitate. @@.jordan;"She tries to turn every script into a tragic monologue."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Even comedy?"@@ @@.jordan;"Oh, especially comedy,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Last week Bennet told her to react 'surprised,' and she did this whole spiel where she gasped then spun then fell. It was like she was dying of heartbreak."@@ @@.player;"Maybe she's just passionate!"@@ you say, laughing. @@.jordan;"She's dramatic,"@@ he insists. You chuckle as you point toward a lanky boy holding a mouse costume by its tail like it's radioactive. @@.player;"Okay, what about him?"@@ @@.jordan;"Cannot take direction,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"In the slightest."@@ You narrow your eyes at him. @@.player;"How do you know that?"@@ He gives you a look like the answer is obvious. @@.jordan;"Bennet told him to 'project,' and the guy just shouted while whispering."@@ @@.player;"That's not physically possible."@@ @@.jordan;"Not for us, maybe,"@@ Jordan says, giving you a smirk. @@.jordan;"But he found a way."@@ You roll your eyes, but you're smiling. @@.player;"So basically we have, like... six people left, and you've mentally blacklisted them all?"@@ <<if $jordanRomance > 19>>\ @@.jordan;"I'm selective, alright?"@@ Jordan replies, sounding oddly proud of himself. Then, with a hint of warmth: @@.jordan;"Which is why I asked you first."@@ You glance at him. He doesn't look embarrassed, just honest. More open than he is with anyone else. @@.player;"Why'd you ask, anyway?"@@ you ask. He shrugs, mouth pulling into a tiny grin. @@.jordan;"Yeah, well. I didn't want somebody else grabbing you."@@ Your heartbeat does something weird. Before you can comment, Jordan suddenly throws a hand out in front of you like he's stopping traffic. <<else>>\ @@.jordan;"I'm selective, alright?"@@ Jordan replies, sounding oddly proud of himself. Then, with a hint of warmth: @@.jordan;"Which is why I'm glad you asked me first."@@ You glance at him. He doesn't look embarrassed, just honest. More open than he is with anyone else. @@.player;"Why'd you accept, anyway??"@@ you ask. He shrugs. @@.jordan;"Can't have someone taking one of the few people in this class who knows how to act."@@ Before you can comment, Jordan suddenly throws a hand out in front of you like he's stopping traffic. <</if>>\ @@.jordan;"Wait. Don't take another step."@@ You freeze. @@.player;"What? Did I step on something?"@@ @@.jordan;"No,"@@ he says, lowering his arm slowly, eyes narrowing with focus. @@.jordan;"I see potential."@@ @@.player;"Potential?"@@ you repeat flatly. @@.player;"Dude, please don't tell me it's cape kid."@@ @@.jordan;"It's not cape kid,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"I'm not //that// desperate."@@ He nods toward the very back corner. At first, all you see is a cluttered clothing rack full of mismatched costumes. But then, behind it, you spot someone tucked neatly into the shadow it casts. A small girl is fidgeting lightly with her fingers. She's hunched over slightly, brown hair brushing her cheeks as she glances around nervously. @@.jordan;"There,"@@ he says, voice low but certain. @@.jordan;"She'll do."@@ Jordan strides toward the girl, and you follow. You're not quite too sure as to why he zeroed in on her so quickly, but you trust him. She notices the two of you approaching and freezes for a second. @@.jordan;"Hey,"@@ Jordan says, tone warm. @@.jordan;"You're not in a group, right?"@@ She blinks. @@.noelle;"Um... no. Not yet."@@ Jordan gives her a nod. @@.jordan;"We need a third."@@ She looks between you both, clearly startled. @@.noelle;"Are... you sure you want me?"@@ Jordan nods again. @@.jordan;"Yeah."@@ His tone is simple, but not dismissive. He isn't judging her the way he judged the others, really. He's seeing potential within her. Unpolished, sure, but real. @@.player;"We figured you might want to join us,"@@ you say, offering a smile to soften things. @@.player;"Unless you were waiting on someone else, of course."@@ She shakes her head quickly. @@.noelle;"No! Um, I wasn't. I'm just... not great at the whole... talking thing."@@ Jordan's mouth curves into a tiny grin. @@.jordan;"Talking isn't needed for improv as much as people think. Reacting is. And you look like someone who pays attention."@@ @@.noelle;"You think... I could be good at this?"@@ she asks, eyes widening a little. @@.jordan;"If I didn't, I wouldn't ask,"@@ Jordan says simply. You laugh. @@.player;"The guy's kind of has a sixth sense for good actors."@@ @@.jordan;"Come on now, it's not a sixth sense,"@@ Jordan groans. @@.jordan;"I just watch people, alright?"@@ She blushes slightly at the honesty. Her shoulders loosen a little, and you can tell she's not intimidated anymore. @@.noelle;"I'd like to join,"@@ she says quietly. @@.noelle;"Thank you for asking."@@ @@.player;"Great,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm $name, by the way."@@ She nods. @@.noelle;"I'm Noelle."@@ @@.jordan;"Name's Jordan,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Welcome to the team."@@ She smiles. And just like that, the three of you stand together, forming your unlikely trio. <<else>>\ Jordan doesn't say anything, but you can practically feel him judging every single potential teammate before you've even taken a full step in their direction. You nod toward a tall guy wearing a wrinkled button-down shirt who's staring blankly into the distance. @@.player;"What about him?"@@ Jordan doesn't even bother to look. @@.jordan;"No presence. He drifts onstage like a mop."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Oh."@@ You try again, pointing at a girl who's chatting animatedly with two other students even though she hasn't officially joined their group yet. @@.player;"Her?"@@ @@.jordan;"Overacts,"@@ Jordan says simply, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"She tries to turn every role into a tragic monologue. Even when it's comedy."@@ You're not sure how he even knows that, but considering how intensely he watches everyone acting in class, you decide not to question it. @@.player;"What bout that guy?"@@ you ask, nodding to a lanky boy who's holding a mouse costume and examining it like it's a bomb. @@.jordan;"Can't take direction,"@@ Jordan says immediately. @@.jordan;"He freezes up when Bennet gives notes."@@ You give him a skeptical look. @@.player;"Dude, do you have notes on //everyone//?"@@ @@.jordan;"Pretty much,"@@ he says flatly. @@.player;"Do you even know their names?"@@ He doesn't respond, and you decide not to push. The two of you continue scanning the crowd. Most of the remaining students are clustered in sloppy groups of two or three, trying to pull someone in before they're left behind. The few stragglers look like they're a moment away from panicking. You're starting to worry the only people left will be the ones Jordan despises when he suddenly slows down. @@.jordan;"Wait,"@@ he mutters. You follow his gaze, and in the very back corner of the classroom, half-hidden behind a rolling clothing rack, you see a girl. She has an embroidered white blouse and a blue skirt on. She's folded in on herself like she's trying to shrink into the wall. Every time someone moves near her, she flinches. She looks absolutely terrified and like she's doing her absolute best not to take up any space. You glance at Jordan, confused. @@.player;"You want to pick her?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yes."@@ @@.player;"You sure?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yes."@@ He doesn't elaborate, instead opting to just walk toward her. @@.player;"But she looks like she's about to faint,"@@ you say, hurrying to keep pace. @@.jordan;"She's shy,"@@ Jordan replies without looking back. @@.jordan;"Shy's different from bad."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You can tell that from across the room?"@@ @@.jordan;"I pay attention,"@@ Jordan says, jaw ticking. The closer you get, the more the girl notices you. Her eyes widen slightly. She shrinks back even further, like she's hoping she'll phase through the wall and get to go home. For a second, you worry she might bolt. Jordan stops in front of her, his expression hard. You try to soften yours so you don't look like a scary duo. @@.player;"Hi,"@@ you say gently. @@.player;"Um... we still need a third person. Are you in a group yet?"@@ She shakes her head quickly, eyes wide. @@.noelle;"n-no. Not yet."@@ Her voice is barely above a whisper. Jordan nods once. @@.jordan;"Come with us."@@ You swear she stops breathing for a second. She looks between the two of you like she's waiting for confirmation that this isn't a joke or some kind of cruel prank. You give her a reassuring smile. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We'd like you to join us. If you're cool with that, of course."@@ Jordan stands stiffly beside you, arms crossed now. He doesn't make any attempt to soften his tone to help the poor girl out a little. @@.noelle;"Are you sure?"@@ The girl asks, hesitating. @@.noelle;"I'm not... I'm //really// not great at this."@@ @@.jordan;"You will be,"@@ Jordan replies coolly. @@.jordan;"You're nervous, not untalented."@@ She blinks. @@.noelle;"How do you know?"@@ He shrugs. @@.jordan;"I can tell."@@ You look at her sideways, but he doesn't bother with elaborating. He just watches her steadily, like he's already judged her as a good fit. And somehow, that seems to calm her. At least a little. @@.noelle;"Okay,"@@ she whispers. @@.noelle;"I'll join."@@ You smile. @@.player;"Great. I'm $name."@@ She nods quickly. @@.noelle;"I'm Noelle."@@ Jordan gives a small nod, acknowledging her name. @@.jordan;"Jordan."@@ Noelle seems startled by the directness of it, but she nods back. She looks like she's waiting for the ground to disappear under her feet at any moment, but she hasn't bolted yet. You suppose that's a good sign. Jordan slightly, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the class. @@.jordan;"We should get our costumes chosen and start soon. Bennet's about to lose his mind."@@ You look between Jordan, intense as ever, and Noelle, who looks like she wants to hide. You're in the middle, between the two extremes. It's a rather odd trio, to say the least, but a good one. At least according to Jordan. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Choose a costume" "Day 22 - 11">><</button>>

The three of you crowd around the massive costume bin. It's overflowing with fabric and plastic and old stage sweat. Someone yanks out a cape with a triumphant cheer, while another student groans in despair. Jordan steps up first, cracking his knuckles like this is a serious mission. @@.jordan;"Alright. Quick and clean. Bennet wants us to create good improv from three random things. Let's not go too crazy."@@ You peer into the bin beside him. @@.player;"Hmm, since when did you become the voice of restraint?"@@ @@.jordan;"Since I saw the damn banana suit,"@@ Jordan states. He reaches in without hesitation and, after a few seconds, ends up pulling out a battered pirate hat. It's black with a wide brim, a cheap plastic skull pinned to the side. A few fake gold beads tumble out of it and hit the floor with tiny clicks. @@.player;"That was fast,"@@ you say. Jordan turns the hat over in his hands, inspecting it like a relic. Then he drops it onto his head. The transformation is immediate. He shifts his posture, rolls back a shoulder, and lifts up his chin. The hat looks absurd, yet he somehow makes it work. He squints one eye and looks at you. @@.jordan;"Ah,"@@ he says slowly, voice dropping into a rough growl. @@.jordan;"The seas be cruel today."@@ @@.player;"You are ''way'' too comfortable with that,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.jordan;"Ay, lad,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"I was born for this life."@@ Noelle, standing just behind you, lets out the smallest giggle before clapping a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widen like she can't believe she made a sound. Jordan notices immediately and scowls. @@.jordan;"Ye laugh at the captain, do ye?"@@ @@.noelle;"N-no!"@@ Noelle says, face turning pink instantly. @@.noelle;"I just, um, sorry..."@@ He softens, dropping the pirate voice a little. @@.jordan;"I'm just joking. You're good."@@ Her shoulders relax a little. @@.jordan;"Anyway, you're up, Noelle,"@@ he says, nodding toward the bin. @@.jordan;"Find your destiny."@@ Noelle hesitates. @@.noelle;"I... I don't want to get in the way. What if I take something that someone else wanted? Oh dear."@@ @@.player;"You'll be fine,"@@ you say gently. @@.player;"Just pick one small thing. That's all anyone's doing."@@ She nods and crouches slowly beside the bin, carefully parting layers of props and fabric like she's afraid the costumes might just bite her. Her hands hover uncertainly over a few options. A tiara, a tiny chef hat, a pair of oversized goggles, and more. Finally, she pulls out a babushka. A Russian headscarf, faded pink. She blinks at it. @@.noelle;"Oh. This is kind of cute."@@ <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ @@.jordan;"Babushka!"@@ Jordan exclaims. @@.jordan;"We've got a pirate and a grandmother now. Truly the beginning of a timeless tale."@@ <<else>>\ @@.jordan;"Huh, a babushka,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"We've got a pirate and a grandmother now."@@ <</if>>\ @@.noelle;"I don't really know how to do a Russian accent or anything, though,"@@ Noelle says, looking embarrassed again. @@.player;"Just do whatever you want,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's improv! Just have fun."@@ She swallows, then slowly ties the babushka around her head. The effect is, frankly, a bit comical. @@.noelle;"I look strange,"@@ she says, adjusting it slightly. Noelle hesitates, then very timidly tries, her voice wavering. @@.noelle;"Ah... hello, my dear children... would you like some soup?"@@ The second the words leave her mouth, her blush intensifies. @@.noelle;"Oh my gosh, that sounded ridiculous. I am so sorry."@@ @@.jordan;"Do not apologize, Babushka,"@@ Jordan says, pointing at her. @@.jordan;"That voice holds wisdom. For a landlubber, at least."@@ @@.player;"I'd trust you with my life already,"@@ you say, grinning. She hides half her face behind her hands, but she's smiling now. @@.noelle;"You're both mean,"@@ she murmurs, though there's real warmth in it. Jordan turns to you. @@.jordan;"Well then, lad. The crew awaits its third member."@@ You look down into the bin and regret it. Somehow, it's worse up close. Way worse. The surface layer alone is a chaotic collage of random shit. A glittery magician's cape, a dented knight's helmet, a polka-dot clown vest, and a flapper headband. There's a judge's wig half-buried under a referee shirt, a chef's hat that's been flattened and has several holes in it (are they bulletholes?), and what might be the remains of a scarecrow costume shedding straw onto everything around it. @@.player;"Nope... no... absolutely not,"@@ you mutter, cycling through them. And then you see the horse head. It looms from the lower depths of the bin like a cursed artifact. It's fully made of rubber, and its glossy black eyes catch the light strangely. It's ridiculous, enormous, and a terrible choice. Yet, it feels like fate. Jordan notices the pause in your movement. @@.jordan;"Ah,"@@ he says, following your gaze. @@.jordan;"The beast reveals itself."@@ @@.player;"I am ''not'' going to choose the rubber horse,"@@ you say, although not even you believe yourself. @@.jordan;"Yet here we are,"@@ he says solemnly. @@.jordan;"On the edge of destiny."@@ Noelle leans in just a little, peering around your arm. Her eyes widen. @@.noelle;"Oh. Wow. That's, um, very big."@@ @@.player;"It's staring at me,"@@ you whisper. @@.jordan;"It //does// have judgmental eyes,"@@ Jordan observes, squinting at the horse head. @@.jordan;"Like it's seen many foolish actors before you."@@ You try to ignore it and pull out a detective's coat instead. @@.player;"What do you think of this?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"You'd survive the scene with dignity intact,"@@ Jordan says. Noelle nods encouragingly. @@.noelle;"It's... nice. You'd look very cool."@@ You hum, pretending to weigh it, before setting it aside anyway. Your eyes drift, betraying you, right back to the horse. You lift out a nurse's cap yet, small and white with a red cross stitched at the front. @@.player;"What about this?"@@ @@.noelle;"It's kind of cute,"@@ Noelle says, lifting her head thoughtfully. @@.jordan;"I approve of a healer joining the crew,"@@ Jordan states, smirking. @@.jordan;"Every pirate ship needs medical support."@@ You pretend to seriously consider it, but your gaze drifts once more into the depths of the bin. Horse. @@.jordan;"You keep looking at it like it's calling your name,"@@ Jordan says, noticing immediately. @@.player;"I think it is,"@@ you echo. @@.player;"In, like, a very cursed way."@@ @@.noelle;"You... you don't have to pick the scary one just because it's there, you know,"@@ Noelle comments. You laugh weakly. @@.player;"That's the problem. I kind of do."@@ @@.jordan;"I don't know how the scene will go if you put that on,"@@ Jordan says, peering down at the horse head. @@.player;"That's what scares me,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"That's what excites me,"@@ he counters. <<button "Giant rubber horse head?" "Day 22 - 12">><</button>>

You stare into the hollow, lifeless eyes of the giant rubber horse head for a long while. It stares back, unblinking and ancient. Jordan tilts his pirate hat. @@.jordan;"I can see the fear in yer eyes, lad."@@ Noelle shifts nervously beside you, clutching the edge of her babushka. @@.noelle;"You don't have to //actually// choose that one, you know."@@ Your hand reaches out anyway. You lift the horse head from bin the anyway. It's heavier than it looks, the rubber warm and faintly dusty from years in storage. You hesitate for a fraction of a second before pulling it down over your head. The world instantly turns black around the edges, warped through mesh and foggy plastic. Your breathing echoes inside it. The weight settles on your shoulders. Somewhere to your left, Jordan lets out a sharp laugh. @@.jordan;"Oh, we might just be doomed,"@@ he says. Noelle gasps softly. @@.noelle;"It's... very big."@@ You reach up and adjust the jaw slightly so you can actually see. The horse's mouth is frozen wide open in a permanent scream. You look like a creature summoned from a surreal nightmare. Before anyone can say another word, Mr. Bennet claps his hands loudly at the front of the room. @@.boy;"AND WE ARE OFF!"@@ he bellows. @@.boy;"First group up is... you three in the corner! Yes, you! Pirate! Babushka! Unholy Equine Entity! The universe has spoken!"@@ Your stomach drops straight through the floor. Jordan turns slowly toward you, pirate hat tilted at a dramatic angle. @@.jordan;"Ah,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"We be summoned to walk the plank."@@ @@.noelle;"First?"@@ Noelle asks, eyes flying wide. @@.noelle;"W-why are we first?!"@@ Mr. Bennet points at you with the glee of a man who lives for chaos. @@.boy;"Because fate chose you, my trembling friend! Now onto the stage!"@@ Noelle grabs lightly at your sleeve. @@.noelle;"I'm not ready, though..."@@ Jordan steps forward without hesitation, already starting to get in character. He leans toward her slightly, voice dropping. @@.jordan;"You are ready, alright? Don't think. Just react."@@ @@.noelle;"O-okay,"@@ Noelle says, swallowing hard. You stumble your way toward the small open stage at the front of the room, vision bobbing awkwardly with every step. You can feel eyes on you. Laughter ripples through the class the second the horse head comes into view. Jordan climbs onto the stage like he owns it, immediately striking a dramatic stance. Noelle follows with tiny, careful steps, hands folded nervously in front of her. Mr. Bennet throws both arms wide. @@.boy;"Your scene prompt is... 'A desperate meeting at the edge of the world!' BEGIN!"@@ Jordan immediately plants one boot forward and sweeps off his imaginary coat. @@.jordan;"Arr! The fog be thick on these cursed cliffs,"@@ he booms. @@.jordan;"And yet I feel we are not alone..."@@ All eyes turn to you. You take one slow, lumbering step forward. The horse head wobbles slightly and laughter erupts. Noelle freezes, realizing it's her turn to act. Then something in her changes. She straightens, takes two small steps forward, and peers up at Jordan from beneath the floral edge of her babushka. @@.noelle;"Ach,"@@ she says softly, in a light Russian accent. @@.noelle;"I told you this place is cursed, captain."@@ Jordan's grin widens, impressed despite himself. @@.jordan;"Babushka knows these dreadful lands?"@@ he asks, playing off her instinctively. @@.noelle;"I have seen many winters in mother Russia,"@@ Noelle says, more confident now. @@.noelle;"Many storms, many famines, many people who came and went. And once, a long time ago, even a beast like this."@@ She turns slowly toward you. You angle the massive rubber horse head down toward her. The effect is absurd yet strangely intense. @@.jordan;"A horse demon?"@@ Jordan asks. @@.noelle;"No,"@@ Noelle says. @@.noelle;"Something far, far worse. A man who chose the body of a monster to hide his guilt."@@ Someone in the class murmurs, @@.boy;"Oh damn."@@ Jordan's eyebrows lift in surprise. He clearly wasn't expecting that turn, especially with the way Noelle was acting a few minutes ago. He circles you slowly, shoes heavy and deliberate. @@.jordan;"Then speak, beast of regret. Are ye villain or victim?"@@ All eyes land on you again. Inside the horse head, your heart is pounding. You can barely see. Shit, you can barely even breathe. But the energy of the room is electric now. Noelle is locked in, Jordan is locked in, and you're going to have to lock in. Noelle looks up at you with wide, earnest eyes. @@.noelle;"Tell us,"@@ she urges softly. @@.noelle;"Before the neverending storm takes us all."@@ Jordan plants his foot and points at you. @@.jordan;"Make it good, horse-demon."@@ <<button "Make a tragic confession" "Day 22 - 13">>\<<set $d22improv to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_improv" "Make a tragic confession" "story">><</button>> <<button "Make an absurd claim" "Day 22 - 13">>\<<set $d22improv to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_improv" "Make an absurd claim" "story">><</button>> <<button "Make a dark threat" "Day 22 - 13">>\<<set $d22improv to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D22_improv" "Make a dark threat" "story">><</button>>

<<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d22improv is 0>>\ The room holds its breath. Inside the suffocating rubber shell, your heart is hammering so hard you're sure they can hear it through the mask. When you speak, your voice comes out deeper than expected. @@.player;"I was not always like this,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"Once, I was a man."@@ A ripple moves through the room. Jordan stills while Noelle's eyes widen, fully locked into the moment now. @@.player;"I walked the streets at night,"@@ you continue, the words coming easier with each line. @@.player;"Chasing truths no one wanted found. I followed, tracks, lies, and dried blood in the snow."@@ Jordan's pirate grins fades as he leans in. @@.jordan;"A detective,"@@ he murmurs. You nod, the massive horse head dipping heavily. @@.player;"A good one. Or so I thought."@@ Noelle takes a hesitant step toward you, her hands trembling slightly but her voice steady. @@.noelle;"Then why the curse?"@@ she asks gently. @@.noelle;"Why trade your soul for this body?"@@ You turn fully toward her. @@.player;"Because I was wrong."@@ The words land hard. @@.player;"I chased a man I believed to be a monster,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I gathered proof. Sufficient evidence, I believed. I cornered him at the docks as the tide was rising. And when he begged me to listen... I didn't."@@ Jordan circles behind you. @@.jordan;"What did ye do to him, detective?"@@ Your chest tightens. @@.player;"He refused to come with me,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But that only strengthened my resolve. We struggled on the piers, and he fell into the water. The next morning, the ocean carried his corpse back to shore. He was innocent, but not treated as such."@@ The room is so quiet you can hear someone shift in their seat. Noelle lifts one trembling hand to her mouth in character, eyes glistening. @@.noelle;"And you could not live with what you'd done."@@ @@.player;"I tried,"@@ you say. @@.player;"God, I tried. But guilt doesn't fade, Babushka. It only festers."@@ You take another heavy step forward. @@.player;"So I sought a witch at the edge of the world. I begged her to take my face, my hands, my name, everything that made me me. Anything so long as she took the memory with it."@@ @@.jordan;"And what happened?"@@ Jordan asks. @@.player;"She gave me this,"@@ you say. @@.player;"A body that cannot forget. A shape that cannot pass among the living. A punishment I must wear until the sea forgives me."@@ Noelle's fear breaks into sorrow. She steps closer and lifts her shawl up slightly. @@.noelle;"You carry this alone, detective?"@@ @@.player;"Every day,"@@ you answer. The pirate's bravado cracks just a little as Jordan steps between the two of you, eyes fierce. @@.jordan;"Then redemption is still possible, beast or not. The sea judges harshly, yes, but it does not judge forever."@@ @@.noelle;"You can still choose what kind of soul you are now,"@@ Noelle says, nodding quickly. You let out a slow, shaking breath through the mask. @@.player;"Then look upon me,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Not as a monster, but as a man who is trying to atone for his sins."@@ @@.jordan;"Then swear it, detective,"@@ Jordan says, lifting his imaginary blade and planting it into the floor. @@.jordan;"Swear before storm and tide."@@ @@.noelle;"Swear before memory,"@@ Noelle says, resting her trembling hand over her heart. You bow the massive horse head slowly. @@.player;"I swear."@@ The three of you stand frozen in a silent triangle as the lights go out. The darkness holds for a few long seconds before the lights snap back on. The classroom reappears in a wash of yellow stage light and fluorescent hum. The silence is thick, and it's clear the entire class is stunned. Many need to recalibrate from cursed detective horses and storm-tossed redemption. And then Mr. Bennet explodes. He claps so hard it echoes off the wall. @@.boy;"YES! YES! YES!"@@ he booms, pacing in a frantic little circle like he might actually vibrate into another dimension from joy. @@.boy;"That is what I'm talking about, Pacific Crest Drama!"@@ He spins toward the class, arms thrown wide. @@.boy;"Given a pirate, a babushka, and a rubber horse, they boldly chose tragedy. They chose depth. They chose emotional consequence!"@@ He points dramatically at you. @@.boy;"You turned that silly horse mask into existential despair and guilt."@@ You lift one awkward hand in appreciation. @@.boy;"And you!"@@ Mr. Bennet says, whirling dramatically toward Jordan. @@.boy;"You glorious sea dog! You grounded that madness with conviction and command. You made the scene feel real and gave it it's spine."@@ Jordan straightens a little under the praise. He's trying not to look pleased, but failing at hiding the faint curve of his mouth. @@.boy;"And Miss Babushka of the soul,"@@ Mr. Bennet continues, spinning toward Noelle. @@.boy;"Do you have any idea what you just did?"@@ Noelle freezes. @@.noelle;"N-No?"@@ she squeaks out. @@.noelle;"I mean, yes?"@@ @@.boy;"You anchored the entire emotional arc, my dear!"@@ he declares. @@.boy;"Still, quiet, devastating presence. You didn't oversell or undersell. You listened and let the scene follow you. That is real acting."@@ Noelle's mouth opens slightly. @@.noelle;"I did?"@@ @@.boy;"You absolutely did,"@@ he says, beaming. @@.boy;"Class, that is how you turn chaos into character!"@@ A wave of applause finally breaks across the room. Your heart is still racing as you shuffle off the stage, carefully lifting the horse head off. Jordan stays in character for exactly two more steps, then immediately drops the pirate posture the second you're out of the spotlight. @@.jordan;"Okay, to be honest, that was way better than it had any right to be."@@ Noelle stumbles a little on the way back to your corner, hands trembling. @@.noelle;"How did I even do that?"@@ she blurts in a quiet rush. @@.noelle;"I was so nervous, my hands were shaking, and then once we were up there I just... I don't know! I didn't think anymore, it just came out."@@ @@.player;"You didn't just 'do okay,' Noelle,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You kind of carried the whole emotional weight of that scene."@@ She blinks, stunned. @@.noelle;"I did?"@@ Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"You did. You were solid all the way through. You were nervous, and that's the natural reaction to have. But you managed to stay focused anyway. That's impressive."@@ Noelle's cheeks redden immediately, color blooming under the edge of the babushka. She presses her hands to her face in embarrassment. @@.noelle;"Oh my God... That might've been the first time in my life that I didn't feel invisible."@@ As the three of you slide back into your seats, the rest of the class finally reacts in earnest. @@.boy;"How are we supposed to go after that?"@@ someone groans dramatically. @@.girl;"Yeah, 'cause my costume is a toaster,"@@ another student complains. @@.girl;"What am I meant to do with a toaster?"@@ Mr. Bennet overhears the conversation and cackles with delight. @@.boy;"Then I expect existential breakfast!"@@ @@.jordan;"They're doomed,"@@ Jordan whispers. Noelle giggles softly. Your ridiculous trio didn't just survive the madness, you owned it. <<elseif $d22improv is 1>>\ You clear your throat inside the suffocating rubber prison of the horse head. Then you speak. @@.player;"Woah, woah, woah. Hold your horses, everybody. I am not a villain or a victim. I am a perfectly normal horse who was minding his own damn business five minutes ago."@@ The class erupts into laughter. Jordan freezes, not having expected this twist. Noelle blinks, caught off guard as well. You lift both of your "hooves" in surrender. @@.player;"I was just grazing. Eating some perfectly innocent hay. Next thing I know, bam! I'm summoned to a curse cliff with a pirate and someone's grandma."@@ Noelle is trying ''very'' hard not to laugh. Jordan, on the other hand, recovers instantly. He pivots smoothly into the new tone. @@.jordan;"Arr, ye claim innocence, foul steed. But beasts who speak often hide dark secrets!"@@ You shake the massive horse head exaggeratedly. @@.player;"Dark secrets? Buddy, my darkest secret is that I once stole a whole bag of sugar cubes and blamed it on my friend, Mac."@@ Someone in the front row howls. Noelle hesitates only a second before she jumps back in, her babushka slipping a little as she steps forward with new confidence. @@.noelle;"Hush, captain,"@@ she scolds, suddenly very grandmotherly. @@.noelle;"The creature speaks with the voice of truth, can't you tell? Just look at his eyes."@@ You lean in toward her melodramatically. @@.player;"These eyes? Oh, these eyes have seen things. Mostly apples. Sometimes carrots. Once, I saw a pineapple. That was a weird day."@@ Jordan bites the inside of his cheek, clearly trying not to laugh as he circles you. @@.jordan;"Then why be ye summoned to the edge of the world, noble farm beast?"@@ @@.player;"Vacation, obviously,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You ever been a horse? It's all work, no personal days. You always have a person on your back. It doesn't feel good, man. I needed a day off."@@ The class is losing it. Even students at the back of the room who hadn't been paying any attention are laughing. @@.noelle;"Pirate... I think he is telling truth,"@@ Noelle says, pressing a hand to her mouth. @@.noelle;"No evil sorcerer would create something so stupid."@@ @@.player;"Thank you!"@@ you say. @@.player;"See, Babushka gets it. You can always count on the Russians."@@ @@.jordan;"But if ye are but humble livestock, why is the sea roaring and the sky turning black?"@@ Jordan asks. You tilt the horse head dramatically upward as if staring into a storm only you can see. @@.player;"Oh, that? Yeah that's not about me. That's about //him//."@@ Jordan pauses. @@.jordan;"Him?"@@ @@.player;"The boar,"@@ you say, lowering your voice conspiratorially. Noelle gasps. @@.noelle;The boar?"@@ You nod gravely. @@.player;"Evil. Unionized. They drove out the humans and took over the farm."@@ Jordan lets out an involuntary laugh, which he disguises as a pirate cough. @@.jordan;"Arr... a rebellious pig empire. I should've known."@@ Noelle steps between you both, suddenly fearless. @@.noelle;"Then we must stop this boar,"@@ she declares. @@.noelle;"For the safety of all villages and vegetables."@@ You stomp once. @@.player;"Finally, someone who understands my mission!"@@ Jordan draws his imaginary sword. @@.jordan;"Then we sail at dawn. Pirate, horse, and Babushka against the forces of chaos."@@ @@.player;"Wait, I'm sailing?"@@ you ask, freezing. @@.player;"Crap, man. That's rough. I get seasick."@@ The class explodes again. Noelle shakes her head gently. @@.noelle;"Then you will ride in the cabin and complain the entire way. Like a true hero."@@ You lift one "hoof" to your chest. @@.player;"It's my destiny."@@ Jordan points his imaginary blade toward the horizon. @@.jordan;"Then onward, strange companions! To battle and to glory!"@@ @@.player;"And to snacks,"@@ you add. He pauses. @@.jordan;"...And to snacks."@@ The three of you strike a ridiculously heroic pose. The room erupts into applause and laughter as the lights go out. You pull the horse head up just enough to gulp in fresh air, heart still racing. Noelle is flushed, smiling wide. Jordan looks genuinely impressed with this ragtag group of improv actors. The stage lights flick fully back on, and you immediately spot Mr. Bennet. He's wiping at his eyes dramatically as if he's just witnessed a masterpiece, rather than a pirate, a babushka, and a horse ranting about unionized pigs. @@.boy;"THAT,"@@ he booms, pointing at the three of you, @@.boy;"is what I am talking about."@@ He paces across the front of the room, eyes bright with genuine delight. @@.boy;"You didn't fight the ridiculousness, no. Instead, you embraced it. You leaned into it. You listened to each other and built the story together. That is how comedy works, my brave little chaos architects!"@@ A few students clap again. Mr. Bennet is always hyped up, sure, but this is more than usual. @@.boy;"You took what should have been nonsense, and turned it into intentional nonsense,"@@ Mr. Bennet continues, jabbing a finger toward the horse head still perched on your shoulders. @@.boy;"This is an art."@@ Your face burns red behind the rubber. You awkwardly lift the horse head up in acknowledgment. It's kind of like a bow, you suppose. He turns to Noelle next, voice softening a little. @@.boy;"And you, my dear, your timing was perfect. Subtle reactions and grounded choices. You anchored the scene emotionally while letting the absurd float on top."@@ @@.noelle;"I... I did?"@@ Noelle asks, freezing up. @@.boy;"You did,"@@ he says warmly. @@.boy;"And you should be very proud."@@ Her eyes widen and shine. Jordan gets the next pointed gesture. @@.boy;"And you, captain. Strong leadership and excellent energy control. You let your partners shine without losing command of the scene."@@ Jordan straightens a little, pirate hat still on his head. He //tries// to act stoic, but you can catch his lips twitching. @@.jordan;"Thank you, sir."@@ @@.boy;"Truly an excellent opening act,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, clasping his hands together. @@.boy;"The rest of you? Well, good luck trying to follow that."@@ A collective groan echoes across the room. @@.girl;"That's not fair,"@@ someone mutters. @@.boy;"The class peaked too early,"@@ another complains. @@.girl;"How did they make it funny?"@@ You finally pull the horse head off completely, hair damp with sweat already. Your lungs are thankful for real air that hasn't been filtered through plastic horse. As the three of you step down from the front of the room and make your way down toward the seats, the adrenaline still hums through your body. Noelle clutches the edge of her babushka as she walks, eyes wide and distant, like she's only now realizing what she just did. @@.noelle;"Oh my God, how did I even do that?"@@ she whispers breathlessly. @@.noelle;"I was ''so'' nervous... I couldn't even feel my hands at first. But then I started talking and... Oh my God, I don't know! It just //worked//."@@ @@.player;"You crushed it,"@@ you say, grinning at her. Jordan slows to match her step, looking at her. @@.jordan;"Noelle, listen to me. You didn't panic, and you committed to the scene well. That's what matters. You did great."@@ Noelle looks at him like she's not sure she heard correctly. @@.noelle;"You really think so?"@@ @@.jordan;"Trust me, I don't say things I don't mean,"@@ he replies simply. Her face warms instantly. She ducks her head a little, smiling to herself. @@.noelle;"I've never done that well before..."@@ @@.jordan;"You earned it,"@@ Jordan says. You can't help but smile at the exchange. Behind you, though, a few students are already groaning loudly. @@.boy;"How are we meant to match unionized evil hogs?"@@ someone complains. @@.girl;"All I have is a frying pan,"@@ another adds. @@.girl;"We're doomed."@@ Mr. Bennet claps his hands. @@.boy;"Less despair and more imagination, everyone! Into your scenes!"@@ Jordan drops into a seat beside you, finally removing the pirate hat and resting it on his knee. Noelle sits on your other side, still buzzing. Her fingers are fidgeting with her babushka, which she still hasn't taken off. @@.player;"That was insane,"@@ you murmur. Noelle lets out a quiet giggle. @@.noelle;"I still feel like I'm going to wake up and realize I fainted onstage."@@ As the next group stumbles their way onto the stage and the room settles, the three of you ride the high of something unexpected together. <<elseif $d22improv is 2>>\ You slowly tilt the massive head upward. When you speak, your voice comes out low and rough. Its further distorted by the rubber, turning it into something barely human. @@.player;"You ask if I am villain or victim..."@@ You take one heavy step forward. @@.player;"I was once a man who begged the world for mercy,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"And when the world gave me none... I became something else."@@ Noelle doesn't flinch. Her eyes widen slightly, but she stays in character. Her hands shake a bit as she clutches her shawl. Jordan adjusts instinctively, angling his body toward you like he's ready for a fight. @@.jordan;"And what are ye now, beast?"@@ he asks, voice tense. @@.jordan;"A cursed soul seekin' redemption... or a demon hungerin' for more blood?"@@ You let out a slow breath through the horse's open mouth. @@.player;"I chose this form to bury my sins,"@@ you say. @@.player;"To hide the hands that once destroyed."@@ You lurch closer. @@.player;"But sin is patient,"@@ you growl. @@.player;"And it ''always'' remembers."@@ A ripple of unease passes through the watching students. Someone in the front row stops laughing. Someone in the back whispers, @@.girl;"Oh my God."@@ Noelle steps forward, voice trembling. @@.noelle;"Then you are damned,"@@ she says softly. @@.noelle;"Once you taste sin, it'll never let you go."@@ You turn slowly to face her. The huge glassy eyes of the horse lock onto hers. @@.player;"I ''want'' more,"@@ you say, the words landing hard. @@.player;"Pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony, and sloth."@@ Jordan swears under his breath in character. @@.jordan;"Shit. Ye admit it freely, then? You're a creature of sin?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"The man I was feared judgment. The monster I am... craves consequence."@@ A nervous laugh breaks from somewhere in the class. @@.jordan;"Then I reckon this be the end of our little parley,"@@ Jordan says, circling you warily. He stops and pulls an imaginary blade from his belt. @@.jordan;"For every soul you've taken, beast... I'll give them peace."@@ You snap your head toward him. The movement is sudden and violent. Noelle gasps softly. @@.player;"You think you hunt me, pirate,"@@ you snarl. @@.player;"But I //led// you here."@@ Jordan freezes. Noelle stumbles back a step, eyes wide. @@.noelle;"Captain this creature feeds on evil."@@ The lights in the room hum softly overhead. @@.jordan;"Then let it feed!"@@ Jordan roars, planting his feet. @@.jordan;"I won't run from hell."@@ You take one slow step. Then another. The class is completely silent now. Noelle's voice rises, thin but fierce. @@.noelle;"Both of you, stop. If either of you strike, the storm will come."@@ @@.player;"Too late,"@@ you whisper, lifting both hooves. Jordan raises his imaginary sword. @@.jordan;"Then so be it!"@@ Jordan shouts. @@.jordan;"Babushka, now!"@@ Noelle cries out in her voice, full of desperate power. @@.noelle;"Ancient spirits, bind the sinner!"@@ She sweeps her hands downward. You stagger back dramatically, clutching your chest. An inhuman roar tears from your throat, the horse's throat, as you drop to one knee. Jordan races forward, blade raised high. @@.jordan;"For every sin remembered!"@@ Noelle steps forward now. @@.noelle;"For every soul unburdened!"@@ @@.jordan;"BE RELEASED!"@@ You let out one final, shuddering breath before collapsing fully to the floor. Your limbs are splayed unnaturally and the horse head tilts sideways. The lights go out. For a long time, no one in the room moves. Then the stage lights snap fully on again. And Mr. Bennet explodes. @@.boy;"Yes! YES! That's what I'm talking about!"@@ he bellows, clapping so hard it echoes off the walls. @@.boy;"Oh, that was deliciously unhinged. Absolutely feral. A pirate, a babushka, and a demon horse walk into the edge of the world and you turn it into a tragedy? Chef's kiss, my dears. Chef's. Kiss."@@ You push yourself up off the floor awkwardly, the horse head wobbling as you sit up. The class breaks into loud chatter. Some are shocked, some are impressed, some are laughing in disbelief that //that// costume delivered a genuinely chilling performance. Mr. Bennet points at the three of you like you've personally validated his teaching career. @@.boy;"You took the silliest possible visual setup and committed to a dark tone. You trusted the reality of the scene instead of the joke. That is advanced instinct work, kids. Advanced, I tell you!"@@ @@.boy;"Horse! You leaned into menace instead of comedy. Babushka! You anchored the emotional weight with restraint. Pirate! You gave us structure and stakes. That, my friend, is ensemble work."@@ A few students groan from the back. @@.boy;"Man, how are we supposed to follow that?"@@ @@.boy;"No pressure or anything,"@@ someone mutters. Mr. Bennet beams. @@.boy;"Now you're awake."@@ You stagger off the stage space toward your seats, carefully taking off the horse head. The second you're out of the spotlight, your knees go a little weak. The adrenaline drains, leaving you dizzy. Noelle trails alongside you, hands trembling slightly now that it's over. @@.noelle;"I don't even understand what just happened,"@@ she says, laughing breathlessly. You clutch the horse head under one arm, gulping in fresh air. @@.player;"Honestly? You were incredible,"@@ you say. @@.noelle;"I was //terrified//,"@@ Noelle says. @@.noelle;"I thought I was going to forget how to talk. And then suddenly it was like I just //knew// what to say. I wasn't thinking anymore."@@ Jordan, still wearing the pirate hat for some reason, smiles. @@.jordan;"That's what real acting feels like,"@@ he says simply. @@.jordan;"You didn't force it. You listened, you reacted, and you trusted the moment."@@ She looks up at him, stunned. @@.noelle;"You really think I did okay?"@@ Jordan stops walking and turns fully toward her. @@.jordan;"Noelle, you carried the entire emotional spine of that scene. Without you, it would've just been a dude yelling at a horse."@@ You snort. @@.noelle;"I've never had anyone say something that nice about my acting before,"@@ Noelle says, laughing weakly. @@.jordan;"Well, get used to it,"@@ Jordan says. Her eyes shine, and she can't help but smile. When the three of you reach the open seats in the back, the noise in the room is loud. Other groups are scrambling, suddenly nervous. A pair near the costume bin is arguing. @@.boy;"We should've picked better costumes,"@@ one of them mutters. @@.girl;"Think we can switch?"@@ @@.boy;"They literally had the stupidest costumes and ended up summoning a demon. We're dead."@@ Mr. Bennet claps again. @@.boy;"Alright! Next trio, the three of you over there. Yes, you. Don't try and hide. Remember to not try and copy what they did. You'll fail. Your job is to listen to each other and make something unique!"@@ A few students glance back at your group with resentment written on their faces. The horse head rests at your feet, Noelle sits stiffly beside you, and Jordan finally removes the pirate hat. The three of you somehow managed to make a rubber horse head the scariest thing in the room. <</if>>\ <<button "Improv over!" "Day 22 - 14">><</button>>

The energy in the room is still buzzing from your group's improv. Even now, a few students nearby whisper and sneak glances at you. You, Jordan, and Noelle have retreated to the back row of the theater seats while the next groups take their turns on stage. The lights are dimmer back here, and there's less noise and chaos. Noelle sits with her knees drawn together, babushka still tied neatly beneath her chin. She hasn't taken it off yet, like part of her is still holding onto the safety of the character she just played. Jordan leans back. Even at rest, he looks alert. His eyes attentively track the stage, like he's watching for both mistakes and moments of brilliance. You sit between them, the adrenaline slowly draining from your system now that the performance is over. You're not wearing your costume anymore, obviously. The horse head lies on the floor, its blank eyes staring at you. Onstage, another group fumbles their way through a wildly incoherent scene involving a cowboy, a ballerina, and a traffic cone. The audience laughs, but only to be polite. Mr. Bennet shouts something about "committing harder to the bit." During a quieter stretch, when groups are switching, Noelle shifts beside you. She hesitates, and you can tell she's working herself up to say something. Her fingers twist together once, then again. @@.noelle;"Um... can I ask you both something?"@@ she says softly. @@.player;"Yeah, sure,"@@ you say, glancing at her. @@.player;"What's up?"@@ Jordan turns his head toward her too. @@.jordan;"Shoot."@@ She looks down first, gathering courage, then lifts her eyes to the two of you. @@.noelle;"Why did you join theater?"@@ It's a simple question, or at least it //should// be. The way she asks it though makes it feel heavier than that. Like she's not just asking about an elective, but about something personal. Jordan studies her for a second, debating how to respond. @@.jordan;"Hey, you asked it,"@@ he said, giving a small nod toward her. @@.jordan;"You go first."@@ Her shoulders tense slightly at being put on the spot. @@.noelle;"Oh, uh, okay."@@ She takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly. @@.noelle;"I joined because I have really bad social anxiety,"@@ she says honestly. @@.noelle;"Talking to people is hard. Being seen is hard. I thought maybe if I pretended to be someone else for a while, it would be easier. Like m-maybe I could borrow a different version of myself. Someone braver. Someone who isn't me."@@ She clutches her fist. @@.noelle;"I-I don't really like who I am,"@@ she admits, barely above a whisper. @@.noelle;"So I thought maybe if I learned how to act... I could learn how to change."@@ The words settle between the three of you, soft and fragile. Onstage, someone flubs a line and the audience laughs, but that sound feels miles away. It's muffled by the weight of what Noelle just shared. Jordan's sharp edge dulls instantly. @@.jordan;"That must've taken a lot to say,"@@ he tells her quietly. Noelle shrugs. @@.noelle;"I'm still not very good at it. Being brave, I mean."@@ @@.jordan;"Noelle, you //are// brave,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"You were there onstage in front of thirty people and nailed it. Then, you worked up the courage to tell us about your experience. That's not nothing."@@ Her eyes widen. @@.noelle;"You think so?"@@ @@.jordan;"I know so,"@@ he says. You see how carefully he chooses his words now. For someone who usually couldn't care less, it's clear he doesn't want to bruise something already tender. Another group is called to the stage. The room fills with people shifting and quiet laughter, but the little pocket the three of you occupy stays hushed. Jordan draws a quiet breath as he prepares to answer her question. @@.jordan;"I was born into a football family,"@@ he says. His voice is calm, sure, but there's an undercurrent of something. Frustration, maybe. @@.jordan;"It's not just 'my dad likes football' kind of family. I mean football ''is'' the family."@@ Noelle shifts slightly beside you, listening intently. @@.jordan;"My dad's a coach at Crestview Bay University, the one here,"@@ Jordan continues. @@.jordan;"He's been a defense coordinator my whole life. My older brother's in D1 right now over at Vanderbilt. Starting linebacker."@@ The faintest hint of a bitter smile touches his mouth. @@.jordan;"He's exactly what they wanted, I guess. He lives for the game."@@ He glances up briefly, eyes flicking to the stage where a group is currently improvising a dramatic breakup between a wizard and a mailman. @@.jordan;"My mom works off the field, running everything in the background,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Half of the stuff this school does? Ms. Brooks takes care of it. PTA, fundraisers, booster clubs, travel logistics. If it supports football, she's on it."@@ @@.jordan;"When I was a kid, I didn't really question any of it,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I just did what they told me. Practice, training, camps, games every weekend, film review. Rinse and repeat 24/7. I was good at it, so everyone decided that meant it was me."@@ He pauses, then adds quietly, @@.jordan;"When you're a kid, you kind of believe whatever they tell you you are."@@ You feel that line settle deep in your chest. @@.jordan;"The first time I saw a play, I was twelve,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"My mom dragged me to it because some booster parent's kid was in it. Football politics, I suppose. I didn't even want to be there. I remember sitting in the back with my arms crossed, just waiting for it to end."@@ His eyes soften. @@.jordan;"And then... Shit, I don't know. Something just clicked. I watched people become other people without pads or numbers on their backs. They weren't being measured by yards or tackles. They were being measured by feeling."@@ He swallows. @@.jordan;"I'd never seen anything like it. I don't think I ever //will// experience something like that again. I went home and tried to pretend to be one of the characters in my room like an idiot. Closed the door and said the lines out loud. And for the first time, I wasn't thinking about drills or plays or expectations. I was just... there."@@ Noelle's hands tighten in her lap. @@.jordan;"So I told them I wanted to try theater,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"They refused. Year after year, they said no. They said I would be splitting my focus with a distraction. That recruiters and colleges don't care about acting. I barely managed to get in drama this year. My senior year. I had to pull out every trick I had in my bag to get them to let me choose this elective."@@ His lips press together as Noelle looks up at him with wide, sympathetic eyes. @@.jordan;"I'm tired,"@@ Jordan says quietly. @@.jordan;"I'm tired of being forced into something I never chose to do. I'm tired of fighting for scraps of time to do the one thing that actually feels like mine."@@ He glances at the stage again, where laughter breaks out over a mistaken line. @@.jordan;"I don't hate football, but it's not my dream,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"It's theirs. And I think I'm finally starting to understand that those aren't the same thing."@@ For a moment, no one speaks. Even Noelle is silent, her gaze fixed on Jordan. @@.jordan;"Fuck, I really delivered a monologue there, huh?"@@ Jordan says awkwardly, trying to dissolve the tension. @@.jordan;"I didn't mean to say all that."@@ <<button "It's okay to want a life that's your own" "Day 22 - 15">>\<<set $d22jordanmonologue to true>>\<<trackChoice "D22_jordanmonologue" "It's okay to want a life that's your own" "rel">><</button>> <<button "At least you have a stable future lined up" "Day 22 - 15">>\<<set $d22jordanmonologue to false>>\<<trackChoice "D22_jordanmonologue" "At least you have a stable future lined up" "rel">><</button>>

<<if $d22jordanmonologue is true>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Wanting something different doesn't make you ungrateful,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"And it definitely doesn't make you weak."@@ Jordan's eyes flick to you. @@.player;"You can be good at football and still not want it to be your whole life,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Your family chose football, not you. If anything, I think it's... kind of messed up that nobody ever let you choose."@@ The words come easier than you expected them to. @@.player;"You're allowed to want this,"@@ you add, nodding toward the stage. @@.player;"You're allowed to want //any// future that actually feels like it belongs to you."@@ For a moment, Jordan just looks at you. The pirate hat droops slightly over one eye, ridiculous in contrast to how serious his expression is right now. Noelle hesitates before finding her voice. @@.noelle;"Well, I think it's brave,"@@ she says softly. @@.noelle;"Wanting to be something different from what everyone already decided you are. It's scary, but it means you know yourself."@@ Jordan turns toward her, surprised. She gathers the little confidence she has she continues. @@.noelle;"Following your dreams is... kind of the point."@@ Jordan exhales softly, tension draining out of his posture. He leans back in his seat, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. @@.jordan;"Thanks,"@@ he says quietly. @@.jordan;"Both of you."@@ He lowers his hand. @@.jordan;"I really needed to hear that. I don't get told that kind of thing. Ever."@@ @@.noelle;"You deserve it,"@@ Noelle says, offering a shy smile. A faint smile finally breaks through on Jordan's face. He studies the two of you for a second longer, like he's filing the moment away as a memory. @@.jordan;"Alright,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Enough of me. Your turn, $name."@@ Noelle looks to you too, curiosity brimming in her eyes. @@.noelle;"Y-Yeah. I'm kinda curious. Why //did// you join theater?"@@ <<button "I joined on a whim" "Day 22 - 16">>\<<set $d22theaterreason to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_theaterreason" "I joined on a whim" "story">><</button>> <<button "I joined because I wanted to experiment with my presentation" "Day 22 - 16">>\<<set $d22theaterreason to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_theaterreason" "I joined because I wanted to experiment with my presentation" "story">><</button>> <<button "I joined because I like theater" "Day 22 - 16">>\<<set $d22theaterreason to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D22_theaterreason" "I joined because I like theater" "story">><</button>> <<button "I joined because I thought it'd be an easy elective" "Day 22 - 16">>\<<set $d22theaterreason to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D22_theaterreason" "I joined because I thought it'd be an easy elective" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate a little before speaking. You mean well. You really do. But the words you choose land wrong the moment they leave your mouth. @@.player;"Well, at least you're really good at football,"@@ you say gently. @@.player;"You're Jordan Brooks! Starting quarterback. You've got a whole future built into that already. A lot of people would kill for that kind of security. Theater could still just be something you do on the side, right?"@@ The moment you finish speaking, Jordan's eyes flicker. It's a brief tightening, like a door quietly shutting behind them. The openness in his face drains away, replaced by something guarded. The warmth that had softened his voice only a few seconds ago evaporates. @@.jordan;"Oh,"@@ he says. And that one quiet syllable is all. He looks away from you, back toward the stage. The pirate hat shadows his eyes again, but this time it doesn't feel playful. Rather, it feels like armor. He shifts in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. Noelle, on the other hand, stiffens. It's clear she's sensed the shift in the mood. Her eyes dart from you to Jordan, then back again. She doesn't say anything, but her fingers tighten and worry is etched into the crease between her brows. Some laughter erupts again, but it sounds hollow in your ears now. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says quietly, eyes still fixed forward. @@.jordan;"Sure."@@ You realize too late what you've done. You told him that the thing he loves should always come second to the thing everyone else chose for him. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 17">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d22theaterreason is 0>>\ You rub the back of your neck a little, suddenly feeling awkward with both of them looking at you like that. It's clear that they expect some big, defining answer. @@.player;"I mean... honestly?"@@ you say, letting out a short laugh. @@.player;"I joined on a whim."@@ Jordan blinks. @@.jordan;"On a whim."@@ @@.player;"Yeah. I was picking my electives, saw 'Theater,' and just thought that that might be interesting."@@ Noelle tilts her head slightly. @@.noelle;"You didn't... always want to do it?"@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"Not really. I'd seen a few school plays over the years. But they were all kind of awkward middle school productions. Bad sets, people forgetting their lines, kids crying on stage. It looked fun, yeah, but I didn't think it was a passion or anything."@@ @@.jordan;"And yet here you are,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. @@.player;"Here I am,"@@ you echo. @@.player;"I didn't overthink and I certainly don't have some big reason. I just figured... why not? Worse case, I'd be bored for a semester."@@ You glance toward the stage, where someone just let out a very unconvincing death scream. @@.player;"Turns out, it's way more fun than I expected."@@ @@.noelle;"You //do// always look like you're having fun up there,"@@ Noelle says. @@.player;"I am,"@@ you reaffirm. @@.player;"Certainly didn't expect to be. I thought I'd just test things out, but I didn't expect to really get into it like I have. It's nice to be dumb on purpose and mess up without it being a big deal."@@ Jordan studies you. @@.jordan;"So it wasn't a grand dream. Just human curiosity."@@ @@.player;"Pretty much,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I just said 'screw it' and jumped in."@@ Noelle giggles. @@.noelle;"I-If you ask me, that's kind of... brave in its own way."@@ You blink. @@.player;"How so?"@@ @@.noelle;"Trying something without knowing if you'll be good at it is scary,"@@ Noelle says before suddenly turning red. @@.noelle;"A-At least it is for me. I don't know if it is for everyone. Maybe other people don't mind! I do, though. Not that that //means//—"@@ Jordan interrupts. @@.jordan;"You're fine, Noelle. It is scary to do something without knowing if you'll be good at it."@@ @@.noelle;"Okay, good,"@@ Noelle says, still bug-eyed. @@.player;"I'm glad I picked it though,"@@ you say, leaning back in your chair. @@.player;"I didn't expect to care this much or meet people like... you guys."@@ @@.jordan;"Guess your 'whim' worked out,"@@ Jordan says. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply, watching the stage lights flicker. @@.player;"Yeah, it really did."@@ <<elseif $d22theaterreason is 1>>\ <<grantAchievement "D22TheaterReason">>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You stare down at your hands in your lap, then lift your gaze to the dim stage lights. @@.player;"I think I joined because I wanted to experiment with the way I present myself,"@@ you say finally. Both of them look at you carefully. @@.player;"I've always felt weird about how I come across,"@@ you continue, choosing your words slowly. @@.player;"Not in a crazy dramatic way or anything. But I never quite fit into whatever version of 'me' everyone expected to see. I don't even know who I am, to be honest."@@ You let out a small breath. @@.player;"In theater, I get to try being different people without it being strange,"@@ you say. @@.player;"If I act differently, dress differently, or speak differently, it's not questioned. It's just part of the role. Part of the exercise. There's this excuse to explore things I'd normally be too nervous to try. It's a safe place to test things out and see what feels right."@@ You don't say anything more than that, but you don't really need to. @@.noelle;"That makes sense,"@@ Noelle says first. @@.noelle;"Being able to try on different versions of yourself without people staring."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you nod. @@.player;"I don't always know who I am. But with each performance, I feel I get a little closer."@@ Jordan exhales slowly through his nose. @@.jordan;"That's actually really honest,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"And it takes guts to admit."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"It does?"@@ @@.jordan;"Most people don't question themselves that deeply, $name. They just accept whatever box they get handed."@@ Noelle offers a shy smile. @@.noelle;"I think it's kind of beautiful. Wanting to really understand yourself instead of just... settling."@@ For a moment, the three of you just sit together in quiet understanding as another group fumbles through their improv. Somewhere in the room, someone bursts into laughter. Mr. Bennet shouts, @@.boy;"Commit to the confusion."@@ Jordan finally breaks the silence with a softer voice. @@.jordan;"For what it's worth, I think whatever you're trying to figure out, you're doing it the right way."@@ @@.noelle;"I agree,"@@ Noelle says, nodding quickly. And that feels good to hear. <<elseif $d22theaterreason is 2>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I joined because I like theater,"@@ you say. Jordan blinks while Noelle tilts her head to the side slightly. @@.jordan;"That's it?"@@ Jordan asks. You nod, a little sheepish but honest. @@.player;"Yeah, I've always liked it. I used to watch plays online, clips from performances, even behind-the-scenes stuff. I never talked about it much, but it just stuck with me. I guess I didn't think I was the kind of person who actually did it."@@ @@.player;"There's just something about it. The way stories feel more real when there's an actual person standing there saying the words. The way a room goes quiet when a scene hits right. The way you can mess up, yet turn it into something new instead of it being a failure."@@ Jordan's face has completely changed by now, eyes bright. @@.jordan;"Yes,"@@ he says immediately, a grin breaking out. @@.jordan;"That. Exactly that."@@ Noelle smiles quietly, watching the two of you. @@.jordan;"It's the immediacy for me,"@@ Jordan says, suddenly energized. @@.jordan;"Like, you can't pause a live scene the way you can a movie. You have to commit, listen, and adapt in real time. That's what makes it feel so damn alive."@@ @@.player;"And the audience is part of it,"@@ you add. @@.player;"Even when they're quiet. You can feel them."@@ Jordan snaps his fingers. @@.jordan;"Exactly! That tension in the air right before a big line lands. Or when a joke either kills or totally bombs and you just have to roll with it."@@ @@.player;"I think that's my favorite part,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"When something goes wrong and everyone just keeps going anyway."@@ Noelle speaks up softly, encouraged by the lighter mood. @@.noelle;"I like how it feels different every time. Even if you do the same scene twice."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah. Same script, different energy. The timing, the delivery, even the breathing. It changes so much."@@ She nods quickly. @@.noelle;"It's like it never gets boring."@@ Jordan beams at that. @@.jordan;"See? You get it."@@ @@.player;"The creativity of it is nice,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I love that there isn't really one right way to do a scene. Two people can read the same lines and make them feel completely different."@@ Jordan nods hard. @@.jordan;"That's what drives me insane about football. It's all numbers and plays and repetition. Here, you can surprise people. You can even surprise yourself."@@ @@.player;"You really light up when you talk about this, you know,"@@ you observe. He pauses, realizes it, then grins. @@.jordan;"I guess I do."@@ You're three people on the stage for different reasons, but tied together by the simple truth: there's something special about being here. <<elseif $d22theaterreason is 3>>\ You rub the back of your neck, suddenly feeling a little awkward under both of their attention. Compared to what Jordan and Noelle just shared, your reason feels... a lot less dramatic. @@.player;"Uh,"@@ you start, glancing toward the stage, where someone just let out a very unconvincing death scream, @@.player;"mine's actually kinda lame."@@ Jordan raises a brow. @@.jordan;"Try us."@@ You let out a small laugh. @@.player;"I joined because I needed two art credits and theater fit into my schedule."@@ Noelle blinks like she's not sure she heard you right. @@.noelle;"T-That's it?"@@ she whispers. @@.player;"Pretty much,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"My counselor pulled up my classes and was like, 'You need two more fine arts credits to graduate,' and theater just... slid right into an empty slot. I didn't think about it much past that. It was either this or choir for this block, and I ''really'' didn't want to sing."@@ @@.jordan;"Wow,"@@ Jordan says, letting out a huff of amusement. @@.jordan;"Truly a tale for the ages."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Yeah, yeah. I know. Future generations will tell stories about the day I signed up for theater because it didn't overlap with physics."@@ Noelle giggles quietly. @@.player;"At first, I figured I'd just sit in the back and do the bare minimum,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"I really didn't expect to like it. I thought it'd be easy in a boring way. Just say a few lines on stage and sleep in the back."@@ You glance around the room. Costumes are scattered everywhere, someone's laughing, and Mr. Bennet is being dramatic for the millionth time. @@.player;"But then it turned out to be more than that,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's loud and weird and kind of stressful at times, but it's also fun in a way I wasn't expecting. I like watching everyone try stuff, even when it fails. I like that it doesn't feel like everything's about grades for once."@@ Jordan watches you closely, seeming to approve. @@.player;"This feels different from the rest of my day, and that's nice."@@ Noelle nods thoughtfully. @@.noelle;"I... I guess accidental things sometimes end up being the most important ones."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"Guess I got lucky."@@ Jordan leans back against the seat, studying you with an amused expression. @@.jordan;"You make it sound simple,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"But I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit. You stuck around. And not only that, you've been giving it your all. Most people who join for an easy credit bail the second Bennet makes them emote in front of everyone."@@ @@.player;"You saying I'm brave now?"@@ you ask, glancing at him. He smirks. @@.jordan;"I'm saying you didn't run when you could've."@@ Noelle smiles shyly. @@.noelle;"I'm... glad you didn't."@@ The three of you fall into silence again as another group stumbles through their scene onstage, the laughter washing over you. You lean back into your seat. For something you didn't even want to join, theater has already started to feel like something you'd miss if it were gone. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 17">><</button>>

The last improv group stumbles through the end of their scene with a dramatic bow that you're not sure has been fully earned. Scattered applause ripples across the room. Some people are being sincere, some only polite, and some are just relieved that it's finally over. Mr. Bennet claps loudly until the chatter dies down. He stands near the front of the room with his arms folded over his chest, eyes bright. It's clear by the grin on his face that he's about to pivot the mood completely. @@.boy;"Alright, my brave fools,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"Deep breaths. Stretch those emotional muscles. You survived."@@ A few students chuckle weakly. Someone in the front mutters, @@.girl;"Barely."@@ Mr. Bennet ignores it with a smile. @@.boy;"Improv is fun. Acting is fun. Chaos is fun. I live for it. You live for it. We all live for it."@@ He pauses, letting that sink in. Then his tone shifts into something more grounded. Shit. @@.boy;"But theater is not only about what //you// bring into the room,"@@ he continues, pacing slowly in front of the stage. @@.boy;"It's also about listening, interpretation, and understanding the words that came before you ever even stepped on a stage."@@ Jordan straightens, clearly interested in what Mr. Bennet has to say. Noelle sits up a little too, hands folded neatly in her lap. The energy changes in the air in the way it always does when Mr. Bennet transitions from chaos facilitator to something closer to a teacher. @@.boy;"Every script is a conversation across time,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"Between the playwright and the audience. And also between the playwright and //you//. Yes, you specifically. What they meant and what you feel. Sometimes those things line up. Sometimes they fight. That tension? That's where the real work is."@@ Someone groans softly from the back. Mr. Bennet's hand points at them without even looking. @@.boy;"Yes, Justin. I hear the dread. It sustains me."@@ A few reluctant laughs ripple through the room. Someone whispers, @@.girl;"How the hell did he know who that was?"@@ @@.boy;"So,"@@ he continues. @@.boy;"To bring us back from rubber chickens, pirates, and emotionally stunted vegetables, we're going to shift gears."@@ Jordan adjusts his pirate hat. @@.jordan;"I feel personally attacked."@@ @@.boy;"You should,"@@ Mr. Bennet says cheerfully. @@.boy;"Now. We are officially beginning our Romeo and Juliet analysis unit in earnest."@@ Groans rise from every direction. Someone dramatically slumps over as if shot. Another student mutters, @@.boy;"Shakespeare is pure evil."@@ Someone else just quietly whispers. @@.girl;"No..."@@ Mr. Bennet beams as if this is exactly the reaction he was hoping for. @@.boy;"Oh, come on. Don't look at me like that. It's not all archaic doom and tragic sonnets. It's romance! It's rebellion! It's impulsive teenagers making terrible choices. You should feel right at home."@@ That earns a few chuckles. @@.boy;"For each group,"@@ he says, clapping his hands together once, @@.boy;"I will be assigning a scene from //Romeo and Juliet//. Your job is to read it, analyze it, and discuss it amongst yourselves. Talk about what the characters are feeling, what the playwright might be saying, and what it personally means to //you//."@@ More groans. @@.boy;"No memorization or blocking just yet,"@@ Mr. Bennet adds quickly. @@.boy;"Just reading and thinking."@@ That doesn't help to quiet the misery. @@.boy;"It'll be fun!"@@ he insists brightly. No one believes him. He begins moving through the room, clipboard in hand, assigning scenes with dramatic flair. Although, to be fair, everything he does has dramatic flair. Each group reacts with a mix of resignation, confusion, or begging for the universe to save them. @@.boy;"Noelle, Jordan, $name,"@@ he calls, glancing down at his sheet. @@.boy;"You three are a trio, yes?"@@ <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ Jordan smiles. @@.jordan;"Yes we are."@@ <<else>>\ Jordan raises his hand briefly. @@.jordan;"Unfortunately."@@ <</if>>\ @@.boy;"Wonderful,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. He scans his list for a moment longer before looking up with a nod. @@.boy;"You'll be working with Act One, Scene Five."@@ Jordan's attention shifts instantly as he becomes even more focused. He knows the play by heart, and he's very familiar with this scene in particular. You can tell by the way his eyes glint. Noelle blinks. @@.noelle;"Is that... an important one?"@@ @@.jordan;"It's the masked party scene,"@@ he says quietly. @@.jordan;"Where Romeo and Juliet meet for the first time."@@ Noelle's eyes widen slightly. @@.noelle;"Oh."@@ Mr. Bennet nods with satisfaction. @@.boy;"Masks, music, and love at first sight. Excellent material for analysis. I expect strong things from you three. Scripts are on the side table."@@ You glance at Jordan and Noelle. @@.player;"Ready?"@@ Jordan is already on his feet. @@.jordan;"As I'll ever be, yeah."@@ Noelle hesitates for just a fraction of a second before standing too. The three of you weave through the crowd together, dodging flying pieces of paper and classmates already arguing about who will do what. Jordan reaches the table first and sorts through the pile. @@.jordan;"Act One, Scene Five..."@@ he murmurs, scanning the thin spines. @@.jordan;"Here."@@ He pulls out a script and slides it toward you. The paper is creased and the edges softened (or straight up ripped) from years of use. Romeo and Juliet's party scene is now in your hands. Jordan glances over at the stage. It's empty now, although one dim light brightens the wooden floor. A faint smile tugs at his mouth. @@.jordan;"We should sit up there."@@ You glance at Noelle, who stiffens immediately. @@.noelle;"On the... stage?"@@ Her voice drops. @@.noelle;"W-what if people watch?"@@ @@.jordan;"They're all busy yelling about who has to be Romeo,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. @@.jordan;"No one's paying attention."@@ That doesn't seem to fully convince her. Her shoulders draw in slightly and her postures folds inward. It's like she's trying to make herself smaller in the open space of the room. The confidence she oh so built up is already fading. @@.player;"Hey, we don't have to perform or anything,"@@ you say, offering a reassuring smile. @@.player;"We're just reading. Think of it like borrowing the space, not taking it over."@@ Noelle shifts her weight from one foot to the other before finally nodding. Jordan nods too, satisfied, and heads toward the stage without hesitation. You follow, with Noelle trailing behind you. You climb up the stairs, which creak faintly beneath your feet. Dust motes drift lazily through the light. Jordan drops onto the edge of the stage and puts his hands on his lap, pirate hat finally removed. <<set $theatergangcg to true>>\ <<set $theatergangcghair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $theatergangcgeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $theatergangcghairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $theatergangcgbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_TheaterGang">>\ @@.jordan;"Alright,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Now this feels official."@@ Noelle kneels behind Jordan, smoothing her skirt automatically. Her eyes flick around the room, but she's keeping herself composed. You sit to Jordan's left and hold up the script. The thin pages flutter softly as you find the heading. Act I Scene V — A hall in Capulet's House Jordan leans in slightly to read over your shoulder while Noelle's lips move silently as she scans the text. You lift the script a little higher, fingers resting at the edge fo the page. @@.player;"Well,"@@ you say softly, heart giving a nervous thump. @@.player;"I guess it's time to start."@@ <<button "Time to start!" "Day 22 - 18">><</button>>

You hold the copy of the script in your hand, thumbing the edge of the thin pages as Jordan and Noelle lean in on either side of you to read. Their shoulders draw close, Jordan angling in with casual confidence and Noelle inching forward in tiny movements. It's as if she's afraid of taking up too much space even on the edge of the stage. The classroom noise fades into a distant blur as you focus on the text. PETER Where’s Potpan that he helps not to take away? He shift a trencher? He scrape a trencher? SECOND SERVINGMAN When good manners shall lie all in one or two men’s hands, and they unwashed too, ’tis a foul thing. PETER Away with the joint stools, remove the court cupboard, look to the plate.— Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane, and, as thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.—Anthony and Potpan! THIRD SERVINGMAN Ay, boy, ready. PETER You are looked for and called for, asked for and sought for, in the great chamber. THIRD SERVINGMAN We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys! Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. You read the opening lines out loud, slowly and clearly, stumbling just a little over the rhythm of the old language. The servingmen rush in with complaints about missing helpers, dirty hands, stools that need moving, and platters that need setting. Their words tumble over each other in hurried frustration. When you reach the end of the short exchange, you stop. For a second, the only sound is the distant echo of another group laughing wildly. Noelle blinks, her brows knitting together as she concentrates on the page she's been peering at over your shoulder. @@.noelle;"I... I don't really understand what just happened,"@@ she admits quietly. @@.noelle;"Are they mad at each other? I hope not."@@ Jordan shifts closer so he can see the lines more clearly, one hand braced on the wooden floor behind you for balance. His voice drops into that thoughtful tone he uses when he's serious about something. @@.jordan;"They're not mad, just overwhelmed. They're servants trying to prep the Capulets' house for a huge party. Everything's chaotic right now."@@ @@.player;"So it's like the behind-the-scenes panic before the actual party even happens,"@@ you observe. @@.jordan;"Exactly,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"And the funny part is when Peter says, 'Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane.' That's marzipan. He's telling the others to save, or steal, some snacks for him while they work."@@ Noelle's eyes widen slightly. @@.noelle;"So even while they're stressed, they're still thinking about dessert?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yup,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. @@.jordan;"They're busy, yeah, but they're still human. Still hungry and thinking about what //they// personally get out of the night."@@ He swipes a hand through his hair with a quiet laugh. @@.jordan;"Honestly? That's just like football."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"How so?"@@ Noelle blinks, clearly interested in what that means. Jordan exhales through his nose, gaze drifting off toward the far wall for a moment as if he can already see a field that isn't there. @@.jordan;"On the outside, I look completely locked in. Helmet on, serious face, listening to every single word coach says. Everyone thinks my whole brain is football."@@ @@.jordan;"But the truth is, I'm thinking about two totally different things,"@@ he admits. @@.jordan;"One, is theater. Blocking. Lines. Scenes. Whether I nailed a moment in rehearsal or botched it. I'll be running drills and replaying a monologue in my head while my body moves on its own."@@ Noelle's expression softens, quiet understanding on her face. @@.jordan;"And the other thing is what I'm eating the second practice ends,"@@ Jordan continues, a faint grin forming. You can't help but laugh. @@.player;"So even when you're pretending to be 100% devoted, you're mentally gone?"@@ @@.noelle;"I-I guess so,"@@ Noelle says, giggling. @@.jordan;"It's exactly like these guys,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"They're waving chairs around like their lives depend on it, yeah, but they're also going, 'Don't forget the sweets.'"@@ You tilt the script again so both of them can see the joke in the lines. @@.player;"So these servants are basically stressed and overworked, yet still dreaming about snacks."@@ @@.jordan;"It's painfully realistic,"@@ Jordan says, nodding. @@.jordan;"Goes to show we never really change. Romeo and Juliet was written 400 years ago, yet they're still complaining about other people not doing their work and wanting to eat good food."@@ @@.player;"What's the post-practice dream meal, then?"@@ you ask, curious and amused. @@.jordan;"Clancy's,"@@ he says immediately. @@.jordan;"Greasy perfection."@@ <<if $d18foodcourt is 0>>\ You groan. @@.player;"That's tragic. Pizza Hüt demolishes Clancy's."@@ Jordan scoffs and waves you off. @@.jordan;"No way. Clancy's fries alone beat pizza any day."@@ @@.player;"The Hüt has pepperoni,"@@ you argue. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 1>>\ You groan. @@.player;"That's tragic. Burgur Kween demolishes Clancy's."@@ Jordan scoffs and waves you off. @@.jordan;"No way. Burgur Kween is just a worse Clancy's."@@ @@.player;"The Kween has funny employees,"@@ you argue. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 2>>\ You groan. @@.player;"That's tragic. KFP demolishes Clancy's."@@ Jordan scoffs and waves you off. @@.jordan;"No way. KFP just has chicken that's been under a heating lamp for hours."@@ @@.player;"The General has aura,"@@ you argue. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 3>>\ You groan. @@.player;"That's tragic. Tacko Bong demolishes Clancy's."@@ Jordan scoffs and waves you off. @@.jordan;"No way. Tacko Bong is a food hazard"@@ @@.player;"It is, but it has massive portions,"@@ you argue. <<elseif $d18foodcourt is 4>>\ You groan. @@.player;"That's tragic. Koala Express demolishes Clancy's."@@ Jordan scoffs and waves you off. @@.jordan;"No way. Clancy's fries alone beat Koala any day."@@ @@.player;"Koala has orange chicken,"@@ you argue. @@.player;"And actual vegetables."@@ <</if>>\ @@.jordan;"Clancy's has heart,"@@ Jordan counters. @@.jordan;"And chili cheese fries."@@ Noelle bites her lip, clearly trying not to laugh. When she finally speaks, its soft but earnest. @@.noelle;"I... I think I'd be too nervous to be drifting off during something like football practice."@@ Jordan glances at her. @@.jordan;"Why?"@@ @@.noelle;"I don't know,"@@ Noelle says, shrugging slightly. @@.noelle;"I always feel like I have to stay really focused during class. I'm scared I'll miss something important and get called out. Or that the teacher will think I'm not paying attention."@@ @@.jordan;"That's not a bad habit to have,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Paying attention matters."@@ Noelle nods faintly. @@.noelle;"Th-Thanks."@@ @@.jordan;"Do you ever do that, $name?"@@ Jordan asks. @@.jordan;"Think about something else in class, I mean. Totally zone out."@@ <<button "I don't, I always pay attention" "Day 22 - 19">>\<<set $d22focus to true>>\<<trackChoice "D22_focus" "I don't, I always pay attention" "story">><</button>> <<button "I do, it's hard to keep focused" "Day 22 - 19">>\<<set $d22focus to false>>\<<trackChoice "D22_focus" "I do, it's hard to keep focused" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d22focus is true>>\ <<set $study to Math.clamp($study + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You glance down at the script in your hands, then back up at him. @@.player;"Honestly? Not really."@@ @@.jordan;"Seriously?"@@ Jordan asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"Am I the only one who slacks off?"@@ @@.player;"You could be,"@@ you say with a small shrug. @@.player;"I kind of lock in when I'm in class, even if I don't particularly like the subject. It's like my brain doesn't let me drift very far."@@ @@.noelle;"All the time?"@@ Noelle asks, surprised. @@.player;"Pretty much,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"Sometimes I wish I could space out a little more, actually. Especially when it's on a boring topic. But once the lesson starts, I'm just... there. Listening."@@ Jordan lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh. @@.jordan;"Shit, that's wild. I'll be staring straight at a whiteboard and thinking about literally anything else."@@ @@.player;"I guess my brain treats school like a job,"@@ you say, smiling faintly. @@.player;"If I'm there, I'm working."@@ @@.noelle;"It must be nice to be able to just focus,"@@ Noelle says, studying you. @@.noelle;"I can only do it because I'm scared."@@ @@.player;"It's not always fun,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"But it keeps me out of trouble. Not to mention studying and homework get much easier."@@ Jordan nods slowly, clearly impressed. @@.jordan;"I thought you were just secretly reading ahead."@@ @@.player;"I do that too,"@@ you say. That makes him laugh again, even louder this time. @@.jordan;"Yeah, yeah. Of course you do."@@ Noelle smiles shyly, the tension in her shoulders easing just a bit. @@.noelle;"I wish I had that kind of focus. I'm always worried about messing up, so I overthink everything instead."@@ @@.jordan;"It's human to mess up and make mistakes,"@@ Jordan says, tilting his head toward her. @@.jordan;"Every mistake is an opportunity to grow."@@ She looks down quickly, embarrassed by Jordan's words, but you can tell it lands. <<elseif $d22focus is false>>\ <<set $popularity to Math.clamp($popularity + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Oh, all the time,"@@ you say, letting out a quiet laugh. He raises a brow. @@.jordan;"Yeah?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"Look, I //try// to pay attention, but my brain kind of just... goes. Sometimes I'll start thinking about what I'm doing after school, or some conversation from earlier, or something dumb I saw online. And then suddenly I've missed half of what the teacher said."@@ @@.noelle;"Really?"@@ Noelle asks, looking at you with mild surprise. @@.noelle;"I thought you were always listening."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"I look like I am. Doesn't mean my head's actually there."@@ @@.jordan;"Relatable,"@@ Jordan mutters, smirking. @@.player;"And sometimes, I'll be whispering with whoever's sitting next to me,"@@ you add, lowering your voice a little as instinct kicks in. @@.player;"Just little comments and jokes. Complaints here and there, too. I've had to ask what page we're on far too many times."@@ Noelle's eyes widen slightly. @@.noelle;"Doesn't that get you in trouble?"@@ @@.player;"Sometimes,"@@ you say lightly. @@.player;"But not usually. I think most teachers kind of... tolerate it. As long as I'm not disruptive, of course."@@ Jordan lets out a soft chuckle. @@.jordan;"Honestly? That explains a lot."@@ @@.player;"What's that supposed to mean?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"Well, it means you've always got someone talking to you,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Even when you're not trying to."@@ You think about it for a second, then realize he's right. There's almost always a quiet stream of interaction orbiting you, whether you're at lunch or in class. @@.player;"I guess I just like people,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Or at least being around them."@@ @@.noelle;"That kind of sounds nice,"@@ Noelle says, folding her hands a little tighter as she thinks. @@.noelle;"being able to talk without worrying so much."@@ @@.player;"You already talked more today than you expected,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You'll get there."@@ Her cheeks warm faintly at that, but she doesn't deny it. @@.jordan;"Part of acting is learning how to let your focus drift in useful ways. Not everything is full concentration all the time. Sometimes the little side thoughts enhance a performance."@@ @@.player;"So what you're saying is that my bad habit is actually a skill?"@@ you ask, tilting your head. @@.jordan;"Let's not get carried away."@@ <</if>>\ You lift the script again so both of them can see it clearly. @@.player;"Either way, I think that's what Bennet wants from us. Not just performing, but actually understanding what we're reading."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, of course,"@@ Jordan says, nodding in agreement. @@.jordan;"And Act One, Scene Five is all about setup."@@ Noelle leans in closer to the page, commitment in her eyes despite her lingering nerves. @@.noelle;"So... we should probably keep reading."@@ You take a breath, refocus on the next line, and tilt the script just a little higher between the three of you. It's time to move on together. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 20">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/home-exteriord.png"> <<set $bra to $d18bra>>\ You sling your backpack over your shoulder, grab a water bottle, and head outside. The morning air is cool and clean, the sky pale blue. You don't make it very far before you hear a voice. @@.luke;"You! $name!"@@ You turn just in time to see Luke jogging up the street, his orange hair catching the early light. His messenger bag is so full it looks like it's one pencil case away from bursting open. In one hand, he's clutching a half-eaten granola bar. His grin is wide. @@.luke;"Man, I was late because Bruno stole my shoe,"@@ he says, slightly out of breath but grinning all the same. @@.luke;"He was running around and I had to chase him down."@@ @@.player;"Your dog Bruno?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"Yup!"@@ @@.player;"The one that's barely still alive and sleeps all day?"@@ @@.luke;"Yep!"@@ @@.player;"How the hell did he evade you?"@@ Luke stops and frowns, pondering your question. @@.luke;"I think he saved up all the energy he had for this,"@@ he finally says. @@.luke;"After I got the shoe back, he went to sleep."@@ @@.player;"Just another day in the life of Luke,"@@ you say, chuckling. The two of you start walking to school together. Luke hums some strange song that you can't even recognize. Everything is peaceful until he starts talking again. @@.luke;"So, get this,"@@ he says around a mouthful of granola, @@.luke;"it's Cultural Appreciation Week!"@@ You glance at him, deadpan. @@.player;"Yeah, I saw."@@ @@.luke;"Right? I didn't even know that was a thing. I opened the school app and it was like boom! Culture! Just outta nowhere!"@@ @@.player;"They //have// been doing a lot of events like this lately,"@@ you say, snorting softly. @@.luke;"So anyway, I guess we're supposed to do something about, like, where our families come from,"@@ Luke says, wiping a bit of granola dust from his shirt. @@.luke;"You know, hermitage and all that. I think I'm Irish."@@ @@.player;"Pretty sure?"@@ you ask, eyeing his ginger hair and freckles. @@.luke;"Yeah. My dad said his dad's dad came from Ireland. Or maybe Boston. It's one of those, for sure."@@ You stop and look at him. @@.player;"Boston isn't a country, Luke."@@ He pauses, thinking that over. @@.luke;"Right. Yeah, I knew that. But like, it's Irish-adjacent, right?"@@ @@.player;"That's not how it works,"@@ you say, laughing. He scratches his cheek, squinting like he's genuinely trying to piece together his lineage. @@.luke;"Okay, but my last name is O'Malley. It has the O' in it. That's gotta count for something."@@ @@.player;"True,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"You do look like you spawned directly from a potato field."@@ @@.luke;"Oh yeah, that's actually why my family moved here,"@@ Luke says with total confidence. @@.player;"What?"@@ He nods. He's finished his granola bar, and is now chewing on the wrapper. @@.luke;"Yeah, the whole potato thing. You know, that... potato problem. The extinction or whatever."@@ @@.player;"You mean the Great Potato Famine?"@@ you ask, trying to tell if he's serious. @@.luke;"Yeah, that!"@@ he exclaims, snapping his fingers. @@.luke;"See, I knew it had a name. My grandma told me once that our family came to America because they ran out of potatoes. Tragic stuff."@@ You snort. @@.player;"They didn't run out of potatoes, Luke. It was a famine. People starved."@@ He frowns, thinking that over. @@.luke;"Wait, so like... all of Ireland just ran out of potatoes at once? How does that even happen? Did someone eat them all?"@@ @@.player;"No, Luke, it was a disease that wiped out the crops."@@ @@.luke;"A disease?"@@ he asks, unconvinced. @@.luke;"Like, potato corona?"@@ @@.player;"Something like that."@@ Luke nods sagely, as though this new knowledge has enlightened him. @@.luke;"Man. That's rough. Guess I really do come from tough stock, huh? My ancestors survived potato extinction."@@ @@.player;"That is ''not'' what it's called,"@@ you say, rubbing your temples. @@.luke;"Still, kind of metal,"@@ he says, pleased with this version of history. @@.luke;"I should make that my hermitage presentation. The O'Malleys: Surviving Potato Apocalypse."@@ You're still chuckling when you both turn the corner and the school comes into view. The front courtyard is filled with folding tables stacked in uneven piles, strings of colored flags, and cardboard boxes labeled "CULTURAL WEEK MATERIALS" sitting under a tent. Someone from the student council is wrestling with a banner that keeps slipping, and a couple of PTA volunteers are arguing over where to set up the food stalls. Luke immediately perks up. His eyes scan the area like a bloodhound catching a scent. @@.luke;"Okay, so they're totally gonna have food later, right? Like, that's the point of this whole thing."@@ @@.player;"Looks like it,"@@ you observe, glancing around. @@.player;"Right now, though, it's just chaos and duct tape."@@ @@.luke;"Man, I love chaos and duct tape,"@@ Luke says with absolute sincerity. @@.luke;"I want to try empanadas from Chile. Or mini pancakes from Dutch people."@@ @@.player;"You suddenly know countries when it comes to their cuisines?"@@ you ask, raising your eyebrow. @@.luke;"Of course I do,"@@ Luke says, looking offended. @@.luke;"I take food very seriously. This is what Cultural Appreciation Week should really be about. Uniting the world through carbs!"@@ @@.player;"You just want to eat your way around the world, don't you?"@@ @@.luke;"Exactly,"@@ he says, grinning. @@.luke;"Think about it! Italian pasta, Japanese ramen, Indian curry, Mexican tacos. Man, that's like the United Nations of Happiness."@@ @@.player;"Pretty sure that's not what the week's for."@@ @@.luke;"Then they're doing it wrong,"@@ Luke declares. @@.luke;"You know what would solve world peace? A buffet. Every country shows up with their best dish."@@ @@.player;"I... don't even know what to say to that,"@@ you say, shaking your head. <<button "That's enough of Luke" "Day 22 - 3">><</button>>

You slide your finger down the page and begin reading the next stretch of lines under your breath, pausing every few sentences so Jordan and Noelle can follow along as they lean in close to see over your shoulders. Capulet bursts onto the scene with loud welcomes and teasing remarks, inviting everyone to dance, joking about foot problems, calling for musicians, and more. CAPULET Welcome, gentlemen. Ladies that have their toes Unplagued with corns will walk a bout with you.— Ah, my mistresses, which of you all Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty, She, I’ll swear, hath corns. Am I come near you now?— Welcome, gentlemen. I have seen the day That I have worn a visor and could tell A whispering tale in a fair lady’s ear, Such as would please. ’Tis gone, ’tis gone, ’tis gone. You are welcome, gentlemen.—Come, musicians, play. A hall, a hall, give room!—And foot it, girls.— More light, you knaves, and turn the tables up, And quench the fire; the room is grown too hot.— Ah, sirrah, this unlooked-for sport comes well.— Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet, For you and I are past our dancing days. How long is ’t now since last yourself and I Were in a mask? CAPULET’S COUSIN By ’r Lady, thirty years. CAPULET What, man, ’tis not so much, ’tis not so much. ’Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, Come Pentecost as quickly as it will, Some five and twenty years, and then we masked. CAPULET’S COUSIN ’Tis more, ’tis more. His son is elder, sir. His son is thirty. CAPULET Will you tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago. When you reach the end of the exchange between Capulet and his cousin, you stop. Noelle's eyes linger on the page longer than yours do. Her brows knit together slightly, confusing clouding her expression. She doesn't say anything, though. Instead she presses her lips together and nods faintly, pretending she understood. Jordan notices immediately. @@.jordan;"You okay?"@@ he asks, glancing at her, then back at the script. @@.jordan;"That part //is// a lot."@@ Noelle startles a little at being addressed so directly. @@.noelle;"Oh-I-I think so."@@ Then her voice dips quieter. @@.noelle;"I just... wasn't sure what he meant about the years."@@ Jordan shifts closer so he can point at a line with his finger. @@.jordan;"So basically, Capulet's welcoming everyone to the party in this big, loud, joking way. He's the host, after all. He's in control of the room. But then the conversation turns a little more personal when he starts talking to his cousin."@@ @@.player;"He's reminiscing, right?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"He starts talking about when he used to wear masks himself and flirt at dances. He's nostalgic for his youth. But, he thinks the last time he went to a masquerade was only 25 years ago. But his cousin corrects him and says it's been 30 years since Luciento's wedding since his son's thirty now. Capulet is shocked, since he could swear Luciento's son was a minor only two years ago."@@ @@.player;"So it's not just party chatter,"@@ you say, looking down at the words again with new understanding. @@.player;"It's him realizing, even without meaning to, that he's old now."@@ Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"Exactly. He's still loud and in charge and joking around, sure, but underneath that, he's realizing that those days are long gone. He doesn't dance and flirt anymore. He just hosts."@@ Noelle folds her hands together. @@.noelle;"That's kind of... sad."@@ @@.jordan;"It is,"@@ Jordan says quietly. @@.jordan;"But also human."@@ For a moment, none of you speak. The noise of the classroom drifts up to the stage again. Someone in another group curses out Shakespeare, someone else laughs too hard at a bad joke. But up here, the three of you feel removed from it all, suspended in this little pocket. @@.jordan;"It's funny, really,"@@ Jordan says, breaking the silence first. @@.jordan;"Just how much people change without realizing it."@@ Noelle nods. @@.noelle;"Sometimes I feel like the past was... easier."@@ She hesitates before adding. @@.noelle;"When I was younger, I didn't worry so much about how I looked or what people thought. I just did things and had fun."@@ Her voice is soft and fragile, like she's afraid to admit that out loud. @@.jordan;"You miss that?"@@ Jordan asks. @@.noelle;"Yeah. I think I do. I miss when everything felt smaller and simpler."@@ Jordan leans back on his hands, eyes drifting toward the dim lights above the stage. @@.jordan;"I don't think I miss the past that much,"@@ he says after a moment. @@.jordan;"I think I'm more focused on what's to come."@@ @@.player;"The future?"@@ you ask. He nods. @@.jordan;"Yeah. I'm tired of living in what people already decided for me. I don't want to look back and realize I stayed stuck because it was familiar. Even if the future's scary, I'd rather move toward something than keep replaying something that I can't accept is already over."@@ @@.noelle;"That sounds... brave,"@@ Noelle says. Jordan lets out a faint huff of a laugh. @@.jordan;"Depends on who you ask. Some people say I'm reckless."@@ You shift slightly, the script warm in your hands. The conversation feels heavier now, personal meaning sneaking into the conversation in a way you didn't expect when you first started reading about old men arguing about dates. Jordan turns his head toward you. Noelle does too, her anxious gaze following his. @@.jordan;"What about you?"@@ Jordan asks. @@.jordan;"Are you more the type who looks forward to what's next or the type who gets nostalgic about what's already gone?"@@ <<button "I look forward to what's next" "Day 22 - 21">>\<<set $d22nostalgic to false>>\<<trackChoice "D22_nostalgic" "I look forward to what's next" "story">><</button>> <<button "I get nostalgic about what's already gone" "Day 22 - 21">>\<<set $d22nostalgic to true>>\<<trackChoice "D22_nostalgic" "I get nostalgic about what's already gone" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d22nostalgic is true>>\ You're quiet for a moment after Jordan's question, the script resting lightly in your hands. The stage lights hum overhead. @@.player;"I think..."@@ you begin slowly, then stop. @@.player;"I think I'm more nostalgic about what's already gone."@@ Jordan turns toward you fully now. Noelle's eyes lift to your face, anxious. @@.player;"When I was younger, everything felt simpler,"@@ you continue, voice quieter than usual. @@.player;"Not perfect, by any means, but simple. I didn't think so much. I didn't worry about how every little choice would affect something later. I just did things."@@ You shift your grip on the script. @@.player;"Now it feels like every day is full of decisions I don't feel ready to make. About school, about friendships, about who I'm supposed to be. Sometimes, it's like everything is layered on top of everything else, and I can't tell what actually matters and what doesn't."@@ Noelle exhales shakily, her shoulders dropping as if she's been holding her breath this whole time. @@.noelle;"I feel like that too,"@@ she says softly. @@.noelle;"Exactly like that, actually. Everyone talks about the future like it's supposed to be exciting. But sometimes it just feels so big when I feel so small."@@ You glance at her, surprised and comforted all at once. @@.player;"Yeah, you get it."@@ @@.noelle;"I'm kind of glad you said it out loud,"@@ she says, her lips trembling into a small smile. @@.noelle;"I thought I was the only one who felt that way."@@ You shake your head gently. @@.player;"You're definitely not."@@ When Jordan finally speaks, it's clear that there's a gap between your perspective and his. @@.jordan;"I get missing when things were easier,"@@ he says slowly. @@.jordan;"I really do. Being a kid, not worrying about the big stuff, all that. But I don't think I ever felt like the past was... right for me. Even when it was simpler, it still didn't feel like it fit."@@ You meet his eyes. He isn't being dismissive, he's just genuinely different. @@.jordan;"For me, at least, simplicity doesn't feel comforting,"@@ Jordan continues. @@.jordan;"It feels like being stuck in a place that wasn't asking anything of me yet. I don't want to go back there. Even when the future's terrifying, at least it's mine."@@ @@.noelle;"I think... I still do want a future someday,"@@ Noelle admits. @@.noelle;"I just want it to come slowly."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Same."@@ @@.jordan;"That I can respect,"@@ Jordan says, smiling faintly. The three of you sit there in reflective silence for a few seconds. Three different people and three different relationships with time, all intersecting here on a dusty school stage. <<elseif $d22nostalgic is false>>\ You let the question settle in your chest for a long moment before answering. @@.player;"I think I look forward to what's next,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"I'm eighteen and high school is almost over. For the first time, it really feels like part of my life is ending. So far, everything's been planned out for us. I've been in this same old town for my whole life. But now, in only a few months, that structure is going to... disappear."@@ You swallow softly before continuing. @@.player;"And instead of that scaring me, it kind of makes me feel alive. Like the whole world is sitting out there, waiting. I don't even know what direction I'll go yet, I haven't figured it out, but I want to see it. I want to meet the version of me that exists outside of this place. The past matters, of course, but it already happened. I want to move forward."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says, exhaling slowly in quiet agreement. @@.jordan;"That's exactly it, actually. We're all seniors. People talk about these years like they're supposed to be the prime of our lives. Like this is the part we're going to miss forever."@@ He shakes his head faintly. @@.jordan;"But I don't //want// high school to be the best I ever get. I don't want to look back one day and think, 'That was it.'"@@ He looks toward the edge of the stage. @@.jordan;"I want the real stuff to be ahead of me. The things I choose. The things I build myself."@@ Noelle listens to both of you in silence. Her brows are drawn together in thought, and you can almost see the gears turning in her head as your words sink in. @@.noelle;"I don't think I feel the same way,"@@ she says softly after a moment. @@.noelle;"At least... not yet."@@ Jordan turns toward her, careful not to interrupt. @@.noelle;"I think I still miss the past,"@@ she admits. @@.noelle;"When I was younger, I didn't think so much. I didn't worry all the time about whether I was doing things wrong or being awkward or saying the wrong thing. I just did things. The future feels really big to me. Too big sometimes."@@ You nod gently. @@.player;"That makes sense."@@ @@.noelle;"But,"@@ she adds, hesitating, @@.noelle;"when you talk about the future like that... it makes me think. Maybe it doesn't have to just be scary. Maybe it can be... open. I don't think I'm ready to stop missing the past, but I can see what you mean about not wanting to live there forever."@@ @@.jordan;"You don't have to sprint into the future,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Just face it."@@ Noelle lets out a careful breath, as if that idea alone takes effort. @@.noelle;"Facing it sounds hard. But... I think I want to try."@@ You smile warmly at that. The three of you sit there in reflective silence for a few seconds. Three different people and three different relationships with time, all intersecting here on a dusty school stage. <</if>>\ Finally, Jordan breaks the moment first, glancing back at the script with a chuckle. @@.jordan;"If we keep talking like this, Bennet's going to accuse us of summoning Shakespeare's ghost with how much we're analyzing this."@@ @@.player;"Hey, since we already started, we might as well commit,"@@ you say, smiling faintly. Noelle gives a small, shy laugh of her own. @@.jordan;"We've got to get to the next section before the bell rings, though,"@@ Jordan says, nodding to the open pages in your hand. Noelle straightens, resolve flickering beneath her nerves. @@.noelle;"Y-yeah. Let's keep going."@@ You lift the script again, the pages whispering as you turn them. It's time to move forward. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 22">><</button>>

You lower your voice and begin reading the next passage aloud, the words rolling slowly off your tongue as Jordan and Noelle lean in to follow along. Romeo spots Juliet from across the room. He doesn't know her name or her story, and yet every line he speaks is full of love. He talks about light, jewels, snow, and beauty. By the time you reach the last line, your throat feels strangely tight. ROMEO What lady’s that which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight? SERVINGMAN I know not, sir. ROMEO O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night As a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear— Beauty too rich for use, for Earth too dear. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows As yonder lady o’er her fellows shows. The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand And, touching hers, make blessèd my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight, For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night. Noelle speaks up first. @@.noelle;"Wow..."@@ she breathes, eyes still fixed on the page. @@.noelle;"He's... he's really in love already."@@ You glance at her. There's something soft and wonderstruck in her expression. It's like she's seeing something delicate blooming for the first time and isn't quite sure how to touch it without breaking it. @@.jordan;"He doesn't even //know// her,"@@ Jordan says flatly. Noelle startles a little at the bluntness. @@.noelle;"B-but he saw her. And he felt something right away. That's... kind of the point, isn't it?"@@ Jordan lets out a quiet scoff, leaning back on his hands again. @@.jordan;"That's not love, Noelle. That's a dramatic teenager seeing a pretty face and losing his damn mind."@@ You can't help it, you laugh quietly. @@.player;"Aren't you a dramatic teenager?"@@ <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ Jordan shoots you an unimpressed look. @@.jordan;"First of all, rude. Second of all, I'm a self-aware dramatic teenager. Big difference."@@ <<else>>\ Jordan shoots you an unimpressed look. <</if>>\ Noelle hides a tiny smile behind her fingers. Jordan gestures loosely toward the script with one hand. @@.jordan;"Look at the language. Torches burning bright, jewels in ears, and snowy doves. He's not in love because that's not what love //is//. It's just lust with a poetry filter."@@ @@.noelle;"But he says his heart never loved before this,"@@ Noelle says softly. @@.noelle;"What if that's true?"@@ @@.jordan;"People say dramatic stuff all the time when their hormones are going crazy,"@@ Jordan replies. @@.jordan;"Doesn't make it love."@@ You glance between them, watching the debate unfold. Jordan sits forward again, more serious now. @@.jordan;"To me, at least, real love is when two people actually know each other. When they've seen the ugly parts. When they've watched each other fail. And yet, despite all that, they still choose each other. It's when your strengths and flaws actually fit together."@@ @@.noelle;"So... like being a team,"@@ Noelle says, listening intently. @@.jordan;"That's how I see a relationship,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Not being overwhelmed by a stranger across a room."@@ You tilt your head. @@.player;"So you don't believe in love at first sight at all?"@@ He hesitates before answering. @@.jordan;"I mean, I believe in //attraction// at first sight. But you can't call it love until you've built it. That's what I think."@@ @@.noelle;"I'm... not sure about that,"@@ Noelle says quietly. @@.jordan;"Not sure how?"@@ Jordan asks. She fidgets with the edge of her notebook. @@.noelle;"I think what you're saying makes sense. But... the idea that someone could see you a-and just feel something special right away is really romantic."@@ Her voice drops to become even shyer. @@.noelle;"Like maybe for once, you wouldn't have to explain yourself first. Or prove anything. They'd just see you for you."@@ The words hang in the air for a while, fragile but honest. Jordan exhales slowly. He taps a finger against his knee and takes some time before speaking up again. Maybe to make sure he doesn't hurt Noelle's feelings. @@.jordan;"I get why the //idea// is appealing,"@@ he admits. @@.jordan;"I just don't trust things that only exist for a moment. I trust the consistent stuff that sticks around after the excitement fades."@@ @@.noelle;"Maybe they're both parts of it,"@@ Noelle offers weakly. @@.noelle;"The first feeling and then the work after."@@ Jordan doesn't object to that. <<button "I don't believe in love at first sight" "Day 22 - 23">>\<<set $d22loveatsight to false>>\<<trackChoice "D22_loveatsight" "I don't believe in love at first sight" "story">><</button>> <<button "Love at first sight is the most romantic thing there is" "Day 22 - 23">>\<<set $d22loveatsight to true>>\<<trackChoice "D22_loveatsight" "Love at first sight is the most romantic thing there is" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d22loveatsight is true>>\ You don't even have to think about it for very long, to be honest. The answer feels like it's been sitting in your chest the entire time, just waiting for you. @@.player;"I think love at first sight is the most romantic thing there is,"@@ you say softly. Jordan lifts a brow. Noelle's eyes widen immediately. You glance back down at the script for a second, then up again, gathering your thoughts. @@.player;"Like, just the idea that out of everyone in a room, out of all the noise and chaos and people, there's one person who instantly stands out to you. And you don't fully know why yet, you just do."@@ @@.player;"I like the thought that sometimes your heart recognizes something before your brain catches up,"@@ you say, smiling sheepishly. @@.player;"Like it just knows."@@ Noelle lets out a tiny breath she's been holding in. @@.noelle;"$name, that's... really beautiful."@@ Meanwhile, Jordan is not as enthused. @@.jordan;"Hmm,"@@ he hums under his breath. You glance at him. @@.player;"That's all I get?"@@ @@.jordan;"That's all you get,"@@ he says, not unkindly. His expression is thoughtful, and you can tell he's not convinced. @@.jordan;"I'm not going to argue you out of your fairy tale."@@ @@.player;"Hey, it's not a fairy tale,"@@ you counter. He shrugs. @@.jordan;"Sounds like one."@@ Noelle suddenly straightens, her nerves momentarily overridden by excitement. @@.noelle;"I think it's really romantic too,"@@ she blurts out. @@.noelle;"Like, ''really'' romantic. The idea that someone could look at you and just... feel it. That you wouldn't have to be brave first or perfect first or anything first. They would just... see you and choose you right away."@@ <<else>>\ You hesitate just a second before answering, the question bouncing around your head. Then you shake your head slowly. @@.player;"I don't think I believe in love at first sight."@@ Jordan's mouth curves into the faintest, approving smirk while Noelle's eyes flicker with surprise. @@.player;"I mean... attraction, sure,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Being interested in someone right away and thinking they're beautiful makes sense to me. But calling it //love// after one look feels... unrealistic to me. Even kind of naive, I guess."@@ @@.jordan;"Finally, someone sane,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. You exhale softly before continuing. @@.player;"Love feels like something that takes time. Like you actually have to learn who someone is. How they react when they're stressed. What they're like when they're tired or mad or hurt. You can't see any of that across a crowded room."@@ @@.noelle;"So you think Romeo's just... fooling himself?"@@ Noelle asks. @@.player;"I think he's in love with the idea of her,"@@ you say. @@.player;"With what he imagines she is. Not who she actually is."@@ Jordan nods almost immediately. @@.jordan;"He's just projecting."@@ There's silence for a while before Noelle's face lights up. @@.noelle;"But love at first sight is really romantic, though,"@@ she starts, eyes suddenly bright. @@.noelle;"Like, like seeing someone and feeling your whole world tilt just a little. Like something changes forever in that one second. You wouldn't have to be brave first or perfect first or anything first. They would just... see you and choose you right away."@@ <</if>>\ Her words start tumbling faster as she goes, volume creeping up without her noticing. @@.noelle;"I kind of want that. Not just for Romeo and Juliet, but, like... for real life. It sounds so magical when you think about it. Like something out of a book or a movie or—"@@ She realizes she's rambling and her face flushes bright pink instantly. @@.noelle;"S-sorry. I talk too much when I get excited."@@ @@.player;"It's alright,"@@ you say. Jordan's mouth twitches a little in what might be the beginning of a smile. @@.jordan;"You're allowed to like romantic nonsense."@@ @@.noelle;"It's not nonsense!"@@ Noelle protests weakly, though the embarrassment is clearly getting to her now. You can't help but laugh. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 24">><</button>>

You skim through the next stretch together rather than reading every line out loud. The energy of the scene shifts immediately. Romeo's part was full of wonder and poetry, while this part crackles with tension and anger. TYBALT This, by his voice, should be a Montague.— Fetch me my rapier, boy. What, dares the slave Come hither covered with an antic face To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honor of my kin, To strike him dead I hold it not a sin. CAPULET Why, how now, kinsman? Wherefore storm you so? TYBALT Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, A villain that is hither come in spite To scorn at our solemnity this night. CAPULET Young Romeo is it? TYBALT ’Tis he, that villain Romeo. CAPULET Content thee, gentle coz. Let him alone. He bears him like a portly gentleman, And, to say truth, Verona brags of him To be a virtuous and well-governed youth. I would not for the wealth of all this town Here in my house do him disparagement. Therefore be patient. Take no note of him. It is my will, the which if thou respect, Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. TYBALT It fits when such a villain is a guest. I’ll not endure him. CAPULET He shall be endured. What, goodman boy? I say he shall. Go to. Am I the master here or you? Go to. You’ll not endure him! God shall mend my soul, You’ll make a mutiny among my guests, You will set cock-a-hoop, you’ll be the man! TYBALT Why, uncle, ’tis a shame. CAPULET Go to, go to. You are a saucy boy. Is ’t so indeed? This trick may chance to scathe you. I know what. You must contrary me. Marry, ’tis time— Well said, my hearts.—You are a princox, go. Be quiet, or—More light, more light!—for shame, I’ll make you quiet.—What, cheerly, my hearts! TYBALT Patience perforce with willful choler meeting Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall, Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt’rest gall. As you lower the script slightly, Jordan gives a short summary. @@.jordan;"Okay, so, Tybalt clocks Romeo as a Montague and goes feral."@@ Noelle nods, eyes wide. @@.noelle;"Tybalt wants to stab Romeo right away."@@ @@.jordan;"Yup,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Literally asks for his rapier so he can kill the guy on the spot. It's crazy."@@ You glance back at the page. @@.player;"But Capulet shuts him down."@@ @@.jordan;"Capulet shuts him down hard, yeah,"@@ Jordan repeats. @@.jordan;"Not gently in the slightest. Tybalt's all ready to uphold family honor and shit, and Capulet's like, 'Not in my house, not at my party, not today.' He basically pulls rank."@@ Noelle reads a line silently, then murmurs, @@.noelle;"He even compliments Romeo by saying the whole city thinks he's well-behaved."@@ @@.player;"Which probably makes Tybalt even angrier,"@@ you say. Jordan lets out an amused breath. @@.jordan;"Yeah. Tybalt's whole thing is heat and pride. Capulet's the authority and reputation. It's a power struggle disguised as family drama."@@ @@.noelle;"And Tybalt can't really //do// anything about it,"@@ Noelle adds. @@.noelle;"He has to force himself to be patient."@@ @@.player;"Oh, and he hates every second of it,"@@ you say. Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"He does, but he doesn't forget. The last line is basically him promising that he'll get his way in the future."@@ You all sit with that for a second before Jordan snorts under his breath. @@.jordan;"Honestly, this reads exactly like when parents pull the 'not now' card in front of guests."@@ You look at him. @@.player;"Oh my God, it really does."@@ @@.noelle;"Like... when they scold you quietly so no one else sees?"@@ Noelle asks, tilting her head. @@.jordan;"Or worse,"@@ Jordan says, grinning now, @@.jordan;"when they smile in public and go, 'We'll talk about this later.'"@@ @@.player;"That is the scariest sentence in the English language,"@@ you state, groaning. Noelle lets out a tiny laugh. @@.noelle;"My mom does that all the time. She'll be super calm in front of people and then as soon as we're alone she'll go, 'What were you thinking?'"@@ Jordan points at her. @@.jordan;"That's exactly what Capulet is doing. He's basically telling Tybalt to not embarrass him in front of the guests."@@ @@.player;"He even asks if Tybalt is the master here or if he is. That's straight-up parent energy."@@ Jordan leans back on his hands, amused. @@.jordan;"I wouldn't know, 'cause my dad doesn't even bother asking. He just gives me The Look."@@ @@.player;"The Look?"@@ @@.jordan;"The Look,"@@ Jordan repeats solemnly. @@.jordan;"When he glares at me, that's how I know I'm on thin ice."@@ Noelle stifles another laugh. @@.noelle;"My dad just sighs really deeply. It's like I've personally aged him ten years."@@ @@.player;"My mom does the disappointed eyebrow raise,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"No words at all. Only judgment."@@ @@.jordan;"That's brutal,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. @@.player;"And afterwards, she'll suddenly remember like five more chores I apparently forgot,"@@ you add. @@.noelle;"That's the real punishment,"@@ Noelle says softly. @@.jordan;"So, Tybalt is basically a kid who wants to fight at Thanksgiving and Capulet is the parent telling him he absolutely can't,"@@ Jordan points out. You gesture at the page. @@.player;"And Tybalt says he'll behave, sure, but that he'll remember it forever."@@ Noelle smiles a little wider now. It's clear that her nerves have eased as the tension of the scene has been related to something familiar. @@.noelle;"It's kind of funny how even this super dramatic feud still feels like... normal family drama."@@ @@.jordan;"It's the same emotions, just with swords,"@@ Jordan says. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say with a small exhale. @@.player;"The next part is where Romeo and Juliet kiss. Is everyone ready?"@@ <<button "Nobody's ready" "Day 22 - 25">><</button>>

You turn the page, just to see how much is left, when the tone of the text shifts so suddenly it almost gives you whiplash. Romeo and Juliet go back and forth. The lines are shorter, the language is mirrored, and it's intimate in a way the earlier chaos wasn't. You stop reading. Jordan leans in closer, curiosity pulling him forward. His eyes skim the page once, then again. @@.jordan;"Oh yeah, it's this."@@ Noelle leans in too, reads, then immediately jerks back like she's touched a hot stove. @@.noelle;"Oh, wow,"@@ she says, in a very different tone. You clear your throat. @@.player;"So... yeah. This is that part."@@ Noelle's face goes bright red in an instant. It's not a gentle blush at all, as even her ears are red. She presses both hands to her cheeks, eyes wide with horror. @@.noelle;"Nope! No. Absolutely not."@@ Jordan glances between the two of you, then back at the script. @@.jordan;"Shakespeare really wasted zero time, huh?"@@ @@.noelle;"They-They're //flirting//,"@@ Noelle says weakly. @@.player;"They are,"@@ you repeat. @@.player;"Hard."@@ @@.jordan;"They're also being super poetic,"@@ Jordan says. Noelle makes a small distressed noise and curls in on herself a little. @@.noelle;"They're talking about hands and lips and saints. Why are they doing this in front of everyone?"@@ @@.jordan;"Technically, they're doing it at a party,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"We're the ones sitting on a stage reading it."@@ @@.noelle;"That's not any better!"@@ You try not to laugh, you really do, but it slips out anyway. @@.player;"You alright, Noelle?"@@ @@.noelle;"No,"@@ she says immediately. @@.noelle;"I am not okay. I can't read this. I physically cannot."@@ @@.jordan;"Heads up, they kiss twice,"@@ Jordan spoils. Noelle lets out a strangled sound and covers her face completely. @@.noelle;"Why would you say that?"@@ @@.jordan;"Transparency,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"But we have to talk about how we're going to read this. Logistically, I mean."@@ Noelle shakes her head immediately. @@.noelle;"We're not //going// to read it."@@ @@.player;"We have to,"@@ you say. @@.player;"At least enough to understand what's happening."@@ @@.noelle;"We can summarize,"@@ she insists, voice thin. @@.noelle;"We already know what happens. He flirts. She flirts. They fall in love. Then there's tragedy."@@ Jordan snorts. @@.jordan;"That's the entire play."@@ There's a long, awkward pause where all three of you stare at the script like it might offer a solution on its own. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ Jordan says, breaking the silence. @@.jordan;"Hear me out."@@ @@.noelle;"I don't like that sentence,"@@ Noelle says, dread in her voice. @@.jordan;"It would actually be useful if we did a quick read-through,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"There's no need to stand or make eye contact. Just someone reading Romeo's lines and someone reading Juliet's lines. So we can hear how it flows."@@ Noelle's eyes widen. @@.noelle;"You want us to perform it?"@@ @@.jordan;"Read it,"@@ he corrects calmly. @@.jordan;"There's a huge difference."@@ @@.noelle;"There is no difference,"@@ she says weakly. Jordan gestures at the page. @@.jordan;"But Noelle, this scene is all about rhythm. They mirror each other and finish each other's thoughts. You kind of lose that if you just paraphrase. It's meant to be read by two people."@@ @@.noelle;"I can't,"@@ Noelle squeaks, looking like she might genuinely bolt off the stage. @@.noelle;"I really can't, sorry. I know it's important but I'll actually combust."@@ @@.player;"Hey, it's okay,"@@ you say, reassuring her. @@.jordan;"Yeah, no pressure,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"I'll be Romeo."@@ Noelle hides behind her hands, making an embarrassed sound. @@.jordan;"I already read dramatic nonsense out loud for fun,"@@ Jordan states, shrugging. @@.jordan;"This is just some extra practice."@@ @@.player;"You're very chill about this,"@@ you point out. @@.jordan;"Man, it's theater,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"I'd be doomed if I got embarrassed by fictional flirting."@@ Noelle peeks at him, incredulous. @@.noelle;"How are you not embarrassed?"@@ @@.jordan;"Practice,"@@ he says lightly. @@.noelle;"I can't be Juliet,"@@ Noelle says, groaning and dropping her forehead into her hands. @@.noelle;"I can't even look at Juliet's lines right now."@@ Jordan's gaze shifts to you. @@.player;"Wait,"@@ you say, blinking. @@.player;"What?"@@ Noelle lifts her head just enough to look at you, eyes wide and pleading. @@.noelle;"You don't have to,"@@ she says quickly. @@.noelle;"We could just read it like a textbook or something. One person reads everything. No voices and no back and forth."@@ @@.jordan;"That's an option,"@@ Jordan says, tilting his head. You look down at the script again, your heart giving an uncertain thump. <<button "I'll read Juliet" "Day 22 - 26">>\<<set $d22readjuliet to true>>\<<trackChoice "D22_readjuliet" "I'll read Juliet" "story">><</button>> <<button "Let's just do it without roles" "Day 22 - 26">>\<<set $d22readjuliet to false>>\<<trackChoice "D22_readjuliet" "Let's just do it without roles" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d22readjuliet is true>>\ <<set $tdelivery to Math.clamp($tdelivery + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $jordanRomance > 19>>\ You take a breath and lift the script a little higher between the three of you. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We can just read it. Jordan will do Romeo, and I guess I'll do Juliet."@@ Noelle's reaction is immediate. @@.noelle;"Y-You're actually doing it?"@@ @@.player;"It's just reading,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"Plus it'll help us understand the scene better."@@ Jordan nods, clearly happy with the decision. @@.jordan;"It's good practice, especially if I want a good role."@@ Noelle groans and hides her face behind her hands. @@.noelle;"I'm not looking until the scene's over."@@ Jordan shifts closer so he can see the page clearly, sitting up straight in focus. He takes a quick glance at you and smiles before looking back at the script and concentrating. @@.jordan;"Alright,"@@ he says calmly. @@.jordan;"Whenever you're ready."@@ You glance down at the lines. Your name, JULIET, stares back at you from the page. It feels strange seeing it there, stranger knowing you're about to act it. Jordan goes first. @@.jordan;"If I profane with my unworthiest hand,"@@ he reads, voice measured and controlled, @@.jordan;"this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."@@ Noelle lets out a tiny, muffled sound somewhere between a squeak and a whimper. You keep your eyes on the page and force yourself to continue. @@.player;"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,"@@ you read carefully, @@.player;"which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss."@@ Jordan's gaze flicks up from the script to your face yet again. He probably thinks he's being subtle, he looks at you for only a second, but you can notice that he's looking at you differently now. Not as your friend or as your scene partner, but as someone trying very hard to stay in character while feeling something else entirely. @@.jordan;"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"@@ he continues. @@.player;"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."@@ @@.jordan;"O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do,"@@ Jordan reads. @@.jordan;"They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."@@ Your heart gives a small jump. Noelle peeks through her fingers, eyes wide, clearly torn between fascination and secondhand embarrassment. You swallow and force yourself to read your next line. @@.player;"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake."@@ Jordan pauses intentionally before continuing. @@.jordan;"Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take."@@ You stop there, exactly where the script says //He kisses her//. You could lean in, just slightly, to acknowledge the moment and romantic tension. Or you could skip over it to keep it safe. Move on before your heart does something stupid. It's up to you. <<else>>\ You take a breath and lift the script a little higher between the three of you. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We can just read it. Jordan will do Romeo, and I guess I'll do Juliet."@@ Noelle's reaction is immediate. @@.noelle;"Y-You're actually doing it?"@@ @@.player;"It's just reading,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"No acting or touching or anything."@@ Jordan nods, clearly happy with the decision. @@.jordan;"It's super straightforward, not to mention purely academic."@@ Noelle groans and hides her face behind her hands. @@.noelle;"I'm not looking until the scene's over."@@ Jordan shifts closer so he can see the page clearly, sitting up straight in focus. The smile on his face has disappeared. There's only concentration now. He's working. @@.jordan;"Alright,"@@ he says calmly. @@.jordan;"Whenever you're ready."@@ You glance down at the lines. Your name, JULIET, stares back at you from the page. It feels strange seeing it there, stranger knowing you're about to act it. Jordan goes first. @@.jordan;"If I profane with my unworthiest hand,"@@ he reads, voice measured and controlled, @@.jordan;"this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."@@ Noelle lets out a tiny, muffled sound somewhere between a squeak and a whimper. You keep your eyes on the page and force yourself to continue. @@.player;"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,"@@ you read carefully, @@.player;"which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss."@@ You're aware of Jordan's presence beside you. He's leaning in just enough to follow along, but he doesn't look at you. His focus stays on the words. @@.jordan;"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"@@ he continues. @@.player;"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."@@ @@.jordan;"O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do,"@@ Jordan reads smoothly. @@.jordan;"They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."@@ Noelle peeks through her fingers, eyes wide, clearly torn between fascination and secondhand embarrassment. You swallow and read your next line. @@.player;"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake."@@ Jordan pauses intentionally before continuing. @@.jordan;"Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take."@@ You stop there, exactly where the script says //He kisses her//. <</if>>\ <<button "Lean in and look at Jordan's gaze" "Day 22 - 27">>\<<set $d22julietlean to true>>\<<trackChoice "D22_julietlean" "Lean in and look at Jordan's gaze" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Skip over the kiss" "Day 22 - 27">>\<<set $d22julietlean to false>>\<<trackChoice "D22_julietlean" "Skip over the kiss" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ You glance between Jordan and Noelle, the script in your hands. The weight of their attention settles uncomfortably on your shoulders. @@.player;"I think,"@@ you say carefully, @@.player;"we should probably just read it normally."@@ Noelle exhales so hard it's almost audible relief. Her shoulders drop immediately. @@.noelle;"Thank you,"@@ she says, a little breathless. @@.noelle;"Thank you so much."@@ Jordan's expression flickers with disappointment for just a second before it fades. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says, nodding. @@.jordan;"That's fair."@@ He doesn't argue or anything, instead adjusting his position so he can see the page more clearly. @@.jordan;"Let's go for some normal reading."@@ Noelle scoots a bit closer again now that the pressure's off. She's still a little pink with embarrassment, but no longer on the verge of panic. @@.noelle;"I can do that,"@@ she murmurs. @@.noelle;"I can definitely do that."@@ You take a steadying breath and begin reading the lines aloud. You keep your voice neutral, careful not to slip into performance. Romeo's speech spills out poetic and over-the-top, even without acting. You can practically feel the metaphor straining under its own intensity. Noelle stares at the page, mortified but listening. Jordan follows along closely, brows furrowed in focus rather than amusement. ROMEO If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. JULIET Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss. ROMEO Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? JULIET Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. ROMEO O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. JULIET Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake. ROMEO Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take. //He kisses her// Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged. JULIET Then have my lips the sin that they have took. ROMEO Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again. //He kisses her// JULIET You kiss by th’ book. You finish the last line. @@.jordan;"Well,"@@ Jordan says, leaning back. @@.jordan;"That was definitely Shakespeare."@@ Noelle lets out a nervous laugh. @@.noelle;"It's like... polite flirting."@@ @@.player;"It's basically a verbal dance, yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"They're negotiating the kiss before it even happens."@@ Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"That's the important part, if you ask me. Juliet isn't passive here. She pushes back and sets boundaries. Romeo really has to work for it."@@ @@.noelle;"I do like that she doesn't just... let it happen."@@ Noelle says, considering your words. @@.noelle;"She controls the pace."@@ @@.jordan;"But they still kiss,"@@ Jordan adds dryly. She blushes again. @@.noelle;"Okay, yes."@@ @@.player;"It must feel perfect to them right now,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We already know how badly it ends, though."@@ There's a quiet pause after that as you all ruminate over the discussion today. Jordan checks the clock on the wall. @@.jordan;"We've probably got enough for today."@@ @@.noelle;"Other groups aren't even reading,"@@ Noelle says, peeking around the room. @@.noelle;"They're just talking about random stuff."@@ You set the script down gently. @@.player;"Then I think we're good."@@ The bell is close now. The scene is finished. <<button "Theater over!" "Day 22 - 28">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d22julietlean is true>>\ <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ <<grantAchievement "D22FlusterJordan">>\ <<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You don't pull away. Instead, you lean in. Not dramatically or like a performance that's meant to impress people. Just a small, instinctive movement forward. You close the space between you and Jordan just enough that the moment starts feeling real. Jordan notices immediately. His breath stutters a little, and for the first time since you started reading, his focus slips. Not enough for anyone else in the room to notice, of course, but enough for you. His shoulders tense, then relax again, like he's reminding himself where he is and what he's doing. That this is still just a scene. Still, his eyes stay on yours. You're close now. Close enough that you can see the faint freckle near his cheekbone. Close enough that the stage lights reflect softly in his eyes. Close enough that the script feels less important than the space between you. Jordan swallows, then continues. @@.jordan;"Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged."@@ His voice is quieter and projects less than before. It doesn't really sound like Romeo addressing Juliet anymore. It sounds like Jordan trying very, very hard to keep his voice steady. Your heart is pounding as well, but you manage to answer. @@.player;"Then have my lips the sin that they have took."@@ You weren't expecting how intimate that line would feel when spoken this close. When Jordan's attention is fully on you. He hesitates. It's only for a fraction of a second, but it's there. A tiny break in his usual confidence. When he speaks again, the words come out just a little faster, like he's pushing through the nerves. @@.jordan;"Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again."@@ You don't move. Hell, you don't even pull back. You just stay, staring into his eyes, letting the moment exist exactly where it is. Noelle makes a distressed sound behind you, something between a squeak and a gasp, and then goes completely silent again. Jordan leans in just enough to complete the intention of the scene. Not actually kissing, that line isn't meant to be crossed yet, but enough that the meaning is unmistakable. Close enough that your heart stops and something warm blooms in your chest. @@.player;"You kiss by th' book,"@@ you say, the words coming out softer than you intended. Jordan pulls back a little too quickly, and surprisingly looks... flustered. Not too much, but his composure is clearly slipping at the edges. @@.jordan;"...Yeah,"@@ he mutters automatically, forgetting for half a second that Romeo isn't meant to respond there. He clears his throat. @@.jordan;"I mean—"@@ You can't help a smile from creeping onto your face. It's small, sure, but it's genuine and aimed directly at him. Jordan freezes for a few seconds before his embarrassment fully catches up to him. He lets out a short, breathless laugh and shakes his head as if he's trying to reset himself. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ he says quietly, more to himself than anyone else. @@.jordan;"Okay, Jordan. Professional. Focus."@@ @@.noelle;"I-I'm never going to recover from this,"@@ Noelle whispers, eyes wide and face red. You lower the script, heart still racing, and glance at Jordan again. He avoids your eyes, but you can see that his lips are curved into a small smile he clearly doesn't know what to do with. When the silence stretches just a little too long, you put the script back down. @@.player;"That's... probably a good place to stop,"@@ you say. Jordan and Noelle both nod quickly. @@.jordan;"Yeah. Definitely."@@ @@.noelle;"Please,"@@ Noelle begs. <<else>>\ You lean in. Not dramatically or anything or enough to significantly close the distance. But enough that it's certainly noticeable. Enough that the moment stretches a little longer than it really needs to. Enough that it's definitely off-script. Jordan feels it immediately. His eyes flick up from the page, meeting yours for half a second too long. Then his expression tightens. Not angry or harsh, but guarded. He straightens, pulling away from you. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ he says, voice neutral again. @@.jordan;"That's where the kiss would happen. The important thing here is the wordplay and the whole pilgrim metaphor. It's structures flirting."@@ Noelle frowns, sensing the awkward shift in the air too. Jordan doesn't look at you again as he continues. @@.jordan;"We don't need to go further than that. The rest is obvious."@@ You ease back, heat creeping up your neck, suddenly very aware of how close you leaned in. The moment passes, and it seems Jordan has chosen to classify that as "just acting." @@.jordan;"That's enough for analysis today."@@ And just like that, the scene closes. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d22julietlean is false>>\ You don't lean in or make a moment out of the kiss. Instead, you clear your throat and look back down at the page. <<if $jordanRomance > 19>>\ @@.player;"Uh, so, yeah,"@@ you say, a little too quickly. @@.player;"So... this is where they kiss."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"So, yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"So this is where they kiss."@@ <</if>>\ Noelle immediately makes a small, panicked noise. @@.noelle;"Y-yeah,"@@ she echoes, nodding way too hard while still refusing to look up. @@.noelle;"They-They kiss."@@ Jordan blinks. You tilt the script slightly so both of them can see again, re-centering it. The moment passes and Jordan resumes reading, voice steady and professional again. @@.jordan;"Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged."@@ You glance at the line, then answer flatly, doing your best to keep your tone neutral. @@.player;"Then have my lips the sin that they have took."@@ Noelle shifts beside you, clearly relieved that no one tried to do anything. @@.jordan;"Sin from my lips?"@@ Jordan continues. @@.jordan;"O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again."@@ You pause. @@.player;"Stage direction again,"@@ you add, tapping the page. @@.player;"He kisses her a second time."@@ Noelle nods rapidly. @@.noelle;"Mhm. Yes. Kiss."@@ Jordan lets out a short, amused breath despite himself as you finish up the exchange. @@.player;"You kiss by th’ book."@@ You all sit there for a moment after that, the scene officially over. The air is now less awkward. Still a bit strange, sure, but manageable. Like you all collectively stepped back onto solid ground. Jordan leans back on his hands again. @@.jordan;"So, what they're basically doing is turning religious metaphors into flirting until it escalates."@@ @@.player;"And at the end, Juliet says Romeo kisses by the book,"@@ you point out. @@.player;"The book being the bible, of course."@@ Noelle nods, cheeks still pink. @@.noelle;"I get why people think it's romantic, now,"@@ she admits quietly. @@.noelle;"It's... clever."@@ @@.jordan;"Not to mention fast,"@@ Jordan adds. @@.jordan;"They meet, talk for like thirty seconds, and immediately break every rule they're not supposed to. Beautiful, maybe, but reckless."@@ You close the script gently, setting it down next to you. @@.player;"I think that's enough for today."@@ Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"Yeah. I think we analyzed more than most groups."@@ @@.noelle;"Other groups aren't even reading,"@@ Noelle says, peeking around the room. @@.noelle;"They're just talking about random stuff."@@ @@.player;"Then I think we're good."@@ The bell is close now. The scene is finished. <</if>>\ <<button "Theater over!" "Day 22 - 28">><</button>>

Mr. Bennet claps his hands together sharply, the sound echoing through the auditorium. Conversations die down as groups slowly look up. Some are mid-discussion, others mid-performance, but for most, it's clear they've just been talking. @@.boy;"Alright, my dazzling disasters,"@@ he announces, pacing toward the center of the room with his clipboard held high like a sacred text. @@.boy;"Let us draw this beautiful chaos to a close."@@ He pauses, then lets the next line land with theatrical weight. @@.boy;"Auditions for //Romeo and Juliet// will be this Wednesday."@@ The room reacts instantly. Chairs creak as people shift. Someone whispers an unmistakable @@.girl;"Oh no."@@ Another student mutters a prayer under their breath. One girl just screams. @@.boy;"Two days,"@@ Mr. Bennet says brightly. @@.boy;"A blink. A heartbeat. A perfectly reasonable amount of time to have an existential crisis and then rise above it."@@ He points his clipboard at the class like a wand. @@.boy;"If you want one of our leading roles, I expect you to bring your best. I want commitment! I want courage! I want to see you make choices and stand by them, even if they are terrible ones."@@ A few students shift nervously. @@.boy;"And for those who don't, fear not!"@@ he adds cheerfully. @@.boy;"I have a long and rich history of casting deeply expressive trees, emotionally complex rocks, and the occasional deeply misunderstood bush."@@ Everyone laughs reluctantly. @@.player;"Is he being serious?"@@ you ask Jordan. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he replies. @@.boy;"Class dismissed,"@@ he declares, sweeping an arm toward the exit. @@.boy;"Go rest, hydrate, and panic responsibly."@@ The room immediately dissolves into movement. People sling their bags over their shoulders and shove their scripts into their backpacks. Conversations overlap as everyone funnels toward the doors. The end-of-day exhaustion hums through the air. It's heavy, sure, but everyone's relieved. Noelle stands abruptly, almost knocking over her backpack in the process. She grabs it, clutching it to her chest, then turns toward you and Jordan with an earnest expression. @@.noelle;"Um!"@@ she blurts, then stops, cheeks already pink. You and Jordan both look at her. She bows. Not a full bow, but a small one. She's stiff too, like she's terrified of doing it wrong. @@.noelle;"Th-Thank you,"@@ she says quickly. @@.noelle;"For letting me join your group today. I had a really good time."@@ Jordan blinks, surprised. @@.jordan;"Yeah. You were great."@@ @@.player;"Seriously,"@@ you echo, nodding. @@.player;"You did really well."@@ Her blush deepens. @@.noelle;"Thanks!"@@ she blurts out before straightening. She bows again, somehow even less coordinated than the first. @@.noelle;"Good luck on the auditions!"@@ And before either of you can respond, she turns and scurries away, nearly tripping over a costume in her haste to escape. She disappears into the stream of students heading for the door, shoulders hunched, but moving just a little lighter than she had earlier. You watch her go, smiling faintly. When you turn back, Jordan is getting ready to go. He has a bag over his shoulder and is straightening out his varsity jacket. The theater is almost empty, the stage lights humming softly over the empty room. @@.jordan;"She's braver than she thinks,"@@ Jordan mutters. @@.player;"She really is,"@@ you say. <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ There's a pause as you feel the weight of the moment settle in. You can't believe auditions are in two days. School is technically over for the day, but neither of you are in a rush to leave yet. Jordan shifts his weight, looking like he might say something. Or maybe he's waiting for you to. <<else>>\ Jordan stretches his arms and you can tell he's about to leave soon. You //could// say something if you wanted to. <</if>>\ <<button "Ask Jordan if he wants to hang out after school" "Day 22 - 29">>\<<set $d22afterhangout to true>>\<<trackChoice "D22_afterhangout" "Ask Jordan if he wants to hang out after school" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Just head out" "Day 22 - 29">>\<<set $d22afterhangout to false>>\<<trackChoice "D22_afterhangout" "Just head out" "rel">><</button>>

<<if $d22afterhangout is true>>\ <<if $jordanRomance > 19>>\ <<grantAchievement "D22JordanHangout">>\ You hesitate for a second, just long enough to feel your heart thump, then decide not to overthink it. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, trying to keep your voice casual. @@.player;"Do you want to hang out after school? Maybe go over the scene a bit more. Or just, hell, do whatever."@@ Jordan answers immediately. @@.jordan;"Yeah."@@ The word comes out so fast you're not sure if he even heard your question. He freezes. @@.jordan;"...I mean,"@@ he adds quickly, clearing his throat and shifting his weight like he suddenly remembered how he's meant to act. @@.jordan;"Yeah, that could be good. Productive for, you know, auditions."@@ You bite back a smile. @@.player;"Right. Very academic."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says, rubbing the back of his neck. @@.jordan;"Strictly SHakespeare."@@ There's a warmth in his eyes that wasn't there before, as he looks genuinely pleased. Like you offered him something he'd been hoping for but didn't want to assume. @@.player;"I'm glad,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"Me too,"@@ he replies softly. Then, realizing how that sounded, he straightens. @@.jordan;"I mean, yeah. Me too."@@ The theater is basically empty now. Somewhere behind you, Mr. Bennet's voice echoes faintly from the far end of the room, passionately explaining something to a lone, unfortunate student. Dust motes drift lazily in the air like the room itself is winding down. Jordan gestures toward the side exit with a tilt of his head. @@.jordan;"You want to head out this way?"@@ @@.player;"Why the side exit?"@@ you ask, furrowing your eyebrows. @@.jordan;"It's quieter with a lot less traffic. I always use it when I don't feel like dealing with... everyone."@@ You nod, and the two of you across the room. @@.jordan;"So,"@@ he says casually, a little //too// casually, @@.jordan;"you were good back there. With the scene I mean."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Good as in 'acceptable' or good as in actually good?"@@ He snorts. @@.jordan;"Good as in I forgot we were in a high school theater class for a second."@@ <<if $d22readjuliet is true>>\ Your chest warms at that. @@.player;"You weren't so bad yourself, Romeo."@@ @@.jordan;"Please don't call me that,"@@ Jordan groans. @@.player;"Who knows, maybe you //do// kiss by the book,"@@ you say lightly. Jordan's ears turn pink immediately. @@.jordan;"That was acting."@@ @@.player;"Uh-huh."@@ @@.jordan;"You're trouble,"@@ he says, laughing under his breath. @@.player;"Funny,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I was thinking the same thing."@@ <<else>>\ Your chest warms at that. @@.player;"I know, I know, I'm the best actor of this generation."@@ @@.jordan;"Now, I wouldn't go that far,"@@ Jordan says, smirking. @@.player;"Really?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Because I did better than you. You couldn't even focus on the text."@@ Jordan's ears turn pink immediately. @@.jordan;"That usually doesn't happen."@@ @@.player;"Hmm,"@@ you say, smirking. <</if>>\ As you reach the side exit, Jordan pushes the door open and holds it. @@.jordan;"After you."@@ You head out, leaving the theater behind for something new. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 30">><</button>> <<elseif $jordanRelo > 29>>\ <<grantAchievement "D22JordanHangout">>\ You hesitate, but then decide not to overthink it. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. @@.player;"Do you want to hang out after school? Maybe work on scenes a little more. Or, hell, just hang out."@@ Jordan blinks, clearly not having expected the question. He doesn't answer immediately, instead looking off toward the empty rows of seats, jaw tightening as he thinks it over. For a second, you wonder if you pushed too fast. Then he nods. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I'm free."@@ The answer is simple, but the relief hits you anyway. You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you repeat, just to be sure. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says again, more firmly this time. There's a small grin on his face now as well. @@.jordan;"I probably wasn't going to do anything productive anyway."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Perfect. Not doing anything productive is kinda my specialty, y'know."@@ Jordan slings his bag fully over his shoulder and gestures toward a door. @@.jordan;"Side exit?"@@ @@.player;"Side exit,"@@ you agree, fumbling with your bag. You walk off the stage together, the wooden steps creaking under your feet. The theater feels different now, like it's already shutting itself down for the day. Somewhere behind you, Mr. Bennet's voice echoes faintly from the far end of the room, passionately explaining something to a lone, unfortunate student. You step outside together into the parking lot, the air cooler than you expected after being indoors all day. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 30">><</button>> <<else>>\ You hesitate just a second, then decide not to overthink it. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, keeping your tone casual. @@.player;"Um... do you want to hang out after school? Maybe run lines or just talk things through a bit?"@@ Jordan pauses, still for a brief moment. @@.jordan;"Oh."@@ He lets out a short breath and rubs the back of his neck. @@.jordan;"Uh, today's kinda bad, actually."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Oh. That's fine."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he continues. @@.jordan;"Got a lot of stuff to do after school. Family things, training, just busy in general."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, totally,"@@ you say, trying to sound unbothered. @@.jordan;"Good job today, though,"@@ Jordan says, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you reply. Jordan turns and heads toward the side exit of the theater instead of the main doors. You watch him push it open and slip through, the door swinging shut behind him. The stage feels bigger once he's gone. You stand there for a moment longer than you need to, listening to the humming of the lights and the distant sounds of students leaving the building. Eventually, you sling your own bag over your shoulder and head out too. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 41">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $jordanRomance > 19>>\ <<grantAchievement "D22JordanHangout">>\ <<grantAchievement "D22JordanHangoutRequest">>\ You don't say anything right away. You just stand there with Jordan for a moment longer than necessary. The quiet of the empty theater settles around you; stage lights hum softly, lockers slam shut, and chatter fades. It feels like the day is over, but the moment isn't quite ready to end. @@.player;"I should probably head home,"@@ you say casually, like your heart isn't still doing something strange and uneven in your chest. @@.player;"It's getting late."@@ Jordan blinks. @@.jordan;"Already?"@@ You nod, picking up your backpack. @@.player;"Yeah. The school day's got me wiped out."@@ @@.jordan;"Fair,"@@ he says, chuckling. He hesitates, then asks, a little too quickly, @@.jordan;"You got anything important after school?"@@ You pause, thinking about it. @@.player;"Uhh, not really, no. Homework. Dinner. Bothering my little sister. The usual stuff."@@ @@.jordan;"Oh,"@@ he says quietly. Jordan looks down for a second, jaw tightening just slightly. You recognize the look now, the one he gets when he's thinking hard. You can tell that he's deciding whether to do something risky or retreat back into control. He shifts his grip on his bag, then exhales through his nose like he's bracing himself. @@.jordan;"...Hey,"@@ he says, and when he looks back up at you, his expression is sincere. @@.jordan;"If you're not busy, do you want to hang out after school?"@@ Your heart gives a small, startled jump. He keeps talking, clearly afraid that if he stops, he won't start again. @@.jordan;"I mean, nothing crazy. We could grab something to eat. Or just walk. Or talk about auditions. Or not talk about auditions."@@ He winces faintly. @@.jordan;"I'm bad at pitching this."@@ @@.player;"You're doing fine,"@@ you say, smiling before you can stop yourself. That seems to encourage him. @@.jordan;"There's a side exit that leads to the back of the school,"@@ he adds. @@.jordan;"It's quieter with a lot less traffic. I always use it when I don't feel like dealing with... everyone."@@ @@.player;"That sounds nice,"@@ you say, nodding. Jordan's shoulder relax instantly, like he's been holding his breath this whole time. @@.jordan;"It does?"@@ @@.player;"It does,"@@ you repeat. He grins. @@.jordan;"Cool. Then, uh, we should probably go before Bennet comes back. He might decide to trap us in here and monologue."@@ As if on cue, Mr. Bennet's voice echoes faintly from the far end of the room, passionately explaining something to a lone, unfortunate student. You and Jordan exchange a look. @@.jordan;"Side exit,"@@ you both say at the same time. You scramble toward the door, and as you reach it, he pushes it open for you. Cool afternoon air spills in, carrying the sound of distant voices and cars pulling out of the parking lot. It feels like there's nowhere you're supposed to be right now except right here. @@.jordan;"So... we're really doing this,"@@ Jordan says, stepping out beside you, glancing your way. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We are."@@ He smiles again as the two of you head away from all the noise into something new. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 30">><</button>> <<elseif $jordanRelo > 29>>\ You sit there for a moment longer than you probably need to. The theater feels strangely hollow now that most of the class has cleared out. Jordan adjusts the strap of his bag, glances toward the stage, then looks back at you. Neither of you says anything right away. Jordan is the one who breaks the silence. @@.jordan;"I guess I should head out."@@ @@.player;"Same,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Probably time for me to go home too."@@ He gives a small smile. @@.jordan;"Long day."@@ @@.player;"Definitely."@@ Another pause settles in, and it's clear there's something hovering between you that neither of you quite knows how to reach for yet. Jordan clears his throat. @@.jordan;"Good luck with auditions,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"On Wednesday."@@ @@.player;"You too,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"You're gonna do great."@@ His smile widens just a bit at that. @@.jordan;"We'll see."@@ He shifts his weight toward the side exit. The one he usually takes when he doesn't feel like running into half the football team in the main hall. He hesitates there, just for a second, like he's considering saying something else. @@.jordan;"See you tomorrow,"@@ he says, lifting his hand in a small wave. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"See you."@@ Jordan turns and heads out the side door, disappearing into the quiet parking lot. You watch the door swing shut behind him, feeling like you should've said something. Nevertheless, you sling your own backpack over your shoulder and head toward the main exit. You both walk away in opposite directions, but for some reason, it feels like neither of you really wanted to be the first to leave. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 41">><</button>> <<else>>\ You linger for half a second after Noelle disappears, swinging your legs on the stage. Jordan adjusts the strap of his bag and glances at the stage, then back at you. @@.jordan;"Well,"@@ he says, easy and neutral, @@.jordan;"guess that's it."@@ @@.player;"Guess it is,"@@ you echo, nodding. You brain flicks through everything that happened in class. The improv, recruiting Noelle, the reading, and then Mr. Bennet revealing auditions are on Wednesday. A lot happened, and now you just want to go home. Jordan shifts his weight once. @@.jordan;"Good luck with auditions."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You too."@@ He hesitates just long enough to make sure you're actually done talking, then gives a short wave. @@.jordan;"See you."@@ @@.player;"Bye,"@@ you reply. You step off the stage first, the wooden steps creaking softly under your feet. As you head toward the exit, you glance back once and see Jordan already turning the other way, heading for the side door. It's time to go home. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 41">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

The hum of morning chatter fills the classroom as you step into homeroom. Most students are already settled in, slumped over their desks or scrolling through their phones. A few have the energy to talk, albeit softly. At the front of the room, Ms. Carter stands near her desk, flipping through a stack of papers with calm efficiency. She gives you a nod when you walk in. @@.girl;"Good morning, $name."@@ @@.player;"Morning,"@@ you mumble, heading for your usual seat near the window. Your assigned homeroom partner, Jessica, is already there. She glances up from her phone and smiles. @@.jessica;"Hey,"@@ she says, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. @@.jessica;"You survived the weekend?"@@ @@.player;"Just barely,"@@ you say, setting your bag down. @@.jessica;"Same,"@@ Jessica says, giggling. @@.jessica;"Because of Homecoming, I feel like I only really had one day off. Just makes Monday feel even worse than usual."@@ You slide into your seat just as the bell rings. @@.girl;"Alright, everyone, eyes up here!"@@ Ms. Carter says, clapping her hands. The room quiets, phones sliding into pockets and conversations tapering off. @@.girl;"Happy Monday. I hope you all had a great weekend after Homecoming."@@ A few students groan. @@.girl;"I'll take that as a 'sort of,'"@@ Ms. Carter says, smiling knowingly. She picks up a small stack of printed sheets and continues, @@.girl;"Now, as you've probably seen from the school app, this week is Cultural Appreciation Week. It's an event the school has decided to do this year to celebrate where we all come from and to share traditions, stories, and food. There will be a festival on Friday with music, performances, and booths from different cultures. It's getting set up right now."@@ That gets a murmur of interest from the room. Someone in the back perks up. @@.boy;"Will there be food again?"@@ @@.girl;"Yes, there will be,"@@ Ms. Carter says with a smile. A few people cheer. @@.girl;"But please don't go there only for the food. The cafeteria and courtyard will host booths representing different cuisines. You'll all get time to visit during lunch and after school."@@ Jessica leans toward you, whispering, @@.jessica;"Okay, I'm not saying I only care about food, but that sounds pretty damn good."@@ @@.player;"You and Luke would get along,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.jessica;"Oh, we already do,"@@ Jessica says with a grin. Ms. Carter moves on, pulling out a set of large poster boards from behind her desk. @@.girl;"For today's homeroom activity, each of you will make a poster about your cultural background. Nothing too complicated, it can include your family's country of origin, symbols, language, food, or anything that represents who you are. Get creative!"@@ The sound of rustling fills the room as students glance at one another. You're not sure if they're forming ideas or trying to remember their family trees. Jessica leans back in her seat as Ms. Carter finishes handing out supplies. @@.jessica;"So,"@@ she says, glancing at you with a small grin, @@.jessica;"what's your cultural background? You gonna go full K-Pop aesthetic on your poster? There's this girl from this group, I'VEY, I think. She's ''really'' pretty."@@ You laugh softly. @@.player;"I'm... Korean American, I guess."@@ @@.jessica;"Guess?"@@ she teases. You shrug, staring down at the blank white poster on your desk. @@.player;"Yeah. My grandparents were born in Korea, but my parents were born here. I'm third-generation, so I guess it's kind of mixed? I've grown up with both sides."@@ You pause, tapping the edge of your pencil against the desk. @@.player;"Just not sure what to do for the poster. Korean? American? Or, like, both?"@@ @@.jessica;"That's actually kinda cool,"@@ Jessica says, humming thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"You've got options. Meanwhile, I'm just..."@@ She waves her hand vaguely in the air. @@.jessica;"Generic white person number five."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"My family has been in America for, like, forever,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Since before anyone kept proper records. My mom says we're mostly German and Norwegian, but at this point I'm probably a mix of random European stuff that got lost in translation. So basically, I'm your standard-issue, store-brand American."@@ @@.player;"I mean, that's one way to put it,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.jessica;"Seriously, my great-grandparents on my mom's side used to make these weird country recipes at Christmas,"@@ Jessica goes on. @@.jessica;"Sauerkraut, bratwurst, all that German stuff. But my parents? They couldn't care less. We'll get a burger, I guess."@@ @@.player;"A true patriot,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.jessica;"Exactly."@@ She points her marker at you like she's making a revelation. @@.jessica;"That's why I think people like you have it more interesting. You've actually got a culture you can trace. Languages, food, holidays, all that. What am I gonna say? That I like apple pies and baseball?"@@ @@.player;"Hey, that's American culture you're talking about,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"Show some respect."@@ You look down at your blank sheet again, imagining what it might look like filled in. Your expression drops. An American flag? A Korean flag beside it? Pictures of Los Angeles and Seoul? Maybe simple like bulgogi, hanboks, and the family dinner your mom still insists that you and Lily eat. You want to show where you come from, but also where you are now. @@.jessica;"You're overthinking it already,"@@ Jessica says, observing your face. @@.player;"Yeah, I guess I am,"@@ you say, leaning back in your seat. @@.player;"I guess I don't really know who I am."@@ @@.jessica;"All I've gotta do is draw a massive hot dog. Maybe some beer and a fjord to spice it up a little. You, though, you've got decisions to make. You can mix both and make something really cool! It's kinda neat, don't you think?"@@ @@.player;"I guess,"@@ you say, unsure of yourself. @@.player;"It would look weird if I mixed both, though."@@ She grins. @@.jessica;"Nah. Korean culture is the big thing right now. You'd fit right in the 'dual-identity' trend that's been going around on TikTok."@@ @@.player;"Is that real?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"Nah, I just made it up,"@@ she says, smirking. You roll your eyes, but can't help smiling. Jessica taps a marker against her desk thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"So wait, you said your grandparents were the ones who moved here?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you nod. @@.player;"They immigrated after the Korean War. My parents were born in California. And seeing as I'm here, I was too."@@ @@.jessica;"That's awesome,"@@ Jessica says, sounding genuine. @@.jessica;"You're just all Korean. I've got ancestors from countries I can't even pronounce. You could trace your family tree and actually get to the roots without getting lost in Ellis Island paperwork. You are truly untouched by the chaos of European genealogy, $name."@@ @@.player;"That's... one way to put it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It is weird though, being so far removed. My grandparents still speak Korean fluently. My parents are conversational. I understand bits and pieces, but not enough to really say I'm bilingual. It's like the culture's still there, but has faded a little."@@ @@.jessica;"Hey, it's still something to be proud of,"@@ Jessica says, resting her chin on her hand. For a while, the two of you just sit there, the classroom full of quiet chatter and the squeak of markers on paper. Ms. Carter moves between desks, offering encouragement or suggesting ideas. You're not //just// decorating a poster, you're trying to explain who you are in art. The issue is... who //are// you? <<button "Go all-in on Korean heritage" "Day 22 - 4">>\<<set $heritage to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_heritage" "Go all-in on Korean heritage" "story">><</button>> <<button "Blend both sides" "Day 22 - 4">>\<<set $heritage to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_heritage" "Blend both sides" "story">><</button>> <<button "You're an American and proud" "Day 22 - 4">>\<<set $heritage to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D22_heritage" "You're an American and proud" "story">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D22JessicaCrashout">>\ The side exit door swings shut beside you, the dull clang echoing once before the sound fades. You're in the back parking lot, the one that barely anyone uses. It's quieter back here, no clusters of students, no parents waiting in idling cars, no annoying freshmen. Just a few vehicles scattered far apart. You're still caught in the soft feeling of the moment you just shared with Jordan when a sharp voice cuts through it. @@.jessica;"—I //did// check, I'm not stupid."@@ You both slow instinctively. A sleek, expensive car sits a few spaces away. It's glossy and immaculate in a way that immediately stands out. Next to it stands Jessica. She has her phone pressed to her ear, her posture rigid, one hand curled into a tight fist at her side. Her jacket is still on, but it's wrinkled and messy. Her ponytail, normally flawless and tight enough to survive a football game and a pep rally, is crooked. The maroon hair tie she always uses is clearly loosened and has slipped. A few strands cling messily to the sweat on her face. @@.jessica;"Because it's not //just// the keys,"@@ she snaps, voice furious. @@.jessica;"It's literally everything. And you'd know that if you actually bothered to—"@@ She stops herself abruptly, jaw tightening. @@.jessica;"Forget it,"@@ she says coldly. @@.jessica;"I'll handle it on my own, as always."@@ The call ends. She lowers the phone and stares at it for a moment, breathing hard, then lets out a sharp exhale and shoves it into her pocket. She mutters something under her breath that is definitely not school-appropriate. Jordan slows to a stop. You can tell that he's surprised, he's never seen her like this. No perfect smile or polished laugh or effortless command of the space around her. Just raw, human frustration, bleeding through every movement. @@.jordan;"That's Jessica, isn't it?"@@ he says quietly. You nod. @@.player;"Definitely, yeah."@@ Jessica crouches suddenly, dropping her backpack onto the ground and unzipping it with way more force than necessary. She digs through it, pulling out lip gloss, a wallet, folded papers, her phone again, then swears. @@.jessica;"Shit!"@@ she yells, then groans as she drags a hand through her hair. @@.jessica;"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."@@ Jordan hesitates. For someone who usually keeps to himself, avoids attention, and never initiates anything, you can practically see the moment where curiosity overrides instinct. @@.jordan;"Jessica?"@@ he says. She freezes, straightens slowly, and turns around. For just a split second, the mask is completely gone. Her blue eyes are wide, brows drawn together, irritation and stress written plainly across her face. Then she recognizes who's standing there, and snaps into motion. @@.jessica;"Oh!"@@ she says brightly. Too brightly, really. She straightens her jacket, lifts her chin, and reaches back to tighten her ponytail. Her fingers fumble when she realizes her hair and the tie are tangled. She drops her hand, recovering fast. @@.jessica;"Hey."@@ Her gaze flicks to you, then back to Jordan. She blinks. @@.jessica;"Wait. You know my name?"@@ Jordan shifts his weight, suddenly aware of his reputation. @@.jordan;"I mean, yeah,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"We go to the same school, and you're always dancing on the sidelines."@@ @@.jessica;"Right,"@@ Jessica says, laughing breathlessly. @@.jessica;"Yeah. Of course."@@ There's a pause as her eyes linger on him, longer than they usually do. She exhales and drops the act, just a little. @@.jessica;"Sorry,"@@ she says, rubbing her forehead. @@.jessica;"I'm just... having a day."@@ @@.player;"Did you lose something?"@@ you ask, glancing at the open backpack. @@.jessica;"My keys,"@@ she says immediately, frustration flaring again. @@.jessica;"Which, just to note, I had literally two minutes ago."@@ Jordan looks at the car, then back at the bag. @@.jordan;"Need some help?"@@ She hesitates. Pride flickers across her face, that need to be perfect, before something heavier wins out. @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ she admits. @@.jessica;"Please do."@@ The three of you look around. Under the car. Near the curb. Jordan makes Jessica turn her pockets inside out. Nothing. Jessica's shoulders slump just a little. @@.jessica;"I can't believe this,"@@ she mutters. @@.jessica;"I just want to go home."@@ Jordan watches her closely, curiosity etched into his expression. @@.jordan;"You okay?"@@ he asks carefully, like he's stepping onto unfamiliar ground. She opens her mouth, then closes it. She forces a smile that doesn't quite land. @@.jessica;"Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine."@@ It's very clear she's not. She glances around the lot, then back toward the school building. Her voice lowers. @@.jessica;"Could we... not do this out here?"@@ You exchange a look with Jordan. @@.player;"I mean, sure,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We can head out if you want to be alone."@@ Before she can respond, Jordan steps closer to the backpack, crouching down. @@.jordan;"Can I just check one thing?"@@ She nods. He opens the front pocket and reaches in. There's a brief pause before he pulls out a set of keys, dangling from his fingers. Jessica stares. @@.jessica;"...You're kidding me."@@ @@.jordan;"They were right here,"@@ Jordan says. She laughs. It's sharp at first, but slowly turns softer, relief cutting through the frustration. @@.jessica;"Oh my God. I checked that pocket a dozen times."@@ @@.player;"Thirteenth times the charm,"@@ you joke. She takes the keys from him. @@.jessica;"Thank you,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Seriously. I appreciate it."@@ She straightens, regaining a little of her composure, though the cracks are still there if you know where to look. @@.jessica;"Do you guys want a ride?"@@ she asks. Jordan glances at you. You nod, and he follows. She unlocks the car, the doors clicking open, and goes inside. You climb into the back with Jordan. The interior smells faintly like expensive leather and vanilla. The door shuts and the car comes to life. <<button "Jessica, Jordan, and you" "Day 22 - 31">><</button>>

The car eases out of the parking lot and onto the road, the quiet hum of the engine in the background. The interior really is immaculate. There aren't any empty cups, clothes, stray wrappers, or even a single coin rattling around. It doesn't really feel like a high school senior's car. Jordan shifts in his seat, glancing out the window, then back at Jessica. @@.jordan;"So... where are we going again?"@@ @@.player;"No idea,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I think we're past the point of asking. This is how kidnappings start, with Jessica Dahmer."@@ Jordan snorts. @@.jordan;"Yeah, this is definitely how I die. In a luxury sedan."@@ @@.jessica;"Relax, relax,"@@ Jessica says, letting out a short laugh. @@.jessica;"If I were kidnapping you, I'd at least play ominous music."@@ @@.player;"Missed opportunity,"@@ you say, glancing at the radio. She exhales, shoulders loosening a little. @@.jessica;"Honestly? I'm just driving. I wanted to go home, but now that I'm on the road, I don't want to go straight home anymore."@@ @@.player;"That's fine,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Going home right after school is overrated, anyway."@@ Jordan nods along. @@.jordan;"Especially after theater."@@ Jessica glances at him in the rearview mirror. @@.jessica;"You're in theater?"@@ she asks, clearly curious. @@.jordan;"Unfortunately,"@@ he says dryly. @@.player;"He means 'passionately but pretending not to care,'"@@ you correct. Jordan shoots you a look. @@.jordan;"Traitor."@@ Jessica smiles faintly, then says, almost like she's testing the words out loud, @@.jessica;"I could ''really'' go for Clancy's."@@ The universe seems to pause for a second. @@.jordan;"Clancy's?"@@ Jordan asks, turning slowly toward her. You lean forward. @@.player;"Tell us more."@@ She shrugs, one hand steady on the wheel. @@.jessica;"I don't know. Fries. A burger. Something greasy."@@ Jordan laughs, disbelief clear in his voice. @@.jordan;"Don't you usually eat, like... salads? And protein shakes?"@@ @@.jessica;"Okay, first of all, rude,"@@ Jessica groans. @@.jordan;"I'm just saying,"@@ he adds quickly, @@.jordan;"you don't exactly strike me as a 'chili-cheese-fries' kinda person."@@ @@.jessica;"Even cheer captains need a cheat day,"@@ she says flatly. @@.jessica;"I'm not made of kale."@@ You grin. @@.player;"This is huge character development."@@ @@.jordan;"Now we're speaking the same language,"@@ Jordan says, relaxing back into his seat. @@.player;"You //love// Clancy's,"@@ you point out. @@.player;"You talk about it like it's a Michelin Star restaurant."@@ @@.jordan;"It //is//,"@@ he says seriously. @@.jordan;"At least to me."@@ Jessica laughs, easily this time. @@.jessica;"Alright. It sounds like a unanimous decision, then."@@ @@.player;"I certainly support this,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Sometimes, you need to eat from a place that has questionable food standards."@@ She flicks on her turn signal. @@.jessica;"Then let's go."@@ The car turns left, and the tension from earlier starts to fade. You glance between Jordan and Jessica, noticing how they're still a little unsure around each other. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say, @@.player;"I feel this is the crossover episode nobody expected."@@ Jordan lets out a short huff. @@.jordan;"Yeah. I don't think we've ever actually talked before."@@ Jessica's head snaps toward him. @@.jessica;"Excuse you, Brooks?"@@ @@.jordan;"What?"@@ he asks, blinking. @@.jessica;"We absolutely //have// talked,"@@ she says, sounding genuinely affronted. @@.jessica;"Like, multiple times, actually."@@ Jordan frowns slightly, racking his brain. @@.jordan;"I... don't remember that."@@ She gasps. @@.jessica;"Wow. Okay. Fine. That's brutal."@@ @@.player;"Jordan has selective memory,"@@ you say, jumping in. @@.player;"It's a defense mechanism."@@ @@.jessica;"I've tried to talk to him ''so'' many times,"@@ Jessica complains. @@.jessica;"After games, at pep rallies, once in the hallway by the lockers. He never responds."@@ Jordan's brows knit together. @@.jordan;"Wait. You mean when you asked me if I was 'excited for Friday night'?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yes!"@@ @@.jordan;"I thought you were talking about the game."@@ @@.jessica;"I //was//,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"That was the whole point. You were meant to respond, and then I'd respond to that, and we'd have a conversation."@@ @@.jordan;"How about the time you said, 'Nice play out there'?"@@ @@.jessica;"That was me being friendly."@@ @@.jordan;"I responded, though. I said 'thanks' and kept walking."@@ @@.jessica;"Exactly,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"That was the problem."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Jordan, you're notoriously unapproachable."@@ @@.jordan;"Well, that's kind of the point,"@@ he says, his expression calm. @@.jessica;"You do it on purpose?"@@ Jessica asks, blinking. @@.player;"That's kinda depressing,"@@ you mutter. @@.jordan;"It's efficient,"@@ he replies evenly. @@.jordan;"I don't have a lot of time or energy. Between practice, family stuff, school, and theater, I'm already stretched thin. I don't really want to spend what little I have pretending to be someone I'm not."@@ Jessica frowns slightly. @@.jessica;"So you just... don't talk to people."@@ @@.jordan;"I talk to people I //want// to talk to,"@@ he says. He pauses, then adds, @@.jordan;"Or people who talk to me like an actual person."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"And the rest?"@@ He exhales quietly. @@.jordan;"Most people already have an idea of who I'm supposed to be. The silent, intimidating football guy. I don't feel like correcting them."@@ @@.jessica;"I... kind of respect that,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jordan;"You shouldn't take it personally,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"I wasn't avoiding you, I was avoiding everything."@@ @@.jessica;"That might be the most I've learned about someone in my car,"@@ Jessica says, giggling. @@.player;"See?"@@ you say. @@.player;"This //is// the crossover episode."@@ Jordan snorts. @@.jordan;"Don't get used to it. I'm not usually in this good of a mood."@@ @@.jessica;"Well, guess I'm glad I caught you today, then,"@@ Jessica says. The road stretches ahead. Clancy's is still a mile away, and nobody seems in a hurry to get there. <<button "Ask what's the worst fast food experience everyone has ever had" "Day 22 - 32">>\<<set $d22carconvo to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_carconvo" "Ask what's the worst fast food experience everyone has ever had" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask what the best comfort food is" "Day 22 - 32">>\<<set $d22carconvo to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_carconvo" "Ask what the best comfort food is" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask what Jordan and Jessica's favorite sauce is" "Day 22 - 32">>\<<set $d22carconvo to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D22_carconvo" "Ask what Jordan and Jessica's favorite sauce is" "rel">><</button>>

<<if $d22carconvo is 0>>\ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, @@.player;"important question before we get there. What's the worst fast-food experience either of you has ever had?"@@ Jordan doesn't even hesitate. @@.jordan;"Tacko Bong at 4 a.m."@@ You turn toward him immediately. @@.player;"That sounds like it's about to be a great story."@@ @@.jordan;"It was,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"At first."@@ Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"At first?"@@ Jordan nods solemnly. @@.jordan;"I'd gotten back from an away game and couldn't sleep. Everything was closed except Tacko Bong. I ordered way too much food. Like, an irresponsible amount."@@ You grin. @@.player;"As one does at 4 a.m."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"The tacos were perfect. Crunchy shells, the kind of cheese that doesn't exist in nature, and good beef. I thought I'd beaten the system."@@ @@.player;"So... what's the bad part?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Because so far this just sounds like a spiritual experience."@@ Jordan exhales through his nose. @@.jordan;"It was what happened after."@@ There's a beat as everyone realizes what he's talking about. @@.player;"Oh,"@@ you say. Jessica groans. @@.jessica;"Oh no."@@ Jordan nods once. @@.jordan;"Yeah."@@ You wince sympathetically. @@.player;"Say no more. I understand completely."@@ @@.jessica;"To be fair, it's kinda on you,"@@ Jessica says, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"Why'd you trust Tacko Bong at four in the morning?"@@ @@.jordan;"It betrayed me,"@@ he says flatly. She snorts. @@.jessica;"You should've known."@@ You laugh, then gesture toward her. @@.player;"Alright, your turn. Top this."@@ She sighs dramatically. @@.jessica;"Scary Queen."@@ Your eyebrows lift. @@.player;"The ice cream place?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yes,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"I ordered a milkshake 'cause I was craving one ''really'' badly."@@ @@.jordan;"Understandable,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jessica;"They hand it to me, and when I go in to take a sip, it's a complete block of ice,"@@ Jessica continues. @@.jessica;"Like, I am not exaggerating here. It was completely frozen solid."@@ @@.player;"That's a weapon, not a milkshake,"@@ you comment. @@.jessica;"I tried to wait it out,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"I took it outside, put it under the sun, and sat there for ten minutes. It didn't melt. If anything, I think it got colder."@@ @@.jordan;"That's impressive,"@@ Jordan says, laughing. @@.jessica;"The worst part is that when I licked it, the ice tasted really good,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"I just couldn't access it."@@ @@.player;"Tragic,"@@ you say, shaking your head. @@.jessica;"Alright, your turn, $name,"@@ she says, pointing at you. @@.jessica;"We've already shared."@@ <<button "Chronic Drive-In" "Day 22 - 33">>\<<set $d22carconvo1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_carconvo1" "Chronic Drive-In" "story">><</button>> <<button "Subpar" "Day 22 - 33">>\<<set $d22carconvo1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_carconvo1" "Subpar" "story">><</button>> <<button "Wide Jack Batter's" "Day 22 - 33">>\<<set $d22carconvo1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D22_carconvo1" "Wide Jack Batter's" "story">><</button>> <<elseif $d22carconvo is 1>>\ You settle back into the seat and decide to keep things easy. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, glancing between them. @@.player;"Important question before we get there. What's the best comfort food?"@@ Jordan doesn't even hesitate. @@.jordan;"Cheeseburger."@@ @@.jessica;"Wow,"@@ Jessica says, laughing. @@.jessica;"No thought, no nuance, just cheeseburger."@@ @@.jordan;"It's perfect,"@@ Jordan says, completely serious. @@.jordan;"Bread, meat, cheese. You can add whatever veggies you like. It's simple and reliable. On your worst days, when everything seems to be going wrong, the cheeseburger will be there for you."@@ @@.player;"That was... way more heartfelt than I expected,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.jordan;"It's just honest,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"A good American cheeseburger never lets you down."@@ Jessica scoffs. @@.jessica;"Okay, first of all, pizza clears."@@ @@.jordan;"Pizza is overrated,"@@ Jordan says immediately. She gasps. @@.jessica;"You did ''not'' just say that."@@ You lean forward, delighted. @@.player;"Oh, this is going down."@@ @@.jordan;"Pizza is chaos,"@@ Jordan continues. @@.jordan;"Too many damn variables and opinions. First, you have to choose whether you want an actual pizza, New York Style, or lasagna, for Chicago. From there, thin crust, thick crust, topping arguments, how to cut it, how to fold it. A burger knows what it is."@@ @@.jessica;"That's because burgers are boring,"@@ Jessica shoots back. @@.jessica;"Pizza is flexible. You can eat it at a party, alone at midnight, hot, cold, standing over the sink, anything."@@ @@.jordan;"Cold pizza is a crime,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jessica;"You're wrong,"@@ she fires back. @@.jessica;"Cold pizza is elite comfort food. It's there for you when you don't even have the energy to pop it in the microwave for a minute."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"She's got a point. Sometimes, you just need to nom on cold pizza like a gremlin."@@ Jordan shakes his head. @@.jordan;"A cheeseburger is peak American comfort food. When people think of America, what do they think of? A burger and fries, of course. It's literally the symbol of the country. Backyard barbecues, diners, road trips, it's just perfect."@@ Jessica taps the steering wheel thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"Pizza is American too. We adopted it and made it our own. That's the American way."@@ @@.player;"Are you //trying// to get the Mafia to attack us?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"Yeah, don't even say that to an Italian,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. @@.jordan;"I don't want to die to an angry food purist."@@ @@.jessica;"I don't care,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Pizza is American, end of discussion."@@ @@.jordan;"Pizza is a group food, too,"@@ Jordan continues. @@.jordan;"You have to share it with people. Cheeseburgers, on the other hand, are personal. One person, one burger. No sharing necessary. It's perfect."@@ @@.jessica;"That's antisocial comfort,"@@ she says. @@.jordan;"That's self-care,"@@ he counters. You laugh again. @@.player;"Maybe burgers are for when you want to feel grounded, and pizza is for when you want to feel distracted."@@ Jessica considers that for a few seconds. @@.jessica;"Okay, yeah. That's actually fair."@@ Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"I can accept that framing."@@ They both glance at you. @@.jessica;"Well?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.jessica;"What about you?"@@ Jordan tilts his head. @@.jordan;"Yeah. What's your comfort food? You're the one who brought the question up."@@ You open your mouth but then close it again. You have a number of dishes you like, but each one says something a little different about you. <<button "Fried chicken" "Day 22 - 33">>\<<set $d22carconvo1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_carconvo1" "Fried chicken" "story">><</button>> <<button "Mashed potatoes and gravy" "Day 22 - 33">>\<<set $d22carconvo1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_carconvo1" "Mashed potatoes and gravy" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ox bone soup" "Day 22 - 33">>\<<set $d22carconvo1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D22_carconvo1" "Ox bone soup" "story">><</button>> <<elseif $d22carconvo is 2>>\ You glance out the windshield as you get closer to Clancy's, then decide this is the perfect moment to throw something into the mix to make the conversation more fun. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, turning slightly so you can look between both of them. @@.player;"I have a very important question."@@ Jordan lifts an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"That's dangerous phrasing."@@ Jessica glances at you in the mirror. @@.jessica;"How important are we talking?"@@ @@.player;"Oh, it's life-altering,"@@ you say seriously. @@.player;"What's everyone's favorite sauce?"@@ There's a pause. @@.jordan;"Sauce for what?"@@ Jordan asks, squinting. @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ Jessica echoes. @@.jessica;"Like pasta? Salad? Dipping?"@@ @@.player;"All of the above,"@@ you say confidently. @@.jordan;"That's illegal,"@@ Jordan says without a moment of hesitation. @@.jordan;"You have to specify."@@ @@.player;"I'm asking, like, in a philosophical way,"@@ you argue. @@.player;"Sauce as a concept."@@ Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"That's not how sauces work, $name."@@ @@.player;"Sure it is,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Sauce is a lifestyle choice."@@ Jordan shakes his head. @@.jordan;"Absolutely not. Context matters. You can't just say 'favorite sauce' and expect a normal answer."@@ @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you say, sighing. @@.player;"Then let's narrow it down before you two start attacking me."@@ Jessica grins. @@.jessica;"Thank you."@@ You think for a moment before speaking again. @@.player;"Okay. Favorite sauce for chicken. Like nuggets or tenders or wings. Fast food chicken."@@ @@.jordan;"Oh,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"That's easy."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, that's much more reasonable,"@@ Jessica says, nodding. @@.jessica;"It's honey mustard."@@ Jordan makes a disgusted sound and physically recoils. @@.jordan;"Absolutely not."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah?"@@ Jessica says, challenging him. @@.jordan;"Honey mustard is too sweet,"@@ he says firmly. @@.jordan;"It's sugar pretending to be sauce."@@ @@.jessica;"It's tangy,"@@ she shoots back. @@.jordan;"It's sweet,"@@ Jordan insists. @@.jordan;"If I wanted dessert with my chicken, I'd order a milkshake."@@ Jessica laughs incredulously. @@.jessica;"That is ''such'' a bad take. Honey mustard is a classic. Sweet and tangy, it goes with everything."@@ @@.jordan;"It goes with //nothing//,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Buffalo sauce is objectively superior. It's spicy. It has personality."@@ @@.jessica;"Buffalo sauce is just spicy vinegar,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"It's aggressive for no reason."@@ @@.jordan;"It's bold,"@@ he counters. @@.jordan;"Honey mustard, on the other hand, is afraid to commit."@@ You watch them go back and forth, and they're both clearly enjoying this more than either of them will admit. @@.player;"I love that this is what sparks a battle."@@ Jessica glances at you through the mirror. @@.jessica;"You haven't answered."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says, nodding. @@.jordan;"You started this. Where do you stand?"@@ You raise your hands. @@.player;"Woah, woah, woah. Hold up. I didn't know I'd be forced to choose sides."@@ @@.jessica;"Too late,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"You're the tiebreaker."@@ Jordan leans slightly forward. @@.jordan;"So?"@@ They both look at you expectantly. <<button "Say honey mustard is better" "Day 22 - 33">>\<<set $d22carconvo1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_carconvo1" "Say honey mustard is better" "story">><</button>> <<button "Say buffalo sauce is better" "Day 22 - 33">>\<<set $d22carconvo1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_carconvo1" "Say buffalo sauce is better" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d22carconvo is 0>>\ <<if $d22carconvo1 is 0>>\ You let out a breath, already laughing as the memory surfaces. @@.player;"My worst experience? It's gotta be at Chronic Drive-In."@@ Jordan perks up immediately. @@.jordan;"Oh no."@@ @@.jessica;"That place is //such// a gamble,"@@ Jessica says, groaning. @@.player;"It was late,"@@ you begin, settling into the story. @@.player;"I was starving, and I ordered way too much food because their menu is a trap. The guy hands me this paper bag that already looks suspicious."@@ @@.jordan;"Suspicious how?"@@ Jordan asks. @@.player;"Ugh, I should've known,"@@ you say, chastising yourself. @@.player;"The bag was warm. Not from the food, but from the grease."@@ Jessica winces. @@.jessica;"Yuck."@@ @@.player;"I take it,"@@ you continue, gesturing vividly. @@.player;"I'm walking back to the car, feeling optimistic. Then, a few steps later, the bottom of the bag just gives up on life."@@ Jordan bursts out laughing. @@.jordan;"No."@@ @@.player;"It tears,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Straight down the middle. Fries everywhere. The patty sliding across the concrete. And all the grease, I'm telling you, ALL OF IT, just pours directly onto me."@@ @@.jessica;"Oh my God,"@@ Jessica says, making a noise of genuine horror. @@.player;"I just stood there in shock,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Like, staring at my ruined pants, surrounded by fallen fast food. I was still processing what happened for a whole minute."@@ Jordan is wheezing now. @@.jordan;"That's so bad."@@ @@.player;"It soaked through my cargo shorts,"@@ you add. @@.player;"I smelled like fried regret for an hour."@@ @@.jessica;"That's betrayal,"@@ Jessica murmurs, shaking her head. @@.player;"I trusted that bag,"@@ you say. Jordan claps a hand over his mouth, still laughing. @@.jordan;"I would've sat there in silence the whole drive home."@@ @@.player;"I did,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I just stared out the window, feeling the wind on my face, reflecting on how I ended up here."@@ Jessica pulls into a spot with a smooth turn and cuts the engine. @@.jessica;"I think you win, $name,"@@ she says, unbuckling her seatbelt, @@.jessica;"That's the worst one."@@ Jordan grins. @@.jordan;"You take first place in the shitty fast food stories contest."@@ You grin as the three of you climb out of the car. Clancy's is waiting ahead. <<elseif $d22carconvo1 is 1>>\ You laugh a little before you even start. @@.player;"Okay, mine was with Subpar. The sandwich place."@@ Jordan groans immediately. @@.jordan;"Say less."@@ @@.jessica;"That place is already playing with fire,"@@ Jessica says, shaking her head. @@.player;"So, I walk in and order a meterlong,"@@ you continue, settling in. @@.player;"Nothing fancy, I'm just starving and need some food ASAP. I sit down, unwrap it, and take a few bites. Everything tastes normal. Mediocre, yeah, but that's to be expected."@@ Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"The Subpar experience."@@ @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm like halfway through it when I notice something weird in the bread. Like a darker patch."@@ Jessica's face tightens. @@.jessica;"No."@@ @@.player;"Oh yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I peel the wrapper open a little and, this is the worst part, it's a receipt. Like, fully baked into the bread. Printer ink and all."@@ Jordan recoils. @@.jordan;"Absolutely not."@@ @@.jessica;"You're lying,"@@ Jessica says, making a sound of pure horror. @@.player;"I wish I was,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It was literally part of the loaf. I could see what the guy ordered."@@ @@.jordan;"That's beyond food contamination,"@@ Jordan mutters, pressing a hand to his forehead. @@.jordan;"That's basically a crime scene."@@ @@.player;"I just stared at it for a full minute,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Like my brain was trying to process whether it was all a hallucination."@@ @@.jessica;"So?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.jessica;"What did you do?"@@ @@.player;"I wrapped it back up,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Then I went up to the counter and showed them. The guy just went, 'Huh.' No apology or explanation. Just a huh."@@ @@.jordan;"He seriously just said huh?"@@ Jordan asks, raising his eyebrow. @@.player;"Well, he //did// offer me an oatmeal cookie,"@@ you finish. Jordan laughs outright. @@.jordan;"The audacity."@@ @@.player;"I didn't even take it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I couldn't trust them after that. I just left and haven't been back since."@@ Jessica pulls into a spot with a smooth turn and cuts the engine. @@.jessica;"I would've sued them,"@@ she says, unbuckling her seatbelt, @@.jessica;"There's gotta be a case for emotional damage."@@ Jordan grins. @@.jordan;"After all that trauma, I think we've earned some decent food."@@ You grin as the three of you climb out of the car. Clancy's is waiting ahead. <<elseif $d22carconvo1 is 2>>\ You grimace before you even start talking, like your body remembers before your brain finishes forming the sentence. @@.player;"Okay, mine was at the seafood place, Wide Jack Batter's."@@ Jordan immediately makes a face. @@.jordan;"Oh no."@@ Jessica groans. @@.jessica;"Why would you even go there?"@@ @@.player;"It was a mistake,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"A severe lapse in judgment. I was hungry, and it was close."@@ @@.jordan;"That's how they get you,"@@ Jordan comments. @@.player;"So,"@@ you continue, @@.player;"I order the fish basket. Seems safe enough, right? Fried fish. That's hard to mess up."@@ Jessica squints. @@.jessica;"I'm already suspicious."@@ @@.player;"I take one bite,"@@ you say, holding up a finger for emphasis, @@.player;"and immediately know something is wrong. Not 'this tastes bad' wrong, although it was that too. It was wrong in the way where you know that this fish has seen things."@@ Jordan recoils. @@.jordan;"Oh shit."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It tasted fishy. Like... aggressively fishy. In a way fried fish never should be."@@ Jessica makes a gagging noise. @@.jessica;"Oh my God."@@ @@.player;"I didn't even chew,"@@ you add. @@.player;"It hit my tongue and my brain instantly told me to abort. I spat it out so fast I think I must've broken some kind of record."@@ @@.jordan;"Expired fish,"@@ Jordan mutters, shaking his head. @@.player;"I just sat there staring at it, trying to decide if I was being dramatic,"@@ you say. @@.player;"And then I smelled it again and realized, no, I was absolutely correct."@@ @@.jessica;"I am so sorry that happened to you,"@@ Jessica says, pressing a hand to her chest. @@.player;"I threw the rest away,"@@ you finish. @@.player;"Didn't even ask for a refund. I just had to get home and brush my teeth."@@ Jordan laughs. @@.jordan;"Yeah, sometimes you've just gotta cut your losses and run."@@ @@.player;"Wide Jack Batters is officially dead to me,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Forever."@@ @@.jessica;"As it should be,"@@ Jessica says firmly. Jessica pulls into a spot with a smooth turn and cuts the engine. @@.jessica;"Well, on the bright side,"@@ she says, unbuckling her seatbelt, @@.jessica;"Clancy's has never betrayed me like that."@@ Jordan grins. @@.jordan;"Yet."@@ You grin as the three of you climb out of the car. Clancy's is waiting ahead. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d22carconvo is 1>>\ <<if $d22carconvo1 is 0>>\ @@.player;"Fried chicken,"@@ you end up saying. @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says, nodding. @@.jordan;"Yeah, that tracks. Good choice."@@ Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"Fried chicken is pretty good."@@ You grin and keep going, warming to it now that you've started. @@.player;"It's just... the perfect comfort food. Crispy, hot, and greasy. You //know// it's unhealthy, but you don't care. I like how you can eat it with your hands as well, you don't really have to think about it. It's there for you when you're feeling down."@@ @@.jordan;"I concur,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Fried chicken is great."@@ @@.player;"Not only that, it has sooo many forms,"@@ you add. @@.player;"Fast food fried chicken hits different, yeah, but grandma's homemade chicken is good too. Bone-in, boneless, spicy, plain, seasoned with sweet sauce."@@ @@.jordan;"Seasoned with sweet sauce?"@@ Jordan asks, confused. @@.jessica;"Oh my God, you haven't tried it?"@@ Jessica says, offended. @@.jessica;"There's this place that uses this sauce that's sweet and savoury, and it's really good."@@ @@.jordan;"Huh,"@@ Jordan says, thinking. The car slows, turn signal clicking as she pulls into the Clancy's parking lot. The place looks exactly like it always does. Run-down with the smell of grease clinging to the air. A few other cars are scattered around. You lean back as the run-down Clancy's sign fills the windshield. The parking lot comes into view, dotted with beat-up cars and a truck advertising a pimp that definitely does not belong here. Jessica pulls into a spot with a smooth turn and cuts the engine. @@.jessica;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"I think we have two good selections here."@@ @@.jordan;"What about mine?"@@ Jordan says. @@.jessica;"I said two,"@@ Jessica says. You grin as the three of you climb out of the car. Clancy's is waiting ahead. <<elseif $d22carconvo1 is 1>>\ @@.player;"Mashed potatoes and gravy,"@@ you end up saying. @@.jordan;"Oh, that's a strong choice,"@@ Jordan says. Jessica hums in approval. @@.jessica;"Okay, yeah. That's some real comfort food right there."@@ You nod, getting more confident now that you've said it out loud. @@.player;"There's just something about it. It's not flashy or anything, and it's usually not the main part of the meal. But mashed potatoes are kinda just there for you. Warm, soft, familiar. You eat it, and your brain can tell that you're safe now."@@ @@.jordan;"It //is// emotional food,"@@ Jordan says, nodding. @@.jessica;"And gravy really makes it,"@@ Jessica adds. @@.jessica;"It's not //bad// without gravy, but I feel some meat sauce makes it more comforting."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Right? Gravy is what turns it into comfort. It goes from side dish to something that'll fix your whole life."@@ @@.jordan;"It is kinda the food equivalent of someone putting a blanket on you,"@@ Jordan says. Jessica nods along. @@.jessica;"Or someone sitting you down and telling you everything's going to be just fine."@@ @@.player;"Not to mention that it doesn't matter where it comes from,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's hard to mess up mashed potatoes. It doesn't matter if it's homemade, from a cafeteria, or devoured at a questionable diner in the middle of the night. It still hits like a truck."@@ @@.jordan;"It //is// pretty universal,"@@ Jordan mutters, leaning back in his seat. @@.player;"See?"@@ you say. @@.player;"It transcends culture wars."@@ @@.jessica;"Why are we having such a serious discussion about potatoes?"@@ Jessica asks, laughing. @@.jordan;"Potatoes deserve respect,"@@ Jordan says solemnly. Jessica pulls into a spot with a smooth turn and cuts the engine. @@.jessica;"Alright,"@@ she says, unbuckling her seatbelt. @@.jessica;"I don't think they have mashed potatoes here, but we'll keep it in our minds while we eat."@@ @@.jordan;"I'll make sure to remember it,"@@ Jordan says. You grin as the three of you climb out of the car. Clancy's is waiting ahead. <<elseif $d22carconvo1 is 2>>\ @@.player;"Ox bone soup,"@@ you end up saying. There's a pause. @@.jordan;"The what?"@@ Jordan asks, blinking. @@.jordan;"Ox bone?"@@ Jessica glances at you in the mirror, eyebrows lifting. @@.jessica;"Is that, like, a medieval thing?"@@ You laugh. @@.player;"No, it's just Korean. It's called //Seolleongtang//."@@ @@.jordan;"Soulwangtang?"@@ Jordan repeats, getting it ''very'' wrong. @@.jordan;"Did I pronounce it right?"@@ @@.player;"You did really good,"@@ you lie, grimacing. @@.jordan;"I'm glad,"@@ Jordan says, smiling. @@.jordan;"So what is it?"@@ @@.player;"It's basically this really milky broth,"@@ you say. @@.player;"They boil ox bones for hours. Like, literally all day. Some people swear leaving it overnight makes it taste the best. The soup ends up super rich and delicious."@@ Jessica's curiosity kicks in. @@.jessica;"So... what do you put in it?"@@ @@.player;"Rice,"@@ you say. @@.player;"There's some green onions, noodles, and beef in there sometimes. You season it yourself with salt and pepper."@@ Jordan frowns slightly. @@.jordan;"That's it?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That's kind of the point."@@ @@.jordan;"So it's not flashy,"@@ Jordan says, leaning back as he thinks. @@.player;"Not at all,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"My grandparents always made it for me when I was sick or tired or just having a bad day. It smells like home, if that makes sense."@@ @@.jessica;"That actually sounds really nice,"@@ Jessica says, her expression softening a little. @@.player;"It's one of those foods where everyone has their own version,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Some people put noodles or rice straight into the soup. Some keep it separate. My grandma would get pissed if I seasoned it too fast. She said I had to taste the pure broth first before mixing it up."@@ Jordan smiles faintly at that. @@.jordan;"That's very... grandma-coded."@@ @@.player;"Oh, very much so,"@@ you say. @@.player;"She'd watch me like a hawk."@@ Jessica pulls into a spot with a smooth turn and cuts the engine. @@.jessica;"I kind of love that,"@@ she comments. @@.jordan;"My grandma only made me brussels sprout,"@@ Jordan complains. You grin as the three of you climb out of the car. Clancy's is waiting ahead. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d22carconvo is 2>>\ You take a moment, really thinking due to the gravity of the situation, before finally speaking. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"I've thought about it. I've weighed the options. And I have to be honest."@@ Jessica looks hopeful. <<if $d22carconvo1 is 0>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 1, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Honey mustard, no contest."@@ Jordan groans loudly, dropping his head back against the seat like he's just suffered a personal betrayal. @@.jordan;"This is unbelievable."@@ Jessica pumps her fist. @@.jessica;"Yes! Thank you. Finally, someone with taste."@@ @@.jordan;"You're both wrong,"@@ Jordan mutters. @@.jordan;"This is why society is collapsing, man."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Don't be dramatic. You literally called buffalo sauce 'bold.'"@@ @@.jordan;"It //is// bold,"@@ he insists. @@.jordan;"It knows what it is."@@ @@.player;"Honey mustard knows what it is too,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's comforting, reliable, and doesn't punch you in the mouth for no damn reason."@@ Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"Exactly. Buffalo sauce is hostile."@@ @@.jordan;"That's the appeal,"@@ Jordan shoots back. @@.jordan;"Food should challenge you."@@ @@.player;"Food should //support// you,"@@ you counter. @@.player;"Especially fast food chicken. I'm not trying to have a grand revelation while eating tenders."@@ @@.jessica;"See?"@@ Jessica exclaims, vindicated. @@.jessica;"$name gets it."@@ Jordan looks at her, then at you, shaking his head with a resigned smile. @@.jordan;"I can't believe I'm outnumbered in this debate, of everything."@@ @@.player;"You'll survive,"@@ you say kindly. @@.player;"Just dip your chicken in buffalo sauce and let the rest of us be normal."@@ @@.jordan;"Buffalo sauce is normal,"@@ Jordan mutters. @@.jordan;"I'm going to be judging the two of you silently if I see you guys eating honey mustard."@@ @@.jessica;"Not much of a threat, you're always judging silently,"@@ Jessica says dryly. He smirks. @@.jordan;"Fair."@@ You lean back as the run-down Clancy's sign fills the windshield. The parking lot comes into view, dotted with beat-up cars and a truck advertising a pimp that definitely does not belong here. Jessica pulls into a spot with a smooth turn and cuts the engine. @@.jessica;"Alright,"@@ she says, unbuckling her seatbelt. @@.jessica;"Honey mustard enjoyers and buffalo purists, welcome to neutral ground."@@ @@.jordan;"I'm getting extra buffalo just to get revenge,"@@ Jordan copes. You grin as the three of you climb out of the car. Clancy's is waiting ahead. <<elseif $d22carconvo1 is 1>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 1, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Buffalo sauce is better."@@ Jordan immediately grins. @@.jordan;"Yes."@@ @@.jessica;"Unbelievable,"@@ Jessica mutters. @@.jordan;"It really isn't unbelievable,"@@ Jordan says, clearly pleased. @@.jordan;"It's simply correct."@@ @@.jessica;"You're both wrong,"@@ she says, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"Honey mustard has so much range. It's perfect with sandwiches, salads, pretzels, just everything. A perfect condiment."@@ @@.jordan;"Buffalo sauce doesn't need all that,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"It's chicken's best friend. It doesn't need to be versatile, it's specialized."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"I think I like how buffalo sauce commits. It knows what it is, and it sticks to it. Honey mustard is trying to be sweet and tangy at the same time and just ends up as a confused mess."@@ @@.jessica;"I cannot believe you're psychoanalyzing sauces right now,"@@ Jessica murmurs. @@.jordan;"This knowledge is what makes $name right,"@@ Jordan says. She exhales, but she's smiling now, the earlier stress gone. @@.jessica;"Wow. Two against one. I see how it is."@@ @@.player;"Hey, you can still eat honey mustard,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We're not banning it."@@ @@.jordan;"Not yet, at least,"@@ Jordan adds. She shoots him a look. @@.jessica;"Go try. I'd lead the honey mustard revolution."@@ You lean back as the run-down Clancy's sign fills the windshield. The parking lot comes into view, dotted with beat-up cars and a truck advertising a pimp that definitely does not belong here. Jessica pulls into a spot with a smooth turn and cuts the engine. @@.jessica;"Fine,"@@ she says, unbuckling her seatbelt. @@.jessica;"I'll allow buffalo sauce this once."@@ @@.jordan;"Victory tastes spicy,"@@ Jordan says, pumping his fist. You grin as the three of you climb out of the car. Clancy's is waiting ahead. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Clancy's Time" "Day 22 - 34">><</button>>

The door swings shut behind you with a soft chime, and Clancy's hits you all at once. The smell of grease and salt wraps around you. The neon menu boards hum overhead. Somewhere behind the counter, fries hiss angrily in oil. Jessica stops just inside the entrance like she's bracing herself. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ she says, rolling her shoulders back. @@.jessica;"No judgment. No limits. No rules."@@ Jordan's already grinning. @@.jordan;"I love this energy."@@ @@.player;"This sounds like you're about to commit to something crazy,"@@ you comment. She points a finger at the menu. @@.jessica;"I am going to eat ''terribly'' today. Like, horrifyingly so. I'm talking grease, I'm talking regret, I'm talking the kind of meal that'll have my doctor sighing and signing me up for a blood test."@@ @@.jordan;"Say it louder!"@@ Jordan exclaims, as if she's giving a motivational speech. @@.jessica;"I, Jessica Sanders, am ''done'' pretending I don't want junk food,"@@ she continues, hyping herself up as you all move closer to the counter. @@.jessica;"I am eating a full feast. I'm getting everything on the menu 'cause I deserve it."@@ You squint at her. @@.player;"You're really selling this."@@ @@.jessica;"I am manifesting,"@@ she says firmly. Jordan leans toward you. @@.jordan;"This is big for her."@@ @@.player;"I can tell,"@@ you say. @@.player;"This feels historic."@@ When it's her turn to order, she steps up like she's about to make a proclamation. She stares at the menu, eyes darting across options, lips moving silently. @@.jessica;"I'll have..."@@ She pauses dramatically. @@.jessica;"...a cheeseburger."@@ Jordan nods encouragingly. @@.jessica;"And a small soda."@@ There's a long, heavy silence. Jordan blink. @@.jordan;"That's it?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yes,"@@ she says, immediately defensive. @@.jessica;"That's a full meal."@@ @@.player;"After that entire speech?"@@ you ask. She gestures wildly. @@.jessica;"It's still unhealthy! It's fried with processed meat and cheese!"@@ Jordan looks genuinely disappointed. @@.jordan;"Jessica. That's not a feast. That's a snack."@@ @@.jessica;"It is //not// a snack,"@@ she insists. @@.player;"Weren't we promised a spectacle?"@@ you ask, grinning. @@.jordan;"I thought we were about to witness something truly amazing,"@@ Jordan complains, shaking his head. @@.jessica;"Well, sorry I don't eat like a quarterback,"@@ she snaps back, though she's smiling now. @@.jordan;"Fine, I'll show you what a real order looks like,"@@ Jordan says, stepping up. @@.jordan;"The quarterback special."@@ He glances at the menu for a second. @@.jordan;"Double cheeseburger. Large fries. Chocolate milkshake."@@ Jessica's eyes widen. @@.jessica;"Wow. That's a big order."@@ Jordan pauses, thoughtfully tapping the counter. @@.jordan;"Actually, add five nuggets."@@ She stares at him. @@.jessica;"How the hell are you even alive?"@@ @@.jordan;"Barely,"@@ he says. You laugh. @@.player;"That's an entire day's worth of calories."@@ @@.jordan;"Worth it,"@@ he replies. @@.jessica;"I'm gonna be watching you eat all that,"@@ Jessica says, shaking her head. @@.jessica;"I need proof that this kind of gorging is possible."@@ @@.jordan;"Oh, you'll definitely have the proof you need,"@@ Jordan says, grinning. Then both of them turn toward you, expectant. @@.player;"Okay, first of all, I just wanted to say this is too much pressure,"@@ you say, glancing up at the menu. Jessica folds her arms. @@.jessica;"We're not judging. We're simply observing."@@ Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"She's right."@@ You exhale, eyes on the glowing menu, stomach rumbling. <<button "Get a spicy chicken sandwich" "Day 22 - 35">>\<<set $d22clancyorder to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyorder" "Get a spicy chicken sandwich" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get a beef burger" "Day 22 - 35">>\<<set $d22clancyorder to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyorder" "Get a beef burger" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get fish 🐟" "Day 22 - 35">>\<<set $d22clancyorder to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyorder" "Get fish 🐟" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d22clancyorder is 0>>\ You keep staring up at the menu like it's going to stare back and judge you if you choose wrong. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say slowly, mostly to buy time for yourself. @@.player;"I want to be clear that I am a ''big'' believer in knowing yourself."@@ @@.jessica;"Oh?"@@ Jessica says, tilting her head. @@.player;"And today feels like a chicken day,"@@ you finish, nodding thoughtfully. Jordan squints at you. @@.jordan;"A chicken day."@@ @@.player;"Spicy chicken sandwich, yeah,"@@ you say. Jessica's face lights up immediately. @@.jessica;"Oh, that's a solid choice! Especially if there are pickles. I love pickles."@@ @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's nice to meet someone with good taste."@@ @@.jordan;"It's not bad,"@@ Jordan admits. @@.jordan;"But beef is still better."@@ @@.player;"You've just fallen for the cow propaganda,"@@ you say without missing a beat. Jessica snorts. @@.player;"I'm serious,"@@ you go on. @@.player;"A good chicken sandwich is elite. Crispy outside and juicy inside. Plus, you can make it spicy, and that spice hits hard."@@ Jordan raises an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"You've thought about this."@@ @@.player;"I have, and for good reason,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Chicken sandwiches don't get enough respect, I'm telling you."@@ Jessica nods like she's listening to a TED Talk. @@.jessica;"There's something comforting about them, I think. They're greasy and delicious, but less heavy than beef. Still satisfying."@@ @@.player;"I'm glad you understand,"@@ you say, relieved. @@.player;"I want something that understands me and is willing to torture my tongue a little."@@ @@.jordan;"You're ridiculous,"@@ Jordan says, laughing. @@.player;"You're just mad because you know poultry is better,"@@ you shoot back. @@.jordan;"Look, look, look,"@@ Jordan says, crossing his arms. @@.jordan;"I just think you should commit if you're getting junk food. What's the point in eating lighter? You're already eating processed meat that's being dunked inside dirty oil. Might as well get beef at that point."@@ @@.player;"I, uh, I..."@@ you say. He //does// kind of have a point there. @@.jessica;"Spicy chicken has it's own merits,"@@ Jessica counters. @@.jessica;"Sometimes, chicken tastes better than beef."@@ You grin. @@.player;"See?"@@ Jordan shakes his head. @@.jordan;"Fine. I'll respect your delusions."@@ <<elseif $d22clancyorder is 1>>\ You stare at the glowing menu for another second, like you're weighing something serious. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say finally. @@.player;"I know who I am."@@ @@.jessica;"And who are you?"@@ Jessica asks. You pont decisively. @@.player;"I am a cheeseburger person."@@ @@.jordan;"Correct,"@@ Jordan says, grinning. You glance at him. @@.player;"Correct?"@@ @@.jordan;"I'm saying you're objectively correct,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Beef is the best meat."@@ Jessica snorts. @@.jessica;"Here we go."@@ Jordan's energized now, and wanting to prove himself correct. @@.jordan;"Listen. Chicken is fine. Fish is whatever. But beef? Beef is reliable. It shows up and understands the assignment every time."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I don't think I've ever had a bad cheeseburger before,"@@ you murmur. @@.jessica;"You're really passionate about food, aren't you?"@@ Jessica asks Jordan. @@.jordan;"You are what you eat,"@@ Jordan says simply. You add, very seriously, @@.player;"Borgar would never do me dirty like that."@@ Jessica blinks. @@.jessica;"Did you just say 'borgar'?"@@ @@.player;"Borgar."@@ Jordan loses it a little, laughing under his breath. @@.jordan;"Borgar,"@@ he echoes. @@.jessica;"I should've just gone home,"@@ Jessica says with a pained expression. @@.jessica;"You're both ridiculous."@@ @@.jordan;"And yet, we're happy,"@@ Jordan says. @@.player;"Didn't you also order beef?"@@ you ask. She sighs. @@.jessica;"I know. I'm not denying its power."@@ Jordan points at you. @@.jordan;"See? Deep down, even she understands the truth."@@ <<elseif $d22clancyorder is 2>>\ You stare up at the menu a little longer than you really have to, weighing your options. Then you nod to yourself, step forward, and say clearly, @@.player;"I'll get the fish and chips."@@ There's a long pause. Jordan turns his head slowly while Jessica blinks in confusion. Then they both lose it. Jordan bends over, laughing openly. @@.jordan;"Fish and chips?"@@ @@.jessica;"Oh my God,"@@ Jessica says, wheezing. You cross your arms. @@.player;"What."@@ She wipes at the corner of her eye, still laughing. @@.jessica;"I'm sorry, $name. I just didn't realize we were in London now."@@ Jordan straightens and adds, in the worst accent imaginable, @@.jordan;"Oi, mate. Fancy a bit o' fish after the match, yeah?"@@ @@.player;"Oh no,"@@ you say flatly. @@.player;"You're both dead."@@ @@.jessica;"You want a bo'oh'o'wa'er with that too, guv'nah?"@@ Jessica asks. Jordan points at an imaginary badge on his chest. @@.jordan;"Chap, have you got a loicense for that fish?"@@ They're both laughing so hard they can barely get the words out, and even worse, they're feeding off each other now. @@.jordan;"Next he's gonna ask for mushy peas,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jessica;"Wrapped in newspaper,"@@ Jessica adds. @@.jordan;"Complaining about the weather."@@ @@.jessica;"Talking about how soccer is //actually// called football, stupid Americans."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Fish and chips are objectively good. I don't care if you make fun of me, it's the truth."@@ Jordan finally manages to breathe. @@.jordan;"Fish and Chips at Clancy's?"@@ @@.player;"Yes,"@@ you insist. @@.player;"Have you ever actually tried them."@@ @@.jessica;"No, but I feel ordering fish at an American burger place is a bold choice,"@@ Jessica says. @@.player;"The fish is crispy and salty, plus there are fries,"@@ you say defensively. @@.player;"Don't knock it 'til you try it."@@ <<if $transgender > 19>>\ @@.jordan;"I can't believe we're eating with the Queen of England,"@@ Jordan says, shaking his head. @@.jessica;"She's dead,"@@ Jessica says without missing a beat. @@.jordan;"What a shame,"@@ Jordan replies solemnly. <<else>>\ @@.jordan;"I can't believe we're eating with the King of England,"@@ Jordan says, shaking his head. @@.jessica;"I can't believe he killed his wife,"@@ Jessica says without missing a beat. @@.jordan;"Diana?"@@ Jordan asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"I won't get into it, but there is a ''lot'' of evidence."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"You're both just jealous that my order has class,"@@ you say, pointing between them. @@.jessica;"Yeah, 'cause nothing says class like deep-fried mystery fish,"@@ Jessica replies, snorting. @@.player;"I see how it is,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Fish and chips are genuinely really good, you guys."@@ Jordan smirks, clapping a hand on your shoulder. @@.jordan;"Sure thing, mate."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 36">><</button>>

The booth creaks softly as everyone settles in, the vinyl sticking to your clothes a little as you shift your weight. The noise of the restaurant fills the background, with fryers popping, a soda machine hissing, and someone laughing far too loudly two booths over. Jordan eats like he's genuinely happy to be here, both elbows relaxed on the table. He bites into his burger, then swallows without even chewing. Jessica, on the other hand, keeps glancing around like she's expecting someone from school to walk in and witness her committing the grave sin of enjoying some fast food. Still, she takes another bite anyway. You lean back slightly as you chew. It's kinda nice being here. Watching two people from completely different worlds share the same sticky table. @@.jessica;"So,"@@ Jessica says eventually. She's trying to be casual about it, but you can tell she's got something on her mind. @@.jessica;"I have a question."@@ Jordan doesn't even bother to look up. @@.jordan;"Of course you do."@@ She points a finger at him, then at you. @@.jessica;"Why were you two coming out of the theater side exit together?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"Wow, we're on this topic already."@@ @@.jessica;"Well, I'm curious,"@@ Jessica says, shrugging. Jordan finally looks up, brows knitting faintly. @@.jordan;"It's really not that weird."@@ @@.jessica;"Yes, it is that weird,"@@ Jessica replies. @@.jessica;"You never leave the school with someone."@@ @@.jordan;"That's not true."@@ @@.jessica;"Look, Jordan, I've seen you leave school maybe a hundred times,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Let me tell you, it's the exact same every time. Head down, backpack on, disappear."@@ @@.player;"I mean... she's kinda right,"@@ you say. Jordan exhales through his nose. @@.jordan;"Okay, fine, we had theater together."@@ @@.jessica;"And you walked out together,"@@ she presses. @@.jessica;"Which is new."@@ You open your mouth, ready to answer, when Jordan cuts in smoothly. @@.jordan;"Well, I think there's a far more interesting question,"@@ he says, glancing at her. @@.jordan;"Who the hell were you yelling at on the phone?"@@ Jessica stiffens. @@.player;"Ooh, Jordan strikes back,"@@ you say, chuckling. She scoffs. @@.jessica;"I was not yelling."@@ Jordan gives her a look. @@.jordan;"You were emotionally projecting at a high volume, then."@@ @@.jessica;"I was having a conversation,"@@ she says defensively. @@.player;"With swear words,"@@ you add. She points at you. @@.jessica;"You, $name, are not helping."@@ Jordan leans back, folding his arms. @@.jordan;"I've literally never seen you that rattled, Miss Perfect. You looked like you were about to start kicking your car."@@ @@.jessica;"Now that's an exaggeration."@@ @@.jordan;"You seriously didn't consider it?"@@ @@.jessica;"...Briefly."@@ @@.jordan;"And your ponytail was crooked."@@ She winces. @@.jessica;"Low blow, Brooks."@@ You glance between them in amusement. @@.player;"Well, I personally feel like I walked into a fight between two titans."@@ @@.jessica;"Am I a titan?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.player;"In a good way, yeah,"@@ you say. @@.jessica;"Good,"@@ Jessica says, smiling and regaining some composure. @@.jessica;"But yes, I was stressed, Jordan. Despite how it may seem, I have feelings too."@@ @@.jordan;"It's just weird 'cause you're almost always put together,"@@ he continues, getting more serious now. @@.jordan;"Seeing you like that was unexpected."@@ Jessica opens her mouth to respond, then closes it. Instead, she just takes a sip of her soda, eyes flicking away. @@.jessica;"Anyway,"@@ she says, putting the cup down, @@.jessica;"back to you two."@@ Jordan sighs. @@.jordan;"You're dodging."@@ She smiles innocently. @@.jessica;"I'm prioritizing."@@ They stare at each other, both refusing to give even an inch of ground. It's not tense, exactly, but it's definitely a standoff. Each of them is daring the other to blink. You shift in your seat. @@.player;"I don't know if you guys remember, but I'm still here."@@ Jessica turns to you immediately. @@.jessica;"Exactly. So you get to decide who goes first."@@ @@.jordan;"I can work with that,"@@ Jordan mutters, nodding. @@.jordan;"You go, $name."@@ @@.player;"Wait, hold up,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"Why do I have to choose."@@ @@.jordan;"CHO@@@@.jessica;OSE,"@@ they both say at the same time. @@.player;"Alright, jeez, I'll choose,"@@ you say. <<button "Jordan's up to bat!" "Day 22 - Jordan 1">>\<<set $d22jordanfirst to true>>\<<trackChoice "D22_jordanfirst" "Jordan's up to bat!" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Jessica must yap!" "Day 22 - Jessica 1">>\<<set $d22jordanfirst to false>>\<<trackChoice "D22_jordanfirst" "Jessica must yap!" "rel">><</button>>

The table looks like the scene of a battle. Wrappers are folded into uneven stacks. Fry cartons lie tipped on their side, a few cold stragglers abandoned. Cups are mostly empty. The smell of grease clings to everything, including the air itself. And somehow, Jordan is wiping his hands on a napkin and leaning back like he hasn't just demolished a meal meant to feed a small family. Jessica stares at his tray, then at him, then back at the tray. @@.jessica;"You ate all of that,"@@ she says slowly. Jordan glances down, then shrugs. @@.jordan;"Guess I did."@@ @@.jessica;"All of it,"@@ she repeats, incredulous. @@.jessica;"The burger, the fries, the shake, even the nuggets."@@ @@.jordan;"Uh, yeah,"@@ Jordan says, confused. @@.jordan;"I literally told you I was going to eat it all."@@ You laugh, leaning back as well. @@.player;"Honestly? I thought you were going to tap out halfway through."@@ @@.jordan;"I would never,"@@ he says solemnly. @@.jordan;"Clancy's doesn't forgive weakness, and I wouldn't be able to forgive myself either."@@ Jessica shakes her head as she laughs. @@.jessica;"I ''really'' don't understand how your body functions."@@ @@.player;"It truly is a great mystery,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Science refuses to study it."@@ @@.jordan;"Years of training is the answer,"@@ Jordan says, grinning. She gestures at her own tray. @@.jessica;"I feel like I should apologize to my stomach just for witnessing that massacre."@@ @@.player;"Didn't you order a cheeseburger and small soda after announcing a feast?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"Hey!"@@ she says defensively. @@.jessica;"I enjoyed it, and that's the important part."@@ The banter flows easily now. Jordan's relaxed with an arm stretched along the booth. Jessica's ponytail has slipped even lower, but she doesn't seem to care anymore. She even cackles at one point at a funny joke, though she stops herself and coughs awkwardly. You find yourself smiling without thinking about it. You all talk about nothing for a while. About how Clancy's fries taste better when you don't think about them too hard. How the floor here is always sticky no matter how many times it's mopped. How the soda machine never gives you the right ratio of water to syrup. At some point, the conversation slows. You lean back further, sinking into your seat, feeling the weight of the meal settle in. Your limbs feel heavier and comfortable. @@.player;"...I'm about to enter a food coma,"@@ you announce. @@.jordan;"Already?"@@ Jordan asks, snorting. @@.player;"I can feel it setting in,"@@ you say. @@.player;"My brain's shutting down. My body's failing me."@@ Jessica nods seriously. @@.jessica;"That's the Clancy's effect."@@ @@.jordan;"We should probably get going before we fuse to the booth, yeah,"@@ Jordan says, rolling his shoulders back. You glance at the empty trays. @@.player;"I don't think we're ever leaving this place the same."@@ Jessica stands first, grabbing the trays with ease. @@.jessica;"Come on. Before we make bad decisions and order dessert."@@ @@.jordan;"Don't even tempt me,"@@ Jordan groans. You slide out of the booth, legs stiff but steady. The three of you feel closer than you were an hour ago. Jessica reaches for her keys while Jordan adjusts his bag. You take one last look at the absolute wreckage of a meal you created. @@.jessica;"Alright,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Let's go."@@ And together, you leave Clancy's behind. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 38">><</button>>

The door swings open and the late afternoon air rushes in. It's cool and reeks slightly less of grease than Clancy's. The neon glow of the signs flickers behind you as you step out onto the parking lot, the sounds of the restaurant muffling as the door closes again. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ Jessica says, stretching her arms over her head with a small groan. @@.jessica;"That was good, but I need a minute."@@ @@.jordan;"Same,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"I need, like... a reset."@@ You glance between them. @@.player;"From the food or from the emotional bonding?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yes,"@@ Jordan says without hesitation. Jessica laughs, already pulling her phone out of her pockets. @@.jessica;"I need to check my socials before people start thinking I fell off the face of the earth."@@ Jordan snorts. @@.jordan;"Tragic."@@ @@.jessica;"Some of us have an image to maintain, y'know,"@@ Jessica says, shooting him a look. @@.jordan;"Some of us just exist,"@@ he replies easily They drift apart naturally. Jessica wanders a few steps toward the edge of the lot, leaning against a low concrete barrier as she scrolls through her phone, thumbs flying at light speed, expression calm. The glow of the screen lights her face as she types, pauses, deletes, types again. Jordan heads the other way, stopping near the curb. He tips his head back slightly and takes a slow breath, hands tucked into his varsity jacket pockets. He looks relaxed in a way you don't usually see. He just lets the air cool him down, gaze unfocused as cars pass by on the road. They're not far apart. Close enough that if one of them laughed or said your name, the other would hear it. You stand between them for a moment and see Jessica glancing up from her phone briefly, catching your eye before looking down again. Jordan shifts his weight, glancing in your direction, then back at the street, like he's giving you space but wouldn't mind some company. It's your move. <<button "Go talk to Jessica" "Day 22 - 39">>\<<set $d22clancyjordan to false>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyjordan" "Go talk to Jessica" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Go talk to Jordan" "Day 22 - 39">>\<<set $d22clancyjordan to true>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyjordan" "Go talk to Jordan" "rel">><</button>>

<<if $d22clancyjordan is true>>\ You walk over to Jordan at an easy pace, hands shoved into your pockets, the evening air cool enough to feel good after the warmth of the restaurant. He doesn't turn right away. He's leaning on a pole with his shoulders loose, eyes fixed on the road like he's watching something more than traffic. For a few seconds, you let the quiet sit. @@.player;"You've been staring at the road like it's about to reveal the meaning of life,"@@ you say eventually. @@.player;"Or confess to a crime."@@ Jordan lets out a low breath that turns into a quiet laugh. @@.jordan;"Just thinking."@@ You angle your body so you're leaning near him, not crowding, just close enough to make it obvious you chose to come over. @@.player;"You do that a lot."@@ @@.jordan;"Thinking?"@@ he asks. @@.player;"Staring into the middle distance like you're on a smoke break,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"You've got the whole vibe down. Hands in pocket, distant gaze, mysterious aura. You might be competing with Aurora for most unapproachable person at Pacific Crest High."@@ He snorts. @@.jordan;"C'mon, I don't smoke."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That's what makes it funny. You look like someone who should have a cigarette, but you're just... vibing."@@ He shifts his weight, glancing at you now, amused. @@.jordan;"I just like standing outside. Breathing. It helps me reset."@@ @@.player;"That makes sense,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Still. You ever thought about actually smoking?"@@ His expression tightens for a fraction of a second. @@.jordan;"I've tried it."@@ @@.player;"You have."@@ @@.jordan;"Once,"@@ he says quickly. @@.jordan;"Didn't like it."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Once is all it took?"@@ @@.jordan;"God, it was awful,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Burned. Tasted bad. I spent the rest of the day wondering how anyone goes through a whole pack of them a day."@@ @@.player;"So you didn't have, like, a cinematic moment?"@@ you tease. @@.player;"Standing under a streetlight, exhaling dramatically?"@@ @@.jordan;"Absolutely not,"@@ he replies dryly. @@.jordan;"I coughed, felt stupid, and threw it away."@@ You laugh softly. @@.player;"That's on brand, I guess."@@ He smiles a little, the corner of his mouth lifting. @@.jordan;"Yeah. Unfortunately."@@ A car passes, headlights briefly washing over the two of you. When it's gone, the quiet settles back in. @@.player;"You were different today,"@@ you say after a moment. @@.player;"Not just with me, with Jessica too."@@ Jordan doesn't pretend not to know what you mean. @@.jordan;"Yeah, I was."@@ @@.player;"You opened up,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Like, actually opened up. That's not something you usually do."@@ He exhales slowly. @@.jordan;"I know. Rare, huh?"@@ @@.player;"Very much so,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"Was it hard?"@@ @@.jordan;"It was, yeah,"@@ he admits. @@.jordan;"Then it wasn't anymore. Then it was again."@@ You nod. @@.player;"That tracks."@@ He looks back at the road again, but this time it feels less distant. @@.jordan;"Talking to Jessica helped. More than I thought it would."@@ @@.player;"Really?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"She's not what I expected. Not at all. I thought I had her all figured out before I ever even gave her a chance."@@ You hum thoughtfully. @@.player;"You kinda do that to everyone, though."@@ He gives you a playful glare. @@.jordan;"Yeah, I guess I do."@@ He shifts again, hands still in his pockets. @@.jordan;"I realized something today. I've been holding myself back from a lot of things. People, moments, experiences. Just because I decided ahead of time how they'd end."@@ @@.player;"That sounds exhausting,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"It is,"@@ he agrees. @@.jordan;"I tell myself I'm protecting my energy, protecting my feelings. But really, I'm just hiding."@@ @@.player;"You didn't seem like you were hiding today, though,"@@ you say gently, watching him. He meets your gaze. @@.jordan;"No. I didn't."@@ For a moment, neither of you looks away. The air between you feels softer than before. @@.jordan;"I don't really know what I'll do from here,"@@ he says finally, coughing awkwardly and looking away. @@.player;"You don't //have// to know."@@ @@.jordan;"Well, I'm glad I came here today,"@@ Jordan says, letting out a shaky breath. The moment stretches, waiting on you. <<button "Hey, figuring things out is kind of the whole deal, right?" "Day 22 - 40">>\<<set $d22clancyconvo to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyconvo" "Hey, figuring things out is kind of the whole deal, right?" "story">><</button>> <<button "Congrats on unlocking basic human empathy, I guess" "Day 22 - 40">>\<<set $d22clancyconvo to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyconvo" "Congrats on unlocking basic human empathy, I guess" "story">><</button>> <<button "So basically, today was your character development episode" "Day 22 - 40">>\<<set $d22clancyconvo to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyconvo" "So basically, today was your character development episode" "story">><</button>> <<button "For what it's worth, I really like this version of you" "Day 22 - 40">>\<<set $d22clancyconvo to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyconvo" "For what it's worth, I really like this version of you" "story">><</button>> <<elseif $d22clancyjordan is false>>\ You wander over to where Jessica's leaning against the low concrete barrier, phone in hand. The glow from the screen lights her face in soft blues and whites as her thumbs move quickly. She looks up when you stop beside her. @@.jessica;"Oh, hey, $name,"@@ she says easily, like she wasn't just mentally in another universe. @@.jessica;"Gimme half a second."@@ You nod, watching as she flicks through notifications with alarming speed. Instagram opens. Then closes. Then opens again. Stories slide past the screen in rapid succession. @@.player;"You're checking everything,"@@ you say. She laughs quietly. @@.jessica;"I kind of have to."@@ @@.player;"How many followers do you have again?"@@ you ask, tilting your head. She shrugs like it's no big deal. @@.jessica;"Uh. On my main? Just over thirty thousand. My finsta only has a couple hundred though."@@ You choke a little. @@.player;"//Just//."@@ She grins. @@.jessica;"Okay, yeah, that sounded bad."@@ @@.player;"That's almost the entire population of Crestview Bay,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'd panic immediately."@@ Jessica shrugs again, still scrolling. @@.jessica;"You get used to it. Plus, a lot of them are just random people I've talked to once."@@ She flicks to another app. @@.jessica;"Some parents, too. Which is weird."@@ She pauses as her phone buzzes again. @@.jessica;"Hold on,"@@ she says, already typing. Reply sent, heart emoji added, app closed. Then she looks back at you and continues exactly where she left off. @@.jessica;"Anyway, if I don't keep up, people notice. Someone will DM like, 'Did you see my story?' or 'Why didn't you repost?' or 'Do you hate me?'"@@ You blink. @@.player;"That sounds terrifying."@@ @@.jessica;"A little,"@@ she says, laughing. You glance at her phone. @@.player;"Do you really need to watch everyone's stories?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yes,"@@ she says immediately. @@.jessica;"If I miss one, they think I'm mad at them."@@ @@.player;"Sounds like a lot of social math."@@ @@.jessica;"I know,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"It's like a full-time job I didn't apply for."@@ She scrolls again, pauses, then locks her phone and slips it into her pocket. For once, she actually looks at you fully. @@.jessica;"It can be exhausting,"@@ she admits. @@.jessica;"Like, mentally. You're always 'on.' Always visible, always performing, even when you're just lying in bed."@@ @@.player;"That //does// sound rough,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.jessica;"But,"@@ she adds quickly, smiling, @@.jessica;"I still like it."@@ @@.player;"Really?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"I like connecting with people and hyping my friends up. I like being seen. Even if I sometimes don't know where me ends and the account starts."@@ She bumps her shoulder lightly against yours. @@.jessica;"Plus, I get free smoothies sometimes."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Okay, I can see how that helps."@@ She glances back toward the parking lot, then at you again. @@.jessica;"So. What do you think of my social media life?"@@ <<button "It sounds like a lot, but I think you handle it well" "Day 22 - 40">>\<<set $d22clancyconvo to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyconvo" "It sounds like a lot, but I think you handle it well" "story">><</button>> <<button "It looks like a waste of time" "Day 22 - 40">>\<<set $d22clancyconvo to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyconvo" "It looks like a waste of time" "story">><</button>> <<button "I wouldn't last five minutes on Instagram" "Day 22 - 40">>\<<set $d22clancyconvo to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyconvo" "I wouldn't last five minutes on Instagram" "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't mind any opportunity to see more of you" "Day 22 - 40">>\<<set $d22clancyconvo to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D22_clancyconvo" "I don't mind any opportunity to see more of you" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $heritage is 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "D22Korean">>\ You sit there for a while, staring at the untouched sheet of poster paper. The edges are perfectly square and the surface blindingly white. That somehow makes it worse. It's the kind of blankness that expects you to know exactly who you are. The issue is, right now, you're not sure what to say. Jessica's beside you, her own poster half-finished with the German and Norwegian flags. @@.jessica;"You haven't started yet?"@@ she asks, leaning a little toward your desk. You shake your head, still spinning a capped marker between your fingers. @@.player;"Not yet. I was thinking of doing something mixed. Korean and American, I guess. But... I don't know. I feel like I'd just end up doing both badly."@@ @@.jessica;"That's fair,"@@ Jessica comments, nodding thoughtfully. @@.jessica;"So what do you want to do?"@@ @@.player;"Honestly?"@@ you say, taking a deep breath. @@.player;"I think I'll just go all Korean."@@ Jessica's eyebrows lift a little, curious but approving. @@.jessica;"Yeah?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah. I mean, that's still where everything started. My grandparents came from Seoul. My mom still makes me drink hanyak every time I get a cold. She ''swears'' the traditional herbal medicine works. I don't think it does, though. We also have to drive to that one Korean market across town because she swears the cabbage there is better for kimchi and the rice is stickier. It's just... kind of a part of everything."@@ @@.jessica;"Then make it yours,"@@ Jessica says, smiling. You uncap a red marker and start with the Korean flag. You make the red swirl into the blue. You have to pull out your phone to remember what the trigrams look like, realizing along the way that the blue is meant to be on the bottom. Once the flag is done, messy and flipped, you lean back for a moment and think. What else should you add? You draw a small rectangular building next to it. It's a sketch of your grandparent's house, or at least the version of it that lives in your memory. The roof is slightly curved, the windows small and framed. It smells like sesame oil and paper walls. There's a fan that's always humming except at night. Your grandma swears people have died because of the fan //somehow// using up oxygen. @@.jessica;"Who's home is that?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.player;"My grandparents' house,"@@ you say. @@.player;"They still have a kimchi fridge in the garage. I don't know how that thing's even running. It was one of their first purchases in America."@@ @@.jessica;"That's commitment, $name."@@ You laugh quietly. @@.player;"Yeah. They'd probably get rid of me before that thing."@@ You reach for a brown marker and add another detail. A steaming bowl of rice with soy sauce. Your grandmother always made that for you even if you were already full. Then you add side dishes, quick little ovals with kimchi, rolled egg, dried anchovies, and spinach. You shade them in, messy but alive. Next to that, you write your name in Korean. That's about the only thing you know how to spell in hangul. Your mom, once she realized you weren't going to be fluent, at least made you memorize your name. ''윤세진'' The spacing's uneven, one character slightly taller than the others, and the strokes are a bit too jagged. You stare at it for a moment, tilting your head. It's been a while since you last wrote it out, and the hesitation shows. @@.jessica;"Ooh, what's that?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.player;"My Korean name,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Yoon Sejin."@@ She squints at it. @@.jessica;"It's pretty, but... is it supposed to look like that?"@@ You blink, then laugh. @@.player;"Why do you say that?"@@ @@.jessica;"No, it's just... kind of like a little kid wrote it."@@ She looks up quickly, worried she might've said something wrong. @@.jessica;"Not in a bad way, of course! It's just, I don't even speak Korean and I can tell it's... cute?"@@ That makes you laugh even harder, the sound echoing off your desk. @@.player;"Yeah, that tracks. I only know how to write my name, and even then, I probably got something wrong."@@ @@.jessica;"I mean, it //is// kind of charming,"@@ Jessica says with a grin. @@.jessica;"Gives the poster personality."@@ @@.player;"'Personality,' huh?"@@ you say, still chuckling as you look at the uneven Korean again. @@.player;"My mom would make me practice when I was little. It was either that or piano lessons."@@ @@.jessica;"What did you end up picking?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.player;"I picked quitting both,"@@ you admit. She laughs. You add a few more things. A sketch of a bottle of Pocari Sweat that you get from Korean markets, a cartoonish packet of ramen, and an eraser shaped like a panda that your mom once brought home from Koreatown. You even (poorly) draw BTS. You're not a die-hard fan or anything, but you //did// grow up hearing their songs. It's impossible to separate them from what being Korean means to your generation. Jessica tilts her head. @@.jessica;"Is that BTS?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, half-smiling. @@.player;"Had to include it, really. I'd lose my Korean card if I didn't."@@ @@.jessica;"Fair,"@@ she says, laughing. @@.jessica;"Oh, you know what you should throw in? KBBQ. That is sooo good."@@ You do, sketching a little grill, a few strips of bulgogi, and a pair of tongs. Beside it, you draw a bottle of soju, though you put a warning sign with 21+ just to be safe from Ms. Carter's rage. Then you add a steaming bowl of tteokguk, rice cake soup. That one means something. The memory of Lunar New Year mornings and your mom insisting you're officially a year older after the first bite. @@.jessica;"That looks amazing,"@@ Jessica says quietly. @@.jessica;"It's like you poured your life on paper."@@ @@.player;"It's just stuff I remember,"@@ you say, a little embarrassed. @@.jessica;"Yeah, but it comes from your heart. It's not just Wikipedia."@@ You laugh softly and keep going. You draw a cup of citron tea, the one your mom makes when you're sick. You draw a bag of honey butter chips, the kind you'd beg your parents to buy at the local Asian market even though they were super expensive. You draw your grandparent's car, the trunk open with bags of rice inside. When you finally put the marker down, the paper isn't so clean anymore. It's busy and crowded and colorful. You realize that you've filled every inch of the poster, each little detail adding up to something whole. @@.jessica;"That's really good, $name,"@@ Jessica says. @@.player;"You think so?"@@ @@.jessica;"I do. You can tell it means something."@@ You look down at it again. This isn't the Korea from textbooks or travel guides, or even the one that people born and raised in the country know. But it's your Korea. The one built from your grandparents' stories, your mom's cooking, and the faint hum of a language you can still kinda understand. <<elseif $heritage is 1>>\ <<grantAchievement "D22KoreanAmerican">>\ You sit with your elbow against the desk, chin in hand, staring down at the poster. The white paper is too clean, too big, and too heavy for something that's meant to be simple. Around you, the classroom buzzes with quiet motion. Pencil scratches, markers squeaking, whispering, even a few jokes being traded. Jessica's already halfway through her own project. The German and Norwegian flags are tucked in a corner, shaded with marker. She hums under her breath, relaxed and confident in what she's doing. Every now and then, she glances at you. @@.jessica;"Still thinking?"@@ You nod, not looking up. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ @@.jessica;"Too many ideas or not enough?"@@ @@.player;"Both."@@ You turn the marker slowly between your fingers. @@.player;"If I pick Korean, it feels like I'm leaving something out. If I pick American, it feels like I'm pretending."@@ She pauses for a second. @@.jessica;"So do both."@@ @@.player;"Both?"@@ @@.jessica;"You're both, right?"@@ Jessica asks, shrugging casually. @@.jessica;"Maybe that's the whole point of all this."@@ You don't respond right away, but her words stick. You look back at the blank paper, at the space that's supposed to represent who you are. Maybe she's right. Maybe that //is// the truth. That you're not split between two worlds, but rather just grew up standing on the bridge between them. You draw your first line. The red marker squeaks faintly as you curve it across the page. You follow it with blue, the lines blending into each other. You don't particularly care about symmetry, that's not really what you want to show with this piece. You want it to look lived in. You draw the Korean taegeuk in the center, the swirl slightly tilted. You add the stars next, white against the blue marker. The two symbols fade into the other until they share the same space. @@.jessica;"That looks really cool,"@@ Jessica comments. @@.jessica;"Kinda poetic."@@ @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you murmur. You keep going. The next images come slower, but more deliberate. A dented rice cooker that still managed to make the best rice you've ever tasted. Then a can of Coca-Cola. You add a small table beneath them: metal chopsticks on one side and a fork on the other. It's messy, but you like it that way. You draw your grandparents next. Your grandmother standing over a pot of bubbling stew, ladle in hand. Your grandfather in his old recliner, remote in hand, face soft and calm. He always yelled at the Korean national team. You couldn't quite understand the words, but you could tell he was angry with one of the players. Your throat feels tight. You sketch the shape of their house beside them. It's small, the only thing they could afford when they first made their way across the Pacific. It has a tilted roof and a gate that creaked every damn time you opened it. You can nearly hear the sound. You remember sitting there as a kid, too young to understand why it was so different from everyone else's home. How the air always smelled faintly of sesame oil and old paper. You move on, drawing a street corner. The Koreatown in LA that you've been to several times. Neon signs with English and Korean. The old people who didn't speak a word of English yet still managed to thrive in the United States. You used to walk by places like that with your mom, getting confused when someone started to talk to you in Korean. Your mom, on the other hand, would always switch languages without warning. She even mixed them together sometimes, creating some weird hybrid language. Somehow, everyone managed to understand without a problem. The next image you draw is a bowl of soup, clear broth with rice cakes and dumplings floating inside. Tteokguk. You draw the steam curling up from it. Your mom used to swear the first bite would mean you were officially a year older. You remember the taste, the warmth, and the way she'd smile every Lunar New Year and say it again like a spell. Then, beside it, you draw something small and ordinary yet full of meaning. A bottle of NyQuil and a tiny, dark brown jar of hanyak. The bitter herbal medicine your mom still forces on you when you're sick. You smile a little as you draw it, remembering the taste. She'd say it was good for you even while you were gagging. The marker strokes start to feel steadier now, your hesitation fading. You decide to add snacks. Bags of honey butter chips next to hot chips. Bibimbap next to a cheesesteak. The cultures you're a part of. You finish off by writing your name in Korean. That's about the only thing you know how to spell in hangul. Your mom, once she realized you weren't going to be fluent, at least made you memorize your name. ''윤세진'' The spacing's uneven, one character slightly taller than the others, and the strokes are a bit too jagged. You stare at it for a moment, tilting your head. It's been a while since you last wrote it out, and the hesitation shows. @@.jessica;"Ooh, what's that?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.player;"My Korean name,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Yoon Sejin."@@ @@.jessica;"It's cute,"@@ she says, then squints a little. @@.jessica;"Kind of wobbly though."@@ You laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"That's generous. I only know how to spell my name, and even that looks like a five-year-old did it."@@ @@.jessica;"You tried,"@@ she says simply. You start shading in the background. Blue bleeding into red, red fading into white. Cherry blossoms and red maple leaves. It's a complete patchwork of memories and symbols that don't match, yet still belong. When you were a kid, people sometimes asked where you were from. When you said California or Crestview Bay, they'd ask again. You think of the way you murmured out @@.player;"Korean."@@ With so much hesitation and doubt in your voice, like it was a costume you weren't sure you were allowed to wear. You used to be ashamed, but not anymore. You draw the last thing quietly, a bridge stretching across the middle of the page. On one side, an outline of Seoul's urban skyline. The Lotte World Tower, boxy apartments that stretch into the sky, and the Han River cutting through. On the other, a California coast with palm trees, low roofs, and sunlight. You connect them with one long line. @@.jessica;"That's... really good,"@@ Jessica says, tone softly. @@.jessica;"It looks like you're telling a story."@@ @@.player;"I guess it does,"@@ you say, still staring at the page. At the end of the day, this is you. And the white space isn't so empty anymore. It's home. <<elseif $heritage is 2>>\ <<grantAchievement "D22American">>\ You stare at the blank sheet in front of you. It is blindingly white and scarily empty. @@.jessica;"So,"@@ Jessica says, @@.jessica;"you figured out what you're doing yet?"@@ You exhale through your nose, tapping your marker against the desk. @@.player;"Not really, no."@@ @@.jessica;"Still torn between both?"@@ @@.player;"I guess I just don't really //feel// Korean,"@@ you say, staring at the untouched page. @@.player;"I was born here. My parents were born here. We don't even speak Korean at home. It's like, I know where I came from, but it's not really what my life looks like now."@@ Jessica hums, thoughtful. @@.jessica;"Go with what feels like //you//, $name."@@ @@.player;"What feels like me?"@@ you ask, looking at her. @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ she says simply. @@.jessica;"Not what your ancestors would make or what the school expects. Just... you."@@ You sit there for a while. Her words hit harder than you expected them too. The idea sounds simple, but something about it clicks. You glance at the clean sheet again and realize what's been bothering you. You've been trying to make a poster that explains heritage, but maybe what you actually want to explain is home. You reach for the red marker first. The first line you draw is a bold stripe across the top. Then another beneath it, and another. Red and white. You pause for a second, then grab a blue marker and start sketching a rectangle in the corner. A few rough stars come after. They're rough, uneven, and you definitely didn't get the right amount. But you keep going anyway. Jessica glances over mid-stroke and tilts her head. @@.jessica;"Ooh, how patriotic."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I think so,"@@ you say, smiling faintly. @@.player;"I mean, I am ethnically Korean, yeah, but I've lived here my whole life. It's just... who I am at this point, you know?"@@ @@.jessica;"Makes sense,"@@ Jessica says, nodding. @@.jessica;"Honestly, that's what it's //supposed// to be about, right? Your culture doesn't have to be where your family came from, it's where you are right now."@@ @@.player;"Exactly."@@ Once the flag is done, you start adding more. Little symbols that feel familiar. A baseball, sketched quickly in the margin. A slice of pizza next to it. A soda can. A doodle of the Golden Gate Bridge and Statue of Liberty. You add a bald eagle with wings that look a little too big, and the words //Land of the Free// written across the bottom in blocky letters that don't quite line up. Each drawing comes faster and easier as the page fills with color. You draw a little campfire to remind yourself of the summer trips your family used to take in California's national parks. A firework for the Fourth of July. A pair of sneakers and jeans. A burger. A football. The things that, when you think about it, really //are// the world you grew up in. Jessica leans over slightly and inspects your poster. @@.jessica;"That's actually really good,"@@ she says. You shrug, smiling a little. @@.player;"It's something."@@ @@.jessica;"I mean it,"@@ she says, brushing eraser crumbs from her paper. @@.jessica;"You can, like, tell it means something. Not like a forced assignment, you know?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"It does feel special."@@ There's a strange sense of satisfaction in how messy it's becoming. You add little captions beside things like "home," "freedom," "late-night dinner," "jazz," and "family." It's a collage of fragments, a hundred tiny snapshots of what America means to you. Not as a flag or a slogan, but as the background of your life. You shade the sky behind the flag into a bright blue. You draw the ocean, thinking about family beach trips to Long Beach. The smell of sunscreen, the feeling of sand between your toes, the taste of crab with ''way'' too much butter. You draw a skyline that's kind of like San Francisco and Los Angeles and Crestview Bay mixed together. You even scribble a small takeout coffee cup next to it. You put an incorrectly spelled name on the sleeve, because of course it wouldn't be spelled properly. Jessica's quiet now, clearly busy on her own poster. Yet, it seems she can't resist the temptation of occasionally sneaking glances at yours. @@.jessica;"I think you really nailed the point of all this, $name."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.jessica;"Stuff like this. Cultural week, heritage projects, whatever. It's not really about the countries or the flags. It's about what //you// took from it. What sticks."@@ You nod. She is right, isn't she? This isn't about choosing between Korea or America. Maybe it's just about where you ended up and who you became along the way. When you finally lean back from the poster, your hand aches slightly from gripping the markers so long. The paper is crowded now, covered in doodles. It's chaos, for sure, but it somehow fits together. You look at it and feel something quiet and certain settle in your chest. It's not a heritage display or a statement. It's just you. $name Yoon. A third-generation kid who grew up between two worlds and realized, somewhere along the way, that this one feels like home. @@.jessica;"Yup,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"That's definitely the $name I know."@@ You smile faintly. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, capping the marker. @@.player;"I think it is."@@ You look down at the finished poster and it's bright, messy, and alive. The page doesn't feel empty anymore. <</if>>\ <div class="note"> <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ 생각보다 한국인들 많네... 읽고 있다면, 저도 한국인입니다 ㅋㅋㅋ 곧 미국으로 이사갑니다 ㅠㅠ 경기도 진짜 그립겠다 패트리온이랑 디스코드에 한국인이 생각보다 많아서 인사 남깁니다 한국인들 화이팅! </div>\ <<button "See Jessica's poster" "Day 22 - 5">><</button>>

<<if $d22clancyjordan is true>>\ <<if $d22clancyconvo is 0>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You tilt your head slightly, offering him an easy smile. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, @@.player;"figuring things out is kind of the whole deal, right?"@@ Jordan lets out a quiet breath, the tension in his shoulders easing. A small smile appears on his face. @@.jordan;"...Yeah,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I guess it is."@@ He exhales slowly. @@.jordan;"I've spent so much time acting like I already had everything figured out. Or like I didn't //need// to. Turns out that was mostly just me trying not to think too hard about it."@@ You lean back against another pole, mirroring Jordan. @@.player;"That sounds exhausting."@@ @@.jordan;"It is,"@@ he admits. He glances back toward the restaurant, then toward the road again. @@.jordan;"But today felt different. Like I didn't have to pretend anymore."@@ @@.player;"Well, yeah, that's probably because you weren't,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You were just you."@@ @@.jordan;"I don't even know who //I// am half the time,"@@ he says, huffing a quiet laugh. @@.player;"That's okay,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"I don't think anyone actually does. Anyone who says they do is lying or selling something."@@ Jordan laughs again, louder this time, shoulders shaking slightly. @@.jordan;"Yeah. That checks out. I think opening up just scares me because once people know the real stuff, I can't control how they see me anymore."@@ @@.player;"Hmm, I can see that,"@@ you say carefully. @@.player;"But it also means you don't have to keep proving something all the time."@@ He considers that, then nods slowly. @@.jordan;"That sounds nice."@@ There's a short pause before Jordan glances at you again, smile softer now. @@.jordan;"I'm glad you're around, you know. You make everything feel... easier."@@ You smile. @@.player;"I'll take that as a compliment."@@ @@.jordan;"Oh, it is,"@@ he says, chuckling. @@.jordan;"Matter of fact, it's a massive compliment."@@ A car drives past, some crazy music thumping through the open windows. Somewhere behind you, the door to Clancy's opens, letting out a burst of noise. Jordan pushes off the curb and straightens. @@.jordan;"I don't really know what'll happen next,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"With my family, with football, with the Romeo and Juliet auditions, with everything. But today helped."@@ @@.player;"See?"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"That's growth."@@ He groans. @@.jordan;"Don't ruin it, $name."@@ You laugh, and he laughs too. There's no expectations or pressure here, just two friends standing outside a fast-food place, figuring things out one step at a time and enjoying it. <<elseif $d22clancyconvo is 1>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance - 10, 0, 100)>>\ You let the moment hang for half a second too long, nerves buzzing in your chest, and then the words come out wrong. @@.player;"Congrats on unlocking basic human empathy, I guess."@@ The sentence lands hard, and not in a good way. At first, Jordan doesn't react at all. He just stares at the road, expression frozen in place. It's as if he didn't quite hear you, or maybe he did, and his brain is still catching up. Then his jaw tightens. He turns his head slowly, finally looking at you. Whatever warmth was there a moment ago is gone, replaced by something sharp. @@.jordan;"...What?"@@ he says quietly. You immediately feel the shift in the air, the way the moment snaps instead of bending. You open your mouth to soften it or explain it was a joke or that you didn't mean it or //something//— But Jordan speaks first. @@.jordan;"That's not funny,"@@ he says. His voice isn't raised, but that somehow makes it worse. You swallow. @@.player;"I didn't mean it like—"@@ @@.jordan;"No,"@@ he cuts in, shaking his head once. @@.jordan;"I know exactly how you meant it."@@ He looks away again, eyes fixed on the street. His shoulders have gone rigid, and the relaxed posture from just a minute earlier is completely gone. @@.jordan;"You think I don't know how messed up I am?"@@ he continues, voice low. @@.jordan;"You think I don't already beat myself up for this shit?"@@ You feel your chest sink. @@.player;"Jordan, I was just—"@@ @@.jordan;"You were joking,"@@ he finishes for you. @@.jordan;"Yeah. I get it. Reeeal funny."@@ A car passes, loud and rumbling. @@.jordan;"I just spent the last hour doing something I almost never do,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I talked. I was honest. I let someone see things I usually keep locked down. And you turned it into a punchline."@@ @@.player;"That's not what I wanted,"@@ you murmur. @@.jordan;"But it's what you did,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Next time, if someone's trusting you with someone like that, maybe don't treat it like a joke."@@ You try to respond, but nothing you can say feels like it would make things better. Jordan straightens, steps away from the curb, and moves down to the sidewalk. You're left standing there, the evening air suddenly colder. <<elseif $d22clancyconvo is 2>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"So basically,"@@ you start, grinning, @@.player;"today was your character development episode."@@ Jordan blinks, then laughs. @@.jordan;"Wow,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Bit harsh, no?"@@ @@.player;"You can't deny it,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"Opened up emotionally. Confronted internal conflict. Unexpected bonding with a recurring side character. Textbook mid-season growth."@@ Jordan shakes his head, still smiling. @@.jordan;"So what, this is the part where the audience starts rooting for me?"@@ @@.player;"Oh, absolutely,"@@ you say. @@.player;"This is when the fan edits start."@@ He snorts. @@.jordan;"Great. Can't wait to see the sad piano music montage."@@ @@.player;"Oh, it already exists,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Slow-motion football shots. You staring out of windows. A single tear rolling down your cheek that may or may not be rain."@@ @@.jordan;"Oh my God,"@@ Jordan says, laughing harder this time. @@.jordan;"You are making my life sound ''way'' more dramatic than it actually is."@@ @@.player;"Jordan,"@@ you say gently, @@.player;"your dad is a tragic fallen athlete living vicariously through his sons. You secretly love theater. You brood and take fake smoke breaks. The writers didn't even try to be subtle."@@ He groans. @@.jordan;"I hate that you're right."@@ @@.player;"And today, you finally talked about your trauma //and// learned not to judge people based on first impressions,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"That's growth right there."@@ @@.jordan;"So what's gonna happen next episode?"@@ he asks, amused now. @@.player;"The Romeo and Juliet audition,"@@ you reply thoughtfully. @@.player;"Or maybe an argument with your dad."@@ He nods along. @@.jordan;"That sounds about right."@@ @@.player;"It'll end on a cliffhanger,"@@ you add. @@.player;"Cue credits."@@ @@.jordan;"So, what are you?"@@ he asks, eyes bright with amusement. @@.jordan;"Comic relief?"@@ @@.player;"Hmm, no,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm the protagonist. You're just a side character."@@ @@.jordan;"Bold of you to assume you're the protagonist,"@@ Jordan says, snorting. @@.player;"You know I am,"@@ you say. For a moment, you're both just standing there laughing quietly. @@.jordan;"Okay, you know what, I'll admit it,"@@ Jordan says, still smiling. @@.jordan;"If I were a character in a show, today definitely wouldn't have been a filler episode."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Exactly."@@ <<elseif $d22clancyconvo is 3>>\ <<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate just a second, then decide you don't want to overthink it. @@.player;"For what it's worth,"@@ you say, voice quieter but steady, @@.player;"I really like this version of you."@@ Jordan goes still, like he's been caught. Like your words landed somewhere he wasn't expecting. He turns his head toward you fully now, eyebrows lifting just a little. @@.jordan;"...Yeah?"@@ he says. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you repeat. @@.player;"You seem lighter. Like you're not carrying the whole world on your shoulders for once."@@ @@.jordan;"That's dangerous information to give me,"@@ he says, chuckling. You grin. @@.player;"Why?"@@ @@.jordan;"Because I might start doing it more often,"@@ he replies, a little shy, a little amused. @@.jordan;"And then I'll have expectations to live up to."@@ @@.player;"God forbid,"@@ you say, laughing. He laughs softly at that, then glances away again, rubbing the back of his neck. When he looks back at you, there's something pleased in his expression. @@.jordan;"I like this version of me too, $name,"@@ he admits. @@.jordan;"Mostly because you're standing here talking to him."@@ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, chest tightening in a good way. @@.player;"That was smooth."@@ He scoffs. @@.jordan;"No it wasn't."@@ @@.player;"It absolutely was."@@ He shakes his head, smiling now. @@.jordan;"You're trouble, you know that?"@@ @@.player;"So I've been told,"@@ you say back. @@.player;"Usually by people who end up liking me anyway."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. @@.jordan;"That tracks."@@ There's a pause, and Jordan uses it to shift closer to you. Not touching you, but close enough that it feels intentional. <<if $jessicaRomance > 19>>\ <<grantAchievement "D22JessicaJealous">>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ A few steps away, Jessica glances up from her phone. She hadn't meant to look. She definitely hadn't meant to listen. But the affection in Jordan's voice pulls her attention before she can stop herself. Her eyes linger on the two of you longer than she means to. She narrows them slightly, then pretends to scroll again, thumbs moving without actually typing anything. Her jaw tightens just a bit. @@.jessica;"...Huh,"@@ she murmurs under her breath. She sneaks another look, quicker this time, then deliberately turns her body away like she's not watching at all... even though she absolutely is. <</if>>\ @@.jordan;"You know,"@@ he says, voice lower now, teasing, @@.jordan;"if I keep opening up like this, people might stop thinking I'm intimidating."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Is that a bad thing?"@@ He considers it, then shrugs. @@.jordan;"Depends on who notices."@@ @@.player;"Good answer,"@@ you say, heart skipping. He laughs again, full and uninhibited, and you find yourself laughing too. Both of you a little giddy, a little surprised by how nice and easy this all feels. @@.jordan;"Man,"@@ Jordan says, exhaling and shaking his head with a soft smile. @@.jordan;"I'm really glad I came today."@@ @@.player;"Me too,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Clancy's, emotional honesty, flirting. It's kind of a perfect combo."@@ @@.jordan;"Don't let anyone hear you say that,"@@ he replies. @@.jordan;"It'd ruin my reputation."@@ @@.player;"What reputation?"@@ you ask, grinning. @@.player;"As the scary quarterback that you should avoid?"@@ He nudges you gently. @@.jordan;"Exactly."@@ The two of you stand there a moment longer, laughing quietly, shoulders almost touching. Both of you are a lot happier than you were a few hours ago. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d22clancyjordan is false>>\ <<if $d22clancyconvo is 0>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You tilt your head a little and smile. @@.player;"Honestly? It does sound like a lot. But hell, I think you're handling it really well."@@ Jessica blinks before laughing, surprised. @@.jessica;"Wow. That was actually nice. I was expecting at least a little teasing from you."@@ @@.player;"Oh, trust me, I can tease if you want,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm just choosing kindness first out of the goodness of my heart."@@ She grins and bumps her shoulder against yours again. @@.jessica;"I appreciate the restraint."@@ @@.player;"I mean it,"@@ you add. @@.player;"Most people would crumble trying to keep up with that many expectations. You make it look easy. Or at least survivable."@@ Her smile softens. @@.jessica;"That's a really nice way of putting it."@@ @@.player;"I call it charm,"@@ you say, shrugging. She laughs once again. @@.jessica;"You know, people always assume I love every second of it. And I do like it, yeah, but it's nice hearing someone say it looks hard instead of glamorous."@@ @@.player;"I mean, I feel like people often forget that there's an actual person behind the account,"@@ you say. @@.jessica;"You're weirdly good at this, y'know,"@@ Jessica says. @@.player;"At what?"@@ @@.jessica;"Seeing people,"@@ you stay simply. You feel a little warm at that. @@.player;"Well, I guess I've had practice."@@ @@.jessica;"If you ever want tips on how to curate your image, I can help."@@ <<if $transgender > 19>>\ @@.player;"My image is 'person who occasionally remembers to exist online.'"@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"My image is 'guy who occasionally remembers to exist online.'"@@ <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"How tragic,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"We'll work on it."@@ @@.player;"Hard pass,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"But thank you."@@ @@.jessica;"Now come on. Before Jordan starts thinking we ditched him and pops a cig."@@ You glance back toward where Jordan's standing, then back at her, smiling. Today has turned into something unexpectedly good, and you're happy with that. <<elseif $d22clancyconvo is 1>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hesitate for half a second, then say it anyway. @@.player;"...I mean. Doesn't it kind of look like a waste of time?"@@ The words hang there as they leave your mouth. Jessica doesn't laugh. She doesn't even react right away. Her smile slowly fades, falling apart in small pieces. Her posture stiffens, and she pulls her phone back out of her pocket without actually looking at it, like she needs something to do with her hands. @@.jessica;"...Wow,"@@ she says after a beat. You immediately realize you fucked up, but it's already too late. @@.jessica;"A waste of time,"@@ she repeats quietly. It's clear that she's not angry, just kinda disappointed. @@.jessica;"Okay."@@ @@.player;"That's not what I meant,"@@ you start, but she shakes her head gently. @@.jessica;"No, no, it's fine,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"You're probably right, to be honest."@@ She looks down at her phone now, scrolling without really absorbing anything. @@.jessica;"I don't know why I waste my time with all this shit when nobody appreciates it anyway."@@ There's an awkward pause. @@.jessica;"I should probably finish this,"@@ she adds, voice guarded. @@.jessica;"I've got a couple people waiting on replies."@@ You nod, feeling the distance settle in. @@.player;"Yeah. Sure."@@ She gives a tight smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. @@.jessica;"I'll catch up with you guys in a sec."@@ You step back, unsure what else you can really say. There's nothing you can say that won't make it worse. Jessica turns slightly away from you, already absorbed in her phone again. It's clear that the conversation is over. You're just left standing there, the air suddenly feeling a little colder than it did a moment ago. <<elseif $d22clancyconvo is 2>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You shake your head, laughing. @@.player;"I wouldn't last five minutes on Instagram. Like, genuinely. I'd get cancelled by accident."@@ @@.jessica;"How?"@@ Jessica asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"Okay, so,"@@ you say, already grinning at the memory, @@.player;"Once I was stalking someone's profile. Normal behavior, you know. But I scrolled //way// too far back."@@ She winces in sympathy. @@.jessica;"Oh no."@@ @@.player;"Like, years back,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Middle school haircut, bad lighting, and questionable fashion choices. Unfortunately, my thumb slipped."@@ Her eyes widen. @@.jessica;"You liked it."@@ @@.player;"I liked it,"@@ you confirm. @@.player;"A post from, like, 2020. It was up for maybe half a second before I unliked it, but I know. I just know for a fact that they saw the notification."@@ @@.jessica;"Oh my God, that is my worst nightmare,"@@ Jessica says, bursting out laughing. @@.player;"I threw my phone across the room,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I considered ''everything''. Deleting my account, moving, even changing my name."@@ She laughs harder. @@.jessica;"I'm sorry, $name, but you can't recover from that. You just have to live with it forever."@@ @@.player;"The worst part is that I had, like, twelve followers at the time,"@@ you add. @@.player;"It was my first foray into social media. So it makes everything even worse. Direct emotional damage."@@ Jessica wipes at her eyes. @@.jessica;"I would've passed away, oh my God."@@ @@.player;"I still think about it sometimes,"@@ you say solemnly. @@.player;"In the middle of the night when everything except for my brain is quiet."@@ @@.jessica;"See, this is why I could never quit,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"I need to keep putting distance between me and my early mistakes. Because, trust me, I made quite a few as well."@@ You grin. @@.player;"You're braver than me."@@ @@.jessica;"Or dumber,"@@ she says cheerfully. As you chuckle, you think about how it's nice to not take things too seriously sometimes. <<elseif $d22clancyconvo is 3>>\ <<if $transgender > 19 and $acceptance > 24>>\ <<set $jessicaRomance to Math.clamp($jessicaRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You smile a little, not even really thinking about it before the words leave your mouth. @@.player;"I don't mind any opportunity to see more of you."@@ It comes out soft and light, almost playful. There's an ease to it too, like you're not bracing for impact. Jessica stills. She pauses, her phone in her pocket and her attention fully on you. Her eyes flick over your face, curious, amused, and very interested. @@.jessica;"Oh?"@@ she says, tilting her head slightly. @@.jessica;"Is that so?"@@ You shrug, rolling one shoulder. @@.player;"I mean, you're fun to look at and to listen to. More of you on Insta sounds like a win to me."@@ @@.jessica;"You're kind of smooth,"@@ she says, a smile spreading slowly across her face. @@.jessica;"You know that, $name?"@@ @@.player;"Well, I //am// experimenting,"@@ you respond. @@.jessica;"With what?"@@ she asks lightly. @@.player;"Presentation,"@@ you say, half-joking, half-not. @@.player;"Delivery. Vibes. All of that."@@ She hums, blue eyes bright. @@.jessica;"Well, let me tell you, I approve of the direction."@@ The space between you feels different, even charged. Not in an overwhelming way, but soft and buzzing, like static under the surface. Jessica steps a little closer, close enough that you can smell her perfume faintly. It smells clean and sweet, like cherries. <<if $jordanRomance > 19>>\ <<grantAchievement "D22JordanJealous">>\ <<set $jordanRomance to Math.clamp($jordanRomance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You don't notice it at first, but from across the lot, Jordan glances over. He's leaning back against a pole, hands in his jacket pockets, pretending to be absorbed in the street. But his eyes flick toward you anyway. He keeps glancing over, and it seems he's noticed how close you're standing and how easily you're smiling. His jaw tightens before he looks away a second later, breathing out through his nose, gaze fixed back on the road like he didn't see anything at all. He's pretending it doesn't matter, but you know it does. <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"You don't talk like a guy,"@@ she says, casually observant. @@.jessica;"It's refreshing."@@ You meet her gaze, feeling a flicker of uncertainty, but also excitement. @@.player;"Is that a good thing?"@@ She smiles wider. @@.jessica;"Very."@@ For a moment, neither of you says anything. You just stand there, sharing the quiet hum of th e parking lot, the neon glow from the restaurant reflecting faintly in her eyes. @@.jessica;"You're interesting,"@@ she says, grinning. Your heart skips. @@.player;"I am?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, you are,"@@ she says sincerely. @@.jessica;"I'd like to see more of that."@@ @@.player;"Guess you'll have to stick around, then,"@@ you say, smiling. She laughs softly, eyes crinkling at the corners. @@.jessica;"Guess I will."@@ The moment lingers, every moment somehow going too quickly and too slowly at the same time. <<else>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You lean a little closer, lowering your voice just enough to sound intentional. @@.player;"I don't mind any opportunity to see more of you."@@ The words come out smooth and confident. The kind of line you've heard a hundred times, and in this moment, you lean into it. You give her an easy grin, something that shows that you're interested. Jessica just blinks. Then her expression changes. Her smile tightens at the edges. @@.jessica;"Oh,"@@ she says. @@.player;"Like, since you upload selfies on your Insta and all that,"@@ you say, trying to explain yourself. Her posture stiffens, and she pulls her phone back out of her pocket without actually looking at it, like she needs something to do with her hands. @@.jessica;"That's... sweet."@@ But her body angles away just a little. She glances toward the parking lot, then to Jordan, then back at you, choosing her words carefully. @@.jessica;"I think I'm just... not really in a place for that right now."@@ You open your mouth to respond, maybe explain a little more, but she continues with a firm voice. @@.jessica;"It's been a long day, and I kind of need a minute to myself without all of... this,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"I hope that's okay."@@ The implication lands unmistakably. She turns her back toward you, attention drifting toward her phone. The conversation has ended. You can tell that she's asking to be left alone. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 41">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-kitchen.png"> The front door closes behind you with a familiar, soft click. You slip your shoes off at the entryway, nudging them into their usual spot with your feet. The house feels warm and nice to be in after the day you've had. Something smells good. Not fancy, just comforting. Rice and something simmering steadily on the stove. @@.mom;"$name?"@@ your mom calls from the kitchen. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you answer, already heading that way. She's standing at the stove when you round the corner, wooden spoon in hand and sleeves rolled up. Her hair is pulled back into a loose bun, although a few strands escape near her temples. She looks a little tired, she usually does around this hour, but when she sees you, her expression softens immediately. @@.mom;"There you are, baby,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"How was your day?"@@ @@.player;"Good,"@@ you respond. Then, after a beat, @@.player;"Actually, it was really good."@@ Her eyebrows lift slightly, pleased. @@.mom;"Oh?"@@ @@.player;"School wasn't bad, and I had a good time in theater. We started this cultural appreciation week thing, so there's stuff going on all week, and this massive event on Friday. It's gonna have booths and food and performances. I'm kinda looking forward to it."@@ @@.mom;"That sounds fun,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"What are you doing for it?"@@ @@.player;"We made posters today. And I think everyone's bringing food or something for the festival."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It's nice. Bit different from what we usually do."@@ She hums, stirring the stew. @@.mom;"I'm glad they're doing that. You always liked things like that when you were little."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, smiling faintly at the memory. She glances over her shoulder at you. @@.mom;"Anything else?"@@ <<if $d22carconvo isnot undefined>>\ You hesitate, then add, @@.player;"I went out to eat after school."@@ She turns fully now, surprised. @@.mom;"You did? Was it Luke and Samantha again?"@@ @@.player;"No, not them,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Some new friends."@@ Her smile widens. @@.mom;"That's nice. Where did you go?"@@ @@.player;"Just Clancy's,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Nothing fancy, but it was fun."@@ @@.mom;"I'm glad,"@@ she says sincerely. @@.mom;"You've been working hard. It's good to have some days off."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Not really,"@@ you say. @@.mom;"That's fine,"@@ she says sincerely. @@.mom;"It's nice to just rest sometimes."@@ <</if>>\ You watch her move around the kitchen, and it seems like she knows exactly where everything is without looking. She pours something in a bowl, then pauses, ladle hovering for just a second longer than usual. @@.mom;"Oh,"@@ she says, carefully. @@.mom;"By the way, about the weekend."@@ You look up. @@.player;"What about it?"@@ She sets the spoon down and turns toward you, leaning lightly against the counter. @@.mom;"Your dad's coming home that evening. Back from Houston. He said he wants to have dinner together."@@ You're not sure how to respond to the news. You think of your dad's calls that come late or get cut short. Of hotel rooms and business trips and promises made in passing. Of the time he said he'd stay home more, be around more, and take care of things. That was three weeks ago, and he's already back to his usual schedule. Your mom watches your face, her expression gentle and knowing. She doesn't rush you. @@.mom;"The dinner would be late, you wouldn't have to miss anything,"@@ she adds quickly. @@.mom;"It'll just be nice to have it with the family."@@ You exhale. @@.player;"Alright."@@ She reaches out and squeezes your arm briefly. @@.mom;"I know it's... complicated,"@@ she says softly. @@.mom;"But I hope you'll give it a chance."@@ You don't know what to say to that. You know she wants to believe it, and part of you does too. On the other hand, a part of you is tired of hoping. She gives you a small, encouraging smile. @@.mom;"You don't have to decide how you feel about it right now."@@ You nod slowly before opening your mouth. <<button "Respond angrily" "Day 22 - 42">>\<<set $d22dad to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_dad" "Respond angrily" "story">><</button>> <<button "Show that you're hurt" "Day 22 - 42">>\<<set $d22dad to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_dad" "Show that you're hurt" "story">><</button>> <<button "Respond forgivingly" "Day 22 - 42">>\<<set $d22dad to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D22_dad" "Respond forgivingly" "story">><</button>> <<button "Avoid the topic" "Day 22 - 42">>\<<set $d22dad to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D22_dad" "Avoid the topic" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d22dad is 0>>\ You don't answer right away. The warmth from earlier drains out of you slowly, like someone cracked open a window. @@.player;"He always says that,"@@ you say. Your voice isn't loud, but there's an edge to it that surprises even you. Your mom stills, turns to face you fully, and focuses fully on you. @@.mom;"$name—"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you cut in, shaking your head. @@.player;"I mean it. He ''always'' says that. He promised that he'd be home more three weeks ago. And guess what? It's work again. Hotels again. Calls that get pushed back AGAIN. Excuses."@@ She exhales slowly, like she's bracing herself. @@.mom;"I know."@@ @@.player;"And now, on the weekend, on Saturday, he wants me to make time for him,"@@ you continue, frustration spilling out. @@.player;"It's like he only remembers he's a dad when it's convenient. I'm not okay with it, and I don't even know if I want to be okay with it anymore."@@ That lands heavily. The kitchen goes quiet except for the faint bubbling of the stew. She steps closer, closing the distance just enough to be there. @@.mom;"You've been disappointed a lot,"@@ she says gently. @@.mom;"Anyone would be angry."@@ You swallow. @@.player;"I don't want to get my hopes up again. I don't want to sit there at dinner pretending everything's fine when I'm just waiting for the ball to drop and for him to leave."@@ She nods slowly. @@.mom;"That's fair, $name. I understand."@@ @@.player;"You're not mad?"@@ you ask, looking at her. @@.mom;"No,"@@ she says without hesitation. @@.mom;"I could never be mad at you for feeling like that."@@ She hesitates, then adds softly, @@.mom;"I still love your dad. That hasn't changed for me, and it probably never will. But that doesn't mean I'm blind to his faults. And it especially doesn't mean that I expect you to be ready to forgive him every time he asks."@@ Your shoulders sag a little. @@.player;"I just..."@@ You trail off, searching for the right words. @@.player;"I don't know if I can keep giving him chances. It feels like I'm the only one getting hurt."@@ She reaches out and rests her hand over yours. @@.mom;"You don't have to decide tonight,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"Or tomorrow. Or even by Saturday."@@ @@.player;"But you //do// want me to give him another chance."@@ She doesn't deny it. @@.mom;"I do,"@@ she admits quietly. @@.mom;"Because I believe people can try again. And because I still see the man I married when I look at him. I won't force you to, though, $name. This has to be on your terms."@@ The knot in your chest loosens a little. It's nice to feel acknowledged. She squeezes your hand once. @@.mom;"You already ate, right?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm full."@@ @@.mom;"I figured,"@@ she says with a small smile. @@.mom;"Go rest. You've had a long day."@@ You nod, lingering for a moment before heading toward the stairs. <<elseif $d22dad is 1>>\ @@.player;"I... kinda already had plans in my head,"@@ you say. Your voice is honest in a way that feels a little vulnerable. @@.player;"For Saturday, I mean."@@ Your mom pauses, ladle resting against the pot. She turns to face you fully now, giving you her full attention. @@.mom;"Saturday?"@@ she asks gently. @@.mom;"What kind of plans?"@@ You shrug before realizing that that doesn't really explain anything. @@.player;"I don't know. Not like, official plans or anything. But there was stuff I could've done. I guess I just thought the weekend would be... mine."@@ She nods slowly, deciding not to interrupt. @@.player;"It's just,"@@ you continue, words starting to tumble out of your mouth now that you've started, @@.player;"every time he says he's coming home, I kind of rearrange all this stuff in my head. I tell myself that this time will be different. And then it's not. So I stopped planning around it."@@ Your mom exhales softly. @@.mom;"That's fair."@@ You look up, surprised. @@.mom;"You're allowed to feel that way, $name,"@@ she says, offering a tired smile. @@.mom;"You're allowed to feel disappointed."@@ @@.player;"I'm not mad,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I just don't want to get my hopes up again, and I especially don't want to feel like I'm doing something wrong by wanting my own time."@@ She reaches out and rests her hand over yours, warm and steady. @@.mom;"You're not doing anything wrong."@@ You swallow. @@.player;"I know he's my dad, and I know he wants to try. I just wish it didn't always feel like we're fitting him into our lives instead of him fitting into ours."@@ Her grip tightens slightly. @@.mom;"I know, dear. We can figure out what to do, $name. You don't have to cancel your life for him."@@ There's a quiet understanding. Years of shared disappointment, of small adjustments and compromises. She doesn't defend him or make excuses, instead deciding to just stay with you in the feeling. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, nodding. She squeezes your hand once more, then lets go, turning back to the stove. @@.mom;"Also,"@@ she adds lightly, trying to lift the mood just a bit, @@.mom;"since you already ate, I won't guilt you into leftovers."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you say. @@.mom;"Go relax,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"You've had a long day."@@ You head up the stairs toward your room, heart still a little sore. But you're glad that your mom at least sees you, hears you, and is firmly on your side. <<elseif $d22dad is 2>>\ You take a breath and let it out slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That's fine. I'll be there."@@ Your mom looks at you carefully, like she's checking for cracks. @@.mom;"You're sure?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"I mean... if he's coming home on Saturday, I can make time for that."@@ Her expression softens. Relief shows first, then warmth. @@.mom;"Thank you,"@@ she says. She turns back to the stove, adjusts the heat, then glances over her shoulder again. @@.mom;"You already ate, right?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm full."@@ She laughs quietly. @@.mom;"I figured. I wasn't going to force you into a second dinner."@@ You smile at that and lean against the fridge, watching her work. There's something comforting about the normalcy of it all. After a moment, you speak again, quieter this time. @@.player;"I know he messes up,"@@ you say. @@.player;"A lot, actually. And I know he's said this before. But I don't want to just... shut him out."@@ Your mom stops stirring to show that she's listening. @@.player;"I do get tired of it,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Of waiting, and hoping, and then being disappointed. But I also don't want to be the person who doesn't give him a chance when he says he's trying."@@ She turns fully toward you now, eyes gentle. @@.mom;"That's a very generous way to look at it."@@ @@.player;"I don't know if it's generous,"@@ you murmur, shrugging. @@.player;"It just feels easier than being angry all the time."@@ She reaches out and rests her hand over yours. @@.mom;"It's okay to be cautious and wary, and it's also okay to hope anyway,"@@ she says softly. @@.player;"I know,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.mom;"Saturday it is, then,"@@ she says after a bit. @@.mom;"We'll keep it simple. Just dinner."@@ @@.player;"That sounds good,"@@ you reply. She smiles at you, then squeezes your hand once before letting go. @@.mom;"I'm proud of you,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"For trying."@@ You don't quite know how to respond to that, so you just nod. <<elseif $d22dad is 3>>\ You nod once. @@.player;"Sure."@@ It comes out flat and too quickly, like you're closing the door before anyone else can slip through it. Your mom studies your face for a second, clearly sensing there's more under the surface, but she doesn't press. She knows what you mean with that tone. @@.mom;"So, I'm assuming you're already full?"@@ she asks gently. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I already got food."@@ She smiles. @@.mom;"I thought so. I made food anyway, just in case."@@ @@.player;"Smells good,"@@ you say, even though your stomach is still heavy from Clancy's. @@.player;"Don't think I can eat any, though."@@ She nods, accepting that, then gestures vaguely toward the stairs. @@.mom;"Go relax, then. Long day."@@ @@.player;"Good night,"@@ you say. @@.mom;"Good night, $name,"@@ she replies, warm as always. @@.mom;"Sleep well."@@ You hesitate for half a second, like you might say something else, but the moment passes. Instead, you turn and head up the stairs, footsteps soft against the steps. <</if>>\ <<button "End of a long day" "Day 22 - 43">><</button>>

<img src="img/bg/player-bedroomn.png"> <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $bra to 69>>\ You spend the rest of the evening doing the things you have to do. Homework comes first, mostly because you know you won't do it if you put it off. You sit at your desk with your laptop open, working through assignments. Nothing too overwhelming, luckily. You get through it steadily, pausing now and then to check your phone, to scroll through messages, to laugh over something funny Luke sent months ago. At some point, you push back from the desk and stretch, shoulders aching faintly. The day feels like it's finally catching up to you. The shower definitely helps. The water is hot. It's almost too hot at first, but you get used to it quickly. You stand there longer than you need to, letting the warmth sink into your muscles. Afterward, you change into your pajamas and wander back to your room, turn off the lights, and crawl into bed. The day catches up to you all at once. There was a lot that happened today, and you got to connect with other people. But tomorrow flashes through your mind next. It's art class tomorrow. You haven't really done much there yet. You attend, of course, but you haven't really entered the space. You haven't talked much or met many people. It's been... quiet. Maybe tomorrow will continue the trend, and everything will stay that way. Or something might finally click, the way it did in theater. Your eyes grow heavy before you can pin the feeling down. The house creaks faintly as it settles. Somewhere down the hall, a door closes. Maybe it's Lily. You shift onto your side, pulling the blanket up, and let your breathing slow. Whatever tomorrow brings can wait. For now, you want to sleep. <<button "Next Day" "Day 23 - 1">><</button>>

You lean back in your chair, stretching your fingers. It feels like you've been drawing for hours, even though it's probably been 40 minutes. The air in the classroom smells like marker ink, and chatter fills the room as students show off, trade pens, and rush to complete their posters. Across from you, Jessica lets out a triumphant sigh and flips her poster upright like she's just finished a masterpiece. @@.jessica;"And done,"@@ she announces. @@.jessica;"Behold my cultural identity."@@ You look over. It's bright, colorful, and undeniably Jessica. The American flag takes up almost the entire center, drawn with perfect stripes (did she use a ruler?) and a field of fireworks. In the corners, the German and Norwegian flags sit politely, like footnotes to a much louder story. There's also a slice of apple pie, a cheeseburger, a baseball glove, and what looks to be an SUV. @@.player;"You really went for the 'land of freedom and cholesterol' vibe,"@@ you say, chuckling. She grins. @@.jessica;"Obviously. I ''bleed'' red, white, and blue, $name."@@ @@.player;"Is that a golden retriever?"@@ you ask, pointing at a dog. @@.jessica;"Yeah, his name's Buddy,"@@ she says without missing a beat. @@.jessica;"I modeled him after Luke. He's fictional, but exists in spirit. Represents American family values."@@ You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"And the pickup truck?"@@ @@.jessica;"Represents mobility,"@@ she says, trying her best to sound intellectual. @@.jessica;"And also my Uncle Bill. He ''loves'' his F-150."@@ You shake your head, smiling. @@.player;"So I'm guessing the tiny German and Norwegian flags are just there to make you seem cultured?"@@ @@.jessica;"Exactly,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Look, I thought about putting bratwurst or Viking helmets somewhere, but I decided to respect my ignorance. Europeans would get so mad at me, they'd probably call me an uncultured American. I'd just end up offending both countries and getting banned from ever visiting."@@ @@.player;"I don't think they're that strict,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.jessica;"Germany would be,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"I colored in the stripes wrong and had to check Google, like, three times."@@ @@.player;"How would you feel if you were German?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"No thank you,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"I'd need to know two languages. Also, I love how chaotic America is. I saw two ladies fighting over a game console at Walmart the other day, even though there were ten of them. Their cafeteria food also looks too good. It's kinda spooky. I'll take Pacific Crest's mystery meat."@@ @@.player;"You like the worst parts of America,"@@ you comment, chuckling. @@.jessica;"Maybe I do,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"But it's home and Sunday Night Football and guns are what I grew up with. Those are my traditions. It's kind of embarrassing, really."@@ @@.player;"I don't think that's embarrassing,"@@ you say, smiling. Jessica smiles back, softer this time. @@.jessica;"Good. I'm proud of this, then. Just ignore my bald eagle that looks like a pigeon."@@ You stare at it. @@.player;"It really does look like a pigeon."@@ @@.jessica;"Ugh, I //knew// it,"@@ she groans. @@.jessica;"I colored it in when I realized it does not look anything like an eagle."@@ You're still laughing when Ms. Carter claps her hands at the front of the room. @@.girl;"Alright, everyone! Start wrapping things up. Homeroom's nearly over. Please place your posters on my desk before you head out."@@ Everyone hurriedly finishes their last details, push their chairs in, and zip their backpacks. Someone in the back says, @@.boy;"Wait, we were supposed to draw something?"@@ and a friend swats him with a marker. Jessica stands, smoothing out her posture carefully. @@.jessica;"Time to present my patriotic masterpiece to the world,"@@ she says dryly. @@.jessica;"But, like, quietly. Before someone asks me to name all fifty states."@@ <<if $study > 84>>\ @@.player;"You seriously don't know?"@@ you ask. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Don't worry, I don't know them either,"@@ you say. <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"I can do, like, thirty-seven,"@@ she whispers. @@.jessica;"Please don't expose me, it'd be so embarrassing."@@ You chuckle as you both weave through the rows of desks. Jessica carries her posters with both hands, handling it like its the Mona Lisa even though the edges are already bent. She places it down on Ms. Carter's desk. @@.jessica;"There you go,"@@ she murmurs to it, amused. @@.jessica;"Go forth and be displayed under terrible school lighting."@@ You set yours down on top of it. Jessica swings her backpack over one shoulder, giving you a grin. @@.jessica;"Let's hope we don't get judged too harshly on Thursday."@@ @@.player;"Your pigeon-eagle might scare them off."@@ @@.jessica;"Maybe 'cause of how bad the art is,"@@ she says, giggling. And with that, the bell rings. <<button "Get through the first two periods" "Day 22 - 6">><</button>>

The cafeteria hums with its usual chaos. Laughter, conversation, trays clattering, and the faint hum of vending machines. The air smells like chicken nuggets and french fries. There's a mandatory vegetable cup, but almost everyone throws them away. You weave through the crowd with your tray, scanning for the familiar splash of orange hair near the back. Sure enough, Luke's already waving you over, halfway through his overloaded plate of tater tots. Sitting across from him is Samantha, phone in one hand, straw in the other, idly stirring her iced tea like she's too cool to be there. @@.luke;"Yo!"@@ Luke says, grinning the moment you approach. @@.luke;"$name! Over here, man!"@@ Samantha doesn't look up. @@.samantha;"He can hear you, Luke,"@@ she says flatly. You drop your tray beside Luke and slide into the seat. @@.player;"Hey, Samantha."@@ @@.samantha;"How'd your poster thing go?"@@ she asks, putting her phone down. @@.samantha;"You didn't, like, set anything on fire, did you?"@@ @@.player;"Not this time,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It actually looks pretty good, if I may say so myself. You?"@@ She smirks. @@.samantha;"Mine was a masterpiece. Cultural relevance, artistic depth, emotional resonance. An alla prima work of art."@@ @@.luke;"You mean you finished it last second,"@@ Luke says with his mouth half full. Samantha glares at him. @@.samantha;"Some of us work better under pressure, Puke."@@ You grin. @@.player;"So what are you doing for the Culture Festival on Friday?"@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, of course I'm gonna represent Mexico."@@ Luke pauses mid-bite and frowns. @@.luke;"Wait... you're Mexican?"@@ Samantha stares at him like she's waiting for the punchline. @@.samantha;"Are you serious?"@@ @@.luke;"I mean, Rivera sounded kinda like Spanish, but not, like, //actually// Spanish, you know?"@@ @@.samantha;"Wow,"@@ Samantha says flatly. @@.samantha;"Thank you, Professor. Truly groundbreaking research."@@ @@.luke;"You never talk about it!"@@ Luke insists, defending himself. @@.luke;"It's an honest mistake."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, 'cause it's not exactly a mystery. What, did you think I was Italian?"@@ He squints. @@.luke;"I can see it."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh my fucking God,"@@ Samantha says, sighing dramatically. @@.samantha;"This is why you're in ESL."@@ Luke shrugs, unbothered. @@.luke;"Anyway, yeah, some people from student council asked me to represent Ireland for the festival."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You didn't say yes, right?"@@ @@.luke;"Of course I did!"@@ Luke says proudly. Samantha groans and drags a hand down her face. @@.samantha;"Oh, no."@@ @@.luke;"Why are you guys worried?"@@ Luke asks. @@.luke;"I'll be great! I'll wear green, talk about luck, and bring a fake pot of gold. I wanted real gold, but it's too expensive."@@ @@.player;"Please don't do any of that,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"Why not? It's cultural appreciation!"@@ @@.samantha;"More like cultural embarrassment,"@@ Samantha says, still laughing. @@.samantha;"They're gonna revoke your Irish card. You're just American, sorry man."@@ Luke leans forward. @@.luke;"Okay, so what should I do then? Since you're the expert."@@ @@.samantha;"I don't know,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Maybe start by Googling something that isn't a cartoon stereotype? Blasting bagpipes on your phone doesn't count as Irish culture."@@ @@.luke;"I was thinking U2,"@@ Luke says seriously. @@.luke;"That counts as Irish music, right?"@@ You press a hand to your forehead, trying to stop the oncoming headache. @@.player;"I cannot believe you said yes."@@ @@.luke;"Why not?"@@ he says, grinning. @@.luke;"It'll be fun! Plus, they said there's free food for the reps. Now that's cool."@@ Samantha gives him a look. @@.samantha;"There we go. That's the real reason."@@ @@.luke;"You guys should know better,"@@ Luke states, grinning wider. @@.player;"That booth is going to be a mess,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"Hey!"@@ he exclaims, offended. @@.luke;"You'll see. My booth's gonna be legendary."@@ @@.samantha;"Legendary for getting shut down in the first ten minutes,"@@ Samantha says dryly. Luke ignores her and makes bagpipe noises with his mouth until a kid at the next table throws him a glare. Samantha finishes her drink and lowers the bottle. @@.samantha;"So, serious question,"@@ she begins, trying not to smirk, @@.samantha;"Whose food are we all making a beeline for at the festival?"@@ <<button "Italian, duh" "Day 22 - 7">>\<<set $d22food to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D22_food" "Italian, duh" "story">><</button>> <<button "We've gotta go Chinese" "Day 22 - 7">>\<<set $d22food to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D22_food" "We've gotta go Chinese" "story">><</button>> <<button "Bomboclat Jamaican food" "Day 22 - 7">>\<<set $d22food to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D22_food" "Bomboclat Jamaican food" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d22food is 0>>\ You don't even have to think about it. @@.player;"Italian, duh."@@ Luke perks up immediately. @@.luke;"Oh man, now //that's// the good stuff. Pasta, pizza, those breadsticks at Olive Garden. Mmmmm..."@@ Samantha groans. @@.samantha;"Luke, please don't say Olive Garden like it's sacred."@@ @@.luke;"What?"@@ he asks, looking genuinely offended. @@.luke;"Olive Garden's amazing! Endless breadsticks? Unlimited soup and salad? That's peak culture right there. I love the Italians."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"That's not actually Italian food, dude."@@ He blinks. @@.luke;"What do you mean it's not Italian food? It says right there on the sign: Italian Kitchen."@@ @@.player;"It's Italian themed,"@@ you correct. @@.player;"If you took a trip of Italy and asked for fettucine alfredo, they'd deport you."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, real Italians don't even make sauce like that. Alfredo sauce is purely American. They add a lot more cream and butter."@@ His eyebrows knit together. @@.luke;"So... Papa John's isn't real either?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"Man, what the fuck?"@@ he says, staring at the table in shock. @@.luke;"Then what's even real anymore?"@@ Samantha pats his arm in sympathy. @@.samantha;"Heartbreak is real, Luke. We've all been there."@@ He shakes his head slowly, like his worldview's just crumbled. @@.luke;"Dude, I've been living a lie my entire life. next you're gonna tell me spaghetti and meatballs aren't Italian either."@@ @@.player;"They're not,"@@ you say gently. He looks betrayed. @@.luke;"What?! But that's like, the default Italian dish!"@@ Samantha's laughing too hard to respond now. @@.luke;"You guys are the worst,"@@ Luke says, pretending to sulk. @@.luke;"You just love ruining nice things."@@ @@.samantha;"Look, someone had to tell you,"@@ Samantha says, grinning. @@.samantha;"At least you'll be able to appreciate real Italian food at the festival."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, I don't know if I can recover in time to eat anything,"@@ he says, picking at his food. @@.luke;"I just lost my appetite."@@ @@.player;"Don't worry, they'll probably still have pizza,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.luke;"Good,"@@ he says firmly. @@.luke;"Because if there's no pizza, I'm rioting."@@ Samantha rolls her eyes. @@.samantha;"You'd find //something// to eat, Luke. Don't even lie."@@ @@.luke;"You know me too well,"@@ Luke mumbles, mouth full. @@.luke;"This is why you guys are my best friends."@@ You shake your head. <<elseif $d22food is 1>>\ You lean back in your chair, thinking it over before coming to an answer. @@.player;"We've gotta go Chinese. No contest."@@ Luke immediately nods in agreement. @@.luke;"Yes! There's this Chinese place near my house, oh boy, lemme tell you. Best food I have ''ever'' had."@@ @@.samantha;"Oh, yeah?"@@ Samantha asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.samantha;"What's it called?"@@ He thinks for a moment. @@.luke;"Uh... I think it's just called China Dragon Palace King Garden."@@ @@.player;"That's just five random words glued together."@@ @@.samantha;"That's how you know it's good,"@@ Samantha says, rolling her eyes. @@.luke;"Right?"@@ Luke says enthusiastically, completely missing the sarcasm. @@.luke;"And it's incredible. Huge portions, super cheap, and the lo mein. Oh man, the lo mein."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"I'm pretty sure I've heard about that place. Isn't it that one that failed a food safety inspection last year?"@@ @@.luke;"Okay, fine, they //might've// gotten a bad grade,"@@ Luke admits. @@.luke;"But that's just the government trying to hold down small immigrant-run businesses, man."@@ Samantha spits out her drink laughing. @@.samantha;"You're defending a restaurant that got shut down?"@@ @@.luke;"It didn't get shut down!"@@ Luke insists. @@.luke;"That's the amazing part! It's still open. They just covered the inspection notice with a new 'Grand Reopening' poster. Genius move, honestly."@@ You stare at him, trying not to laugh. @@.player;"You're still eating there?"@@ @@.luke;"Obviously!"@@ he says, like it's a dumb question. @@.luke;"Dude, the portions are massive. You order orange chicken, and a family-size bucket comes. I haven't died yet, so I think it's fine."@@ @@.samantha;"That doesn't mean anything, Luke!"@@ Samantha exclaims, laughing. @@.samantha;"That's just dumb luck!"@@ @@.luke;"if it tastes good, it's safe enough,"@@ Luke states, shrugging. @@.luke;"That's what I always say."@@ You shake your head, grinning. @@.player;"Let me tell you, that is the worst food philosophy I've ever heard."@@ @@.luke;"Hey, I trust my gut,"@@ Luke says confidently. @@.luke;"It hasn't betrayed me."@@ @@.samantha;"Yet,"@@ Samantha mutters. Luke grins and waves her off. @@.luke;"Nah, you'll see. I'm taking you guys there one day. You'll thank me when you're too full to move."@@ @@.player;"Or when we're all in the hospital,"@@ you say. @@.samantha;"Group field trip to the ER,"@@ Samantha mutters, chuckling. Luke just laughs, completely undeterred. @@.luke;"You're gonna regret making fun of me when you taste those egg rolls. Best in town."@@ @@.player;"What's the secret ingredient?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"Hmm,"@@ Luke hums, tapping his chin as he thinks. @@.luke;"Maybe rat. That's why they got shut down."@@ Samantha laughs so hard she actually snorts, which makes you start laughing again too. It's ridiculous, but in that familiar way. Luke's still defending his beloved "China Dragon Palace King Garden" until the bell rings. <<elseif $d22food is 2>>\ @@.player;"How about Jamaican?"@@ you ask, leaning back in your chair. @@.player;"You can't go wrong with jerk chicken and plantains."@@ @@.luke;"Oh yeah, Jamaican food slaps,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"There's this place near my house that's //so// good."@@ Samantha looks intrigued. @@.samantha;"Oh really? What's it called?"@@ He squints really hard. @@.luke;"I think it's called Jamaica Vibes Hut. Something with palm trees on the sign. You can smell it from the parking lot."@@ @@.player;"That sounds good,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"It //is// kinda weird though, but I ignore it 'cause the food is so good,"@@ Luke says, grinning. Samantha raises a brow. @@.samantha;"Weird how?"@@ @@.luke;"They're super chill but also... spacey?"@@ he says, thinking. @@.luke;"They always laugh at the most random stuff. And the whole place smells kinda funny, like dirt or a forest."@@ Samantha's eyes narrow slowly. @@.samantha;"Luke... was this smell coming from the kitchen?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, I think so,"@@ he says, nodding seriously. @@.luke;"They always have this cloud of smoke by the counter. I asked once if they were doing some kind of incense thing, and the guy just said, 'Bless up, my man,' and gave me extra rice."@@ You can't help from laughing. @@.player;"Oh no."@@ @@.luke;"What?"@@ Luke asks, genuinely confused. Samantha drops her head into her hands, shaking with laughter. @@.samantha;"Dude,"@@ she says between giggles, @@.samantha;"it's ''weed.'' They're smoking weed."@@ Luke's expression freezes mid-chew. @@.luke;"...What?"@@ @@.samantha;"That 'earthy, herbal' smell? That's marijuana, genius."@@ He blinks, processing this information. @@.luke;"Wait, seriously? They smoke //at// the restaurant?"@@ @@.player;"They're probably getting high in the back,"@@ you say through laughter. Samantha wipes her eyes. @@.samantha;"No wonder they're always so happy! You walk in and they're like, 'Bless up, my man,' because they're on another plane of existence!"@@ Luke looks horrified. @@.luke;"Bomboclat... that actually explains so much."@@ @@.player;"Luke, you've been getting food from a place that's basically a hotbox with a menu,"@@ you wheeze out. He crosses his arms stubbornly. @@.luke;"Hey, don't judge me. It's still the best rice I've ever had."@@ @@.samantha;"No shit, sherlock,"@@ Samantha says, grinning. @@.samantha;"That's because it's infused."@@ Luke groans, running a hand through his hair. @@.luke;"Great. So I've basically been eating illegal lunch for months."@@ @@.player;"Relax,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.player;"If anything, it explains why you're always in such a good mood after eating there."@@ @@.samantha;"I guess we understand why you showed up to hang out smiling like an idiot now,"@@ Samantha says. He glares at both of you. @@.luke;"I hate you guys. I liked that place."@@ @@.player;"You can still like it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Just... maybe don't breathe too deeply when you pick up your order."@@ @@.samantha;"And if you get the munchies afterward, now you'll know why,"@@ Samantha adds. <</if>>\ <<button "Lunch over!" "Day 22 - 8">><</button>>

The theater classroom smells like paint and glue, like it always does. The posters from past productions line the walls, with former students immortalized in photographs. You drop your backpack by the front row of worn-out seats just as Mr. Bennet bursts through the side door. His scarf seems even longer than usual (if that's even possible), and his curls are tied back in a headband that says "Drama is Life." He's carrying a clipboard that looks like it's seen several wars. @@.boy;"How nice to see you all again, my radiant thespians!"@@ he declares. @@.boy;"Gather your creative souls because today, we prepare for the greatest tragedy ever penned by man!"@@ The class groans softly. They all know what's coming. @@.boy;"Yes, yes, roll your eyes, children of the stage!"@@ Bennet continues, pacing theatrically across the scuffed stage. @@.boy;"But like it or not, dread it or run from it, the //Romeo and Juliet// auditions draw near!"@@ He stops dramatically mid-step, pointing his clipboard skyward. @@.boy;"And if you think you can simply walk in and fake passion, think again! Love must bleed through your pores and despair must consume your very soul!"@@ Someone in the back mutters, @@.girl;"Hasn't he been saying this since the start of the semester?"@@ @@.boy;"I have been, and I will continue saying it!"@@ Mr. Bennet shoots back without missing a beat. @@.boy;"Repetition is the lifeblood of art and of trauma!"@@ A ripple of laughter moves through the room. You can't help but grin. The man //is// pretty exhausting, sure, but he's never boring. He sets the clipboard down. @@.boy;"Now, my darlings. My actors-in-training. My beautiful students. Before we dive headlong into Shakespeare's whirlwind of doomed romance, we must first... loosen the limbs! Awaken the imagination! Reignite the spark of absurdity that lies dormant within your hearts!"@@ A collective, cautious silence fills the room. @@.boy;"In other words... today we are doing Costume Madness!"@@ he says, grinning. He strides over to the corner and pulls the lid off a massive plastic bin. Inside is a tangled mountain of costumes that look like they were purchased at Spirit Halloween a decade ago. Pirate hats, fairy wings, Victorian dresses, neon wings, a full-body banana suit, and what might once have been a lion costume but now looks more like a damp carpet. @@.boy;"Ah yes, the sacred chest of dreams and despair."@@ He starts digging through the pile, tossing random items onto the floor like a raccoon. @@.boy;"You'll find pieces here from every era of Crestview theater history! Ancient relics of our high school's artistic glory! and by that, I mean old stuff that the head of the drama department refuses to throw away."@@ You stifle a laugh as he pulls out a glittery cape and drapes it over his shoulders. @@.boy;"We are, my loves, a resourceful department!"@@ he declares proudly. @@.boy;"And this exercise, as ridiculous as it may appear, will sharpen your instincts, test your collaboration skills, and help you stop caring about how ridiculous you look onstage."@@ He lowers his voice conspiratorially, eyes darting around the room before he begins to speak. @@.boy;"Also, storage is full, and administration won't approve more space unless I can prove we use these costumes."@@ That gets a pretty loud laugh from the class. @@.boy;"Now!"@@ He claps his hands again, startling a few people. @@.boy;"The rules are simple! You will form groups of three. Each group will come to the bin, grab whatever costume items call to your chaotic little hearts, and craft a scene around them! You can do whatever you want. The only rule is that it must be creative."@@ He paces back and forth like a general rallying his troops for a great battle. @@.boy;"Remember, acting is truth under imaginary circumstances! Whether you end up as a time-traveling knight, a disco vampire, or a detective chicken, find the truth within the madness!"@@ You glance around as everyone starts shifting, whispering, and eyeing potential partners. A few students make a break for their friends before anyone else can claim. Someone's already wearing a massive hat. Another kid's waving around a fake sword that's missing its hilt. You sigh softly and glance around the room as the sound of shuffling desks and laughter fills the air. Time to find a group. <<button "Who to group up with?" "Day 22 - 9">><</button>>

<<if $jordanRomance > 19>> <<grantAchievement "D22JordanAsk">>\ You stand, taking a second to breathe. People are already lunging toward their best friend, calling out across the room, and dragging people along by the sleeves. Someone trips over a plastic knight helmet. Two guys are fighting over the feather cape, both claiming to have seen it first. You glance left, then right, and you're about to start walking when— @@.jordan;"$name."@@ The voice is calm. low, and familiar. You turn around to see Jordan is already walking toward you. It's not his usual saunter, though. He's going a lot quicker, like he didn't want to risk someone else getting to you first. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his varsity jacket, and he's wearing the faintest smile that he doesn't usually let people see. For a split second, you swear he slows down as he approaches you. If it was someone else, you could swear that he was bracing himself. He stops in front of you, shoulders angled slightly in your direction. @@.jordan;"Partner up with me?"@@ he asks. His voice is steady, sure, but there's a softness behind it. It makes it impossible to miss the fact that he actually cares about your answer. You feel your stomach flip a little. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Definitely."@@ The relief that passes across Jordan's face is subtle, but unmistakable. His shoulders drop slightly, and his mouth softens into this quiet grin that looks like it just barely managed to escape before he could pull it back. @@.jordan;"Good,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I, uh, wanted to get to you before someone else did."@@ @@.player;"You worried I'd abandon you?"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. Jordan lets out a small laugh. @@.jordan;"No, I would never. I just wanted to make sure."@@ His eyes flick away for a moment, then back at you. @@.jordan;"Being your partner makes this class a ''lot'' better."@@ He looks almost confused by his own honestly, like the words slipped out without his permission and he's trying to figure out why. Jordan's always so controlled and steady, but right now it's like he's feeling his way through uncharted territory. You're really hoping your face isn't red right now. @@.player;"Thanks. I appreciate that."@@ @@.jordan;"Plus, you get my style,"@@ he says, clearing his throat as he resets himself. @@.jordan;"Onstage, of course."@@ @@.player;"Your style?"@@ you echo. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. @@.jordan;"Yeah. You really understand what I mean when I say something. Some people just listen to the words that come out of my mouth. You just seem to get... //everything//."@@ He pauses, then adds, quieter, @@.jordan;"I don't get that with a lot of people."@@ Jordan says it like a confession, even if it isn't. @@.player;"It makes me happy to hear that,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"Thanks for asking me to partner up."@@ He looks at you for a moment, and the eyes seem to turn brighter. He swallows gently and glances away shyly before he finds your gaze again. @@.jordan;"It just felt right,"@@ he murmurs. He clears his throat and tries to straighten up, doing a weird little shrug. @@.jordan;"I //would// go solo with you if that was allowed. But Bennet said trios."@@ Jordan's eyes suddenly widens slightly. He seems to realize what he said a second too late. @@.jordan;"For the assignment, of course. Not, like, y'know. Anything else..."@@ @@.player;"I know what you meant,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'd be fine with duos too."@@ @@.jordan;"Cool. Good. Yeah."@@ He exhales, relieved. @@.jordan;"We should, um... get a third before all that's left is, like..."@@ He nods at a kid in the corner who is currently wearing a duct-taped wizard robe and shouting into a fake skull. @@.jordan;"...that,"@@ he finishes. You laugh, and he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, the warmth returning to his expression just from seeing you smile. @@.player;"Let's get someone good for our group, yeah,"@@ you say, giggling. He starts walking a little too quickly, and you fall into step beside him. Jordan slows his pace, though, adjusting to your gate. Your shoulders brush once when he shifts around a person. But instead of pulling away, he drifts a little closer. You make your way to the corner, where a few unclaimed students stand around awkwardly. It's time to pull in your final teammate before someone else beats you to it. <<elseif $jordanRelo > 29>>\ You stand up from your seat and take in the chaos. Half the class is already scrambled into trios, people waving others over desperately. A few students are elbow-deep in the costume bin even though Mr. Bennet definitely did //not// tell them they could start yet. Typical theater energy. You weave through a few clusters, awkwardly dodging a spear someone is already swinging around. You open your mouth to ask one girl if she needs a partner, but she's already being dragged away by two others toward the costume bin. Someone else gives you an apologetic shrug as they have a full group already. @@.player;"Wow. Brutal,"@@ you mutter to yourself. Then you spot him. Jordan. He's leaning on a wall near the back of the room. He's got his varsity jacket on, as always, with the sleeves pushed up. His expression is relaxed yet thoughtful, in that typical Jordan way. He //acts// like he doesn't care, but you can tell he's examining every move. And when his gaze meets yours, something in his expression softens. You head over. @@.player;"Hey. You waiting on someone?"@@ Jordan exhales, giving a half-smile. @@.jordan;"Nah. Just avoiding getting tackled by people fighting over fairy wings."@@ @@.player;"Fair,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"You wanna group up, then?"@@ He doesn't hesitate. @@.jordan;"Yeah. Obviously."@@ His tone is warmth, which catches you by surprise for a moment. It's like he already assumed you'd ask. Almost as if it was a given. @@.jordan;"Figured we'd end up in a group anyway,"@@ he adds with a shrug, pushing off the wall. @@.jordan;"We work well together."@@ You smile. @@.player;"Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment."@@ @@.jordan;"Oh, it is,"@@ he says, nudging you lightly with his elbow. @@.jordan;"Your improv is always great. Your acting is impressive, you don't freak out when stuff goes off the rails."@@ You raise a brow. @@.player;"Jordan Brooks is praising me?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"Oh, don't get used to it,"@@ Jordan says, smirking. @@.jordan;"It's a limited-time offer."@@ You roll your eyes. He steps closer, lowering his voice just slightly. @@.jordan;"Honestly, though? I'm glad we're partners for this. Improvising with random people is... complicated. Especially if they don't know the first thing about theater."@@ If there's one thing you know about Jordan, it's that he's selective. He's ''very'' careful with who he lets in. It took time for him to relax around you, and you feel proud of yourself for having earned it. @@.player;"You nervous about the Romeo and Juliet auditions?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"A little, yeah,"@@ he mutters, jaw shifting. @@.jordan;"I want to do well. I really do. The role... it really means everything to me."@@ @@.player;"You're gonna kill it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Seriously."@@ @@.jordan;"You better say that again on audition day,"@@ he says, letting out a quiet laugh. @@.player;"Deal,"@@ you say, bumping shoulders lightly. Jordan glances around the room at the rapidly shrinking pool of available classmates. @@.jordan;"Alright. We need a third before we're stuck with... uh..."@@ He nods at a kid in the corner who is currently wearing a duct-taped wizard robe and shouting into a fake skull. You both stare for a moment. @@.jordan;"Absolutely not,"@@ Jordan whispers. You snort. @@.player;"Okay, yeah. Let's go before all the normal people are taken."@@ He nods, stepping forward. Then he slows down just a little so you walk side by side. It's subtle, but you notice it, and it's very much intentional. You make your way to the corner, where a few unclaimed students stand around awkwardly. It's time to pull in your final teammate before someone else beats you to it. <<else>>\ You stand, brushing some crumbs off your pants from lunch that somehow managed to follow you here, and take a moment to survey the room. Groups are forming fast. //Too// fast. People pairing off with their usual partners, best friends clinging to each other, a few duos desperately waving for a third. You weave through a few clusters, awkwardly dodging a spear someone is already swinging around. You open your mouth to ask one girl if she needs a partner, but she's already being dragged away by two others toward the costume bin. Someone else gives you an apologetic shrug as they have a full group already. Great. This is starting to feel like gym class. You take a slow breath and scan the room more carefully this time. Jordan's perfectly still, perfectly alone, leaning against the edge of a wall like he really couldn't care less whether he gets a group or ends up doing a scene solo. He's got that usual expression on, where he looks half bored and half annoyed. It's like living is just one long list of inconveniences for him. He's still in his varsity jacket, sleeves shoved up to his elbows, hands buried in his pockets. Even from here, you can read the tension in his shoulders, the practiced coolness, the edge in his eyes. It still surprises people that the starting quarterback of all people even takes theater. And even in your shared classes, Jordan never talks much. Except when he does a scene, of course. Then he's suddenly sharper, more expressive, and more alive than he ever is on the field. You hesitate for a second. He's not exactly approachable, to say the least. Especially since you haven't build a relationship. But unfortunately, you need a group and he's standing alone. And for all his coldness, he hasn't been outright rude since your first encounter. Just distant and hard to read. You take a deep breath and walk over. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, trying to sound casual. Jordan glances up at you, his brown eyes flicking over you with that usual unreadable look. @@.jordan;"Hey."@@ There's silence for a few seconds. @@.player;"So..."@@ you gesture vaguely at the forming trios around you, @@.player;"you got a group yet?"@@ He looks at the room, then back at you. @@.jordan;"No."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Want to team up then?"@@ Another short silence. Jordan's expression doesn't shift much. He doesn't seem particularly excited or annoyed. Instead, he just opts to blink slowly before giving the faintest shrug. @@.jordan;"...Yeah. Sure."@@ You suppose that's about as enthusiastic as he's going to get. You exhale quietly. @@.player;"Cool. Great."@@ Jordan pushes off the wall and stands straight. He adjusts his jacket before nodding toward the rest of the room. @@.jordan;"We need a third,"@@ he says, tone flat and minimal. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"Most people are already in groups."@@ @@.jordan;"Figures,"@@ he mutters. @@.jordan;"People always group up fast."@@ You walk side by side, scanning the remaining students. Jordan keeps his hands in his pocket, shoulders hunched slightly like he's trying to take up less space despite his athletic build. He doesn't say much, just moving with quiet confidence. You try for small talk. @@.player;"You excited for Costume Madness?"@@ @@.jordan;"It's fine,"@@ he mutters, barely reacting. @@.player;"That's one word for it."@@ Another shrug. @@.jordan;"I don't mind improv."@@ @@.player;"You like improv?"@@ you ask, surprised. He looks at you briefly. @@.jordan;"I like acting. Doesn't matter if it's improv or scripted. I'll do my best either way."@@ There's a flicker of honesty in his eyes, but it disappears as quickly as it came. Before you can ask anything else, he nods subtly toward a corner where a few students are standing awkwardly, clearly also without a partner. @@.jordan;"We should grab one before they get taken,"@@ he says. @@.player;"Yeah. Right. Good idea."@@ Jordan steps forward and you stand close behind him as you make your way toward the corner, searching for a third. <</if>>\ <<button "Who's the third?" "Day 22 - 10">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D22JessicaTalk">>\ <<if $d22jordanfirst is false>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You stare at them both for a long second, then point across the table. @@.player;"Jessica. You go first."@@ Jordan's lips curve into a satisfied smirk. @@.jessica;"Oh?"@@ Jessica says, blinking. @@.jessica;"Me?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You were the one shouting into the void earlier."@@ Jordan leans back, folding his arms comfortably. @@.jordan;"I agree."@@ Jessica narrows her eyes at him. @@.jessica;"Don't look so pleased."@@ @@.jordan;"I just feel so extremely vindicated,"@@ Jordan says, not even trying to hide how happy he is. She sighs, running a hand through her messy ponytail. @@.jessica;"Okay. Wow. I see how it is."@@ @@.player;"Justice has been served, Jessica,"@@ you say, nodding solemnly. @@.jessica;"I just wanted it on record that Jordan Brooks and $name Yoon pushed this,"@@ she says, gearing up. @@.jessica;"I don't wanna hear any complaints."@@ @@.jordan;"I did push for it,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jessica;"Unbelievable,"@@ Jessica mutters, exhaling sharply. She glances down at the table, then back up. @@.jessica;"Fine, I'll go. But the two of you better listen."@@ <</if>>\ Jessica exhales slowly, like she's bracing herself, then rests her elbows on the table. Her ponytail has slipped even lower now. For most people, it'd be normal, but for Jessica, it's messy. It looks tired, like it's giving up the fight along with her. @@.jessica;"It was my mom,"@@ she says finally. @@.jessica;"Yet again."@@ She says it lightly, but there's an edge underneath. @@.jessica;"She wasn't yelling. She never does, really. She just... nags. About college, and image, and scholarships, and how I should be 'doing more' since I have all their money at my disposal."@@ @@.jessica;"It's kind of impressive, considering I don't even know what 'more' looks like at this point,"@@ Jessica says, letting out a humorless laugh. @@.jessica;"I keep trying to be perfect for them. Straight A's, cheer captain, leader in multiple groups, smiling all the time. I do all this and it never seems to matter."@@ @@.jessica;"They don't really care,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Not in a way that feels real. I think they like the idea of me more than they like... me. They like the prestige that comes with having a successful daughter, but they couldn't care less about me, Jessica."@@ The words hang there for a few seconds. @@.jessica;"They call when they want updates,"@@ she continues. @@.jessica;"They're barely home, after all. I keep thinking maybe if I just do one more thing right, they'll finally fucking notice. Maybe they'll be proud or... I don't know, ask how I'm actually doing."@@ Her mouth twists into a small, tired smile. @@.jessica;"Spoiler alert: they don't."@@ She straightens a little, instinctively trying to pull herself back together, but the effort shows. @@.jessica;"Today was yet another reminder. Another conversation where I hung up and thought, 'Cool. I did all that for nothing. I'm just... exhausted. I put in so much effort, and it feels like it never goes anywhere."@@ She trails off, fingers tightening around the paper soda cup. @@.jessica;"That's it,"@@ Jessica finishes, not even looking at either of you. You and Jordan don't say anything for a few moments. You //know// Clancy's should be loud, but all the noises feel distant. It's as if the three of you are sealed inside your own quiet pocket. Jordan is the first to move. He doesn't joke or insult her like he has been doing. He just leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. @@.jordan;"...Yeah,"@@ he says quietly. @@.jordan;"I get that."@@ Jessica looks at him, surprised. @@.jordan;"My parents don't really care about //me// either,"@@ he continues. @@.jordan;"They care about what I represent."@@ She blinks. You can tell she didn't expect that. @@.jordan;"They've had my life planned out since before I could even spell my name,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"Football family. Dad's a coach, brother's already D1. I'm supposed to be next. The next football player in the Brooks family. That's the version of me they give a shit about."@@ He gives a humorless laugh, same as Jessica. @@.jordan;"When I do well on the field, they're happy. When I don't, it's like I failed some unspoken contract that I never signed. They don't ask what I want. They just assume they already know."@@ He glances at her, but his gaze isn't pitying. Instead, it's... honest. @@.jordan;"So when you said you keep trying to be perfect and it still doesn't land... yeah. That resonated with me."@@ Jessica's shoulders relax a little. You lean in, unable to stay silent anymore. @@.player;"It really sucks,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Because it's clear that you //are// doing so much. Anyone who actually looks can see that, Jessica."@@ @@.jessica;"Apparently everyone but the people who matter,"@@ Jessica says, scoffing weakly. @@.player;"Or,"@@ you say gently, @@.player;"there are more people who care about you and matter to you than you might think."@@ She looks at you now. Her blue eyes are tired, but they're listening. @@.player;"You shouldn't have to earn being cared about from your parents,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Like it's some prize you unlock if you hit enough milestones. That's not really how it's supposed to work."@@ @@.jordan;"Being impressive shouldn't be the price of admission,"@@ Jordan says, nodding in agreement. Jessica presses her lips together, eyes dropping to the table again. @@.jessica;"It just feels stupid sometimes. Like I keep running on a treadmill and asking myself why I'm not getting anywhere."@@ @@.player;"It's not stupid,"@@ you say immediately. @@.player;"It's exhausting. There's a difference."@@ You pause, choosing your words carefully. @@.player;"And for what it's worth, you don't //feel// fake. At least not to me. You feel like someone who's trying really hard and getting worn down by it."@@ Her grip on the cup loosens a little. @@.jordan;"It's okay to be tired of that,"@@ Jordan adds. @@.jordan;"It doesn't mean you failed at all. It just means you're a human being, like the rest of us on this lonely planet."@@ She lets out a slow breath, shoulders sinking back against the booth. @@.jessica;"You guys are really bad at letting me wallow in misery, huh?"@@ You give her a small smile. @@.player;"We try."@@ She laughs softly. @@.jessica;"I hate that you both get it. But... I'm also kind of glad I'm not the only person who feels this way."@@ @@.jordan;"Same,"@@ Jordan says. Jessica straightens up. Her fingers tug her ponytail back up. It's not perfect, still a little loose, but intentional now. @@.jessica;"Thanks,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Really."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Anytime."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan murmurs. @@.jessica;"I'm... really glad we came to Clancy's today,"@@ she says, eyes softer than before. You grin. @@.player;"Grease fixes more than doctors want to admit."@@ She snorts, leaning back fully now. @@.jessica;"Don't tell my mom that."@@ The tension fades. Three people are still at a sticky table, but none of them are pretending quite so hard anymore. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 37">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D22JordanTalk">>\ <<if $d22jordanfirst is true>>\ <<set $jessicaRelo to Math.clamp($jessicaRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You glance between them, then lean back in the booth with a small sigh, lifting your hands in surrender. @@.player;"Alright, fine. If I //have// to choose, Jordan goes first."@@ Jordan freezes. @@.jordan;"...Me?"@@ he asks, genuinely surprised. You nod. @@.player;"Yes, you."@@ Jessica giggles. @@.jessica;"It feels nice to be on the winning side of favoritism."@@ Jordan shoots her a look. @@.jordan;"This is your fault for asking me."@@ @@.jessica;"Hey, I was just curious,"@@ she says. You shrug. @@.player;"Democracy has spoken, Jordan. What can I say?"@@ Jordan straightens in his seat, clearly unprepared for the spotlight. He glances down at the table, then back up again, organizing his thoughts. @@.jessica;"Take your time,"@@ Jessica says, leaning back smugly. @@.jessica;"I'll wait."@@ Jordan exhales slowly, rolling his shoulders once. @@.jordan;"I don't know why this is suddenly a big deal."@@ @@.jessica;"Because you don't talk,"@@ she replies sweetly. @@.jessica;"This is historic."@@ You grin. @@.player;"I kind of want to take a photo and frame the moment."@@ Jordan glares at you briefly. @@.jordan;"I haven't even started talking yet."@@ @@.jessica;"Still, it'll go down as a legendary moment."@@ Jordan finally opens his mouth, he's ready to talk. <</if>>\ @@.jordan;"..$name's heard this a few times now,"@@ he says, not looking at either of you at first. His gaze is fixed on a crumpled wrapper on the tabletop. @@.jordan;"But sure, I'll say it again."@@ He pauses, jaw tightening just slightly, then continues. @@.jordan;"My family's a football family. The type of family where literally nothing matters other than the sport. My dad played D1 in college, and he was really good. He was probably going to make it into the NFL, scouts were lining up. But then he got injured. Blew out his knee. Career over."@@ Jessica shifts as she listens. @@.jordan;"He doesn't talk about it like it ruined it, but everything about him says it did,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"So instead of letting that dream die, //his// dream die, he just passed it down. To my brother and to me."@@ He lets out a humorless laugh. @@.jordan;"Not much of a choice, though. He frames it like destiny. Like it's this great thing he's giving us."@@ Jordan's fingers curl against the edge of the table. @@.jordan;"He's strict and controlled. Always knows exactly what to say to make you feel like you're doing this because //you// want it. But somehow, if you ever push back, you're selfish and ungrateful. He never asks if you want this. He just goes 'after everything I've sacrificed, how could you not?'"@@ @@.jordan;"He goes to every game, but not to cheer me on. He just watches, writing stuff down to chastise me about later. He knows my stats better than I do, all my weaknesses are pinned on the fucking refrigerator. He reminds me of them constantly. Like he's trying to shape me into something that won't fail the way he did."@@ Jordan swallows. @@.jordan;"I didn't even realize I wanted something else until I saw theater,"@@ he says quietly. @@.jordan;"And once I did, it felt like I'd committed some kind of crime just by wanting it."@@ He glances up now, eyes flicking briefly to you, then away again. @@.jordan;"That's why I keep people at a distance. It's easier than explaining why I'm angry and tired all the damn time."@@ His shoulders lift in a small shrug. @@.jordan;"Football, the thing I couldn't care less about, is the only version of me my dad wants. The rest is just... a distraction."@@ Jordan goes quiet after that, words spent. You and Jessica don't say anything for a few moments. You //know// Clancy's should be loud, but all the noises feel distant. It's as if the three of you are sealed inside your own quiet pocket. @@.jessica;"That sounds exhausting, Jordan,"@@ Jessica says simply. Jordan looks up at her, a little surprised. @@.jessica;"Like, not just physically exhausting, although I'm sure football does that,"@@ she continues. @@.jessica;"The kind where it drains at you that you're never allowed to just exist without being something you don't want to be."@@ She lets out a slow breath. @@.jessica;"My parents do that too. Different flavor, yeah, but same energy. They see me as a trophy, and want me to just be their perfect daughter for them to brag about at parties with rich socialites. Everything I do gets filtered through how it looks and how it reflects on them. And if I ever, ever dare to step out of line, it's suddenly about sacrifices and expectations and how much they've 'given me.'"@@ She tilts her head slightly. @@.jessica;"So when you said it never felt like a choice? Yet. I get that."@@ Jordan's shoulders loosen a little. @@.player;"It's messed up,"@@ you say, unable to stay quiet. @@.player;"Because they frame it like they're helping you. Like they know better than you ever could. But it still takes something from you."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah,"@@ Jordan says, nodding. @@.player;"And the worst part, from what I'm seeing, is that they make you feel guilty for wanting anything different,"@@ you add. @@.player;"Like wanting to live your own life is some kind of betrayal."@@ @@.jordan;"That's how I feel,"@@ Jordan says, exhaling quietly. Jessica studies him for a second, then says, @@.jessica;"For what it's worth... I never thought you were just the school quarterback."@@ @@.jordan;"You didn't?"@@ She shakes her head. @@.jessica;"I always thought you seemed guarded. Like you were holding something back on purpose."@@ Jordan lets out a surprised laugh. @@.jordan;"That obvious, huh?"@@ @@.jessica;"Only if you're paying attention,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"That's why I've always tried to talk to you. I was curious."@@ He winces slightly. @@.jordan;"I know. I wasn't great about that."@@ She waves it off. @@.jessica;"I figured there was a reason. And honestly? I'm glad I finally got to hear it from you. It was nice to get to know the real you today."@@ Jordan looks down again, expression thoughtful (and a little overwhelmed) this time. @@.player;"And for what it's worth, you're not ungrateful because you care about theater,"@@ you say, jumping in gently. @@.jordan;"You're both making it harder than it usually is to be emotionally armored,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. @@.jessica;"Good,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Armor's overrated."@@ There's a pause before Jordan exhales, letting his shoulders drop. @@.jordan;"Thanks,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"I appreciate it. Seriously."@@ Jessica smiles. @@.jessica;"Turns out being heard helps."@@ @@.player;"Who knew?"@@ you say, grinning. The tension fades. Three people are still at a sticky table, but none of them are pretending quite so hard anymore. <<button "Continue" "Day 22 - 37">><</button>>

<<set $day to 23>>\ <img src="img/bg/player-bedroomd.png"> Your alarm goes off, but it's loud. Way too fucking loud and way too fucking early. You crack one eye open and immediately regret it. The ceiling looks wrong, too bright and too flat, like it's leaning toward you. Tuesday. It's Tuesday. You know because your phone said Monday last night, and also because your body feels like it's been hit by the full emotional weight of yet another school day. You groan and roll onto your side, burying half your face into the pillow. You're tired in a way that doesn't make sense. Not in the usual way, when you stay up too late, but the kind of tired where your very bones feel heavy. You squint at your phone and see that it's 7 a.m. You hit snooze. The alarm stops, blessedly, and the silence stretches out. Your brain immediately tries to drift, like a boat cutting its rope and floating off into the mysterious fog. You almost let it. Almost. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there's a pathetic voice whimpering, reminding you that you have to get up. @@.player;"Missing school is bad!"@@ it laments. You blink again. There's... fur on your bed. You stare at it for a second, unbothered in the way only extreme exhaustion allows for. But there //is// fur. Golden fur. Right there, next to your arm. You slowly turn your head. Luke is sitting on your bed. The issue is that instead of being a tall ginger, he's a golden retriever. Like, an actual dog. Big, fluffy, stupidly friendly golden retriever. His tongue is out and his tail thumps against your mattress like it's the best day of his life. @@.luke;"Morning, dude!"@@ Dog-Luke says, in Luke's exact voice. He's cheerful and loud and completely unconcerned by the fact that dogs aren't meant to speak. @@.luke;"You gonna get up or what?"@@ You blink a couple of times. @@.player;"...okay,"@@ you mumble. @@.player;"That tracks, I guess."@@ Dog-Luke tilts his head, his ears flopping dramatically. @@.luke;"You look like crap, man,"@@ he adds. @@.luke;"Did you forget to sleep again?"@@ @@.player;"I slept,"@@ you say into your pillow. @@.player;"At least I think I did. I was in bed for at least eight hours."@@ @@.luke;"That doesn't count if your brain never shuts up,"@@ Dog-Luke replies. He flops onto his side, paws kicking lazily. @@.luke;"Also, you hit snooze. That's a bad sign. When I hit snooze, I know I'm not getting to school that day."@@ Before you can respond, there's a sharp thump from the foot of the bed. A tabby cat is sitting there, tail wrapped neatly around her body. She's wearing a beanie and staring at you like you're the dumbest creature she's ever had the misfortune of observing. It's Samantha. Obviously. She flicks her tail. @@.samantha;"Wow,"@@ Cat-Samantha says dryly. @@.samantha;"You look even worse than I expected. That's impressive."@@ You squint at her. @@.player;"You're a cat."@@ @@.samantha;"Congratulations,"@@ she replies. @@.samantha;"You actually noticed. More perceptive than usual, to be honest."@@ Dog-Luke grins. @@.luke;"I think it's an improvement!"@@ he says. @@.luke;"But you are way scarier like this."@@ @@.samantha;"Good,"@@ Cat-Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Fear is respect, Luke."@@ You let out a weak laugh that ends up turning into a yawn halfway through. Your head feels floaty, like it's not fully attached to your body or something. The room wobbles gently, as if it's breathing with you. @@.player;"I'm ''really'' tired,"@@ you mumble. @@.samantha;"Yeah, no kidding,"@@ Samantha says. She hops closer, lying on your chest and claiming it as her territory. @@.samantha;"You've hit that special level of exhaustion where your brain gives up and starts freelancing."@@ Dog-Luke's tail thumps harder. @@.luke;"Oh! Is that why he's hallucinating us as animals? That's awesome, dude!"@@ @@.player;"This is most definitely not awesome,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I have school."@@ @@.samantha;"You //had// school,"@@ Samantha corrects. @@.samantha;"Past tense. Hate to break it to you, but you're not making it."@@ You frown. @@.player;"I can still get up."@@ @@.luke;"Sure,"@@ Luke says, tail wagging. @@.luke;"And I can bench 350 pounds."@@ You try to sit up, but your body disagrees. The effort feels enormous, like pushing against the gravity on Jupiter. You make it halfway before your arms give out, and you flop back onto the mattress. The ceiling swims, the room tilts, and you end up closing your eyes again. Dog-Luke winces. @@.luke;"Oof. Yeah, no. That was rough."@@ @@.samantha;"Pathetic,"@@ Samantha says fondly. Your phone buzzes again with a second alarm. 7:05 AM. You groan and smack the snooze button again without even opening your eyes this time. The sound stops, sure, but the vibration lingers in your skull. @@.player;"I swear I'm not usually like this, you guys,"@@ you mumble. @@.luke;"That's what everyone says right before they faceplant,"@@ Luke replies. Samantha climbs higher, hopping onto your shoulder now. She curls up there like she owns you. @@.samantha;"You //have// been doing a lot,"@@ she says, tone soft. @@.samantha;"Thinking and talking and feeling."@@ You crack an eye open to look at her. @@.player;"Are you... comforting me?"@@ @@.samantha;"Don't get used to it,"@@ she snaps. @@.samantha;"I'm still a cat, and I will scratch the shit out of you if you move."@@ Dog-Luke whimpers in fear. You close your eyes again. Your thoughts drift in weird loops. Half-formed ideas, bits of conversations from yesterday, flashes of faces and laughter and warmth. It all blurs together. Then, the alarm goes off again. 7:10 AM. Third alarm. Dog-Luke barks at it. @@.luke;"Dude! Shut up! Rude!"@@ You barely manage to silence it. Your hand feels disconnected, like it belongs to someone else. When the noise stops, the quiet feels even thicker than before. @@.player;"I think I'm dying,"@@ you say faintly. @@.samantha;"Nope,"@@ Samantha replies. @@.samantha;"Just Tuesday."@@ Time passes. Or maybe it doesn't. It's a bit hard to tell. 7:15 AM. Fourth alarm. This one feels personal. Like your phone is judging you. Dog-Luke nudges your arm with his (wet) nose. @@.luke;"You sure you don't want to at least //try//? We can walk to school together as always. I'm very supportive, you know."@@ @@.player;"I can't,"@@ you whisper. Your limbs feel glued down to the mattress. @@.player;"I'm so tired."@@ Samantha stretches, claws flexing. @@.samantha;"Then don't."@@ @@.player;"But—"@@ @@.samantha;"$name,"@@ she says, voice unusually firm. @@.samantha;"You're exhausted. Just rest. Fuck it, right?"@@ Your chest tightens a little. 7:20 AM. Fifth alarm. It rings and rings and rings and rings and rings. But you don't move. The sound fades into something distant, like it's happening underwater. Your breathing evens out. The room stops wobbling, and you feel comfortable. Dog-Luke curls up beside you, warm and solid. @@.luke;"Guess we'll let him sleep,"@@ he murmurs. Samantha curls closer to your neck. @@.samantha;"Finally."@@ Your thoughts slip into darkness, and you fall asleep. <<button "Sleep Time" "Day 23 - 2">><</button>>

How the fuck do you even react to that? You're still staring at the sketchbook, eyes flicking between the three drawings like they might rearrange themselves if you look long enough. The longer you look, the worse it gets. The lore, the composition, and the fact that she somehow managed to give all three of you matching vibes without making you look like the same person. @@.player;"...Okay,"@@ you say finally. @@.player;"I have several questions."@@ Macy clasps her hands together, delighted. @@.macy;"I have answers."@@ Jasper points at his own drawing. @@.jasper;"Why do I look like I punch gods for a living?"@@ @@.macy;"Because you absolutely do,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"In addition to that, you build weapons out of scrap metal and unresolved feelings."@@ @@.jasper;"That's amazing,"@@ Jasper says, pleased. Vincent is still staring into space, blinking like he's trying to wake up from a trippy dream. @@.vincent;"Why do I look like I'm about to die for a secret?"@@ he asks carefully. @@.macy;"Because you //will//,"@@ Macy replies immediately. Vincent's eyes widen. @@.vincent;"I-I will?"@@ @@.macy;"Yes,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"But not permanently, of course. Probably."@@ @@.vincent;"That does not make me feel better."@@ @@.macy;"You're the emotional backbone of the story,"@@ she continues, flipping the page back to his drawing. @@.macy;"You're the one who knows the prophecy, but you don't tell $name right away because you're trying to protect him."@@ You lift your head. @@.player;"Protect me from what, exactly?"@@ @@.macy;"From the fact that the relic only activates if you're willing to lose something important."@@ Jasper groans. @@.jasper;"Oh, that's messed up."@@ @@.macy;"Oh, I know,"@@ Macy says proudly. You rub your face. @@.player;"Why do I have to be the one to activate the relic?"@@ @@.macy;"Because you're from another world,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"You don't belong here, so the magic listens to you differently."@@ @@.vincent;"Alright,"@@ Vincent says, nodding slowly. @@.vincent;"That actually makes sense."@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"You're agreeing with her?"@@ @@.vincent;"Well, she is very convincing,"@@ he admits. Macy flips to another page you didn't even notice until now. @@.macy;"Also, there's a political subplot."@@ Jasper chokes. @@.jasper;"Of course there is."@@ @@.macy;"The empire is corrupt, but the rebellion doesn't trust outsiders,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"Jasper especially doesn't trust anyone. Vincent trusts knowledge more than people. Yet, $name keeps accidentally making people care."@@ You groan. @@.player;"Man, that sounds exhausting."@@ @@.macy;"That's the appeal,"@@ she says. Jasper laughs, shaking his head. @@.jasper;"How did you come up with all of this in, like, fifteen minutes?"@@ @@.macy;"Hmm, I guess it's a talent!"@@ Macy exclaims, shrugging. @@.macy;"It just comes to mind."@@ You lean back in your chair, overwhelmed but impressed. @@.player;"So in your version, do I end up with either of them or—?"@@ @@.macy;"Ah,"@@ Macy says, wagging a finger. @@.macy;"Now that depends, my little $name."@@ @@.vincent;"He's way taller than you, though,"@@ Vincent murmurs, inaudible to everyone but you. @@.jasper;"What is it, Macy?"@@ Jasper asks. @@.macy;"There are multiple routes!"@@ she says, clapping her hands. @@.macy;"Isn't that cool?"@@ Vincent squeaks. @@.vincent;"Routes?"@@ @@.macy;"Good ending, bad ending, bittersweet ending,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"Also a secret ending where everyone survives but they're emotionally scarred."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"That just sounds like life, though."@@ @@.macy;"Exactly."@@ Jasper wipes his eyes like he's laughing too hard. @@.jasper;"I can't believe you turned art class into a full visual novel pitch."@@ Ms. Delgado passes by another table nearby, pausing just long enough to say, @@.girl;"Remember, sharing time, not full adaptations."@@ Macy nods politely. @@.macy;"Of course, Ms. Delgado."@@ The second she's out of earshot, she goes, @@.macy;"Anyway, there's also a scene where—"@@ @@.player;"WAIT,"@@ you interrupt, holding up both hands. @@.player;"Before you add another arc—"@@ She pauses, genuinely attentive. @@.player;"Are you actually going to make this?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Like draw it? Write it? Something?"@@ Macy doesn't even hesitate. @@.macy;"Nope!"@@ There's a beat of silence as you process what she just said. @@.player;"...What?"@@ She shrugs, completely unbothered. @@.macy;"I've done this, like, a thousand times now. I come up with entire masterpieces in my head and then never touch them again."@@ Jasper bursts out laughing. @@.jasper;"Trust me, I've seen it."@@ Vincent exhales, half relieved, half disappointed. @@.vincent;"I was already stressed out about my character dying."@@ @@.macy;"Oh, he still dies,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"It just won't be on paper."@@ You laugh, shaking your head. @@.player;"That's evil."@@ @@.macy;"The ideas live on, at least in my soul,"@@ she says cheerfully. Jasper closes his sketchbook with a decisive thump. @@.jasper;"Alright. After that, I feel morally obligated to show mine."@@ Macy gasps again, instantly refocused. @@.macy;"YES."@@ Vincent straightens, bracing himself for chaos. You lean forward as well, curious and a little wary. Time to see what Jasper did. <<button "Jaspuh" "Day 23 - 11">><</button>>

Jasper doesn't rush this. He flips his sketchbook shut for a second, resting his palm on the cover like he's building suspense on purpose. There's a different energy to him. He's still relaxed and smiling, sure, but he's quieter. @@.jasper;"Alright,"@@ he says. @@.jasper;"I tried not to go full yaoi anime style like Macy."@@ @@.macy;"Rude,"@@ Macy says immediately. @@.jasper;"But, like the weeb I am, I did go anime,"@@ he adds. That gets your attention. He turns the sketchbook toward Vincent first. Vincent freezes so completely you're not sure if he's still breathing or not. The drawing is sharp with clean lines. It's stylized and definitely anime, but not the kind you usually see. It looks like something out of a darker anime, something for adults. Like Cowboy BeepBoop, exactly that kind of restrained cool. Vincent is drawn as a Formula 1 driver. But not a goofy or a cartoony one, a //badass// one. He's wearing a racing suit with bold shapes and clean panels, helmet tucked under one arm, the other hand resting casually on his hip. His posture is confident, like he knows he's good at what he does. His expression is calm and focused with sharp eyes behind his glasses. Jasper keeps them, but stylizes them to look sharp instead of nerdy. Vincent stares. @@.vincent;"That's... not..."@@ He swallows. @@.vincent;"That's not what I look like."@@ Jasper shrugs. @@.jasper;"That's what you feel like."@@ Macy huffs. @@.macy;"WHY is he hot?"@@ Vincent makes a small, broken noise. @@.vincent;"I look like I win championships."@@ @@.jasper;"You do,"@@ Jasper says simply. Vincent doesn't even know what to say to that. He just keeps looking, eyes wide, like the idea itself is fucking with his brain. Then Jasper flips to the next page, and there's you. The drawing hits different immediately. You're a mecha pilot. Not a bulky, masculine, or armored up one. You're slim, delicate, and wearing a skin-tight pilot suit with tech panels glowing along the seams. The suit hugs your body in a feminine way. Your hair frames your face softly and your expression is serious. Your eyes are focused forward like you're bracing yourself for something enormous. Behind you looms the mecha. It's not fully detailed, but enough to suggest scale and power. You're important, you're the one who makes it powerful. You blink. @@.player;"...Jasper."@@ He glances at you. @@.jasper;"Is it too much?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"I look like I have trauma."@@ @@.jasper;"Well, you //are// a mecha pilot,"@@ Jasper replies. Macy squints at the page. @@.macy;"Why is he so pretty."@@ Jasper smirks. @@.jasper;"Because the universe is cruel."@@ Then Macy practically vibrates out of her chair. @@.macy;"OKAY OKAY OKAY ME ME ME ME ME!"@@ Jasper smiles, but it's... michievous. He flips the page. Macy gasps like she's been stabbed. On the page is a rat. A big, round, and lumpy one. It's sitting hunched over with tiny hands clasped together like it's scheming. Its fur is scraggly, its eyes are beady, and two enormous buck teeth jut out from its mouth. On its head is a pink wig. Not even a good one. Slightly crooked and drawing in a few seconds. The rat is wearing an oversized hoodie that barely fits its body, sleeves dragging on the ground. There are manga volumes scattered everywhere around it, some open, some chewed on. Little hearts float in the air. One speech bubble reads: @@.macy;"TRUST ME, THEY'RE IN LOVE"@@ Macy stares for a long time. Then screams. @@.macy;"JASPER!"@@ Jasper loses it. Laughing so hard he has to brace himself on the table. @@.jasper;"TELL ME I'M WRONG."@@ @@.vincent;"You're not,"@@ Vincent says. @@.player;"You're ''really'' not,"@@ you echo. @@.macy;"You made me a RAT."@@ Macy says. @@.jasper;"A passionate rat,"@@ Jasper replies. @@.macy;"A ''FAT'' RAT."@@ @@.jasper;"You can't say that word anymore. You are a well-fed plus-sized rat."@@ Vincent is trying not to laugh, but failing catastrophically. @@.macy;"I TRUSTED YOU JASPER,"@@ Macy wails, grabbing the sketchbook and holding it closer. @@.macy;"This is slander."@@ @@.jasper;"You bully me daily. I'm just paying you back."@@ Macy looks at the drawing again and pauses. @@.macy;"...Why is it kind of good?"@@ Jasper bows his head slightly. @@.jasper;"Because I'm an artist."@@ Ms. Delgado's voice drifts over the room again, gently reminding everyone to keep rotating. Vincent straightens, still smiling, still a little shaken. @@.vincent;"Alright,"@@ he says softly. @@.vincent;"I guess it's my turn, now."@@ You lean back in your chair, heart still buzzing a little. Yeah. You're very ready to see what Vincent did. <<button "Vincent Art!" "Day 23 - 12">>\<</button>>

Vincent hesitates before opening his sketchbook. He's not dramatic about it, but it's clear he's nervous. He adjusts his glasses once, then once more, then finally flips the cover open and turns it so the rest of you can see. @@.vincent;"I, um,"@@ he starts, then clears his throat. @@.vincent;"I kind of... stuck to a theme."@@ Macy perks up immediately. @@.macy;"Oh! That's cool! Is it tragic?"@@ @@.vincent;"It's historical,"@@ Vincent says apologetically. @@.vincent;"Which might be tragic if you don't find it interesting like I do."@@ @@.jasper;"Hit us,"@@ Jasper says. Vincent turns the sketchbook toward Macy first, and the art is beautiful. Macy is drawn as a duchess. She's seated in three-quarter profile, and has elegant posture and a slightly lifted chin. Her dress is elaborate, clearly ''very'' expensive, with flowing sleeves and layered fabric. Vincent didn't have time to render every detail, there was only five minutes, but he's able to imply texture with subtle details. Her hair is styled up and her expression is sharp but observant. In a way, it's almost mischievous, like the real Macy. Maybe she knows exactly what power she holds and enjoys it. Macy stares. @@.macy;"Oh my God,"@@ she says slowly, grinning. @@.macy;"I love it. Why do I look like I ruin men politically?"@@ Vincent blushes. @@.vincent;"I... thought it fit?"@@ Jasper snorts. @@.jasper;"Yeah, it absolutely does."@@ @@.macy;"I look like I poison people,"@@ Macy says, pressing a hand to her chest. @@.jasper;"You //would//,"@@ Jasper says. Macy doesn't even argue with that, she knows it's true. She instead leans closer, squinting at the details. @@.macy;"Wait. You gave me rings."@@ @@.vincent;"Yes,"@@ Vincent says quickly. @@.vincent;"They're symbolic. They show off your lineage."@@ @@.macy;"I have //lore//,"@@ Macy whispers. Vincent smiles, proud of himself, then carefully flips the page. @@.vincent;"This one is Jasper."@@ Jasper straightens. The shift in tone is immediate. Jasper is standing, body angled forward like he's mid-stride. He's wearing a military uniform that looks to be inspired by Central American revolutionary generals. He has a structured jacket with a big sash crossing his chest, tall boots planted firmly on the ground. His face is strong and serious, with his eyes focused forward. One hand rests near the hilt of a sword. It's clear General Jasper is ready for anything. @@.jasper;"Damn,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"I look so fucking cool."@@ @@.macy;"He ain't actually that cool,"@@ Macy says. @@.jasper;"I look like I believe in some great cause,"@@ Jasper says, chuckling. @@.vincent;"Maybe you do,"@@ Vincent says. Jasper studies the drawing for a few seconds before nodding. @@.jasper;"This is really good, man."@@ Vincent ducks his head, ears pink. @@.vincent;"Thank you."@@ Macy is still staring between both pages. @@.macy;"Why are you secretly amazing at this, Vincent. Why the hell were you in an AP class with these art skills?"@@ @@.vincent;"I'm not secret about it,"@@ Vincent says, defending himself weakly. @@.vincent;"I just... don't usually show people."@@ @@.jasper;"Well,"@@ Jasper says, tapping the table lightly, @@.jasper;"that was evidently a mistake."@@ Vincent swallows, then flips the page again. @@.vincent;"...Okay,"@@ he says, voice quieter now. @@.vincent;"Um. This last one is $name."@@ He pauses, fingers resting on the edge of the paper. Finally, he gathers the confidence to just turn the sketchbook toward you. <<if $vincentRomance > 9>>\ <<grantAchievement "D23VincentDraw2">>\ You can see how nervous Vincent is even in the way his fingers linger on the edge of the paper after he turns it. In how he takes a breath that's just a little too deep, like he's steadying himself. His ears are already pink. @@.vincent;"...Okay,"@@ he says softly. @@.vincent;"Um. This one's yours."@@ You're drawn as Korean royalty, but not the distant, formal kind like many historical portraits. Instead, this version of you looks alive. The robes are traditional, inspired by royal hanbok, but Vincent has softened everything. The layers are lighter and less rigid. The clothing isn't overtly masculine or feminine, instead lying somewhere in between. It's as if the clothes were made specifically for you and no one else. Your expression is... Well, you're laughing. Not posed or polite, just caught mid-moment. Your head is tilted slightly, your eyes are bright, and your mouth is open in a real smile. Like someone said something genuinely funny and you didn't have time to hide your reaction or act the way a royal should. Vincent watches your face the whole time, clearly bracing himself. @@.vincent;"I—"@@ he starts, then stops. @@.vincent;"I didn't mean to make too, um, you know—"@@ He gestures vaguely, flustered. @@.vincent;"It's just that when I think of you, I don't think of you being serious all the time."@@ He laughs softly at himself, rubbing the back of his neck. @@.vincent;"You always say things that catch me off guard. Or you make jokes when I'm nervous. And then I forget I was nervous and freaking out just a few seconds ago, because I'm laughing too hard."@@ His voice gets quieter. @@.vincent;"So, well, I drew you like that. Because that's... how you feel. To me."@@ The admission hangs there. Macy notices immediately. She presses both hands to her mouth, eyes sparkling. @@.macy;"Oh my God."@@ Jasper leans back, folding his arms with a knowing grin. @@.jasper;"Oh, alright. That explains a lot."@@ Vincent's face goes fully red. @@.vincent;"I... I didn't mean... I mean, I did mean... I just—"@@ @@.player;"Vincent, it's ''really'' good,"@@ you say gently before he can spiral. He looks at you, hopeful and terrified all at once. @@.vincent;"Do you like it?"@@ @@.player;"I love it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I look... happy."@@ He smiles, and it's completely unguarded. It's the kind of smile that looks like it doesn't happen very often, but means everything when it does. @@.vincent;"I'm glad,"@@ he says softly. @@.vincent;"That was the goal."@@ Macy is vibrating again, whisper-screaming, @@.macy;"THIS IS SO CUTE I'M GOING TO DIE!!!"@@ Jasper laughs under his breath. @@.jasper;"First crush behavior,"@@ he murmurs. Vincent hears that and immediately looks like he might combust. @@.vincent;"I... I mean—"@@ he stammers, then gives up, ducking his head with a quiet laugh. @@.vincent;"Sorry."@@ The drawing is so sweet and thoughtful you can't help but smile. <<elseif $vincentRelo > 19>>\ <<grantAchievement "D23VincentDraw1">>\ @@.vincent;"...Okay,"@@ he says, adjusting his glasses once. @@.vincent;"This one's yours."@@ He flips the sketchbook around. You're drawn as Korean royalty, but it feels gentle. The clothing is traditional, inspired by royal hanbok, but Vincent's softened a little. The layers are light and flowing, the lines loose, the sleeves soft. The outfit sits right in between masculinity and femininity. Elegant, androgynous, and understated. There's no crown. Just a simple headpiece resting lightly in your hair, which is half-tied back. Nothing stiff or formal for the sake of it. What strikes you is that your expression is just... //calm//. You're not smiling widely or glaring seriously. It's just a soft, relaxed look, eyes slightly curved, mouth threatening to break out into a smile at any second. The kind of expression someone has when they're present and listening. Vincent watches you look at it, then speaks, a little more confident now. @@.vincent;"I drew you like that because you're... steady,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Whenever I start freaking out, you're always just there for me."@@ He gives a small, self-conscious laugh. @@.vincent;"Like earlier. When I was sitting in this very seat and my brain was doing that stupid thing where it convinces me I made a terrible life decision."@@ @@.macy;"Relatable,"@@ Macy says, nodding sagely. @@.vincent;"You didn't even say anything profound,"@@ Vincent continues. @@.vincent;"You just talked to me like it was normal, like //I// was normal. And then it felt normal."@@ He gestures vaguely at the drawing. @@.vincent;"So I thought that if you were a royal, you wouldn't be the scary, intimidating kind. You'd be the kind people go to when things are overwhelming."@@ Jasper smiles, softer than usual. @@.jasper;"The one that tells you everything's going to be okay."@@ Vincent brightens a little at that. @@.vincent;"Yeah, exactly."@@ @@.player;"I like it,"@@ you say honestly. @@.player;"It feels peaceful."@@ Vincent lets out a relieved breath and smiles. @@.vincent;"I'm glad. I was worried it might be boring."@@ @@.player;"It's not,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"It feels like how you see me."@@ He nods, clearly pleased. @@.vincent;"That's what I was hoping for."@@ <<else>>\ <<grantAchievement "D23VincentDraw0">>\ @@.vincent;"...Okay,"@@ Vincent says carefully. @@.vincent;"So. Um. This one was harder."@@ Jasper raises an eyebrow but doesn't interrupt. Macy tilts her head, confused. @@.vincent;"This one was harder because I didn't really know what direction to go in,"@@ he admits, a little sheepish. @@.vincent;"We haven't really talked all that much. So I kind of went with something more... general?"@@ You're drawn as a historical Korean prince. You're standing in formal robes, long and layered, the lines simplified to save time but still elegant. Vincent's clearly referenced traditional portraits, giving you wide sleeves, hanbok-inspired layers, and a subtle pattern. Your posture is upright, dignified, and calm. Your expression is neutral. Not cold or warm, just composed. Your hair is pulled back neatly, tied in a way that suggests you're part of a noble family. No crown or headpiece. The drawing isn't //bad//. It's amazing, actually. But the best word you can give to describe it is that it's safe. Vincent watches your reaction immediately, clearly nervous again. @@.vincent;"I-I didn't want to assume too much,"@@ he says carefully. @@.vincent;"So I thought history would be... appropriate? And I knew you're Korean, so—"@@ Macy squints at the drawing. @@.macy;"He looks like he's about to attend a very important meeting."@@ @@.jasper;"Or quietly judge everyone in the room,"@@ Jasper says. Vincent winces. @@.vincent;"Is that bad?"@@ @@.player;"No, not at all,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's just... very formal."@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah, that makes sense,"@@ Vincent says, relieved that you're not upset. @@.vincent;"I didn't want to project anything that wasn't there, so I figured dignified was safer."@@ You study the drawing a bit longer. It's good, very well-constructed, but distant. You guess it doesn't feel wrong, as you don't know Vincent too well. @@.macy;"You made $name into an NPC prince,"@@ Macy says, resting her chin in her hands. Vincent gasps. @@.vincent;"I did ''not'' mean to do that!"@@ @@.player;"It's okay,"@@ you say, half-smiling. @@.player;"It //is// kind of accurate, after all."@@ He lets out a small, relieved laugh. @@.vincent;"Well, I'm glad you don't hate it."@@ @@.player;"I don't,"@@ you say honestly. @@.player;"It feels like a good first impression."@@ Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"Yeah. That's probably exactly what it is."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Vincent has shared" "Day 23 - 13">>\<</button>>

Macy is the one who notices first. She's vibrating, still riding the high from Vincent's drawings, when her eyes flick around the table, mentally checking things off. Jasper. Vincent. Herself. She pauses, head tilting slowly, like she just had an epiphany. @@.macy;"...Wait."@@ Your spine locks up. Macy's gaze slides to you. her eyes widen with dawning horror and delight. @@.macy;"Oh. My. God."@@ No. No no no. @@.macy;"It's $name's turn!"@@ Your brain immediately initiates emergency evacuation procedures. @@.player;"What? No it isn't,"@@ you say too fast. @@.player;"We already did the sharing."@@ @@.jasper;"Yeah,"@@ Jasper says, blinking. @@.jasper;"Everyone else did."@@ @@.player;"I did it first, don't you remember?"@@ you say desperately. @@.macy;"I went first,"@@ Macy states. @@.macy;"So don't even try."@@ @@.player;"Okay, fine, I haven't shared yet,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"But... that doesn't mean //I// have to. Three-fourths is the majority. That means that statistically, we're done."@@ @@.vincent;"I'm pretty sure that means it's your turn,"@@ Vincent quietly adds. You're already scooting your chair back. @@.player;"Okay, actually, I just realized something,"@@ you say, standing halfway up. @@.player;"I need to go to the bathroom bad, like, right now. This is a medical emergency."@@ Macy slams both hands on the table. @@.macy;"YOU ABSOLUTELY DO NOT."@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"You were fine thirty seconds ago."@@ @@.player;"That was before the anxiety hit,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's delayed onset, you see. My doctor mentioned it. I can show you the note next class."@@ Vincent frowns a little, concerned. @@.vincent;"Are you actually feeling sick?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"But I //could// be. Any second now."@@ Macy reaches across the table and grabs the edge of your sketchbook before you can fully lift it. @@.macy;"$name. Sit. Down."@@ @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say, tugging weakly. @@.player;"That's private."@@ @@.macy;"You literally just drew us,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"Reciprocity."@@ @@.player;"I drew badly,"@@ you protest. @@.player;"That's different."@@ Jasper leans back in his chair, arms folded, clearly entertained. @@.jasper;"Have we ever seen your art yet?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"And you never will."@@ Vincent tilts his head. @@.vincent;"Why not?"@@ @@.player;"Because,"@@ you say, gesturing vaguely in the air, @@.player;"you've all just demonstrated what 'good' looks like. And I am... not that."@@ Macy squints. @@.macy;"That's not a reason."@@ @@.player;"It's a very good reason,"@@ you insist. @@.player;"You're all experienced. Like, 'been doing this for years' experienced. I just started this semester. I don't know what the hell I'm even doing most of the time."@@ @@.vincent;"That's normal,"@@ Vincent says gently. @@.player;"No,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Normal is whatever Macy did. Normal is whatever Jasper did. Normal is whatever you did. I draw stick figures and boxes."@@ @@.jasper;"That's cool, though,"@@ Jasper says, pointing at you. @@.player;"That is not."@@ You try another angle. @@.player;"Okay, what if I go get water first. Hydration is important."@@ @@.jasper;"You have a water bottle right there,"@@ Jasper says, pointing at your backpack. @@.player;"That's old water."@@ Vincent suppresses a smile. @@.vincent;"You're trying very hard not to do this."@@ You sink back into your chair with a groan, rubbing your face. @@.player;"You don't understand. You haven't seen my stuff. It's embarrassing."@@ Macy leans forward, softer now but still relentless. @@.macy;"The fact that we haven't seen it is the whole point."@@ Jasper nods. @@.jasper;"Yeah. You've seen ours. It's only fair."@@ Vincent hesitates, then speaks up more firmly than before. @@.vincent;"And... I actually want to see."@@ You look at him. He adjusts his glasses, clearly choosing his words carefully. @@.vincent;"Not because I think it'll be amazing or anything, though it might be, but because it's yours. And... you don't need to be good for it to matter."@@ @@.player;"That is ''such'' a Vincent thing to say,"@@ you mutter. He smiles a little. @@.vincent;"I know."@@ You glance down at your sketchbook again. Your heart is thumping very fast now, the kind of nervous that crawls all the way up to your throat. @@.player;"What if you hate it?"@@ @@.macy;"We won't,"@@ Macy says immediately. Jasper shrugs. @@.jasper;"And if we do, we'll be nice about it."@@ @@.player;"That is ''not'' reassuring."@@ Vincent leans forward slightly, voice calm and earnest. @@.vincent;"You don't have to perform. You can just show what you did. That's all you have to do."@@ Every instinct you have is telling you to bolt, but instead, you exhale slowly. @@.player;"I hate that you're all being reasonable,"@@ you say. Macy grins. @@.macy;"We know."@@ Jasper chuckles. @@.jasper;"So?"@@ You grip your sketchbook. @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you say. <<button "Now it's time for you" "Day 23 - 14">>\<</button>>

<<if $d23macy is 0>>\ You very carefully flip your sketchbook around and slide it into the center of the table. The drawing featured is Macy as an anime protagonist. For half a second, no one says anything. Then Macy gasps. A full-on sharp exhale, hands flying to her mouth, chair screeching slightly as she lunges closer. @@.macy;"WAIT."@@ She squints, leans in, then squints harder. @@.macy;"...IS THAT ME?"@@ Jasper cranes his neck. @@.jasper;"Oh my God. It is."@@ Vincent peers over too, eyes widening. @@.vincent;"You drew her as an anime protagonist."@@ Macy straightens up super fast. @@.macy;"I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO BE IN AN ANIME!"@@ @@.player;"Okay, that's good,"@@ you say, relaxing a little. @@.player;"Because that's what I was going for."@@ She grabs the edge of your sketchbook, holding it like it might escape if she lets it out of her grasp. @@.macy;"Look at the eyes. Look at the sparkles. I look like I'm about to trip and accidentally change everyone's life because I'm just so charming."@@ @@.jasper;"As if,"@@ Jasper says, snorting. @@.jasper;"Why are her legs so long? She's ''really'' not that tall."@@ @@.macy;"Shut up,"@@ Macy says without looking away. @@.macy;"That's anime perspective."@@ @@.vincent;"You even gave her the toast-running pose,"@@ Vincent says, tilting his head and smiling. @@.macy;"Not to mention the manga,"@@ Macy adds reverently. @@.macy;"THE YAOI."@@ You nod. @@.player;"That part felt very important."@@ Macy presses both hands to her chest. @@.macy;"This is perfect. This is exactly how I see myself in my head."@@ Then she pauses. @@.macy;"Actually, I don't wanna be the protagonist."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.macy;"I mean,"@@ she says, gesturing wildly, @@.macy;"if I'm the protagonist, that means the plot revolves around //me// falling in love with a guy."@@ Jasper raises an eyebrow. @@.jasper;"Isn't that a good thing?"@@ @@.macy;"NO!"@@ Macy says firmly. @@.macy;"I don't want that. I don't want to date the guy."@@ Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"You don't?"@@ @@.macy;"No,"@@ she says, dead serious. @@.macy;"I want to be the best friend."@@ @@.player;"The... best friend,"@@ you repeat. @@.macy;"Oh yes,"@@ she continues, warming up. @@.macy;"The one that lives for the drama. The one who's like, 'Oh my God, you're both idiots, just hold hands already.'"@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"So you want to be the matchmaker."@@ @@.macy;"EXACTLY,"@@ Macy says, pointing at him like he's finally caught up. @@.macy;"I want to matchmake two cute guys into dating each other. That's the dream. That's the life."@@ Vincent chokes a little, unable to hold in his laugh. @@.vincent;"That's... very specific, don't you think?"@@ @@.macy;"I know it is,"@@ Macy beams. @@.player;"So you're still happy with being the anime version of yourself?"@@ you ask, glancing back at the drawing. @@.macy;"Oh absolutely,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"I just want to be the chaotic support character in a boys' love."@@ @@.vincent;"That tracks,"@@ Vincent murmurs, looking amused. @@.vincent;"I like that you look so happy in it."@@ @@.macy;"I'd be ''so'' happy if I was in a yaoi anime,"@@ Macy says at full volume. @@.macy;"Not to mention the title? 'She Has Too Many Feelings'? That's literally my autobiography, dude."@@ You laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. @@.player;"I wasn't sure if that was too much."@@ @@.macy;"No,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"If anything, it's not enough."@@ @@.jasper;"You look like you radiate emotional damage,"@@ Jasper says, pointing at the hearts floating around her head. @@.macy;"AS I SHOULD."@@ Vincent glances at you. @@.vincent;"I think it's really cute."@@ You feel your face heat up. @@.player;"Thanks. It's... not very good."@@ @@.jasper;"Nah, it's plenty good,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"Plus, it's got personality. That matters."@@ Macy finally lets go of the sketchbook, sitting back up with a satisfied sigh. @@.macy;"Okay. I love it. Ten out of ten. I would absolutely want to be a part of this anime."@@ <<elseif $d23macy is 1>>\ You take a few deep breaths before finally flipping your sketchbook around, pushing it into the middle of the table like you're offering up evidence in a trial. @@.player;"I just want to say,"@@ you start carefully, already wincing, @@.player;"that this one came from a place of affection."@@ Macy leans forward immediately, eyes narrowing. @@.macy;"Why would you preface it like that?"@@ You don't answer, instead letting the drawing speak for itself. There, in all its chaotic glory, is the yaoi gremlin. Macy stares at it for a long moment where you don't count a single blink before looking up at you. @@.macy;"...That is ''not'' me."@@ Jasper has already leaned in, laughter bubbling up before he can stop it. @@.jasper;"Oh my God. That's absolutely you."@@ Macy spins on him. @@.macy;"DO NOT encourage this."@@ You hold your hands up defensively. @@.player;"In my defense, Ms. Delgado is the one who said to aim for vibes. And aim for vibes I did."@@ @@.macy;"These vibes are slanderous,"@@ she says, pointing at the page. @@.macy;"Why am I this... weird creature?"@@ @@.player;"You're a beloved and powerful creature,"@@ you correct. Vincent, who has been studying the drawing quietly, adjusts his glasses and leans in a little closer, clearly taking it seriously despite the subject matter. @@.vincent;"It's... very expressive,"@@ he says carefully. @@.vincent;"You can tell exactly what kind of critter this is."@@ @@.macy;"Thank you,"@@ Macy says, hopeful. @@.macy;"Please tell me it's inaccurate."@@ Vincent hesitates, wondering how to answer, but ends up choosing honesty. @@.vincent;"It's definitely exaggerated. But the enthusiasm for boys' love, the chaotic energy, and the way it looks like it hasn't slept because it stayed up thinking about fictional relationships... that part feels accurate."@@ Macy makes an offended sound and drops back into her chair. @@.macy;"I can't believe this is how I'm seen."@@ Jasper wipes at his eyes, still laughing. @@.jasper;"The speech bubble really sells it. You'd definitely say 'what if they HOLD HANDS?' out loud."@@ @@.macy;"I would NOT,"@@ she protests, then pauses. @@.macy;"...Okay, maybe once."@@ You're laughing now too. @@.player;"I swear, my hand just started doing that. I didn't plan the fangs, promise."@@ @@.macy;"WHY do I have fangs?"@@ Macy demands again, grabbing the sketchbook and inspecting it more closely despite herself. @@.jasper;"Because you feed on emotional tension,"@@ Jasper says immediately. @@.macy;"Stop making up lies about me,"@@ she says, then looks back at the drawing, squinting. @@.macy;"...Why does this look like it has lore?"@@ @@.vincent;"Everything you touch has lore,"@@ Vincent replies calmly. She groans, dragging a hand down her face. @@.macy;"I hate that you're all agreeing."@@ <<elseif $d23macy is 2>>\ You hesitate a little before flipping the page, then decide there's no way to ease into this and just turn the sketchbook around, sliding it into the center of the table. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say carefully, @@.player;"this one is a... little different."@@ Macy leans forward, chin propped on her hands, eyes bright with curiosity. @@.macy;"I love that. Go on."@@ Jasper peers over her shoulder. Vincent leans in too. On the page is not a person. Not really. It's a //melt//. A soft, blobby puddle that kind of resembles Macy. Macy stares at it. For a long moment, no one says anything. Then your muse lets out a small, reverent noise. @@.macy;"...Oh my God."@@ Jasper blinks. @@.jasper;"That's kind of incredible."@@ Vincent adjusts his glasses, studying it closely. @@.vincent;"It's very honest."@@ Macy doesn't laugh or yell or... do anything, really. She just keeps staring at the drawing like she's seeing herself reflected in a mirror she didn't know existed. @@.macy;"That is exactly how I look in my head,"@@ Macy says slowly. You blink. @@.player;"Really?"@@ She nods emphatically. @@.macy;"Yes. This. This is me when I've had too much caffeine, too many feelings, and not enough time to process any of it."@@ Jasper points at the puddle. @@.jasper;"You look like you're one inconvenience away from becoming all liquid."@@ @@.macy;"I am,"@@ Macy says seriously. @@.vincent;"I like that you're still smiling,"@@ Vincent points out, clearly amused. @@.vincent;"You're about to disappear, but you're still happy."@@ @@.macy;"Even when I'm melting, I'm having a good time,"@@ she replies. @@.macy;"I feel so... seen today. Like, deeply, profoundly seen."@@ @@.vincent;"It //does// capture the energy you have quite accurately,"@@ Vincent says, nodding. @@.vincent;"That's hard to do."@@ You relax. @@.player;"I was worried it'd be insulting."@@ @@.macy;"Oh, it is!"@@ Macy says cheerfully. @@.macy;"But in the best way possible."@@ <</if>>\ You exhale, tension finally draining out of your shoulders. @@.player;"Okay. Cool. That went... way better than I expected it to."@@ You flip to the next page. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, bracing yourself. @@.player;"I'll show Jasper's drawing next."@@ <<button "Spacy Macy" "Day 23 - 15">>\<</button>>

<<if $d23jasper is 0>>\ You swallow once, then flip to the next page and turn the sketchbook around again, already bracing yourself. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, preemptively defensive. @@.player;"this one was made under extreme time pressure and questionable decision-making."@@ @@.jasper;"Oh?"@@ Jasper asks, perking up immediately. @@.jasper;"That's my favorite artistic environment."@@ Macy scoots closer, practically climbing onto the table at this point. Vincent leans in more carefully, eyes already scanning the page like he's trying to understand the art before reacting. On the paper is a Jasper mecha. Jasper's face lights up. @@.jasper;"Oh my God,"@@ he says. @@.jasper;"Yesss."@@ Macy bursts out laughing. @@.macy;"You turned the guy into a refrigerator with legs."@@ @@.jasper;"A //powerful// refrigerator,"@@ Jasper corrects immediately, eyes still glued to the drawing. @@.jasper;"Look at that posture. Look at that confidence. Look at how little it cares about ergonomics."@@ Vincent tilts his head, intrigued. @@.vincent;"$name, you gave it a lot of mass."@@ @@.jasper;"As it should,"@@ Jasper says reverently. He taps the page lightly. @@.jasper;"Flesh is weak and biology is a scam."@@ Macy snorts. @@.macy;"Here we go."@@ @@.jasper;"I'm serious,"@@ Jasper continues, warming up fast. @@.jasper;"Bones break, muscles get tired, and organs fail. This though?"@@ He gestures at the mecha. @@.jasper;"This does not need sleep. This does not get back pain. This does not experience lactose intolerance."@@ @@.vincent;"That's actually... oddly compelling,"@@ Vincent says, blinking. @@.vincent;"You have a sound argument."@@ @@.jasper;"Thank you,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"I wish to transcend."@@ You laugh, relief flooding through you. @@.player;"I wasn't sure if it was too dumb."@@ @@.jasper;"Dumb?"@@ Jasper repeats, scandalized. @@.jasper;"This is aspirational, $name. I love that you made me the robot while I'm also inside the robot. That's good symbolism."@@ @@.player;"Is it?"@@ you ask. @@.jasper;"Yes,"@@ he says firmly. @@.jasper;"It shows that I am no longer limited by my physical form. Also I get massive shoulders."@@ Macy points at the art cannon. @@.macy;"You would absolutely weaponize art supplies."@@ @@.jasper;"Paint-based warfare,"@@ Jasper agrees. @@.jasper;"Highly underrated."@@ Vincent studies the crushed mystery object under the foot. @@.vincent;"What is it stepping on?"@@ @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"A billionaire? A bad take? Someone who disrespected mechnical design?"@@ Jasper nods. @@.jasper;"All valid targets."@@ Macy wipes a tear from her eye. @@.macy;"I can't believe I'm sitting at a table where we're talking about mecha paint weapons. Nobody's questioning it! I've found my people."@@ @@.jasper;"Why would we?"@@ Jasper says. Vincent, who has been staring at the mecha drawing with intense focus, adjusts his glasses and leans in closer. @@.vincent;"I actually really like the cockpit placement,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Center mass. Symbolically important. Feels like the heart of the machine."@@ @@.macy;"This is starting to sound like a cult,"@@ Macy says, squinting. @@.jasper;"Well, it's a very cool cult,"@@ Jasper replies. @@.vincent;"We've got union protections,"@@ Vincent adds, nodding seriously. You laugh, glancing back at the page. @@.player;"I didn't think anyone would analyze it this much."@@ @@.vincent;"Never underestimate nerds,"@@ Vincent says. He taps near the oversized shoulders. @@.vincent;"These would create a terrible turning radius, though."@@ Jasper gasps. @@.jasper;"How dare you."@@ @@.vincent;"I'm not saying it's bad,"@@ Vincent rushes to add. @@.vincent;"Just impractical. You'd need open terrain because urban combat would be a nightmare."@@ Macy grins. @@.macy;"So you're saying there can't be any narrow alley fights."@@ @@.vincent;"I am,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"But on an open battlefield? With enough space to maneuver? Those proportions would be terrifying."@@ Jasper crosses his arms, pleased. @@.jasper;"See? Vincent gets it."@@ @@.player;"I didn't expect Vincent to be analyzing the robot,"@@ you admit. Vincent smiles sheepishly. @@.vincent;"I //have// watched a lot of documentaries. And... some anime."@@ Macy's eyes light up. @@.macy;"WHAT KIND OF ANIME?"@@ @@.vincent;"All kinds,"@@ he says quietly. @@.vincent;"But I have watched my fair share of mecha."@@ Jasper points at him like he's just discovered a long-lost sibling. @@.jasper;"I knew there was a lot to you."@@ <<elseif $d23jasper is 1>>\ You hesitate before flipping to the next page. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say slowly, already bracing yourself. @@.player;"This one is... a creative risk."@@ Jasper raises an eyebrow. @@.jasper;"Uh-oh."@@ @@.macy;"Oh, I know what this is already,"@@ Macy says, leaning back in her chair with a knowing smile. Vincent, on the other hand, looks confused. He adjusts his glasses and peers closer. @@.vincent;"Is everything okay?"@@ You don't answer, instead opting to just turn the sketchbook around. The first thing everyone sees is the big nose. The massive, humongous, gigantic nose that takes up most of the page. The rest of Jasper exists around it. Why? Because this drawing has one purpose, and that is nose. Next to the face, written in your handwriting, is a tiny note: //strong nose energy// Silence crashes down on the table. Jasper doesn't move. He stares at the drawing, expression completely unreadable. Macy freezes while Vincent's eyes widen. @@.vincent;"Oh no,"@@ Vincent whispers. @@.vincent;"Oh no."@@ Jasper slowly looks up at you. @@.jasper;"That,"@@ he says calmly, @@.jasper;"was a very risky artistic decision."@@ Your heart leaps into your throat. The guy looks pissed. @@.player;"Well, I took that risk,"@@ you respond. Jasper holds your gaze for another long second, face still completely serious, still intimidating in a way that makes Vincent visibly tense. Then he breaks. Jasper bursts out laughing so hard he has to grab the edge of the table to steady himself. @@.jasper;"BAHAHA, OH MY GOD."@@ @@.macy;"I frickin KNEW it,"@@ Macy says, pointing at him. Jasper wheezes, wiping his eyes. @@.jasper;"You really just looked at my big ass nose and committed."@@ Vincent lets out the most dramatic sigh of relief you've ever heard. @@.vincent;"I genuinely thought we were about to wtiness a murder."@@ @@.player;"So... you're not mad?"@@ you ask. @@.jasper;"Mad?"@@ he repeats between laughs. @@.jasper;"Man, I love it. Look at that beak."@@ He leans in closer, squinting at the page. @@.jasper;"That nose could smell the future."@@ Macy nods sagely. @@.macy;"That nose enters a room five minutes before the rest of him."@@ Vincent, now emboldened, peers closer as well. @@.vincent;"It //is// very expressive, and I mean that sincerely."@@ @@.jasper;"You're right,"@@ Jasper says. Vincent adjusts his glasses again, warming up now that the threat of violence has passed. @@.vincent;"It actually //does// capture your presence. You tend to lead with confidence and volume."@@ @@.macy;"And nostrils,"@@ Macy adds. Jasper laughs again. @@.jasper;"I'm very aware of how big my nose is, thank you. Genetics did not ask for my opinion."@@ @@.macy;"That thing has lineage,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"Ancestral."@@ Vincent studies the shading thoughtfully. @@.vincent;"You put a highlight here, which gives it dimension. That was a good choice."@@ @@.player;"Thank you?"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"It's constructive feedback,"@@ he says earnestly. @@.vincent;"I bought into the intimidation for a second. I thought he was going to be genuinely upset."@@ Macy snorts. @@.macy;"Jasper does this every time. He pretends to be scary and serious like he's about to fight someone, and then it turns out he's just dramatic."@@ @@.jasper;"I could be scary,@@ Jasper protests. @@.macy;"You once apologized to a chair,"@@ she replies. Jasper remains silent. @@.vincent;"I'm just glad $name didn't cross a line and we survived."@@ <<elseif $d23jasper is 2>>\ You hesitate on this page for a while. Not because you're unsure what you drew, you're very sure, but because you're trying to brace yourself for whatever reaction this is about to get. You clear your throat, flip the sketchbook around, and push it into the middle of the table. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say carefully. @@.player;"So this one might be a little unhinged."@@ Jasper leans forward first. Macy follows immediately. Vincent peers over the edge, already squinting like he's about to write a thesis on it. On the page is Jasper. Sort of. It's Jasper if he had been bitten by something ancient and feral and became a beast-like creature. It looks less like a person and more like a mountain guardian that eats trespassers. Jasper stares, then exhales slowly. @@.jasper;"Man, I wish that were me,"@@ he says. You blink. @@.player;"What? It //is// you."@@ He leans back in his chair, hands behind his head, sighing like someone who has just been reminded of a missed calling. @@.jasper;"No, $name. You got it all wrong. That's what I //want// to be. I'm big, sure, but it's not like that. It's mostly fat. I'm not actually strong."@@ @@.player;"You're still pretty strong,"@@ you say, frowning. @@.macy;"No, he's not,"@@ Macy corrects, snorting. Jasper shoots her a look. @@.jasper;"Wow."@@ She grins unapologetically. @@.macy;"C'mon, I have eyes. I've seen you in P.E. I //enjoy// watching you struggle."@@ @@.jasper;"That's fucked up."@@ @@.macy;"It's character-building,"@@ she replies. Vincent, who has been studying the drawing intently, clears his throat. @@.vincent;"To be fair,"@@ he says, thoughtful, @@.vincent;"a lot of strongmen actually carry a significant amount of body fat. Strength doesn't always look like a bodybuilder physique. It's more about functional power."@@ @@.jasper;"See?"@@ Jasper says. Vincent continues, now in explanation mode. @@.vincent;"Historically speaking, many cultures associated strength with mass. A heavier build often meant stability, endurance, and the ability to exert force over time rather than aesthetics."@@ Macy tilts her head. @@.macy;"Okay but—"@@ @@.vincent;"And,"@@ Vincent adds, pushing his glasses up, @@.vincent;"expecting yourself to look like Arnold Schwarzenegger isn't really realistic. I think this drawing exaggerates your strength well."@@ @@.jasper;"Man, that's what I'm sayin!"@@ Jasper says, nodding. Macy crosses her arms. @@.macy;"What I was saying was he still can't bench fifty pounds."@@ There's a pause. Vincent freezes mid-thought. @@.vincent;"...Fifty?"@@ Jasper avoids eye contact. @@.vincent;"Never mind then,"@@ Vincent says, his shoulders dropping slightly. You let out a laugh. @@.player;"For what it's worth, I was going for the beast energy you seem to exude. So... at least you //look// strong?"@@ @@.jasper;"Yeah, I can see that,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"People always think I'm strong until they see me in P.E."@@ @@.macy;"You'd use those to steal snacks,"@@ Macy says, pointing at the claws. <</if>>\ @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, preparing to move on. @@.player;"Last one."@@ <<button "Jasper bullying" "Day 23 - 16">>\<</button>>

<<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, flipping the sketchbook around. @@.player;"This one's yours, Vincent."@@ <<if $d23vincent is 0>>\ Vincent leans in immediately and sees a drawing that's him if he had been aggressively promoted by history. Vincent if he was a French emperor. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says, his face lighting up. Then, a little louder, more animated, @@.vincent;"Oh! You remembered."@@ Jasper squints. @@.jasper;"What is that again?"@@ @@.vincent;"A French imperial coat,"@@ Vincent says instantly. @@.vincent;"Looks to be late eighteenth, early ninteenth century. The cut gives it away."@@ Macy blinks. @@.macy;"Of course it does."@@ Vincent doesn't even hear her. He's fully locked in now, pointing at the page with careful excitement. @@.vincent;"The exaggerated tails, the buttons, the epaulettes, those are all very much post-Revolutionary France. This is absolutely Napoleonic-era inspired."@@ @@.player;"I... just kinda drew it?"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"I didn't know of any of this."@@ Vincent laughs, delighted. @@.vincent;"That makes it even better."@@ He starts pointing things out rapidly now, enthusiasm bubbling over. @@.vincent;"The epaulettes are especially funny because they're way too big, but that actually tracks. Military symbolism was everything back then. Rank had to be visible at all times."@@ @@.jasper;"So you're saying the shoulder pads make sense,"@@ Jasper says, leaning in closer. @@.vincent;"They do,"@@ Vincent says seriously. @@.vincent;"I know they're meant to be exaggerated, but they do legitimately make sense."@@ @@.macy;"This is //so// Vincent,"@@ Macy says, snorting. Vincent smiles, undeterred. @@.vincent;"And the powdered wig! Okay, that's technically more ancien régime, but artists still used it later to evoke authority and legacy. It's anachronistic, but in a way that works symbolically."@@ @@.player;"I added that because it looked funny,"@@ you murmur. @@.vincent;"That's often why symbolism survives,"@@ Vincent says brightly. He keeps scanning the page, clearly enjoying every detail. @@.vincent;"The posture is stiff, too. That's really accurate. Portraits from that era were all about projecting control, even when the person was uncomfortable."@@ @@.jasper;"So Emperor Vincent was thinking very hard about not messing everything up,"@@ Jasper says, pointing at the face. @@.vincent;"Exactly!"@@ Vincent exclaims. Macy tilts her head. @@.macy;"Wait... but why French specifically?"@@ Vincent looks up at her, still smiling. @@.vincent;"My family's mostly French. My last name, Sinclair, has French origin. It was derived from places like Saint-Clair-sur-l'Elle, a commune in Normandy. You might know of that from WW2. It's... really nice that you remembered,"@@ he adds, glancing back at you. You shrug. @@.player;"It was important."@@ @@.vincent;"It is, I guess,"@@ Vincent responds. @@.vincent;"I guess I don't usually expect people to retain it. Or... anything about me, really."@@ @@.macy;"Well,"@@ Macy says, pointing at the drawing, @@.macy;"you're now officially Emperor Sinclair."@@ Jasper nods solemnly. @@.jasper;"Long may he reign."@@ Vincent laughs again, softer this time. @@.vincent;"I also love that map. Maps were power. Knowing borders, deciding borders, was everything in that era."@@ He pauses, squinting at the sash. @@.vincent;"Why does it say EMPERO?"@@ @@.player;"I ran out of space,"@@ you say, wincing. @@.vincent;"That can actually be seen as historically accurate too,"@@ Vincent says, grinning. @@.vincent;"Titles were very long. Something always got cut off."@@ Macy giggles. @@.macy;"Maybe that's why revolutions start. People got tired of these long titles."@@ Vincent leans back slightly, hands folded now. He's in full analysis mode, assigning deeper meaning to things you didn't even think about. @@.vincent;"If I had to place him, I'd say he exists in a slightly alternate Napoleonic timeline with more reform. My emperor counterpart is probably deeply stressed and surrounded by advisors he doesn't trust."@@ @@.jasper;"That sounds exhausting,"@@ Jasper comments. @@.vincent;"Oh, it is,"@@ Vincent replies. @@.vincent;"But that's part of why I like studying it."@@ <<elseif $d23vincent is 1>>\ Vincent leans in, adjusting his glasses as he takes in the drawing, and for a moment he just stares. Really looks at the drawing of himself as an overworked scholar. His expression softens as he inspects something that genuinely interests him. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says, almost fondly. @@.vincent;"That's Ancient Greece."@@ Jasper blinks. @@.jasper;"How'd you get that so fast?"@@ @@.vincent;"The sandals helped,"@@ Vincent replies. @@.vincent;"Not to mention the toga that's clearly trying its best."@@ @@.macy;"That toga is fighting for its life,"@@ Macy says, squinting at the page. Vincent laughs. @@.vincent;"It really is."@@ He studies the figure more closely now, eyes moving over the hunched posture, the tired shoulders, the way the body leans forward like it's forgotten the rest of the world exists beyond the scrolls. He notices the deep eyebags, the candle burning way too low, and the scrolls slipping away in every direction. @@.vincent;"This is exactly how I imagine myself being if I were born in Ancient Greece,"@@ Vincent says. You glance up. @@.player;"Really? That?"@@ @@.vincent;"Of course,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Overworked, underpaid, and deeply stressed about knowledge."@@ @@.jasper;"So... basically the same as you right now,"@@ Jasper says, grinning. Vincent can't help but smile at that. @@.vincent;"I suppose so."@@ He taps the scrolls lightly with one finger. @@.vincent;"I like that there are too many. That's accurate. Ancient scholars were constantly juggling texts, having to copy things by hand, and arguing about interpretations. Nothing was ever finished."@@ Macy points at the fake scribbled Greek letters. @@.macy;"Are those real?"@@ @@.vincent;"No,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"Not even close, really. But it's fine. Minuscule, a script similar to cursive, is barely legible as well."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"I was worried Greece would be offended."@@ @@.vincent;"They might be, but I'm sure they'd understand you're an American high schooler,"@@ Vincent says warmly. @@.jasper;"All I'm saying is those eyebags are brutal,"@@ Jasper points out. Vincent laughs. @@.vincent;"I mean, mine right now are pretty brutal."@@ @@.macy;"Lemme see,"@@ Macy says, staring at Vincent's face. @@.macy;"Oh. Oh yeah. You look like you invented stress."@@ @@.vincent;"I probably did when I signed up for 7 APs,"@@ Vincent says, chuckling. <<elseif $d23vincent is 2>>\ <<set $vincentRomance to Math.clamp($vincentRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ There's no joke to hide behind with this drawing. No exaggeration to deflect attention. Just intention. But, well, you have to share it. Vincent leans in automaticaly and studies the page carefully, brows knitting in confusion. He tilts his head slightly, then straightens, then leans in again like he's trying to solve a really hard puzzle. @@.vincent;"...Huh,"@@ he says softly. Jasper glances over. @@.jasper;"That's you."@@ Macy squints. @@.macy;"Yeah, but like... a different you."@@ Vincent keeps looking, eyes tracing the lines slowly. You can tell he's registering the small differences: the posture, the angle of the head, the way the shoulders aren't caving inward. The fact that nothing about the drawing is exaggerated or idealized. He looks exactly like he does right now, just settled. @@.vincent;"I don't get it,"@@ Vincent admits, glancing up at you. @@.vincent;"It looks like me, but—"@@ @@.macy;"But not,"@@ Macy finishes. Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"Yeah. I mean, the assignment was to draw the vibes someone has. And I don't... I don't //look// like that."@@ You swallow, then force yourself to meet his eyes. @@.player;"I drew you with confidence,"@@ you say. Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"But.. I'm not confident."@@ Jasper opens his mouth, about to say something, before closing it. Macy freezes, eyes widening just a little, already sensing what's happening. @@.vincent;"I mean, I'm anxious, I overthink everything, I apologize when I did nothing wrong. That's... that's just my vibe, $name."@@ @@.player;"No it's not,"@@ you say, shaking your head gently. @@.player;"That's how you feel, but that's not what you are."@@ He looks at you again, clearly caught off guard. @@.vincent;"What do you mean?"@@ You lean forward, voice lower now. @@.player;"That's the version of you I want to see, Vincent. The one where you don't shrink yourself. The one where you take up space and don't feel bad about it."@@ Vincent's face goes pink almost instantly. @@.vincent;"I—"@@ That's the only word he can get out before he has to stop. @@.vincent;"That's not really fair, $name. You can't just..."@@ @@.player;"I can,"@@ you interrupt, smiling. @@.player;"It's my drawing."@@ Macy presses both hands over her mouth. @@.macy;"Oh my God."@@ @@.jasper;"Oh shit, this is happening,"@@ Jasper mutters. Vincent looks back down at the page, flustered now, eyes darting between the drawing and you. @@.vincent;"But the vibes, I mean... if I'm not confident, then—"@@ @@.player;"You don't have to already be it,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"Sometimes vibes are aspirational."@@ That lands. Vincent exhales shakily, shoulders dropping just a little. @@.vincent;"So... this is how you see me?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you say. @@.player;"This is how I //want// to see you."@@ His ears turn fully red. @@.vincent;"You, you darkened the eyes,"@@ he says suddenly, like he needs something concrete to hold onto. @@.vincent;"Why did you do that?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Because when you're not panicking, when you're actually comfortable, you're really warm. You just don't realize it."@@ @@.macy;"I'm going to pass away,"@@ Macy says, her voice wavering. Jasper nods solemnly. @@.jasper;"This is better than cable."@@ Vincent studies the drawing again, looking at the version of himself that isn't bracing for impact. @@.vincent;"I like how I look like I belong,"@@ he admits quietly. @@.player;"You do,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"And you think that's attractive?"@@ @@.player;"Very."@@ Vincent short-circuits completely, ducking his head with a breathless laugh. @@.vincent;"$name! You can't just say things like that."@@ @@.player;"I absolutely can,"@@ you reply. @@.vincent;"Well, you're dangerous,"@@ Vincent says, although he's laughing softly. <</if>>\ You close the sketchbook gently, feeling some pride bloom in your chest. @@.player;"I'm glad you all enjoyed my drawings."@@ He nods. @@.vincent;"This was a really good exercise."@@ Macy stretches dramatically. @@.macy;"We learned so much."@@ @@.player;"I guess that's everything, then,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"That was... really nice."@@ <<button "Vincent!" "Day 23 - 17">>\<</button>>

@@.girl;"Alright,"@@ Ms. Delgado says, smiling. @@.girl;"That was great. Seriously. You all shared your art with other people and survived, which is a minor miracle in and of itself."@@ A few people around the room groan. Someone dramatically collapses over their desk. Ms. Delgado ignores them completely. @@.girl;"For our next assignment,"@@ she continues, pacing slowly down the aisle between tables, @@.girl;"we're going to shift gears a little. This isn't about how well you draw, it's about how you see."@@ She stops near the front. @@.girl;"Art isn't just lines on paper. It's choices, context, and meaning. Why something sticks with you when you don't even fully understand it yet."@@ You straighten a little without meaning to. @@.girl;"I'm going to give each table four images,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"You'll pick one. Just one. Look at it for a few minutes. Sit with it. Then you'll talk about why you chose it and what stood out to you at your tables."@@ She raises a finger. @@.girl;"And I mean //why//. Don't just say 'I like it' or 'it looks cool.' I don't want to hear that. I want to know what caught your eye and made you stop."@@ She starts moving around the room, handing out small stacks of printed images to each table. When she reaches your table, she pauses, smiling faintly like she already knows this group is going to be interesting. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says, setting four sheets down between you. @@.girl;"You guys have got some variety."@@ The images spread out across the table, the paper sliding a little. For a few seconds, none of you touch anything. You all just stare. @@.macy;"Okay,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"Whyyy do these all feel like traps?"@@ Jasper squints at the nearest one. @@.jasper;"Why the hell is that one so long?"@@ Vincent's already out of his chair, hovering over the table with that very specific look he gets when something interests him. @@.vincent;"Oh, okay. So. Uh. That long one is the Bayeux Tapestry."@@ You glance back at it, actually looking this time. It's packed edge-to-edge with tiny figures stitched into fabric. People are marching, fighting, pointing, and riding horses that don't really look like horses. It doesn't feel like one image so much as dozens stitched together. @@.player;"So, is this like a really old comic strip?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"That's honestly not a bad way to describe it,"@@ Vincent says, smiling. @@.vincent;"It tells the story of the lead-up to the Norman Conquest of England. I won't get into it because I don't have the time, but I ''love'' it. This was how people preserved history when most people couldn't read. It's art, yes, but it's also propaganda."@@ Macy tilts her head. @@.macy;"How is this propaganda?"@@ @@.vincent;"Well, it tells the story from one side's perspective,"@@ Vincent says, pushing up his glasses. @@.vincent;"It's definitely not neutral. It shows King Harold as a treacherous usurper while William, Duke of Normandy, is shown as a hero. I'm sure you can guess what side it shows."@@ Jasper snorts. @@.jasper;"So it's just medieval Twitter."@@ @@.vincent;"No it's n—"@@ Vincent pauses, then sighs. @@.vincent;"Unfortunately, I guess you're not wrong."@@ @@.macy;"That actually makes me like it more,"@@ Macy says, laughing. She reaches for another sheet, holding it up with two fingers like it might bite her. The image shows two boys reading a letter together. One of the boys has his arm draped around the other boy's shoulder. They seem to be close. @@.macy;"What //is// this?"@@ Macy asks. @@.macy;"It gives gay."@@ Vincent leans over to look. @@.vincent;"That's by Pablo Picasso. The piece is called Reading the Letter."@@ Of course it is. @@.vincent;"It's from his neoclassical period, while he was transitioning away from cubism,"@@ Vincent continues. @@.vincent;"It was actually unknown before he died. The painting was discovered in inventory."@@ @@.jasper;"Why do they look so serious over a letter?"@@ Jasper asks, squinting at the figures. @@.vincent;"Nobody knows,"@@ Vincent says simply. @@.vincent;"Picasso never even commented on this piece. One modern critic described it as homoerotic, actually."@@ Macy snatches the paper and hugs it close to her chest. @@.macy;"I ''knew'' it. I feel so seen."@@ While that's happening, Jasper has already pulled the third image toward himself. It's stark, covered in thin lines, numbers, and angles. No people or emotion. Just structure. @@.jasper;"Oh, this is sick,"@@ he says immediately. You lean over. It's a technical drawing of a tank, shown from multiple angles, with parts sliced open to show what's inside. Everything is precise, clean, and cold. @@.vincent;"That's a T-34 medium tank blueprint,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"The one the Soviets used for most of WW2."@@ @@.jasper;"I love how you can tell this thing was just built to survive,"@@ Jasper says, nodding enthusiastically. @@.jasper;"No nonsense."@@ @@.vincent;"That's the point,"@@ Vincent agrees. @@.vincent;"I don't think the Soviets could really care about form over function. The eastern front was brutal."@@ Macy wrinkles her nose. @@.macy;"All I see are lines."@@ @@.jasper;"Perfect lines,"@@ Jasper says. With that, one image is left unclaimed. You pick it up almost without realizing it, then freeze when you actually process what you're looking at. A man stands in front of a mirror in a normal room. The only weird part is that the mirror doesn't show his face. Instead, it shows the back of his head again. Like the reflection refuses to cooperate. <<if $acceptance > 49>>\ @@.player;"I hate that,"@@ you mutter. <<else>>\ @@.player;"That's familiar,"@@ you mutter. <</if>>\ Vincent leans over your shoulder. @@.vincent;"That's by René Magritte. The painting is called //Not to Be Reproduced//."@@ Macy shudders. @@.macy;"That's cursed."@@ @@.vincent;"It's surrealism,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"It looks super realistic too, which makes it worse. It's about identity or perception or the idea that you can't ever fully see yourself the way others do."@@ @@.jasper;"That's too much thinking for a mirror,"@@ Jasper says. You keep staring at it. The missing face, the repetition, and the quiet wrongness of it all. @@.player;"I feel like it's judging me."@@ @@.vincent;"Well, that's kind of Magritte's whole thing,"@@ Vincent says gently. Ms. Delgado's voice carries over from the front of the room. @@.girl;"Don't overthink it, you all. Choose the one that pulls you in."@@ Vincent doesn't hesitate. He slides the paper with the tapestry toward himself. @@.vincent;"I want this one. It's history telling a story about itself. My God, I could talk about it forever."@@ @@.macy;"I can relate this one to boys' love,"@@ Macy says, grabbing //Reading the Letter//. @@.macy;"So I'm claiming it."@@ Jasper taps the blueprint decisively. @@.jasper;"Tank."@@ All three of them look at you. You glance down at the Magritte again. The mirror that won't show a face. The quiet discomfort sitting in your chest. @@.layer;"Guess I'll take that,"@@ you say. Ms. Delgado passes by your table again and nods approvingly. @@.girl;"Good. Take a few minutes. Really look."@@ The conversation fades as each of you leans back in your chair, eyes settling on your chosen image. <<button "Analyze the painting" "Day 23 - 18">>\<</button>>

You rest the paper on your desk and stare at it a little too hard, like maybe if you look at it long enough, it'll stop being weird. It doesn't. The guy in the painting is standing in front of a mirror like it's the most normal thing in the world, but the mirror just refuses to show his face. It shows the back of his head again. Same shoulders, same posture, same exact view, like the reflection is stuck on a loop. It's so well-made too, clean, realistic, and calm, which somehow makes it feel even more wrong. Like everything is pretending nothing's happening. You feel this stupid little twist in your chest, because you kinda get it. Not because you're some deep art person or anything, not yet, anyway. But there's been this constant feeling of not being able to line yourself up properly. Like you're looking for something familiar and your brain keeps handing you a version of you that doesn't quite match what you expected. Like you're trying to confirm something, but the mirror just gives you the same answer over and over. @@.serena;"The mirror will reveal your truth, piece by piece, until you learn."@@ It's kind of annoying how accurate Madame Serena's words have been. You glance down at your hands for a second, then back at the painting, and you think about the $referto. About how your body always changes in tiny ways that have added up way too quickly. Sometimes you catch your reflection and freeze, because it looks close enough to you while also being different enough that your brain has to reboot. Sometimes it freaks you out and sometimes it doesn't. You don't know which one scares you more. Your eyes linger on the mirror in the painting again and you swallow. What do you think? <<button "I've been feeling less like this painting lately" "Day 23 - 19">>\<<set $d23painting to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_painting" "I've been feeling less like this painting lately" "story">><</button>> <<button "I've been feeling more like this painting lately" "Day 23 - 19">>\<<set $d23painting to false>>\<<trackChoice "D23_painting" "I've been feeling more like this painting lately" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d23painting is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D23PaintingTrans">>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You hold the paper flat on your desk and stare at it for a long time, waiting for the weirdness to stop feeling weird. But it doesn't. The guy in the picture is standing in front of the mirror doing the most basic thing in the world. Just glancing in the mirror to see his own face for two seconds. He just wants the mirror to do what mirrors are supposed to do. And instead, it gives him the back of his head again. It's quiet about it, too. That's the part that makes your skin prickle with goosebumps. There's no dramatic horror, no monster, no blood, no screaming. It's just reality calmly refusing to let the man see himself. You feel a twist in your chest. Why? Because your whole life, the whole time you've existed, you've felt like this painting. Not literally, obviously. Your reflection hasn't glitched out and shown you the wrong side of your head just yet. But the feeling has always been there anyway. The sense that you're looking for something, some version of yourself that's meant to actually feel like you, and it just doesn't. Like you're somehow wearing yourself wrong. It's as if everyone else got handed a manual on who they are and how to act, and all you got was a blurry copy with half the pages missing. You've spent so much time pretending you didn't notice it. Pretending you weren't always a little out of sync with your own body. Pretending you didn't have moments where you caught your reflection and felt uncomfortable, not even knowing why. You didn't really feel attachment to your own self. It was like living with a constant static in the background of your life. It wasn't loud, you could usually ignore it, but it never fully went away. Even when you were laughing with Luke and Samantha, even when you were busy, even when things were good, there was always this tiny feeling that you were playing a part you hadn't chosen. The painting feels like that. It feels like being close to the answer and still not getting it. But then you think about the last few weeks. The $referto has been changing you. And shit, you ''know'' you're supposed to be scared of it. You //were// scared of it. You still are, sometimes, when you catch something new and your brain scrambles to keep up. But lately... lately, something has been different. You keep remembering these tiny moments you didn't think would matter. Like the way your top sits on you now, draping a little differently. Not in the usual way where you wanted to crawl out of your skin, but in a way that makes you pause and realize it actually feels nice. Like the first time you looked in the mirror and your face looked softer and you didn't immediately panic. You just stared, blinking slowly, wondering if this really was you. Because for a second, for just a brief, fleeting moment of time, it felt like you were looking at yourself instead of a stranger wearing your expression. There have been a million of these little moments and none of them have been dramatic. They were small and quiet, which somehow made it hit harder. Because it wasn't just "different." It was simply right. You don't even know how to explain it without sounding insane. You wish you could. It's not like you woke up one day and suddenly had a big revelation and a theme song started blaring in the background. It's more like you've been walking around your whole life with a shoe that never really fit, and you didn't realize how much it hurt until someone replaced it with one that matches. You notice your reflection more now. Not because you're obsessing, but because it's starting to feel interesting. Like it's worth checking. Like //you're// worth checking. It's as if for the first time in forever, there's something there that you actually want to see. There have been moments where you've caught yourself in a mirror or a bathroom window and your brain didn't recoil. It didn't do that thing where it disconnects and goes numb. Instead it just felt warm and fuzzy inside. Your favorite parts are when you feel this tiny, fizzy spark in your chest that you don't know what to do with. Like your body is quietly going, //oh//. Like it's recognizing itself for the first time and is relieved about that. You stare at the painting again, at the mirror refusing to show the guy his face, and you think about how that's what it's been like your whole goddamn life. Looking for yourself and not being able to find the match. Trying to feel real inside your own skin and never getting there. Always disconnected, always playing catch-up with everyone else's certainty. But now, the mirror is starting to cooperate. Not perfectly, not yet. There are still days where you feel weird and unsettled, days where the changes hit you too fast and you want to shove everything into a box and ignore it. Days where you're reminded that you didn't ask for this. But even with all of that, the growing sense that you're seeing yourself more clearly than you ever have before remains. The image you've been reaching for has started to appear in pieces. Little fragments of "you" clicking into place. And that makes you feel happy. Not in the loud way. You're not jumping up and down in joy or anything like that. It's just a soft, steady happy. The kind that sits in your chest and makes it easier to breathe. Shit, you're doing it right now. You're smiling a little without meaning to. It's really weird, but it's also kind of sweet. The painting stood out to you not because it's scary but because it reminds you of what it felt like before. And that makes you realize how much things have changed. How much //you've// changed. Your reflection is finally becoming yours, and you're all the happier for it. <<elseif $d23painting is false>>\ <<grantAchievement "D23PaintingCis">>\ You keep staring at the paper like it's going to change if you glare hard enough, but it doesn't. The guy in the painting is still standing there, shoulders squared, looking into the mirror like he's doing what anyone would do. Just checking himself and trying to get a look at his own goddamn face for two seconds. And the mirror... well, the mirror gives him nothing. It gives him the back of his head, You swallow, throat a little tight, and you hate how fast your brain makes the connection. You hate that it doesn't even feel like a stretch. It just clicks into place like it was waiting for you to notice. Because lately, every time you look at yourself, it feels like that. Not exactly the same, obviously. Your reflection hasn't glitched out and shown you the wrong side of your head just yet. But it might as well, because the feeling is the same. That split-second moment where you expect something familiar and you get... something else entirely. Something close enough that it could be you, that it //should// be you, but different enough that your stomach drops anyway. Hell, you've even started doing this weird thing where you check yourself without even realizing it. Not in a vain way, like you're obsessed with your appearance or anything. Just checking like you're looking for proof. To make sure nothing else has changed. Trying to ensure you won't accidentally do something feminine. But you never see it coming. It's only once you feel that familiar tingle crawling up your spine that you realize you fucked up. It's not even just the physical stuff, either. The worst part might actually be the way your brain reacts before you can stop it. The way you hesitate when you're choosing what to wear, the way certain outfits feel weird now, the way you tug your shirt down more often. You've started crossing your arms differently, standing differently, just... taking up space differently. You don't even mean to. You don't even //want// to. It just happens. You stare at the mirror in the painting and you almost get mad at it, which is stupid because it's not real. But the guy's standing in front of the mirror and he at least deserves to see himself. That's the bare minimum that it, as a mirror, can do. Reflect his face back. But it doesn't. The mirror refuses and gives him the back of his head like a cruel joke. Like the universe itself is laughing. You get it. You //really// get it. You've been feeling more and more like this painting lately, and that scares you more than you want to admit. The more the curse changes you, the more the idea of "you" starts slipping. You keep trying to hold onto something solid, whatever version of "you" existed before all this, but it all keeps shifting away. You keep looking for $name, and sometimes it feels like the mirror is giving you someone else. Or worse, someone you're supposed to become, whether you like it or not. Your eyes flick to the bottom corner and you see a book that's reflected normally, even though the person isn't. The detail makes your skin prickle. The whole world is consistent and everything is normal except for him. That's what it feels like to you. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 20">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D23Familar">>\ <<if $familiar is 0>>\ Something warm nudges your cheek. It's not a shove or anything aggressive, just a persistent bump, followed by a soft huff of breath against your skin. You frown and turn your head away, trying to escape it, but the warmth immediately follows. It curls even closer, pressing in like it refuses to be ignored. A low, steady purr vibrates against your pillow. You crack one eye open and your familiar, Sable, is right there. The lynx is perched beside your head, front paws delicately planted near your shoulders like she climbed up with great care. Her fur glows faintly in the dim morning light, pale and soft with familiar lavender runes threading through it. They pule slowly as if they're alive. You guess that, in a way, they are. Her tall ears twitch the second she sees your eye open, and her violet gaze sharpens with quiet triumph. Good. You're awake. That's was her goal. @@.player;"Hey, Sable,"@@ you mumble, voice thick with sleep. She answers by leaning forward and gently bumping her forehead against your cheek again. Then again. Then, when you try to roll away, she plants a paw on your chest and pushes you. Not hard, of course, but enough that you can tell she absolutely won't let you go back to sleep. The purring grows louder. @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you groan. @@.player;"Five more minutes, please."@@ Sable makes a soft, insistent little sound, tail flicking. Her runes brighten, pulsing faster, and she lowers her head to nuzzle under your chin like she's trying to physically lift your face up. Warm and persistent, Sable is a very unyielding familiar. She can't speak, but you can tell what she's thinking. That you've got to get to school, you're already late. @@.player;"I'm so tired,"@@ you protest weakly, eyes slipping shut again. She respond by stepping directly onto your collarbone. You yelp. @@.player;"Okay, okay! Jeez, I'm awake!"@@ That earns you a pleased trill. She lets out a loud purr, clearly satisfied, and presses her forehead against yours in an affectionate headbutt. Her ears angle forward, proud and encouraging. It's like she's taking credit for getting you through the day. @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. The room wobbles, but less than before. @@.player;"Seriously. I would've slept through everything otherwise."@@ Sable's eyes soften. She leans into your hand when you reach for her, letting you scratch her ear. Her purring turns deep and rumbling, and she closes her eyes for a moment, soaking it all in. Then, suddenly, she pulls back, as if reminding herself there's a mission to finish. She hops down from the bed, lands silently, then turns around and looks at you. You swing your legs over the side of the mattress with a tired groan. @@.player;"Alright, I'm getting up,"@@ you promise. Satisfied, Sable's runes glow brighter. Her form shimmers, edges dissolving into soft purple light. She gives you one last approving look before melting back into m ana, leaving behind only a faint sparkle in the air. You sit there for a second, rubbing your eyes. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you mutter to yourself. @@.player;"Okay, I'm up."@@ <<elseif $familiar is 1>>\ Something cool slides along your arm. At first, you don't really register it as being weird. Your brain is still half shut down, drifting somewhere between dreams and reality, where sensations don't particularly demand explanations. The feeling is smooth and steady, gliding over your skin carefully. It's not abrupt, if anything, it's almost... considerate. Then it loops. Gently and comfortably. Warmth follows, seeping in where the coils rest. You mumble some nonsense and try to pull your arm closer to your chest. The coils follow, and you hear a tiny sound. //rattle-rattle-rattle/ Your eyes crack open. Seraphine is wrapped around your forearm and pillow like she owns both. Her pale scales shimmer faintly in the morning light, flecked with lavender that pulse softly. Her eyes are open and very much focused on you, sharp and alert. The tip of her tail rests near your wrist, rattle lifted just slightly. @@.player;"Hey, girl,"@@ you mumble. Her tongue flicks out once, tasting the air. She doesn't move otherwise. You squint at her, then let your eyes fall shut again. @@.player;"Just five more minutes, alright?"@@ She tightens her coils just a bit. Not enough to hurt you, just enough to make a point. A gentle squeeze, grounding and firm, followed by another rattle that's louder than before. A little threatening and a little suggesting. You groan and roll your head to the side, trying to escape both the light and the responsibility of consciousness. @@.player;"Please,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"I'm so tired."@@ Seraphine shifts. She slides upward, unwrapping from your arm and moving higher. Over your shoulder and along your neck, until her head is suddenly very close to your face. Too close. You feel the cool smoothness of her scales near your jaw. Then she lifts her tail and places the rattle right next to your ear. Seraphine pauses there, perfectly still, tail hovering an inch from your ear canal. Her lavender eyes narrow just slightly, bright with unmistakable mischief. She gives a very small test rattle. //rattle-rattle-rattle// Your eyes fly open. @@.player;"WAIT. WAIT. OKAY."@@ She tilts her head, but the rattle stays right there. @@.player;"Seraphine, please don't,"@@ you beg, panicking. @@.player;"If you rattle that loud, I swear. My eardrums will burst."@@ She rattles a little bit again. It's not loud, not yet, but it's close enough that the sound vibrates straight into your skull. That's it. @@.player;"I'M UP,"@@ you blurt, bolting upright so fast the room spins. @@.player;"I'M UP, I'M UP. I'M SORRY SERAPHINE."@@ The moment you sit up, Seraphine pulls her tail back, satisfied. She coils neatly around your shoulders instead, loose and warm like a living scarf. Her body vibrates softly, but it's (luckily) not a warning rattle this time. It's just a sign that she's pleased with her victory. You clutch the edge of the bed, heart pounding. @@.player;"You are evil,"@@ you say weakly. Her tongue clicks out. She bumps her head gently against your cheek, scales cool and affectionate. You can tell just by the way she looks that she had to make sure you weren't late for school. You exhale, rubbing your face. @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Even though that was terrifying."@@ Seraphine's runes glow brighter, pulsing once in quiet pride. She slides down your shoulder and onto the mattress, then onto the floor in one smooth motion. She turns back to look at you one last time, eyes bright and smug. Then her body disssolves into pink and lavender mana, unraveling coil by coil until the air is empty. You sit there for a moment, staring at the space where she was. @@.player;"Bit rude, but it //is// effective,"@@ you comment. You swing your legs out of bed anyway, fully awake this time. <<elseif $familiar is 2>>\ Something warm sprawls across your legs. It's not heavy. Not exactly. More like an enthusiastic, living blanket that has absolutely no respect for personal space. You groan and try to shift, but whatever it is adjusts immediately, redistributing its weight so it stays draped over you. Then something fluffy brushes your cheek. You mumble incoherently and pull the covers higher. A long, drawn-out, heartbreaking whine answers you. Your eyes flutter open. Solana is standing on your bed. Well, at least partially. She's half standing, half leaning across you, one paw planted on your thigh, and the other on the mattress for balance. Her fur glows faintly in the early light, pale cream and soft gold with gentle lavender swirls curling along her sides. Her ears are tall and alert, tipped with purple, and her tail is already wagging like crazy. The second she sees your eyes open, her whole body perks up. @@.player;"Oh,"@@ you mumble. @@.player;"Hi, Solana."@@ She lets out a quiet //yip// of relief and leans forward to lick your face. She slobbers all over your cheek before pulling back. She smells faintly like warm sunlight and mana. Comforting and familiar. @@.player;"Hey, girl,"@@ you say, smiling despite yourself. @@.player;"You're warm."@@ Your eyes slip shut again. Solana freezes before raising her head and... "Awoooooo." It's soft and sad. A mournful little howl that wobbles at the end like she's emotionally devastated by your choices. Her ears droop dramatically, tail slowing to a gentle swish. You groan. @@.player;"No. No. Don't do that."@@ She tilts her head, golden eyes big and imploring. "Awoooooo..." Louder this time. @@.player;"I'm tired,"@@ you complain, burying your face in the pillow. Solana sits back on her haunches, chest puffing out. "AwoOOOOOOOO." It echoes just enough to vibrate in your chest. Not painful, but guilting. Weaponized sadness in the coyote form. @@.player;"Solana,"@@ you whine. @@.player;"Please."@@ She pads closer, places her front paws gently on your shoulder, and lowers her head so her nose is right by your ear. She sniffs like crazy before doing it once more. "Awoooooo..." She sounds devastated and betrayed, like you personally ruined her entire morning. @@.player;"I can't do this,"@@ you mutter, cracking one eye open. @@.player;"You're being dramatic."@@ She immediately wags her tail faster, hopeful, and then howls again when you don't move. "AwoOOOooOOooOO—" @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you blurt, sitting up abruptly. @@.player;"I'm up. Please stop."@@ The howl cuts off instantly, and Solana beams. Her tail goes absolutely wild, thumping against the mattress as she hops forward and presses her forehead against your chest, nuzzling enthusiastically like she's congratulating you on making the correct life choice. She lets out a few happy yips, circling around the bed in pure joy. @@.player;"Girl, you're just impossible,"@@ you say, rubbing your face. She pants happily, tongue lolling just a little, ears perked with pride. You sigh, swing your legs over the side of the bed, and plant your feet on the floor. @@.player;"You win, Solana,"@@ you tell her. @@.player;"Happy?"@@ Solana lets out one last, triumphant awoo! before her runes glow brighter. Soft pastel light curls around her body, dissolving her into drifting sparkles of mana. Her tail is the last thing to fade wagging until the very end. @@.player;"Man, that coyote is crazy,"@@ you murmur, fully awake not. But you're smiling as you get up anyway. <</if>>\ <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 23 - 3">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<button "Wear canon outfit" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 28>><<set $pants to 21>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\<<trackChoice "D23_outfit_selection" "Wear canon outfit" "customization">><</button>> <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $outfit to 69>><<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Just wear something" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

Ms. Delgado's voice cuts gently through the room again. @@.girl;"Alright, time's up!"@@ she announces. You blink, snapping out of it so hard your brain does that awful little lag thing where you're not fully sure what year it is for half a second. You look down at the paper in front of you like it's been there for five minutes. Because somehow, it has. It's honestly kind of rude how fast time passes when you're thinking too hard. @@.girl;"Go talk about why you chose the art you did and what stood out about it while you were looking at it with your table,"@@ Ms. Delgado says. @@.girl;"Make sure to be honest about it."@@ Nobody speaks. @@.girl;"Come on,"@@ she encourages. @@.girl;"Get talking."@@ Your table comes back to life all at once. Macy slumps dramatically over her Picasso print. @@.macy;"I can't believe she said to be honest. That's dangerous."@@ @@.jasper;"Well, I'm always honest,"@@ Jasper says, tapping the tank blueprint with a finger. Vincent smiles, glancing between everyone's papers with that bright, excited look he gets when he's about to start explaining something whether anyone actually asked or not. @@.vincent;"This is actually a ''really'' good exercise."@@ @@.macy;"Vincent, everything is a really good exercise to you,"@@ Macy deadpans. @@.vincent;"Yes!"@@ he says happily, not denying it at all. @@.jasper;"So, who's going first?"@@ Jasper asks. Macy immediately points at you. @@.macy;"$name."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you say. @@.player;"Why me?"@@ @@.macy;"'Cause you were staring at that mirror guy like he owed you money,"@@ she says, eyes narrowed. Jasper nods along. @@.jasper;"Yeah, you got quiet-quiet."@@ @@.vincent;"You //did// seem really focused,"@@ Vincent echoes. You blink again, realizing they're all looking at you. Your face gets warm. @@.player;"I was just... thinking,"@@ you say, which is the most useless answer imaginable. @@.macy;"Exactly!"@@ Macy says, grinning. @@.macy;"So you go first."@@ @@.vincent;"Only if you're okay with it, of course,"@@ Vincent says softly. @@.vincent;"No pressure. But... I'd like to hear."@@ You laugh awkwardly and shift in your seat. @@.player;"Uh... sure. Yeah. Alright."@@ <<if $d23painting is true>>\ You take a breath and hold the paper up a little higher so Macy and Jasper can see the mirror clearly without having to lean halfway across the table. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, trying to sound casual, even though your voice has this softer edge to it. @@.player;"So I picked this one out because it kinda freaked me out at first. But then I couldn't stop looking at and thinking about it."@@ You tap the mirror with one finger, right where the reflection repeats. @@.player;"He's doing something normal, trying to see himself, and the mirror doesn't cooperate. It's so simple, but it feels... super personal. Maybe because it hits too close to home."@@ Vincent is watching carefully, genuinely trying to understand what you mean. That makes it a lot easier to keep going. @@.player;"I think what stood out to me is the whole idea of..."@@ You pause, searching for the right words. @@.player;"Like, do you know how when you look at yourself, you're supposed to feel that instant click? Where you know that's you. And how something you just don't. And when you don't, it just feels so uncomfortable."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"I think the reason I actually ended up liking this painting was because it hasn't been feeling that uncomfortable way lately. Not as much as I used to."@@ You say it carefully, but you can't stop the little smile that creeps in anyway. @@.player;"Like, for most of my life, I've felt like this painting. But recently, I've been getting these tiny moments where I catch myself and I'm like, oh! There you are!"@@ The words come out honestly, and you don't even cringe at them. If anything, it feels nice to say it out loud to other people. It feels like letting air into a room that's been stagnating closed for years. @@.player;"It's just these little glimpses,"@@ you add. @@.player;"Like the reflection is finally starting to cooperate. And that really does make me happy."@@ Vincent's face brightens in this really sweet and supportive way, like he's relieved for you even if he doesn't fully understand why. @@.vincent;"That's... really nice,"@@ he says quietly. @@.vincent;"I quite like that."@@ @@.jasper;"Your interpretation is rather beautiful,"@@ Jasper says, nodding. @@.macy;"Stop, that's so cute, $name,"@@ Macy says, pressing a hand to her chest. @@.macy;"You can't have me feeling emotions in art class!!!"@@ You laugh, heat rising in your face, but it's not out of embarrassment. It's the good kind. @@.vincent;"So it's not just about the mirror being wrong, is it?"@@ Vincent asks carefully, piecing it all together. @@.vincent;"It's about what it feels like when the inside and the outside aren't synced up. And how good it feels when they begin to."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You're exactly right."@@ @@.macy;"Okay wait, that's actually ''such'' a good interpretation, though,"@@ Macy says, words tumbling out of her mouth. @@.macy;"The painting is sad, but the way you're talking about it is like... it doesn't have to stay sad."@@ Jasper points at the mirror image. @@.jasper;"Like this is the 'before' picture."@@ @@.vincent;"And not the ending,"@@ Vincent adds. Your chest does that small, fizzy thing again. The feeling you've been trying not to think about too much because it'd be too hard to explain. You look down at the painting one last time, then lower it gently. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, voice warm and sure of itself now. @@.player;"This is not the ending."@@ Macy grins, eyes sparkling. @@.macy;"$name's turn was too wholesome! How am I meant to follow that up?"@@ Jasper leans back with a satisfied grin. @@.jasper;"It seems we peaked early."@@ @@.vincent;"I'm glad you went first, $name,"@@ Vincent says softly. @@.player;"C'mon, someone else go before I start getting weird again,"@@ you say, rubbing the back of your neck. <<elseif $d23painting is false>>\ You clear your throat and lift the paper a little so the others can see it. @@.player;"Okay, so... I picked this one because it's just, like... deeply messed up,"@@ you say, trying to sound normal about it. @@.player;"Not in a jumpscare way. More like it makes your brain itch, and not in a good way."@@ You tap the mirror with your finger. @@.player;"He's literally looking at himself and the mirror refuses to reflect. And the worst part is how normal everything else is. It just feels kinda wrong."@@ Macy leans closer, brows raised. Jasper's nodding slowly already. Vincent watches you carefully. @@.player;"It kind of feels like..."@@ You hesitate, then keep going because you already started and there's no walking it back. @@.player;"Like you're trying to confirm something about yourself. Like you're checking to make sure you're still you, and you don't get it. You don't get the answer you want."@@ Your thumb rubs along the edge of the paper without you realizing. @@.player;"And I think what stood out to me is that he doesn't get a choice. The mirror just decides it for him. Like, sorry, you don't get to see what you came here to see."@@ You snort, but it comes out tense. @@.player;"It's... kinda gross."@@ You shift in your seat, suddenly aware of how quiet your table is. @@.player;"It's like being stuck with something that just won't stop messing with you,"@@ you add. You try to keep your voice casual, but it's gotten tight. @@.player;"Like you can't control it, and you're just watching it happen, and you're supposed to just deal with it."@@ Macy's expression softens for a second, but Jasper's still doing that thoughtful nod. Vincent clears his throat gently. @@.vincent;"So it stood out to you because it feels unfair,"@@ he says carefully. You exhale through your nose. @@.player;"Yeah. Unfair. Exactly."@@ Macy's eyes dart between you and the painting. @@.macy;"Also I hate that the mirror is so calm about ruining his life,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"Like, it's not even sorry!"@@ @@.jasper;"The mirror has no empathy,"@@ Jasper snorts. @@.jasper;"It's just sayin' it's a skill issue."@@ Vincent shakes his head as he thinks, digesting your analysis. @@.vincent;"I can see how it's meant to feel like identity being... withheld. Like you're searching for a stable self, and reality keeps refusing to give it to you."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, even though the words hit close. @@.player;"You're right. It's just frustrating."@@ Macy makes a face. @@.macy;"If my mirror did that, I'd throw it into the sun."@@ @@.jasper;"Valid,"@@ Jasper comments. Vincent smiles softly at you. @@.vincent;"I think that was a really interesting and good interpretation."@@ @@.player;"That's just my weird way of looking at it,"@@ you say, chuckling awkwardly. Jasper leans back, satisfied. @@.jasper;"Alright. $name went first and survived. Next victim."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Next victim" "Day 23 - 21">><</button>>

@@.macy;"Fine, I'll go,"@@ Macy says, pointing at her Picasso dramatically. @@.macy;"Be respectful and normal, though."@@ Jasper immediately laughs. @@.jasper;"Macy, that's a lot to expect when you've never once been normal your entire life."@@ Vincent's already leaning in, polite and curious, @@.vincent;"You chose the Picasso, right?"@@ Macy holds up the paper with both hands, presenting it like she's showing something off. It's //Reading the Letter//, two boys sitting close together, heads bent over the letter, bodies angled inward. @@.macy;"This one,"@@ Macy says, eyes bright. @@.macy;"Because it's gay."@@ You blink. @@.player;"...What?"@@ Jasper makes this sound that's halfway between a laugh and an actual cough. @@.jasper;"Macy."@@ Vincent's eyebrows lift, but he doesn't look offended. If anything, he looks intrigued, like someone just handed him a weird thesis statement and he's considering it seriously. Macy taps the paper with one finger. @@.macy;"Look at them. They're sharing a letter. They're sitting pressed together. One of them has his hand on the other's shoulder. That is ''not'' just 'two bros reading mail.' That is intimacy."@@ Jasper covers his mouth with his hand like he's trying not to explode. @@.jasper;"Dude, they're just reading."@@ @@.macy;"Jasper, they're reading together,"@@ Macy says like he's stupid. @@.macy;"Reading is already romantic. Reading with your heads nearly touching? Now that's next-level."@@ You glance at the image again, and you //do// suppose the figures are quite close. Macy points at the shoulder hand again, like it's Exhibit A. @@.macy;"That's a boyfriend hand."@@ @@.jasper;"A BOYFRIEND HAND???"@@ Jasper asks, losing it. @@.macy;"Yes!"@@ Macy says, louder. @@.macy;"That is a hand that has done emotional labor. That is a hand that says, 'whatever the letter says, I'm here for you, my love.' That is a hand that says a lot."@@ You look at her, genuinely baffled. @@.player;"Macy, it could literally be a letter from their mom."@@ @@.macy;"THAT MAKES IT EVEN WORSE,"@@ Macy shouts instantly, eyes wild. @@.macy;"Look at how they're processing family trauma together. That's like... twenty times gayer."@@ Jasper laughs so hard he has to lean back in his chair. @@.jasper;"You are insane."@@ Vincent, meanwhile, is still looking at the painting like he's actually thinking about it. When he speaks, it's careful. @@.vincent;"It's not a bad interpretation,"@@ he says. Macy whips around. @@.macy;"THANK YOU, VINCENT."@@ You squint. @@.player;"Vincent."@@ Vincent shrugs slightly, still studying the composition. @@.vincent;"No, seriously. Look at the body language. They're sitting very close, and the way they're angled creates a closed space. Whether it's romantic or not is a whole different question, of course, but the closeness is undeniable."@@ @@.jasper;"Please don't validate her,"@@ Jasper begs. @@.macy;"I'm such an expert, you guys,"@@ Macy brags. Vincent leans closer to the paper, his voice slipping into that art-history nerd mode where he gets quietly passionate without even realizing it. @@.vincent;"Picasso painted this around 1921, when he was getting into a more classical style. There's this heaviness to the mood, as you can see. It doesn't seem like a happy moment. They're sharing something serious."@@ You nod slowly. @@.player;"Yeah, it does look kinda sad."@@ @@.vincent;"And that's what makes it intimate,"@@ Vincent continues. @@.vincent;"Because it's not just proximity, it's connection. They're leaning into each other, literally and emotionally. And the arm wrapped around the other... yeah, that does suggest closeness."@@ Macy slams both hands on the table like she's declaring victory. @@.macy;"SEE? GAY!"@@ Jasper holds up a hand. @@.jasper;"Okay, okay, okay. There's closeness, fine. But is it //likely// to be gay?"@@ @@.macy;"Jasper, why do you have to hate love?"@@ Macy asks. @@.jasper;"I don't hate love,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.jasper;"I hate your ability to turn anything into boys' love."@@ @@.macy;"It's my gift,"@@ Macy says, eyes gleaming. @@.vincent;"It... probably isn't gay,"@@ Vincent admits. Macy freezes. @@.macy;"What?"@@ she asks, soul leaving her body. Vincent gives an apologetic little shrug. @@.vincent;"I mean, it //can// be read as homoerotic to a modern viewer, and some have commented on that. But Picasso never really explained it, and many think it's connected to friendship."@@ @@.jasper;"HA!"@@ Jasper says, grinning immediately. @@.jasper;"So it's not gay."@@ Macy's face collapses into betrayal. @@.macy;"No. Nooo. Vincent, why would you do this to me?"@@ @@.vincent;"I'm sorry,"@@ Vincent says, laughing. @@.vincent;"I'm not saying it //can't// be read that way. I'm saying it's not confirmed."@@ Macy clutches the paper to her chest like she's protecting heterosexual history. @@.macy;"I don't ''care'' what's confirmed. I care about what's spiritually true. I choose to believe they are soulmates reading a tragic letter that forces them to run away together and start a bakery in the countryside."@@ @@.player;"This is insane,"@@ you say, although you can't help but grin. Jasper leans forward, tapping his blueprint like he's ready to reclaim the table's sanity. @@.jasper;"Alright, it's my turn now. I've got to shut Macy up."@@ @@.vincent;"Okay, then,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"Let's hear the tank speech."@@ <<button "No more yaoi" "Day 23 - 22">><</button>>

Jasper doesn't hesitate. The second Macy shuts up, he slides his own paper forward with confidence. He looks stupidly pleased with himself, like he just got handed his favorite topic on a silver platter. @@.jasper;"Alright,"@@ he says, cracking his knuckles like a menace. @@.jasper;"This one's mine. The tank."@@ Macy immediately slumps in her chair. @@.macy;"Booo!"@@ @@.player;"It's so clean,"@@ you say, squinting at the sheet again. @@.jasper;"Well, that's the point,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"It's clean because it's real. It's a machine and you can see how it's actually built. Like actual parts that do all these little things."@@ Jasper keeps going, clearly in his element. @@.jasper;"And as someone who likes mecha, this is basically the closest thing to real-life mecha lore. Like... everybody wants to pilot a giant robot, but this is what it looks like when you actually have to build something that's gotta move and survive and not fall apart."@@ Macy yawns loudly and dramatically. @@.macy;"You are such a nerd."@@ @@.jasper;"You say that like you're not also a nerd,"@@ Jasper shoots back. @@.macy;"I'm a cool nerd,"@@ Macy argues, waving her Picasso around. @@.macy;"My nerdiness comes with romance and emotional stakes."@@ @@.jasper;"This has emotional stakes too,"@@ Jasper insists. @@.jasper;"If it breaks, you die, Macy."@@ You snort. @@.player;"That's the worst kind of stakes."@@ Vincent leans in, eyes bright. @@.vincent;"The T-34 is actually a really interesting choice,"@@ he says, voice warming up. @@.vincent;"It was one of, if not ''the'' most influential World War 2 tank. The Soviets produced an insane number of them."@@ @@.macy;"Oh my God, it's history time,"@@ Macy says, groaning into her hand. Vincent smiles politely, like he's sorry but not sorry at all. @@.vincent;"Its design was really effective for the brutal Eastern Front. Sloped armor, wide tracks for mud and snow, simple construction so they could mass-produce them. It wasn't perfect, but it was reliable and good enough."@@ @@.player;"Damn, so this thing is actually a big deal,"@@ you say, blinking. Jasper nods, smug. @@.jasper;"Yeah. It's like... the Gundam of real life."@@ @@.vincent;"Not a great comparison,"@@ Vincent says, wincing. @@.macy;"You two are gonna start holding hands over the tank blueprint and imma have to draw fanart,"@@ Macy says, making an even louder yawn. You laugh, because honestly, she probably would. @@.jasper;"Macy, you wouldn't survive five minutes in a mecha cockpit,"@@ Jasper says. Macy gasps like he just slapped her. @@.macy;"Excuse me?"@@ @@.jasper;"You'd panic the second you saw a button labeled 'EMERGENCY EJECTION,'"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"You'd eject immediately. You'd launch yourself into the sky before the enemy even showed up."@@ @@.macy;"That is not true,"@@ Macy says, offended. @@.player;"It //does// kinda sound true,"@@ you comment. Macy points at you. @@.macy;"Traitor."@@ Jasper leans back, satisfied. @@.jasper;"You'd also start trying to matchmake the enemy pilots mid-battle."@@ Macy's eyes widen. @@.macy;"kay, but imagine two rival aces—"@@ @@.jasper;"No,"@@ Jasper says instantly. @@.macy;"Yes,"@@ Macy insists. Vincent clears his throat, trying not to laugh. @@.vincent;"To be fair, cockpit pressure is intense. Even trained pilots can panic."@@ You glance between the three of them, amused. @@.player;"So Jasper picked it because it's basically mecha, Vincent likes it because it's war history, and Macy hates both of you."@@ @@.macy;"Correct,"@@ Macy says, nodding. @@.macy;"My analysis was miles better."@@ @@.jasper;"Your analysis was saying it's gay,"@@ Jasper says, sighing. @@.macy;"And it was."@@ Vincent laughs. @@.vincent;"Alright, alright. Who's next?"@@ Macy points at Vincent. @@.macy;"History boy. You're the last one left. Your turn."@@ <<button "No more mecha" "Day 23 - 23">><</button>>

Vincent shifts his paper a little closer. The second Macy and Jasper finish bickering, Vincent clears his throat. It's as if he's asking permission from the universe to start nerding out. @@.vincent;"Okay,"@@ he says, and his voice has that gentle excitement in it already. @@.vincent;"So this one is the Bayeux Tapestry."@@ You glance at the long strip of tiny stitched people and horses, and it still kind of looks like a medieval storyboard that was made into a carpet. @@.vincent;"Despite the name, it's not actually a tapestry,"@@ Vincent adds immediately, like he can't help himself. @@.vincent;"It's embroidery. Like, stitched on linen with wool thread. That's why it's held up so well."@@ Macy blinks. @@.macy;"So the Bayeux Tapestry isn't a tapestry?"@@ @@.vincent;"It's called a tapestry anyway,"@@ Vincent says quickly, aware that this is a pedantic thing to bring up. @@.vincent;"But //technically//, it's an embroidered cloth. It's almost seventy meters long and about half a meter tall."@@ @@.macy;"What is that in American?"@@ Macy asks. @@.vincent;"Like 225 feet long and 1.5 feet tall,"@@ Vincent says, seeming disappointed that Macy doesn't know metric. Jasper's eyes widen a little. @@.jasper;"Seventy meters? That's insane."@@ @@.vincent;"Oh, it's huge!"@@ Vincent agrees, already glowing. @@.vincent;"And it tells the story leading up to the Norman Conquest of England in 1066. So William of Normandy, Harold Godwinson, the whole situation, and it ends in the Battle of Hastings."@@ You lean in closer, squinting at the tiny faces and Latin text. @@.player;"So it's like history, but in pictures."@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah!"@@ Vincent says, clearly delighted you said it like that. @@.vincent;"It's medieval sequential art. Like a comic, if the comic was propaganda. And what makes it really cool is the way it's telling you what to think while also showing a bunch of details that feel weirdly human. Like it's meant to support the Normans, William's side, but it still shows Harold as a brave and serious man. Not a full-on cartoon villain."@@ @@.player;"I thought it was propaganda,"@@ you say, blinking. @@.player;"So it's not just dunking on the English?"@@ @@.vincent;"Not really,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"It's biased, of course, as propaganda tends to be. But it's not pure propaganda where everyone else is stupid. It's more like it's trying to justify things. It puts a lot of emphasis on Harold making an oath to William."@@ Macy squints at the paper. @@.macy;"So they brought out the receipts."@@ Vincent's eyes light up again. @@.vincent;"Yes! Like a medieval receipts thread!"@@ Vincent gets halfway through another sentence, something about the little Latin captions that are basically subtitles, and he's smiling when he says it. Eyes bright and hands moving like he can't help himself. @@.vincent;"And the funniest part is that it's like they //knew// people would get lost, so they're labeling everything like—"@@ his voice suddenly catches and he stops. It's not a natural pause, like a pause to think. It's like someone yanked his cord and he no longer has power. His mouth stays slightly open for a second, like the rest of the sentence is still sitting there, waiting to come out... and then he closes it. He's suddenly aware of the table, the room, and most importantly, the fact that he's been talking for a damn while now. Long enough that his paper has shifted a few inches from all the pointing. Long enough that he's been... himself. His eyes flick up from the tapestry. They flick to you, then to Jasper, then to Macy. All the excitement drains out of his expression, leaving behind pure embarrassment. @@.vincent;"Oh crap,"@@ Vincent blurts. He laughs, one of those awkward little laughs that's trying really hard to pretend this isn't mortifying. @@.vincent;"Oh my God,"@@ he says again, cheeks flushing fast. @@.vincent;"I-I'm sorry."@@ You blink, caught off guard. @@.player;"For what?"@@ Vincent's shoulders draw in slightly, trying to take up less space again. @@.vincent;"I've been... talking,"@@ he says, as if this is a crime. @@.vincent;"I've been talking a lot."@@ Macy looks confused, like she's genuinely not sure what Vincent thinks he did wrong. @@.vincent;"I do this. I always do this. It's just... when I get started, I don't stop, and then people get bored, and they don't say anything because at first they're being polite, and then they start looking at their phone, and then someone makes a joke, and, and, and..."@@ He cuts himself off, flustered. @@.vincent;"And I'm sorry. I'm being annoying."@@ The last part is quieter, as if he's bracing for impact. You look at him and it hits you how automatic this is for him. He didn't even hesitate to assume everyone secretly hated it. He talks as if he's done this exact routine enough times that his brain just knows the steps. Jasper leans forward, eyebrows raised. @@.jasper;"Dude, I wasn't bored."@@ Macy nods so aggressively her pink bun wobbles. @@.macy;"Same. I was literally listening. I was picturing tiny deformed ancient horses."@@ Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"You were?"@@ @@.macy;"Yes,"@@ Macy says, dead serious. @@.macy;"I was picturing them as horseboys in love. That's, like, the highest honor I can give anything."@@ @@.vincent;"Oh no,"@@ Vincent says, laughing. You snort. Macy's being Macy, as per usual, but she's also trying. In her own little chaotic way, of course. You lean in a little, voice soft. @@.player;"Vincent, I actually liked it. A lot, actually. I didn't know any of this."@@ @@.vincent;"You're not just saying that?"@@ Vincent asks, uncertain. You shake your head. @@.player;"No. You made it sound interesting."@@ Jasper points at the tapestry like he's backing you up with evidence. @@.jasper;"You were making actual points. It's kind of insane to me that something from that long ago is basically telling a story frame-by-frame. That's cool."@@ @@.macy;"Yeah, you weren't reading us tax code or anything,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"You were talking about history drama. I ''love'' drama!"@@ Vincent's cheeks are still pink, but his expression shifts into disbelief. Like he can't quite accept the idea that people are being sincere. He swallows, fidgeting with the paper. @@.vincent;"I just... don't usually get to talk about it for this long,"@@ he admits. @@.vincent;"Most people don't like it. Or they pretend they do, and then they do that thing where they're like, 'ask Vincent about history,' like it's a bit, and then they just laugh at me when I get excited."@@ @@.macy;"That's so mean,"@@ Macy says, face dropping instantly. Vincent shrugs, but it's a tired shrug. @@.vincent;"It's fine. I'm used to it. I know I talk too much and I know it's annoying."@@ @@.player;"It's not annoying,"@@ you say immediately. Jasper nods. @@.jasper;"Yeah. That's not annoying. If anything, it shows you care about something."@@ Macy stares at Vincent like she's about to fight someone on his behalf. @@.macy;"Name who's done that to you. I just wanna talk."@@ Vincent lets out a surprised laugh, and it breaks the tension. His shoulders loosen as his eyes brighten again. @@.vincent;"You guys are really okay with it?"@@ he asks, voice hopeful. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.jasper;"Of course,"@@ Jasper adds. Macy points at him. @@.macy;"Vincent. We are ''literally'' sitting at an art table. Listening to people talk about art is, like, the whole point."@@ Vincent blinks, like he can't quite process that this is real. Then he smiles. Not a nervous smile or a polite one, but a real one. Bright and warm and a little shy. He's realizing that this isn't the kind of group that's just tolerating him. @@.vincent;"Okay, then,"@@ he says quietly, still smiling. @@.vincent;"Okay. Um..."@@ He glances down at the tapestry again, fingers smoothing the paper once more. @@.vincent;"Well,"@@ Vincent says, voice returning to a happy cadence, @@.vincent;"if you're really sure you don't hate me, then I //have// to tell you the part with the comet."@@ Macy gasps. @@.macy;"WAIT. There's a comet?"@@ @@.jasper;"You're powering him up, Macy,"@@ Jasper says, grinning. You can't help but smile too. Vincent's lighting up, the excitement returning even stronger than before now that he knows nobody's going to punish him for it. @@.vincent;"Okay,"@@ he says, voice bright. @@.vincent;"So, about that comet."@@ <<button "Happy Vincent" "Day 23 - 24">><</button>>

By the time class is about to end, it feels like your table has lived an entire separate life from the rest of the classroom. The vibe has shifted to something easy, and it's clear that the four of you are not just classmates making polite conversation anymore. You guys have become friends. Laughing too loud, leaning in, whispering while Ms. Delgado talks. Ms. Delgado has you do a couple more activities. Timed sketches, a challenge where you draw with your non-dominant hand, a fast gesture drawing where the goal is literally just to capture movement. Macy's page ends up looking like a possessed shrimp. At one point, Macy tries to draw Jasper's hand and ends up giving him eight fingers. @@.jasper;"Damn,"@@ Jasper says, leaning over and frowning. @@.jasper;"So you think I'm a spider."@@ Macy nods seriously. @@.macy;"Yes. A handsome spider."@@ Vincent, who has been laughing more in this class than you've ever seen him do before, wheezes out, @@.vincent;"That's... that's ''not'' a compliment."@@ @@.macy;"It is if you're like me,"@@ Macy says, like that explains everything. Even Vincent has gotten comfortable enough to start throwing in little jokes without immediately panicking afterward. When Jasper messes up a line on his sketch, Vincent goes, very casually, @@.vincent;"It's okay. We can say that it's just your artistic interpretation of reality."@@ @@.jasper;"Did you just roast me politely?"@@ Jasper asks, staring at Vincent. Vincent smiles, shy but proud. @@.vincent;"Maybe a little."@@ @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you say, almost choking on your laugh. @@.player;"He's learning."@@ @@.jasper;"Don't encourage him,"@@ Jasper says, but he's smiling too. @@.player;"Hmm,"@@ you hum. @@.player;"It //is// kind of fun though."@@ Macy nudges Vincent's elbow like they've been friends for years instead of... what, an hour? @@.macy;"See? You're funny. You've been hiding it."@@ Vincent's cheeks turn pink again. @@.vincent;"I wasn't hiding it! I was... storing it."@@ @@.player;"Like a squirrel?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"Yes,"@@ Vincent says, nodding. Macy slaps the table. @@.macy;"That's actually adorable."@@ For a while, it's just like that. Small jokes, shared looks, Jasper and Macy bickering like it's their natural state of existence, Vincent jumping in with a witty comment here and there, and you realize you're smiling so much your face kind of hurts. It's fun! Like... actually fun. And then, somewhere in the middle of another laugh, Vincent goes quiet. He stops smiling, his gaze drops to his desk, his shoulders lower a little, and his hands come to a rest on the table. It's subtle, but it's enough. Jasper notices too. @@.jasper;"Uh... Vincent?"@@ @@.macy;"Why do you look like you just remembered boys' love manga isn't real?"@@ Macy asks, blinking at him. @@.player;"You alright?"@@ you ask, leaning in a little. Vincent hesitates like he's deciding whether or not to lie before exhaling through his nose. @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ he says quietly. @@.vincent;"I'm okay. It's just..."@@ He glances up at the clock on the wall, and you follow his eyes without thinking. There's still time left, but not much. It's going to be time to pack up soon. Vincent looks back down again, then finally says it. @@.vincent;"I don't want this class to end."@@ Macy stares at him for a second, then her expression melts. She's genuinely gentle for once instead of chaotic. @@.macy;"Aw."@@ @@.jasper;"Huh,"@@ Jasper says, eyebrows lifting. @@.player;"Like, why so?"@@ you ask, caught off guard by his honesty. Vincent rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed to admit this out loud, but he keeps going anyway. @@.vincent;"It's just... I've never had this much fun in a class before. Like, I keep waiting for it to stop being fun, and it's not stopping."@@ @@.macy;"Vincent Sinclair is experiencing joy,"@@ Macy says, leaning forward with huge eyes. @@.macy;"Everyone be quiet."@@ Vincent makes a weird noise. @@.vincent;"Macy—"@@ @@.jasper;"You said you dropped AP Physics C for this, right?"@@ Jasper asks. @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ Vincent says, gaze flicking to the side like he's remembering it. @@.vincent;"And it's kinda funny if you think about it because in Physics, I used to sit there and just count down the minutes until it ended. Every single day. Like I wanted the bell to save me. I didn't hate it, I just... didn't feel anything. It was just numbers and stress for a college application."@@ You nod. @@.vincent;"But here,"@@ Vincent says, and his voice warms again, @@.vincent;"I'm not counting down. I'm not waiting for it to be over. I'm actually... having fun. And now it's almost over, and I have to go to another AP class after this and my brain's going to get shoved back into spreadsheet mode."@@ Macy gasps. @@.macy;"Not spreadsheet mode!"@@ @@.jasper;"The spreadsheets are evil,"@@ Jasper murmurs. @@.vincent;"Yeah, they are evil,"@@ Vincent says, smiling a little. @@.vincent;"And it just sucks because I don't want it to stop."@@ The table goes quiet for a second as everyone thinks. Then Jasper sits up straighter. @@.jasper;"Okay,"@@ he says, like this is obvious. @@.jasper;"Then... just don't let it stop."@@ @@.vincent;"What?"@@ Vincent asks, blinking. Jasper gestures gently between the four of you. @@.jasper;"We can hang out after school today. It doesn't have to end when the bell rings."@@ @@.player;"We could, yeah,"@@ you echo. Vincent just stares at him, caught off guard. It's like the idea literally never occurred to him. A bit amusing, considering how smart he is. @@.macy;"Wait, actually, yes,"@@ Macy says, lighting up again. @@.macy;"Jasper and I were already gonna go out after school anyway."@@ @@.jasper;"We were?"@@ Jasper asks. @@.macy;"Oh my God,"@@ Macy says, sighing at him like he's an idiot. @@.macy;"We literally talked about it yesterday. We were going to go to the mall and hit the art stores."@@ Jasper pauses, then nods slowly. @@.jasper;"Ohhh, right. Yeah. The backpack thing."@@ @@.vincent;"The backpack thing?"@@ Vincent asks, confused. Macy swings her bag up onto the table with a dramatic thud like she's presenting it. Her backpack is covered in little pins and keychains and charms. @@.macy;"This,"@@ Macy says proudly, patting it. @@.macy;"Is a backpack with personality."@@ @@.player;"...I can tell, yes,"@@ you murmur, looking at the two yaoi plushies hanging off of it. @@.jasper;"It's also a weapon,"@@ Jasper adds without missing a beat. @@.jasper;"If she hits you with it, you ''die''."@@ Macy grins. @@.macy;"That's right!"@@ Then she points straight at Vincent. @@.macy;"And your backpack needs an upgrade,"@@ she says, like she's delivering a diagnosis. Vincent's head jerks back. @@.vincent;"What???"@@ Macy doesn't even blink. @@.macy;"It's boring."@@ Vincent sits up straighter, instantly defensive. @@.vincent;"What's wrong with my backpack???"@@ You glance at Vincent's bag hanging off the side of his chair. It's... fine. It's a normal backpack. Plain, black, practical, zero decorations. It looks like it was purchased specifically to not draw attention. @@.macy;"It has no flair, no whimsy, no soul!"@@ Macy declares, eyes blazing. Vincent stares at her like she's speaking another language. @@.vincent;"It holds books."@@ @@.player;"He does have a point there,"@@ you say. @@.macy;"No he doesn't!"@@ Macy says, slapping your arm. @@.macy;"That's like saying food is just fuel."@@ Vincent looks genuinely horrified. @@.vincent;"Food //is// just fuel."@@ Macy stares at him like she's about to start crying. @@.macy;"Oh. My. God."@@ @@.player;"Vincent, she's not saying your backpack is, like, bad or anything,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"She's saying it's emotionally blank."@@ Vincent looks at you like that somehow makes even less sense. @@.vincent;"Emotionally blank?"@@ @@.jasper;"That it is,"@@ Jasper says, nodding seriously. @@.jasper;"You can fix that with a robot keychain."@@ @@.macy;"No,"@@ Macy says firmly. @@.macy;"We are ''not'' turning Vincent into you."@@ Jasper shrugs. @@.jasper;"I don't see why we shouldn't."@@ @@.macy;"Because Vincent needs something classy,"@@ Macy says instantly. @@.vincent;"So, the point you're making here is that you want to go shopping?"@@ Vincent asks. @@.macy;"No, no, no, not shopping,"@@ Macy corrects. @@.macy;"Curating."@@ @@.jasper;"Spending money,"@@ Jasper says. @@.macy;"Curating."@@ You grin, looking between them. @@.player;"So you guys are going to the mall and art stores after school to fancy up the backpacks?"@@ Macy nods rapidly. @@.macy;"Yes. And Vincent is coming."@@ Vincent opens his mouth, probably to protest on instinct, but Jasper cuts in before he can. @@.jasper;"Come with us,"@@ Jasper says confidently. @@.jasper;"You said you didn't want it to end. We'll just keep hanging out after."@@ Vincent hesitates, eyes flicking down again like he's scared to want that too much. But then he looks up at all three of you, and you can see the hope and tiny happiness in his face. @@.vincent;"...Alright,"@@ he whispers. Macy beams. @@.macy;"Yesss. Okay. Good. It's decided."@@ Vincent laughs again, the sound lighter now. @@.vincent;"But I'm not going to buy ten things, alright?"@@ @@.jasper;"We'll start with one,"@@ Jasper says, nodding. @@.jasper;"One pin. Just a nice, minimal upgrade."@@ @@.macy;"One?"@@ Macy asks, seeming offended. @@.macy;"We'll start with three."@@ Vincent sputters. @@.vincent;"Three?!"@@ You laugh, leaning back in your chair. @@.player;"We're getting you a backpack makeover after school today, Vincent,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.vincent;"After school,"@@ he repeats, like he's confirming it out loud so it becomes real. @@.jasper;"After school,"@@ Jasper confirms. And by the time the bell rings a few minutes later, it doesn't feel like the fun is ending anymore. It just feels like there's more to come. <<button "Operation Backpack" "Day 23 - 25">><</button>>

By the time you get to the mall, it already feels like you've stepped into a completely different universe from school. Instead of bells and teachers hovering around you, there's just shiny floors and air that smells like perfumes. Macy is thriving. The second you step past the entrance, she spins around to face all of you, pink hair glowing under the bright mall lights. @@.macy;"Okay,"@@ she announces, clapping her hands once. @@.macy;"Mission time."@@ @@.jasper;"Oh no,"@@ Jasper groans. Vincent flinches a little at the sudden energy shift, but he's smiling anyway, hovering near you like he's still not fully convinced this is real. Like at any moment everyone might point at him, start laughing, and go //can't believe you fell for that, nerd.// You nudge him lightly as you walk. @@.player;"You good, Vinny?"@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ Vincent says, nodding. @@.vincent;"I've just... I don't really come to the mall much."@@ @@.macy;"How tragic,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"Don't worry, though. We'll fix that."@@ @@.jasper;"We really shouldn't,"@@ Jasper mutters. Macy ignores him and turns toward you instead, eyes sparkling. @@.macy;"First stop,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"Backpacks."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Backpacks?"@@ @@.macy;"Yes,"@@ Macy says firmly. @@.macy;"Vincent needs one with personality."@@ Vincent immediately tightens his grip on his current backpack strap like it's being threatened. @@.vincent;"Hey! I quite like my backpack."@@ Macy waves him off. @@.macy;"C'mon, it's so boring. It's like an NPC backpack."@@ @@.vincent;"It holds books and it holds them well,"@@ Vincent says defensively. @@.macy;"It holds sadness,"@@ Macy argues. @@.jasper;"She's gonna make your backpack cry,"@@ Jasper says, snorting. @@.macy;"Don't undermine my authority,"@@ Macy says. Then she looks at you. @@.macy;"And $name,"@@ she continues with zero hesitation, @@.macy;"you also need a new backpack."@@ You freeze, suddenly thrust into Vincent's position. @@.player;"What??? What's wrong with my backpack?"@@ @@.macy;"Bro, what's wrong?"@@ Macy asks, staring at you like it's obvious. @@.macy;"It's khaki. And tan."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Okay... and?"@@ @@.macy;"Oh my God, you're getting a new one,"@@ Macy says, exasperated. You look down like your backpack is suddenly going to look different if you glare at it hard enough. It doesn't. It's still the same boring, practical bag you've had forever. @@.player;"...Fair,"@@ you admit reluctantly. @@.macy;"Yesss,"@@ Macy says, eyes widening in victory. Vincent, meanwhile, looks between you and Macy, still clutching his own bag like it's his emotional support object. @@.vincent;"I really don't think $name's backpack is that bad."@@ @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you say. Macy gasps like she's being attacked from all sides. @@.macy;"Vincent! You can't defend him! He's in the tan zone!"@@ Vincent smiles, small and cute and unsure, like he's still trying to find his footing in all this chaos. @@.vincent;"I just... I like practical backpacks."@@ @@.macy;"Fineee,"@@ Macy says, groaning dramatically. @@.macy;"You can keep your little backpack."@@ @@.vincent;"Great,"@@ Vincent says, brightening instantly. @@.macy;"But,"@@ Macy adds, finger raised, @@.macy;"it still needs an upgrade. A pin, a keychain, something, anything."@@ Vincent nods carefully. @@.vincent;"I can do one pin."@@ Macy clasps her hands together like she's about to cry. @@.macy;"He's evolving."@@ Jasper leans over to you. @@.jasper;"It's like watching a baby deer take its first steps."@@ @@.player;"It really is,"@@ you respond. Vincent hears that and flushes. @@.vincent;"I am not a baby deer."@@ Nobody believes him. You laugh and tug your backpack strap higher on your shoulder. @@.player;"So what, you're saying I need a new backpack and accessories?"@@ @@.macy;"Yes."@@ You sigh. Jasper shakes his head. @@.jasper;"I shouldn't have come today."@@ Macy spins and starts walking again, and without even thinking about it, you fall into step with the group. It's as if this is normal. Like this is just what you do after school now, walk through the mall with a pink-haired yaoi gremlin, a chubby mecha nerd, and a nervous history nerd who smiles like he's still surprised anyone invited him. Time to get a backpack. <<button "What backpack to get?" "Day 23 - 26">><</button>>

The backpack section of the store is an explosion of "back to school" energy, even though most of Crestview Bay has been back at school for a while now. Bright lights bounce off shiny floors, and the walls are stacked with bags in every shape imaginable. There are some tiny ones that look like they could hold exactly one (1) chapstick next to huge hiking ones that look like you're about to climb Everest. Macy spots what she wants almost immediately, eyes locking onto a display. @@.macy;"Okay,"@@ she says, already marching with purpose, your sleeve in her hand. @@.macy;"$name. Come here. This is real important."@@ You let yourself get tugged around, bracing yourself for whatever judgment is about to be delivered. She ends up stopping in front of a big display with a bunch of backpacks that are the same shape and style. The logo on the front reads ''JenSport''. Macy points at them proudly. @@.macy;"These are the latest trend!"@@ she announces. @@.macy;"Everybody's getting a JenSport. It's like... //the// backpack."@@ @@.vincent;"Isn't the whole point of a backpack just to hold your stuff?"@@ Vincent asks. Macy waves one hand like you're all missing the bigger picture. @@.macy;"Sure. But now it also holds vibes. It tells people who you are."@@ Jasper drifts up behind you, hands in his pockets, already smiling like he's here to watch chaos unfold. Vincent follows more slowly, glancing around the store, clearly overwhelmed. It still seems exciting to him though, maybe because he's doing this with actual friends. @@.player;"You didn't seem like the type to follow trends,"@@ you say, glancing sideways at Macy. The words come out a little sharper than you meant them to, and you realize immediately that you didn't phrase it the best. @@.macy;"...What does that mean?"@@ she asks, voice calm in a terrifying way. You blink, instantly regretting your life choices. @@.player;"It means... uh..."@@ Jasper lets out a chuckle, like he knows he's about to witness your death. Vincent's eyes widen a little, and he says your name quietly. @@.vincent;"$name."@@ You scramble, holding up your hands. @@.player;"No, I didn't mean it in a bad way. I just meant you seem to like doing your own thing."@@ Macy's eyes narrow further. @@.macy;"Okay. But was that a compliment or were you insulting me?"@@ You hesitate for a little too long. @@.macy;"OH MY GOD IT WAS MEAN!"@@ Macy exclaims, pointing at you. @@.player;"It wasn't even that mean,"@@ you argue. @@.player;"It was like a playful insult."@@ Jasper starts laughing, shoulders shaking. @@.jasper;"Playful insult is insane, dude."@@ Vincent coughs into his hand, clearly trying to hide a laugh. Even his eyes are smiling, which makes you feel slightly less doomed. Macy folds her arms. @@.macy;"Explain immediately."@@ @@.player;"Okay, fine,"@@ you say, giving up. @@.player;"I just thought you'd hate something everyone else has."@@ Macy stares at you like you just accused her of something horrible. @@.macy;"I //do// hate things everyone else has."@@ @@.player;"Then why are we at the wall with the trendy backpacks?"@@ you ask, gesturing at the JenSport backpacks. Macy opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again, and closes it again. You can practically see her brain building an argument in real time. Then she taps the fabric of one of the bags like she's presenting evidence. @@.macy;"Because,"@@ she says, very slowly, @@.macy;"sometimes trends are trends because they're actually good."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Uh huh."@@ @@.macy;"It's sturdy,"@@ Macy continues, tapping again. @@.macy;"The straps don't kill your shoulders. It holds everything without looking bulky. You can throw it around and it won't disintegrate into dust. And it looks cute."@@ You glance at the bag again. It's simple, but not ugly. Clean and simple, definitely more durable than your current backpack. @@.macy;"And even if it's trendy, it's still a hundred times better than ''tan'', $name,"@@ Macy adds. You wince. @@.player;"Okay, yeah, I get it. I've gotten enough shit over my fashion."@@ @@.vincent;"They //do// look nice,"@@ Vincent says, nodding thoughtfully. @@.vincent;"And surprisingly practical, for a trend at least."@@ Jasper squints at the colors, then points at one. @@.jasper;"Blue is the best. Easy, not too loud, not boring."@@ Vincent's eyes flick over the wall, and he gestures softly toward another. @@.vincent;"I like the green one. It's... calming."@@ Macy waves both of them off like she doesn't care which color they like, because this is your problem now. @@.macy;"Honestly, $name, just pick literally anything. Black. Blue. Green. Lavender. Orange. White. Yellow. Red. That's what's there. Any of them are better than tan."@@ You stare at the options, eyes bouncing across the wall of JenSport backpacks, trying to decide which color you like the most. <<button "Black backpack" "Day 23 - 27">>\<<set $d23backpack to "black">><<unlockBackpackAccessory "backpack" "black">><<modifyBackpack "backpack" "black">>\<</button>> <<button "Blue backpack" "Day 23 - 27">>\<<set $d23backpack to "blue">><<unlockBackpackAccessory "backpack" "blue">><<modifyBackpack "backpack" "blue">>\<</button>> <<button "Green backpack" "Day 23 - 27">>\<<set $d23backpack to "green">><<unlockBackpackAccessory "backpack" "green">><<modifyBackpack "backpack" "green">>\<</button>> <<button "Lavender backpack" "Day 23 - 27">>\<<set $d23backpack to "lavender">><<unlockBackpackAccessory "backpack" "lavender">><<modifyBackpack "backpack" "lavender">>\<</button>> <<button "Orange backpack" "Day 23 - 27">>\<<set $d23backpack to "orange">><<unlockBackpackAccessory "backpack" "orange">><<modifyBackpack "backpack" "orange">>\<</button>> <<button "White backpack" "Day 23 - 27">>\<<set $d23backpack to "white">><<unlockBackpackAccessory "backpack" "white">><<modifyBackpack "backpack" "white">>\<</button>> <<button "Yellow backpack" "Day 23 - 27">>\<<set $d23backpack to "yellow">><<unlockBackpackAccessory "backpack" "yellow">><<modifyBackpack "backpack" "yellow">>\<</button>> <<button "Red backpack" "Day 23 - 27">>\<<set $d23backpack to "red">><<unlockBackpackAccessory "backpack" "red">><<modifyBackpack "backpack" "red">>\<</button>>

<<if $d23backpack is "black">>\ You stare at the wall of colors for a few seconds too long, like you're trying to tell the future from polyester. Eventually, though, you reach out and tug the black JenSport off its hook. It's the safest option. The one that says you want to survive high school with your dignity intact. You sling it over your shoulder to test it out and find that it's comfortable. The straps sit right, it's light, and it's plain, but in a clean way. It's as if it's supposed to be plain. Macy squints at it like she's judging you. @@.macy;"Black?"@@ @@.player;"What's wrong with black?"@@ you ask, defensive already. @@.macy;"It's giving... default character,"@@ Macy says, waving her hand vaguely. @@.macy;"Like you spawned in with the starter outfit and never bothered to change things."@@ Jasper snorts. @@.jasper;"Black is classic."@@ @@.macy;"Black is boring,"@@ Macy argues. Vincent shifts closer, looking at the bag carefully. @@.vincent;"It's practical and it goes with everything,"@@ he offers. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"That's the point."@@ Macy sighs like you've personally ruined her day. @@.macy;"Fine! It's fine. At least it's not tan. I'll allow it."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You'll allow it?"@@ @@.macy;"Yes,"@@ Macy says, as if it's some great honor. @@.macy;"But you're going to need to put something cute on it. Like a charm. Something so people know you have a soul."@@ @@.jasper;"I think that's a fair compromise,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. Vincent smiles shyly. @@.vincent;"We can find something that fits you."@@ <<elseif $d23backpack is "blue">>\ You hover your hand over a few choices, but end up grabbing the blue one. It's a nice blue too, clean and calm. The kind of color that makes you look put together. You swing it onto your shoulder and bounce once, just to test it. It's comfortable and it looks good. You kinda hate that it looks good. Jasper points immediately like he's proud of you. @@.jasper;"Yes! Blue. That's the correct answer."@@ @@.vincent;"I quite like that one,"@@ Vincent says, small smile forming. @@.vincent;"It's really nice."@@ Macy stares at it. @@.macy;"Hmmm..."@@ @@.player;"Don't 'hmmm' me,"@@ you say, narrowing your eyes. @@.player;"What's wrong with blue?"@@ @@.macy;"It's giving middle school field trip,"@@ Macy says after a second. @@.macy;"Like you're about to get on a bus with a packed lunch and a laminated name tag."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, making a face. Jasper laughs loudly. @@.jasper;"She's crazy. Blue is sick."@@ Vincent tries to sound diplomatic, but he's clearly smiling at her joke. @@.vincent;"It's a good color. Not too flashy."@@ @@.macy;"I'm just saying you could've done better,"@@ Macy says, convinced she's right. @@.player;"It's a backpack,"@@ you say, exasperated. @@.player;"Why are you treating it like a personality quiz?"@@ @@.macy;"'Cause it is,"@@ Macy replies. @@.player;"Whatever,"@@ you say, sighing and adjusting the strap. @@.player;"I like it."@@ @@.macy;"Whatever!"@@ Macy echoes, throwing her hands up. @@.macy;"Do your thing. I'll fix it with accessories."@@ <<elseif $d23backpack is "green">>\ Your hand hovers over a few options, and then you pick up the green one. It's just a calm pastel green, and it makes you seem like you'd own at least one plant. You slip it onto your shoulder and glance at yourself in the little mirror display nearby. It looks surprisingly good. You're not sure why, but it just does. @@.vincent;"Oh!"@@ Vincent says, eyes brightening. @@.vincent;"That one's really nice."@@ Jasper nods. @@.jasper;"Green's good. Not as good as blue, but good. It's different without being weird."@@ Macy squints like she's trying to be mad but struggling to find a reason why. @@.macy;"Okay... why do you suddenly look like you'd be in a nature documentary?"@@ @@.player;"What does that even mean?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.macy;"It means you look like you're about to run away into the woods and discover your inner self,"@@ Macy says dramatically. @@.macy;"Like you're about to journal on a tree stump."@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"She's always so damn specific."@@ @@.vincent;"That's not even an insult,"@@ Vincent murmurs, confused. @@.macy;"It is if he starts journaling,"@@ Macy warns. You tug the strap tighter. @@.player;"I picked green because it's a normal color."@@ @@.macy;"it's giving... 'I drink matcha and carry around a tote bag,'"@@ Macy says, pointing at the bag. You stare at her. @@.player;"Why are you like this?"@@ @@.vincent;"Well, I think it suits you,"@@ Vincent reassures, although he's clearly amused. @@.jasper;"Just ignore her, $name,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"She's allergic to peace."@@ Macy gasps. @@.macy;"I am NOT allergic to peace."@@ @@.player;"You are,"@@ you respond. <<elseif $d23backpack is "lavender">>\ You hesitate at first, not sure if you should choose lavender or not. But your hand keeps drifting back to it anyway, like it's magnetized. Eventually, you end up pulling the lavender JenSport off the hook. The color is soft and clean, like pastel but not washed out. It's cute, it's pretty, it's the color you find yourself really liking lately. Lavender has been feeling nice these last few weeks. Like it fits you just right. You slide it onto your shoulder and the strap settles perfectly, like it belongs there. Jasper lets out a whistle of approval. @@.jasper;"Okay, wait. That's actually really good."@@ @@.vincent;"It looks really nice on you,"@@ Vincent says, smiling. You glance toward Macy, half expecting her to verbally execute you. But instead, she just stares. Then she nods once, like she's approving something important. @@.macy;"Oh,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"Yeah..."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.player;"What is that meant to mean?"@@ Macy crosses her arms, but she's smiling in that smug, victorious way. @@.macy;"That one is good."@@ @@.jasper;"No complaints?"@@ Jasper asks, confused. @@.jasper;"None?"@@ @@.macy;"Don't ruin this for me, Jasper!"@@ Macy complains. @@.macy;"I'm having a rare moment where I'm actually satisfied with someone else's choice."@@ You look down at the lavender backpack again, and your chest does that tiny little warm thing it's been doing quite often lately. You try to ignore it, opting to adjust the strap and shrug like it's no big deal. @@.player;"It's just a color,"@@ you mumble. @@.macy;"It's a vibe,"@@ Macy corrects. @@.macy;"It's giving soft protagonist. It's giving main character glow. It's giving—"@@ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you cut in fast. @@.player;"That's enough."@@ Vincent laughs quietly, eyes bright. @@.vincent;"I like it. A lot, actually."@@ @@.jasper;"Same,"@@ Jasper says, nodding. @@.jasper;"Lavender's a win."@@ Macy points at the bag like she owns it now. @@.macy;"Good. That's the one. We're done here."@@ <<elseif $d23backpack is "orange">>\ You grab the orange one because you want to prove you're capable of a decision that isn't safe. The second you take it off the hook, though, you already feel like you've made a mistake. You sling it over your shoulder anyway and try to look like you're not instantly self-conscious. @@.jasper;"You're brave, aren't you?"@@ Jasper asks, raising his eyebrows. @@.vincent;"It's certainly bright,"@@ Vincent says, a little surprised. Macy stares at you like you just committed a crime. @@.macy;"Orange?"@@ @@.player;"Yes,"@@ you say, trying to be confident. @@.player;"I chose orange."@@ Macy leans in and whispers something devastating. @@.macy;"You look like a walking traffic cone."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you say, nearly choking. Jasper laughs so hard he has to bend forward. @@.jasper;"Walking traffic cone is crazy."@@ @@.vincent;"I think it actually looks good,"@@ Vincent says, jumping in to try and save you. @@.vincent;"It's just... very noticeable."@@ @@.macy;"That's the problem!"@@ Macy says instantly. @@.macy;"I feel $name isn't built for 'very noticeable' at the moment. Right now he's perfect to just exist quietly in the background."@@ You glare at her. @@.player;"I can be noticeable."@@ @@.macy;"You're already blushing, though,"@@ Macy says, pointing at your face. @@.player;"...Shut up."@@ @@.jasper;"Orange is cool, man,"@@ Jasper says, patting your shoulder. @@.jasper;"Don't let her bully you."@@ @@.macy;"I was just trying to protect the public from being flashbanged by a backpack,"@@ Macy nurmurs. <<elseif $d23backpack is "white">>\ You grab the white one purely because it looks clean and really cool. Once you lift it though, you realize the obvious problem. It's white, meaning it will //stay// white for about three days. You sling it over your shoulder anyway, testing the weight. And damn, it honestly looks sharp. The white is simple and aesthetic. @@.jasper;"I've gotta admit,"@@ Jasper says, nodding, @@.jasper;"that's kinda nice."@@ Vincent smiles. @@.vincent;"It looks really clean."@@ Macy stares at it in horror. @@.macy;"No."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.macy;"$name, it's ''white'',"@@ Macy says, like she's personally offended by your choice. @@.macy;"That thing's gonna be stained in one week."@@ You shrug. @@.player;I can be careful."@@ Jasper bursts out laughing. @@.jasper;"He cannot."@@ @@.vincent;"It might be hard to keep it clean,"@@ Vincent says, trying to break the news to you gently. @@.vincent;"I'm not doubting you at all! It's just... they're notoriously hard to keep clean."@@ Macy makes a dramatic noise. @@.macy;"You're going to set it down on the floor once and it'll absorb the entire mall's grime."@@ You glare at her. @@.player;"I'm not a messy person."@@ @@.macy;"Have you seen your sketchbook?"@@ Macy asks, eyes narrowed. @@.macy;"You are absolutely a messy person."@@ @@.player;"...That's not evidence."@@ @@.jasper;"You can get it, but know that that backpack is living on borrowed time,"@@ Jasper comments, grinning. @@.vincent;"It //is// really pretty,"@@ Vincent says sympathetically. Macy sighs. @@.macy;"If you choose it, you'd better take good care of it."@@ <<elseif $d23backpack is "yellow">>\ You pull the yellow one off the hook because it looks kind of cheerful and bright, and for a second you convince yourself you can be the kind of happy person who has a bright backpack. You sling it over and immediately feel like a highlighter. @@.jasper;"That's bold,"@@ Jasper says, squinting. @@.vincent;"It's really bright,"@@ Vincent says, smiling. @@.vincent;"In a good way, of course."@@ Macy stares at you. @@.macy;"You look like a walking banana."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, nearly choking. Jasper starts laughing. @@.jasper;"Walking banana?"@@ @@.vincent;"I'm sorry,"@@ Vincent says, covering his mouth with his shoulders shaking. @@.vincent;"I'm really sorry."@@ You glare at Macy. @@.player;"That's not even an insult. That's just... fruit."@@ Macy nods. @@.macy;"Exactly. You're fruit-coded now."@@ @@.player;"Yellow is a nice color!"@@ you say, tugging the strap like it'll help. @@.vincent;"It is,"@@ Vincent says quickly, trying to be supportive. @@.vincent;"It's happy."@@ Jasper nods. @@.jasper;"Yeah. It's like... sunny."@@ @@.macy;"Y'all are being way too nice,"@@ Macy murmurs. <<elseif $d23backpack is "red">>\ You grab the red one because you feel confident and you feel like you have something to prove. Red is ''bold''. Red is ''intense''. Red is the color of someone who knows what the hell they want! You're not sure if that person is you, but you try anyway. You sling it over your shoulder and look at the wall display like you're waiting for it to judge you back. Jasper nods approvingly. @@.jasper;"Okay. Red. That's sick."@@ @@.vincent;"It really stands out!"@@ Vincent says, a little surprised but pleased. Macy stares for a second, then makes a face like she just tasted something really weird. @@.macy;"Red?"@@ You immediately get defensive. @@.player;"What's wrong with red?"@@ @@.macy;"Nothing's wrong with red,"@@ Macy says, waving a hand. @@.macy;"It's just you look like you're about to join a sports team."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"She's right. You look like team captain."@@ @@.vincent;"It does certainly feel confident,"@@ Vincent comments. @@.macy;"You're not built for red, $name,"@@ Macy says, calling you out. @@.macy;"Red is for people who slam doors and make dramatic eye contact. Like Jordan Brooks!"@@ @@.player;"I can make dramatic eye contact,"@@ you say, squinting. Macy looks you in the eye. @@.macy;"Do it, then."@@ You try for half a second and end up failing and looking away. @@.macy;"Exactly,"@@ Macy says smugly. Jasper pats your shoulder. @@.jasper;"Don't worry, man. Red's cool."@@ Vincent nods enthusiastically. @@.vincent;"It's good and strong."@@ <</if>>\ You adjust the strap on your shoulder, exhale through your nose, and give Macy a long look. @@.player;"You know,"@@ you mutter, @@.player;"you're seriously reminding me of my friend Samantha right now."@@ Macy's head snaps toward you so fast her hair literally whips. @@.macy;"Samantha???"@@ she gasps, delighted. @@.macy;"Wait. Who is she? Is she cool? Is she funny? Is she into boys' love? Is she like, //really// into boys' love? Does she read yaoi manga? Does she have taste? Is she hot? Is she the type to ship—"@@ @@.jasper;"Macy,"@@ Jasper cuts in, already laughing. @@.jasper;"Calm. Breathe."@@ Vincent looks amused and curious at the same time. @@.vincent;"So there are more Macies."@@ @@.player;"She's just like you,"@@ you say. Macy leans closer, eyes sparkling. @@.macy;"So she //is// cool."@@ @@.player;"She's mean and loves insulting people,"@@ you deadpan. Macy freezes. @@.macy;"Excuse me?"@@ @@.jasper;"They really are similar, then,"@@ Jasper says snorting. Vincent blinks, then smiles awkwardly like he's not sure if he's allowed to laugh. @@.vincent;"That's... a very specific comparison."@@ @@.macy;"I am not mean, I am helpful,"@@ Macy says, seeming betrayed and offended all at once. @@.macy;"Tell Samantha I'm cooler than her. Like, ''way'' cooler."@@ You snort. @@.player;"She'd insult you so bad you'd start crying."@@ @@.macy;"I would NOT,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"I would win."@@ @@.player;"Sure,"@@ you say, laughing as Macy rages. <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 28">><</button>>

The backpack decision somehow doesn't even feel like it was important anymore. Why? Because the main event, according to Macy, is accessories. The second she gets over your choice of backpack, she moves on to the customization. So you're barely five steps away from the JenSport wall when Macy whips around and goes, @@.macy;"Okay! So now we fix it."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Fix what?"@@ @@.macy;"Your backpack, duh,"@@ Macy says, looking at you like you're the dumbest person alive. @@.macy;"It's naked."@@ @@.player;"It's a backpack."@@ @@.macy;"It has no accessories,"@@ Macy says, dead serious. @@.macy;"It needs a keychain. Something iconic that says you're an actual person with taste and a personality and dreams and all that human stuff."@@ Jasper trails behind with his hands in his pockets, sounding exhausted already. @@.jasper;"She's going to say this then complain no matter what keychain you choose."@@ Vincent walks beside you, quiet but smiling softly. He's been doing that soft little smile ever since art class ended. He keeps glancing around the mall like it's a new environment he's still getting used to, but he doesn't look anxious anymore. He looks cautious, sure, but delighted nonetheless. @@.player;"You don't usually come to the mall?"@@ you ask him, mostly to check in. @@.vincent;"Not really, no,"@@ Vincent says, shaking his head. @@.vincent;"I mean, I've been here a few times, but not like this."@@ @@.jasper;"Like this?"@@ Jasper echoes. Vincent's ears go faintly pink. @@.vincent;"With people and a purpose and fun."@@ @@.macy;"Vincent, oh my God,"@@ she says, sounding like she's struggling to register how sad that sounds. @@.macy;"We're going to fix your entire life."@@ @@.vincent;"That's a lot of pressure,"@@ Vincent says, chuckling. @@.macy;"It's fine,"@@ Macy says breezily. @@.macy;"I ''thrive'' under pressure. Okay, let's see here—"@@ She stops at a rotating display rack absolutely stuffed with little dangling things. There are plush charms, acrylics, rubber keyrings shaped like food, tiny animals with stupid little faces, and more. The whole rack jingles slightly when she touches it. @@.vincent;"Oh my,"@@ Vincent says, eyes widening in a way that's almost childlike. @@.vincent;"There's... a lot."@@ @@.macy;"It's the keychain ecosystem,"@@ Macy says reverently. @@.macy;"This is where backpacks go to become powerful."@@ @@.jasper;"I can't believe you're saying that sentence out loud,"@@ Jasper says, making a noise of disbelief. @@.jasper;"Why do I even talk to you?"@@ Vincent squints at a small charm shaped like a loaf of bread with an angry face. @@.vincent;"Why is the bread mad?"@@ @@.macy;"Because it's French,"@@ Macy replies instantly. Vincent looks like he wants to defend France but also knows he can't win. @@.vincent;"I'm French,"@@ he ends up squeaking out. You snort, and Vincent glances at you with a small smile like he's pleased you're having a good time. Macy is already rifling through the rack like she's speedrunning. @@.macy;"Okay, $name, I have found your destiny!"@@ @@.player;"How terrifying,"@@ you mutter. She pulls out three keychains and lines them up in her hands. Vincent leans in too, looking genuinely invested in Macy's crazy antics. He's not hovering around anxiously anymore, he's here and he's a part of it. Macy holds up the first option. A tiny plush shark keychain, pale blue and soft, with a sleepy little expression like it's about to fall over. The tag reads ''SOVHAJ'' in bold letters. @@.player;"Sovhaj?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.macy;"YES!"@@ Macy exclaims, as if you just spoke the name of her favorite celebrity. @@.macy;"Sovhaj."@@ @@.jasper;"That ain't a thing,"@@ Jasper says, squinting at it. @@.macy;"Well, it //is// a thing,"@@ Macy says, offended. @@.macy;"If anything, it is //the// thing."@@ Vincent reaches out carefully, like he's worried the shark might be fragile, and gently pokes it with one finger. @@.vincent;"It's really cute,"@@ he says, voice soft with sincerity. @@.vincent;"Look at its little face. It looks like it's about to take a nap in your pocket."@@ @@.macy;"Exactly,"@@ Macy agrees. @@.macy;"It's emotional support, comfort, and internet culture all in one. What a perfect first keychain."@@ @@.jasper;"So what you're saying is that it's a meme?"@@ Jasper asks, raising an eyebrow. Macy nods fiercely. @@.macy;"Sovhaj blew up online. Like, I'm telling you, people were obsessed. It became this whole thing where everyone had one and took pictures of it doing human stuff. Like reading a book or hanging out with other Sovhajar. It's even a keychain now 'cause the furniture company that makes it or whatever saw the opportunity and went for it."@@ You turn the shark over in your hand. it really is soft. The shape is simple but charming in it's own strange little way that makes you want to squish it. //Squish// Yeah, you fell for it. Vincent smiles at it, then looks at you. @@.vincent;"I feel this would actually fit you well,"@@ he says carefully. @@.vincent;"It's kind of comforting. Not to mention the two of you match because you also always look tired."@@ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"I didn't mean that in a mean way!"@@ Vincent says, trying to correct his mistake. @@.jasper;"I mean, he //is// kind of right,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.macy;"Yeah, you kinda give sleepy,"@@ Macy says. @@.player;"I'm putting the damn shark down,"@@ you say, groaning. The shark is swapped for the second option. A capybara plush keychain, round and brown and looking very disappointed. @@.jasper;"Oh wow, they're cashing in,"@@ Jasper says, knowing exactly what's going on here. @@.player;"Cash in on what?"@@ you ask. @@.jasper;"Capybaras got insanely popular online,"@@ Jasper says, poking the capybara once like he's testing it. @@.jasper;"For no damn reason, too. Suddenly everyone was like 'capybara is the best animal ever,' and now every store is like 'please buy our capybaras.'"@@ @@.macy;"There's just big big guinea pigs,"@@ Macy comments. Vincent's eyes brighten again, and you can practically feel him trying to hold back a fact before it escapes. @@.vincent;"You're not wrong,"@@ he says, smiling like he's proud Macy got close. @@.vincent;"Capybaras are actually the largest rodents in the world. They're native to South America, and they're known for being really social and weirdly calm. Like, they just sit there. They'll sit with other animals like it's nothing."@@ @@.jasper;"You know capybara facts too?"@@ Jasper asks. @@.jasper;"What does this guy not know, man."@@ @@.vincent;"I've seen documentaries,"@@ Vincent says, giving a tiny shrug. @@.vincent;"Not to mention I read things."@@ @@.macy;"I would love a capybara boy, he'd be so cute,"@@ Macy says, unbothered. You snort. @@.player;"The hell are capybara boys?"@@ @@.vincent;"What does that even mean?"@@ Vincent asks, shaking his head like he can't believe his life is like this now. @@.macy;"It means when one is calm and unbothered,"@@ Macy says, poking the capybara's face. @@.macy;"That's a capybara boy."@@ @@.vincent;"The plushie does look pretty peaceful,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"It's staring into the middle distance while thinking about nothing."@@ @@.jasper;"Now that's relatable,"@@ Jasper says. You hold the capybara for a second, staring at its blank face. It does make you feel strangely safe. Macy snatches the capybara from you and holds up the third option. It's a monarch butterfly charm, orange wings with black outlines and white dots. It's not a plushie like the others, but it also catches light in a way the capybara and shark don't. @@.macy;"So pretty,"@@ Macy says, expression soft. Jasper squints. @@.jasper;"You know butterflies are bugs, right?"@@ @@.macy;"Shut up."@@ @@.jasper;"That's an insect,"@@ Jasper insists, because he clearly cannot help himself from ruining Macy's mood. @@.macy;"I don't care, alright, Jasper?"@@ Macy says, trying to dismiss his (correct) claim. @@.macy;"It's cute. It's pretty. it's not one of the gross bugs."@@ @@.vincent;"That's actually kind of a thing,"@@ Vincent says thoughtfully. @@.vincent;"People love butterflies because they're pretty but they hate moths even though moths are very similar."@@ @@.macy;"Yeah, moths are ugly,"@@ Macy says. @@.vincent;"It's like pretty privilege, don't you think?"@@ Vincent says. @@.jasper;"It kind of //is// pretty privilege,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.jasper;"Pretty privilege exists even for bugs. Damn."@@ @@.vincent;"It's true!"@@ Vincent says, sounding confident. @@.vincent;"Butterflies get treated like they're magic while moths get treated like dusty little nuisances."@@ @@.macy;"There //are// dusty little nuisances,"@@ Macy counters. @@.vincent;"This is a prime example of lookism,"@@ Vincent says. Macy beams. @@.macy;"Thank you."@@ @@.vincent;"The butterfly is kind of nice though, isn't it?"@@ Vincent says, glancing at the monarch charm. @@.vincent;"Like, delicate. It would look good on a bag."@@ Jasper looks confused. @@.jasper;"Are you into the butterfly?"@@ Vincent flushes again. @@.vincent;"It's just... nice,"@@ he says simply. @@.vincent;"And it's not too loud."@@ @@.player;"So he's into it,"@@ you say, chuckling. Macy coos like she's caught him being adorable. @@.macy;"Vincent likes the pretty butterfly. That's so cute."@@ Vincent makes a helpless sound. @@.vincent;"Please stop announcing my preferences like that. I'm not an endangered species."@@ @@.jasper;"Art and history nerd? You kind of //are// an endangered species,"@@ Jasper observes, grinning. @@.vincent;"Great,"@@ Vincent says, rolling his eyes. The three options sit in Macy's hands. A sleep shark, an unbothered capybara, and a delicate butterfly. @@.macy;"This is your first keychain moment, $name,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"You'd better choose wisely."@@ @@.jasper;"If you choose wrong, your backpack will reject you,"@@ Jasper says. @@.vincent;"Honestly, I think all of them would work,"@@ Vincent says, soft and encouraging. @@.vincent;"It's just whatever you feel like the most."@@ Which one feels right? <<button "Sovhaj the shark" "Day 23 - 29">>\<<set $d23keychain to "blahaj">><<unlockBackpackAccessory "keychain" "blahaj">><<modifyBackpack "keychain" "blahaj">>\<</button>> <<button "Nonchalant capybara" "Day 23 - 29">>\<<set $d23keychain to "capybara">><<unlockBackpackAccessory "keychain" "capybara">><<modifyBackpack "keychain" "capybara">>\<</button>> <<button "Pretty butterfly" "Day 23 - 29">>\<<set $d23keychain to "butterfly">><<unlockBackpackAccessory "keychain" "butterfly">><<modifyBackpack "keychain" "butterfly">>\<</button>>

You stare at the three options like you're choosing a starter Pokoban. A decision that will determine the rest of your (backpack's) life. Macy's eyes are practically glowing as she holds them out, looking like she's a drug dealer. @@.jasper;"This is a whole lot of pressure over a keychain,"@@ Jasper says, leaning against the rack with smug confidence. Vincent's watching quietly, simply happy to be here doing this with you guys. <<if $d23keychain is "blahaj">>\ <<grantAchievement "D23Keychain0">>\ You pick up the sleepy shark again. The little plush is soft and slightly squished, looking super peaceful. It looks like it's never expressed stress even once in its life. Like it never even had homework. You poke its head with your thumb and it bounces back. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say with a loud sigh. @@.player;"This one is kind of stupidly cute."@@ @@.macy;"Correct!"@@ Macy says, nodding dramatically. @@.jasper;"He's falling for it,"@@ Jasper says, smirking. You glare at him. @@.player;"It's not 'falling.' It's just appreciating something nice."@@ @@.vincent;"It is really soft,"@@ Vincent says, stroking the sovhaj's head. @@.vincent;"And it looks like it would forgive you for everything."@@ @@.player;"Why would I need forgiveness from a keychain?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"I didn't mean it like that!"@@ Vincent says, immediately flushing. @@.vincent;"I just mean it has a forgiving aura."@@ @@.jasper;"Hmm, I guess I can see that,"@@ Jasper says. You hold the shark up next to your backpack zipper and imagine it dangling there, just chilling sleepily while you study or walk down the hallway. It's... kind of nice? @@.player;"...Fine,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Sovhaj it is."@@ Macy gasps. @@.macy;"YES!"@@ @@.player;"Don't celebrate yet,"@@ you say, trying to calm her down. @@.player;"I'm not emotionally attached, alright? I'm just purchasing a sleep shark for practical reason."@@ @@.macy;"No one purchases a sleep shark for practical reasons,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"You purchase it because your soul is healing. Because you finally realized that khaki backpack was ''not'' it."@@ @@.jasper;"Who wants to bet he names it by the end of the week?"@@ Jasper asks, collecting bets. @@.player;"I am ''not'' naming it,"@@ you argue instantly. Vincent says quietly, @@.vincent;"You could name it something like... Stella."@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"Stella?"@@ Vincent shrugs. He looks a little embarrassed but comfortable enough that he doesn't mind being silly. @@.vincent;"Stella the Sovhaj. It's kind of funny."@@ @@.macy;"He gets it,"@@ Macy says, looking proud of Vincent. @@.player;"It doesn't matter, because I'm not naming it,"@@ you assert, even though you're already thinking of naming it. You hold it and glance back at Macy. @@.player;"So you approve of this one, right?"@@ Macy's expression immediately changes. She squints at the shark like she's reconsidering everything. @@.macy;"Actually, it might be //too// trendy,"@@ she says slowly. You blink. @@.player;"You ''literally'' recommended it."@@ @@.macy;"I did!"@@ Macy agrees. @@.macy;"But now that you chose it, I'm thinking... do we want you to be like everyone else online? I don't know about that."@@ Jasper bursts out laughing. @@.jasper;"Man, she's impossible."@@ @@.player;"You're mad at me for choosing one of the three you picked out,"@@ you say, staring at Macy in disbelief. @@.macy;"I'm not mad,"@@ Macy insists. @@.macy;"Just a little disappointed."@@ Vincent laughs quietly, then surprises you by speaking up. @@.vincent;"Honestly, I think it's perfect,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"It's cute but not... obnoxious. I think Sovhaj is way better than those weird creatures that everyone likes."@@ @@.player;"Nibubus?"@@ you ask, thinking of the ugly little critters with too many teeth. @@.vincent;"Yeah, they're scary,"@@ Vincent says, nose scrunching up. @@.vincent;"I don't know, though. I haven't really ever picked stuff up because they looked cute or because they make me happy. I usually just buy whatever's practical and end it there."@@ @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ he echoes. @@.vincent;"But this is kind of nice. You're allowed to have little things you like, even if they don't matter."@@ @@.macy;"Exactly,"@@ Macy says, hands clasped together like he's preaching. @@.jasper;"Vincent, my friend, you are having a character arc,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"You're realizing how one should live life."@@ @@.player;"So you're basically saying the shark is important?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"Maybe a little."@@ You attach Sovhaj to the zipper of the backpack before you can overthink it, and it dangles there like it belongs. @@.macy;"Fine, it's cute,"@@ Macy says, sighing dramatically. @@.macy;"I ''hate'' it."@@ @@.player;"You're insane,"@@ you mutter. <<elseif $d23keychain is "capybara">>\ <<grantAchievement "D23Keychain1">>\ Your eyes keep drifting back to the capybara. It's round, calm, round, and unbothered. Did you mention it was round? Very round, in fact. It looks like it's seen the worst things in the universe and decided none of it is actually worth reacting to. Isn't that kind of aspirational? You pick it up, holding it in your palm. It's soft, and its face so blank it almost feels like it's judging you. @@.jasper;"This one's got emotional stability,"@@ Jasper says, pointing at it. @@.jasper;"Look at the chubby guy. He's achieved nirvana."@@ @@.macy;"$name choosing peace is suspicous,"@@ Macy says, squinting. @@.player;"I can choose peace,"@@ you say, glaring at her. @@.macy;"Did you see your drawings?"@@ Macy asks. @@.macy;"That's not peaceful person art. That's the art of a chaotic person."@@ @@.jasper;"She's right,"@@ Jasper says, losing it. @@.jasper;"Your art //was// pretty crazy."@@ Vincent lets out a small laugh too, then quickly recovers because he's still not fully used to laughing in a group. @@.vincent;"I think your art can be peaceful."@@ You nod at Vincent since he's your only ally. @@.player;"Thank you."@@ You hold the capybara up next to your backpack strap. It's stupidly perfect there, as if it was meant to hang there. It silently absorbs the stress through osmosis. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you decide. @@.player;"Capybara."@@ Macy gasps like you slapped her. @@.macy;"WHAT?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"What do you mean what?"@@ @@.macy;"That is the //least// $name keychain I've ever seen,"@@ Macy says, horrified. @@.player;"YOU PICKED IT!"@@ you say. Macy throws her hands up. @@.macy;"Yes, but I didn't think you'd actually choose it. I thought it would just... sit there as an option!"@@ @@.player;"That makes no damn sense,"@@ you argue. Vincent smiles, glancing between the two of you like he's watching a chaotic tennis match. @@.vincent;"For what it's worth, I think it's a good choice."@@ @@.macy;"Don't encourage him,"@@ Macy snarls. @@.vincent;"Why not?"@@ Vincent asks, looking mildly offended. @@.vincent;"It's cute."@@ Jasper nods. @@.jasper;"Not to mention it's a rodent."@@ @@.vincent;"It's a rodent!"@@ Vindent says, perking up. @@.vincent;"The largest rodent."@@ @@.player;"Vincent, you're really happy about that fact,"@@ you say. Vincent's cheeks go pink but he doesn't back down. @@.vincent;"I just... capybaras are kind of fascinating. They're everyone's friends. They'll sit next to birds or dogs or even crocodiles and just exist. They're social animals."@@ @@.macy;"That doesn't fit then,"@@ Macy says, making a face. @@.macy;"$name is ''not'' everyone's friend."@@ @@.player;"Hello?"@@ you say, wondering why you just got randomly offended. @@.jasper;"Sounds accurate to me,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.vincent;"I think that's a good thing,"@@ Vincent says softly. @@.vincent;"$name is selective and chooses good friends because he //is// a good friend."@@ That lands pretty damn hard. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, looking away and pretending you're inspecting the stitching on the backpack. @@.player;"Selective."@@ When you go to attach the capybara to your bag, Vincent leans in and helps without even thinking, holding the metal clip steady. @@.vincent;"Here,"@@ he says, voice gentle. @@.vincent;"These can be annoying sometimes."@@ You watch how focused he gets on this tiny thing, his eyebrows pinching together as if he's stlll in AP Physics. He clips it on, then pulls back like he's worried he touched your stuff without permission. @@.vincent;"Sorry if you didn't want me to do that,"@@ he apologizes. @@.vincent;"I just wanted to help."@@ @@.player;"it's fine,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"Thanks."@@ @@.macy;"It's giving $name is gonna start drinking herbal tea,"@@ Macy says, sighing as she watches the capybara dangle. @@.jasper;"Sourced from a Buddhist spring or something,"@@ Jasper adds. @@.player;"I'm not doing that,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.jasper;"You definitely are,"@@ Jasper insists. @@.vincent;"It's a good, calm keychain,"@@ Vincent says. @@.player;"So you approve?"@@ you ask, glancing at him. @@.vincent;"I do."@@ @@.macy;"Fine, I'll admit it's cute,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"But we're giving it a name."@@ @@.jasper;"That's a fine idea,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"That capy deserves a name."@@ @@.player;"It really doesn't,"@@ you say. @@.macy;"Yes it does,"@@ Macy says instantly. @@.macy;"Capybara deserves a title."@@ @@.vincent;"Emperor Capyabra,"@@ Vincent mutters reverently. You stare at him. @@.player;"Did you just make it historical?"@@ Vincent flushes. @@.vincent;"I didn't mean to, but it just happened."@@ Jasper pats him on the shoulder. @@.jasper;"Never change."@@ <<elseif $d23keychain is "butterfly">>\ <<grantAchievement "D23Keychain2">>\ You keep picking up the butterfly, setting it down, then picking it up again. It's not plush like the other two are, being made of some other material instead. The wings are bright orange with sharp black lines, and it catches the overhead lights in a rather beautiful way. It almost seems too pretty to be a keychain. Macy leans in first, squinting at it. @@.macy;"Oooh,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"Hold up. That one's actually ''really'' cute."@@ Jasper raises an eyebrow like he's just witnessed history. @@.jasper;"You, Macy Graham, like the bug?"@@ @@.macy;"Don't use my last name!"@@ Macy snaps. Then adds, @@.macy;"And it's not a bug, alright?"@@ @@.vincent;"Butterflies //are// bugs, actually,"@@ Vincent corrects. @@.macy;"Okay, fine, it's a bug!"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"But it's a cute bug, alright?"@@ @@.vincent;"I guess butterflies get special treatment,"@@ Vincent teases, amused. @@.macy;"Like, butterflies aren't in the same category as a gross, scary bug,"@@ Macy asserts. @@.macy;"They're not //cockroaches//, they're butterflies. They're basically fashion."@@ You turn the charm between your fingers, feeling the weight of it. It's not overly sparkly but has just enough spark to make it feel special. You could actually have it on your backpack without everyone at school staring at you. @@.player;"It //is// kinda pretty,"@@ you admit. Vincent nods, approval clear in his expression. @@.vincent;"It is very pretty. Monarch butterflies are iconic. Not to mention they migrate really long distances."@@ @@.jasper;"They do?"@@ Jasper asks. Vincent perks up, excited but still trying to keep it casual. @@.vincent;"Yeah. They travel thousands of miles. It's kind of insane. They're small, but they do something huge."@@ @@.jasper;"Vincent's somehow making butterflies inspirational,"@@ he says, smirking. Vincent flushes a little, but he doesn't shut down. He just smiles and shrugs. @@.vincent;"I just think it's neat."@@ You hold it up against your backpack zipper, imagining it dangling there. It adds a little pop of color without turning your whole life into some kind of statement. It's just barely noticeable, which is perfect. @@.player;"I think I want this one,"@@ you say. Macy freezes, her expression changing like someone flipped a switch. @@.macy;"...Oh,"@@ she says slowly. You narrow your eyes. @@.player;"Why did you say it like that?"@@ Macy leans closer, squinting at the butterfly again like it betrayed her. @@.macy;"I don't know, dude. Now that you're actually //choosing// it, it's suddenly looking..."@@ @@.jasper;"Like what, Macy?"@@ Jasper asks, exasperated already. @@.jasper;"What does it look like?"@@ @@.macy;"It's looking kind of... buggy now,"@@ she finishes. You stare at her for a few seconds, flabbergasted. @@.player;"You literally loved it two seconds ago."@@ @@.macy;"I know!"@@ Macy says, frustrated, as if she's also confused by her own brain. @@.macy;"When it was just an option, it was cute. Now that you've chosen it, it's as if you're committing to the insect lifestyle. I don't like it."@@ @@.jasper;"Oh my God, I should've chosen another table,"@@ Jasper mumbles to himself. @@.jasper;"$name and Vincent don't deserve this insect lifestyle shit."@@ Vincent covers his mouth, shoulders shaking, then quickly drops his hand and just laughs. It's as if he realized laughing would only enhance the moment not ruin it. @@.vincent;"I think it still looks cute,"@@ he says sincerely. @@.vincent;"It suits you."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I'm going butterfly,"@@ you say. Macy throws her hands up like you've ruined everything. @@.macy;"Fine! If you wanna be a bug person, be a bug person."@@ @@.player;"I'm not a bug person,"@@ you protest, clipping the charm onto the zipper anyway. @@.jasper;"You are now,"@@ Jasper says with a grin. @@.jasper;"I've learned not to defy Macy, and you should learn that too."@@ The monarch butterfly dangles there, swaying slightly. It looks good, making your backpack feel less like school equipment and more like something that's actually yours. Macy stares at it one more time before sighing dramatically. @@.macy;"Okay! It is cute, but I'm still mad about it."@@ @@.player;"You're always mad about something,"@@ you observe. @@.jasper;"Preach,"@@ Jasper mutters. @@.vincent;"I'm glad you picked something you like,"@@ Vincent says. @@.player;"Me too,"@@ you echo. <</if>>\ <<button "You have a keychain now!" "Day 23 - 30">><</button>>

<<set $bra to $d18bra>>\ You finally step out of the house after what feels like an entire battle of getting ready. You //think// you remembered to brush your teeth, even if you can't remember doing it. Your hair has at least decided to cooperate, and your backpack has been zipped twice because you forgot to put something in the first time. The door clicks shut behind you, and the cool morning air hits your face. It's strong, and the cold helps to reboot your brain. You pause on the front step for half a second, stretching your shoulders and mentally calculating how late you are. You're not too late. You're pretty sure you'll make it to homeroom in time. You're just... later than you tend to be. You glance up, and somehow, someway, Luke is standing there. He's just chilling, messenger bag on the floor, hands stuffed into his pockets. When he spots you, his entire face lights up immediately. @@.luke;"There you are!"@@ Luke says brightly. @@.luke;"I was starting to think you died. I would be really sad if you did. I'd be the only target for Samantha's bullying."@@ You just stand there, staring at him for a while before finally speaking. @@.player;"Luke."@@ @@.luke;"$name!"@@ @@.player;"You waited for me?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"Yeah!"@@ You blink. @@.player;"Why?"@@ He shrugs, completely unbothered. @@.luke;"Felt like it."@@ @@.player;"Why didn't you just go to school without me?"@@ you ask, squinting at him. There was ''definitely'' something up with this guy. @@.player;"You've never waited this long before. I'm, like, twenty minutes late."@@ Luke rocks on his heels, thinking about it way harder than the question deserves. @@.luke;"Man, I dunno,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"I just had this feeling you'd show up today."@@ @@.player;"That is not an explanation,"@@ you say flatly. @@.luke;"It is if you don't think about it too much."@@ You sigh, start walking anyway, and Luke immediately falls into step beside you. Same pace, same side of the sidewalk, same unconscious choreography you've been doing for years. It's familiar and, in a weird way, calming. @@.luke;"You're usually out here by, like, 7:10,"@@ he adds, glancing at you. @@.luke;"See, I almost walked off without you, but then I was like... nah. I'd stay."@@ @@.player;"Why did you decide to stay, though?"@@ you press. Luke grins. @@.luke;"Because I had a dream."@@ @@.player;"I'm sorry?"@@ @@.luke;"A dream,"@@ he repeats, nodding seriously. @@.luke;"A very important dream, actually."@@ You stop walking altogether. @@.player;"So you waited for me because of a dream."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah!"@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"Luke."@@ @@.luke;"Okay, hear me out before you start judging,"@@ he says quickly, holding up his hands. @@.luke;"It made sense in context."@@ @@.player;"What context?"@@ @@.luke;"The dream context."@@ You rub your face. @@.player;"Alright, just tell me. What was the dream?"@@ Luke's eyes light up in excitement. @@.luke;"Okay, so first of all,"@@ he says, @@.luke;"we were on a pirate ship. But it was also the school at the same time. It was like... fused."@@ @@.player;"Of course it was."@@ @@.luke;"Like, there were lockers on the deck and everything. And then the bell rang, but instead of the usual bell, it was a guy yelling 'YO HO' really loudly and aggressively."@@ You open your mouth, then close it. @@.luke;"But you weren't there yet,"@@ Luke continues, completely serious. @@.luke;"I was all worried, 'cause you were late, but then suddenly the ocean turned into a parking lot, and everyone was driving boats like cars."@@ @@.player;"What? Why?"@@ @@.luke;"I don't know,"@@ Luke says cheerfully. @@.luke;"Dream rules."@@ He gestures wildly as he talks, clearly reliving it. @@.luke;"Anyway, Samantha was there, but she was a pigeon. Like a mean pigeon. She kept stealing people's lunches and yelling insults in Spanish. She kept saying 'puta madre!'"@@ @@.player;"That's just Samantha normally,"@@ you mutter. @@.luke;"And then, finally, you showed up!"@@ Luke exclaims, pointing at you triumphantly. @@.luke;"You were riding a skateboard that was also on fire, but you were totally fine. You said, and I quote, 'Relax, I've got this, dude,' and then the whole ship exploded into confetti."@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"That's... insane."@@ @@.luke;"Oh, it gets even better,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Coach Blake was there too, but she was, like, twelve feet tall and made of chalk. She kept erasing people who were late with a really big pencil."@@ You physically shudder. @@.player;"That's horrifying."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, but you weren't erased,"@@ Luke says proudly. @@.luke;"You made it just in time. So I figured that you'd show up today. It only makes sense."@@ There's a long pause before you start laughing. Not a polite one, but a real one. Just at how fucking zany Luke's dream was. Tired, breathless, slightly unhiged, but genuine. Luke beams like he's won the lottery. @@.player;"You are unbelievable,"@@ you say once you can breathe again. @@.luke;"But I was right,"@@ he points out. @@.luke;"I'm, like, a prophet."@@ @@.player;"Maybe you are,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You're also a golden retriever."@@ @@.luke;"I am?"@@ he asks. @@.player;"You were one when I was hallucinating,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I imagined you as a dog and Samantha as a cat talking to me."@@ @@.luke;"Was I cute?"@@ Luke asks, curious. @@.player;"You were."@@ @@.luke;"Yesss,"@@ Luke says, pumping his fist. @@.player;"Thanks for waiting,"@@ you say, glancing at him. @@.luke;"I knew you'd show up,"@@ he says, a goofy grin on his face. This time, you don't argue. <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 4">><</button>>

The moment the keychain situation is settled, Macy immediately pivots to the next topic. @@.macy;"Okay, keychain secured!"@@ she says, clapping her hands softly. @@.macy;"Now we do pins."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Pins?"@@ @@.macy;"Yes, Pins,"@@ Macy says, pointing at your bag. @@.macy;"$name, look, you can't just have //one// accessory and call it a day. That's simply not how backpacks work. You need at least three pins."@@ @@.player;"At least three,"@@ you mutter, staring at her. @@.macy;"Yes, at least,"@@ Macy repeats, totally serious. @@.macy;"Three is the minimum for the backpack to have a personality. Otherwise it's just a bag wearing jewelry. Ugly!"@@ @@.jasper;"Man, I don't know about that,"@@ Jasper says, letting out a long sigh. @@.jasper;"Three is insane for a beginner."@@ @@.macy;"Oh my God, Jasper, stop acting like pins are a dangerous drug,"@@ Macy complains. @@.jasper;"Listen to me for a sec,"@@ Jasper says, holding up a finger. @@.jasper;"One pin is good enough for someone new. It's like easing into it. You don't throw a whole wardrobe at someone on day one, you know what I mean?"@@ @@.macy;"That analogy does not work because it's not a wardrobe,"@@ Macy argues. @@.macy;"It's art."@@ @@.jasper;"It's social survival,"@@ Jasper counters. @@.jasper;"$name shows up tomorrow with a bag covered in pins like yours and he's gonna get stared at."@@ You blink. @@.player;"I will?"@@ @@.jasper;"You will,"@@ Jasper echoes, nodding seriously. @@.jasper;"People will look and it won't be in the good way because they think it's cool. They'll be wondering what the hell happened to you overnight."@@ @@.macy;"What's wrong with more pins?"@@ Macy asks, sounding very insulting. @@.macy;"Look at mine!"@@ She swings her bag around for emphasis, and you've got to admit it's pretty damn impressive. Her backpack is armored with pins, charms, plushies, acrylic straps, and a few things you can't even identify. The thing jingles faintly and you feel like it's Macy's theme song. @@.jasper;"I decline to comment,"@@ Jasper says, looking away. @@.macy;"Comment,"@@ Macy demands. @@.jasper;"No,"@@ Jasper insists. @@.macy;"COMMENT."@@ @@.jasper;"I am ''not'' falling for it,"@@ Jasper says, shaking his head harder. @@.jasper;"I've seen what happens when someone criticizes your bag. You go feral."@@ @@.player;"I can see that,"@@ you murmur. @@.macy;"$name, don't team up with him,"@@ Macy says, turning on you. @@.player;"I'm not teaming up,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm just trying not to get socially vaporized due to pins."@@ Vincent, who's been attentively watching the argument, finally speaks up. @@.vincent;"Okay,"@@ he says, holding up two fingers. @@.vincent;"How about we compromise at two pins?"@@ Macy squints at him suspiciously. @@.macy;"Two???"@@ @@.vincent;"Two is a good middle ground,"@@ Vincent says, nodding earnestly. @@.vincent;"It's enough to show personality, but not so many that $name feels overwhelmed. And if he likes it, he can always add more later."@@ @@.jasper;"Vincent gets it,"@@ Jasper declares, a proud expression on his face. @@.jasper;"That's a reasonable person."@@ @@.macy;"I hate that your calm logic is working,"@@ Macy says, eyes narrowing. @@.vincent;"It's just a suggestion,"@@ Vincent says, flushing a little at the attention. You glance between the three of them, feeling weirdly grateful that they're arguing about your backpack accessories like it actually matters or something. The fact that they care enough to have opinions at all feels ridiculous in the best way. @@.player;"Okay, so let me review my options here,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"So I choose one pin if I want to stay alive at school, two pins if I want compromise, or three pins if I want Macy to stop bullying you."@@ @@.macy;"I'm not bullying you,"@@ Macy says. Jasper snorts. @@.jasper;"She's guiding you aggressively."@@ Vincent smiles. @@.vincent;"We can call it supportive intimidation."@@ @@.macy;"Vincent!"@@ Macy exclaims, gasping. Vincent laughs brightly, and it makes Macy looks weirdly pleased even though she's pretending she's offended. You look down at your backpack again, keychain dangling quietly, and try to picture it with pins on it. One feels safe, two feels like a step, three feels like a statement. So, what are you going to get? <<button "1 pin" "Day 23 - 31">>\<<set $d23pinnum to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D23_pinnum" "1 pin" "story">><</button>> <<button "2 pin" "Day 23 - 31">>\<<set $d23pinnum to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D23_pinnum" "2 pin" "story">><</button>> <<button "Red pin, blue pin" "Day 23 - 30">><<notify>>This ain't actually an option<</notify>><</button>> <<button "3 pins" "Day 23 - 31">>\<<set $d23pinnum to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D23_pinnum" "3 pins" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d23pinnum is 1>>\ You look at your backpack like it might magically give you an answer before giving up and choosing the safest option. The one that won't get you socially vaporized tomorrow. @@.player;"One pin,"@@ you say firmly. @@.player;"I'm going to start with one."@@ Macy's face goes blank. She's not angry or sad or even disappointed. It just seems like she saw her greatest dream, the only thing she wanted in life, die in front of her. @@.macy;"One,"@@ she repeats. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, trying to sound confident. @@.player;"One is fine."@@ @@.jasper;"Great job, $name,"@@ Jasper says, proudly patting your back. @@.jasper;"That's what I've been saying this whole damn time. One is the beginner-friendly option where we can slowly ease the guy into the accessory lifestyle."@@ @@.macy;"The accessory lifestyle???"@@ Macy says, scandalized. @@.macy;"It's a PIN, Jasper. It's not nicotine, it's not alcohol, it's PINS. And he needs more than ONE PIN."@@ @@.jasper;"It's //social// nicotine,"@@ Jasper counters instantly. @@.jasper;"You either get hooked or you don't. It's better to be safe than sorry."@@ @@.vincent;"One pin is not bad at all."@@ Vincent says, laughing. @@.vincent;"It's a very good amount for a beginner to backpack accessorization."@@ @@.macy;"No, bad Vincent, don't say that,"@@ Macy declares. @@.macy;"Don't enable $name's bad behavior. One pin is what you do when you're in denial."@@ @@.player;"I'm not in denial,"@@ you say, offended. @@.player;"I'm being reasonable."@@ @@.jasper;"You're being humble,"@@ Jasper says, clapping you on the shoulder. @@.jasper;"What a classic $name move."@@ You glance at Jasper. @@.player;"You've known me for, like, two hours now."@@ @@.jasper;"And yet I understand so much about you,"@@ Jasper says, dead serious. @@.vincent;"He does kind of have a point,"@@ Vincent says, enjoying the way Jasper talks with such confidence. @@.vincent;"Jasper knows a lot for two hours."@@ @@.macy;"Oh my God all of this doesn't matter,"@@ Macy groans dramatically, throwing her head back like she's about to collapse. @@.macy;"What matters is the fact that I'm surrounded by cowards."@@ @@.player;"I'm not a coward,"@@ you say, holding your hands up. @@.player;"I just don't want to walk into school tomorrow looking like I swapped bodies with you."@@ Jasper makes a weird face. @@.jasper;"That was a weird image."@@ @@.vincent;"Very weird,"@@ Vincent concurs, nodding sympathetically. @@.macy;"Look, if we do one pin, then we better pick one really good pin,"@@ Macy says, snapping her fingers at you. @@.macy;"One pin that's strong enough to carry your entire personality."@@ You blink. @@.player;"My entire personality??? That feels like too much responsibility for a piece of metal."@@ @@.macy;"Exactly,"@@ Macy says, eyes gleaming. @@.macy;"High stakes."@@ @@.jasper;"He's gonna pick a boring pin to show he's normal,"@@ Jasper says, snorting. @@.player;"I'm just gonna choose something I like,"@@ you counter, glaring at him. @@.vincent;"I think one pin can still be meaningful,"@@ Vincent says, leaning in carefully. @@.vincent;"Like something you genuinely like. It's kind of like... self-expression."@@ @@.macy;"Oh my God, stop being wholesome,"@@ Macy complains. @@.macy;"It makes me feel things. I'm not supposed to feel things unless it's yaoi."@@ @@.vincent;"Sorry,"@@ Vincent says, flushing. You exhale, adjusting your backpack strap, and nod once. @@.player;"One good pin, that's final. After that, you stop talking about me and my backpack like it's a science project."@@ @@.jasper;"I can't promise anything, but I'll try,"@@ Jasper says. <<elseif $d23pinnum is 2>>\ You stare at the backpack for a while before sighing. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I've decided on the compromise. Two pins."@@ @@.vincent;"Yes!"@@ Vincent exclaims, face brightening like you just validated his entire existence. @@.vincent;"Yes, that's good! That's the middle. That's reasonable."@@ @@.jasper;"I approve of that,"@@ Jasper says, nodding approvingly. @@.jasper;"It's like dipping your foot into the water."@@ Macy, however, looks offended. (Although you have to admit that she //always// looks offended.) @@.macy;"Two,"@@ she repeats. @@.macy;"Two pins."@@ You squint at her. @@.player;"Why are you saying it like it's some sort of crime?"@@ @@.macy;"Because it is $name!"@@ Macy says instantly. @@.macy;"Two pins is what you do when you're scared of joy."@@ @@.jasper;"Jesus Christ,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.jasper;"She's unbelievable."@@ You gesture at Macy. @@.player;"You literally suggested three and I got two. That's not that far off. It's very fair, if you ask me."@@ @@.macy;"I don't know, now that I think about it, two feels... timid,"@@ Macy says, tapping her chin dramatically. @@.vincent;"I'm starting to notice a pattern,"@@ Vincent mumbles quietly. @@.player;"What's the pattern?"@@ you ask. Vincent clears his throat, barely holding in his laugh. @@.vincent;"Macy wants you to pick something, and then no matter what you pick, she becomes unhappy with it."@@ Macy gasps. @@.macy;"That is NOT true."@@ @@.jasper;"That's literally just your personality,"@@ Jasper points out. You nod. @@.player;"It's painfully true."@@ Vincent's smile grows, and he looks pleased with himself for saying it out loud. @@.vincent;"It's not a statement, just an observation."@@ @@.macy;"Okay, okay, fine, I'll admit it,"@@ Macy huffs, crossing her arms. @@.macy;"Maybe, just maybe, I do do that a little."@@ @@.jasper;"A little???"@@ Jasper echoes. @@.jasper;"Don't even kid yourself."@@ Macy ignores him and turns back to you, eyes narrowing. @@.macy;"Two pins is acceptable, but they have to be good pins. Like, elite. Strong designs, clean lines, pretty art. The whole package, alright? You can't just pick out random garbage."@@ @@.player;"They're just pins,"@@ you say, blinking. @@.macy;"When they're representing you they're more than 'just pins,'"@@ Macy insists. @@.vincent;"I think two pins is the perfect balance because it gives you options,"@@ Vincent says, nodding thoughtfully. @@.vincent;"Like one can be cute and one cool."@@ @@.player;"That's not a bad idea,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Two pins, and no more debate about the number of pins."@@ Macy claps, energized again. @@.macy;"Great!"@@ <<elseif $d23pinnum is 3>>\ You drag a hand down your face and let out a long breath like you're sacrificing yourself for the better good. @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Three pins. I'll do three."@@ Macy's face lights up. @@.macy;"YES!"@@ @@.jasper;"Oh damn,"@@ Jasper says, eyebrows shooting up. @@.jasper;"I didn't think he'd actually cave."@@ @@.vincent;"Three is actually a lot,"@@ Vincent says. He looks surprised too, but it's a happy surprise. Like he's proud of you for being bold. @@.vincent;"In a good way, of course."@@ @@.player;"Don't get to excited, Macy,"@@ you say, pointing at the gremlin. @@.player;"I'm doing this so you stop looking at me like I'm evil."@@ Macy presses a hand to her chest. @@.macy;"This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me."@@ @@.jasper;"You are so dramatic, Macy,"@@ Jasper mutters. Macy ignores him and grabs your backpack strap gently. @@.macy;"Okay, so we have three pins. That means we can tell a whole story. We've got to make one emotionally devastating."@@ @@.player;"Why do we have to make one emotionally devastating again?"@@ you ask. @@.macy;"Because art is life and life is art,"@@ Macy says instantly, like that answers everything. @@.vincent;"Emotionally devastating is a pretty strong category,"@@ Vincent says, laughing. It's such a bright sound you can tell he's genuinely relaxed now. @@.jasper;"I want the emotionally devastating pin to include a mecha,"@@ Jasper says solemnly. @@.jasper;"Have you ever seen Glimmer Genesis Cherubium? That's mecha and ''really'' fucks with your emotions."@@ @@.player;"I'm good,"@@ you mutter, groaning. @@.macy;"No, actually, that's kinda powerful,"@@ Macy says. @@.player;"You are ''not'' putting trauma on my backpack,"@@ you say, staring at her. Vincent smiles softly. @@.vincent;"Maybe we keep it... slightly less intense than Cherubium."@@ @@.macy;"Fineee,"@@ Macy says, waving a hand. @@.macy;"Cherubium //is// pretty wild. We'll keep it tasteful."@@ @@.jasper;"Tasteful trauma,"@@ Jasper mutters. @@.player;"Okay, okay,"@@ you say, laughing despite yourself. @@.player;"At least you're happy now, Macy. I'm getting three pins."@@ @@.macy;"I //was// happy,"@@ Macy says, beaming. @@.player;"Was?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.vincent;"Macy..."@@ Vincent says, eyes widening a little. @@.macy;"Now that I think about it... three pins isn't enough,"@@ Macy says. You stare at her. @@.player;"Are you kidding me?"@@ @@.vincent;"I'm starting to notice a pattern,"@@ Vincent mumbles quietly. @@.player;"What's the pattern?"@@ you ask. Vincent clears his throat, barely holding in his laugh. @@.vincent;"Macy wants you to pick something, and then no matter what you pick, she becomes unhappy with it."@@ Macy gasps. @@.macy;"That is NOT true."@@ @@.jasper;"That's literally just your personality,"@@ Jasper points out. You nod. @@.player;"It's painfully true."@@ Vincent's smile grows, and he looks pleased with himself for saying it out loud. @@.vincent;"It's not a statement, just an observation."@@ @@.macy;"Okay, okay, fine, I'll admit it,"@@ Macy huffs, crossing her arms. @@.macy;"Maybe, just maybe, I do do that a little."@@ @@.jasper;"A little???"@@ Jasper echoes. @@.jasper;"Don't even kid yourself."@@ @@.vincent;"I think three is more than good,"@@ Vincent says, laughing. @@.vincent;"We should move onto actually picking them out."@@ @@.macy;"...Fine,"@@ Macy says begrudgingly. @@.macy;"Three. For now."@@ @@.player;"Thank God,"@@ you say, exhaling in relief. @@.jasper;"Congrats, $name,"@@ Jasper says, grinning. @@.jasper;"You've survived Macy's customization menu."@@ <</if>>\ Macy immediately pivots into hunt mode, scanning the store aisles like she's about to track prey. Jasper follows, and by the grin on your face, you can tell he's going to heckle Macy. Vincent stays close, looking more open and comfortable than he did earlier, like he's genuinely happy to be doing something this silly with people who actually want him around. @@.macy;"Off we go to find pins!"@@ Macy says, pointing forward with purpose. @@.jasper;"Pin hunting officially begins,"@@ Jasper says, cracking his knuckles dramatically. @@.vincent;"I'll be fun,"@@ Vincent says, with a smile. @@.player;"Okay, well, lead the way,"@@ you mutter, bracing for impact. <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 32">><</button>>

The pin aisle is ''huge''. Unlike what you expected, it's not just a little rack with a few smiley faces and hearts. It's a whole section of the store that looks like a miniature museum exhibit dedicated entirely to turning backpacks (boring) into personality statements (badass). Rows and rows of pin cards line the walls, each one glittering under the store lights. Macy stops at the entrance of the pin section and spreads her arms wide as if she's presenting a sacred temple. @@.macy;"Welcome to the pin zone!"@@ she announces, voice full of drama. Jasper strolls in beside you, looking oddly calm. He seems happy though, like he knows he's about to witness some fun disaster. @@.jasper;"This is where $name's sanity comes to die."@@ @@.player;"I hate that you're right,"@@ you mutter. Vincent hovers close to your shoulders, eyes wide as he scans everything. He looks a bit overwhelmed, but in a good way. Like his brain is trying to process a bunch of really cool information at once. @@.vincent;"There's so many,"@@ he says, sounding genuinely amazed. @@.vincent;"I never knew a store like this existed here."@@ Macy nods like she's proud of the world for inventing pins. @@.macy;"There are pins for every kind of person. And today, we find out what kind of person $name is."@@ @@.player;"I'm the kind of person who wants to go home,"@@ you mutter. @@.jasper;"Weak,"@@ Jasper comments snorting. @@.jasper;"I've been handling Macy for years now. Two hours is nothing for me now."@@ @@.vincent;"I think it'll be fun!"@@ Vincent says, smiling. @@.vincent;"We can get some cool trinkets."@@ @@.player;"You're too optimistic, Vincent,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"I'm trying,"@@ Vincent says, shrugging. That makes Macy's eyes soften for, like, half a second before she remembers she has a reputation to maintain. She steps forward and gestures toward the far wall, where there are several clearly labeled sections on little hanging signs. Four stick out to you though. ''ANIME'' ''QUIRKY CRITTERS'' ''GOTH'' ''TRAINS'' Macy points at them with deadly seriousness. @@.macy;"Okay,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"Important, listen up. We're going to be hitting four pin section categories today. $name will pick the order in which we view them."@@ @@.jasper;"That's a lot of pressure on you, $name,"@@ Jasper says. @@.vincent;"It sounds fun, actually,"@@ Vincent says, shifting his backpack strap higher. @@.player;"When did my life come to this?"@@ you ask, looking between the signs and sighing. Macy ignores that, like she often does, and starts marching you all toward the first sign. She doesn't enter it yet, opting to instead hover in front of it like a tour guide. She points dramatically at ''ANIME''. @@.macy;"Section one,"@@ she announces. @@.macy;"The anime section."@@ @@.jasper;"Well, that one sounds safe,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"Anime pins are normal, right?"@@ @@.vincent;"I'm guessing you like that one?"@@ Vincent asks Macy, eyebrows raised. @@.vincent;"With the art style and boys' love and all."@@ Macy's expression twists into a scowl in an instant. @@.macy;"No,"@@ she says flatly. You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.vincent;"But you like anime, don't you?"@@ Vincent asks, looking genuinely confused. Jasper's eyes widen. @@.jasper;"Vincent, don't try and understand—"@@ @@.macy;"I like //manga//,"@@ Macy corrects sharply, cutting off Jasper's warning. @@.macy;"And not the lame popular stuff."@@ Jasper snorts. @@.jasper;"Oh my God, you got her started."@@ Macy points at the wall of pins in anger. @@.macy;"This section is all the currently popular mainstream things. Like all the cute 'waifus' with big eyes and sparkles. All the popular male characters that everyone pretends they don't have a crush on."@@ You glance at the pins. Even from here, you can recognize many of the characters. @@.vincent;"Some of these are ''really'' well designed, though,"@@ Vincent says, trying to be fair. @@.vincent;"The art is fantastic."@@ @@.macy;"I didn't say they were ugly,"@@ Macy says, still unhappy. @@.macy;"I said they're //lame//. Which they //are//."@@ @@.jasper;"Because they don't have what you want?"@@ Jasper asks, tilting his head. @@.macy;"Yes, because they don't have what I frickin' want!"@@ Macy says, stomping her foot down. @@.macy;"Yaoi. Boys' love. Gay little romance. You know, the best genre ever invented by humanity."@@ Vincent lets out the tiniest chuckle, like he wasn't expecting her to say it that bluntly. @@.jasper;"There it is!"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"The more you know about Macy, the more you realize there's nothing other than yaoi rattling around that brain."@@ @@.macy;"Oh my God, tell me I'm wrong,"@@ Macy says, gesturing violently at the anime pins. @@.macy;"It's mostly the anime girls that everyone loves! Cute girls in cute outfits. And the guys are, like, ALWAYS the same three types. Brooding hot one, loud idiot one, small smart one."@@ @@.player;"I guess that's accurate,"@@ you say, staring. @@.macy;"Thank you,"@@ Macy says, proud. @@.vincent;"So you don't like it because it's not part of your niche?"@@ Vincent asks, looking amused by Macy's antics. @@.macy;"It's not a niche, it's a lifestyle,"@@ Macy snaps. @@.jasper;"Sometimes I fear this isn't a phase,"@@ Jasper mutters. @@.jasper;"I've been waiting for it to end for three years now."@@ Macy leans in closer to you like she's telling you a secret. @@.macy;"The best series are mangas anyway. They don't get popular enough to get anime pins. If they do get an anime, it's twelve episodes and that's it. Tragic."@@ @@.player;"Okay, so you hate this section because it's too popular,"@@ you observe. @@.macy;"Yes,"@@ Macy says instantly. @@.macy;"I have to order ''my'' pins from a random store in China. Do you know how much it costs to ship something over?"@@ @@.jasper;"What a waste of money,"@@ Jasper deadpans. Macy gasps. @@.macy;"It's a great use of money."@@ @@.vincent;"It's okay, we can still take a look,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"There's a reason why they only have popular characters. Those are the ones that actually sell."@@ @@.macy;"Vincent, your level-headedness is ruining my brand,"@@ Macy comments. @@.vincent;"Someone has to do it,"@@ Vincent says, going pink. Macy points at the next sign. ''QUIRKY CRITTERS.'' @@.macy;"Now, section two is Quirky Critters."@@ @@.jasper;"Quirky critters?"@@ Jasper echoes. You blink. @@.player;"The hell is that?"@@ @@.macy;"Oh my God, it's a really popular accessory line right now,"@@ Macy says, nodding dramatically. @@.macy;"They've been blowing up lately. Like, everyone has them."@@ @@.jasper;"What even are they?"@@ Jasper asks, crossing his arms. @@.macy;"They're, like... cute character designs,"@@ Macy says, pointing toward the mall like it's the promised land. @@.macy;"There are a few characters and they all have personality and lore and everything."@@ You squint at the section from where you stand, trying to make out the characters. Something about them feels... weirdly familiar. Like your brain is trying to recognize them. You shake it off. @@.player;"So they're just random characters,"@@ you say cautiously. @@.macy;"Exactly!"@@ Macy says cheerfully. @@.macy;"And let me tell you, people are obsessed. There's merch, there's keychains, there's pins, there's stickers. There are probably plushies somewhere. I heard there's even super rare limited editions."@@ @@.vincent;"So it's like how people collect trading cards,"@@ Vincent observes, nodding thoughtfully. @@.vincent;"Like when Pokoban trading cards were really popular."@@ @@.jasper;"Vincent would collect historical Quirky Critters,"@@ Jasper jokes, snorting. @@.vincent;"No I wouldn't,"@@ Vincent denies, flushing a little. @@.macy;"You absolutely would,"@@ Macy says. Vincent opens his mouth and it looks like he's about to defend himself, but he eventually accepts his fate. @@.vincent;"Okay, fine. Maybe."@@ @@.player;"And you like this section?"@@ you ask Macy. She shrugs. @@.macy;"Better than the anime section."@@ @@.jasper;"That's not saying much,"@@ Jasper mutters. Macy moves to the third sign that says ''GOTH'', pointing at it like she's presenting something gross. @@.macy;"Section three is the goth section,"@@ she says. @@.vincent;"Goth section?"@@ Vincent asks, blinking. @@.jasper;"Oh, that could be cool,"@@ Jasper comments. Macy makes a face. @@.macy;"Ew, it's for emo people, Jasper."@@ @@.jasper;"Goth isn't emo,"@@ Jasper pushes back. @@.macy;"It's all the same vibe,"@@ Macy says dismissively. @@.macy;"Black, chains, spikes, sadness, eyeliner, and bad music."@@ @@.vincent;"I think a lot of it is nice,"@@ Vincent says, unable to stay neutral any longer. @@.vincent;"Like the fashion isn't bad at all."@@ @@.macy;"Vincent, ''please'' don't tell me you're goth,"@@ Macy begs. Vincent panics. @@.vincent;"I'm not! I'm not goth."@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"He'd be pretty cute as a goth."@@ @@.vincent;"I'd rather not,"@@ Vincent murmurs. @@.macy;"Anyway, goth is ugly and emo is lame,"@@ Macy declares. @@.jasper;"You realize that would start a fight somewhere, right?"@@ Jasper says. @@.macy;"Good."@@ @@.player;"Why are we going there then?"@@ you ask, confused. @@.macy;"Because I'm thorough, $name,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"Also it's kinda funny."@@ @@.vincent;"I have to admit I'm rather curious about it now,"@@ Vincent says quietly. @@.vincent;"Only a little, of course."@@ Jasper leans in. @@.jasper;"Vincent secretly wants a makeover with chains."@@ Vincent's voice cracks slightly. @@.vincent;"I do ''not'' want chains."@@ Macy points at the last sign which reads ''TRAINS''. Hell, even the way it's written looks different. It's messy and unpolished, like someone scribbled it out of spite. @@.macy;"And finally,"@@ she says, like she's struggling to accept the words coming out of her mouth, @@.macy;"we have the Train Section."@@ @@.jasper;"No way,"@@ Jasper says, bursting out laughing. Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"There's a... train section?"@@ You stare at the sign. @@.player;"Why is there a train section?"@@ Macy exhales like she's about to vent. @@.macy;"Because a really weird guy came in here and harassed the store owner."@@ @@.jasper;"What do you mean harrassed?"@@ Jasper asks. @@.macy;"Like, he bothered them a lot,'@@ Macy clarifies. @@.macy;"Because he's obsessed with trains. Don't ask me why, I don't know why."@@ @@.vincent;"That's kind of adorable?"@@ Vincent says, looking like he's trying not to smile. @@.macy;"No it ain't,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"It's weird."@@ @@.jasper;"Well, I respect the hustle,"@@ Jasper says grinning. Macy continues. @@.macy;"He kept asking if they had train pins. Every week. Over and over, as if it was his life mission or something. And eventually the store owner was like, 'Fine. Here. Have your stupid train pins and just shut up.'"@@ @@.player;"So they made a section for him?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.macy;"It's one pin,"@@ Macy says, scowling. @@.macy;"One."@@ @@.vincent;"Just one pin?"@@ Vincent asks, confused. @@.macy;"Yes,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"A single train pin that they put in its own section like it's important."@@ Jasper laughs harder. @@.jasper;"Man, that's hilarious."@@ @@.vincent;"I think it's charming,"@@ Vincent says, amused. @@.vincent;"Like... someone cared enough about something that pointless."@@ @@.macy;"Vincent, you'd be friends with the train guy,"@@ Macy says, giggling. Vincent sputters. @@.vincent;"What! No I wouldn't."@@ @@.jasper;"What's your favorite type of train?"@@ Jasper asks. @@.vincent;"I think diesel-electric locomotives are the best for practical use,"@@ Vincent says. @@.jasper;"Yeah, he totally would."@@ @@.player;"Okay, I kinda want to see the train pin now,"@@ you say. Macy groans. @@.macy;"Ugh, of course you do."@@ @@.vincent;"I want to see it too,"@@ Vincent chimes in. @@.jasper;"We're all going to end up getting the train pin ironically."@@ Macy holds up a hand like she's stopping you all. @@.macy;"No we're not. That's not happening."@@ @@.jasper;"You can't stop destiny."@@ Macy glares. @@.macy;"I will fight destiny."@@ <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ <<set $temp3 to false>>\ <<set $temp4 to 0>>\ <<button "Where to go?" "Day 23 - Pin Choice">><</button>>

<<nobr>> <<set $backpackUnlocked to true>> <</nobr>>\ By the time you're finally done, it feels like you've finished an entire project. An entire //production//, really. You've got the backpack in your hands while the three of them hover around you like you're about to reveal a masterpiece. The backpack you chose out actually has personality now, unlike the sad old beige thing you used to have. Macy plants her hands on her hips and leans in, eyes sharp. @@.macy;"Okay. Hold it up, $name."@@ You do, lifting it by the top handle. @@.macy;"No, higher,"@@ Macy corrects. You lift it higher. @@.jasper;"Turn it,"@@ Jasper adds, grinning. @@.jasper;"Let us admire the craftsmanship."@@ You rotate it slowly like you're presenting a product for a commercial. Macy's gaze follows every inch of it like she's scanning for mistakes. The keychain jingles softly when you move it, the pins catch the light, and the whole thing just looks finished. Vincent makes this soft sound of approval under his breath, like he's genuinely impressed. @@.vincent;"That actually came together really well."@@ @@.player;"It did?"@@ you ask, surprised. @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ he says with a nod. @@.vincent;"It looks intentional. Like you didn't just throw random stuff on there."@@ @@.macy;"That's because //I// didn't let him throw random stuff on there,"@@ Macy says, taking all the credit. @@.jasper;"So what you're saying is $name had no free will,"@@ Jasper comments, laughing. @@.player;"I had free will,"@@ you argue. @@.macy;"You had supervised free will,"@@ Macy corrects. Jasper makes a thoughtful sound, as if he's evaluating a painting in the Louvre. @@.jasper;"Okay, now set it down on the floor."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask. @@.jasper;"Just do it,"@@ Jasper demands. @@.jasper;"I need to see how it looks sitting naturally."@@ You carefully place it on the ground by your feet. Macy squats down, staring at it suspiciously. Vincent leans forward too, hands on his knees, and Jasper just stands there smiling like this is the funniest thing he's done all week. @@.jasper;"Pick it up again,"@@ Jasper says. You sigh and lift it. @@.macy;"Put it on,"@@ Macy orders. You hesitate for half a second before slipping one strap over your shoulder. @@.jasper;"No,"@@ Jasper says immediately. @@.jasper;"Properly. Both straps. Wear it like you're a functional member of society, $name."@@ @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you mutter, but you do it anyway. You get the second strap on and adjust it, letting the backpack settle comfortably against your back. The new fabric feels weirdly nice. It's something that hasn't been dragged through the mud for the last four years of your life. Macy circles you like a shark. @@.jasper;"Oh my God, I just realized this is like a makeover montage,"@@ Jasper says, grinning. You turn your head. @@.player;"Do I look stupid?"@@ Vincent answers instantly, without even thinking. @@.vincent;"No."@@ It's so quick and sure that you pause for a second. It doesn't feel like he's saying it to be nice, it feels like he genuinely means it. @@.macy;"Alright, don't get soft on us, Vinny,"@@ Macy says, looking offended by his sincerity. @@.vincent;"I'm not being soft,"@@ Vincent counters. @@.vincent;"I'm being accurate."@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"Vincent's growing a spine in real time."@@ Vincent gives him a look. @@.vincent;"I've always had a spine."@@ @@.jasper;"Bahaha, no you haven't,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"But that was confident. I'm proud."@@ You roll your eyes, but it's hard not to smile. You take a few steps forward, the keychain swinging in a soft arc as the backpack shifts. @@.jasper;"Okay,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"Now do a turn."@@ You stop. @@.player;"A turn?"@@ @@.jasper;"Yes,"@@ Jasper insists. @@.jasper;"Show us the full fit."@@ Macy nods like this is completely reasonable. @@.macy;"Full rotation."@@ @@.vincent;"They're not gonna stop until you do it, you know,"@@ Vincent says, chuckling. You huff, then slowly turn in place like you're being judged on a runway. When you stop and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you can't ignore the fact that it actually looks good on you. Macy stands up and crosses her arms, not saying a word. Oh no. Jasper notices too. @@.jasper;"What? Why are you doing that?"@@ Macy's eyes narrow. @@.macy;"I'm thinking."@@ @@.jasper;"Uh-oh, you guys all know what that means,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.jasper;"She's about to ruin the moment."@@ @@.vincent;"Macy, please don't,"@@ Vincent begs. Macy points at the backpack, now looking personally betrayed by it. @@.macy;"I'm just saying..."@@ Jasper throws his hands up. @@.jasper;"Oh come on!"@@ Macy continues anyway. @@.macy;"I picked all of it, yes. But now that it's all combined... it doesn't look as good as I expected."@@ You blink. @@.player;"The hell?"@@ @@.macy;"I don't know, alright!"@@ Macy says, gesturing wildly. @@.macy;"It's like... it looked good in my head. But in reality it's just slightly off."@@ Jasper stares at her. @@.jasper;"You literally curated everything like he's a Sims character."@@ Macy snaps. @@.macy;"I did not."@@ @@.jasper;"You did,"@@ Jasper insists, laughing. @@.jasper;"You designed the backpack. You made him pick accessories. You made him do a full spin like he was a model."@@ @@.macy;"That is ''not'' what happened,"@@ Macy denies, cheeks going pink with sheer stubbornness. Vincent speaks up, and it's not timid at all. In fact, it's firm enough that Macy stops talking and focuses. @@.vincent;"Okay. Hold on."@@ Macy blinks. @@.macy;"Huh?"@@ @@.vincent;"$name is standing here wearing a backpack he actually likes,"@@ Vincent says, pointing at you. @@.vincent;"You're not allowed to ruin it because your internal Pinterest board didn't manifest perfectly."@@ @@.jasper;"Holy shit,"@@ Jasper says, impressed. Macy looks personally attacked. @@.macy;"Excuse you?"@@ Vincent keeps going, now clearly enjoying the fact that he can. @@.vincent;"No. Seriously. You've been doing the thing where you nitpick and complain no matter what."@@ Jasper wheezes. @@.jasper;"Vincent???"@@ You stare at Vincent. @@.player;"Who the hell are you?"@@ @@.vincent;"I'm someone who's tired of hearing her complain,"@@ Vincent says with a shrug. Macy puts a hand over her chest like she's been shot. @@.macy;"I'm just being honest!"@@ @@.vincent;"And you can be honest later,"@@ Vincent responds. @@.vincent;"Right now you're going to say one nice thing."@@ @@.macy;"WHAT?"@@ @@.vincent;"Say one nice thing about $name's backpack,"@@ Vincent says, completely calm and confident. Macy's eyes widen. @@.macy;"No."@@ @@.vincent;"Yes."@@ Jasper is so excited that he's vibrating just like Macy does. @@.jasper;"Oh my God, he's making her do it."@@ Macy looks around for backup like she expects the store itself to rescue her. @@.macy;"Why are you all turning on me?"@@ @@.vincent;"It's easy to criticize, Macy,"@@ Vincent says, not even flinching. @@.vincent;"Try being nice for once."@@ Macy's jaw drops. @@.macy;"I am nice!"@@ @@.jasper;"I wouldn't say so,"@@ Jasper murmurs. You add. @@.player;"Yeah, you're really not."@@ Macy glares at all three of you. @@.macy;"How are you talking about nice when you guys are literally bullying me?"@@ @@.vincent;"It's to facilitate character development,"@@ Vincent says, smiling faintly. @@.vincent;"So say one nice thing."@@ Macy looks at the backpack again. Her eyes flick over the straps, the keychain, the pins, the overall vibe. She squints, struggling as if compliments are physically painful. Jasper covers his mouth to hide his laughter. @@.jasper;"This is the hardest thing she's done all day."@@ @@.macy;"Okay, fine,"@@ Macy says, inhaling dramatically. @@.macy;"It... it makes you look slightly less like you're about to go file taxes."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Is that a compliment?"@@ Vincent, on the other hand, nods like that counts. @@.vincent;"Good. Keep going."@@ Macy groans. @@.macy;"Oh my God, you said one."@@ @@.jasper;"Vincent has become a coach,"@@ Jasper says, chuckling to himself. @@.jasper;"Telling her to keep going."@@ @@.vincent;"Say something normal,"@@ Vincent demands, not backing down. Macy's face scrunches up, but after another second she sighs and finally mutters, @@.macy;"It actually suits you. Like... it makes you look cooler than you usually do."@@ You pause, surprised by how genuine it sounds despite the way she fought it. @@.player;"Wow."@@ @@.macy;"Don't get used to it, alright?"@@ Macy whines. @@.jasper;"I can't believe she did it!"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.jasper;"That's, like, the first time I've ever heard her be nice after years of friendship."@@ Vincent smiles wider now, looking tremendously pleased. @@.vincent;"See? Was that so hard?"@@ Macy grumbles, @@.macy;"Yes."@@ You adjust the strap on your shoulders, feeling weirdly warm in your chest. It isn't even about the backpack anymore, although it is pretty nice. It's about standing there with them, surrounded by this ridiculous energy, in this group where you actually belong. Jasper nudges you. @@.jasper;"Okay, $name. Backpack secured and drip acquired. You're officially upgraded."@@ Macy scoffs. @@.macy;"He's still $name."@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah, but now he's $name with accessories,"@@ Vincent says, chuckling. You snort. @@.player;"How terrifying."@@ Macy points at you. @@.macy;"Just don't forget to actually wear it to school tomorrow. If you show up with the tan backpack again, I'll literally scream."@@ @@.jasper;"She's using 'literally' correctly here,"@@ Jasper warns. @@.jasper;"She ''will'' scream."@@ Vincent shakes his head, smiling like he still can't believe this is real. He's still getting used to laughing without worrying someone's about to make fun of him for it. You take a step forward, and the four of you start moving as a group again. Still laughing, still arguing, and still stupidly happy. <div class="backpack-container"><<backpack>></div> <<button "Mission Backpack: Complete" "Day 23 - 34">><</button>>

Macy stops dead in her tracks and starts vibrating. Like, actually vibrating on the balls of her feet, bouncing from side to side like she's trying to contain energy that absolutely does ''not'' want to stay contained. @@.vincent;"Why are you doing that?"@@ Vincent asks, squinting at her. Macy snaps her head toward him so fast you're surprised she doesn't get whiplash. Her eyes are bright, way too bright. @@.macy;"Because we just finished $name's backpack. And now that $name's backpack is done... it is Vincent's turn!"@@ Vincent exhales through his nose and tilts his head back. @@.vincent;"I can't say I like the tone you're using."@@ @@.macy;"It's time to get //you// a pin, Vinny Sinclair!"@@ Macy exclaims, eyes blazing with purpose. @@.jasper;"It //is// your turn now,"@@ Jasper says, grinning. @@.jasper;"You promised to get one."@@ @@.vincent;"I was really hoping we'd all just... move on,"@@ Vincent says, sounding resigned to his fate. @@.macy;"Move on?"@@ Macy says, gasping in great offense. @@.macy;"Vinny, I've been preparing for this the entire time."@@ @@.vincent;"That's even worse,"@@ Vincent says. Macy doesn't care. She's already pacing again, hands waving as she talks to herself. @@.macy;"Okay, okay. So. We need something that fits your vibe. Something artsy, but not pretentious. Something smart, but not nerdy. Something subtle, but not boring."@@ @@.jasper;"You're describing an impossible object,"@@ Jasper mutters. @@.macy;"And it needs to work with your bag,"@@ Macy continues. @@.macy;"It has to say something important. Let me think... Hmmm.."@@ @@.vincent;"I'll just pick my own pin,"@@ Vincent says, clearly having decided he's done letting this happen. Macy freezes. @@.macy;"...What?"@@ Vincent looks at her calmly. @@.vincent;"I said I'll pick my own."@@ @@.macy;"And why would you do that?"@@ Macy asks. Vincent shrugs, but there's confidence in it now. @@.vincent;"You complain no matter what, so I might as well get something I like."@@ Jasper loses his mind. He's laughing so hard he has to grab the nearest shelf to steady himself. @@.jasper;"OH MY GOD."@@ Macy sputters. @@.macy;"I would ''not''!"@@ @@.vincent;"You do,"@@ Vincent says gently. @@.vincent;"You literally just complained about $name's backpack even though you picked literally everything on it."@@ @@.macy;"That was different,"@@ Macy insists. @@.vincent;"Was it though?"@@ Vincent asks with a knowing smile. @@.jasper;"Man, I'm sorry, Macy, but he got you there,"@@ Jasper says, clapping his hands together in delight. @@.jasper;"That was clean."@@ Macy whirls on Jasper. @@.macy;"You're supposed to be on my side!"@@ @@.jasper;"I'm on the side of truth,"@@ Jasper says solemnly. @@.jasper;"And right now, Vincent is telling the truth."@@ @@.macy;"Fine!"@@ Macy says, turning back to Vincent with a pout. @@.macy;"Whatever. Do what you want. I'll just be over here, excluded."@@ @@.vincent;"You're not excluded,"@@ Vincent corrects, chuckling. @@.vincent;"You can still give options. I just want something I actually like."@@ Jasper nods. @@.jasper;"That's growth right there."@@ Macy mutters, @@.macy;"I hate growth. Bring back the bullyable Vinny."@@ Vincent turns away from her before she can spiral again and starts browsing nearby pins at his own pace. He's not hovering awkwardly or second-guessing every move like he would've done a few hours ago. He's comfortable in a way you never really expected from him. @@.jasper;"Look at him,"@@ Jasper whispers to you. @@.jasper;"Standing up for himself. I'm feeling emotional."@@ Vincent somehow overhears and shoots him a look. @@.vincent;"I've always stood up for myself."@@ @@.jasper;"Eh, I wouldn't say that,"@@ Jasper says jokingly. Vincent rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. @@.vincent;"I'm actually going to start looking now."@@ Macy makes a dramatic show of zipping her lips. @@.macy;"I'm being so quiet and respectful right now."@@ @@.jasper;"You've never been quiet in your life,"@@ Jasper murmurs, snorting. Vincent drifts from section to section, hands clasped behind his back like he's in a museum instead of the pin section of a random store in a mall. You follow him without really thinking about it. @@.player;"So, what's the criteria?"@@ you ask casually. @@.player;"Like what would make a pin 'Vincent-approved?'"@@ He glances back at you, surprised you asked, then thinks about it seriously. @@.vincent;"Uh. I don't //know//, actually. Something that feels like me, I suppose. Not something I think I should like. Just... something I do."@@ @@.jasper;"I respect that mindset,"@@ Jasper says, nodding. Vincent laughs and stops at a display, scanning it carefully. He reaches out and takes a small pin shaped like a marble bust, turning it between his fingers. @@.vincent;"Oh my,"@@ he murmurs, eyes lighting up a little. @@.vincent;"This one's nice."@@ @@.macy;"Oh my God, of course you like the statue,"@@ Macy complains. @@.vincent;"It's clean, simple, and historic,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"How could I //not// like it?"@@ Jasper tilts his head. @@.jasper;"It does scream 'I took AP World and liked it.'"@@ Vincent winces. @@.vincent;"That was rude. True, sure, but rude."@@ @@.player;"It does feel very Vincent,"@@ you say, looking at it. @@.vincent;"That's the appeal,"@@ Vincent says, nodding. @@.vincent;"The funny thing is a lot of these marble statues were actually colored. The paint just faded over time, only leaving the white marble."@@ Macy gasps. @@.macy;"How poetic!"@@ Vincent blushes. @@.vincent;"I didn't mean it like that."@@ The next section catches his attention almost instantly. He stops in front of a small cluster of literary-themed pins and reaches for a pin that resembles an open book. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says softly. @@.vincent;"I like this one."@@ Jasper grins. @@.jasper;"You're predictable."@@ Vincent shrugs. @@.vincent;"I know. I'm fine with that."@@ @@.macy;"Is that supposed to mean you read?"@@ Macy asks, squinting at the pin. @@.vincent;"Yes,"@@ Vincent says patiently. @@.vincent;"That's... usually what you do with books."@@ @@.player;"This one's super cozy looking,"@@ you observe. Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"Exactly. There's nothing better than curling up with a nice book in a cozy corner. This pin reminds me of those times."@@ @@.macy;"Nerd,"@@ Macy whispers. Vincent continues, but suddenly stops short when something catches his eye. @@.vincent;"...Oh."@@ You look where he's looking and see a simple pin with square glasses. @@.vincent;"That's... unfortunately accurate,"@@ Vincent says, picking it up and staring at it. @@.macy;"Those are literally your glasses,"@@ Macy comments. Vincent adjusts his own without thinking. @@.vincent;"Yeah. I know."@@ @@.jasper;"Those are iconic Vinny pieces,"@@ Jasper says, smirking. Vincent shakes his head. @@.vincent;"I don't know how I feel about being known as the 'guy with glasses.'"@@ @@.player;"You already are,"@@ you say, breaking the news to him gently. @@.player;"Not that that's a bad thing."@@ Vincent clears his throat then gathers the three pins together in his hands. @@.vincent;"Okay, so, these are my finalists."@@ He turns to you fully, holding them out. @@.vincent;"I trust your judgment, $name."@@ Jasper gasps. @@.jasper;"Wow. That's a huge decision."@@ @@.macy;"How come I'm not involved?"@@ Macy complains, narrowing her eyes. Vincent smiles. @@.vincent;"You'll live, Mousey."@@ @@.macy;"That is ''not'' my name,"@@ she grumbles. He looks back at you with an earnest expression. @@.vincent;"So. Which one?"@@ <<button "The marble bust" "Day 23 - 35">>\<<set $d23vincentpin to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincentpin" "The marble bust" "story">><</button>> <<button "The open book" "Day 23 - 35">>\<<set $d23vincentpin to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincentpin" "The open book" "story">><</button>> <<button "The glasses" "Day 23 - 35">>\<<set $d23vincentpin to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincentpin" "The glasses" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d23vincentpin is 0>>\ You look at the three pins in Vincent's palm, and you don't have to think that hard about it. There's one that just fits him, one that feels very Vincent. @@.player;"I think you should get the marble bust,"@@ you say, nodding toward it. @@.player;"It's clean, it's classic, and it feels like you."@@ Vincent looks at the bust pin and the corners of his mouth lift in a pleased smile. It's as if you just handed him permission to like something without overthinking it. @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Yeah. I think you're right."@@ @@.macy;"Why'd you pick the ugly statue?!"@@ Macy complains. Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"Macy, it's literally the most Vincent pin in the universe."@@ @@.macy;"I'm not saying it doesn't fit him,"@@ Macy protests. @@.macy;"I'm just saying it's a boring choice."@@ @@.vincent;"I mean, but I like it,"@@ Vincent says, tone gentle. @@.vincent;"It makes me happy. I don't know why that's a crime."@@ @@.macy;"Ugh, I mean, it's not a //crime//,"@@ Macy says quickly. @@.macy;"It's just... you're going to become one of those people who goes to museums and talks about the texture of the marble or something."@@ @@.jasper;"I wouldn't be surprised if he's already done that,"@@ Jasper comments, grinning. @@.vincent;"Okay, first of all, marble does have texture. I've touched it before, and it's cool to the touch and waxy. Second of all, I'd never talk about something like that out loud in public."@@ Macy squints. @@.macy;"You're talking about the texture of marble out loud right now. In public."@@ Vincent pauses, realizes she's right, then lets out a small laugh. @@.vincent;"Okay, fine. But it's marble, you can't expect me to not talk about marble."@@ @@.player;"I think it'd fit well on your backpack too,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It kind of looks intentional, too. Like you liked it and you chose it."@@ Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"I like that. I like things that feel intentional. Like, when people see it, it won't look like I just grabbed something random. It feels like a choice that I, the art and history nerd, made."@@ @@.jasper;"Look at you, Vinny,"@@ Jasper says, raising his eyebrows. @@.jasper;"A man with taste."@@ @@.vincent;"I've always had taste,"@@ Vincent says, chuckling. @@.macy;"I mean, you do, but I think you could've picked something with more... energy,"@@ Macy says, losing the battle against her complaining instincts. @@.jasper;"It does have energy,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"It's just that it's museum gift shop energy."@@ @@.macy;"That's exactly my point,"@@ Macy says, horrified. @@.vincent;"What's wrong with museum gift shops?"@@ Vincent asks. @@.vincent;"I actually quite like them. They're calm, they're safe, and they have a bunch of cool souvenirs to remember the place by."@@ @@.player;"That's really nice,"@@ you say, grinning. Many, on the other hand, sighs loudly. @@.macy;"Fineee, you're allowed to be a calm little nerd."@@ @@.vincent;"Thank you,"@@ Vincent says gently. He turns the pin over, checks it one more time, then looks up at you. @@.vincent;"I'll get it. Thanks for helping. I know I probably look like I'm overthinking it."@@ @@.jasper;"You are,"@@ Jasper says. @@.vincent;"I didn't ask you,"@@ Vincent shoots back. Jasper lets out a hearty laugh. @@.jasper;"See? He's learning to clap back."@@ @@.macy;"Don't teach him that!"@@ Macy complains, arms folded. Vincent holds the marble bust pin close again and you can tell he's happy. <<elseif $d23vincentpin is 1>>\ You look down at the three pins in Vincent's hand, and something about the open book just feels right. It's warm, gentle, and quietly him. @@.player;"I think you should get the book,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It shows that you love learning."@@ Vincent's face softens, like those words hit closer than you meant them to. He looks down at the book pin again, and this little smile spreads slowly across his face. @@.vincent;"That's... really sweet,"@@ he says before clearing his throat, trying to act normal about it. @@.vincent;"I mean, yeah. I do like it."@@ @@.macy;"Ew,"@@ Macy says, making a noise of disgust. Jasper bursts out laughing. @@.jasper;"Macy, why is everything 'ew' to you?"@@ @@.macy;"'Cause it's sappy!"@@ Macy says, pointing at the open book like it personally offended her. @@.macy;"He's going to put that on his backpack and suddenly he'll look like he's about to hand out free tutoring."@@ @@.vincent;"It's literally just a book,"@@ Vincent says, confused. Macy squints. @@.macy;"It's literally so much more than that."@@ @@.player;"I think Macy's just jealous because she hasn't read anything other than boys' love in years,"@@ you say. @@.jasper;"I don't think I've seen Macy read anything other than fanfiction and yaoi in her free time,"@@ Jasper says, nodding. @@.macy;"That's because those are the only things worth reading,"@@ Macy says, nodding solemnly. Jasper ignores Macy and instead turns toward Vincent. @@.jasper;"If you get that pin, I'm calling you professor, by the way."@@ @@.vincent;"No,"@@ Vincent says, eyes widening. Macy brightens. @@.macy;"Yes! Professor Vincent Sinclair. I'd attend a lecture."@@ Vincent groans softly, but he's smiling. @@.vincent;"Please don't."@@ @@.player;"He'll start grading our backpacks,"@@ you add. @@.vincent;"I'm not grading anyone, alright?"@@ Vincent says, chuckling. @@.vincent;"And even if I did, I'd give everyone an A+ as long as they liked it. I'm not Macy."@@ @@.macy;"What does that mean?"@@ Macy says, gasping. @@.vincent;"You'd give everyone's backpack an F unless it had two boys kissing,"@@ Vincent says. Macy stares at him, betrayed. @@.macy;"I can't believe you know me that well."@@ Jasper wheezes. @@.jasper;"Vincent's a quick learner and Macy's a simple person."@@ @@.macy;"I still think it's boring, by the way,"@@ Macy complains. Vincent nods, gentle as always. @@.vincent;"That's okay. I like boring."@@ @@.macy;"I don't understand you,"@@ Macy says, genuinely befuddled. @@.macy;"I will admit it's not hideous, though."@@ Vincent glances back at her. @@.vincent;"From you that's basically a compliment."@@ Macy scowls. @@.macy;"It's not."@@ @@.jasper;"It absolutely is,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. <<elseif $d23vincentpin is 2>>\ You look at the three pins in Vincent's hand, and the second you see the glasses that look like they were made to call him out personally, you can't help it. @@.player;"Get the glasses,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"It's literally the same as yours. Not to mention it's funny, simple, and kinda cute."@@ Vincent stares at it for a second before making a small, embarrassed noise. @@.vincent;"Isn't it a little too accurate?"@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"It does look suspiciously similar to yours."@@ Macy points at the pin as if it's cursed. @@.macy;"That's not a pin, that's a label. You're going to wear it and people will just see you as the nerdy guy with glasses."@@ @@.vincent;"That's already how people see me,"@@ Vincent says, blinking. @@.vincent;"My reputation is pretty set."@@ Vincent looks down at the glasses pin again and lifts it closer to his face, comparing it to his own. He adjusts his glasses subconsciously, then catches himself. @@.vincent;"Okay, that is kinda hilarious,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"I actually do need new glasses, though.'@@ Macy pounces instantly. @@.macy;"YOU DO. The ones you have right now are ''so'' ugly. I can't deal with them anymore."@@ Vincent looks at her in mild disbelief. @@.vincent;"I meant that I needed new ones because the nose pads on my current ones fell off."@@ @@.macy;"Just another reason to get a better pair,"@@ Macy says, waving a hand. @@.jasper;"Don't worry Vinny, Macy just loves insulting people,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"I do kind of agree you need new ones though."@@ Vincent chuckles, even though he looks slightly embarrassed. @@.vincent;"These have been through a lot. Four years, many drops, and I've even sat on them a few times. I don't think they've forgiven me for everything I've done."@@ @@.player;"That's even more reason to get the pin, if you ask me,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's like... honoring them if you decide to get new ones. For getting you through high school, including a myriad of APs."@@ @@.macy;"Who honors //glasses//?"@@ Macy asks, making a strangled noise. Vincent looks at you again, still shy but clearly more confident than before in the way he's holding himself. @@.vincent;"If I get this, I'm worried you guys will never let me live it down. For getting a pin of my boxy nerd glasses."@@ @@.jasper;"You're absolutely right,"@@ Jasper says. @@.player;"It'd be in a loving way, though,"@@ you add. He slides the other two pins away and keeps the glasses pin in his hand. The decision has been made. @@.vincent;"I'm getting it,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Even if it is embarrassing."@@ @@.jasper;"But that's why it's great,"@@ Jasper says. Macy trails behind, still complaining because she physically cannot help herself. @@.macy;"I just think you could've picked something cooler."@@ @@.vincent;"But I like this,"@@ Vincent says, smiling gently. @@.vincent;"That's all that matters."@@ @@.macy;"Ugh,"@@ Macy says, clearly thrown off by how calm and sure he sounds. Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"She has no rebuttal. You managed to shut Macy up."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 36">><</button>>

You step out of the shop and back into the main mall corridor. The volume of the world rushes back in all at once. People are chatting while walking in clusters, someone's kid is whining, and there's the constant hum of pop music. For a second, the four of you just kinda stand there. Everyone's happy that you managed to complete the "backpack makeover" quest. Macy, surprisingly, isn't talking about boys' love or complaining. She just looks at you, then at Vincent, then at both of your bags. Then, she nods once, with this weirdly sincere expression on her face. @@.macy;"...Okay,"@@ she says, voice soft for once. @@.macy;"I'm proud."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You're... proud?"@@ @@.macy;"Don't get emotional, alright?"@@ Macy says, warning you to not make it weird. @@.macy;"I'm not saying it like that. I'm just saying, you both upgraded. You both look less like NPCs now."@@ @@.vincent;"Thank you, I think,"@@ Vincent says, frowning. @@.jasper;"Look, you've gotta remember this is Macy,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.jasper;"From her, this is basically a heartfelt speech."@@ Macy gives Jasper a look, but she doesn't deny it. She glances down at her phone, but then her face suddenly changes. Her eyes widen and she starts vibrating. @@.macy;"Oh my God,"@@ she breathes. @@.macy;"Wait. It's almost time."@@ Vincent tilts his head. @@.vincent;"Time for what?"@@ Macy looks up at him like the answer is so obvious that it's insulting he even asked. @@.macy;"My manga update."@@ @@.jasper;"Here we go,"@@ Jasper says, already defeated. Macy is suddenly frantic, clutching her phone like it's her lifeline. @@.macy;"It drops soon. I have to go. I have to be home the second it updates."@@ @@.vincent;"Why do you have to be home for that?"@@ Vincent asks, genuinely confused in this sweet, earnest way. @@.vincent;"Can't you read it on your phone?"@@ Macy stares at him. @@.macy;"Vinny."@@ @@.vincent;"What?"@@ Jasper pinches the bridge of his nose. @@.jasper;"Don't ask questions you aren't ready to hear the answers to."@@ Macy steps in closer, eyes intense and voice dropping. @@.macy;"I cannot experience a vampire x servant yaoi masterpiece on a 6.7 inch phone screen."@@ @@.vincent;"Masterpiece is a strong word to use,"@@ Vincent says, eyebrows climbing. @@.player;"It's a masterpiece for Macy if it features two boys kissing,"@@ you murmur. @@.macy;"It actually is, I swear,"@@ Macy insists, and her hands start moving as she talks, like her body cannot contain her devotion. @@.macy;"The line art. The shading. The rendering. The PANELING. The way the vampire's cape folds when he turns. The tiny details in the servant's expression when he's trying not to–"@@ @@.jasper;"Macy,"@@ Jasper interrupts, although at this point it's like trying to stop a flood with a paper towel. Macy snaps back to reality with a gasp. @@.macy;"Right. Anyway. I have to be home."@@ Vincent's confusion only deepens. @@.vincent;"Why though? Do you have some kind of special setup?"@@ @@.macy;"I do, actually,"@@ Macy says, nodding. @@.macy;"My 32-inch 4k monitor."@@ Silence. You stare at her. Vincent stares at her. Jasper stares at the ceiling like he's asking for strength. @@.vincent;"You have a 32-inch... 4k monitor... for reading manga,"@@ Vincent says carefully. Macy looks offended. @@.macy;"Why are you saying it like that?"@@ Vincent tries to recover, still polite. @@.vincent;"I'm not judging. I just didn't really know that was a thing people did."@@ @@.macy;"Well, it's a thing //I// do,"@@ Macy says, as if that answers everything. @@.macy;"Because I need to see all the details. It's called appreciating art."@@ Jasper mutters, @@.jasper;"It's called being insane."@@ Macy points at him. @@.macy;"More like having refined taste!"@@ Then she steps back, already bouncing on her toes again, smiling wide. A real smile, to show she actually had fun today. @@.macy;"Anyway, thanks for today,"@@ she says quickly. @@.macy;"It was tons of fun. You two are... not totally lame. Way better than our last table."@@ Vincent smiles softly. @@.vincent;"I'm glad you had fun."@@ Macy nods like she's not going to admit that matters to her. Then she turns and starts jogging away, voice lifting as she goes. @@.macy;"Okay bye! If anyone talks trash I will actually become a monster and rip you apart! This is the best yaoi ever! I'm serious! Byeeee!"@@ Her voice gets quieter and quieter as she disappears into the flow of the mall, moving like the fate of the world depends on her getting home in time to witness gay drama in ultra-high definition. You watch her go for a second, then glance at Jasper, half expecting him to tell you she was exaggerating. @@.player;"...Is that true?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"The monitor thing."@@ @@.jasper;"It's true,"@@ Jasper says, voice filled with the exhausted certainty of someone who has lived through it. @@.player;"So you've seen it,"@@ you say. @@.jasper;"In person, yes,"@@ Jasper confirms, and the way he says it makes it sound like a traumatic flashback. @@.jasper;"Like, the first time she said that, I thought she was lying to end the hangout early. I thought she was making it up because she got bored and didn't want to be rude."@@ @@.vincent;"And she wasn't?"@@ Vincent asks, oddly fascinated. Jasper shakes his head. @@.jasper;"Nope. She does it every Tuesday."@@ You stare after Macy's disappearing pink hair, trying to process the concept of a weekly ritual involving 4k boys' love. @@.player;"That's commitment right there."@@ @@.jasper;"That's obsession,"@@ Jasper corrects, then sighs and looks down the corridor like he's calculating the odds of disaster. Spoiler, it's 100%. @@.jasper;"I should probably chase her."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Why?"@@ Jasper gestures vaguely in the direction she ran. @@.jasper;"Because if I don't, she's going to get distracted and end up fighting squirrels or something."@@ @@.player;"...Fighting squirrels."@@ Jasper nods like that's not even close to the weirdest thing he's ever said. @@.jasper;"Yes. That has actually happened before."@@ @@.vincent;"What do you mean it's happened before?"@@ Vincent asks, staring. Jasper starts walking, lumbering in the direction Macy went. @@.jasper;"I mean a squirrel stole some snacks out of her bag and she took it personally. She tried to square up with it. I had to physically restrain her. It was a whole ordeal."@@ @@.player;"So Macy fought a squirrel,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.jasper;"She tried,"@@ Jasper calls back over his shoulder. @@.jasper;"She lost, but she tried."@@ He waves before going on the run, like he's chasing a force of nature rather than a five-foot ball of yaoi-fueled chaos. And then it's just you and Vincent. The space feels different without the other two filling it with noise. Not awkward, but quieter. Like the air finally has room to breathe. Especially with Macy gone. Vincent adjusts the strap of his bag with one hand, then shifts his weight, and you can see the little nervous energy creep back even though he's smiling. He looks like he wants to say something but is trying to pick the right way to put it. Finally, he clears his throat. @@.vincent;"So, um, $name,"@@ he says, voice careful. His eyes flick up to meet yours before flicking away again because apparently his brain hasn't figured out how to handle eye contact without buffering. @@.vincent;"Um. Do you want to do a little more? Like... together, I mean. Before we end the day."@@ It's such a small question, but the way he asks it makes it feel like it matters. He doesn't want to lose this moment quite yet. He doesn't want to lose //you// quite yet. @@.player;"I'm up for that,"@@ you say, nodding. Vincent's face brightens instantly. He smiles shyly, like he's trying not to look too happy about it and failing anyway. @@.vincent;"Okay,"@@ he says, quieter. @@.vincent;"Cool. Then... yeah. Let's."@@ And the two of you start walking as the day isn't over quite yet. <<button "More Vincent" "Day 23 - 37">><</button>>

You end up aimlessly walking around the mall. Not really rushing toward anything specific, just drifting past storefronts and kiosks and displays that are trying way too hard to convince you that you need a scented candle. The mall feels different with just the two of you. Quieter. You can actually hear yourselves think now. You don't have Macy ricocheting off walls or Jasper making commentary like David Attenborough. It's just you and Vincent, walking side by side, occasionally bumping shoulders when the crowd squeezes in. Vincent keeps glancing around like he's trying to be casual about it, but you can tell he's still getting used to this. Just hanging out with a friend. He's talking more than he did earlier, too. In this lighter, more normal way. You're halfway past a store selling phone cases when you notice Vincent slow down. His eyes are locked on a storefront with bright lighting and huge posters of models wearing glasses. Vincent stares for a second too long, then clears his throat like he's embarrassed he got caught looking. @@.vincent;"...I should probably come back here later,"@@ he mutters. You blink. @@.player;"Come back? For what?"@@ Vincent reaches up and nudges his glasses up the bridge of his nose. @@.vincent;"They've been rather uncomfortable lately. They keep slipping."@@ As if to prove his point, the frames slide down a little and he immediately pushes them up again. You look at him for a second, then look at the store for a second, then start walking directly toward it. Vincent makes a small startled sound behind you. @@.vincent;"Wait! $name!"@@ You don't stop, instead opting to angle straight toward the entrance. @@.player;"Come on."@@ Vincent hurries after you, voice slightly panicked. @@.vincent;"I meant later. Like, later later. Not right now."@@ @@.player;"Why not right now?"@@ you ask, glancing back over your shoulder while still walking. @@.vincent;"Well, because!"@@ Vincent says, flustered. @@.vincent;"I don't want to make you do errands. I'm the one who asked if you wanted to keep hanging out. It feels weird if the hangout turns into me dragging you to do boring stuff."@@ You slow down just enough that he can catch up beside you, and you lower your voice a little so it feels like you're talking just to him instead of the entire damn mall. @@.player;"It's fine,"@@ you say firmly. @@.player;"It's not good for you to have bad glasses. You're not going to be able to see."@@ @@.vincent;"I //can// see,"@@ Vincent insists. @@.player;"Barely,"@@ you say immediately. Vincent makes a small, offended noise. @@.vincent;"That's not true!"@@ @@.player;"Then why are you constantly pushing them up."@@ Vincent looks away in embarrassment, and his fingers hover near the frame like he wants to adjust them again but he's trying not to prove your point. @@.vincent;"It has been rather uncomfortable lately,"@@ he admits. @@.vincent;"Like, if I look down too fast, they slip. And my ears get sore sometimes."@@ You nod, satisfied, and step through the entrance. Inside, there are rows and rows of frames laid out like jewelry. Vincent instantly goes quiet, focusing. His eyes sweep over the displays with real interest. @@.player;"Okay, pick something that doesn't try to escape your face,"@@ you say lightly. Vincent lets out a tiny laugh. @@.vincent;"I'm not sure the glasses are the problem. I think it might just be my face."@@ @@.player;"Vinny."@@ He immediately backtracks, waving a hand. @@.vincent;"I'm joking, I'm joking. Mostly."@@ You glare at him so he doesn't pull that stunt again, and Vincent smiles sheepishly, like he knows you caught him being mean to himself for no reason. He drifts toward a display with rectangular frames that look very academic. He picks up a pair, then another, holding them up near his face. @@.vincent;"I always get the same kind,"@@ he says. @@.player;"The rectangular ones?"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"Yeah, the boxy rectangles,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"I've always had those kind of frames."@@ @@.player;"I mean, they //do// suit you,"@@ you say. Vincent's mouth twitches. @@.vincent;"Yeah. They're very safe."@@ He puts them back and reaches for another pair, this time with a slightly rounder shape. They're softer around the edges and give off a softer vibe too. He holds them up, studying them like they're a life decision. @@.vincent;"I don't know if I should keep doing what I always do,"@@ he says quietly. @@.vincent;"Or if I should try something different."@@ You watch him, and it's kind of endearing how seriously he's taking this. Like he genuinely wants to make the "right" decision. @@.vincent;"Should I go for the boxy frames I've always had or a rounder pair?"@@ he asks. He pauses, then adds, almost like he's embarrassed to want your opinion this much. @@.vincent;"What do you think, $name?"@@ <<button "I think the round frames are better" "Day 23 - 38">>\<<set $vincentroundglasses to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincentroundglasses" "I think the round frames are better" "story">><</button>> <<button "I think the boxy frames are better" "Day 23 - 38">>\<<set $vincentroundglasses to false>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincentroundglasses" "I think the boxy frames are better" "story">><</button>>

<<if $vincentroundglasses is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D23RoundFrames">>\ @@.player;"Try the rounder ones,"@@ you say, pointing gently at the softer frames in his hand. @@.player;"I know it's different, but I think it would look really good on you."@@ Vincent pauses, needing a few extra seconds to process your words. His eyebrows lift slightly, and there's a flicker of surprise. Even though he asked the question, he didn't expect you to pick the scary option. @@.vincent;"...Really?"@@ he asks, voice quiet. @@.player;"Really,"@@ you echo. @@.player;"I think it'll fit you. Like it'll match your face better."@@ @@.vincent;"You could be right,"@@ Vincent says, laughing nervously. @@.player;"I think you'd be surprised,"@@ you respond. Vincent swallows, then nods like he's bracing himself for an experiment. He carefully takes his current glasses off and immediately looks a little lost, blinking as the world turns fuzzy. He squints toward the mirror, making a small sound of annoyance. @@.vincent;"I hate this part."@@ @@.player;"You look like you just took off your armor,"@@ you say, chuckling. Vincent can't help but to laugh. @@.vincent;"Well, it certainly feels like it. It's like... I'm exposed."@@ He unfolds the rounder frames carefully, holds them for a second as if he's debating whether he even deserves to try something new, then slides them on. But hell, the change is immediate. The rounder shape softens his whole face in this strange way that just kind of works. It makes him look gentler, but also more put-together. The glasses seem to be a part of him now, instead of something he hides behind. @@.player;"Oh my,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Vinny. That looks really good."@@ @@.vincent;"It does?"@@ Vincent squeaks, freezing. @@.player;"It really does,"@@ you insist. @@.player;"Like it fits you. A lot, actually."@@ His cheeks go pink, and he looks so flustered you think he might panic and rip them off immediately. But he takes a breath, steadies himself, and turns toward the mirror. He steps closer, leaning in slightly, then pulls back. He tilts his head, studying the way the frames sit on his nose and how they make his eyes look a little brighter. @@.vincent;"...Wait,"@@ he murmurs, like he's genuinely surprised. @@.vincent;"That's actually..."@@ He smiles. @@.vincent;"That fits ''really'' well,"@@ he says, almost in disbelief. He lifts a hand and touches the frame lightly. Just a gentle tap like he's confirming it's real, like the fact that he looks good right now is real. You grin. @@.player;"What'd I say?"@@ @@.vincent;"I mean, it's just, wow!"@@ Vincent says, shoulders relaxing as he continues looking at himself. @@.vincent;"I didn't expect that."@@ @@.player;"You still look like you, just upgraded,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.vincent;"That's kind of crazy,"@@ Vincent says, laughing softly. He hesitates, then admits, @@.vincent;"I've always gotten boxy frames. I've had them for, like, forever now. And I think it's because I'm scared of change."@@ He pauses for a second, looking at his new self. @@.vincent;"But,"@@ Vincent continues, voice a little brighter, @@.vincent;"I guess it //is// good to change once in a while. Especially if the change is... objectively better."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I would say this is objectively better,"@@ you say, nodding. Vincent's cheeks turn pink again, but he doesn't duck away from the compliment. @@.vincent;"Thank you, $name,"@@ he says, some real confidence in his voice now. @@.vincent;"I think I actually want these. I appreciate you for pushing me a little."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Anytime, Vinny."@@ Vincent smiles again, continuing to look at himself like he's still getting used to the idea that trying something new can feel good instead of terrifying. <<elseif $vincentroundglasses is false>>\ <<grantAchievement "D23BoxyFrames">>\ @@.player;"Go boxy,"@@ you say, nodding toward the rectangular frames. @@.player;"It's kind of a classic at this point. It's so familiar that it's part of your brand now."@@ Vincent lets out a small breath that sounds like relief. @@.vincent;"Alright,"@@ he murmurs. @@.vincent;"That's what I was leaning toward too."@@ He carefully slides his current glasses off his face. The moment it's gone, his expression changes in this subtle way. His eyes narrow a little as if the whole store suddenly got a blur filter slapped over it. He blinks a few times, holding his old frames with both hands to make sure they don't break. @@.vincent;"Wow,"@@ he says softly. @@.vincent;"Everything immediately becomes worse."@@ @@.player;"Congrats,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.player;"You're a mole. Molecent."@@ Vincent laughs, then reaches forward and picks up the rectangular pair. He holds them close to his face, squinting at the little tag, then decides to just go for it. He carefully unfolds the arms and slips them on. For a second, he just stands there, adjusting them. Pushing them up the bridge of his nose, testing the pressure behind his ears, tilting his head left and right to ensure they don't launch themselves off his face. They really do resemble his current pair. Slightly cleaner and slightly newer, yes, but still very Vincent. Vincent walks toward the mirror, shoulders slightly hunched out of habit. Then he catches himself and straightens a little. He leans in, then leans back, studying his reflection with a small smile. @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ he says, smile growing more certain. @@.vincent;"This is reliable."@@ @@.player;"It looks good,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's basically your glasses, but upgraded. Like a newer model of the same phone."@@ Vincent laughs quietly and touches the frame again. This time it's not the anxious motion he makes every time he has to push them up. It's more like he's acknowledging them and checking that they sit right. @@.vincent;"I think I just got used to this shape."@@ He pauses, gaze still on the mirror, and his voice softens. @@.vincent;"I ended up with this in elementary school,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"My eyes are really bad. Like, really bad. I remember the first time I got glasses, it felt like the world went from... blurry watercolor to HD."@@ @@.player;"That must've been kind of wild,"@@ you say, chuckling. Vincent nods, a little smile tugging at his mouth. @@.vincent;"It was. And I think my parents just picked the safest option because I was a kid and I kept losing them or trying to take them off. So they just chose a pair that was rectangular and sturdy. And, well, I guess I just never changed it."@@ @@.player;"Is it because you like it?"@@ you ask. Vincent hesitates, then admits, @@.vincent;"Because I'm kind of scared of change."@@ He says it plainly, like he's stating a fact about himself that he's only recently come to terms with. @@.vincent;"It's stupid,"@@ he adds before stopping himself and shaking his head. @@.vincent;"No, sorry. It's not stupid. It's just... me. Even if I //do// wish I would be more open to change sometimes."@@ @@.player;"It's not stupid,"@@ you reassure. @@.player;"It makes sense, if you ask me. Why mess with something if it works?"@@ Vincent smiles and lifts his chin a little as he looks back at the mirror. Maybe testing how it feels to just stand there confidently. @@.vincent;"I like this. I'm still me, but these glasses are a ''lot'' less uncomfortable."@@ @@.player;"Then that's the one."@@ @@.vincent;"Okay then!"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Guess I'll go with old reliable."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Glasses acquired!" "Day 23 - 39">><</button>>

By the time Vincent finishes his eye exam, you can tell he's tired. He's had to cover one eye, read tiny letters, squint at a screen, and get wind blasted into an eye. He blinks a few times afterward in order to reboot. He hands back the temporary frames the employee had him wear for the test, but he's carefully polite about it. It's like he believes the glasses might have feelings. You've been hanging out a few steps away near a display of cases, pretending you're not watching even though you totally are. The employee taps something on a tablet and then smiles. @@.boy;"Alright,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"We'll have the glasses ready for you in about thirty minutes, Mr. Sinclair."@@ Vincent straightens at the mention of his last name, like it's a formal title. @@.vincent;"Oh! Uh, okay. Thank you."@@ He turns and walks back toward you, slipping his old glasses back on in the meantime. He still has to see while the new ones are being prepared, after all. As he approaches, he looks a little more relaxed now, like the worst part is over. @@.player;"So?"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow at him as he gets in range. @@.player;"How are your eyes?"@@ Vincent lets out a small laugh. @@.vincent;"Oh, they're bad."@@ @@.player;"That's not a number,"@@ you respond. Vincent pauses before finally saying, @@.vincent;"20/100."@@ @@.player;"Wait, what?"@@ Vincent chuckles, because he clearly enjoys getting a reaction out of you. @@.vincent;"Yeah."@@ @@.player;"That's insane,"@@ you say. @@.player;"How do you even see anything?"@@ Vincent shrugs like he's discussing a minor inconvenience instead of the fact that without glasses he probably would have trouble identifying a person standing a few yards away. @@.vincent;"I can see. It's just... not great."@@ @@.player;"Vinny, that explains why you're always squinting at stuff,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"I know,"@@ Vincent says, still smiling. @@.vincent;"I'm just glad it didn't get worse, though."@@ You blink. @@.player;"It can get worse?"@@ Vincent nods, oddly chill about it all. @@.vincent;"Yeah. And I'd rather not be legally blind."@@ @@.player;"That's crazy,"@@ you murmur, shaking your head. Vincent lifts his shoulders in a small shrug. @@.vincent;"I've had bad vision forever. I just... don't really think about it much."@@ Then he glances at you. @@.vincent;"What about you? How are your eyes?"@@ @@.player;"20/20,"@@ you say, not even having to think. Vincent immediately makes a noise of disgust. @@.vincent;"Unfair,"@@ he declares, like you personally rigged the system. @@.vincent;"That's actually unfair."@@ You grin. @@.player;"Skill issue."@@ @@.vincent;"No, it's not a skill issue,"@@ Vincent says, looking offended. @@.vincent;"I do think it's unfair that the person who reads the most has the worst vision, though. Shouldn't I have the best vision? So I can read more? Life is a cruel mistress, I swear."@@ The two of you break into an easy laugh. Vincent shifts his weight, then glances back toward the counter where the employee is working, as if he's reminding himself that there's still some time to kill. Then he looks at you, expression playful. @@.vincent;"So,"@@ he says, @@.vincent;"do you want glasses too?"@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.player;"No. Why would I?"@@ @@.vincent;"I don't mean prescription,"@@ Vincent clarifies. @@.vincent;"Just the frames."@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.vincent;"Some people do that, you know. They get frames with clear lenses. No prescription. Just... style."@@ @@.player;"Are you calling me unfashionable?"@@ you ask, suspicious. @@.vincent;"No,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"I'm just saying it could look good. Like... glasses can really change your whole vibe in a good way. And it's not like you have to commit to it forever. You could just try for a day."@@ You glance around the store, then at the glasses, then back at him. @@.player;"Are you sure about this, Vinny?"@@ @@.vincent;"I just think it would suit you,"@@ he says quietly. @@.vincent;"Who knows, it might look good. So, do you want to try a pair? Just for fun?"@@ <<button "Try it on" "Day 23 - 40">>\<<set $d23glasses to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_glasses" "Try it on" "story">><</button>> <<button "No need for glasses today" "Day 23 - 40">>\<<set $d23glasses to false>>\<<trackChoice "D23_glasses" "No need for glasses today" "story">><</button>>

Art class is quieter than you expect. By the time you get there, it's already early afternoon. Your brain feels like it's gone through three separate days since your alarm first went off, and walking down the hall toward the art room feels weirdly dreamlike. The rest of the school isn't full of energy either, considering it's post-lunch. But alas, you have two more classes before the day ends. You step inside the art room and immediately catch the familiar smell of paint and paper. Sunlight spills in through the high windows, warm and lazy. A few students are already there, scattered around the room, unpacking supplies, zoning out, or chatting. And then you see Vincent. He's sitting in the corner of the room, near the whiteboard, hunched slightly over his sketchbook like he's trying to make himself smaller. His pencil is already in hand, even though class hasn't really started yet. His backpack is on the floor by his feet, unzipped, and he keeps glancing around the room like he's not entirely convinced he belongs here. You stop for a second. The hell is Vincent doing here? You're pretty sure he wasn't in this class the last time you were here. You walk over before you can overthink it. @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you say. Vincent jolts like he hadn't realize anyone else existed. @@.vincent;"O-oh,"@@ he says, looking up way too fast. His glasses slide down his nose a little, and he pushes them back up immediately. @@.vincent;"Hi, $name. Um. Hi."@@ You smile. @@.player;"Didn't know you were in art. Have you been hiding from me this whole time?"@@ He blinks, then laughs nervously. @@.vincent;"Yeah. Uh. I'm new. As of today, technically."@@ You drop your backpack next to him and sit down, turning slightly so you're facing him. @@.player;"That's a big change."@@ Vincent lets out a nervous laugh and nods, fingers tightening around his mechanical pencil like it might try to escape if he isn't careful. @@.vincent;"Yeah, big is... definitely one word for it."@@ He hesitates, then adds, a little quieter, @@.vincent;"Terrifying is another."@@ He takes a breath, clearly bracing himself, then starts talking in that way he does when he's anxious, but also kind of relieved to finally take the weight off his chest. @@.vincent;"I've been thinking about it for a while,"@@ he admits. @@.vincent;"Like, months. I just kept telling myself I'd do it later, or next semester, or not at all. Which is sort of my specialty."@@ He lets out a small self-aware laugh. @@.vincent;"But then it hit me that... I'm in my senior year now, and I haven't really been living high school. I've just been completing it."@@ You tilt your head slightly. @@.player;"Completing it?"@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ he says, warming up. @@.vincent;"As if it was a checklist or something. AP this, AP that, clubs that look good on applications, extracurriculars that I don't actually care about but that sound impressive if you say them out loud. I realize I haven't ever taken a single class simply because I //wanted// to."@@ He glances around the art room again, sunlight catching in his glasses. @@.vincent;"This felt like... the opposite of that."@@ There's a beat of silence before he adds, quickly, @@.vincent;"Which is why it took me forever to decide what to drop."@@ You lean back slightly. @@.player;"What were you deciding between?"@@ @@.vincent;"Okay, so,"@@ he says, sitting up straighter, @@.vincent;"I was choosing between AP Physics C, AP European History, and AP French."@@ He grimaces. @@.vincent;"I had 7 APs this year. The only reason why I didn't go for all eight was because I ''had'' to do PE. That sounds ridiculous now that I say it out loud. Seven."@@ @@.player;"That's a ton,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"Right?"@@ He laughs nervously. @@.vincent;"And I kept going back and forth. Like, AP Euro is genuinely one of my favorite classes. I actually //like// the content, even when it's hard. And French, well, I find the language fascinating. Not to mention you get these history tidbits sometimes, and you know how much I love history."@@ You nod, quietly encouraging. @@.vincent;"And Physics is just... physics,"@@ Vincent continues. @@.vincent;"I don't hate it, exactly. I just couldn't care less. I was only taking it because colleges like seeing it, and because everyone says you //should// if you're capable of it. Which is... a really bad reason to spend hours of your life being miserable."@@ @@.player;"That sounds exhausting,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"It //is//,"@@ he agrees immediately. @@.vincent;"Or at least it was. But I'm here now."@@ He fidgets with the edge of his sketchbook now, thumb at the corner. @@.vincent;"I actually talked to my counselor about it. Like, really talked. I didn't plan to, really. I went in there to ask a completely different question and then just sort of... confessed everything."@@ He laughs, embarrassed. @@.vincent;"She listened. Which shocked me."@@ @@.player;"And she moved you into Art?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ he says, eyes brightening a little. @@.vincent;"She asked me what I'd take if college applications didn't exist. And I said art before I could stop myself. So she made it happen."@@ There's a moment where he just sits there, absorbing that he actually did it. @@.vincent;"I feel kind of ridiculous,"@@ Vincent admits quietly. @@.vincent;"Like everyone else has this clear path, and I'm over here dropping one of the hardest classes in the school to draw and paint and... feel things. But also? I don't regret it. I just keep wondering if that makes me irresponsible."@@ The classroom hums softly around you. Vincent waits, shoulders slightly hunched, bracing for your reaction. <<button "That actually sounds really healthy" "Day 23 - 5">>\<<set $d23vincentcomfort to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincentcomfort" "That actually sounds really healthy" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'm glad you did, art class just got a lot more interesting with you in it" "Day 23 - 5">>\<<set $d23vincentcomfort to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincentcomfort" "I'm glad you did, art class just got a lot more interesting with you in it" "story">><</button>> <<button "I mean... AP Physics is important though" "Day 23 - 5">>\<<set $d23vincentcomfort to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincentcomfort" "I mean... AP Physics is important though" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d23glasses is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D23Glasses">>\ <<set $glasses to true>>\ You stare at the wall of frames for a second before letting out a quiet breath. @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'll try one just to see."@@ Vincent's face brightens immediately, like you just agreed to something way more important than glasses. He tries to play it cool, but he's not very good at it. @@.vincent;"Okay! That's cool. Just pick one that's comfortable."@@ You walk up to the display and scan the frames, pretending you have any idea what you're doing. In reality, you're just choosing based on vibes. Some are trendy, some look like they belong on a middle-aged accountant named Bill, and some are so thin you feel like you'd break them by accident. You grab a pair that look simple enough. Rounded, trendy, and clean. Vincent hovers behind you, hands tucked into his pockets, watching with intense focus like he's observing a scientific experiment. @@.player;"These look normal."@@ @@.vincent;"Those //are// normal,"@@ Vincent says, nodding. @@.vincent;"Good choice."@@ @@.player;"Why do you say that like you're grading me?"@@ you murmur. @@.vincent;"I'm not grading you,"@@ Vincent says quickly, then pauses and sheepishly adds, @@.vincent;"I just have strong opinions about glasses."@@ @@.player;"I can see that,"@@ you mutter. You slip the frames on, and it's immediately weird. Not uncomfortable, but definitely unfamiliar. The weight on your nose and the little pressure on your ears are new, strange sensations. You blink twice, then look at yourself in the mirror. And, shit, honestly? It doesn't look bad. It's not like you transform into a different person, it's not the $referto, but the glasses do change your vibe in this subtle way. You look a little more put-together, like you take notes in class and carry around cute stationery. @@.player;"Huh,"@@ you say, tilting your head and inspecting yourself in the mirror. @@.vincent;"I like that,"@@ Vincent says softly. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ he echoes, smiling warmly. @@.vincent;"It suits you. A lot, actually."@@ @@.player;"It makes me look way too studious,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.vincent;"Isn't that a good thing?"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"It makes you look smart."@@ @@.player;"Hmm, do I really want that though?"@@ @@.vincent;"You should!"@@ Vincent exclaims. @@.vincent;"But yeah, it fits your face well. And it's kind of cute."@@ The last part lands a little differently, as he immediately looks slightly embarrassed that he said it out loud. His ears go a little pink, and he clears his throat like he's trying to reset his brain. @@.player;"You're weirdly invested in this, you know,"@@ you mutter. Vincent's eyes flick down and then back up. @@.vincent;"I just... like glasses."@@ @@.player;"So I should get them?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"You should definitely get them,"@@ Vincent says. @@.player;"But I don't need them."@@ @@.vincent;"Oh, I know that,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"But just because you don't need them doesn't mean you can't have them."@@ @@.player;"But they cost money,"@@ you say, lifting your hand tapping the frame lightly. Vincent waves it off like that's a minor detail. @@.vincent;"Don't worry, I'll get them for you."@@ @@.player;"Excuse me?"@@ Vincent says it again, firmer, like he's decided and the decision is not up for debate. @@.vincent;"I'll buy it."@@ @@.player;"Vincent,"@@ you say, a little suspicious. @@.player;"It's fine. I really don't need these anyway."@@ Vincent shakes his head, but there's a surprising amount of confidence in it. @@.vincent;"Let me get this for you."@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"Why are you being so insistent?"@@ Vincent pauses, and you can see the moment where he realizes he has to explain himself. For a second, it looks like he might retreat into awkwardness. But he instead opts to take a breath and just say it. @@.vincent;"I like when people have glasses on,"@@ he admits. @@.vincent;"I think it makes people look smart."@@ You squint. @@.player;"So you're trying to make me look smart."@@ Vincent's cheek pinken further, and he adds, @@.vincent;"And also... it's attractive."@@ You laugh, because it's so honest and so Vincent that it catches you completely off guard. @@.player;"You know what, that's actually kind of adorable. Fine then. If you're going to be this weird about them I'll get them."@@ @@.vincent;"Yes!"@@ Vincent says, his expression brightening like you just made his whole day. @@.vincent;"Good, great decision, $name. They look really good."@@ @@.player;"But you're paying, alright?"@@ you say, pointing at him. @@.player;"You insisted."@@ @@.vincent;"Yes, I'll pay,"@@ Vincent says, nodding quickly. @@.player;"You're such a nerd."@@ Vincent smiles. @@.vincent;"I know."@@ <<elseif $d23glasses is false>>\ You shake your head before you can overthink it. @@.player;"Nah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm good. I don't think I need glasses."@@ Vincent pauses like he wants to argue, but he keeps it polite. @@.vincent;"Are you sure? It might not be bad to try."@@ You nod firmly. @@.player;"I'm sure. If I put them on, I'll get used to them, then I'll start thinking I look weird without them, and then suddenly I'm wearing fake glasses all the time for no reason."@@ @@.vincent;"Alright,"@@ Vincent says softly. @@.vincent;"That's fair."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 41">><</button>>

When the employee finally comes back out with Vincent's new glasses, Vincent takes them with both hands like they're sacred. He thanks the guy three times in a row, too polite and a little breathless, then slips them on carefully. For a second he just stands there, blinking. Not the strained blinking he was doing earlier, either. Just normal blinking as he lets his eyes settle. He shifts his gaze around the store as he looks up at the bright signs, down at the polished floor, over at the frames, and finally at the poster. His shoulders visibly loosen. Then, almost like he can't help himself, he gives his head a small shake. Not aggressively or anything, just a gentle little test. The glasses don't move. Vincent freezes and shakes his head again, a little more confidently this time. There's still nothing. No slipping, no need to push them back up, no annoying little adjustments. They just... stay. @@.vincent;"...Oh my God,"@@ he murmurs, mouth opening slightly. For a second he looks like he might actually get emotional about it. @@.player;"What's up?"@@ you say. Vincent touches the glasses a little like he's confirming it's real. @@.vincent;"They're not moving."@@ @@.player;"That's kind of the point,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.vincent;"No, $name, you don't understand,"@@ Vincent insists. @@.vincent;"They always, like ''always'', slide. It's been especially bad this past week, but honestly? I've been fighting my glasses my whole life. But right now it... doesn't feel like a fight. They're just resting comfortably on my nose and ears."@@ He shakes his head, playfully this time, and then breaks into this bright smile that makes his whole face look lighter. It's such a simple thing, glasses that fit aren't anything special, but the joy in him is so damn obvious it's hard not to feel happy too. @@.player;"Look at you, Vinny,"@@ you say, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. @@.player;"How functional."@@ @@.vincent;"It's actually ridiculous how happy I am,"@@ Vincent laughs, his cheeks a little pink. @@.player;"I don't think it's ridiculous,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's kind of a big deal, especially with how uncomfortable you've been."@@ Vincent's smile softens, and it seems he's grateful that you're taking him seriously instead of making it a joke. @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ he says, voice small but warm. @@.vincent;"Thanks."@@ The two of you head out of the glasses store together, stepping back into the main corridor. Vincent keeps doing these tiny tests without even realizing it. He tilts his head, shifts his gaze quickly, looks down and back up, like he's waiting for the old slipping problem to ambush him. But it never does. Every time it doesn't happen, his smile creeps back in like his face is struggling to contain how pleased he is about this. @@.player;"So,"@@ you say casually, walking alongside him, @@.player;"you can see now."@@ @@.vincent;"Hey!"@@ Vincent says, looking offended. @@.vincent;"I could see before."@@ @@.player;"Vinny."@@ He sighs, then admits, @@.vincent;"Okay, fine. I will admit that I can see better now."@@ You both keep walking aimlessly, letting the mall noise swirl around you. Then Vincent suddenly slows down and clears his throat. @@.player;"What is it?"@@ you say. Vincent looks straight ahead, then down, then straight ahead again, then left, then right, then ahead for the third time. It's like he's trying to line up the courage to ask a question without making it weird. The confidence he found earlier is still there, but he's also still very Vincent. @@.vincent;"Um,"@@ he begins. @@.vincent;"Do you... want to go to the toy store?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"The toy store?"@@ Vincent's ears go pink, but he doesn't back out. @@.vincent;"Yeah. There's one here. I know it sounds childish, but they have some new Leego sets and I kind of want to look."@@ @@.player;"Leego?"@@ @@.vincent;"Yeah, Leego,"@@ Vincent says, nodding quickly. @@.vincent;"The block sets where you make the cool scenes. You know."@@ You do. I mean, obviously you do. You were a kid once, and even if you didn't build giant castles like the commercials promised (because they were too expensive for your mom), you definitely stepped on those bricks at least once and said a lot of no-no words. @@.player;"Oh,"@@ you say, a little surprised. @@.player;"I mean, I liked Leego when I was a kid. What sets do you like?"@@ Vincent pauses, and there is a ''very'' obvious moment where his brain tries to choose between honesty and self-preservation. And self-preservation wins out. @@.vincent;"Well, it's like... an adult line,"@@ Vincent says, a little too casually. @@.player;"An adult line,"@@ you repeat, narrowing your eyes. Vincent nods, trying to keep his voice calm even though it's already cracking under the weight of the lie. @@.vincent;"Yeah. Like architecture, buildings, historical structures, all that jazz. Very... sophisticated."@@ You stare at him. Vincent keeps going, because once he starts lying, he apparently believes the solution is to add more lies on top until it becomes believable. @@.vincent;"One of my favorite sets is one with the Golden Gate Bridge,"@@ he continues, waving his hands a little. @@.vincent;"I'm a big fan of the Art Deco style. The architect of the Golden Gate Bridge, Irving Morrow, used that style because he wanted to make it into a landmark rather than just a purely functional engineering project. Isn't that cool? So adult."@@ @@.player;"Vincent."@@ He stops mid-gesture. @@.player;"Just tell the truth,"@@ you deadpan. @@.player;"That was the worst lie I've ever heard in my life. You sounded like you were reading off a brochure."@@ Vincent's face goes fully pink. He sighs in defeat like his soul is leaving his body. @@.vincent;"Okay,"@@ he admits quietly. @@.vincent;"Fine. It's Noodlejago."@@ @@.player;"It's Noodlejago?"@@ you ask. Vincent nods, as if saying it faster will make it less embarrassing. @@.vincent;"Yeah. The ninja one with the dragons and spinning and the golden weapons. I've liked it since I was a kid and... never grew out of it. I didn't want you to think it was lame."@@ @@.player;"That was the truth?"@@ you say, chuckling. Not in a teasing way or to be mean, but just because it's funny. @@.vincent;"Yeah, that's the truth,"@@ Vincent says, still a little nervous. @@.player;"Fine, I'll go with you,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But only because you were honest."@@ Vincent's expression brightens instantly, relief flooding into his smile. @@.vincent;"Really?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"And also because I want to see what kind of Noodlejago sets you like."@@ @@.vincent;"Alright, that's fair,"@@ Vincent says, letting out a little laugh. He looks ahead, pointing awkwardly down the corridor. @@.vincent;"It should be around there."@@ @@.player;"Lead the way, Noodlejago boy,"@@ you say, bumping his shoulder lightly. <<button "Noodlejago" "Day 23 - 42">><</button>>

The toy store has noise and energy. A ''lot'' of noise and a ''lot'' of energy. There's a constant swarm of excited kid voices layered over squeaky shoes and the occasional parent begging for their kid to not climb something. The energy is crazy too. Everything is bright, everything is colorful, and everything is trying to lure you into buying something shiny. Vincent hesitates at the entrance for a second, like he's bracing himself, but ends up walking in anyway. You follow him right away, amused already. He leads you straight toward the corner where all the Leego sets are, and you can tell you're getting close before you even see anything because the noise changes. Two kids are excitedly jumping around near a big display, pointing at boxes and talking over each other. @@.boy;"DID YOU WATCH THE NEW EPISODE?"@@ @@.boy;"YEAH, THE DRAGON'S DIFFERENT NOW!"@@ @@.boy;"MY MOM SAID I CAN ONLY GET THE SMALL ONE..."@@ @@.boy;"I HAVE THE BIG ONE AT HOME!"@@ @@.boy;"NO YOU DON'T, STOP LYING!"@@ Right above them is the Noodlejago display. Bright boxes are stacked neatly, each one featuring several dramatic ninjas. All of it is designed to make you feel like buying plastic bricks is a very important decision. Vincent slows in front of it. You can see the inner kid in him light up, even if he's trying to pretend he's just "casually looking." His eyes skim over all the set. He starts with the small ones, then the mid-sized ones, then the ridiculously massive ones. He leans in, reading the little descriptions on the back of the box, lips moving silently. You glance at the kids jumping up and down and then look back at Vincent, who is trying very hard to look like a normal functioning adult and not someone who is moments away from buying a Leego set. @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, nudging him with your shoulder. Vincent's still fully focused on the sets. @@.vincent;"What?"@@ You tilt your head toward the kids. @@.player;"Are these your friends?"@@ Vincent freezes, his face going pink. @@.vincent;"Shut up."@@ @@.player;"You can go say hi,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"Talk about the latest season and compare theories."@@ Vincent makes a mortified noise. @@.vincent;"$name."@@ He's trying to sound annoyed, but the fact that he's not retreating or shutting down means you're safe to tease. He's letting you be stupid instead of taking it as an attack, which is honestly kind of nice. @@.player;"I'm just saying you could blend right in,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"They're talking about how the dragon's different. Just say something and they'll accept you as one of their own."@@ Vincent snorts, then shakes his head. But the new glasses don't slip at all. His expression immediately brightens again. @@.vincent;"...Okay,"@@ he mutters. @@.vincent;"That's still so good."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Did you just compliment your own glasses?"@@ Vincent clears his throat, clearly embarrassed. @@.vincent;"Maybe."@@ Then he turns back to the sets. For a while, you just let him look. He takes his time, scanning each box with genuine interest. It's obvious that he's imagining how it would go together, where it would sit, how it would look when finished. Every once in a while, he leans closer to read something small, and he doesn't need to squint or adjust his glasses. He just reads, and that's nice to see. @@.boy;"THE BLUE NINJA LOOKS SO COOL HERE!"@@ one kid shouts. The other kid gasps in betrayal. @@.boy;"THE RED NINJA IS WAY COOLER!"@@ @@.player;"These are your people,"@@ you whisper to Vincent. Vincent whispers back, @@.vincent;"Shut up."@@ You can't help but laugh. @@.vincent;"You see this on the box?"@@ Vincent says, pointing at the age rating. @@.vincent;"It says 4 to 99. Last I checked, I'm between those ages. So I'm safe."@@ @@.player;"What happens when you turn older than 99?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"At that point, I'll have to give up Leego,"@@ Vincent says solemnly. @@.vincent;"Those are just the rules."@@ Vincent eventually picks up a box and holds it for a moment, weighing it in his hands like he's seriously considering purchasing it. He looks at the front, then the side, then the back, studying the pictures like they're evidence. You wait, because you can tell he's actually thinking. But after a minute of intense inspection, he sets it back on the shelf. @@.player;"You're not gonna get it?"@@ you ask. Vincent's shoulders lift and fall in a small sigh. He looks a little disappointed. @@.vincent;"I want to,"@@ he admits. @@.vincent;"But I probably shouldn't."@@ @@.player;"Why not?"@@ you ask, genuinely curious. Vincent tilts his head toward the price tag. @@.vincent;"Because Leego sets have gotten crazy expensive."@@ You glance over and immediately see what he means. Even the smaller sets are priced in the triple digits. The bigger ones are just straight-up absurd. You can practically hear some poor mom's wallet crying. @@.player;"Yeahhh,"@@ you say, shocked by the prices. @@.player;"That's fair."@@ Vincent laughs softly. @@.vincent;"I need a lot more money if I'm going to spend this much on plastic bricks."@@ @@.player;"How responsible of you,"@@ you say, chuckling. Vincent smiles, a little shy but clearly pleased with himself. @@.vincent;"Thank you."@@ He lingers for a few more seconds anyway, maybe to say goodbye to the sets, promising to come back in the future when he's rich, before finally stepping back from the display. @@.vincent;"Alright,"@@ he says, calmer now. @@.vincent;"I'm good."@@ @@.player;"So, do we have anything else to do at the mall today?"@@ you ask, tilting your head. Vincent's expression turns thoughtful for a second, like he's scrolling through a ton of options in his brain. Then he shakes his head. @@.vincent;"I don't really have anything,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"I think we've done a lot already."@@ @@.player;"We //did// spend a lot of time in this mall,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"Let's head out then."@@ @@.vincent;"Okay,"@@ Vincent says, nodding too. <<button "TIme to head home" "Day 23 - 43">><</button>>

You step outside, blink once, and immediately do a double take. It's ''dark'' and it's ''cold''. The parking lot lights are on, casting everything in a white glow, and the sky overhead is black. You can even make out some stars. @@.player;"...Why is it so dark?"@@ you ask, genuinely thrown off. @@.player;"Did we accidentally time travel?"@@ Vincent steps out beside you and pauses too. You notice the moonlight reflecting off his new glasses, which, by the way, sit perfectly on his nose. No slipping, no fussing, just relaxed. The fact that he's not pushing his frames up every ten seconds makes him seem calmer by default. @@.vincent;"It does feel sudden,"@@ he admits. He pauses, and you can see the gears in his brain turn as he locks onto an explanaton. @@.vincent;"Well, but it //is// autumn. So the sunset progressively gets earlier because of the tilt of the Earth's axis."@@ @@.player;"Of course."@@ Vincent keeps going, because now he's invested. @@.vincent;"So during summer, the hemisphere we're in is tilted toward the sun, which means the sun's path across the sky is longer. Longer days means more daylight. But as we move toward winter, we're tilting away, and the sun's path gets lower and shorter."@@ He gestures vaguely at the sky. @@.vincent;"So the sun rises later and sets earlier. Time isn't going faster, even if it does feel like it. It's really just the geometry of the planet."@@ @@.player;"How do you know everything about every subject?"@@ you ask, chuckling. Vincent laughs, a little embarrassed but pleased by the compliment. @@.vincent;"Sorry. I might read a little too much."@@ He looks at the sky again, maybe thinking about orbit and rotation and visualizing the Earth in his head. But then he suddenly looks back at you, tone shifting into something softer. Like he just remembered he's allowed to be a teenager. @@.vincent;"Well, but we also had a lot of fun,"@@ Vincent adds, voice quieter. @@.vincent;"And everyone knows time flies when you're having fun."@@ @@.player;"I think that might be the more likely explanation,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"It //was// a lot of fun though, wasn't it?"@@ @@.vincent;"It really was,"@@ he says, and he glances behind his shoulder like he's replaying everything in his head. @@.vincent;"I really like Macy and Jasper. They're chaotic."@@ @@.player;"That's an understatement,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'd lean toward crazy."@@ Vincent laughs. @@.vincent;"Macy is... she's like this small storm of energy. But it's weirdly entertaining. And Jasper is so calm about it! That really cracks me up. Like he's been dealing with her for so long that he just accepts the yaoi and complaining like it's nothing."@@ @@.player;"I think that's their dynamic,"@@ you say. Vincent's smile turns a little more mischievous. @@.vincent;"It was fun to shut Macy down,"@@ Vincent says, sounding oddly proud of himself. @@.player;"When you told her to compliment my backpack?"@@ you ask. Vincent's cheeks tint faintly pink again, but he doesn't backtrack. @@.vincent;"Exactly. It was funny when she couldn't and was struggling to come up with something."@@ @@.player;"That was a really good moment."@@ @@.vincent;"It was ''so'' satisfying after she complained all day,"@@ Vincent says, eyes bright. @@.vincent;"Not in a mean way, of course! She just needed it."@@ @@.player;"Don't worry, I agree that she needed it,"@@ you agree. @@.player;"And witnessing her suffering was funny."@@ Vincent snorts, then hesitates as he glances down at the ground. When he finally looks back up, his voice is a lot gentler. @@.vincent;"Thank you,"@@ he says. @@.player;"For what?"@@ @@.vincent;"For being here for me today,"@@ Vincent says, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. He takes a small breath, and you can tell he's choosing his next few words carefully because he wants to say it right. @@.vincent;"Let me tell you, $name, I would ''not'' have had the confidence to do that even a week ago."@@ You don't tease him this time. You just look at him and let him have the moment. Vincent continues, a little faster now, not stopping now that he's started. @@.vincent;"I was genuinely scared I made the wrong decision. Dropping AP Physics C and joining art. I kept thinking I might regret it. That I might fall behind. That I might mess up my future because I was foolish and wanted to do something fun."@@ He lets out a short laugh, like he's finding his own brain's intensity ridiculous. @@.vincent;"And I thought that if I went to art and everyone was already skilled and good friends while I was awkward and didn't know what I'm doing, then it would just confirm that I don't belong anywhere."@@ @@.vincent;"But after today?"@@ he says, eyes warm and earnest. @@.vincent;"After the first class and this hangout? I have no regrets whatsoever."@@ For a second he just stands there, and he looks so quietly happy that it's hard not to feel glad for him. @@.vincent;"So yeah,"@@ Vincent says, shifting his bag awkwardly. Despite the great strides he's made today and his newfound confidence, he's still a little shy. @@.vincent;"I just... wanted to say that."@@ He pauses, and his eyes flick up to your face, waiting for a response. <<button "You looked kind of cute when you got brave, you know" "Day 23 - 44">>\<<set $d23vincentflirt to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincentflirt" "You looked kind of cute when you got brave, you know" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'm really glad you enjoyed it" "Day 23 - 44">>\<<set $d23vincentflirt to false>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincentflirt" "I'm really glad you enjoyed it" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d23vincentflirt is true>>\ <<set $vincentRomance to Math.clamp($vincentRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You tilt your head slightly, letting your smile turn teasing. @@.player;"You looked kind of cute when you got brave, you know."@@ @@.vincent;"...What?"@@ Vincent says, but it comes out as more of a squeak than a word. You shrug like you didn't just say something massive. @@.player;"I'm just saying you had a moment where you were confident. You told Macy to say something nice. That's brave."@@ Vincent stares at you, cheeks turning pink so fast it's almost impressive. His mouth opens and closes and opens and closes, but the sentence doesn't assemble properly. @@.vincent;"I, um. I wasn't– I mean I was–"@@ he stammers, and then he makes this small distressed noise. He reaches out and touches his new glasses, and it's so automatic he doesn't even realize he did it. The frames don't slip, though, so he ends up just awkwardly tapping them for no reason whatsoever. @@.player;"Look at you,"@@ you say, grinning wider. @@.player;"Even your glasses are staying on. You're evolving, Vinny."@@ Vincent lets out a nervous laugh that sounds like he's trying not to combust. @@.vincent;"Please don't say 'evolving' like I'm a Pokoban."@@ @@.player;"Why not?'@@ you ask, feigning innocence. Vincent's eyes flick away, then back to you, like he's trying to survive this conversation with dignity. @@.vincent;"Because it makes it sound like you're watching me grow into some... confidence... creature."@@ @@.player;"Isn't that literally what's happening?"@@ you ask, laughing. Vincent's face turns fully red now, and he shakes his head quickly like he's trying to reset himself. @@.vincent;"I am ''not'' cute. I was just... trying to help."@@ You lean in close, keeping your voice light and low. @@.player;"You can be helpful and cute at the same time, you know."@@ @@.vincent;"That's not fair!"@@ Vincent squeaks, making an embarrassed noise. @@.player;"What?"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm just being honest."@@ @@.vincent;"But I don't know how to respond when you say things like that."@@ @@.player;"Well, I think you're doing great,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"You're blushing, aren't you? That's a response."@@ Vincent brings a hand up to his face, trying to physically cover the evidence of his embarrassment. Then he drops it again because he's trying to act normal. @@.vincent;"I'm not... I'm not used to compliments!"@@ You soften a little. @@.player;"Get used to them."@@ Vincent smiles. @@.vincent;"Alright, then,"@@ he says, voice small. Somehow, that makes it even cuter because he sounds like he's trying very very hard to be brave about it. <<elseif $d23vincentflirt is false>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'm really glad you enjoyed it,"@@ you say, trying your best to hand him something kind. @@.player;"You deserve to have fun and like your own life, Vincent. Like, actually. Not everything has to be about academics and college."@@ Vincent's expression softens immediately, and the way he looks at you... you can just tell he's grateful. His fingers hover near the strap of his backpack, now adorned with a pin, fidgeting out of habit. Then he catches himself and forces his hand to stay still. @@.vincent;"Thank you,"@@ he says, and you can tell he genuinely means it. @@.vincent;"I know I might sound dramatic, but it genuinely means a lot to me to hear someone say that."@@ @@.player;"Hey, don't worry about it being dramatic."@@ Vincent's smile grows larger, and he lets out a little breath. @@.vincent;"I keep thinking I have to be productive all the time. Like if I stop moving forward for even a second, I'll fall behind everyone else."@@ @@.player;"I can imagine that's difficult,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"Especially since it's our senior year."@@ @@.vincent;"It is a pain,"@@ Vincent says, nodding. @@.vincent;"And I didn't even realize how tired I was until today felt easy. Until I wasn't constantly bracing for or worried about something."@@ @@.player;"Maybe that's a sign that you made the right choice for your own happiness,"@@ you mutter. Vincent gives a tiny, thoughtful nod. @@.vincent;"Maybe it is."@@ He stands there for a moment, just looking like he's trying to memorize the feeling of being okay. The mall lights behind you glow against the dark, and the parking lot feels calmer now. The day is finally winding down. <</if>>\ Then Vincent's face changes, like a thought just hit him. @@.vincent;"Oh no,"@@ he says, eyes widening. @@.player;"Oh no, what?"@@ Vincent makes a small whine. @@.vincent;"I ''really'' need to get going."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"You're not gonna run back inside and buy a Noodlejago set last second, are you?"@@ Vincent laughs quickly. @@.vincent;"No. I need to get back home because... well, because I have homework."@@ @@.player;"Oh shit, you do,"@@ you say, sympathetic to his plight. Vincent looks apologetic even though he shouldn't. @@.vincent;"Even though I dropped an AP course, I still have six left."@@ @@.player;"Six?"@@ you repeat. He nods, as if saying it out loud hurts. @@.vincent;"Six."@@ @@.player;"That's fucked up,"@@ you say, chuckling. Vincent's smile turns sheepish. @@.vincent;"I agree."@@ You give him a wave. @@.player;"Okay. Go on then and be responsible. I'll let you go."@@ Vincent's shoulders relax, clearly relieved that you're not making him feel guilty about leaving. @@.vincent;"Thank you,"@@ he says again. He takes a step back, giving you this little awkward half-wave. @@.player;"See you around, Vinny,"@@ you say, amused. @@.vincent;"Bye, $name,"@@ Vincent says. Then he starts jogging off in one direction. You watch him for two seconds. Vincent slows and stops. He turns his head, eyes wide behind his glasses, like he just realized something. Then he pivots fully and jogs back toward you, cheeks pink with embarrassment. @@.vincent;"That... well, that was the wrong way,"@@ he mutters. You grin. @@.player;"You don't say."@@ Vincent turns red, clearly mortified, before turning and running off in the other direction, the correct direction this time. You watch him go, the little nerd who's still endearing and still awkward, yet somehow a little brighter. <<button "Time for you to go home" "Day 23 - 45">><</button>>

The walk home feels quieter than it should, but not in the peaceful way. It's the kind of quiet that makes every little sound feel louder and scarier than it should. Your footsteps on the sidewalk, the hum of traffic, and the occasional car swishing by. Even your own breathing is kind of disturbing. Maybe it's just because you were laughing five minutes ago and now you're alone again. Maybe it's because the sky's completely dark and the streetlights are spooky. Maybe it's because you're still riding a warm feeling that your brain doesn't know what to do with. Either way, you keep your hands in your pockets and try your best to act normal, ignoring the fact that you're glancing at every shadow you pass. You hear a rustle behind you. You should ignore it. You should keep moving. But you end up stopping and looking over your shoulder. But... nothing's there. There's sidewalk stretching back many yards, the edge of someone's lawn, and a tree casting a lopsided shadow across the pavement. No person, movement, or footsteps. You exhale and keep walking, telling yourself you're being dramatic. Then a leaf crunches to your left. Really fucking close, like it happened just off the sidewalk. You whip your head toward it. But there's... still nothing. You swallow and keep going, faster now, your steps automatically picking up pace even as you try to convince yourself you're not actually scared. This is ridiculous. You're an adult. Well, you're eighteen, but that's adult. Not to mention you've walked home a million times. And yet... A branch shakes up ahead. Not the whole tree, just one branch. And you can tell it's not wind. It moves in the way something does when an object brushes against it. You stop dead, your heart jumping. You stare at the branch like it's going to explain itself, but it doesn't. The rest of the tree is still. The air doesn't feel windy. The street is quiet. Your brain offers up a few possibilities. You start by being reasonable, maybe a squirrel jumped off of it or something, but then quickly spiral to worse possibilities. You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone with fingers that suddenly feel very heavy. Your thumb clumsily hovers over the screen. You're not even sure who to call. Luke would answer and immediately think you're being attacked by a bear. Samantha would answer and call you an overreacting idiot while still sprinting to your location. Your mom would panic. The police would probably not respond to you saying you heard a leaf. You glance behind you again and see nothing. You swallow, you're just being dramatic. It's fine. It's all fine. @@.aurora;"Boo."@@ The voice comes from right beside you, way too close to your ear. You fucking ''scream''. It's not dignified. It's not cool. It's a startled full-body sound that rips out of you. You spin so fast you almost trip, phone clutched like a weapon, raedy to fight for your life. Just to see Aurora. She's standing half in shadow and half under the streetlight, like she manifested out of the night just to see you scream. Her expression is so pleased with herself it's borderline criminal. She's tries to keep a straight face for a second, but she quickly fails, breaking into laughter. It's not a polite little "teehee," it's the kind of laugh where her shoulders shake and she has to bend over and clutch her stomach, in physical pain due to how funny she finds this. @@.aurora;"Oh my God, $name!"@@ Aurora says between laughs. @@.aurora;"You should've seen the look on your face."@@ You stare at her, chest heaving and heart still racing. @@.player;"What? Why? Aurora...?"@@ She points at you, still laughing. @@.aurora;"You screamed like a little girl!"@@ You clutch your phone tigheter and try to glare at her, but it's hard to stay angry when your adrenaline is high and she's literally wiping tears of laughter out of the corner of her eye. @@.player;"Why the hell did you do that?"@@ you demand, voice cracking on the last word. Aurora straightens up, still grinning. She tilts her head like she's considering your question seriously, like she's about to offer some deep explanation. Then she shrugs. @@.aurora;"Eh, I dunno,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"For fun."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"You stalked me in the dark for fun,"@@ you repeat, incredulous. @@.aurora;"Yes,"@@ Aurora says, smiling and looking completely unrepentant. @@.player;"I don't even know what to say. That's insane."@@ @@.aurora;"It's a little insane,"@@ she agrees, like it's a compliment. @@.aurora;"But you were doing that thing where you were trying to be brave and pretending you weren't totally scared. It was kinda adorable."@@ @@.player;"It was ''not'' adorable,"@@ you say, scoffing. @@.player;"I was ready to call 911."@@ Aurora gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest like you seriously hurt her. @@.aurora;"No. Not 911!"@@ @@.player;"Don't act like you're the victim here,"@@ you say, your heartbeat finally starting to slow. @@.player;"You're the one who decided to spook me for a prank."@@ Aurora makes a sound like she's trying not to laugh again, but the effort is failing. @@.aurora;"Okay, in my defense, it was funny."@@ @@.player;"That's not a defense."@@ @@.aurora;"Yes it is."@@ You rub a hand over your face, not sure whether to be annoyed or relieved. @@.player;"I made a mistake."@@ Aurora blinks. @@.aurora;"Oh?"@@ @@.player;"I made a mistake getting you to open up,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You were all mysterious and stuff, but under all that, it turns out you're a troll. I should've left you to just be creepy."@@ Aurora loses it again. She laughs so hard to the point she can't breathe. She's trying to regain control but it's not happening. @@.aurora;"That is ''so'' mean,"@@ Aurora wheezes. @@.aurora;"I open up to you after an insightful chat in the treehouse, and you tell me to go back to how I was before."@@ @@.player;"Can you blame me?"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"I thought you'd be kind, not a troll."@@ Aurora's eyes are bright in the streetlight. @@.aurora;"Shit, it //is// really funny, to be fair."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"I hate you."@@ @@.aurora;"Meh, I can deal with it,"@@ Aurora says. You glare at her. @@.player;"Why are you even here?"@@ That makes her expression shift. Her grin fades, her shoulders straighten slightly, and her eyes sharpen. @@.aurora;"I came to tell you something,"@@ she says. You stop messing around because you can hear the severity of the situation in her voice. @@.aurora;"Well, I'll start with the good news,"@@ Aurora says, sighing. @@.aurora;"The leylines around town have been stable. More stable than I expected, honestly."@@ @@.player;"...Isn't that a good thing?"@@ @@.aurora;"It could be good,"@@ she says, not sounding fully reassured. @@.aurora;"It means whoever's messing with them either paused, or they're doing something subtle enough to avoid detection. Which is not all that comforting."@@ @@.player;"So... if that's the good news, what's the bad news?"@@ you ask, gulping. Aurora's gaze stays on you steadily. @@.aurora;"Madame Serena is back in Crestview Bay."@@ The name hits hard as it brings back a lot of memories. The autumn festival, the tent, the $referto that keeps creeping forward. @@.player;"She's back,"@@ you repeat quietly. @@.aurora;"Yup,"@@ Aurora says solemnly. @@.player;"How do you know?"@@ you ask. Aurora's expression tightens, like she's weighing how much to reveal. @@.aurora;"People like her... leave ripples. She has an immense amount of mana. You can feel it, if you know what you're looking for."@@ @@.player;"What is she even doing here?"@@ @@.aurora;"No one ever truly knows what she's up to,"@@ Aurora mutters, exhaling. @@.aurora;"We, meaning the Mage Society, don't even know who she is, really. She kind of just shows up, makes something happen, then disappears. It's hard to get a straight answer from her."@@ @@.player;"So what does that mean for me?"@@ Aurora's eyes flick to your face, and for a second she looks like she's sorry for you. Like she hates that she's the one who has to say this. @@.aurora;"Just keep in mind,"@@ she says softly. @@.aurora;"That she's back and that... well, that she might check up on you again."@@ @@.player;"Why would she?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"Because you might be one of her special projects."@@ The words settle deep. @@.aurora;"I'm not saying she's going to appear tomorrow and ruin your whole life,"@@ Aurora says, trying her best to be gentle and keep you from panicking. @@.aurora;"I'm saying... don't be surprised if she does what she does. She watches, she tests, she's just..."@@ She stops herself, then shrugs. @@.aurora;"Just keep your head up, alright?"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"And don't ignore weird coincidences. It could mean something."@@ You swallow, still unsure how to react. The night feels a little sharper around the edges now. Aurora holds your gaze for a little longer before relaxing. The serious, ominous version of her slips away again. @@.aurora;"Hey,"@@ she says casually, trying to nudge the vibe back toward normal. @@.aurora;"Don't freak out."@@ @@.player;"Easy for you to say,"@@ you murmur, letting out a dry laugh. @@.player;"You're not the special project getting... checked up on."@@ @@.aurora;"Look, the fact is, you're not alone,"@@ Aurora says, clapping a hand on your shoulder. @@.aurora;"You know that, don't you?"@@ @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ She gestures vaguely with her other hand. @@.aurora;"The whole Crestview Bay Lumin Circle. We're not going to let Madame Serena mess with you when you're one of our own. And trust me, we're all pretty strong mages in our own right. Except for Milo."@@ @@.player;"Except for Milo?"@@ you say, laughing despite yourself. @@.aurora;"Come on, I love the little guy, but I don't think he can do much against Madame Serena,"@@ Aurora jokes, grinning. @@.aurora;"But yeah, we're here. Tell any of us if anything happens and we'll back you up."@@ The tightness in your chest eases a little. It's not gone, not even close, but it's certainly less. @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you say, nodding. Aurora smiles, and for a second she looks pretty pleased with herself. Then she flicks her gaze toward the direction you're headed. @@.aurora;"Alright,"@@ she says, stepping backward like she's about to melt into the night again. @@.aurora;"I've done my duty as your spooky warning messenger."@@ You squint at her. @@.player;"Are you going to say 'boo' again and spook me?"@@ Aurora grins. @@.aurora;"I will admit that it's tempting."@@ @@.player;"Aurora."@@ @@.aurora;"Relax!"@@ she says, laughing softly. @@.aurora;"I'm leaving now. Go home and sleep. Don't get scared by leaves crunching again."@@ @@.player;"You literally made it scary,"@@ you mutter. @@.aurora;"Keep your head up,"@@ she repeats, sing-song. Then she turns and walks off into the dim streetlight glow. You watch her go, but after a while, she just disappears. You can't help but shake your head in amusement. She's still fucking being mysterious. @@.player;"This has got to be the weirdest town ever,"@@ you murmur to yourself. And then you tuck your phone back in your pocket and keep walking home. <<button "Home for real this time" "Day 23 - 46">><</button>>

You get to your front door with heaviness settling into your shoulders, the tiredness hitting your body all at once. You stand in front of the door, keys in hand, and can hear the muffled sound of the TV through it. There are overlapping voices, dramatic music, and the occasional //beep// from someone swearing on cable. You unlock the door and step inside, soaking in the warmth and smell of clean laundry. The living room is lit by the TV's glow, flickering across the couch and coffee table. Your mom is curled up on one side of the couch in comfy clothes, hair tied back, looking relaxed. Lily is on the other side, leaning forward like she's personally invested in whatever disaster is happening on screen. On the television, two contestants are yelling over a pot of something that looks like molten cheese. A judge is making an offended face. @@.mom;"Hi honey,"@@ your mom says, face brightening right away. @@.mom;"You're home."@@ Lily snaps her head around too. @@.lily;"Oh my God. He lives."@@ You close the door behind you and shuffle your shoes off, already smiling. @@.player;"Hi to you too."@@ Your mom pats the cushion in the middle of the couch, like it's the most natural thing in the world that you'll come sit with them for a minute. @@.mother;"How was the mall? You were out for quite a while."@@ @@.player;"It was fun,"@@ you admit, pulling the backpack off your shoulder. The second the thing comes into view, Lily's eyes narrow. @@.lily;"What?!"@@ You pause. @@.player;"What's up?"@@ Lily points to your backpack. @@.lily;"$name, is that a JenSport?"@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.lily;"Oh my God, JenSport,"@@ Lily says, making a noise of disbelief that you didn't know she could even make. @@.lily;"The backpack brand that's totally trending right now?"@@ Your mom doesn't even look away from the show, as she knows exactly how this will go. @@.mom;"Lily."@@ @@.lily;"Oh my God, it is!"@@ Lily says, leaning over and grabbing the strap and tugging on it. Her face lights up with genuine excitement, which is rare because she usually just looks annoyed. @@.lily;"It's a JenSport! You got a JenSport!"@@ You glance at your mom. @@.player;"Is she okay?"@@ Your mom sighs, finally looking away from the television enough to give you a tired look. @@.mom;"Your little sister is just in the phase where she thinks trends are life or death."@@ @@.lily;"It //is// life or death,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"Do you know how embarrassing it is to have a backpack that's not current? Let me tell you, it is ''very'' embarrassing."@@ @@.mom;"Your backpack is doing just fine,"@@ your mom murmurs. Lily swings around to face her, eyes wide with indignation. @@.lily;"It was trending LAST year."@@ @@.mom;"It's a backpack,"@@ your mom mutters, face unchanging. @@.lily;"Mom, I need the one that's trending THIS year!"@@ Your mom takes a slow breath, clearly trying to build some patience. @@.mom;"Lily."@@ @@.lily;"He has it!"@@ Lily complains, pointing at you again. @@.player;"I didn't even know it was trending,"@@ you say, holding up a hand. @@.player;"A friend chose it for me, alright?"@@ @@.lily;"So you just accidentally got drip?"@@ Lily asks, squinting. @@.mom;"Lily, you have a perfectly good backpack,"@@ your mom says, clearly done with the conversation already. @@.mom;"You don't need a new one just because you saw it on someone else."@@ Lily gasps. @@.lily;"It's not because I saw it on someone else! It's because it's, like, a cultural moment. That I, of course, want to be a part of."@@ @@.player;"A cultural moment,"@@ you repeat. @@.lily;"Yes, that's exactly it."@@ Your mom gives you a small, helpless smile like, "//See what I deal with every day?//" She then reaches over and tucks a strand of Lily's hair behind her ear. @@.mom;"Sweetheart, we're not buying a new backpack every year."@@ Lily groans, collapsing back onto the couch dramatically. @@.lily;"You're ruining my life."@@ @@.mom;"I'm just keeping you humble,"@@ your mom says calmly. You flop down between them, just 'cause you can. Lily immediately shifts closer, like she's about to start something. @@.lily;"So, you went to hangout today, right?"@@ Lily says. @@.player;"Yes."@@ @@.lily;"Did you get mugged?"@@ Lily asks, eyes lighting up. @@.player;"No."@@ @@.lily;"Did you get chased by a raccoon?"@@ @@.player;"No."@@ @@.lily;"Did you get kidnapped?"@@ @@.player;"No."@@ @@.lily;"What a boring hangout."@@ Your mom laughs softly. @@.mom;"Lily, stop interrogating him."@@ @@.lily;"I'm just trying to understand his life,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"It seems lame."@@ You lean your head back and let out a long sigh. @@.player;"I hate it here."@@ @@.mom;"Everyone knows you love it here,"@@ your mom says, nudging your shoulder gently. Lily nods. @@.lily;"Yeah. You love it here."@@ On the TV, someone starts crying about a burnt omelette. Lily points at the screen like it's proof of something. @@.lily;"See? Now that's entertaining."@@ You turn your head slowly. @@.player;"Lily."@@ She grins, delighted that she annoyed you. Your mom watches the two of you with a fond expression, like she's seen this exact conversation a thousand times but still finds it entertaining. @@.mom;"Alright,"@@ she says, voice firm. @@.mom;"Be nice. He's home, and we're all together now. That's good."@@ Lily sighs dramatically, but she does shift a little closer to you anyway, bumping your arm in the process. @@.lily;"Fine! I'll be nice."@@ @@.player;"That's nice?"@@ you ask. @@.lily;"Yes,"@@ Lily says, dead serious. @@.lily;"Don't be ungrateful, dude."@@ Your mom turns her attention back to you. @@.mom;"So,"@@ she says, @@.mom;"what was the best part of today?"@@ @@.player;"Hmm,"@@ you mutter, thinking. Lily leans in, already impatient. @@.lily;"If you don't give a good answer, I'm taking your backpack while you sleep."@@ @@.player;"You can't do that."@@ @@.lily;"Oh yes I can."@@ Your mom closes her eyes, praying for strength. <<button "Tell them about Jasper and Macy" "Day 23 - 47">>\<<set $d23familyconvo to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D23_familyconvo" "Tell them about Jasper and Macy" "story">><</button>> <<button "Tell them about Vincent" "Day 23 - 47">>\<<set $d23familyconvo to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D23_familyconvo" "Tell them about Vincent" "story">><</button>> <<if $glasses is true>>\ <<button "Ask what they think of your glasses" "Day 23 - 47">>\<<set $d23familyconvo to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D23_familyconvo" "Ask what they think of your glasses" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d23familyconvo is 0>>\ You shift, moving deeper into the couch cushions. You let the TV's dramatic cooking-show music wash over you while you try to figure out how to summarize the chaos that was today without sounding like you got inducted into a cult. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, dragging the word out. @@.player;"So. There were... new people."@@ @@.lily;"New people?"@@ Lily asks, voice skeptical. @@.lily;"Like... friends? You're making friends now?"@@ @@.player;"Don't say it like that,"@@ you mutter. Your mom, on the other hand, is a lot gentler. Her face brightens instantly in interest. @@.mom;"New people? From your classes?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Art class."@@ Lily squints. @@.lily;"You take art?"@@ @@.player;"Yes I do,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I have art class and Vincent's there now."@@ @@.lily;"Ooh, I don't know this Vincent,"@@ Lily says, a smirk growing on her face. @@.lily;"Is he hot?"@@ @@.mom;"Hmm, I think you've mentioned him before,"@@ Mom says, nodding. @@.mom;"The nerdy one, right?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That's him."@@ @@.lily;"Never mind, I don't like nerds,"@@ Lily says, horrified. @@.lily;"So, who are the new people then?"@@ @@.player;"Right,"@@ you say. @@.player;"So Vincent and I were just sitting there, minding our own buisness, trying not to look like we don't belong–"@@ Lily interrupts. @@.lily;"I mean, you don't belong, though."@@ @@.player;"Shut up."@@ Your mom gently swats Lily's shoulder. @@.mom;"Let him talk."@@ You take a deep breath and continue. @@.player;"And then these two people just... show up. Like, they literally walk over to our table and said they were sitting here now because their last table was boring."@@ @@.lily;"So they stole your table?"@@ Lily asks, eyes widening. @@.player;"They didn't steal it, exactly,"@@ you say. @@.player;"They just adopted us."@@ @@.mom;"They adopted you?"@@ your mom asks, laughing softly. @@.player;"Yes,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That's the only word that really fits."@@ @@.lily;"Wait, were they cool?"@@ Lily asks. @@.lily;"Or were they weird?"@@ @@.player;"They were both,"@@ you say. Lily nods like that's the best kind. @@.lily;"Okay. Satisfactory. Continue."@@ @@.player;"So the girl is Macy,"@@ you begin. @@.player;"She's short with pink hair and talks at a thousand words a minute. She makes sense sometimes, but she's usually just complaining."@@ Your mom smiles, listening closely. @@.mom;"That sounds like a lot of energy."@@ @@.player;"Oh, it is,"@@ you say. @@.player;"She's like if a chihuahua discovered yaoi."@@ Lily bursts out laughing. @@.lily;"YAOI? Bro, Mom doesn't know that word."@@ @@.player;"Let's keep it that way,"@@ you respond. Your mom raises her eyebrows in that way that shows she knows more than she lets on, but she doesn't comment. @@.mom;"And the other one?"@@ @@.player;"Jasper's the other one,"@@ you say. @@.player;"He's... very chill. Like, he's big and loud but not obnoxious. He's just confident. He jokes around a lot and he's known Macy for so long that they bully each other constantly."@@ Lily sits back, impressed. @@.lily;"I respect that. Bullying is peak."@@ Your mom's smile turns fond. @@.mom;"They sound sweet, actually. In their own strange way, of course."@@ @@.player;"They are,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"They make everything fun because Macy will say something completely unhinged and Jasper will just start laughing at the ridiculousness. Vincent and I are left confused."@@ @@.mom;"So they just came up to you and Vincent?"@@ your mom asks. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Their old table didn't talk enough to keep their hyperactive brains interested."@@ @@.lily;"Your table was probably dead as hell before they came,"@@ Lily says, snorting. @@.player;"I didn't say that,"@@ you say, glaring. @@.lily;"But you didn't deny it,"@@ Lily says smugly. Your mom laughs softly. @@.mom;"How did Vincent handle it?"@@ @@.player;"He was overwhelmed at first,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"Like, he was all bug-eyed and panicking. But then he started talking and joking and fitting in."@@ @@.mom;"That's nice,"@@ your mom says, eyes softening. @@.player;"It was,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It was fun too. Macy's the kind of person who can make anything into something entertaining, so. They're cool, they're funny, and they just decided Vincent and I were included."@@ @@.mom;"I'm really glad you had people who pulled you in and included you,"@@ your mom says gently. @@.mom;"It's always nice to meet new people and make new friends."@@ @@.lily;"So you're basically part of the weirdo anime pack now,"@@ Lily assessses. You groan. @@.player;"I am not part of a weirdo anime pack."@@ Lily grins. @@.lily;"Too late, weirdo."@@ <<elseif $d23familyconvo is 1>>\ You shift on the couch before answering. @@.player;"Well,"@@ you start, @@.player;"I got a lot closer with Vincent today."@@ @@.lily;"Ooh, I don't know this Vincent,"@@ Lily says, a smirk growing on her face. @@.lily;"Is he hot?"@@ @@.mom;"Hmm, I think you've mentioned him before,"@@ Mom says, nodding. @@.mom;"The nerdy one, right?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That's him."@@ @@.lily;"Never mind, I don't like nerds,"@@ Lily says, horrified. @@.mom;"Don't be rude,"@@ your mom says, lightly slapping Lily's hand. @@.mom;"But that's wonderful, honey. You've known him for a while, right?"@@ @@.player;"Since the start of the school year, basically,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We're in PE together and have talked a few times. But today was different."@@ Lily narrows her eyes. @@.lily;"Different how?"@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"Don't be creepy."@@ @@.lily;"I'm not being creepy,"@@ Lily protests. @@.lily;"I'm being curious. There's a big difference, $name."@@ Your mom gives Lily a gentle look that basically tells her to not push it. @@.mom;"What made it different?"@@ @@.player;"Well, he switched into my art class,"@@ you say, picking at the edge of the couch cushion. @@.player;"Like, he actually dropped an AP class to do art instead."@@ Your mom's eyebrows lift. @@.mom;"That's a big decision."@@ @@.player;"It is,"@@ you say. @@.player;"He was really nervous about it too. He kept talking about college and he was scared that he could be making a mistake."@@ @@.lily;"I'm not gonna take a single AP course,"@@ Lily says proudly. @@.lily;"They sound hard."@@ @@.player;"That's the point,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's good for college."@@ Your mom ignores Lily's words, clearly not wanting to deal with it yet. @@.mom;"So you supported him?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We talked in class, and then we just kept hanging out after. Honestly, it was really fun. He's not just quiet like I thought he was. There's a lot to him that I didn't see until today."@@ @@.lily;"You probably scared him,"@@ Lily says, snorting. @@.lily;"That's why he was so quiet."@@ You glare at her. @@.player;"Don't make weird assumptions."@@ @@.lily;"I'm not,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"I'm telling the truth."@@ @@.player;"Shut up,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm not scary."@@ @@.lily;"Aren't you though?"@@ Your mom watches you two with that fond, tired smile. @@.mom;"What did you do together?"@@ You lean back, remembering the way. @@.player;"We went around the mall with two people we met in art class,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Those two had to go at one point, though, so it was just me and Vincent. We ended up going to a glasses store."@@ @@.mom;"A glasses store?"@@ your mom asks, looking concerned. @@.player;"He needed new glasses,"@@ you say. @@.player;"His old ones were slipping and super uncomfortable on his nose. He's like... 20/100."@@ Your mom winces sympathetically. @@.mom;"Oh, poor thing."@@ @@.lily;"Wait,"@@ Lily says, holding a hand up. @@.lily;"So he's blind."@@ @@.player;"He's not blind,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"He's blind,"@@ Lily insists. @@.player;"He's not legally blind,"@@ you correct. @@.player;"And he's definitely not blind blind."@@ Lily leans back, satisfied. @@.lily;"So he's //almost// blind."@@ @@.mom;"Lily,"@@ your mom mutters, giving her a look. @@.lily;"What?"@@ she says innocently. @@.lily;"I'm just worried about him."@@ You roll your eyes. @@.player;"Anyway, we got his new glasses, and he was genuinely happy. Like he kept shaking his head because they weren't slipping. It was nice to see."@@ @@.lily;"How sappy,"@@ Lily comments. @@.mom;"It's okay for $name to care about his friends,"@@ your mom says, voice gentle. Lily makes a gagging noise. @@.lily;"Ew."@@ You glare at her. @@.player;"Go away."@@ @@.lily;"I live here,"@@ Lily says smugly. @@.player;"Then after that, he wanted to go to the toy store to look at Leego sets,"@@ you say. @@.player;"He tried to lie and pretend he was going to look at an 'adult architecture line,' but his lying was so bad it was painful."@@ Your mom laughs. @@.mom;"That's sweet. I'm liking this Vincent."@@ @@.player;"He ended up admitting it was Noodlejago,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"He's been into it since he was a kid."@@ Lily's face twists. @@.lily;"Noodeljago is cringe and oldgen."@@ @@.player;"It's not cringe,"@@ you say immediately. Lily pauses, suspicious. @@.lily;"Why are you defending it?"@@ You pause. @@.player;"...Because I used to watch it too."@@ Lily laughs. You exhale. @@.player;"Anyway, that was it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It was nice and he seemed happy to be a part of something."@@ @@.mom;"That's great,"@@ your mom says, voice soft. You nod. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ <<elseif $d23familyconvo is 2>>\ You reach up and tap the frames on your face. @@.player;"Okay, important question,"@@ you say. @@.player;"What do you guys think of my glasses?"@@ Lily's head turns slowly toward you like a shark smelling blood. @@.lily;"Oh,"@@ she says. Your mom glances over, her smile immediate. @@.mom;"Oh, you got glasses?"@@ @@.player;"Just the frames, yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"No prescription. Vincent insisted, saying it looks good or something."@@ Your mom's smile grows. @@.mom;"Well, I think they look very nice on you."@@ Lily snorts loudly. @@.lily;"Mom."@@ Your mom gives Lily a warning look. @@.mom;"What?"@@ Lily leans forward, squinting at your face. @@.lily;"They make you look like... a substitute teacher."@@ @@.player;"...That's not even an insult,"@@ you murmur, staring. @@.player;"That's just confusing."@@ @@.lily;"It //is// an insult,"@@ Lily says, delighted. @@.lily;"You look like one of the nerdy substitutes. You're gonna assign more homework than the actual teacher and say 'Alright, scholars!' You'd get bullied out by the class."@@ Your mom laughs softly, then tries to hide it by coughing. @@.mom;"Lily."@@ @@.lily;"It's true,"@@ Lily insists. @@.lily;"You look like a librarian who owns a tiny little coffee shop on the first floor while you live on the second floor."@@ You blink. @@.player;"The hell are these insults?"@@ Lily keeps going, unstoppable now. @@.lily;"You look like you'd like nothing more than to cozy up with a nice book on a rainy day."@@ @@.player;"These aren't even insulting,"@@ you sputter. Your mom tilts her head. @@.mom;"On a positive note, I actually think it gives you a softer look, $name. A little more... thoughtful."@@ @@.lily;"Mom, he does not look like that,"@@ Lily says, gasping like she's offended by kindness. @@.lily;"He looks like he's about to remind the teacher about the homework."@@ @@.player;"You're literally being nonsensical,"@@ you murmur. @@.lily;"Am I?"@@ Lily says, smug. @@.lily;"Or are you just offended by the truth?"@@ You look at your mom. @@.player;"Please tell her she's being stupid."@@ <<if $acceptance > 49>>\ Your mom's eyes are warm. @@.mom;"I think you look pretty."@@ @@.player;"Why would you say that, Mom?"@@ you say, bracing for the coming joke. @@.lily;"Pretty?"@@ Lily says, scandalized. @@.lily;"He looks like he's about to get bullied by a guy named Brad."@@ <<else>>\ Your mom's eyes are warm. @@.mom;"I think you look handsome."@@ @@.player;"Why would you say that, Mom?"@@ you say, bracing for the coming joke. @@.lily;"Handsome?"@@ Lily says, scandalized. @@.lily;"He looks like he's about to get bullied by a guy named Brad."@@ <</if>>\ @@.mom;"Lily,"@@ your mom says, firmer now. Lily holds up her hands, but she's still grinning. @@.lily;"I'm joking, alright! Mostly."@@ You turn back to Lily. @@.player;"Do... I actually look weird?"@@ Lily pauses. It's subtle, but it's there. The moment where she realizes her teasing might've gone too far and she has to decide if she's going to be a monster or a person. She sighs dramatically. @@.lily;"No."@@ You blink. @@.player;"No?"@@ Lily rolls her eyes, cheeks faintly pink like she hates herself for being sincere. @@.lily;"They actually look good on you. Like... annoyingly good. It makes your face look nicer."@@ @@.player;"Are you okay?"@@ you ask, concerned by the way she's acting. Lily immediately snaps back into her usual self and scowls. @@.lily;"Don't make it weird."@@ @@.player;"I'm the one making it weird?"@@ you ask, grinning now. @@.player;"You're the one who complimented me."@@ @@.lily;"I did ''not'',"@@ Lily lies instantly. Your mom smiles, reaching over to squeeze Lily's shoulder. @@.mom;"That was very nice of you, Lily."@@ Lily groans. @@.lily;"I hate this family."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 48">><</button>>

Half an hour passes, and whatever you originally meant to talk about has been completely forgotten. You're not even sure when it happened. One minute you were watching your backpack to make sure Lily wouldn't steal it, and the next minute you're locked in, eyes glued to the TV, invested in this terrible cooking show. On screen, the two contestants are sprinting back and forth between their stations. Your entire household has decided one of them is your guy. Why? Because he has a massive forehead. You don't even remember who started it. Maybe Lily. Probably Lily. But at some point, the three of you collectively chose him. Your mom is sitting to the right of you, leaning forward with her hands clasped like she's watching the Olympics. Lily is on the left, knees pulled up on the couch while she watches. You're stuck in the middle, somehow also leaning forward, even though you really shouldn't care this much. On TV, Forehead Guy slaps something into a pan. Lily points at the screen aggressively. @@.lily;"YES KING. STIR IT. STIR IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT."@@ @@.player;"I don't know if he's stirring it,"@@ you say, already laughing. @@.player;"He's just... assaulting it."@@ @@.mom;"He's stirring with hatred,"@@ your mom observes. Forehead Guy dumps an entire handful of seasoning in like he's trying to bury the taste of everything underneath. The other contestant across from him is clearly panicking, calling out for help and knocking stuff over. @@.player;"Okay, our guy sucks, but the other one is somehow worse,"@@ you say. @@.player;"How the hell are you burning water?"@@ Lily gasps. @@.lily;"Yes. That man is the enemy and he sucks at cooking."@@ @@.mom;"Meanwhile, our guy has a vision,"@@ your mom says. @@.player;"What vision?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"A vision of the emergency room?"@@ Lily leans closer, squinting like she can will the food into being edible. @@.lily;"Look at him. He has passion."@@ On screen, Forehead Guy tries to flip something. Half of it lands on the stovetop and half on the counter. He stares at it for a few seconds before scooping it back in anyway. The editing adds a dramatic waterphone sound effect. @@.mom;"No,"@@ your mom gasps. @@.mom;"No, no, no. Baby, not the counter."@@ @@.lily;"He'll be fine,"@@ Lily insists. @@.lily;"He's literally the chosen one."@@ @@.player;"Chosen by who?"@@ you ask. @@.lily;"By us,"@@ Lily says like it's obvious. @@.lily;"And by his forehead. His forehead tells me everything I need to know."@@ @@.mom;"He has a leader's forehead,"@@ your mom mutters, dead serious. You choke out a laugh. @@.player;"That's not a thing."@@ @@.mom;"It is now."@@ The timer appears on the screen in giant numbers, now at 57 seconds. The dramatic music ramps up further. Forehead Guy is planting now. Not in a careful, tasteful way, but instead just shoveling everything onto a dish and praying. He wipes sweat off his (massive) forehead with the back of his hand, then smears some sauce on the dish. Lily starts chanting, @@.lily;"FOREHEAD! FOREHEAD! FOREHEAD!"@@ You cover your face, laughing so hard your stomach hurts. @@.player;"Lily! You can't call him that."@@ @@.lily;"It's his name though,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"He earned it."@@ Your mom joins in, quieter but just as committed. @@.mom;"Forehead! Forehead! Forehead!"@@ You stare at your mom. Has she been possessed? @@.player;"Mom, no. Not you too."@@ @@.mom;"I'm cheering for our guy!"@@ your mom says, smiling. The timer hits 10 seconds, and you all get even louder, as if the living room is a stadium. It doesn't matter that the dish looks like something you'd find in the garbage. It doesn't matter that Forehead Guy has tears in his eyes because his ravioli exploded. Your family is in too deep now. @@.lily;"TEN!"@@ Lily yells. @@.mom;"NINE!"@@ your mom yells. @@.player;"EIGHT!"@@ you yell, not even sure why you joined in. On screen, Forehead Guy does a last-second sprinkle of something that might either be salt or dandruff. He slides the plate forward with energy. 3 2 1 The buzzer sounds, and all three of you erupt like he just won the Super Bowl. @@.lily;"LET'S GOOO!"@@ Lily says, throwing her hands up. Your mom claps, laughing. @@.mom;"He did it! He survived!"@@ You point at the TV. @@.player;"I mean, he did survive, but only barely."@@ Forehead Guy looks into the camera with a haunted expression and then turns to the judges like he's about to be executed. The other contestant presents their dish too, and it's somehow worse. Theirs is a weird pile of food as well, but it has a suspicious sheen to it, like it's sweating. One of the judges leans forward and asks a question about technique, and the contestant replies with gibberish. Your mom squints. @@.mom;"I think they're both losing."@@ @@.lily;"NO!"@@ Lily says, shaking her head. @@.lily;"Not Forehead. Not my man."@@ You lean back. @@.player;"He'll be fine. It may look weird, but I'm sure he cooked."@@ Your mom snorts, then immediately gets serious again as the judging begins. The judges walk up like executioners, forks in hand. Forehead Guy tries to smile. It looks like he's never smiled before. One judge takes a bite, then pauses. You, Lily, and your mom all go dead silent. The judge chews slowly, eyes narrowing like they're trying to decide if this is food or not. Another judge takes a bite too and immediately makes a face like they just licked mud. Lily whispers, horrified, @@.lily;"No..."@@ @@.mom;"Oh no,"@@ your mom says, hand going to her mouth. You lean forward hard. @@.player;"Come on. Come on. Be nice."@@ The judge puts the fork down, turns to Forehead Guy, and says in a voice that is //way// too calm: @@.boy;"This is... utter dogshit."@@ A very loud, dramatic waterphone sound effect plays. Then the judge continues, absolutely merciless. @@.boy;"It's not fit for human consumption."@@ Forehead Guy's face collapses. Your mom gasps like she's just been slapped. @@.mom;"Oh my God!"@@ Lily screams, @@.lily;"WHAT?!"@@ You sit there with your mouth open, genuinely stunned. @@.player;"They can say that on TV?"@@ The show immediately cuts to dramatic music and a close-up of Forehead Guy holding back tears, then cuts to the other contestant looking smug. A big bold graphic slams onto the screen: ''TO BE CONTINUED...'' Lily makes a sad sound. @@.lily;"NO!"@@ @@.mom;"That's it?"@@ your mom says, throwing her hands up. @@.mom;"They can't end it there!"@@ @@.player;"They left us on a cliffhanger,"@@ you say, staring at the TV. @@.lily;"He's about to get eliminated,"@@ Lily says, eyes wide. Your mom, still scandalized, says, @@.mom;"That judge was so mean!"@@ You slump back into the couch, laughing. @@.player;"We should've known. The show is literally called //Kitchen Carnage//, after all."@@ @@.lily;"This is messed up,"@@ Lily murmurs. Your mom sighs deeply, rubbing her own forehead. @@.mom;"Alright. That's enough for the night."@@ Lily groans, flopping back dramatically. @@.lily;"I can't believe they did that to him!'@@ @@.player;"He did that to himself,"@@ you mutter, still amused. @@.player;"Did you see that food?"@@ @@.lily;"Shut up!@@ Your mom stands, smoothing her shirt like she's resetting herself into responsible adult mode after having fun. @@.mom;"Okay. Everyone to bed. Lily, $name, you both have school tomorrow."@@ Lily sits up and stretches like a cat. @@.lily;"Goodnight, Mom."@@ She glances at you with a wide smirk. @@.lily;"See you later, UGLY."@@ @@.player;"Goodnight, tiny demon."@@ Your mom gives you two a gentle look again. @@.mom;"Goodnight, honey."@@ @@.player;"Night,"@@ you say. The three of you peel off in different directions. Your mom goes to her room, Lily stomps down the hall, and you linger for a second on the couch. It's stupid, but you're smiling. That was pretty fun. <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ <<button "Nighttime fun?" "Day 23 - Masturbation 1">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Time for bed" "Day 23 - 49">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $bra to 69>>\ <<set $glasses to false>>\ You make it to your room on autopilot. Your brain is already half asleep and your body is just doing everything on its own. The shower helped in the way showers always do. The hot water let your thoughts stop spinning. Now, your skin feels clean and your head feels quieter, like the background noise got turned way down. You drag on some comfortable pajamas, toss your phone onto your nightstand, plug it in, and collapse onto your bed with a loud sigh. The sheets are cool where they should be cool and warm where they should be warm all at once. How perfect. Your eyes half-close, your brain drifting and wobbling between memories and nonsense. That's when the air in the room suddenly shifts. You can feel some of your mana brushing against the edges of reality. <<if $familair is 0>>\ The first thing you feel is a soft, careful pressure near your pillow. You crack one eye open, and Sable is there in the dim light. She looks ridiculously cozy and satisfied with her life as a literal magical lynx. Her tufted ears twitch once, and her eyes glint. She walks up the bed with absolute confidence, paws barely making a sound on the blanket, before pausing near your shoulder like she's deciding whether you've earned cuddles tonight or not. You don't move, because the second you do, she'll probably hop off and disappear out of spite. Instead, you just breathe and watch her. Sable lowers herself in a slow curl right up against your chest and shoulder, warm fur pressing into you. She's small enough that it's not heavy, just comforting. She's like a living, purring heat pack. Her tail drapes across you as if she's your owner, and then she starts purring steadily. @@.player;"Hey, Sable,"@@ you whisper. Sable's ears flick again, like she heard you and decided you're acceptable. She nudges her head under your chin, a little push that forces you into the position that she wants you to be in. You obey without thinking, because you're not about to argue with a magical lynx who could violently fuck you up if she felt like it. The purring deepens, a soft engine of comfort, and you smile. @@.player;"This is unfairly cute,"@@ you mumble. Sable gives a tiny little chirp. <<elseif $familiar is 1>>\ At first you think you imagined it, just the faintest brush of movement across the blanket. But then you feel something cool and smooth slide near your ankle, and realize it is definitely ''not'' just your imagination. You lift your head groggily and see Seraphine's little rattlesnake face right in front of you, watching you with the most annoying, satisfied expression a snake should not be able to make. She's coiled neatly on the blanket near your legs like she's been waiting for you to notice her. The second you do, her tongue flicks out in happiness. @@.player;"Oh my,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"it's you."@@ Seraphine's tail lifts slightly, the rattle hovering in the air. @@.player;"Please don't threaten that again,"@@ you mumble. @@.player;"I'll file a complaint with the Mage Society."@@ Seraphine makes a tiny sound, like she's laughing at you. Then she slides closer, curling up along the side of your thigh where the blanket is warm. She's cool for about two seconds, then your body heat starts to warm her up, and she relaxes into it like she's been waiting all day for the bestest cozy spot. She lets her rattle settle against the pillow. @@.player;"You're being weirdly nice,"@@ you murmur, suspicious. Seraphine's tongue flicks once, and she shifts slightly closer. It's like she's saying she //is// being weird, and to not make it weird. It's almost sweet, in her own silly way. You're her owner and her person to bother, which apparently includes sleeping near you like a tiny guard snake. Your eyelids droop again. @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you mumble. @@.player;"You can stay. Just don't jump scare me."@@ Seraphine's rattle gives the faintest little //tap// against the blanket. <<elseif $familiar is 2>>\ There's a soft //thump// at the foot of the bed, followed by a warm weight as something pads across the blanket. You crack your eyes open just enough to see a coyote in the dim light, ears perked, tail giving a small wag like she's pleased with herself for showing up at exactly the same time. She circles once, arranging herself for maximum comfort, then plops down with a quiet //huff/ right next to your chest. The warmth of her body turns your bed from cozy to ridiculously cozy, like someone shoved a heated pillow onto it. @@.player;"You... just decided we're sharing the bed now, huh?"@@ you mumble. Solana's response is a soft little whine, like she's saying //obviously//. She then nudges your leg with her snout as if to make sure you don't move around. It's weirdly affectionate. You try to shift slightly, just to get comfortable, and Solana immediately readjusts too. She scoots closer, refusing to let any space exist between you. She lets out another tiny sound, complaining about you moving. @@.player;"Okay, okay,"@@ you say, amused. @@.player;"I get it. You're the boss, Solana."@@ Solana's ears flick, like she approves of your acceptance, and then she goes still. She breathes slow and steady, warmth radiating into you. It makes the room feel safer. After all, what could go wrong when you're lying in bed with a magical coyote familiar? <</if>>\ Tomorrow's coming up in a blink of an eye, huh? Wait. Romeo and Juliet auditions are tomorrow. Mr. Bennet's going to be there, but in his serious mode. There'll be lines, there'll be acting, there'll be an audience. Jordan and Noelle will be there, trying out for parts too. You wonder if Noelle will be able to handle the pressure. But you can worry about all that tomorrow. Not today. For today, you rest with your cute familiar. You let your eyes close fully, your body sinking deeper into the mattress. The last thing you register is your familiar's wet nose pressing against you as you slip under. <<button "zzz" "Day 24 - 1">><</button>>

<<if $d23vincentcomfort is 0>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a second before answering, not because you don't know what to say, but rather because you want to say it right. @@.player;"That actually sounds really healthy,"@@ you say finally, voice calm and sincere. @@.player;"Like... genuinely good for you."@@ Vincent blinks in surprise. @@.vincent;"It does?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, it does,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"You didn't quit because it was hard or because you were lazy. You dropped something you didn't even care about to make room for something you actually want to do. That's not irresponsible, Vincent. If anything, it's kind of the opposite."@@ He smiles, and it's not forced this time. @@.player;"I think some people forget that high school isn't supposed to just be prep work for college,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"It's also life. Like, this is it. You don't get a redo of your teen years. You might as well spend it doing what makes you happy."@@ Vincent lets out a soft laugh. @@.vincent;"When you say it like that, it sounds way more reasonable."@@ @@.player;"That's because it //is// reasonable."@@ He looks down at his sketchbook again, but this time there's less doubt in the way he does it. @@.vincent;"I kept telling myself that if I could handle AP Physics C, I should do it. Just push through. But I hated waking up for it. I hated the homework. I hated having to spend so much time on it."@@ @@.player;"That's not a great sign,"@@ you say gently. @@.vincent;"No,"@@ he agrees. @@.vincent;"It really wasn't."@@ There's a small pause. @@.vincent;"I was scared I'd regret this choice,"@@ Vincent says quietly. @@.vincent;"But honestly? I think I'd regret never letting myself try something like this way more."@@ You nod again. @@.player;"That sounds right. When you're older, you might think about all you missed out on by staying in that class."@@ Vincent exhales slowly, like he's finally letting go of something heavy he's been carrying around. @@.vincent;"Thank you,"@@ he says, almost shyly. @@.vincent;"I didn't realize how badly I needed someone to say that."@@ @@.player;"Anytime,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You're allowed to want things, Vincent."@@ @@.vincent;"I feel lighter,"@@ he admits. @@.vincent;"Like I don't have to justify myself constantly."@@ @@.player;"That's good,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You shouldn't have to."@@ He glances around the room again, taking in the easels, the supplies, the sunlight. @@.vincent;"I'm still nervous,"@@ he adds. @@.vincent;"But... I think that's okay. It's the good kind. The kind that means it matters."@@ @@.player;"I'm sure you'll like it,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"I'm really glad you sat next to me,"@@ he says suddenly, then immediately flushes. @@.vincent;"I mean, uh, not in a weird way. Just. It helps, $name."@@ @@.player;"I'm glad you're here too, Vincent."@@ For the first time since you walked in, Vincent looks like he actually belongs here. <<elseif $d23vincentcomfort is 1>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $vincentRomance to Math.clamp($vincentRomance + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You smile at him first before answering. @@.player;"Well, I'm glad you did,"@@ you say, voice light but warm. @@.player;"Art class just got a lot more interesting with you in it."@@ There's a brief moment where Vincent just stops, like his brain disconnected from his body. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Oh. I mean."@@ He clears his throat, pushes his glasses up, then realizes he accidentally pushed them up too far and has to fix them again. His ears are turning pink. Definitely pink. @@.vincent;"That's, um, thank you?"@@ You can't help the small laugh that slips out. You're not trying to be mean, he's just cute. @@.vincent;"Well, I, I'm..."@@ he starts, then stops. Tries again. @@.vincent;"Well, I'm glad you're here too."@@ He winces immediately. @@.vincent;"Not that you weren't already here. I mean, you were probably here since the start of the semester. Obviously. I just—"@@ He gestures helplessly between the two of you. You tilt your head in amusement. @@.player;"It's alright. Take your time."@@ He laughs, clearly embarrassed. @@.vincent;"Sorry, I'm not great at... this. Whatever this is."@@ @@.player;"That's okay,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm not either."@@ That earns you a shy little glance. @@.vincent;"You're doing good,"@@ he says earnestly, then immediately looks down at his sketchbook like he can't believe he said that out loud. @@.player;"You know, dropping AP Physics for art kind of makes you cooler,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"It does?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say casually. @@.player;"You chose something you actually care about. That's attractive."@@ There's no subtle way to describe the way he reacts to that. His face goes red. Not pink this time. But solid red. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says again, helplessly. @@.vincent;"I-I didn't... I don't think anyone's ever called one of my academic decisions attractive before."@@ @@.player;"There's a first time for everything,"@@ you say. He bites his lip, trying (and failing) to hide a smile. @@.vincent;"I guess... um... I'm glad that you sat next to me then."@@ He pauses, then rushes to add, @@.vincent;"Because if it was someone else, I might have panicked and fled."@@ @@.player;"That bad?"@@ you tease gently. @@.vincent;"Yes,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"It would've been catastrophic."@@ @@.player;"Guess I saved you."@@ @@.vincent;"I think you did,"@@ he says, his fingers a little shaky. @@.vincent;"Just so you know, I'm really glad you think I belong here."@@ You meet his eyes. @@.player;"You do."@@ <<elseif $d23vincentcomfort is 2>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I mean..."@@ you start, rubbing the back of your neck, eyes drifting away from Vincent and toward the front of the room without really focusing on anything. @@.player;"AP Physics //is// important, though. Especially for college. A lot of top schools really like seeing STEM, you know?"@@ Vincent's smile freezes, as if someone hit pause. @@.player;"I'm not saying art is bad or anything, I'm in this class too, after all,"@@ you add quickly, words tumbling out in that way you get when you realize you might've fucked up. @@.player;"Just that admissions are brutal, and colleges want to see you challenge yourself. AP Physics C is, like, //the// class for that. The hardest AP Pacific Crest offers."@@ Vincent nods slowly. @@.vincent;"Yeah,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"No, that makes sense."@@ You don't notice the way his fingers tighten around his pencil until after. @@.vincent;"I did think about that,"@@ he continues, voice still polite. @@.vincent;"A lot, actually. I'm definitely not under the impression that this is optimal. At least on paper."@@ You shift in your seat. @@.player;"I mean, all I'm saying is that you already have a really strong academic profile. Dropping one of the hardest classes might look... I don't know. Risky?"@@ @@.vincent;"Right,"@@ Vincent says softly. He glances down at his sketchbook and flips it open, even though he's clearly not ready to draw yet. He taps the pencil against the page once, then again, like he's grounding himself. @@.vincent;"I guess I was hoping it wouldn't matter //that// much,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Since I still have a bunch of APs, especially from junior year. But you're probably right."@@ The word //probably// hangs there. You realize then, far too late, that he's already folded your words into his existing doubts. @@.player;"I didn't mean to—"@@ you start, then stop, because you're not actually sure how to finish that sentence. @@.vincent;"It's okay,"@@ Vincent says quickly. @@.vincent;"Really. I appreciate you being honest."@@ But something's changed. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 6">><</button>>

Two shadows suddenly fall across the table. Then an extremely energetic voice drops in from above, bright and unapologetically loud. @@.macy;"Hi. Sorry. Important question. Are these seats taken, or just emotionally guarded?"@@ You look up. Standing there is a short girl with pastel pink hair pulled into a messy bun, several strands escaping and framing her face. She's wearing an oversized hoodie that practically swallows her hands, and there's a crossbody bag slung across her chest with way too many accessories dangling on it. There are two little plushies as well, swinging from side to side. Her green eyes are wide, sparkling, and already scanning the table like she's decided on her new home. Next to her is a guy who looks just as comfortable being here as she looks excited. He's chubby, broad-shouldered, and relaxed. His hair has a glossy blue highlight at the front. He seems confident, like he's never been afraid of taking up space. One hand holds a sketchbook that's visibly well-loved, corners bent and cover beat up. He's smiling like he's already amused by whatever is about to happen. <<set $artgangCG to true>>\ <<set $artgangCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $artgangCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $artgangCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_ArtGang">>\ Vincent startles so badly his pencil leaves a small, jagged line on the page. @@.vincent;"Oh!"@@ he says, then immediately ducks his head. @@.vincent;"Uh, hi."@@ You blink, taken a little off guard, then glance between the two of them. @@.player;"Um... I think it's open? I mean, I don't think I've ever seen anyone sit there twice in a row."@@ Pink-hair beams. @@.macy;"Perfect."@@ Blue-hair nods solemnly. @@.jasper;"Excellent news."@@ Vincent looks at you, then back at them, clearly unsure whether he's supposed to say something else. You feel that familiar instinct kick in. The need to be polite and make conversation. @@.player;"So...?"@@ you say. @@.player;"What's up?"@@ The girl clasps her hands together dramatically. @@.macy;"I'm Macy, he's Jasper, and we're looking for a new table."@@ Vincent waves awkwardly. @@.vincent;"V-Vincent."@@ The guy sighs heavily. @@.jasper;"Our old one was too boring."@@ @@.macy;"Like, //criminally// boring,"@@ Macy adds. @@.macy;"No conversation. No passion. One guy just kept erasing the same line over and over like he was trapped in a time loop or something."@@ @@.jasper;"I think he was drawing a cube,"@@ Jasper says. She waves him off. @@.macy;"A sad cube."@@ Vincent lets out a small, surprised laugh before he can stop himself, then immediately looks embarrassed about it. You glance down at the table, and there's space. @@.player;"Uh,"@@ you say, gesturing vaguely. @@.player;"Sure. You can sit here."@@ Her eyes light up instantly. @@.macy;"YES!"@@ She doesn't wait for further confirmation, already dragging a chair over that scrapes against the ground far too loudly. The guy follows her lead, pulling another chair and dropping into it easily, like he's done this exact thing a hundred times. Vincent stiffens for a second, overwhelmed, but you notice he looks pleased. Macy leans forward, resting her chin in her hands as she studies Vincent openly. @@.macy;"You're new."@@ Vincent freezes. @@.vincent;"I, yes. Today."@@ @@.macy;"Oh my God,"@@ she says, delighted. @@.macy;"The fresh meat is a transfer //and// quiet. Incredible!"@@ The guy chuckles. @@.jasper;"She's just excited because new people haven't learned to avoid her yet."@@ @@.macy;"That's not true,"@@ she says immediately. Her gaze then snaps to you. @@.macy;"Anyway, you're not new."@@ @@.player;"Nope,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Just tired."@@ She nods, deeply understanding. @@.macy;"That is completely valid."@@ Vincent clears his throat. @@.vincent;"I just switched into this class,"@@ he explains, clearly feeling like he should justify his existence. @@.vincent;"I dropped another one."@@ @@.jasper;"Oh?"@@ Jasper says, interested. @@.jasper;"Which one?"@@ @@.vincent;"AP Physics C,"@@ Vincent says softly. Macy gasps like she's just heard something scandalous. @@.macy;"You DROPPED Physics?"@@ Vincent braces. @@.vincent;"I, uh, I didn't really like it, and—"@@ @@.macy;"That's iconic,"@@ she says without hesitation. Vincent visibly short-circuits. Jasper laughs, loud and warm. @@.jasper;"Yeah, honestly? Respect. Art is better anyway."@@ Macy starts to vibrate in her seat. @@.macy;"I'm only in art because I want to make my own boys' love manga one day,"@@ she announces, even though nobody asked. @@.macy;"Like, a real one. Full series. Good art. Slow burn. Gets an anime adaptation. Becomes the best yaoi ever made. Ruins people emotionally."@@ Vincent's eyes widen a little. You can tell he's not sure how to feel about that information. @@.vincent;"Oh, wow,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"That's... ambitious."@@ @@.macy;"Thank you,"@@ she says seriously. @@.macy;"I have a vision."@@ She leans forward, elbows on the table now, clearly gearing up. @@.macy;"Right now I'm obsessed with this vampire x servant series, though. It's not mine, sadly, but it's incredible. Like, okay, so there's this slave who gets reassigned to serve this super quiet nobleman, and everyone thinks the noble's just reclusive and weird, but surprise, he's a vampire."@@ Vincent nods slowly. @@.vincent;"That sounds—"@@ @@.macy;"And the servant doesn't know at first, but there are all these little clues,"@@ she barrels on. @@.macy;"Like the nobleman refuses to eat garlic, and the house staff keeps disappearing, and there's this whole thing with mirrors—"@@ @@.jasper;"Macy,"@@ Jasper says calmly. She waves him off without even looking. @@.macy;"—and the servant is terrified at first, like, obviously. Duh, he just got assigned to this random mansion. But then he realizes the vampire is actually incredibly lonely and has been alive for centuries and—"@@ @@.jasper;"Macy."@@ @@.macy;"—AND there's this tension because the power imbalance is bad, like really bad, and the narrative actually addresses it instead of romanticizing it—"@@ @@.jasper;"Macy."@@ She finally pauses, blinks, and looks over at him. @@.macy;"What?"@@ @@.jasper;"You're doing the thing,"@@ he says, smiling. She groans. @@.macy;"Ughhhh, I always do the thing."@@ Vincent laughs, a little breathless as if he's the one who did all the talking. @@.vincent;"It sounds really cool."@@ @@.macy;"It //is//,"@@ Macy says immediately, pointing at him. @@.macy;"Thank you, Vincent. See? He gets it, Jasper."@@ @@.jasper;"She's been talking about that series for, like, months now,"@@ Jasper says, clearly enjoying this. @@.macy;"It's because it's GOOD,"@@ Macy insists. @@.macy;"Also tragic. Also gay."@@ @@.jasper;"You guys are cool,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"The fact that you didn't move when Macy was rambling means you passed the vibe check already."@@ Macy nods emphatically. @@.macy;"Yeah. Vincent, you're quiet, but not in a scary way. And you, you have protagonist energy."@@ @@.player;"First, it's $name,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Second, is that a good thing?"@@ @@.macy;"Oh, it's excellent."@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"She means you look like you'd survive an anime."@@ @@.macy;"I would survive an anime,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"Just barely, but I'd live."@@ Vincent relaxes a little more. @@.vincent;"So... are the two of you into art?"@@ @@.jasper;"Very,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"I'm more into illustration and concept stuff. Mecha, cyberpunk, sci-fi environments. I like big machines, neon lights, and morally questionable corporations."@@ Macy gasps. @@.macy;"His robots are hot."@@ @@.jasper;"They are not—"@@ @@.macy;"They absolutely are,"@@ she insists. @@.macy;"One of them had hips."@@ Vincent laughs again, more freely this time. @@.vincent;"I mostly like sketching and historical stuff. Architecture. Clothing. Historical figures."@@ @@.macy;"That's perfect,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"When I make my manga, I'm recruiting you for backgrounds."@@ Jasper sighs. @@.jasper;"She's recruited, like, everybody. I don't think anyone actually wants in."@@ Vincent blinks, seemingly endeared. @@.vincent;"You'd want me on your project?"@@ he asks, ignoring Jasper. @@.macy;"Duh,"@@ Macy says like it's obvious. @@.macy;"You already dropped AP Physics for art. You're one of us now."@@ He smiles, a little shy, but also proud. @@.jasper;"Wait,"@@ Jasper says, holding a hand up. @@.jasper;"$name, what do you like to draw?"@@ You freeze. What //do// you like to draw? <<button "People" "Day 23 - 7">>\<<set $d23drawpreference to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D23_drawpreference" "People" "story">><</button>> <<button "Backgrounds" "Day 23 - 7">>\<<set $d23drawpreference to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D23_drawpreference" "Backgrounds" "story">><</button>> <<button "Objects" "Day 23 - 7">>\<<set $d23drawpreference to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D23_drawpreference" "Objects" "story">><</button>> <<button "Anime girls" "Day 23 - 7">>\<<set $d23drawpreference to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D23_drawpreference" "Anime girls" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d23drawpreference is 0>>\ You think about it for a second. Your eyes end up drifting around the room automatically. You don't really //look// at anyone, but you can notice things about them anyway. The way one guy's shoulders are sloped because he's tired, how a girl is leaning far too back in her chair, how Vincent keeps tucking himself inward like he's afraid of taking up any more space than he absolutely needs to. @@.player;"People,"@@ you say finally. @@.player;"I like drawing people."@@ Jasper's eyebrows lift. @@.jasper;"Oh?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you continue, finding your footing. @@.player;"Not just, like, portraits. More like body language and expressions. The way someone sits or stands when they're not thinking about it. I like trying to catch what someone's feeling without them having to say it."@@ @@.vincent;"That's really hard, though,"@@ Vincent says, clearly intrigued. @@.player;"Oh, tell me about it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"People move and change a lot. You mess up one line and suddenly they look like a completely different person. Or if you mess it up real bad, they don't even look like a person anymore. But that's kinda what makes it interesting."@@ Macy hums thoughtfully. @@.macy;"So you're into vibes."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Vibes, energy, whatever you want to call it. I like figuring out why someone looks the way they do in a moment. Like, are they tense? Are they comfortable? Are they trying to hide something? It's all so interesting."@@ Jasper nods slowly. @@.jasper;"That's actually impressive. People are way harder than mechas."@@ @@.vincent;"It sounds like you're really observant,"@@ Vincent says, smiling. You shrug, a little self-conscious. @@.player;"Maybe I am. I think I just notice things."@@ @@.macy;"Well, in my expert opinion, that's literally the best trait an artist can have."@@ @@.player;"I like drawing people when they're not posing,"@@ you add. @@.player;"When they're distracted. Laughing or thinking or just doing nothing. It feels far more honest."@@ @@.vincent;"That's really nice,"@@ Vincent says quietly. Jasper points at you. @@.jasper;"You'd be dangerous as a character artist."@@ @@.macy;"Oh my God, yes,"@@ Macy says, gasping dramatically. @@.macy;"You'd be perfect for emotional close-ups. Like the panels where nothing happens except someone's expression changing. Those are my favorites, though, so you can't work for me."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Close-ups are one of my favorite parts,"@@ you say, ignoring her last sentence. <<elseif $d23drawpreference is 1>>\ You think about it for a moment, eyes drifting past the table and toward the tall windows along the wall. Sunlight is spilling in at an angle, catching dust in the air. Your brain automatically starts breaking it down into lines and structure. @@.player;"Backgrounds,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Buildings, rooms, streets. All that jazz."@@ Jasper perks up immediately. @@.jasper;"Oh, that's sick."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you continue, emboldened by his reaction. @@.player;"I like places more than people, I think. Or... the way places feel. Like an empty hallway, or a bedroom that looks lived-in, or a street at night that's not quite asleep yet."@@ Vincent leans in, interest written all over his face. @@.vincent;"That's really specific."@@ @@.player;"I like figuring out how a place tells a story on its own,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"You can tell a lot about someone just by the room they live in. Or about a town just by the buildings."@@ Macy nods rapidly. @@.macy;"Oh my God, yes. Establishing shots."@@ @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I love those. The first panel where you just sit in the world for a second before even meeting the main character."@@ @@.jasper;"Honestly? That's a skill."@@ Jasper says, grinning. @@.jasper;"Backgrounds are a bitch."@@ @@.player;"Oh, trust me, I know,"@@ you agree. @@.player;"Perspective alone is a nightmare. But once it clicks, it's kind of addictive. I like lining everything up, figuring out where the light comes from, how old a building is, what kind of history it's got. All that."@@ Vincent's eyes brighten. @@.vincent;"That's kind of like architecture. I ''love'' architecture."@@ @@.player;"Same,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's fun researching everything about that time period and the style the buildings were made in. Then after I've decided on that, I get really into details. Cracked walls, uneven stairs, signs that are half broken. Stuff that shows time has passed and the place has been lived in."@@ Macy rests her chin in her hands, staring at you like she's just discovered her new favorite person. @@.macy;"You'd be ''amazing'' at manga backgrounds. Like the kind that make people stop and stare. You should work for me!"@@ Jasper ignores her last sentence. @@.jasper;"You should draw a cyberpunk city. It's fun, I promise."@@ You laugh softly. @@.player;"Maybe. I like drawing places I'd want to walk through. A cyberpunk city would make for an interesting stroll."@@ @@.vincent;"How about a medieval market?"@@ Vincent asks. @@.player;"That sounds fun too,"@@ you say. <<elseif $d23drawpreference is 2>>\ You think about it for a second, eyes drifting to a random chipped mug from last period that someone must've forgotten to clean. It's the kind of thing you'd normally start tracing absentmindedly without even realizing. @@.player;"Objects,"@@ you say finally. @@.player;"Like... a lot of different ones."@@ Jasper perks up immediately. @@.jasper;"Yeah?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"Cups, chairs, shoes, cars, random stuff people leave around. I like drawing things that aren't supposed to be the focus."@@ You gesture vaguely, like the idea is bigger than your hands can keep up with. @@.player;"Stuff people interact with without really thinking about it."@@ Vincent tilts his head, curious. @@.vincent;"Like... everyday objects?"@@ @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say. @@.player;"A coffee cup that someone uses every day. A backpack dumped on the floor with the zipper half open. A pen someone's chewed on too much. I think it's kind of fun trying to figure out what a person's like from the things they use."@@ Macy gasps softly, clasping her hands together. @@.macy;"That's actually really cute."@@ @@.player;"It is?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.macy;"Yeah,"@@ she says firmly. @@.macy;"That's like... character design without the character."@@ @@.jasper;"That's a good way to put it,"@@ Jasper says, nodding along. @@.jasper;"Environmental storytelling."@@ Vincent's eyes light up at that. @@.vincent;"Oh. Oh, that makes sense! Like how historians infer daily life from tools and artifacts."@@ @@.player;"Exactly like that,"@@ you say, grinning. He looks genuinely excited now. @@.vincent;"That's really cool. I never thought about objects that way."@@ @@.player;"I didn't either at first,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I just started drawing them because they were there. It felt less intimidating than people. Objects don't care if you mess them up. But the more I did it, the more I realized they kind of carry traces of whoever used them."@@ @@.jasper;"So like, a cracked mug isn't just a mug,"@@ Jasper observes, leaning back in his chair. @@.jasper;"It's someone who drops things. Or maybe someone who's tired. It could even be someone who doesn't want to throw it away."@@ @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say, a little surprised at how seen you feel. @@.player;"I like that quiet detail."@@ Macy squints at you, then points. @@.macy;"You'd be amazing at drawing the background objects in manga panels. Like the stuff people don't notice but absolutely feel. You should work for me."@@ @@.vincent;"I can see how it makes things feel lived-in,"@@ Vincent says, ignoring her last sentence. @@.player;"That's the goal, I guess,"@@ you say. <<elseif $d23drawpreference is 3>>\ You don't even hesitate. @@.player;"Anime girls,"@@ you say. There's a half-second of silence at the table. @@.jasper;"Oh,"@@ Jasper says, blinking in surprise. You nod, completely serious. @@.player;"Yeah. Anime girls."@@ @@.vincent;"Like.. the characters?"@@ Vincent asks, tilting his head. @@.player;"Yep."@@ Macy squints at you. @@.macy;"Elaborate."@@ You shrug, leaning back in your chair. You should probably be embarrassed, but you feel way too confident. @@.player;"I don't know. Girls are cute. Anime is cute. Anime girls are just... extra cute? It makes sense."@@ @@.jasper;"That's your entire artistic philosophy?"@@ Jasper asks, snorting. @@.player;"Pretty much,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Big eyes, cute outfits, and expressive faces. Sometimes magical, sometimes just holding a drink and looking adorable for no reason."@@ Vincent lets out a surprised laugh. @@.vincent;"That's... very honest."@@ @@.player;"I don't know about you, but I respect honesty in art,"@@ you reply solemnly. Macy stares at you for a moment... before it suddenly turns into a glare. @@.macy;"Oh my God,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"You're my natural enemy."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Enemy?"@@ @@.macy;"I draw anime guys,"@@ she declares. @@.macy;"Specifically boys. Pretty boys. Sad boys. Boys who need therapy. Boys who absolutely would fall in love with the wrong person."@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"She's not kidding. Every sketchbook she owns is, like, 90% doomed twinks."@@ @@.macy;"THEY ARE NOT DOOMED,"@@ Macy protests. @@.macy;"They're emotionally complex, //Jasper//."@@ Vincent is smiling now as he watches this unfold. @@.vincent;"So you two just... cancel each other out?"@@ @@.macy;"No, actually,"@@ Macy says immediately. @@.macy;"We form a perfect ecosystem."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Balance."@@ @@.macy;"You should work for me,"@@ Macy says, pointing at you. @@.macy;"You draw the girls. I draw the guys. Together, we create manga."@@ @@.jasper;"This is how studios are born,"@@ Jasper says, leaning back. @@.player;"I'm up for it,"@@ you say. <</if>>\ @@.jasper;"Okay, yeah,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"You, $name, are officially cool."@@ @@.player;"Is that a ruling?"@@ you ask. @@.jasper;"Yes, and it's final,"@@ he says. As you all laugh, art class feels exactly where you're supposed to be. <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 8">>\<</button>>

The door at the front of the room flings open, and the shift in energy is immediate. No more room for small talk or chatter, class is actually starting now. Ms. Delgado steps in with her usual calm, paint-splattered tote slung over one shoulder and a mug of coffee in one hand. Her boots click softly against the floor as she makes her way to the front table, setting her mug down and glancing out over the room. @@.girl;"Alright, artists,"@@ she says, voice warm but clear. @@.girl;"Let's bring it in."@@ The room settles. At your table, Vincent straightens immediately, pencil already in hand like he's about to be tested. Macy leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes bright with anticipation. Jasper slouches comfortably, rolling his shoulders like he's warming up for something. Ms. Delgado clasps her hands together. @@.girl;"Today we are starting with a warmup."@@ Vincent whispers, barely audible, @@.vincent;"I'm scared."@@ Macy gasps dramatically. @@.macy;"I'm excited."@@ Jasper grins. @@.jasper;"I'm both."@@ Ms. Delgado continues. @@.girl;"This one's simple, but it's important. You are going to draw your desk neighbors."@@ The reactions around the room vary. Some laugh, some nod, someone mutters a swear word under their breath. @@.vincent;"...Draw,"@@ he repeats quietly. @@.vincent;"Us?"@@ Macy turns toward him immediately. @@.macy;"Oh my God, yes. I'm going to capture your essence, Vincent."@@ Vincent pales. @@.vincent;"Please don't."@@ @@.jasper;"Relax, man,"@@ Jasper says, chuckling. @@.jasper;"Worst case, you get a cursed portrait."@@ @@.player;"And the best case?"@@ you ask. @@.jasper;"He becomes an anime yaoi twink."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"...Is that the best case?"@@ @@.jasper;"There are not a lot of good outcomes when it involves Macy,"@@ Jasper says, sighing. Ms. Delgado raises a hand slightly, already having anticipated the panic. @@.girl;"Before anyone spirals, this is not about realism. This is not a portrait assignment. This is not about accuracy."@@ Vincent seems a little relieved at that news. @@.girl;"Each drawing will be five minutes,"@@ she continues. @@.girl;"Each table has four people, so you'll do three drawings total. That's fifteen minutes."@@ Macy starts counting on her fingers. @@.macy;"So I get to draw all of you."@@ @@.vincent;"She's going to draw me?"@@ Vincent asks. @@.player;"Well, that's what Ms. Delgado said,"@@ you say. Ms. Delgado steps out from behind the front table and begins pacing slowly between rows. @@.girl;"I want you to focus on the vibes. Energy. Posture. Presence. That's what I'm looking for today."@@ She taps her temple lightly. @@.girl;"How does this person //feel// to you? How do they take up space? What stands out about them first?"@@ @@.jasper;"I'm gonna draw vibes so hard, man,"@@ Jasper murmurs. You snort quietly. Vincent glances between the three of you, voice low and nervous. @@.vincent;"I've never drawn people this fast before."@@ @@.macy;"Well, that's the point!"@@ Macy says cheerfully. @@.macy;"No time to overthink. Just vibes."@@ Ms. Delgado pauses near the middle of the room. @@.girl;"Stick figures are allowed. Exaggeration is encouraged. If all you capture is someone's mood, you've done your job."@@ She looks around, making brief eye contact with a few students. @@.girl;"This is a judgment-free exercise. Be kind, be curious, and please don't apologize for your drawings."@@ Vincent looks like he was about to. Jasper cracks his knuckles again. @@.jasper;"Okay, who are we starting with?"@@ Macy looks super excited, scanning the table like she's choosing her first victim. @@.macy;"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe."@@ Vincent squeaks softly. Ms. Delgado checks the clock on the wall, then claps her hands once. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"Pick who you're starting with."@@ The room stills, pencils hovering. @@.girl;"And... begin!"@@ <<set $temp to false>>\ <<set $temp1 to false>>\ <<set $temp2 to false>>\ <<button "Choose someone to draw first" "Day 23 - Choice">>\<</button>>

By the time the last timer runs out, the energy at the table feels completely different than when the exercise started. Pencils are down, papers are stacked. Vincent looks like he's just finished running a mental marathon, shoulders slumped but eyes bright. Jasper stretches his arms overhead with a satisfied sigh, like he's been waiting for this exact moment. You lean back in your chair, glancing over the scattered drawings, feeling a bit nervous about showing your art off. Then Macy starts vibrating. Not metaphorically, no. Actually fucking vibrating. She's bouncing slightly in her seat, hugging her sketchbook to her chest like it's physically restraining her from launching herself across the table. Her eyes are shining and her smile is feral. Ms. Delgado claps her hands once. @@.girl;"Alright, artists. Pencils down! We're going to spend a few minutes sharing at your tables. Just talk about what you drew, what you noticed, and what surprised you. No pressure."@@ Before she even finishes the sentence— @@.macy;"I'LL GO FIRST!"@@ Macy stands up, chair scraping loudly as she plants her hands on the table. Vincent flinches while Jasper laughs immediately, like he knew this was inevitable. @@.jasper;"Macy—"@@ Jasper starts. @@.macy;"No,"@@ she says firmly. @@.macy;"I have been waiting for this moment my entire life."@@ @@.player;"Hasn't it been fifteen minutes?"@@ you ask. Macy ignores you, instead deciding to flip open her sketchbook with a dramatic flair. She turns it around so all three of you can see. The paper catches the light, and for a split second, you're not prepared for what you're looking at. Because her art is actually really good. Like, shit, ''really'' good. Her anatomy, composition, perspective, everything is great. Whatever chaotic energy she has in conversation is somehow focused on the page. She points to the first drawing. @@.macy;"Okay. This is Jasper."@@ The person on the page barely resembles the real Jasper beyond the broad idea of him. This version is tall, lean, and handsome, with sharp eyes and a confident smirk. His clothes are fantasy-inspired, with a collared jacket, fancy belt, and expensive boots that have never known mud. He has one mechanical arm, gears, and glowing lines humming with power. @@.macy;"This is Jasper as the stoic warrior-engineer of the rebellion,"@@ Macy says reverently. Jasper squints at the page. @@.jasper;"Why am I hot?"@@ @@.macy;"Because you're the love interest,"@@ she replies instantly. @@.macy;"Obviously."@@ She flips to the next page. @@.macy;"Now, Vincent."@@ Vincent leans forward without realizing it. It's clear he's curious despite himself. This Vincent is ethereal. Soft but striking. He has long white hair which is tied back loosely, intelligent eyes behind elegant glasses, robes layered with arcane symbols and ancient text. He's holding a glowing book, magic spilling out of the pages. His expression is gentle, but deeply burdened. @@.macy;"This is Vincent,"@@ Macy continues. @@.macy;"He's the exiled scholar-mage who knows the truth about the world but is cursed with forbidden knowledge."@@ @@.vincent;"I-I look like I even cry beautifully,"@@ Vincent says, eyes wide. @@.macy;"You do,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"Constantly, in fact."@@ Jasper nods. @@.jasper;"Tragic."@@ She doesn't even pause before turning the page again. @@.macy;"And this,"@@ she announces, pointing dramatically, @@.macy;"is $name."@@ You blink. The character staring back at you is both unmistakably you and absolutely not you at the same time. You're taller, sharper, and have ''very'' intense eyes. You're dressed in simple, lavender robes. You're dressed simply and seem... boring, yet there's something unmistakably central about you. You're holding a strange artifact that's glowing faintly, like it doesn't fully belong to this world. @@.macy;"You are the protagonist,"@@ Macy says, voice dropping into something serious. @@.macy;"You're summoned from another world with no powers, but you're the only one who can activate the relic that can save everything."@@ If only she knew... Jasper whistles. @@.jasper;"Sounds like a classic."@@ Vincent swallows. Macy flips back and forth between the three pages rapidly, already deep in it. @@.macy;"So the plot begins with $name getting summoned. Jasper is assigned as his protector but pretends not to care. Vincent knows the prophecy but doesn't tell $name because he doesn't want him to get hurt."@@ She points at Jasper's drawing. @@.macy;"Jasper is emotionally unavailable."@@ Points at Vincent. @@.macy;"Vincent is emotionally devastated."@@ Then she points at you. @@.macy;"You are emotionally confused."@@ She beams. @@.macy;"It's a love triangle."@@ @@.jasper;"Of course it is,"@@ Jasper mutters, laughing. @@.macy;"They both fall in love with $name for different reasons,"@@ Macy continues, pacing slightly now. @@.macy;"Jasper admires your bravery and how you keep going even without any powers. Vincent falls in love with your kindness and how you listen."@@ <<if $vincentRomance > 9>>\ Vincent's face is fully red now. <<else>>\ Vincent's face holds an expression of confusion. <</if>>\ @@.macy;"There's angst, there's betrayal, there's even a scene where you almost die and they both think it's their fault!"@@ Macy exclaims, clearly hyped. @@.macy;"Not to mention the hand-holding. There is meaningful hand-holding."@@ She finally stops, hugging her sketchbook again like she's finished the performance of a lifetime. @@.macy;"And that,"@@ she says proudly, @@.macy;"is my boys' love isekai epic."@@ The table is quiet for a moment, as everyone's stunned. Macy grins at you, vibrating once more, clearly satisfied as she finishes up. <<button "What the fuck?" "Day 23 - 10">>\<</button>>

<<if $temp is false>>\ <<button "Draw Jasper" "Day 23 - Jasper 1">>\<<set $temp to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_temp" "Draw Jasper" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp1 is false>>\ <<button "Draw Macy" "Day 23 - Macy 1">>\<<set $temp1 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_temp1" "Draw Macy" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp2 is false>>\ <<button "Draw Vincent" "Day 23 - Vincent 1">>\<<set $temp2 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_temp2" "Draw Vincent" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp is true and $temp1 is true and $temp2 is true>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 9">><</button>> <</if>>\

You let your pencil hover above the page for a long moment, like it's waiting for permission. Jasper, meanwhile, is doing absolutely nothing to make this easier for you. He's leaning back in his chair in a way that feels completely natural. One arm is hooked over the back, and the other is loosely holding his pencil like he might start doodling at any second. His pink button-up is half untucked, sleeves rolled unevenly, and there's a very obvious splatter of dried paint along the hem that looks like it's been there for weeks. Probably longer. It's either not accidental, or it was, and he decided to keep it. You notice the little things the longer you look. The way his weight shifts when he laughs, like his whole body commits to it. The way his sneakers are a mess of color, like a walking art crime scene. The pen tucked into his pocket. The relaxed confidence of someone who's never quite felt the need to shrink himself. You guess you stared a little //too// much, as he notices. @@.jasper;"...You good?"@@ Jasper asks, amused. @@.jasper;"Or am I supposed to strike a pose?"@@ @@.player;"Don't move,"@@ you say automatically. He immediately strikes the worst pose imaginable, one hand dramatically on his hip, chin lifted like he's on the runway. @@.jasper;"Like this?"@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you laugh. @@.player;"Please don't."@@ He grins wider and drops back into his chair. @@.jasper;"Okay, okay. I'll behave. Mostly."@@ @@.player;"You're hard to draw, Jasper,"@@ you say, glancing down at your paper, then back at him again. @@.jasper;"That's what they all say,"@@ he replies solemnly. @@.player;"I mean it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You've got... a lot going on."@@ He looks pleased by that. @@.jasper;"Energy?"@@ @@.player;"Too much,"@@ you deadpan. @@.jasper;"Honestly? That's fair,"@@ he says, chuckling. You take another second, just observing the guy for a second. Jasper isn't stiff like Vincent, or vibrating with excitement like Macy. He's just solid. The table would definitely feel quieter without him. @@.jasper;"So what vibe are you going for?"@@ he asks, peering at the blank page. @@.jasper;"Be honest."@@ @@.player;"I haven't decided yet."@@ @@.jasper;"That's dangerous,"@@ he says. @@.jasper;"That's how you end up drawing my worst traits."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Such as?"@@ @@.jasper;"My nose,"@@ he says immediately. @@.jasper;"It's massive."@@ You snort. @@.player;"I wasn't going to say anything."@@ @@.jasper;"But you were thinking it,"@@ he accuses, pointing at you. @@.player;"To be fair, it //is// pretty big."@@ He laughs again, unbothered. @@.jasper;"Do it, then. Exaggerate it. Make it iconic."@@ You roll your pencil between your fingers, finally lowering your gaze to the page. The paper feels less intimidating now, like Jasper's presence has already filled some of it now. Alright. You've got a few minutes left. No pressure, just vibes. <<button "Draw him as a giant mecha" "Day 23 - Jasper 2">>\<<set $d23jasper to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D23_jasper" "Draw him as a giant mecha" "story">><</button>> <<button "Focus on his humongous nose" "Day 23 - Jasper 2">>\<<set $d23jasper to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D23_jasper" "Focus on his humongous nose" "story">><</button>> <<button "Make him a muscular beast" "Day 23 - Jasper 2">>\<<set $d23jasper to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D23_jasper" "Make him a muscular beast" "story">><</button>>

<<set $ashading to Math.clamp($ashading + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d23jasper is 0>>\ You decide to fully commit to the worst possible idea. Mecha. You lower your pencil to the page and immediately draw a big, stupid rectangle for the torso. No hesitation or sketching. Just a big fucking robot chest. From there, everything snowballs in the exact way bad ideas always seem to do. You give it enormous shoulders. Like, ones that are completely impractical. The kind that would absolutely get stuck. Then it's time for the arms. You make them thick and blocky, ending them in hands that are more like mittens than fingers because you do not have the time to draw a hand. You add legs next, wide and solid, planted like this thing weighs a thousand tons and has never skipped leg day. You pause for half a second. @@.player;"...Okay,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Needs more Jasper."@@ You glance up at him again. He's still leaning back, totally relaxed, talking to Macy while spinning his pencil between his fingers. He's confident and unbothered. You look back down and add a cockpit right in the middle of the robot's chest. A little window. Inside it, you scribble a tiny stick-figure Jasper with a huge grin. And, just because you can't resist, an exaggerated nose. Just slightly too big. Iconic. Then you give the robot paint splatters. Not realistic ones, of course. Just chaotic blobs of color shading around the legs and torso. You add a pen holster on the side and label it ART CANNON. You snort quietly to yourself. There's no time to make it good. Lines overlap, the proportions make no sense, and one arm is clearly far longer than the other. The head, if it even counts as a head, is just a box with glowing eyes and a dumb smile. You add one last detail: a massive foot stepping forward, crushing someone underneath it. You don't draw who it is, leaving it a mystery. You lean back just as the time runs out. You did enough. It truly looks like it was drawn by someone who had five minutes and a dream. To you, though? It's perfection. <<elseif $d23jasper is 1>>\ You stare at the page for a second, then back at Jasper, then back at the page. Your pencil lowers with a sense of inevitability, almost on its own. You start with the nose. Not on purpose, of course. It just kinda happens. You draw a nose that is immediately, undeniably too big. Like it takes up the entire center of the page before you've even committed to a head. You try to scale it back by adding a jawline, but the nose remains dominant and impossible to ignore. You pause, tilt your head, and realize you can't back out now. So you decide to instead lean into it. You exaggerate the bridge even further, giving it confidence. You add nostrils with far too much care, shading them in. The rest of the face gets sketched in around it as an afterthought. The eyes are placed way too far apart because the nose demands space, and you add a mouth that's only there to support the vibe. You add in hair, shoulders, and his torso. None of it is very detailed. Why? Because none of it matters. The nose is doing all the work. You refine it a little more by adding details. A shadow underneath and a highlight along the curve. It's not realistic, exactly. But it //is// expressive. The kind of nose that belongs to someone who laughs loudly and takes up space and doesn't dare apologize for it. You glance up briefly at your muse just to recalibrate, then look back down and add a tiny note next to the drawing. //strong nose energy// You don't know why, but there's something deeply satisfying about it. You don't try to fix the proportions. You don't erase anything. You just add one last line for emphasis on the nose and lift your pencil. Yeah. That's perfect. <<elseif $d23jasper is 2>>\ You stare at the page for a second, then back at Jasper. Then you look back down, grip your pencil a little tighter, and make a firm decision that you may or may not regret. You start by drawing muscle. So. Much. Muscle. You sketch a massive shoulder first (it is ''way'' too big), then another one to match it. The torso follows, basically a barrel, with exaggerated lines suggesting pure strength. This is not a human chest. This is a fucking wall. You add arms next, thick and corded, with forearms the size of tree trunks. Hands that look like they could crush boulders. Maybe, on an exceptionally good day, he could open that stubborn pickle jar that's been fermenting in the pantry for years now. You pause briefly, and consider what you're doing. Should you make it more realistic? Would Jasper be offended? Does this drawing even look human? Eh. Who cares. You discard those thoughts. You add legs that look like they belong to some mythological creature. Thick thighs, heavy calves, feet planted. You don't bother with knees. Knees are for cowards, not men. Now for the head. You give it a vaguely Jasper-shaped face, but only just. The jaw is too square and the brow is too heavy, but you don't care. The eyes are small and intense, like this creature sees everything and judges silently. You give it a mane instead of normal hair, spiking out in every direction. You hesitate for half a second before adding claws. They're just for flavor. You step back mentally and think to yourself that while it's good, it could use more beast. So you add fur along the shoulders and spine. Not realistic fur, you don't have the time for that, just jagged strokes that imply this thing is a monster. You scribble in veins on the arms for dramatic effect. Maybe this thing lives in the mountains and guards ancient ruins. It's ridiculous, and not very accurate, but it //is// fun. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - Choice">>\<</button>>

You shift your attention to Macy, and immediately regret it. There is a ''lot'' happening with her. She's perched in her chair sideways, one knee tucked in, oversized beige hoodie bunching around her frame. It's two sizes too big, and you're not sure if that's on purpose or not. The sleeves swallow her hands, but she keeps pushing them up anyway, only for them to slide right back down. Her pink hair is pulled into a messy bun, secured with a couple of mismatched hairpins that absolutely do not match and clearly weren't meant to. A few strands have escaped, making her look disheveled in a cute way. She's got a crossbody bag slung across her chest, and there are two small plushies hanging from it. Some anime characters who you assume are the gay vampire and gay servant. She fidgets with it constantly, spinning it around her fingers as she talks. And she does talk. Constantly, in fact. @@.macy;"So if you //really// think about it,"@@ Macy is saying, already mid-thought when you look over, @@.macy;"yaoi is just character studies with better emotional stakes."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Is it?"@@ @@.macy;"It absolutely is,"@@ she states. @@.macy;"Next question."@@ She catches you watching her and grins. @@.macy;"Oh my God, $name, are you drawing me?"@@ @@.player;"I'm considering it,"@@ you say carefully. Her eyes light up in a way that should probably be illegal under California state law. @@.macy;"YES. Okay, listen. Important things you need to know about me."@@ She holds up one finger. @@.macy;"I love boys' love. Like. A lot."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I've gathered,"@@ you murmur. @@.macy;"Second,"@@ she continues, undeterred, @@.macy;"I draw anime guys exclusively. Tragic ones. Pretty ones. Vampire ones. Sometimes all three at once."@@ @@.player;"Of course you do."@@ @@.macy;"And third,"@@ she says, leaning in closer, lowering her voice like she's sharing some deep secret, @@.macy;"if you make me look cool, I will defend you with my life."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"No pressure, then."@@ She sits back, striking what she clearly thinks is a pose. Her chin is tilted slightly, eyes half-lidded, one sleeve dramatically covering her hand. It lasts about three seconds before she breaks it herself. @@.macy;"Wait,"@@ she says. @@.macy;"Do I look better mysterious or feral?"@@ @@.player;"...Feral?"@@ She nods seriously. @@.macy;"Good choice."@@ You take another moment to really look at her now that you're paying attention. There's a lot of nervous energy under the excitement. She bounces slightly in her seat with a big smile. She fills silence because she doesn't like it sitting too long. She's expressive in a way that feels honest, even when she's being ridiculous. @@.macy;"Are you going to make me hot?"@@ she asks suddenly. @@.player;"That depends,"@@ you say. @@.player;"What's your definition of hot?"@@ @@.macy;"Anime."@@ @@.player;"Understandable."@@ She laughs, then finally stills a little, watching you expectantly. @@.macy;"Okay. I'm ready. Do your worst."@@ You look down at your paper and realize there are about a dozen directions you could take this, and none of them feel particularly serious. Perfect. <<button "Make her an anime protagonist" "Day 23 - Macy 2">>\<<set $d23macy to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D23_macy" "Make her an anime protagonist" "story">><</button>> <<button "Yaoi gremlin yaoi gremlin" "Day 23 - Macy 2">>\<<set $d23macy to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D23_macy" "Yaoi gremlin yaoi gremlin" "story">><</button>> <<button "Macy is a cute little disaster" "Day 23 - Macy 2">>\<<set $d23macy to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D23_macy" "Macy is a cute little disaster" "story">><</button>>

<<set $alinework to Math.clamp($alinework + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d23macy is 0>>\ You glance at the blank page, then back at Macy. At the oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, the constant motion, and the unapologetic enthusiasm. Yeah. She gives off anime protagonist energy. You lower your pencil and start with the head. Big eyes come next, huge, sparkly, and full of optimism. You try your best to give them the classic anime shine. The nose and mouth are, of course, just a line. That's how anime goes. Hair next. You exaggerate the fluff and make it pink as can be. You add a few loose strands. Both because it's accurate and because anime law requires at least three rebellious hair pieces. Then the outfit. You draw a classic school uniform. Short-sleeved sailor-style top, oversized bow at the collar, pleated skirt at the waist. The proportions are off, you're not too good of an artist. The skirt is a little messed up and the legs are so long that she looks kinda scary. You ignore that though, adding knee-high socks and simple sneakers. Important details come last. You draw her clutching a stack of yaoi manga to her chest, arms wrapped around it like it's her life's purpose. Little hearts float around her. You draw lines to suggest that she's in motion, probably dashing down the street with a toast in her mouth. You hesitate, then add a tiny caption in the corner of the page: Episode 1: She Has Too Many Feelings. The drawing's quality is questionable, to say the least, but the energy is there. Perfect. <<elseif $d23macy is 1>>\ You don't have to look at the blank page for long before coming to a terrible decision. You are not going to draw a human. You start with a small, chaotic shape. Short, squat, and only vaguely humanoid. The head is too big for the body. On purpose, of course. You give it pointy little ears. Not animal ears or elf ears, not exactly. Just... very gremlin. The kind that imply mischief and zero respect for social norms. You sketch huge eyes next. Way too big. Sparkly in a way that suggests obsession. They take up most of the face, leaving just enough room for a sharp little nose and an evil grin. You give the grin tiny fangs, enough to show that this is a creature. You add hair next, making it messy and aggressively pink. It sticks out in uneven tufts like it lost a fight. A couple of hairpins float somewhere in the mess, defying gravity. The body comes together quickly. Tiny torso. Oversized hoodie that looks like it's eating gremlin Macy alive. Sleeves way too long, dragging on the ground. You draw little clawed hands poking out, clutching a stack of books. You label them as Yaoi 1, Yaoi 2, Yaoi 3. You snort quietly and keep going. You make the gremlin have bent knees and feet planted wide. behind it, you scribble chaotic lines with random decorations here and there. You add a speech bubble that says "what if they HOLD HANDS?" It's clearly something you drew in under five minutes with zero shame, and that's what gives it its charm. What remains after is a powerful, dangerous, terminally online yaoi gremlin. Perfect. <<elseif $d23macy is 2>>\ You look at the page, then back at Macy. She's currently slouched in her chair, bag charms clacking every time she moves her arm while drawing. There's a certain energy to her that makes her feel less like a person and more like a mess that's barely holding its shape. That's it. You lower your pencil and start with a blob. Not a circle. Not a head, but a soft puddle shape. Something that //used// to be solid and has since given up. From the top of the blob, you add a tiny, droopy head melting right back into the body. The cheeks are squished and the expression strange. You give her huge, watery eyes. They're round, sparkly, and also a little unfocused. You try and make sure she looks like she's thinking about seventeen different things at once. One eye is slighty lower than the other. On purpose, of course. You add a tiny mouth that's curved up in a smile. Hair comes next. A messy pink puff that looks like it's sliding off her head. You sketch in a bun that's barely holding together, strands escaping left and right, hairpins floating uselessly in the chaos. They tried their best, sure, but they couldn't handle the intensity of Macy's personality. The hoodie is essential. You draw it oversized to the extreme, draped over the blob more like a blanket than a hoodie. The sleeves melt directly into the puddle, hands nowhere to be seen. You add the crossbody strap slipping across the blob, bag halfway submerged. You pause, then add details. Tiny hearts drifting up around her. Little stress lines. A small puddle ripple effect underneath, like she's slowly liquefying. Off to the side, you scribble a few barely legible words: //too much emotion// //send help// You tilt your head, considering, then add one last touch. A single yaoi manga floating just above the blob. The drawing is barely human, but it is, unmistakably, Macy. Perfect. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - Choice">>\<</button>>

<<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $bra to 69>>\ <<set $glasses to false>>\ The moonlight spills through the half-open blinds, lightly painting your naked body as you pause before the mirror in your bedroom. You were just heading to take a shower and get clean before moving on with your day, but something catches you. Makes you stop and makes you look. //Oh.// The reflection staring back is soft, delicate, and feminine in a way that sends a shock straight to your core. Your hips have rounded out, your waist now nips in, and your skin is smooth. A plane of soft perfection, begging to be touched. And your chest... <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ You bite your lips, trailing your fingers up your stomach, brushing over your chest. There's nothing there, not yet, but the sight of your pink nipples pebbling under the attention is erotic enough. <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ You bite your lips, trailing your fingers up your stomach, brushing over the slight swell of your breasts. They're not big, not yet, but the sight of your pink nipples pebbling under the attention is erotic enough. <<elseif $breastsProg is 3>>\ You bite your lips, trailing your fingers up your stomach, brushing over the swell of your breasts. They're not big, not yet, but they're definitely not small either. The roundness of your chest and the sight of your pink nipples pebbling under the attention is ''so'' damn erotic. <<elseif $breastsProg is 4>>\ You bite your lips, trailing your fingers up your stomach, brushing over the significant swell of your breasts. They've gotten really damn big after Sunday, and you can feel it bounce with every movement. The roundness of your chest and the sight of your pink nipples pebbling under the attention is ''so'' fucking erotic. <</if>>\ @@.player;"God..."@@ Your breath hitches as your gaze drifts lower. Between your thighs, your penis is already stirring, half-hard just from looking at yourself. You're pretty. You're really, ''really'' pretty. The thought curls hot in your stomach. You, $name Yoon, are a cute girl now. A breathtaking girl with smooth skin, a slender body, and a cute face. Your flushed cock twitches against your thigh as you admire yourself. Your fingers twitch. You //could// step away and shower like you planned to. Be the responsible, good little girl you should be. But the way the light catches on your collarbones, the way your hair falls, and the way your thighs press together make you so needy. What do you do? <<button "Masturbate" "Day 23 - Masturbation 2">>\<<set $d23masturbate to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_masturbate" "Masturbate" "story">><</button>> <<button "Maybe another time" "Day 23 - 49">>\<<set $d23masturbate to false>>\<<trackChoice "D23_masturbate" "Maybe another time" "story">><</button>>

<<set $mirrormasturbationCG to true>>\ <<set $mirrormasturbationCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $mirrormasturbationCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<set $mirrormasturbationCGpp to $genitalsProg>>\ <<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-mirror-masturbation"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirror2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1arm1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairs.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairs.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairm.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairl.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1backmediumhair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1backlonghair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1handbefore.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1avgpp.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1smallpp.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1tinypp.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1face.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestflat.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestflat.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestsmall.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestlarge.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairloose.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairloose.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1mouthbefore.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1eyes2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ You are just way too charming not to touch. With a soft //thump//, you sink to the floor in front of the mirror, your legs spreading wide as you settle onto the hardwood floor. At first, it feels awkward. It really does. You feel vulnerable and exposed in front of the mirror, completely naked and looking at yourself. But shit, you can't deny the thrill that races through you as you take in your new form. The girl in the reflection is beautiful. The waist dips in just right, your hips flare out in a way that makes the smooth plane of your stomach look even softer. Your thighs press together instinctively, but you force them apart. Just a little. Just enough to see the way the light catches on the hairless skin of your inner legs. @@.player;"Fuck..."@@ Your breath comes quicker. You're basically transfixed, watching as your nipples stiffen under your own gaze. The pink buds get harder and harder, as if begging to be touched. Your collarbones are sharp, your neck long and pale. God, you look elegant. Like a true beauty, like some kind of painting, like a ''fantasy''. At the very least, you were many a person's wet dream. Your gaze drops lower. Between your thighs, already filling out, is your penis. The shaft twitches against your stomach as you look at it getting hard. Your fingers twitch at your sides, wanting to touch, but you don't. Not yet. You have to be patient. Your penis bobs slightly as you shift, the tip glistening with precum already. Your toned stomach flutters with each shaky breath. You're so fucking pretty. And you're dripping, your cock throbbing just from the sight of yourself. @@.player;"Nngh..."@@ You bite your lip to stop the pathetic, horny noise. Be a good girl, $name. Be quiet. Your fingers trail up the delicate slope of your tummy next, tracing the soft dip of your belly button. When did this happen? When did your belly become so smooth, so feminine? Your tummy basically begs to be kissed, as it rises and falls with each quickening breath. You can't help but squeeze it. Just lightly, of course. Watching the way the flesh yields under your fingers. There's not much to even grab, just a little baby fat, but what's there is soft. Softer than you ever imagined you could be. You pinch one perfectly rosy pink nipple experimentally. The sharp jolt of pleasure makes your back arch, a whimper slipping past your lips. @@.player;"S-sensitive!"@@ You do it again, rolling the bud between your fingers, watching in the mirror as your reflection squirms. Your thighs press together only to part again, needy. Your long, smooth, shapely legs tremble. They would look perfect in stockings or in lace, wrapped around someone's waist. @@.player;"Oh my God!"@@ The thought alone makes your penis throb, your dick fully hard now. You're basically dripping, your arousal slick between your thighs and your entire body burning with the need to touch. You can't resist anymore. <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - Masturbation 3">><</button>>

<<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-mirror-masturbation"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirror2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1arm2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairs.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairs.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairm.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairl.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1breath.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1backmediumhair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1backlonghair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1handbefore.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1avgpphand.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1smallpphand.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1tinypphand.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1face.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestflat.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestflat.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestsmall.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestlarge.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairloose.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairloose.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1mouthbefore.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1eyes2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1breath.png" }, ]>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ Your fingers finally close around your penis, which is basically aching for attention, and a shudder wracks your entire body. That single touch is ''electric'', almost too much after all that teasing. You start slow, with feather-light strokes up and down your length. You watch in the mirror as your reflection melts, lips parting in a silent gasp. @@.player;"Mmmnn... so pretty..."@@ you murmur to yourself, voice breathy and high. Your grip tightens slightly, thumb swiping over the leaking tip, spreading slickness down the entire shaft. The slide is perfect, smooth and wet, and your hips jerk automatically. You imagine it. Imagine being //her//. Some cute, soft, dolled-up thing. Knees pressed together as you touch yourself, panties pushed to the side, little penis straining against the lace. @@.player;"Ah!"@@ The fantasy makes your strokes quicker, your breath coming in shallow pants. The image comes vividly to you. Painted nails, full makeup, perfect hair, your tits bouncing as you fuck. @@.player;"F-feels too good...!"@@ Another pulse of heat gets sent straight to your penis, your hips rocking into your fist as you imagine someone watching you, praising you, telling you how beautiful and perfect you look as a girl. @@.player;"Hah... hah... m-more..."@@ You're not close yet, but you will be soon enough. For now, you decide to simply savor it. The way your body moves, the way your skin flushes, the way your penis throbs in your grip. You were made for this. <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - Masturbation 4">><</button>>

<<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-mirror-masturbation"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirror2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1arm2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairs.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairs.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairm.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1hairl.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody1breath.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1backmediumhair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1backlonghair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1handbefore.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1avgpphand.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1smallpphand.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1tinypphand.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1face.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestflat.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestflat.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestsmall.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1chestlarge.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairloose.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sidehairloose.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1mouthbefore.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1eyes1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1fronthairmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1breath.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody1sweat.png" } ]>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ Your movements become erratic, your breath hitching as you feel the orgasm building deep inside you. Your hips are stuttering for more. You're desperate to finish, you're desperate to cum, but you force yourself to slow for just a moment and look. Look at your face. Your cheeks are flushed pink, your mouth is slightly gaped open, your lips are glossy with spit, and your eyes are glazed over. @@.player;"Ohmygodimsoclose!"@@ You can feel it. The warmth spreading through your limbs, the tension winding tighter, your penis begging for release. Your thighs tremble, your toes curl, and you're basically falling apart in front of yourself right now. A whine catches in your throat, your thumb rubbing frantic circles around your leaky tip. So close, so close, ''so fucking close''. Your perfect, perfect face twisted in pleasure. @@.player;"Hah! I'm g-g-gonna!"@@ You're right there. <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - Masturbation 5">><</button>>

<<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-mirror-masturbation"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirror1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2backshorthair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2backshorthair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2backmediumhair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2backmediumhair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2sweat.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2chestflat.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2chestflat.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2chestsmall.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2chestmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2chestlarge.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2avgpp.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2smallpp.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2tinypp.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2face.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2sidehair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2sidehair.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2eyes.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2fronthairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2fronthairshort.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2fronthairmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2fronthairmedium.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/mirrorbody2orgasmfx.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2chest.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2base.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2hairs.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2hairs.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2hairm.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2hairl.png", "condition": $mirrormasturbationCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/mirrorMasturbation/realbody2orgasmfx.png" } ]>>\ \ <div class="cgorgasm">\ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ <img src="img/additional/white.png" class="fadeout"> </div>\ The tension snaps. A broken cry tears from your throat as your back arches violently, both hands slapping back against the floor for support as pure pleasure detonates through you. Thick ropes of cum streak across your tummy, your chest, your trembling thighs, and even the mirror as wave after wave of white-hot ecstasy crashes over you. @@.player;"F-fuck! Holy shit! Ah! AH!"@@ Your vision whites out, your entire body convulsing as the orgasm rips through you, deep and hard. Your hips jerk erratically, not knowing what to do either, making you feel good as you spill and spill, your cute face twisted in bliss. @@.player;"Nnngh! S'too much!"@@ You collapse backward, boneless, your arms barely catching you as you slump against the floor, your chest heaving. Cum drips down your skin, sticky and warm, but you're too wrecked to give a shit. Your limbs occasionally twitch, still trembling with aftershocks. @@.player;"Hah.... hah... Holy shit..."@@ You did that. You made yourself feel this good to the sight of your own body. That was ''perfect''. <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - Masturbation 6">><</button>>

Your chest still heaves as you come down from the high, limbs loose and tingling. But then your gaze catches on the mirror again. There, amidst the fog of your breath and the blur of pleasure, a single streak of white glistens where your release had spattered against the glass. Oh my. You swallow hard, your spent penis twitching weakly at the sight. You shouldn't. You so, so shouldn't. But with shaky hands, you push yourself up just enough to lean forward, your tongue darting out to lick. The taste bursts over your tongue. It's a bit salty and a bit sweet, but most importantly, it's yours. A shiver wracks your spine, your lips stained with it now, your eyes half-lidded and dark with hunger. @@.player;"Hnng... good,"@@ you murmur, voice wrecked, before licking again. It's longer this time, cleaning the mirror with slow drags of your tongue. It's filthy, but in the best way. You watch yourself as you swallow, your throat bobbing and your lashes fluttering. After all, you're just a pretty girl, drinking down her own mess. Finally, with a shaky exhale, you pull back. Your legs tremble as you rise, your body aching and your skin sticky. @@.player;"Shower,"@@ you mumble. @@.player;"Need to... shower."@@ But even as you stumble toward the bathroom, you catch one last glimpse in the mirror and smile. Maybe you'll do this again sometime. <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 49">><</button>>

<<set $temp4 to $temp4 + 1>>\ Macy drags you toward a wall, and you have to actually speed-walk to keep up with her energy. The store shifts into a louder, more chaotic vibe over here. The colors are brighter, the section is larger, and there are a ton of characters you recognize. It's almost like the owner knows exactly what kind of people visit this kind of store, and came up with a strategy to get them trapped staring for ten minutes straight. @@.jasper;"Okay, this is definitely the weeb wall,"@@ Jasper says. @@.macy;"Well, it //is// the anime section,"@@ Macy says. She plants both hands on her hips and looks it over with an intense glare. @@.macy;"And before you say anything, it's //mostly// lame."@@ @@.vincent;"Mostly?"@@ Vincent asks. @@.vincent;"That's a strong word considering you're the one who brought us here."@@ Macy rolls her eyes. @@.macy;"I didn't come here because I like it. I came here because it's a cultural landmark. Like an art museum! Except the art is all marketable and everyone there is annoying and hasn't showered."@@ @@.jasper;"You're a bigger anime fan than the unwashed weeb you're describing,"@@ Jasper comments. @@.macy;"Shut up."@@ The first pin you see is instantly recognizable. There's a cute blonde girl with a big blue hoodie, holding a massive Sovhaj like it's her emotional support creature. @@.macy;"Okay, this one isn't too lame,"@@ Macy says, making a noise of approval. @@.macy;"Brisket is actually important."@@ Vincent peers at it, eyes narrowing. @@.vincent;"Her name is Brisket?"@@ @@.jasper;"Why's her name Brisket?"@@ Jasper asks. @@.macy;"'Cause she's from Texas, duh,"@@ Macy says without hesitation. @@.player;"That cannot be the real reason,"@@ you state. @@.macy;"Well, it's the reason in my heart,"@@ Macy says, completely serious. @@.macy;"Anyway, Brisket is from this random fighting game. Like, a fighting game that people claim to play, but most of her fans have never touched the game in their damn lives."@@ @@.vincent;"Then why are they fans?"@@ Vincent asks, befuddled. @@.macy;"Because she's iconic!"@@ Macy says, grinning. The three of you keep staring. @@.macy;"Okay, fine, it's also because she's trans."@@ @@.jasper;"Ohhh,"@@ Jasper lets out, like a puzzle piece just snapped into place. @@.jasper;"Okay, that tracks."@@ @@.vincent;"Wait,"@@ Vincent says, holding a hand up. @@.vincent;"How do people know she's trans if they haven't played the game?"@@ Macy shrugs. @@.macy;"The internet. Also the character is pretty open about it in the story. And she just became this... symbol? Like, people latched onto her the same way they did with Sovhaj."@@ You look at the massive shark plush on the pin. @@.player;"Sovhaj is the shark people went crazy over, right?"@@ @@.macy;"Yeah, the trans community basically adopted Sovhaj and Brisket,"@@ Macy says, sounding almost reverent. @@.macy;"It's like... two of their unofficial mascots now. Everyone posts it. Everyone buys it. Everyone is emotionally attached to it. It's a whole thing, you're not online enough to know."@@ @@.vincent;"That's kind of sweet,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"Liked a shared symbol for solidarity. It's harmless and cute."@@ @@.jasper;"Well, I personally find it funny that the trans mascot is a sleepy shark,"@@ Jasper says, grinning. @@.jasper;"Like, yeah. That feels about right for those sleepyheads."@@ @@.macy;"Be respectful, Jasper,"@@ Macy says. @@.jasper;"I am being respectful,"@@ Jasper says, frowning. @@.jasper;"I respect the shark and the girl and the trans community."@@ Vincent keeps looking at the pin with this interested expression, and you can tell he's genuinely engaged. @@.vincent;"What's the fighting game called?"@@ Macy waves a hand vaguely. @@.macy;"I forgot. Gritty Grind? Grunge Gospel? I don't fricking know. The point is Brisket escaped the game and became The Internet's daughter."@@ @@.jasper;"I love how you don't even know the title of the game she's from yet have a full dissertation on why she matters,"@@ Jasper says, snorting. You keep moving and the next pin that catches your eye is a completely different vibe. It's a calm-looking elf girl with long white hair. She's wearing fancy clothes and looks like she's thinking about something sad and beautiful at the same time. Macy stares at it and visibly struggles. It's clear she wants to say something mean but is failing. @@.macy;"Ugh."@@ @@.vincent;"You like it,"@@ Vincent says. @@.macy;"I don't //like// it,"@@ Macy says immediately, which makes it obvious she likes it. @@.macy;"I just... recognize that it's objecitvely good."@@ @@.jasper;"Wait, you've watched Frayen?"@@ Jasper asks, eyes lighting up. @@.jasper;"You told me you didn't."@@ @@.macy;"I've //seen// it,"@@ Macy says, looking offended. @@.vincent;"Well, I've watched it,"@@ Vincent comments. @@.vincent;"It's really well done. The pacing is slower but in a very deliberate way. I like how it focuses on time and memory and regrets. It's very interesting."@@ @@.jasper;"Yeah, and it's not trying to be flashy for the most part,"@@ Jasper says, nodding. @@.jasper;"It's just quiet in a comforting way."@@ @@.macy;"It's also het,"@@ Macy says, making a disgusted face. Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"Het."@@ @@.macy;"Straight people in my anime,"@@ Macy whines, wiping a fake tear from her eye. @@.jasper;"Oh my God,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"When is this phase ending?"@@ @@.macy;"I'm not saying it's a crime!"@@ Macy insists, even though she's fully saying it like it's a crime. @@.macy;"I'm just saying... would it have killed them to make it gay?"@@ @@.vincent;"There are still strong emotional bonds,"@@ Vincent says calmly. @@.vincent;"Not everything has to be romantic between two men to matter."@@ @@.macy;"You'd get jumped on my Discord group chat,"@@ Macy murmurs. The last two pins are from HonShin Zero, a gacha game that's been blowing up lately. One is of Firefly, a girl with light hair and a cute little green headband. The other is Cerene, with pink hair and a white dress. @@.macy;"Man, HonShin Zero is a crime,"@@ Macy says, looking frustrated. @@.jasper;"It's fun,"@@ Jasper says. Vincent nods like he's trying to be fair. @@.vincent;"It's definitely designed to keep people playing and spending money. But the character designs are objectively very strong. They know exactly how to make someone want a character."@@ @@.macy;"They'd be a perfect ship if they were both guys,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"They would be so gay together. Ugh."@@ @@.vincent;"Their relationship could be just as meaningful without it being romantic or gay,"@@ Vincent adds. @@.macy;"Vincent, Vinny, Vintober. I adore you, but you are not stopping me from wanting them to be gay."@@ @@.jasper;"She's only got this one setting,"@@ Jasper says, elbowing you lightly. You snort. @@.player;"Trust me, I can tell."@@ Vincent looks at the pins with a serious expression, analyzing the design choices. @@.vincent;"HonShin Zero is interesting because it blends a lot of genre aesthetics. You have science-fantasy, normal fantasy, and neo-futurism all in one game. They contrast yet work together so well at the same time."@@ @@.macy;"I agree, which is why Firefly and Cerene should be boyfriends."@@ @@.jasper;"You mean girlfriends,"@@ Jasper corrects helpfully. @@.macy;"That's not my brand."@@ @@.vincent;"How consistent of you,"@@ Vincent says, sighing like he's accepted this. You look back at the lineup. Brisket with her Sovhaj, Frayen looking like she's contemplating something meaningful, the HonShin Zero duo looking like they both have massive fandoms. @@.macy;"Okay, choose one,"@@ Macy says, as if this is a life-changing decision. Jasper adds, @@.jasper;"And choose wisely, because Macy will judge you no matter what."@@ @@.vincent;"Ignore Macy and pick whichever one you actually like,"@@ Vincent says, the only one who isn't threatening. @@.vincent;"The point is you'll be the one wearing it."@@ You stare at the four pins. <<button "Brisket" "Day 23 - Pin (Anime) 2">>\<<set $d23anime to 0>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "bridget">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "bridget" $temp4-1>>\<</button>> <<button "Frayen" "Day 23 - Pin (Anime) 2">>\<<set $d23anime to 1>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "frieren">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "frieren" $temp4-1>>\<</button>> <<button "Firefly" "Day 23 - Pin (Anime) 2">>\<<set $d23anime to 2>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "firefly">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "firefly" $temp4-1>>\<</button>> <<button "Cerene" "Day 23 - Pin (Anime) 2">>\<<set $d23anime to 3>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "cerene">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "cerene" $temp4-1>>\<</button>>

<<if $d23anime is 0>>\ You hover over the little cluster for a second, your eyes bouncing between the four pins. The one that keeps grabbing your attention, though, is the first one. It's just hard to ignore, to be honest. Brisket holding the Sovhaj looks like she belongs on someone's backpack. So you reach out and lift the Brisket pin off the peg. @@.player;"This one,"@@ you say. Macy's face twists. @@.macy;"Ugh."@@ Jasper immediately laughs. @@.jasper;"Why do you say 'ugh' like you're not the one who just gave us a TED Talk about her."@@ @@.macy;"I mean, I respect her cultural impact,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"But I don't want her on $name's backpack."@@ @@.vincent;"It's a good choice, though,"@@ Vincent says, expression way too gentle for something so dumb as backpack pins. @@.vincent;"The art is amazing, the colors especially. And Sovhaj makes it all so... cozy."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"Cozy?"@@ Vincent nods, slightly embarrassed but still committing. @@.vincent;"Yeah. Like, it reads as comfort. People latch onto symbols like that for a reason."@@ Macy points at you. @@.macy;"Fine, you're allowed to get it, but you better not buy an actual Sovhaj plushie!"@@ @@.jasper;"$name, the next time you need furniture, go get a Sovhaj while you're at it,"@@ Jasper whispers loudly. @@.jasper;"I think it would be really funny if $name became a Brisket stan and started caling her 'mother.'"@@ You grimace. @@.player;"Why the hell would you say that?"@@ Vincent laughs. @@.vincent;"It's kind of funny how fandoms work though, no? A character from a random game most people have never played turns out to be trans and suddenly they're a mascot for an entire community."@@ @@.jasper;"Vincent, you'd get destroyed in competitive games,"@@ Jasper says out of the blue. Vincent pauses, considers the words, and realizes Jasper is right. @@.vincent;"Yeah, you're right."@@ @@.jasper;"You'd probably apologize to the opponent for losing,"@@ Jasper says, laughing hard. Vincent looks mildly offended. @@.vincent;"I wouldn't apologize."@@ @@.player;"You absolutely would,"@@ you insist. @@.macy;"$name are you going to search up Brisket when you get home?"@@ Macy says. <<if $transgender > 19>>\ @@.player;"N-No,"@@ you lie. <<else>>\ @@.player;"No,"@@ you say confidently. <</if>>\ @@.jasper;"We'll visit $name's room one day and it'll just be sharks and anime girls,"@@ Jasper says, grinning. @@.vincent;"Sovhaj is genuinely kind of wholesome, though,"@@ Vincent says, clearly amused. @@.vincent;"They just picked up this random shark plushie sold by a furniture store and ran with it. A cute sleepy shark is just... not complicated."@@ @@.macy;"I don't care about complication because life is complicated,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"I want my pins to be gay."@@ @@.jasper;"She's trans, that's at least part of the LGBT umbrella,"@@ Jasper points out. Macy narrows her eyes. @@.macy;"Not enough for me. She should be trans //and// gay with another trans girl and hold hands. Then they'd have the //yuri// fans on board."@@ @@.player;"Why do you sound so disgusted when you say yuri?"@@ you ask. @@.macy;"I hate them more than I hate het because they're so close to grasping the truth yet chose the wrong gender to go gay with. Ugh!"@@ @@.vincent;"I really don't understand this war,"@@ Vincent murmurs. @@.vincent;"The yaoi vs yuri debate is harder than AP Physics."@@ @@.player;"Okay, okay, are we done with the anime section now?"@@ you ask, trying to escape. @@.player;"Before Macy starts fighting about gay again?"@@ @@.macy;"Don't you dare tempt me,"@@ Macy hisses. <<elseif $d23anime is 1>>\ You stare at the four pins but end up going back to the elf girl. Frayen's pin doesn't scream for attention the way the orders do. It's quiet in a way that your brain enjoys. @@.player;"This one,"@@ you say, taking it off the peg. Macy's face scrunches up like she just bit into something sour. @@.macy;"Ew."@@ @@.jasper;"Ew?"@@ Jaasper repeats, laughing. @@.jasper;"Frayen is like the one you admitted was good."@@ @@.macy;"I said it was good, not cool,"@@ Macy snaps. @@.vincent;"No, this is a really good pick,"@@ Vincent says, taking it from you and examining it closer. The way he holds it is weirdly careful, like it's a tiny fragile relic instead of something you're gonna clip to your bag and forget about. @@.vincent;"It's understated. It's not trying too hard to be something. It's just calm and thoughtful. Kind of fitting."@@ @@.macy;"Did you just call $name thoughtful?"@@ Macy asks. Vincent pauses, then shrugs, completely serious. @@.vincent;"He is."@@ Jasper grins at you. @@.jasper;"Get complimented, nerd."@@ @@.vincent;"Frayen's a meaningful series if you ask me,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"It hits different than a lot of other anime because it's not about the big fights. Although the big fights //are// amazing. But the point is that it's more about time passing and realizing you missed things."@@ @@.jasper;"You don't even realize what matters until it's gone, man,"@@ Jasper says, nodding. @@.vincent;"It's quiet but it doesn't feel empty,"@@ Vincent says, pushing up his glasses. @@.vincent;"It respects the audience's patience, and I like that."@@ Jasper chuckles. @@.jasper;"Vincent's doing a book report."@@ @@.vincent;"I'm not doing a book report!"@@ Vincent says immediately before realizing he kind of is. @@.vincent;"Okay, maybe a little."@@ @@.macy;"You're lucky you're cute, Vinny,"@@ Macy says. Vincent freezes for half a second, then sputters. @@.vincent;"I–what?"@@ @@.jasper;"Oh my God,"@@ Jasper says, laughing his ass off. You laugh while Vincent's brain buffers. He ends up recovering by focusing back on the pin like it's safe. @@.vincent;"It's a good pick, alright?"@@ Vincent says softly. @@.vincent;"Frayen's kind of comforting."@@ Macy crosses her arms. @@.macy;"Sadly, it's also straight."@@ Vincent sighs. @@.vincent;"Macy."@@ Jasper says, @@.jasper;"Macy's allergic."@@ @@.macy;"I'M NOT ALLERGIC!"@@ Macy snaps. You tuck the Frayen pin away and gesture away from the wall. @@.player;"Okay, before we have the same argument again, can we move on?"@@ Vincent nods, Jasper follows, and Macy huffs like she's suffering through the world's biggest injustice. <<elseif $d23anime is 2>>\ You glance between Firefly and Cerene, the two HonShin Zero pins practically glowing with energy. Probably from all the money they've gotten from desperate gacha fans. Firefly, though, ends up catching your eye. You point at her. @@.player;"I think I want Firefly."@@ Macy immediately slaps a hand against her forehead like she's in pain. @@.macy;"NO."@@ @@.jasper;"Of course she hates it already,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.vincent;"Firefly's a good choice,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"She's a fan favorite for a reason."@@ Macy whips around to Vincent. @@.macy;"WHY DO YOU KNOW THAT, VINNY?"@@ Vincent blinks innocently. @@.vincent;"I've seen things online."@@ @@.jasper;"Vincent has definitely watched HonShin Zero lore videos in the middle of the night,"@@ Jasper says, grinning. @@.vincent;"No I haven't,"@@ Vincent says, looking mildly offended. Macy stares harder. @@.macy;"That was ''not'' convincing."@@ You lift the pin off the peg and turn it over, and the detail is kind of insane. The art is really pretty, and you can tell whoever designed this wanted you to buy it and feel like you were holding a masterpiece. Macy snatches it gently from your hand to inspect it, like she's trying to find some kind of flaw to justify her hate. @@.macy;"Okay... it's pretty. Buttt it would be prettier if she was a boy."@@ @@.jasper;"Macy, stop,"@@ Jasper begs. Vincent smiles, amused. @@.vincent;"HonShin Zero is kind of known for having great character designs. They know exactly what they're doing."@@ @@.player;"That sounds suspiciously like you've played it,"@@ you mutter. Vincent clears his throat. @@.vincent;"I haven't played it. I've just... witnessed the cultural impacts."@@ Jasper nods sagely. @@.jasper;"He's seen the crazy edits."@@ Vincent looks like he wants to disappear, but then he rallies and leans into explaining instead. @@.vincent;"I think Firefly, and a lot of the other HonShin Zero characters, are popular because they look soft but are dangerous. Like she looks sweet, but she could absolutely destroy you. People love that contrast."@@ Macy snarls. @@.macy;"Well she should be a he and be destroying another boy. Romantically."@@ Jasper wheezes. @@.jasper;"She's always like this, man."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"So what the hell even //is// HonShin Zero? My sister's obsessed with it."@@ @@.vincent;"Well, it's a game that's basically built around characters. Collecting them, learning their stories, getting attached. The plot is just kind of bullshit, but the characters keep people invested."@@ @@.macy;"And yet none of them are gay enough,"@@ Macy scorns. Jasper shrugs. @@.jasper;"Nothing is gay enough for Macy."@@ You take one last look at Firefly before leaving the wall to avoid more yaoi drama. <<elseif $d23anime is 3>>\ You glance between Firefly and Cerene, the two HonShin Zero pins practically glowing with energy. Probably from all the money they've gotten from desperate gacha fans. Cerene, though, ends up catching your eye. You point at her. @@.player;"I think I want Cerene."@@ Macy immediately slaps a hand against her forehead like she's in pain. @@.macy;"NO."@@ @@.jasper;"Of course she hates it already,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.vincent;"Cerene's a good choice,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"She's a fan favorite for a reason."@@ Macy whips around to Vincent. @@.macy;"WHY DO YOU KNOW THAT, VINNY?"@@ Vincent blinks innocently. @@.vincent;"I've seen things online."@@ @@.jasper;"Vincent has definitely watched HonShin Zero lore videos in the middle of the night,"@@ Jasper says, grinning. @@.vincent;"No I haven't,"@@ Vincent says, looking mildly offended. Macy stares harder. @@.macy;"That was ''not'' convincing."@@ You lift the pin off the peg and turn it over, and the detail is kind of insane. The art is really pretty, and you can tell whoever designed this wanted you to buy it and feel like you were holding a masterpiece. Macy snatches it gently from your hand to inspect it, like she's trying to find some kind of flaw to justify her hate. @@.macy;"Okay... it's pretty. Buttt it would be prettier if she was a boy."@@ @@.jasper;"Macy, stop,"@@ Jasper begs. Vincent smiles, amused. @@.vincent;"HonShin Zero is kind of known for having great character designs. They know exactly what they're doing."@@ @@.player;"That sounds suspiciously like you've played it,"@@ you mutter. Vincent clears his throat. @@.vincent;"I haven't played it. I've just... witnessed the cultural impacts."@@ Jasper nods sagely. @@.jasper;"He's seen the crazy edits."@@ Vincent looks like he wants to disappear, but then he rallies and leans into explaining instead. @@.vincent;"I think Cerene, and a lot of the other HonShin Zero characters, are popular because they look soft but are dangerous. Like she looks sweet, but she could absolutely destroy you. People love that contrast."@@ Macy snarls. @@.macy;"Well she should be a he and be destroying another boy. Romantically."@@ Jasper wheezes. @@.jasper;"She's always like this, man."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"So what the hell even //is// HonShin Zero? My sister's obsessed with it."@@ @@.vincent;"Well, it's a game that's basically built around characters. Collecting them, learning their stories, getting attached. The plot is just kind of bullshit, but the characters keep people invested."@@ @@.macy;"And yet none of them are gay enough,"@@ Macy scorns. Jasper shrugs. @@.jasper;"Nothing is gay enough for Macy."@@ You take one last look at Cerene before leaving the wall to avoid more yaoi drama. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - Pin Choice">><</button>>

<<set $temp4 to $temp4 + 1>>\ Macy practically drags you toward the goth display like she's on a mission from God. Except her God is art and her holy texts are enamel pins. @@.macy;"This one's the goth section,"@@ Macy announces, stopping so abruptly you nearly bump into her. You look at the wall and immediately understand what she means. The whole display is darker than the rest of the store, with moody lighting. The pins are all dark, containing at least //some// black. A bunch of the pins have classic goth motifs, with roses, broken hearts, crosses, and pentagrams. Somehow, even the little price tags look judgmental. @@.jasper;"Damn,"@@ Jasper mutters, letting out a low whistle. @@.jasper;"This section is committing."@@ Vincent leans closer, eyes scanning the display. It's funny, because he looks at it with polite curiosity. It's almost like he's browsing a museum exhibit titled "Middle School Phases: A Retrospective - Goth." @@.vincent;"They've got a surprisingly cohesive palette,"@@ he ends up saying. @@.vincent;"It's a rather interesting aesthetic."@@ Macy crosses her arms and squints at the goth section. @@.macy;"Okay, it's still cringe, but it's less lame than I expected."@@ @@.player;"That's the nicest thing you've said about anything in like, the entire time I've known you,"@@ you say. @@.macy;"That's because it has Earnest Emma,"@@ Macy says immediately, pointing. Your gaze follows her finger, and there she is. Right in the middle of the goth display is a girl with black hair, brown eyes, and a distinctive lavender hairtie. But now she's in a black outfit, and there's something about the styling that makes her look like a biter. @@.jasper;"They gothified her,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.jasper;"No way, Earnest Emma has entered her goth era."@@ Vincent's eyebrows lift in entertainment. @@.vincent;"Alright. That actually works, surprisingly enough."@@ @@.macy;"It DOES and that ANNOYS me,"@@ Macy says, making a face like she hates that she agrees. <<if $temp1 is true>>\ @@.player;"Wait, but why is Earnest Emma in goth stuff?"@@ you ask, squinting in suspicion. @@.player;"Isn't she, like, the main character? She wasn't goth earlier."@@ @@.jasper;"Yeah, no clue why the sunshine and rainbows protagonist is in fishnets,"@@ Jasper comments. @@.vincent;"Maybe she had some character development,"@@ Vincent offers as an explanation. @@.macy;"It's a collab,"@@ Macy says like this is the most normal thing in the world. @@.macy;"Quirky Critters do special editions all the time. Earnest Emma is popular, so they stick her into everything. Goth. Christmas. Summer. Tax season. Whatever."@@ @@.jasper;"Where can I find tax season pins?"@@ Jasper asks. @@.macy;"Don't tempt them into actually making it,"@@ Macy hisses. <<elseif $temp1 is false>>\ @@.player;"Who's Earnest Emma again?"@@ you ask, glancing at Macy. Macy doesn't even look at you. @@.macy;"She's Earnest Emma."@@ @@.player;"That explains literally nothing,"@@ you say. @@.jasper;"Macy's being as helpful as always,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.vincent;"Is she part of a series or something?"@@ Vincent asks, tilting his head. Macy sighs like you're ehxausting her lifespan just by talking. @@.macy;"She's from the Quirky Critters line."@@ @@.player;"The what?"@@ Macy waves her hand dismissively. @@.macy;"It's just a bunch of characters, like collectible mascots. She's the main one and she's super popular. She gets shoved into every themed section because they know people will buy her."@@ @@.jasper;"Goth mascot main character,"@@ Jasper says, snorting. @@.vincent;"I kind of respect the range,"@@ Vincent says, smiling a little. <</if>>\ The longer you stare at the little Earnest Emma pins, the more your brain starts recognizing yourself in it. She looks... weirdly familiar. She has the same stupid energy you see in the mirror every day. But you decide not to bring it up. @@.macy;"Ugh, I don't even like goth, why'd they do this collab?"@@ Macy complains. @@.macy;"You know what my opinion on goth is? That it's depressing and smells like a dirty room."@@ Jasper blinks. @@.jasper;"Smells like a dirty room?"@@ @@.macy;"It really does,"@@ Macy insists. @@.macy;"But I guess if someone can make it work, it's Earnest Emma."@@ @@.vincent;"That's surprisingly generous,"@@ Vincent says, amused. @@.vincent;"Your love for Earnest Emma outweighs your hate for goth."@@ Macy reaches up, plucks three pins right off the shelves, and shoves them toward you. @@.macy;"Alright, pick one."@@ You look down at the three options. The first one is Earnest Emma dancing. She looks like she's doing a little victory jig after committing a successful bank heist. The second one is a more dramatic version. She has a bouquet of roses in each hand, and one rose in between her teeth as if she's Casanova. The third one is... scary. It shows Earnest Emma with a smug grin, but it's a bit //too// detailed. She looks almost evil. @@.jasper;"Okay, that last one is badass,"@@ Jasper says. @@.vincent;"That one //is// really well drawn,"@@ Vincent says, eyes bright. @@.vincent;"I'm a big fan of the way the artist rendered the hair."@@ Macy squints at the pins with mixed emotions. @@.macy;"It's stupid that she looks good in this stupid outfit."@@ @@.vincent;"$name, go choose,"@@ Vincent says, fully entertained. @@.vincent;"Which Earnest Emma are you taking?"@@ <<button "Dancing Emma" "Day 23 - Pin (Goth) 2">>\<<set $d23goth to 0>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "dancing_goth_fethan">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "dancing_goth_fethan" $temp4-1>>\<</button>> <<button "Romantic Emma" "Day 23 - Pin (Goth) 2">>\<<set $d23goth to 1>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "romantic_goth_fethan">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "romantic_goth_fethan" $temp4-1>>\<</button>> <<button "Smug Emma" "Day 23 - Pin (Goth) 2">>\<<set $d23goth to 2>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "smug_goth_fethan">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "smug_goth_fethan" $temp4-1>>\<</button>>

<<if $d23goth is 0>>\ You don't really weigh it too seriously. The dancing one with Earnest Emma's hands in cute peace signs, tiny boots stomping, and the whole body radiating chaotic energy wins you over. Your fingers reach for it like your heart already made the decision without consulting your brain. @@.player;"This one,"@@ you say, tapping the dancing pin. @@.player;"She looks like she's having a great time."@@ @@.macy;"The hell?"@@ Macy says, reacting with immediate disgust. @@.macy;"Why would you pick //that//?"@@ @@.jasper;"Macy, you literally picked these out,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.macy;"Well, that doesn't mean I have to like them,"@@ Macy counters. @@.jasper;"That makes no sense and you know it,"@@ Jasper says. @@.vincent;"Okay, but wait, this one is actually really cute,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"Look at how happy Earnest Emma is. She's living her truth."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Her truth is apparently dancing through the consequences."@@ @@.macy;"This pin is not that deep,"@@ Macy says, yanking the pin closer to inspect it. @@.macy;"To me, it just looks like she realized she fucked up and decided that was future Earnest Emma's problem. So for now she's just dancing. That's not a good message."@@ @@.vincent;"I think that's kind of inspirational,"@@ Vincent says, totally serious. @@.vincent;"There's something charming about the chaos."@@ Macy groans dramatically. @@.macy;"Of course $name chose the one that makes Earnest Emma look like she bites people."@@ @@.vincent;"She doesn't look like that at all!"@@ Vincent exclaims. @@.macy;"Look at that dance, she absolutely does,"@@ Macy insists. @@.macy;"Maybe not hard, I'll admit that. But definitely enough to be annoying."@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"Macy, you're projecting. That's just a description of yourself."@@ Macy whips around. @@.macy;"I do ''not'' bite people."@@ @@.vincent;"Maybe not physically, but you do bite emotionally,"@@ Vincent says calmly. Macy freezes like she's just been shot. Jasper loses it. @@.jasper;"VINCENT??? YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO SAY THAT???"@@ Vincent immediately looks a little pleased with himself, like he's surprised yet glad the joke landed. @@.vincent;"Sorry. It was right there."@@ You hold the pin up to your backpack, and it instantly makes the thing look like it has more personality. Even if that personality is goth gremlin. @@.macy;"Congratulations,"@@ Macy says, unimpressed. @@.macy;"Your backpack has too much energy, like a kid drank a whole can of Green Bull."@@ @@.player;"I appreciate that,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"The pin suits you,"@@ Vincent says, smiling. @@.vincent;"It's cute."@@ @@.jasper;"Earnest Emma is a little menace,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"Perfect if you ask me."@@ Macy rolls her eyes hard. @@.macy;"Okay, whatever. We're moving on before $name starts emotionally bonding with that pin."@@ You blink. @@.player;"I wasn't bonding."@@ Macy grabs your sleeve and starts pulling you away anyway. @@.macy;"Yes you were. Come on."@@ <<elseif $d23goth is 1>>\ You hover over the options longer this time, actually thinking. The dancing one is cute, sure, and the smug one is... a lot, but the rose one feels different. Like it's still goth, Earnest Emma is still in fishnets, but it's a bit more dramatic. You pick it up carefully. @@.player;"I like this one."@@ Macy squints immediately. @@.macy;"Yeah, of course you do."@@ @@.jasper;"Wait, that one's actually pretty,"@@ Jasper says, leaning in. @@.vincent;"I concur,"@@ Vincent concurs, expression brightening. @@.vincent;"That one is really nice."@@ @@.macy;"Ewww,"@@ Macy says, making a gagging noise. @@.macy;"You two are being romantic about the rose pin."@@ @@.player;"It's not romantic,"@@ you say, even though it kind of is. @@.vincent;"It's the composition for me,"@@ Vincent says, studying the pin like it's a masterpiece of art instead of merch. @@.vincent;"The way the roses frame her, and the contrast between the dark background and the bright red truly emphasizes—"@@ @@.macy;"Vincent, stop,"@@ Macy interrupts. @@.macy;"You're doing art class at the mall."@@ Vincent smiles sheepishly. @@.vincent;"Sorry. It's just genuinely well designed."@@ @@.jasper;"Yeah, the roses make it look fancy,"@@ Jasper says, nodding. @@.jasper;"Like she's goth but rich."@@ @@.macy;"Goth but rich is literally the most annoying genre of person,"@@ Macy complains, narrowing her eyes. @@.macy;"Any counterculture but rich SUCKS. I believe rich people should just accept their richness and play golf."@@ You hold the pin up, turning it slightly so the light catches it. You don't know why, but the rose in between Earnest Emma's little mouth is really funny. She's holding all that floral drama with gravitas. @@.player;"I just think it's kinda cool,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It'll really shows off my tender side."@@ @@.vincent;"I think it does have some emotional depth,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"It's silly, sure, but all three of them are. It's pretty and different from the other ones. I'm a big fan."@@ @@.player;"I agree,"@@ you say, feeling weirdly validated even though you just chose it because you thought it was cool. @@.macy;"Fine then!"@@ Macy says, making an exaggerated sigh. @@.macy;"Get the romance rose princess pin."@@ @@.player;"You're letting me have it?"@@ you ask, surprised she's not putting up more of a fight. @@.macy;"I'm not letting you have anything, $name,"@@ Macy snaps, clearly still annoyed. @@.macy;"I'm just acknowledging I can't stop you from becoming a hopeless romantic."@@ @@.vincent;"It's just a pin,"@@ Vincent murmurs. You take the pin and hold it up to your backpack, and it looks like a fancy gothic centerpiece. @@.jasper;"I think that's an upgrade,"@@ Jasper says, nodding approvingly. @@.vincent;"Hmm, goth looks better than I expected,"@@ Vincent comments, stroking his chin. Macy stares at it for one more second before shaking her head. @@.macy;"Whatever! You chose the worst one. Let's move on before Vincent starts explaining what roses symbolize and ruins my life."@@ @@.vincent;"Well, since you wanted to know,"@@ Vincent begins, a smirk on his face, @@.vincent;"it's because roses were associated with Aphrodite, the goddess of love, in Ancient Greece."@@ @@.jasper;"Is... Is that it?"@@ Jasper asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.vincent;"I don't //always// ramble,"@@ Vincent says. @@.macy;"Let's get out of here before he starts giving us more details,"@@ Macy says, speed-walking away. <<elseif $d23goth is 2>>\ You don't even look at the other two for long. The dancing one is cute in a chaotic way and the rose one is pretty, but your eyes keep snapping back to the third pin. The smug pin. You pick it up. @@.player;"I want this one."@@ Jasper immediately recoils like you just grabbed a cursed artifact. @@.jasper;"Nah man. Hell no."@@ @@.macy;"WHAT IS THAT?"@@ Macy says. @@.vincent;"That one is... quite intimidating,"@@ Vincent comments. @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask, enjoying their reaction. @@.player;"It's cool."@@ @@.macy;"That pin is scary,"@@ Macy says flatly. @@.macy;"Why did they do that to Earnest Emma? I'm going to have to contact the Quirky Critters company."@@ @@.vincent;"It feels like she's judging me,"@@ Vincent says, squinting. The smile is way too big and confident and toothy, but you love that. @@.player;"I think she looks awesome,"@@ you insist. @@.macy;"$name, are you blind?"@@ Macy asks. @@.macy;"She looks like she has a secret murder basement."@@ @@.jasper;"She looks like she's about to blackmail me after getting my search history,"@@ Jasper says. Vincent makes a face like he hates that Jasper said that but also can't deny it. @@.vincent;"She looks like she's about to say something really mean in a nice way, just to mock you."@@ @@.player;"You guys are so dramatic,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.jasper;"Notice how you're the only person here who isn't afraid of that pin,"@@ Jasper observes, squinting at you now instead of the pin. @@.jasper;"What does that say about you?"@@ @@.player;"It says I have good taste,"@@ you reply instantly. @@.vincent;"This is Evil Emma, not Earnest Emma,"@@ Vincent murmurs. @@.player;"Okay, well, I'm getting it,"@@ you say, tucking the pin against your palm to protect it from them. @@.player;"I don't care what you guys have to say."@@ @@.macy;"Why?"@@ Macy asks, groaning dramatically. @@.player;"'Cause I like it,"@@ you say simply. @@.jasper;"Maybe $name just likes getting bullied,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"Chose the pin that could beat him up."@@ @@.vincent;"She looks like she has a knife,"@@ Vincent says, voice wavering. You hold the pin up to the backpack, and the entire vibe shifts. It doesn't look soft or beginner or cute anymore. It looks like it belongs to someone with options and strong eyeliner. @@.jasper;"Yeah, that's still scary,"@@ Jasper says. @@.vincent;"It's... definitely a statement?"@@ Vincent says, trying to sound nice even though he has nothing nice to say. @@.macy;"Alright then,"@@ Macy says, rubbing her forehead in exhaustion. @@.macy;"We're moving on now, before that pin starts whispering scary things."@@ @@.jasper;"I think Evil Emma's already got him,"@@ Jasper jokes, grinning. Vincent laughs too. @@.vincent;"Let's go before Macy demands we stage an exorcism."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - Pin Choice">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D23QuirkyCritters">>\ <<set $temp4 to $temp4 + 1>>\ You barely finish saying the words "Quirky Critters" when Macy grabs you and drags the whole group toward the display like she's leading a field trip. @@.macy;"YES,"@@ she declares, marching ahead with purpose. @@.macy;"What a great answer, $name. Quirky Critters is the only section here with any actual personality."@@ Jasper follows, hands in his pockets. @@.jasper;"That's a bold claim when the train section exists."@@ Macy whips around mid-step, glaring at Jasper. @@.macy;"The train section is ''not'' a personality. It's a cry for help."@@ @@.jasper;"This whole store is a cry for help,"@@ Jasper mutters, amused. You trail behind them, clutching your newly upgraded backpack as if it's a lifeline, and the closer you get, the more you understand Macy's words. This isn't a random pile of pins, no. It's organized like it's a shrine. Rows of pins hang on neat hooks, each one mounted on a little card backing with the ''Quirky Critters'' logo in bright letters. Each one seems to have a short biography printed in tiny text underneath. They all share the same art style: chibi proportions, big expressive faces, and strong outlines. @@.macy;"Behold!"@@ Macy says, spreading her arms. @@.macy;"The Critters."@@ @@.jasper;"Okay, I've gotta admit these are pretty high quality,"@@ Jasper says, letting out an impressed whistle. Vincent leans closer, eyes scanning the way someone scans a bookshelf. @@.vincent;"The printing is really clean and the enamel looks thick. That's not cheap."@@ Macy nods like she's proud of the manufacturing process. @@.macy;"Exactly. That's why they're popular. People don't feel guilty wasting money on them because they're 'collectible.'"@@ You squint at the wall and get that weird feeling again. Kind of like deja vu. The faces are familiar in a way that doesn't quite make sense. The colors, the expression, and the vibes. They're all... too familiar. Macy doesn't notice you staring like you're about to pass out. She's already pointing excitedly at the first one. @@.macy;"Let's start here!"@@ Then she taps the first one. There's a round yellow background, and on that, a little orange-haired character with an innocent grin. It's like he's happy just to exist in such a beautiful world. He's got a messenger bag at his side, a hoodie at his waste, and a shirt with a dog on it. The whole thing radiates golden retriever energy. @@.macy;"This is Loyal Liam,"@@ Macy announces. You freeze, immediately thinking of Luke. It's not even subtle, to be honest. The hair's the same kind of messy. The expression is the same kind of cluelessly happy. Even the energy feels identical. If you put this pin next to Luke's face, they'd sync up like Bluetooth devices. @@.player;"That one's... cute,"@@ you manage to say. @@.jasper;"That looks like a toddler trapped in a pin,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.jasper;"Look at how happy he looks. He hasn't suffered yet."@@ @@.macy;"Okay, are you guys all ready for Loyal Liam lore?"@@ Macy asks, looking at the tiny bio on the back of the card. @@.macy;"He's the type who will follow you into danger no questions asked. He likes snacks, hates homework, and he's known for getting distracted by anything and everything."@@ @@.vincent;"That's a lot,"@@ Vincent says, leaning in. @@.macy;"He also has a signature move where he gives someone a thumbs up, but only in the worst possible moment."@@ Your stomach flips slightly, because Luke has absolutely done that before. Like when you did horrible on a quiz and he leaned over and whiepered, @@.luke;"Don't worry, bro. You looked confident while failing."@@ He then gave you a thumbs up like it would help. @@.player;"That... sounds like someone I know,"@@ you say, suspicious. @@.macy;"I mean, of course, everyone knows a Loyal Liam,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"That's why he's popular."@@ @@.jasper;"He could be America's national mascot,"@@ Jasper says. @@.vincent;"I kind of want him,"@@ Vincent says, chuckling. @@.vincent;"He seems cute and harmless."@@ @@.jasper;"That's how they get you, Vinny,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"He only appears harmless."@@ Macy moves on before you can keep staring at the Luke-not-Luke pin. Next to Loyal Liam is a character with a black beanie, black hair sweeping over one eye, and a very smug expression. She looks like she's one second away from saying something mean. @@.macy;"Snarky Sally,"@@ Macy says, tapping it. Your brain says Samantha. It snaps into place so quickly that your whole body goes still. The expression is too perfect. Even the little blush shading on the cheeks looks like someone who would pretend not to care when they actually care way too much. @@.jasper;"This one looks like she would call me ugly,"@@ Jasper observes, letting out a laugh. @@.macy;"Oh she would!"@@ Macy says, nodding. @@.macy;"And she'd be right."@@ @@.vincent;"Why does she look like she's judging me from the inside of a tiny circle,"@@ Vincent says, squinting at the details. Macy flips the pin card slightly and starts listing lore. @@.macy;"Okay. Snarky Sally is a fan favorite because she's brutally honest and has no patience. Her whole thing is she acts like she hates everyone, but she actually has two best friends she'd commit crimes for."@@ You swallow. Why the fuck is that //literally// Samantha? I mean, she'd deny it, but that's the truth. She's threatened people over a lot less. She once said she'd fight your biology teacher in the parking lot because he gave you a D on a test. A D that you totally deserved, by the way. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, clearing your throat. @@.player;"That's weirdly specific."@@ Macy shrugs. @@.macy;"It's character writing."@@ @@.jasper;"Why does this critter look like she bites?"@@ Jasper asks, pointing at Sally's little face. @@.macy;"She does,"@@ Macy says instantly. @@.macy;"Canonically she bites."@@ Vincent laughs, then glances at you like he's sharing a joke. @@.vincent;"If you bought that pin, it would glare at you from your backpack all day."@@ @@.player;"It reminds me of someone,"@@ you say, pressing your lips together. @@.macy;"Someone mean?"@@ Macy asks. @@.player;"...Yeah,"@@ you admit. @@.jasper;"That checks out,"@@ Jasper comments. You shake your head like you're trying to reset your brain. It's a coincidence, obviously. It has to be. It's not like your school friends are secretly part of a mass-produced pin line. That would be insane. Macy continues, cheerful as ever. @@.macy;"Next!"@@ She taps a blonde girl with a big grin and both hands raised in a cheer. The background is bubblegum pink and the girl has two pom-poms in her hands. @@.macy;"Jubilant Julia."@@ Your suspicion level ticks up another notch, because that's Jessica. It's not just the blonde, it's the smile and the pose. You're pretty sure you've seen her doing that exact pose before during a football game. You stare at it, then glance at Vincent like maybe he sees it too. Vincent stares right back at the pin, blinking slowly. @@.vincent;"That's very cheerful."@@ @@.macy;"Jubilant Julia is the most popular Critter in the entire line,"@@ Macy says, reading off the lore again. @@.macy;"Everyone loves her. She's the 'it girl' Critter. She's always nice, always smiling, always has something encouraging to say. She's known for being friends with, like, literally everyone."@@ @@.jasper;"That's terrifying,"@@ Jasper says, snorting. @@.jasper;"I'll be unpopular in peace."@@ @@.vincent;"Wouldn't all that be exhausting?"@@ Vincent asks. Macy sighs dramatically. @@.macy;"Yes, but that's what makes her an icon. She does have secret sadness lore though. Like she's always cheerful and trying so hard because she wants her parents to notice her."@@ That's absolutely Jessica. @@.player;"Okay, no, these are too suspicious,"@@ you say, frowning. @@.player;"These legit remind me of people at school."@@ Jasper looks at you like you're crazy. @@.jasper;"$name, you're spiraling, man."@@ @@.player;"No, like, these are literally them,"@@ you say, gesturing at the pin wall like it's evidence. @@.vincent;"I mean, it does look familiar,"@@ Vincent says, scanning the pin's little details. @@.macy;"Oh my God you two,"@@ Macy says, waving a hand. @@.macy;"It's because Quirky Critters is well-written. That's the whole point. They're designed to be relatable."@@ @@.jasper;"Relatable generational trauma,"@@ Jasper mutters, nodding. @@.jasper;"Cool."@@ Macy nudges the pin like she's proud of it. @@.macy;"Jubilant Julia also has a really nice house and a fancy car in the little mini-comics."@@ @@.vincent;"There are mini-comics?"@@ Vincent asks, raising an eyebrow. Macy gasps. @@.macy;"You didn't know???"@@ @@.jasper;"Please don't get her to start yapping,"@@ Jasper begs. @@.jasper;"She's got PDFs and everything."@@ Macy ignores him, doing her best to recruit Vincent. @@.macy;"Vinny, you ''need'' to get into Quirky Critters. There's lore. There's arcs. There's side characters. There's angst."@@ Vincent looks slightly horrified. @@.vincent;"Macy, I don't know if I have time for another obsession."@@ You glance back at the pin and your suspicion climbs again. Jessica is your homeroom partner and this is way too close to her. Macy moves on again before you can fully lose it. Now she taps the boy with glasses and white hair. His expression is nervous, like he's thinking way too hard. He wears a sweater vest with a green tie. @@.macy;"Vulnerable Vivian,"@@ Macy says. Vincent's eyes widen massively as he stares at the pin. He leans closer, almost unconsciously, to get a better look. @@.vincent;"That's..."@@ he starts, then stops. Jasper looks at him, amused. @@.jasper;"What. Feeling called out?"@@ Vincent's cheeks go pink. @@.vincent;"No. It just... looks..."@@ Macy grins like she's been waiting for this. @@.macy;"Oh my God, Vincent. You're //literally// Vulnerable Vivian."@@ You stare at the pin and your brain is fucking screaming. That's Vincent. It's basically him in chibi form. The same hair, the same glasses, even the same clothes. Vincent picks up the pin card carefully, reading the lore with an expression full of disbelief. Macy reads it aloud anyway because she can't help herself. @@.macy;"Vulnerable Vivian is a sensitive overthinker who loves books, history, and art. He's shy but very smart. He gets flustered easily and is known for rambling when he gets excited and then immediately regretting it."@@ Vincent's ears go red. @@.jasper;"NO WAY,"@@ Jasper says, bursting out laughing. @@.jasper;"That's literally you, Vinny."@@ @@.vincent;"That's not fair,"@@ Vincent whines, trying his best to look offended. @@.vincent;"He is not literally me."@@ @@.jasper;"Take a look at this,"@@ Jasper says, reading the tiny line under the lore. @@.jasper;"It says his favorite snack is animal crackers and his least favorite activity is being perceived."@@ @@.player;"That's so you,"@@ you say, laughing. Vincent covers his face with his hands embarrassed. @@.vincent;"It's not!"@@ Jasper grins. @@.jasper;"Vincent, you literally tried to disappear into your chair today when Ms. Delgado asked you something."@@ Vincent peeks through his fingers. @@.vincent;"Okay, maybe a little."@@ Macy's eyes sparkle, she's clearly delighted by his suffering. @@.macy;"Vulnerable Vivian also has a hobby where he reorganizes his bookshelf whenever he's stressed."@@ @@.player;"Vincent,"@@ you begin, narrowing your eyes, @@.player;"do you do that?"@@ Vincent hesitates. @@.vincent;"Sometimes."@@ Jasper laughs harder. @@.jasper;"IT'S LITERALLY YOU."@@ @@.vincent;"This is... weird,"@@ Vincent says, staring at the pin in disbelief. @@.player;"Yeah, it's... really weird,"@@ you say slowly. Your suspicion is now past "huh" and quickly approaching "what the fuck." Macy keeps going, thrilled to escalate your confusion. Next is the mysterious one: purple-tipped hair, a star necklace, and a familiar earring. @@.macy;"Ambiguous Alice,"@@ Macy says. THAT'S AURORA. You actually inhale sharply without meaning to. @@.jasper;"$name?"@@ Jasper asks, having noticed it. @@.player;"Nothing!"@@ you say, recovering. @@.player;"It's just... that pin looks like it knows a secret."@@ @@.vincent;"It does have that vibe,"@@ Vincent says thoughtfully. @@.vincent;"Like it would stare at you and then say something cryptic."@@ @@.macy;"Yesss,"@@ Macy says, vibrating in excitement. @@.macy;"Ambiguous Alice is the mysterious one. She's always showing up out of nowhere and knowing things she shouldn't. Half the fandom thinks she's magical."@@ Jasper snorts. @@.jasper;"Half the fandom is twelve, Macy."@@ Macy glares at him. @@.macy;"Shut up. She //is// magical, alright? It's basically confirmed."@@ @@.vincent;"What does 'basically confirmed' entail?"@@ Vincent asks, raising his eyebrows. @@.macy;"Her lore ''literally'' says that she's 'interested in the unseen.'"@@ Macy says. @@.jasper;"That could mean she likes horror movies,"@@ Jasper deadpans. Macy ignores him. @@.macy;"She's also always in the woods and likes saying creepy shit to freak people out."@@ @@.vincent;"That's kind of funny,"@@ Vincent says, looking intrigued. You swallow, staring at the pin. Aurora looks and acts exactly like that. @@.player;"These are weirdly accurate,"@@ you say, clearing your throat. @@.macy;"Quirky Critters goes deep, man,"@@ Macy says. @@.jasper;"$name seems to be brewing up a conspiracy,"@@ Jasper says. Macy moves to the next one before you can speak up. Brown hair, tired eyes, holding a cup like he's about to judge the entire world. His expression is so unimpressed it circles back around to being funny. @@.macy;"I like this Critter a lot. Judgmental Jonathan."@@ Bro, that's Jordan. At this point you don't even try to hide the way your eyes narrow. @@.jasper;"This Critter looks exhausted,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.vincent;"Why does he look like he's about to sigh at me?"@@ Vincent asks. Macy reads the lore, clearly enjoying herself. @@.macy;"Judgmental Jonathan is a tsundere. He pretends he hates everyone, and for the most part, he does. But for the one he does truly care about, he's as loyal and sweet as can be. He's the 'mean but soft inside' Critter."@@ @@.jasper;"I think he'd hate all of us,"@@ Jasper says, pointing at the pin. Macy nods. @@.macy;"Yeah, he would."@@ @@.vincent;"He looks like he would critique my posture,"@@ Vincent says. Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"Bro, he'd critique your breathing."@@ @@.player;"He reminds me of someone I know,"@@ you murmur. @@.macy;"$name, stop saying that,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"You're making it weird."@@ @@.player;"What am I meant to do? It IS weird,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's literally just... it's too specific."@@ Vincent glances at you, amused. @@.vincent;"What's his lore say next?"@@ Macy continues reading. @@.macy;"He's the school's starting quarterback in the mini-comics, but his true passion lies in theater."@@ You flinch. @@.vincent;"That's kinda fun,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"It's cute, and his face is funny."@@ @@.jasper;"Judgmental Jonathan looks like he wakes up annoyed,"@@ Jasper observes. Macy nods. @@.macy;"Correct. That's his entire personality."@@ Your suspicion is crawling up your spine. You can't stop staring at the wall. Each one has lined up way too perfectly. Like someone watched your school life and decided to make it into a marketable product. Macy takes a step to the side. @@.macy;"Last one,"@@ she says casually, like she isn't about to drop a nuclear bomb on your brain. You feel dread as Macy taps the final pin. It's a cheerful character, winking while holding her thumb up. She has black hair, brown eyes, and a purple hairtie. @@.macy;"Earnest Emma!"@@ Macy says excitedly. And you just stare because it's you. Not literally you, obviously. That would be insane. You're not a pin or a character. You're a person. But shit, it's //you//. The hair, the face, the general vibe. Even the stupid wink. It feels like someone made you into a chibi and printed it on enamel. You stare at it so hard your brain goes quiet for a second. @@.player;"...Bro,"@@ you say, finally speaking. @@.player;"Come on now."@@ Jasper looks at you. @@.jasper;"What?"@@ You point at the pin. @@.player;"That is literally me."@@ Macy immediately recoils like you just said the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. @@.macy;"IT IS NOT."@@ @@.vincent;"What are you saying, $name?"@@ Vincent asks, trying to understnad what you mean. @@.vincent;"She's just a character."@@ @@.player;"Oh my God, look at it,"@@ you say, pointing at it agressively. @@.player;"The hair, the face, the lavender. That's literally my whole deal."@@ Jasper bursts out laughing. @@.jasper;"$name thinks he's a Quirky Critter."@@ Macy smacks Jasper's arm. @@.macy;"Stop encouragng him."@@ Vincent picks up the pin card and reads the lore, then starts laughing too because it's impossible not to. @@.vincent;"It says Earnest Emma always tries her best and makes friends easily,"@@ Vincent looks up at you, smiling like he can't believe what he's holding. @@.vincent;"It does kind of match you."@@ You stare at him, betrayed. @@.player;"Vincent."@@ Vincent laughs harder. @@.vincent;"I'm sorry, alright! It's just kinda accurate."@@ Macy points at the wall like it's a perfectly normal product display. @@.macy;"They're RELATABLE characters! That's why they sell! You're not special, $name, you're just a demographic."@@ @@.jasper;"Man, just a demographic is insane,"@@ Jasper says, wheezing. @@.jasper;"Not saying you're wrong, though."@@ You look between all of them, still pointing at the pin like it personally offended you. @@.player;"No, but it's too much. All of them are too similar. Loyal Liam, Snarky Sally, Jubilant Julia, Vulnerable Vivian, Ambiguous Alice, Judgmental Jonathan. Remind you of anyone? They're Luke, Samantha, Jessica—"@@ Macy cuts you off. @@.macy;"They're FICTIONAL."@@ @@.vincent;"$name, do you think the Quirky Critters company is stalking your friend group?"@@ Vincent asks, laughing hard. You hesitate, because saying yes out loud would make you sound insane. Jasper grins. @@.jasper;"I think that's what he's thinking right now."@@ You drop your hand, grumbling. @@.player;"I'm just saying it's suspicious."@@ Macy crosses her arms. @@.macy;"You're talking crazy. They're just the Critters."@@ @@.vincent;"So, which Critter are you going to buy?"@@ Vincent asks, nudging you lightly. @@.vincent;"Since Earnest Emma is apparently your twin."@@ @@.player;"Come on,"@@ you say, basically begging for them to see it. Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"He's gonna buy himself."@@ @@.macy;"Okay, let's cut this conspiracy shit out, and just pick one,"@@ Macy says. <<button "Loyal Liam" "Day 23 - Pin (Quirky Critters) 2">>\<<set $d23quirkycritters to 0>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "loyal_luke">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "loyal_luke" $temp4-1>>\<</button>> <<button "Snarky Sally" "Day 23 - Pin (Quirky Critters) 2">>\<<set $d23quirkycritters to 1>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "snarky_sam">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "snarky_sam" $temp4-1>>\<</button>> <<button "Jubilant Julia" "Day 23 - Pin (Quirky Critters) 2">>\<<set $d23quirkycritters to 2>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "jubilant_jess">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "jubilant_jess" $temp4-1>>\<</button>> <<button "Vulnerable Vivian" "Day 23 - Pin (Quirky Critters) 2">>\<<set $d23quirkycritters to 3>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "vulnerable_vincent">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "vulnerable_vincent" $temp4-1>>\<</button>> <<button "Ambiguous Alice" "Day 23 - Pin (Quirky Critters) 2">>\<<set $d23quirkycritters to 4>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "ambiguous_aurora">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "ambiguous_aurora" $temp4-1>>\<</button>> <<button "Judgmental Jonathan" "Day 23 - Pin (Quirky Critters) 2">>\<<set $d23quirkycritters to 5>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "judgemental_jordan">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "judgemental_jordan" $temp4-1>>\<</button>> <<button "Earnest Emma" "Day 23 - Pin (Quirky Critters) 2">>\<<set $d23quirkycritters to 6>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "earnest_fethan">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "earnest_fethan" $temp4-1>>\<</button>>

<<if $d23quirkycritters is 0>>\ You end up grabbing Loyal Liam without even thinking too hard about it. There's something oddly comforting about the pin's dumb happy face. It's bright, it's warm, it's uncomplicated. Just happy. It also feels like it would forgive you for forgetting it and losing it somewhere, which will probably happen. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, holding it up between your fingers. @@.player;"Loyal Liam."@@ Macy watches you hold it up and her face twists. @@.macy;"Oh, of course you picked Loyal Liam."@@ @@.jasper;"$name saw the orange hair and decided he needed the ginger,"@@ Jasper comments, grinning. You glare. @@.player;"I did not."@@ @@.vincent;"He looks really friendly,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"But also a little clumsy. Like he'd volunteer to carry your books then accidentally drop them all."@@ @@.jasper;"That's exactly what he looks like, actually,"@@ Jasper says. @@.jasper;"A walking accident. One with good intentions, yes, but a walking accident nonetheless."@@ Macy snatches the card from you and flips it over once more. @@.macy;"Loyal Liam lore time. Since you made this... //interesting// choice."@@ @@.player;"I can't do a single thing right,"@@ you mutter. Macy reads anyway. @@.macy;"Loyal Liam is known for being loyal, obviously, but also for having zero survival instincts. He follows his two best friends, Snarky Sally and Earnest Emma around like a puppy."@@ @@.player;"Oh my God, that's just Luke,"@@ you say. Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"Luke?"@@ You shake your head, that name wasn't supposed to slip out like that. @@.player;"Nobody. It's just 'cause he reminded me of someone."@@ @@.macy;"$name, for the last time, EVERYONE has a Loyal Liam in their life,"@@ Macy states. @@.player;"No,"@@ you insist. @@.player;"Not to this extent."@@ @@.jasper;"$name's back on his conspiracy theory,"@@ Jasper says. Macy keeps going, tapping the printed text with her nail. @@.macy;"In the mini-comics, Loyal Liam waits outside Earnest Emma's house every morning and refuses to walk to school without her."@@ Your soul briefly exits your body. Vincent turns his head slowly toward you. @@.vincent;"You alright, $name?"@@ @@.player;"Macy, you've got to stop,"@@ you say. @@.macy;"What?"@@ Macy asks, confused. @@.macy;"It's cute. That's literally his thing."@@ @@.player;"That's literally //Luke's// thing,"@@ you hiss. @@.player;"Luke waits for me outside my home every morning."@@ @@.vincent;"Okay, that is really specific,"@@ Vincent admits. @@.jasper;"Your ginger friend does that in real life?"@@ Jasper asks, laughing. @@.player;"YES!"@@ you exclaim, horrified. Macy shrugs, not even impressed. @@.macy;"Okay? Lots of people wait for their friends."@@ @@.player;"This is literally Luke,"@@ you say, holding the pin up again. @@.player;"It's literally him. They didn't even try to hide it."@@ Macy scoffs. @@.macy;"You're being dramatic."@@ @@.jasper;"I agree,"@@ Jasper echoes. @@.macy;"I hate to break it to you, but everyone has a Loyal Liam,"@@ Macy says, crossing her arms. @@.macy;"You picked the most common Critter."@@ You take the pin, still suspicious as hell. @@.player;"Fine. Whatever. I guess I just picked the golden retriever."@@ @@.vincent;"It does suit your backpack, though,"@@ Vincent says. @@.player;"I guess that's comforting,"@@ you murmur. <<elseif $d23quirkycritters is 1>>\ Your hand goes straight to Snarky Sally. Black beanie, sharp green eyes, and that smug expression. The pin radiates sarcasm. @@.player;"I'm getting Snarky Sally,"@@ you announce, holding up the pin. @@.macy;"Ewww,"@@ Macy says, looking disgusted. @@.jasper;"She hates it,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.jasper;"Don't worry. That means you did good."@@ @@.vincent;"Let me see the lore,"@@ Vincent says, holding his hand out. Macy snatches the backing card from your hand before you can even blink. @@.macy;"No. I'm not letting this happen without commentary."@@ @@.player;"What's wrong with Snarky Sally?"@@ you ask, squinting. @@.macy;"What's wrong?"@@ Macy repeats, offended by the question itself. @@.macy;"She's literally the meanest critter. You should see what she says to Loyal Liam. Poor guy, I love him."@@ @@.jasper;"She looks like she'd roast me for the most mundane shit,"@@ Jasper says, pointing at the pin's face. Macy nods. @@.macy;"Exactly, that's what makes her exhausting."@@ @@.player;"Isn't that kind of the appeal?"@@ you ask. Vincent chuckles. @@.vincent;"That's such a terrifying sentence."@@ @@.macy;"Oh my God, okay, hear this,"@@ Macy says, reading from the back. @@.macy;"Snarky Sally's favorite snack is hot chips."@@ You freeze. Not because hot chips are some rare thing no one eats. But because Samantha literally lives off hot chips like they're necessary to her survival. You've seen her pull a bag out of her hoodie pocket like it was a weapon. You've watched her eat them for lunch and call it "self-care." @@.player;"Wait,"@@ you say. @@.jasper;"Wait for what?"@@ Jasper asks. @@.jasper;"That's not that weird. Lots of people like hot chips."@@ @@.player;"That's not what I mean,"@@ you say, panic grabbing you. @@.player;"That's literally what—"@@ @@.vincent;"You alright, $name?"@@ Vincent asks. You shake your head quickly. @@.player;"Nothing! Nothing. Keep going."@@ Macy continues. @@.macy;"It also says she only shops at one store because everything else is 'basic and embarrassing.'"@@ You go still again. You can literally hear Samantha's voice in your head saying, @@.samantha;"If I see one more person wearing that ugly NovaTrend top I'm gonna lose it. Threadz is ''so'' much better."@@ @@.macy;"It's this one, like, counterculture store with ugly ass clothes,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"She refuses to shop anywhere else."@@ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say slowly, trying to pretend your brain isn't screaming. @@.player;"That's... kind of exactly someone I know."@@ @@.macy;"Everyone knows someone like Snarky Sally,"@@ Macy says. @@.player;"No, you don't understand,"@@ you insist, voice rising. @@.player;"I have a friend and she's literally Snarky Sally. She wears the beanie, she's mean, she eats hot chips constantly, she only shops at one store and calls everything else cringe. She's literally—"@@ @@.macy;"$name, Snarky Sally is a mass-produced pin character,"@@ Macy says, dead serious. @@.player;"That only makes it worse!"@@ you say. @@.jasper;"Bro thinks Quirky Critters is spying on him,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.vincent;"Look, $name, it's just a coincidence,"@@ Vincent says, trying to comfort you. @@.vincent;"These are all... pretty popular character traits."@@ @@.player;"Vincent, you're supposed to be on my side,"@@ you mutter, betrayed. Vincent holds up his hands. @@.vincent;"I'm not saying you're wrong that it's similar. I'm just saying it doesn't mean anything."@@ @@.player;"Fine, whatever!"@@ you mutter, taking the pin. @@.player;"It's just a pin."@@ @@.vincent;"If it makes you feel better, she does suit you,"@@ Vincent says, looking amused by your conspiracy theory. <<elseif $d23quirkycritters is 2>>\ You stare at the wall for another couple of seconds before grabbing Jubilant Julia. It's a safe choice! Bright smile, bright colors, bright everything. The kind of Critter that looks like she'd give you a sticker and tell you you're doing great. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, holding her up. @@.player;"I'm getting Jubilant Julia."@@ @@.macy;"Ewww,"@@ Macy says, making a weird noise like she just bit into something really sour. @@.jasper;"There it is,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.jasper;"What's the problem now, Macy?"@@ @@.vincent;"She's not bad,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"Julia seems pretty cool, actually."@@ @@.macy;"Vincent, she's worse than bad,"@@ Macy says, snatching the pin card from your hand. @@.macy;"She's popular."@@ @@.player;"When'd that become a crime?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.macy;"It's //been// a crime, $name,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"When something's popular, everyone gets annoying about it. And then you can't like it peacefully anymore."@@ @@.jasper;"She's allergic to anything mainstream,"@@ Jasper explains, nodding like this makes perfect sense. @@.vincent;"Well, personally, I feel the art is cute,"@@ Vincent says, shrugging. @@.vincent;"I get why she's popular."@@ @@.macy;"Ugh, it's all propaganda!"@@ Macy says dramatically. @@.macy;"But whatever! I guess $name chose ''the'' Quirky Critter."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean by //the// Quirky Critter?"@@ you ask. @@.macy;"Jubilant Julia is the most popular Critter by far,"@@ Macy says with a sigh. @@.jasper;"I guess she's basically a celebrity,"@@ Jasper says, whistling. @@.macy;"She's the captain of the cheer team at Quirky Critters High,"@@ Macy says, reading from the back of her card. @@.player;"...Captain?"@@ you repeat, a little too carefully. @@.macy;"Yup, and it only gets worse from there,"@@ Macy says, tapping the card. @@.macy;"She's also homeroom partners with Earnest Emma."@@ You almost drop the fucking backpack. You stare at Macy. Then you stare at the pin wall. Then you stare at the universe. @@.player;"No way,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Why would the lore say that? Why the hell would it say that?"@@ @@.vincent;"Because it's lore,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"It's meant to flesh out her character."@@ You exhale through your nose, trying to stay calm despite the fact that you're spiraling. @@.player;"Okay, but think about it. Cheer Captain, homeroom partners with Earnest Emma, blonde, bubbly, nice."@@ Macy stares at you flatly. @@.macy;"Yes, $name. Those are some characteristics of Jubilant Julia."@@ @@.player;"That's literally Jessica,"@@ you say before you can stop yourself. @@.vincent;"No,"@@ Vincent says quickly, immediately shaking his head. It's as if he's cutting you off before you summon a demon. @@.jasper;"He said it again,"@@ Jasper says laughing. @@.player;"You guys know Jessica!"@@ you say, rambling because you can't stop now. @@.player;"She's captain of the cheer team, homeroom partners with me, blonde, bubbly, and nice. You've gotta admit that that's suspicious!"@@ @@.jasper;"Okay, yeah, but that's also a pretty common archetype,"@@ Jasper says, shrugging. @@.vincent;"I have to agree with Jasper here,"@@ Vincent says, joining the pile-on like you're being outvoted. @@.vincent;"Cheer captain popular blonde girl is... not rare."@@ You stare at Vincent, betrayed. @@.player;"Vincent."@@ Vincent lefts both hands defensively, smiling a little like he's trying not to laugh. @@.vincent;"I'm not saying it doesn't resemble her. I'm saying that doesn't mean the pin company is spying on you."@@ @@.player;"It's not even just her, alright,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's the homeroom partner thing too."@@ Macy squints. @@.macy;"Homeroom partners are also not rare."@@ @@.player;"Yes they are?"@@ you say. @@.player;"Who has homeroom partners?"@@ @@.jasper;"Apparently Quirky Critters do,"@@ Jasper mutters. @@.vincent;"$name, listen,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"Jessica is a popular blonde cheerleader. That's enough to match a million characters."@@ You sigh, shoulders slumping a little. @@.player;"Okay. Fine."@@ @@.jasper;"He's finally accepting he's crazy,"@@ Jasper says, grinning. @@.player;"Shut up,"@@ you murmur. Vincent smiles. @@.vincent;"Let's go before $name starts accusing the mall of surveillance."@@ <<elseif $d23quirkycritters is 3>>\ You hesitate before ending up on Vulnerable Vivian. The glasses, the white hair, and the little face he has just says something to you. It's not the flashiest or coolest choice, but that makes you want to pick it even more. @@.player;"I'm going with this one,"@@ you say, holding it up. @@.player;"Vulnerable Vivian."@@ Macy's face twists immediately. @@.macy;"Ugh."@@ @@.jasper;"Why are you saying 'ugh' like He picked something horrible?"@@ Jasper asks, laughing. @@.macy;"Because he did,"@@ Macy shoots back. @@.macy;"he picked the saddest Critter on the wall."@@ @@.vincent;"Is he sad?"@@ Vincent asks cautiously, like he's trying to decide if he should be offended or not. @@.player;"No,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"He's just quiet."@@ Macy snatches the lore card from you like she has a legal right to it. @@.macy;"Quiet is one way to put it. Vulnerable Vivian is literally the least popular Quirky Critter."@@ @@.vincent;"Seriously?"@@ Vincent asks, eyebrows shooting up. Macy nods with the confidence of someone who's definitely seen the fandom statistics. @@.macy;"By far. Like, it's not even close."@@ Jasper makes a sympathetic sound. @@.jasper;"Damn."@@ Vincent's mouth opens, then closes again, and you can see the exact moment it hurts his feelings. It's just kinda sad, like someone just told him his favorite niche band has five listeners. @@.vincent;"...Oh,"@@ Vincent says carefully. You shoot Macy a look. @@.player;"Why would you say that out loud?"@@ @@.macy;"Because it's true,"@@ Macy says, unapologetic. @@.macy;"People have no taste. They just choose Jubilant Julia because she's cute."@@ @@.jasper;"The only people that have taste are those who like the same things I do,"@@ Jasper says. @@.vincent;"So what you're saying is... I would not survive as a Quirky Critter,"@@ Vincent says. @@.macy;"Exactly!"@@ Macy says. Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"Thank you?"@@ You glare at Macy again. @@.player;"You're being mean."@@ @@.macy;"I'm just being realistic,"@@ Macy corrects. Then she looks back at the lore on the card, eyes scanning fast. @@.macy;"Okay, but Vivian actually has some good lore. Vulnerable Vivian is an art and history nerd who's really good at academics. He's, like, top of his class. He gets stressed easily but he's always prepared. He takes school seriously because he thinks he //has// to."@@ Vincent's face goes pink. @@.vincent;"That's... quite a lot."@@ @@.macy;"It says here that he's trying to open up more and actually have fun because he realized he spent too much of his teen years studying and stressing."@@ Vincent goes very still, like the words land a little too neatly. It's too accurate. Jasper watches Vincent's face, then looks at you like he can already tell what you're thinking. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, very carefully, @@.player;"this is literally—"@@ @@.macy;"No,"@@ Macy says, shutting you down. @@.macy;"Don't."@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"Say it, $name."@@ Vincent looks between you and the pin, bracing himself for what is sure to come. @@.vincent;"$name..."@@ You hold the pin right next to Vincent's face. @@.player;"This is literally you."@@ @@.vincent;"It is //not// literally me!"@@ Vincent says, bursting out laughing instantly. @@.player;"It //is//,"@@ you insist. @@.player;"It's literally a guy with glasses who likes history and art and is good at academics and spent all his teen years studying and is trying to have fun more—"@@ @@.vincent;"Lots of people are like that,"@@ Vincent says quickly. @@.vincent;"That's a whole category of person."@@ @@.jasper;"Indeed, the nerd category,"@@ Jasper says, pretending to be wise. Vincent shoots him a look. @@.vincent;"Shut up."@@ You're outnumbered. Vincent is literally denying his own pinsona, Jasper thinks this is the funniest thing to ever happen in all of history, and Macy is enjoying your suffering. @@.player;"Whatever,"@@ you mutter, defeated. @@.vincent;"Good choice, by the way,"@@ Vincent says, voice lighter again now that you've stopped trying to expose the pin conspiracy. @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you murmur. Inside, though, the Critter Conspiracy is still well and alive. <<elseif $d23quirkycritters is 4>>\ You hover for a few more seconds, your eyes bouncing between all the little faces that are a little too familiar. But then your hand ends up just going for the purple one. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, holding it up. @@.player;"I'm getting Ambiguous Alice."@@ Macy immediately recoils. @@.macy;"Ew. Why would you pick //her//?"@@ Jasper snorts. @@.jasper;"Macy hates everything, news at eleven."@@ @@.macy;"No, like, she's //weird//,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"She looks like she'd appear in your hallway at 3 in the morning."@@ @@.vincent;"She //does// look like she's about to say something ominous,"@@ Vincent admits. @@.player;"That's the whole appeal,"@@ you mutter, already regretting having said that out loud. Macy flips the backing card over fast. @@.macy;"Okay, so, Ambiguous Alice lore. Since you insisted on being strange."@@ @@.player;"I'm not strange,"@@ you say. @@.macy;"Too late for that,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"Anyway, everyone at Quirky Critters High School is scared of her."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.macy;"Yeah,"@@ Macy says, nodding like this is common knowledge. @@.macy;"There's literally a mini-comic where she walks into the cafeteria and the entire lunch line goes dead silent. Like people just stop chewing."@@ @@.jasper;"This line is so damn dramatic,"@@ Jasper says. Vincent's eyes widen a little. @@.vincent;"Why are they scared of her?"@@ @@.macy;"Because they think she's a witch,"@@ Macy says, dead serious. @@.macy;"Which is funny, 'cause she totally is."@@ Your stomach does the thing again. @@.macy;"Fans complain about her though, they say she 'aura farms' too much."@@ @@.player;"She what?"@@ you ask. @@.macy;"She aura farms!"@@ Macy repeats like you're the slow one. @@.macy;"She stands there being mysterious and people get intimidated. Like she'll show up, tilt her head, say one vague sentence, and then disappear. And everyone spends the rest of the day all horrified."@@ @@.vincent;"That's... definitely a character archetype,"@@ Vincent says, nodding slowly. Your brain is screaming Aurora, and you're unable to hold it in anymore. @@.player;"...That is //Aurora//."@@ @@.vincent;"No it's not,"@@ Vincent says, sighing. @@.player;"It //is//,"@@ you insist, keeping your voice low even though the urge to yell is strong. @@.player;"Everyone at school is scared of Aurora. People actually call her a witch."@@ Macy rolls her eyes hard. @@.macy;"That's because she's weird, $name. She's not actually a witch."@@ @@.jasper;"I will admit, she //does// aura farm,"@@ Jasper says, totally confident. @@.macy;"Yeah, she's always mysterious and quiet and staring off into the distance,"@@ Macy says. @@.vincent;"She does that thing where she says one sentence and walks away before anyone can respond,"@@ Vincent says, smirking. @@.vincent;"She //is// scary, but that doesn't mean she's magic. Magic doesn't exist. I think you're just spiraling, $name. Ambiguous Alice is just a character."@@ @@.player;"Vincent... they're one and the same,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Have you seen Aurora in the hallways? She just stands there sometimes and people walk around her like she's a cursed object."@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"Yeah, that's because she looks like she would hex you."@@ @@.macy;"It's just vibes, not magic,"@@ Macy says. You bite your tongue so hard that you literally taste some blood. Not magic. Right. Sure. Yeah. Definitely. But no matter what you say, they're just going to keep acting like you're losing it. So... you give up. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you mutter, taking the pin. @@.player;"Fine. Whatever. I'm crazy, this is all normal, and nothing is weird."@@ Macy pats your arm like you're a toddler having a meltdown. @@.macy;"Good! Acceptance at last."@@ @@.vincent;"You'll be fine, $name,"@@ Vincent says, smiling. @@.vincent;"Just make sure you remember magic isn't real."@@ You let out a quiet breath and accept your fate, even as you can feel your mana pulsing in your veins. <<elseif $d23quirkycritters is 5>>\ You hesitate for half a second before grabbing the pin that's Jordan-coded. The unimpressed face with the stare and the tiny little cup. It's all too cute. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, holding it up. @@.player;"This one."@@ Macy's reaction is immediate and violent. @@.macy;"Ew. Jonathan."@@ @@.jasper;"If Macy hates your choice, it means you made a good choice,"@@ Jasper says. @@.vincent;"He //does// kind of look unpleasant,"@@ Vincent says, staring at Jonathan's face. <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ @@.player;"He's not unpleasant,"@@ you say automatically, then immediately regret it because now you sound defensive. @@.player;"He's just, you know. Whatever."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"Yeah, he very well could be,"@@ you say. <</if>>\ Macy snatches the card from your hand anyway, because apparently consent doesn't exist in her world. @@.macy;"Okay. Since you made this choice, you're getting the lore."@@ You already know you're about to hear something that makes your skin crawl. Macy clears her throat like she's about to deliver a dramatic reading. @@.macy;"Judgmental Jonathan is the star quarterback at Quirky Critters High."@@ @@.jasper;"Of course he is,"@@ Jasper says, nodding. Vincent hums. @@.vincent;"That tracks with the vibe."@@ @@.macy;"But plot twist!"@@ Macy exclaims. @@.macy;"He only does football because his family pressured him into it."@@ You go still. Macy keeps reading with enthusiasm. @@.macy;"His true passion lies in theater."@@ Your mouth opens before you can stop it. @@.player;"Okay, no—"@@ @@.vincent;"$name,"@@ Vincent cuts in without any hesitation. @@.vincent;"Don't."@@ @@.jasper;"Don't do the thing,"@@ Jasper says. Macy narrows her eyes at you. @@.macy;"If you say 'this reminds me of someone,' I'm actually gonna throw you into the goth section."@@ You swallow the rest of your sentence because you cannot say it out loud. You can't be the guy standing in a store full of pins and backpacks saying that this Quirky Critter is your classmate. @@.macy;"Okay, continuing on, he's also a mega tsundere,"@@ Macy adds. Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"Of course he is."@@ @@.vincent;"The expression fits,"@@ Vincent says, nodding. @@.vincent;"He even looks annoyed."@@ @@.player;"Jordan's a tsundere,"@@ you say. Macy blinks. @@.macy;"Jordan?"@@ Vincent frowns. @@.vincent;"I don't think Jordan even likes people enough to be a tsundere."@@ @@.jasper;"He's all tsun, no dere,"@@ Jasper says, nodding firmly. @@.macy;"Exactly,"@@ Macy says, triumphant. @@.macy;"Jordan isn't a tsundere. Jonathan is. Jonathan secretly cares. Jordan just looks like he'd rather die than have a conversation."@@ You bite the inside of your cheek so hard you taste blood. You have to swallow the urge to tell them they literally don't know what they're talking about. Jordan is in theater, and you've seen the way he lights up when he talks about it. But you can't. So you just take the pin with slow resignation. @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"I'm just being hysteric over this completely normal pin line."@@ @@.jasper;"Welcome to reality,"@@ Jasper mutters. Vincent pats your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. @@.vincent;"You'll survive, $name."@@ @@.player;"...Yeah,"@@ you say quietly. <<elseif $d23quirkycritters is 6>>\ You stare at Earnest Emma for a couple seconds too long, like your brain is buffering at seeing yourself, but then you just commit. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm getting her."@@ Jasper immediately snorts. @@.jasper;"He's getting himself."@@ @@.player;"I'm not getting myself,"@@ you argue, already defensive. @@.player;"I'm buying a pin. A normal pin that has nothing to do with me because I'm a normal person."@@ Macy leans in, clearly suspicious. @@.macy;"Of course you picked Earnest Emma."@@ @@.vincent;"$name... you really did pick the one that looks like you,"@@ Vincent says, smiling because he can't help it. @@.player;"It does NOT look like me,"@@ you insist, even as you look at it again and it very much does. @@.jasper;"She's literally winking at you like she knows,"@@ Jasper says, pointing at the pin's face. @@.player;"Stop saying that,"@@ you mutter, even though you like it. Macy makes a long suffering noise like you personally ruined her day. @@.macy;"Okay. I guess you picked the protagonist."@@ @@.player;"She's the protagonist?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.macy;"Yeah, Earnest Emma is the main character,"@@ Macy says, nodding like it's obvious. @@.macy;"The whole line basically revolves around her."@@ @@.jasper;"$name has main character syndrome,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.jasper;"Called it."@@ @@.vincent;"That does kind of fit you,"@@ Vincent says, tilting his head. Macy is already flipping the pin's backing card over and reading like she's about to drop a plot twist. @@.macy;"Okay, Earnest Emma lore,"@@ she says, voice turning dramatic. @@.macy;"So. Fun fact. She wasn't always Earnest Emma. She used to be ''Earnest Evan''."@@ You go still. @@.vincent;"Wait, what?"@@ Vincent asks, blinking. Macy nods and continues explaining. @@.macy;"Yeah. In the Quirky Critters comics, the protagonist starts as a guy. Earnest Evan, a super sweet guy who always does his best."@@ @@.player;"...Okay,"@@ you mutter, your throat suddenly feeling dry. @@.macy;"And then,"@@ Macy says, way too pleased with herself, @@.macy;"he gets cursed by a mysterious witch and turns into a girl."@@ You feel your whole face twist into disbelief. @@.macy;"It's like gender-bender. He becomes Earnest Emma and has to deal with it while still being the protagonist and doing normal protagonist shenanigans."@@ Your brain is screaming so loudly it's actually hard to hear the mall background noise. @@.vincent;"$name, you're making that face again."@@ Vincent says, laughing a little. @@.vincent;"You alright?"@@ @@.player;"I'm not making any face,"@@ you say, immediately defensive. @@.player;"What face?"@@ @@.vincent;"The face where you look like you think the universe is personally messing with you,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"It's a pin. You're fine."@@ @@.jasper;"Yeah, dude,"@@ Jasper says, nodding. @@.jasper;"You're not Earnest Emma."@@ @@.macy;"He wishes he were,"@@ Macy says, pointing at the pin on your bag. @@.player;"Yeah, it's just wild,"@@ you say, forcing out a fake laugh. @@.player;"Crazy coincidence that we... look alike."@@ @@.jasper;"Main character moment,"@@ Jasper comments. @@.macy;"Okay, anyway, I hate your choice,"@@ Macy says with a sigh. @@.macy;"It's too obvious that you're going for the protagonist."@@ You adjust your backpack strap again as though you can shake the weirdness loose, but you can't. @@.player;"Cool,"@@ you mumble, swallowing the lump in your throat. @@.player;"Guess I'm just a crazy fan who sees myself in Quirky Critters."@@ @@.jasper;"Bro accepted his fate,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.vincent;"You're so dramatic about this line of characters,"@@ Vincent says to you, shaking his head. @@.macy;"Well //Emma's// just kind of like that,"@@ Macy jokes. <</if>> <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - Pin Choice">><</button>>

Macy takes you down another aisle like she's hunting something specific, and you're kinda convinced she's just moving on pure instinct at this point. Jasper's strolling behind her like he's seen worse, although he probably //has//. Vincent's looking around with interest, like he's cataloging the store in his head for future reference. Then Macy stops. But instead of gasping or screaming or complaining (as always), she just goes dead silent. That alone is a warning sign. @@.player;"...What,"@@ you say carefully, leaning around her shoulder. And there it is! A "section" so tiny it doesn't even really qualify as a section. More like a sad corner of the store where hope goes to die. There's a little shelf about waist height, and on it is a single pin. Even sadder is the fact that it's knocked sideways like it's ashamed of itself. It's not even cute or quirky or anything. It's literally just a heavy metal badge that says ''SOUTHERN PACIFIC'' around the edge, with a big ''SP'' in the middle. The whole thing looks solid, like you could drop it on someone's foot and ruin their whole week. It's also the only thing here. No other pins featuring trains. No variety. Just Southern Pacific. Jasper stares at it for a full second and goes, @@.jasper;"Is this it?"@@ @@.vincent;"Is that Southern Pacific?"@@ Vincent asks. @@.vincent;"They're not even around anymore."@@ Macy points at it. @@.macy;"Yep."@@ @@.player;"That's the whole section?"@@ you ask. @@.macy;"That's the whole section,"@@ Macy repeats, voice flat with disgust. @@.macy;"That is the entire train section."@@ @@.jasper;"Man, I can't believe there even is a train section,"@@ Jasper mutters. @@.macy;"You guys wanna know why this exists?"@@ Macy says, vibrating excitedly. @@.jasper;"Nope,"@@ Jasper says. Vincent, for some reason, says politely, @@.vincent;"Yes, actually."@@ @@.macy;"Let's go!"@@ Macy says, excited to have an excuse to not be reasonable. @@.macy;"Story time."@@ She folds her arms and stares at the pin like it's a personal enemy of hers. @@.macy;"There was this guy and he was ''weird''. He literally looked like he crawled out of the internet and never went back home. You could tell he argues about politics with strangers and thinks deodorant is optional."@@ @@.player;"Macy, you're just being insulting,"@@ you say. @@.macy;"I'm being accurate,"@@ she insists. @@.macy;"And the guy was OBSESSED with trains."@@ @@.jasper;"I mean, it could've just been a normal hobby, no?"@@ Jasper asks. Macy's stare is deadly. @@.macy;"It is NOT normal. He was so creepy, like genuinely. He'd show up in here every day like a ghost that was haunting this poor small store."@@ @@.vincent;"That's kind of scary,"@@ Vincent mutters. @@.macy;"Tell me about it,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"He'd wander in, look around, and then find the owner."@@ Your raise your eyebrows. @@.player;"The owner?"@@ Macy's whole expression changes, like she's talking about someone famous. @@.macy;"The owner is like... the coolest person ever. Everyone loves her. She's calm, she's stylish, she's funny, she's basically the reason this store even has a pulse."@@ @@.jasper;"Macy, are you describing the owner or describing your childhood idol?"@@ Jasper asks, snorting. @@.macy;"Shut up,"@@ Macy snaps. @@.macy;"Anyway, the owner is literally the nicest person alive. So she's just running her store, being iconic like the diva she is, and then this train guy shows up and starts bothering her."@@ Vincent winces. @@.vincent;"How badly?"@@ Macy squints like she's reliving trauma. @@.macy;"Bad. Like he could not take any social cues. He'd walk up to her counter, standing a little too close, then ask her why she doesn't have any train pins."@@ @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you say, covering your mouth. @@.macy;"And the owner just smiled politely because she's a professional,"@@ Macy says, voice suddenly serene as if she's describing a damn saint. @@.macy;"She'd go, 'Oh, we don't really do trains, sorry! The demand isn't quite there. We have lots of other stuff though!'"@@ @@.vincent;"That's a perfectly reasonable answer,"@@ Vincent says, nodding. @@.macy;"It is, but the train guy would NOT accept it,"@@ Macy says, voice dripping with disgust. @@.macy;"He'd start rambling about diesel locomotives and Southern Pacific like it was his damn religion. And every day he'd come in, look around, and ask why there was no train pin. Every. Single. Day."@@ You grimace. @@.player;"Ew."@@ @@.macy;"It was ew,"@@ Macy agrees immediately. @@.macy;"And he was so pathetic about it too. He'd say he hated this store and the owner and that he was disrespected and storm out. But then guess who's in the store the next day? Train guy is. At the counter every time like a haunted spirit. Train pin. Train pin. Train pin."@@ @@.player;"I mean, I can't lie, that's kind of dedication,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.macy;"It's not dedication,"@@ Macy says sharply. @@.macy;"It's harassment."@@ @@.vincent;"Okay but, he //did// get it added,"@@ Vincent points out. @@.vincent;"There's something admirable about being that stubborn."@@ @@.jasper;"The man just manifested his reality,"@@ Jasper says. Macy throws her hands up. @@.macy;"All he did was manifest this shitty section."@@ She flicks the pin lightly, and it wobbles, still tilted like it's embarrassed to exist. You straighten it out so it stands properly. The pin instantly looks less pathetic. @@.macy;"Why did you fix it?"@@ Macy asks, staring. @@.player;"I felt bad, I guess,"@@ you say. @@.jasper;"$name just adopted the train pin,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.vincent;"Good, it deserves respect,"@@ Vincent states. Macy makes a gagging sound. @@.macy;"It's about TRAINS."@@ Vincent lifts a finger like he's about to go full nerd. @@.vincent;"Actually.@@ @@.jasper;"Here we go,"@@ Jasper murmurs. Vincent continues anyway, because of course he does. @@.vincent;"Southern Pacific is a pretty big deal historically, especially here in California. They were one of the major railroads on the West Coast. Infrastructure was obviously important for the state's development, especially for moving freight."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Vinny, why do you know this?"@@ Vincent looks faintly embarrassed, but also pleased. @@.vincent;"I like transportation history. It's part of history history, after all."@@ @@.jasper;"What kind of trains did they even use?"@@ Jasper asks. @@.vincent;"I believe they primarily used diesel-electric locomotives,"@@ Vincent says. Macy stares. @@.macy;"A what?"@@ Vincent smiles like he's delighted she asked. @@.vincent;"Diesel-electric. Most modern diesel locomotives use a diesel engine to generate electricity, which then powers electric traction motors."@@ @@.player;"That's actually kind of cool,"@@ you murmur. @@.jasper;"$name, no,"@@ Jasper says firmly. @@.jasper;"You're into trains a little too much right now."@@ Vincent keeps going, clearly in his element now. @@.vincent;"It's efficient for heavy loads and long distances. Southern Pacific had some ''really'' iconic paint schemes. They had one called Daylight that was red, orange, and black. A lot of people, including me, really love the look."@@ Macy points at him. @@.macy;"Vincent. Vinny. Sinclair. Why are you defending train guy?"@@ @@.vincent;"I'm not defending train guy,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"I'm defending trains."@@ @@.jasper;"Hmmm, I guess trains haven't done anything wrong,"@@ Jasper comments, nodding solemnly. Macy puts her hands on her hips and stares at the shelf like she's about to fght it. @@.macy;"I can't believe there's an entire section for one pin. This is what happens when you let one weird guy win."@@ @@.vincent;"Or it could be what happens when you listen to your community,"@@ Vincent offers, smiling. @@.jasper;"It seems Vincent is on team trains."@@ @@.player;"Should I... get the train pin?"@@ you ask, glancing between the three of them. Macy immediately recoils. @@.macy;"NO YOU ARE NOT."@@ Jasper laughs. @@.jasper;"Yeah, not happening."@@ @@.vincent;"I mean, I would respect whoever had the courage to buy it,"@@ Vincent says calmly. @@.vincent;"There are collectors of railroad memorabilia and the Southern Pacific Railroad was pretty influential in western United States—"@@ Macy cuts him off by making a loud buzzer noise. @@.macy;"Wrong! Incorrect. Shut up."@@ @@.jasper;"Don't even think about it, alright, $name?"@@ Jasper says. @@.player;"I'm not,"@@ you say. @@.jasper;"You are,"@@ Jasper insists. @@.jasper;"I can see the way you're staring at it, it's like you want it."@@ @@.macy;"You don't want it,"@@ Macy states for you. @@.vincent;"Well, let's ask him for his opinion,"@@ Vincent says, looking at you gently. @@.vincent;"Do you want it, $name?"@@ You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again. @@.player;"I just think it's funny."@@ @@.vincent;"To be fair... it would be kind of iconic to have the only train pin in the store,"@@ Vincent says, mouth twitching in amusement. Macy gasps in betrayal. @@.macy;"VINCENT!"@@ @@.vincent;"I'm not saying you should,"@@ Vincent says instantly. @@.vincent;"I'm just saying it in hypothetical terms. The thing's a weird little piece of store lore now."@@ @@.jasper;"You're sounding like train guy, Vinny,"@@ Jasper says. Vincent sighs. @@.vincent;"No I don't."@@ Macy folds her arms, clearly determined to win this. @@.macy;"If you buy this pin, you are validating train guy's entire existence. $name, don't do it. Don't be the guy who buys it."@@ @@.jasper;"Don't adopt the train pin,"@@ Jasper adds. @@.jasper;"Let it die."@@ @@.player;"Hmmm,"@@ you say. @@.macy;"$name, $name, $name,"@@ Macy says. @@.macy;"Do you hear me? Do. Not. Buy. The. Train. Pin."@@ You glance at the pin one more time. It's so bold. So dumb. So completely out of place among all the cute stuff. The lore is idiotic as well, some weird guy who badgered the owner into adding it. And somehow, that makes it tempting. So, what do you do? <<button "Take the Southern Pacific Pin" "Day 23 - Pin (Train) 2">>\<<set $d23train to true>><<unlockBackpackAccessory "pin" "southern_pacific">><<modifyBackpack "pin" "southern_pacific" $temp4>>\<</button>> <<button "Leave it there and walk away" "Day 23 - Pin (Train) 2">>\<<set $d23train to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $d23train is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D23TrainPin">>\ <<set $temp4 to $temp4 + 1>>\ You stare at the pin for another second. Macy and Jasper are acting like it's a cursed artifact that'll end your bloodline if you touch it, but that just makes you want it more. @@.player;"I'm getting it,"@@ you say casually, plucking it off the shelf. Macy makes a sound that is not human while Jasper gasps so loudly it echoes. @@.macy;"NO!"@@ Macy says, voice cracking like she's watching you walk to your certain doom. @@.macy;"NO!"@@ Jasper grabs his forehead like he's in a soap opera. @@.jasper;"HE'S GONE. WE'VE LOST HIM."@@ You blink at them. @@.player;"Guys."@@ Macy lurshes toward you. @@.macy;"$name... sweetie... baby... listen to me. Put it down. Put it down right now. You're not thinking clearly. That pin is possessed."@@ Jasper points at the giant ''SP'' logo like it's glaring at him. @@.jasper;"It got him. The train guy's spirit has entered our friend's body. I can see it in his eyes."@@ @@.player;"I literally just picked it up,"@@ you say, holding it out a little. It's heavier than you expected, and the metal has a nice, solid weight. Macy stares at it. @@.macy;"Why is it so shiny?"@@ @@.jasper;"It's trying to lure you,"@@ Jasper whispers dramatically. @@.jasper;"It's a trap."@@ @@.vincent;"It's just that it's made out of high-quality metal, not cheap enamel,"@@ Vincent says. @@.macy;"Don't start with your train propaganda,"@@ Macy demands. Jasper shakes his head, still in full mourning mode. @@.jasper;"Vinny, you can stop. He's in too deep. He's already picturing himself at a train museum. He's already saying 'locomotive' in his head."@@ @@.player;"I am not,"@@ you say, although your voice wobbles a little. @@.macy;"This is how it starts you guys,"@@ Macy says, clutching her chest. @@.player;"All I'm saying is the pin is kinda iconic, alright?"@@ you say, squinting at it. Jasper lets out a fake sob. @@.jasper;"Iconic? That's train guy vocabulary."@@ Macy makes a choking noise and starts dramatically fanning herself like she's about to faint. @@.macy;"Oh my God. Oh my God. He's speaking in Train."@@ Vincent sighs, slipping into calm explanation mode. @@.vincent;"It's a pin for Southern Pacific, which //is// pretty iconic. It's one of the major railroads that helped connect California's cities and ports. A lot of agriculture and industry depended on rail lines like that, you know."@@ @@.macy;"I don't ''care'' whether it helped California,"@@ Macy hisses. @@.macy;"I care that $name's getting a symbol of //that guy//."@@ @@.jasper;"This is how a second train guy is born,"@@ Jasper weeps. @@.jasper;"I'm watching it happen live."@@ @@.player;"You two are so damn dramatic,"@@ you mutter, chuckling. @@.player;"You guys should join theater. You're more dramatic than most of the people there."@@ Macy gasps. @@.macy;"Don't call us dramatic when we're trying to save your soul."@@ Jasper collapses limply against the wall. @@.jasper;"Tell my family I loved them."@@ Vincent chuckles under his breath, and you can swear he looks almost pleased with the choice. @@.vincent;"Honestly, this is a pretty good pin. The design is clean and the contrast is nice. Not to mention the quality of the material."@@ @@.macy;"You're the only person here who thinks this is normal,"@@ Macy says, glaring at Vincent. @@.vincent;"I'm the normal one and you two are the overreactors,"@@ Vincent says, totally calm. @@.vincent;"Plus, it's just a pin. It's not like $name bought a conductor hat and uniform."@@ @@.jasper;"Don't give him ideas,"@@ Jasper begs weakly. @@.player;"Relax, relax,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm only buying it ironically. I'm still me."@@ @@.macy;"Prove it,"@@ Macy demands. You pause. @@.player;"How the hell would I do that?"@@ @@.jasper;"Say something non-train,"@@ Jasper wheezes. You think for a second. @@.player;"Uh... yaoi."@@ Macy instantly recoils. @@.macy;"EW. Why would you taint the perfection of two boys in love with... with //trains//?"@@ She sniffles loudly. @@.macy;"This is the worst day of my life."@@ Jasper pats your shoulder. @@.jasper;"Rest in peace, $name. We enjoyed the two hours we had with you before you got possessed."@@ Vincent follows behind, shaking his head like he's surrounded by lunatics. Which, to be fair, he may just be. <<else>>\ You stare at the pin for one last second, letting the giant ''SP'' glare back at you. It's almost as if it's daring you to make a terrible decision. Then you exhale through your nose, shake your head, and take a step backward. @@.player;"Nope,"@@ you say firmly. @@.player;"I am ''not'' doing it."@@ Macy's face changes instantly, like someone just pulled her back from the very edge of a cliff. She throws both hands up toward the ceiling. @@.macy;"THANK YOU,"@@ she blurts. @@.macy;"Oh my God. Thank you. Thank you to the universe. Thank you to whatever higher power is up there that stopped you from becoming a train person."@@ Jasper lets out this dramatic, relieved exhale and claps a hand over his heart. @@.jasper;"Macy, we made it. We survived. Nobody got corrupted by the railroad industry."@@ You start walking away from the sad little shelf, and Macy follows quickly. @@.macy;"I am ''so'' sorry, $name,"@@ Macy says, not even sounding sarcastic for once. @@.macy;"I fully apologize. I shouldn't have brought you over here. I only came to this section so I could laugh at train guy and feel surperior and then you started looking at it like you were about to adopt it and I got genuinely scared like oh my God I was so scared."@@ @@.player;"It's not that deep,"@@ you mutter, chuckling. @@.macy;"It was deep for me,"@@ Macy insists. @@.macy;"I saw my whole life flash before my eyes. I thought you would buy it 'as a joke' and then become the type of person who says 'locomotive' unironically."@@ @@.vincent;"I mean, it's an important distinction, though,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"Locomotives are the powered engine while trains are the completed assembly after all the carriages and wagons are connected."@@ @@.jasper;"Exhibit A, $name,"@@ Jasper says, snorting. @@.jasper;"You could've been on a forum at 3 in the morning arguing about rail gauges."@@ @@.player;"I wasn't gonna do that,"@@ you say, but even you don't sound fully convinced. @@.macy;"You hesitated for a little too long,"@@ Macy says, horrified. @@.vincent;"It wasn't really that bad,"@@ Vincent says, believing himself to be the only sane person in this group. @@.vincent;"It's a pin, and a nice one at that. Everyone acted like it was going to summon the train guy."@@ Jasper deadpans, @@.jasper;"It would."@@ @@.vincent;"Southern Pacific had a huge influence on California. Like, a lot of early growth and industry depended on being able to move goods quickly across the state. Railroads connected ports, farming regions, cities, just everything. It shaped the development of our great state."@@ @@.macy;"Why are you trying to make the train pin sound noble?"@@ Macy questions, squinting at him. @@.jasper;"Vincent is the only person who could romanticize freight,"@@ Jasper says, laughing. @@.vincent;"Freight is important,"@@ Vincent says without missing a beat. @@.macy;"Maybe Vinny actually //is// train guy,"@@ Macy says, suspicious. @@.macy;"It's starting to all make sense."@@ @@.jasper;"He's a spy!"@@ Jasper says, shocked. @@.jasper;"He's infiltrated our cool group to make us weird train fans."@@ @@.vincent;"I'm not train guy,"@@ Vincent says, huffing a laugh. @@.jasper;"Prove it then,"@@ Jasper says immediately. @@.vincent;"Well, for one, I know when to stop talking."@@ You, Macy, and Jasper stare at him. @@.vincent;"Okay, fine,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"Maybe I'm a little //like// train guy. But I am not //the// train guy."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - Pin Choice">><</button>>

<div class="note">\ <img src="img/author/authorsnote.png">\ The Anime Section will have pins of characters from shows/games that are currently popular in the real world! The Character Section will have pins of the A Mirror's Curse characters. The Goth Section has some pins of Goththan. The Train Section has a single train pin in it that I was harrassed into adding. </div>\ <<if $temp4 < $d23pinnum>> <<if $temp is false>>\ <<button "Go to the Anime Section" "Day 23 - Pin (Anime) 1">>\<<set $temp to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_temp" "Go to the Anime Section" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp1 is false>>\ <<button "Go to the Quirky Critters Section" "Day 23 - Pin (Quirky Critters) 1">>\<<set $temp1 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_temp1" "Go to the Quirky Critters Section" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp2 is false>>\ <<button "Go to the Goth Section" "Day 23 - Pin (Goth) 1">>\<<set $temp2 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_temp2" "Go to the Goth Section" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<if $temp3 is false>>\ <<button "Go to the Train Section" "Day 23 - Pin (Train) 1">>\<<set $temp3 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D23_temp3" "Go to the Train Section" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - 33">><</button>> <</if>>\

You let your focus drift toward Vincent, and he notices almost immediately. Not because you make it obvious. If anything, you think you were pretty subtle about it. But Vincent is hyper-aware of when attention lands on him, like he's tuned to it by instinct. He looks up from his paper, blinks once, then pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose even though they're exactly where they should be. @@.vincent;"...Is something wrong?"@@ he asks. @@.player;"No,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm just drawing you."@@ There's a full second where his brain just freezes. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says. Then, quieter, @@.vincent;"Oh."@@ He straightens in his chair, then immediately realizes that looks weird and slouches again, which somehow makes him look even //more// awkward. He smooths down the front of his sweater vest like it might have wrinkles. Spoiler alert: it doesn't. @@.vincent;"Do I, um, uh..."@@ He gestures vaguely at himself. @@.vincent;"Do you need me to do anything for you?"@@ @@.player;"You're doing great already,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"That's... deeply suspicious,"@@ he replies, but he smiles anyway. You take a moment to look at him closely. Not in a creepy way, of course. Just being observant. He's dressed neatly, like he always is. Light-colored sweater vest with a subtle pattern, button down-underneath, green tie. There are little pins on his vest too. He looks like someone who belongs in a library, but not in a boring way. In a cozy way. You notice how his hands are almost constantly moving. Adjusting his glasses, tugging lightly as his sleeve, tapping the pencil against his cheek when he thinks no one's watching. His foot bounces just a little under the table. He always leans forward when he talks about something he's passionate about, then catches himself and pulls back. Vincent clears his throat. @@.vincent;"Sorry,"@@ he says automatically. @@.vincent;"Am I moving too much? I do kinda do that..."@@ @@.player;"No worries,"@@ you reply. @@.player;"You're fine."@@ @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says, relaxing a little at that. @@.vincent;"I mean... I can stop if you need me to."@@ @@.player;"I really don't,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"I'm just looking, Vincent."@@ That makes him pause, mulling it over for a while before nodding and letting out a small breath. @@.vincent;"Okay. Looking is allowed."@@ He sits there for a second, clearly unsure what to do with himself now that he's aware of it. @@.vincent;"This class is really different from what I'm used to, $name,"@@ he says after a moment. @@.vincent;"Not in a bad way. It's just... different."@@ @@.player;"How so?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"I feel like in my other classes, I always know what I'm supposed to be doing,"@@ Vincent explains. @@.vincent;"There's a problem and there's a right answer to that problem. Here it's more like... you just do whatever you want and figure it out yourself."@@ @@.player;"I mean... that's kind of the point of art, isn't it?"@@ you say, chuckling. He smiles a little at that. @@.vincent;"I think I like it. Even if it is mildly terrifying."@@ @@.player;"Mildly?"@@ you tease. @@.vincent;"Okay,"@@ he admits, @@.vincent;"more than mildly."@@ You glance down at the paper, then back up at him once more. There are a lot of directions you could go, and none of them are wrong. <<button "Draw him as a historical emperor" "Day 23 - Vincent 2">>\<<set $d23vincent to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincent" "Draw him as a historical emperor" "story">><</button>> <<button "Make him into an overworked scholar" "Day 23 - Vincent 2">>\<<set $d23vincent to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincent" "Make him into an overworked scholar" "story">><</button>> <<button "Give Vincent attractive confidence" "Day 23 - Vincent 2">>\<<set $d23vincent to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D23_vincent" "Give Vincent attractive confidence" "story">><</button>>

<<set $acomposition to Math.clamp($acomposition + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $d23vincent is 0>>\ You stare at the page for a second and come up with an idea. Vincent has French ancestry. He likes history. What if Vincent Sinclair was a historical figure? An emperor, perhaps. You lower your pencil and start fast, because five minutes is not enough time to second-guess yourself. You sketch a stiff, upright figure first. This Vincent stands tall, way taller than he actually is, with squared shoulders and a posture that suggests authority. You add a long coat, something vaguely imperial, with exaggerated tails that flair out super dramatically for no damn reason. The buttons are just dots. There are way too many of them, but you don't bother to count. You add epaulettes on the shoulders, making them comically big. One is clearly larger than the other, but you decide that's a feature, not a mistake. The head comes next. You keep it simple: Vincent's soft face, but trying very hard to look dignified. His eyes are serious. His mouth is a straight line that makes him look like he's concentrating really hard. You give him a big powdered wig, just because it's funny. You hesitate, then add a tiny, extremely unconvincing mustache. It doesn't belong there, of course, but you keep it anyway. You give him a tiny imperial crown that's sitting crookedly on his head. It's barely staying on there, looking like it's about to slide off. He's about one strong breeze or bump away from losing it forever. To really sell the theme, you draw him holding a rolled-up map in one hand. The map is just squiggles and triangles. You add tall boots, so he can be tall for once. As a final touch, you sketch a dramatic sash across his chest that's meant to read EMPEROR. Unfortunately, you run out of space halfway through, so it became EMPERO. Vincent as a historical French emperor, leading the nation to greatness. This is your masterpiece. This is what you'll be remembered for. <<elseif $d23vincent is 1>>\ You look at the page, then at Vincent, and your brain jumps somewhere impractical. Ancient Greece. You drop your pencil to the paper and start fast, because you don't have a ton of time and you already know this idea is going to get away from you if you think too hard about it. You sketch Vincent hunched slightly forward with tired shoulders, like he's been reading for hours and forgot time exists. You give him a stool instead of a chair simply because it feels right. His feet are planted awkwardly, with sandals on instead of shoes. You add a toga next. Or at least your best attempt at a toga. It's basically a sheet, but you ignore that. One shoulder's covered, the other's sort of exposed. The folds go everywhere because you don't understand how fabric actually works. You scribble in wrinkles to imply age and stress. Vincent isn't a rich philosopher in this world. He's the Ancient Greek equivalent of a struggling grad student. You draw his head next, keeping it simple. Glasses don't exist yet, but you still give him Vincent's face. You make sure to make his eyes slightly worried and his eyebrows drawn just a bit too high, as if he's concerned. Then come the details. You give him three scrolls. One unfurled in his hands, another slipping off his lap, a third rolling away dramatically. You scribble tiny fake letters that kind of look Greek. None of them are real, and you're pretty sure the country of Greece would be disappointed by it. Eh, whatever. You add eyebags too. Deep dark eyebags. Then a tiny candle beside him, flame crooked as if it's been burning way too long. You add a stack of stone tablets behind him too. As an afterthought, you scribble a laurel wreath on his head. Just 'cause it's Greece. The proportions are off, one eye is significantly larger than the other, the toga defies physics, and the scrolls look like noodles. But shit, the //vibe// is unmistakable. Ancient academic Vincent, inventor of stress. <<elseif $d23vincent is 2>>\ You look at the page, then back at Vincent. He's just sitting there, nervously twiddling his fingers. What if something was different? What if Vincent had confidence? You lower your pencil and start quickly, because five minutes is nothing and you don't want to lose the feeling while hesitating. You sketch his outline first with simple, loose lines. He's seated, but unlike how he is in real life, he's not hunched this time. You don't make him any taller or broader than he actually is. You just let him take up the space he usually refuses to. You draw his head next. Again, same face, same features. You don't "fix" anything. You just tilt his head slightly upward instead of tilted downward it always is. His expression in this drawing isn't a worried mess, it's just calm. Comfortable. Like he knows he belongs here and doesn't need to prove it. You give him his glasses, but they sit just right this time. No slipping or adjusting. They're part of him, not something he's apologizing for wearing. His clothes come together in quick strokes. He's not slouching, though. His posture is perfect, standing straight with easy confidence. He seems like he's unapologetic about who he is, unlike the real Vincent. You pause, then add one tiny detail. You darken his eyes a little. Not to be sharper or scarier, but warmer and more focused. It's like he's looking at someone he trusts with all his heart. Someone that he feels safe being seen by. The art isn't perfect, to say the least. The proportions are all over the place, his neck is longer than a giraffe's, and the lines overlap where you changed your mind halfway through. It's clearly beginner-level. But the intent is there. It's Vincent, exactly as he is, just with some confidence. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 23 - Choice">>\<</button>>

You push the door open to the Academic Club and step inside. The room looks the same as always. Mismatched desks, nerds everywhere, and a few posters about "study habits." Vincent's already there, sitting there with a book. He's got a focused expression, but he doesn't seem stressed. He's probably reading a book for fun then. When he looks up and sees you, his face softens. @@.vincent;"Hey,"@@ he says, fiddling with his glasses. He's still getting used to the new pair. You can tell because he keeps touching them like he's checking if they're real. @@.vincent;"You made it."@@ @@.player;"Just barely,"@@ you say, dropping into the seat next to him. Your new backpack hits the floor with a dull thump. @@.player;"I'm functioning today, though. Just barely. I at least woke up on the first alarm today. I deserve a medal for that."@@ Vincent gives a small smile. @@.vincent;"That's impressive. Yesterday was pretty exhausting."@@ @@.player;"It was pretty exhausting,"@@ you repeat, chuckling. @@.player;"In the good way, of course. But I'm still pretty tired now."@@ Vincent laughs quietly. You glance around the room. A couple of other kids are filtering in. There's the low hum of chatter too, as always. Talking about the latest developments in quantum computing or whatever nerds like. And then Max walks in. Your fearless club leader does ''not'' have good energy right now. He goes to the front of the room, eyes scanning the desk, and you can tell something's off. @@.boy;"Alright,"@@ he begins, voice dripping with annoyance. @@.boy;"So. We're not continuing the D&D campaign today."@@ Everyone groans. @@.boy;"What???"@@ @@.girl;"No way."@@ @@.boy;"You're joking."@@ @@.boy;"Bro, we just started!"@@ Someone puts their head down on the desk like they're mourning. Someone else actually makes a dramatic dying noise. Max raises both hands, like he's trying to stop a riot from happening. @@.boy;"Yeah, yeah, I know. Believe me, I know."@@ Vincent's eyebrows lift, glancing at you in surprise. Last week had been really chaotic, and it ended on a fun cliffhanger. You didn't even realize you'd been looking forward to the next part until it got taken away, and now your brain reacts with sadness. Max drags a hand down his face. @@.boy;"We can't do it because someone ratted us out to the advisor."@@ That sets the room on fire. @@.boy;"RATTED OUT?"@@ @@.girl;"WHO DID IT?"@@ @@.boy;"That's snitch behavior."@@ @@.boy;"Actually insane."@@ A girl across the room points at a guy with a chemistry textbook. @@.girl;"It was you, wasn't it? You're always acting like you're too busy for fun."@@ @@.boy;"I didn't rat!"@@ he protests. @@.boy;"I'm not a teacher's pet!"@@ Another voice pipes up: @@.boy;"It was probably Trevor. He literally hates joy."@@ @@.boy;"Trevor's not even here,"@@ someone else says. @@.boy;"That just proves he's guilty. He's fled the scene."@@ Max makes an aggravated sound, slamming his palm down on the desk. @@.boy;"Okay, enough. I don't //care// who it was. I just care that now we can't have nice things."@@ The accusations keep bubbling anyway. Everyone talks over each other, pointing, defending themselves, swearing oaths of innocence. It's like a courtroom drama with nerdy teenagers. Max waits until the noise dips enough that people can hear him again. His jaw is tight. @@.boy;"Here's the deal,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"We are on thin ice now, and if we don't shape up, we're going to have to get supervised by an advisor for the entire duration of the club block."@@ More groaning. A boy in the back throws his hands up. @@.boy;"So what are we even doing, then? Just sitting here?"@@ @@.boy;"Precisely,"@@ Max says. @@.boy;"That is ''exactly'' what we're doing. I have to take care of some stuff this session anyway, so this club doesn't get banned because some admin decided dice were evil."@@ That gets a couple of weak laughs, but it doesn't fix the tragedy. @@.boy;"So, this is a study block,"@@ Max continues. @@.boy;"Do your homework. Study for tests. Read. I really don't care. Just don't do anything that looks like fun, because we're not allowed to enjoy being alive anymore."@@ He scans the room one last time, eyes narrowing. @@.boy;"And if I find out who ratted us out, I will personally make sure you get grouped up for a project with the dumbest person in your class."@@ That gets the room to shut up. Every student alive knows that that's a dark threat. Max nods once, satisfied, and walks out. The door shuts behind him with an annoyed click. For a moment, the room just sits there in stunned silence. Everyone's mourning the loss of imaginary dragons and dumb choices. Then the complaints start again, people grumbling and mumbling. Vincent, on the other hand, is completely unbothered. @@.vincent;"Honestly, a study block is fine with me,"@@ he says. @@.player;"Of course it's fine for you,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.vincent;"I mean... I do need to study,"@@ he says, smiling faintly like he knows exactly how he sounds. @@.vincent;"I love Dungeons and Dragons, but I'm behind on a few things. Especially after all we did yesterday."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you mutter. @@.vincent;"Are you... okay?"@@ Vincent asks, glancing at you. @@.player;"Define okay,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Like, am I alive? Yes, I'm still kicking. Am I mentally stable? Now that's debatable."@@ @@.vincent;"Why's that?"@@ Vincent asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"Auditions for theater,"@@ you respond. @@.player;"I don't know what role I'll get in //Romeo and Juliet//."@@ @@.vincent;"That sounds... scary,"@@ Vincent says. He thinks for a few seconds before leaning in a little, voice quiet so no one else hears. @@.vincent;"If it helps... being nervous means you care. That's not a bad thing."@@ @@.player;"You're starting to sound like Luke,"@@ you mutter, chuckling. Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"That's... not the comparison I want."@@ You snort, and open your mouth to respond when the lights go out. The fluorescent lights turn off, plunging the classroom into instant darkness. The room erupts. @@.boy;"What the hell?"@@ @@.girl;"Did a fuse blow?"@@ @@.boy;"Who turned that off?!"@@ Someone knocks their chair back. Another person yelps as if they're getting attacked. The class that was focused a minute ago is now in a state of pure pandemonium. Vincent's voice is right next to you, sharp with surprise. @@.vincent;"$name?"@@ @@.player;"I'm here,"@@ you respond. A few phones light up across the room, casting weird shadows. @@.boy;"Okay,"@@ someone says, trying to sound brave. @@.boy;"Maybe it's just the building."@@ @@.boy;"Or maybe Max cursed us for complaining,"@@ another voice whispers. You shove your chair back and stand, movement clumsy in the dark. Vincent stands too, close enough that you can feel him there even though you can't see him all that well. @@.player;"Let's check the door,"@@ you say, because doing something is better than standing here uselessly. Vincent nods, and the two of you move toward the front. Someone's phone helps to illuminate your path. Once you reach the door, you wrap your hand around the knob and twist. But there's nothing. You twist again, like the door will change its mind if you bully it. But again, it doesn't budge. @@.vincent;"Is it stuck?"@@ Vincent asks, cautious. @@.player;"I think it's locked,"@@ you say. Vincent tries it too, pulling lightly, then harder. The door doesn't move. Somebody behind you goes, @@.boy;"Uh... guys?"@@ @@.boy;"Funny prank, Max!"@@ another voice says, clearly nervous. You look at Vincent in the dim light from someone's phone, and his face is pale and uncertain. He swallows, and you can see his brain assessing the situation. The lights are out, the door is locked, and you're stuck here until club block ends. <<button "What do you do now?" "Day 24 - Academic 2">><</button>>

The room is still the same room, obviously. Same desks, same stale smell, same posters. But without the lights, it feels like you got dropped into a completely different location. Every sound gets louder, every shuffle of a shoe feels suspicious, and even the phone light is weird and blue. Vincent stays near you by the door, his shoulders a little tense. He's trying his very best to look calm, but you can hear that he's nervous in the way that he breathes. His brain is probably already spiraling into worst-case scenarios. Behind you, the other club members start talking all at once again, except now it's panic instead of accusations. @@.boy;"Is this, like, legal?"@@ @@.boy;"Guys, what if this is a fire hazard?"@@ @@.girl;"Does the advisor know we're in here?"@@ @@.boy;"No, seriously, I read about this once. Buildings have emergency lights, but sometimes they fail."@@ @@.girl;"Okay, but why is the door LOCKED. Like, who locks a door when there are students inside?"@@ @@.boy;"Maybe the school is haunted."@@ Another kid immediately responds, voice way too eager: @@.boy;"Actually, hauntings are usually explained by carbon monoxide poisoning or infrasound rather than anything supernatural."@@ @@.boy;"Bro, we're in a school,"@@ someone snaps back. @@.boy;"If there was carbon monoxide, we're all dead anyway."@@ @@.girl;"Sound makes you see ghosts?"@@ @@.boy;"That's not it, exactly. It's associated with visual illusions and feelings of dread."@@ @@.girl;"Well, dread is literally what I'm feeling right now, so checkmate."@@ You're really trapped in a dark room with a bunch of nerds who cannot shut up about science facts even while scared. This is how you die. Not in a blaze of glory or in old age, surrounded by your loved ones. Just... slowly, while someone explains the science behind spooky ghosts. @@.vincent;"$name,"@@ Vincent whispers, leaning in close. @@.vincent;"What do we do?"@@ You glance at him, and it's clear he's trying to be brave, but is holding himself together with sheer willpower. You take a breath and force your voice into something steady. If you sound calm, maybe everyone else will at least pretend to be calm. @@.player;"Alright, everyone!"@@ you say, loud enough for everyone to hear. @@.player;"Everyone chill. Nobody's dying. Probably."@@ @@.girl;"PROBABLY?"@@ someone squeaks. @@.player;"Okay, bad wording,"@@ you correct. @@.player;"Nobody's dying. Period. We're in a school, not a haunted asylum. The lights will come back on soon or an adult will notice the Academic Club room is weirdly quiet and come investigate."@@ A kid in the corner goes, @@.boy;"But what if Max locked us in here as revenge for the snitch?"@@ @@.player;"Max is annoying, but he's not a supervillain,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Also, he would've monologued first and made some nerdy references."@@ A couple people snort, and you can feel the room's energy improving. You step away from the door and gesture with your hands at the floor. @@.player;"Here's what we're going to do. Everybody, come sit down on the floor in a big circle. So nobody trips over desks and we're all together when someone comes to rescue us."@@ Immediately, the nerds start being nerds about it. @@.boy;"Why a circle?"@@ @@.boy;"Circles are actually the best shape for group cohesion."@@ @@.girl;"Actually, circles are the best shape because there are no corners for predators to hide in. In some ecosystems, like coral reefs, animals create a cleared circular area near their home."@@ @@.boy;"What predators? We're in the Academic Club room."@@ @@.girl;"Predators could be metaphorical."@@ @@.boy;"Actually, the 'no corners' thing is more relevant to–"@@ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you interrupt, because you're starting to get annoyed. @@.player;"Yes. Circle is good. For many reasons, including vibes. Now sit."@@ There's shuffling as people start carefully moving chairs out of the way. Phone lights swing around, casting shaky beams across backpacks and desk legs. Someone makes a big deal of wiping away a green spot on the tile, saying it could be poisonous. Vincent sits down near you, knees pulled in slightly. His notebook is still in his hand, almost as if the guy's emotionally attached to it. He glances around the circle, then back at you. @@.vincent;"That was a good call,"@@ he says quietly. @@.vincent;"This is better."@@ You shrug, trying to be as casual as possible while hiding the fact that you're secretly relieved he said that. @@.player;"Yeah. Nobody can run into a desk and die now. That would be embarrassing."@@ Vincent lets out a small laugh. The circle settles. The room is still dark, of course, but it feels less like you're trapped and more like you're all choosing to be in the same situation together. It's the same, really, but it weirdly makes it less scary. Someone clears his throat and raises his hand even though you're sitting on the floor in the dark. @@.boy;"So... what do we do now?"@@ You glance around. Everyone's staring at you like you're the leader now, which you find deeply unfair. You didn't sign up for this! You just wanted to roll dice and then go panic about auditions later. But fine. Whatever. You're here now, and you'll handle this. You lift your hands. @@.player;"Okay, so what we're gonna do is wait. And while we wait, we do something that doesn't involve spiraling or talking about carbon monoxide."@@ A kid immediately goes, @@.girl;"But what if it //is// carbon monoxide–"@@ @@.player;"Shush,"@@ you say. She shuts up. You take another breath and think about what to suggest to pass the time. <<button "We should play a game" "Day 24 - Academic 3">>\<<set $d24academicc1 to true>>\<</button>> <<button "We should tell scary stories" "Day 24 - Academic 3">>\<<set $d24academicc1 to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $d24academicc1 is true>>\ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, rubbing your hands together. @@.player;"We're playing a game."@@ The academic club kids start shouting in unison. @@.boy;"What kind of game?"@@ @@.boy;"Does it have dice?"@@ @@.girl;"If it doesn't have dice, it's not really a game."@@ @@.boy;"Are we talking tabletop? Because we can't run a tabletop without at least a week to prepare the campaign."@@ @@.boy;"Also, if it's not strategically complex, it won't stimulate the brain."@@ Someone adds, very solemnly, @@.boy;"Games are meant to have rules."@@ Vincent leans in, whispering to you. @@.vincent;"They're going to riot if there are no dice."@@ You whisper back, @@.player;"I know. I don't know how I'm going to handle this."@@ You take a deep breath, thinking of what to say. @@.player;"Guys, relax,"@@ you finally say out loud. @@.player;"Not every game needs dice."@@ One kid gasps. @@.boy;"That's... a bold statement."@@ @@.girl;"This is the Academic Club, not a social club."@@ @@.player;"Good for you then. You can consider this an academic exercise in surviving panic in a dark room. We're going to be playing Never Have I Ever. No dice. Just secrets."@@ A few people make scandalized noises. Someone whispers, @@.boy;"This feels illegal. Where are the character sheets?"@@ @@.vincent;"They're going to be so bad at this,"@@ Vincent mutters, trying not to laugh. @@.player;"You have no idea,"@@ you whisper back, already bracing yourself. <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - Academic 4">><</button>> <<elseif $d24academicc1 is false>>\ You clap your hands once. You mean to do it quietly, but the echo in the dark room makes it sound way more dramatic than you intended. @@.player;"Alright! We're going to tell some scary stories."@@ A couple of phones tilt upward automatically, like everyone's trying to create campfire lighting even though the "campfire" is someone's cracked phone on ten percent battery. One kid immediately goes, @@.boy;"Technically, storytelling in darkness is a primal human bonding ritual."@@ Another kid whispers, @@.boy;"But why do we have to tell //scary// stories?"@@ @@.girl;"There was this one creepypasta about a smiling dog that scared me really badly as a kid."@@ @@.player;"Stop,"@@ you say, laughing, because you can already tell the nerd avalanche is about to start. @@.player;"No analyzing how humans socialize or talking about creepypastas. Let's just go for it."@@ Vincent shifts beside you, nervous but smiling a little. It's clear that he's relieved that you're taking the lead and creating a good vibe. @@.vincent;"You're actually good at this,"@@ he murmurs. @@.player;"Don't say that,"@@ you whisper back. @@.player;"That's how you jinx me."@@ You sit up straighter and glance around the circle. Their faces are draped in shadows, which makes everyone look mildly haunted even when they're just regular annoying students. @@.player;"I'll go first,"@@ you announce, because if you don't take control right now, someone is going to start explaining the evolutionary purpose of fear. A few people make impressed noises, like you just volunteered to enter a dungeon first. @@.vincent;"Are you sure?"@@ Vincent asks, eyes widening a little. You shrug, trying to sound confident. @@.player;"Yeah. But only 'cause if I don't, someone's going to talk about the horrors of only getting a 99 on a test."@@ That gets a couple snickers, and the tension loosens another notch. You take a breath, feeling every pair of eyes on you in the dark. You can tell a story that's actually scary or just say something comedic. <<button "Tell a spooky story" "Day 24 - Academic 4">>\<<set $d24academicc2 to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Tell a 'spooky' story" "Day 24 - Academic 4">>\<<set $d24academicc2 to false>>\<</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d24academicc1 is true>>\ @@.player;"Let's play Never Have I Ever,"@@ you say. The Academic Club reacts like you've offered them a plate of raw vegetables with a side of gutter rat. There's just stunned silence before the objections start rolling in, each one nerdier than the last. @@.boy;"Is that... academically relevant?"@@ @@.girl;"Isn't that a party game?"@@ @@.boy;"This feels like a violation of the club's mission statement."@@ @@.girl;"Do we even //have// a mission statement?"@@ @@.boy;"We should."@@ Vincent leans toward you, whispering, @@.vincent;"They're about to ask for peer-reviewed sources."@@ You whisper back, @@.player;"I'm ready to cite my suffering."@@ The complaints get even louder. @@.player;"Okay, okay, relax!"@@ you say, trying to calm everyone down. @@.player;"It passes time and it doesn't require equipment. It's perfect since we're literally trapped in darkness like cave people."@@ Someone immediately goes, @@.boy;"Cave people had more engaging games than Never Have I Ever."@@ @@.player;"Not helpful,"@@ you say. You explain the rules anyway, keeping it simple. You know that if you let the nerds complicate it, you'll be here until graduation. Everyone holds up ten fingers, and when someone says a "Never Have I Ever," anyone who //has// done it has to put their finger down. A girl goes first. She clears her throat like she's presenting something important. @@.girl;"Never have I ever... missed an assignment deadline."@@ Half the circle puts a finger down. A boy blurts, defensive, @@.boy;"IT WAS ONE TIME AND THE GOOGLE CLASSROOM GLITCHED."@@ @@.girl;"I missed one because I accidentally submitted my annotated bibliography as the entire essay,"@@ someone else sighs. Vincent puts a finger down, looking mildly ashamed, like missing an assignment is his personal tragedy. @@.vincent;"It was during a power outage,"@@ he murmurs. @@.vincent;"I couldn't upload it."@@ @@.player;"Vincent,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That's not even your fault."@@ He still looks haunted. @@.vincent;"I know."@@ The next kid goes, way too excited: @@.boy;"Never have I ever... built a spreadsheet for fun."@@ More fingers go down than you want to acknowledge. Another kid says, @@.girl;"Never have I ever color-coded my notes."@@ Everyone other than you drops a finger. You stare around the circle. @@.player;"You're all nightmares."@@ @@.boy;"This is Academic Club,"@@ one boy says, offended. @@.boy;"What did you expect?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm realizing that now."@@ It gets worse. @@.boy;"Never have I ever corrected a teacher!"@@ A few fingers go down. Someone says, proudly, @@.boy;"I corrected my APUSH teacher once and he thanked me."@@ Someone else mutters, @@.boy;"I corrected my math teacher and she told me to stay after class."@@ @@.girl;"Never have I ever memorized a Wikipedia page."@@ Two people put fingers down instantly, and one of them says, @@.boy;"Only because it was relevant to my debate topic."@@ Vincent's mouth twitches. He doesn't put a finger down, but he looks like he understands the impulse on a spiritual level. @@.boy;"Never have I ever cried over a test score."@@ The circle goes dead silent. Then, slowly, everyone puts a finger down. Someone whispers, like she's confessing, @@.girl;"I didn't score well on the PSAT."@@ Another person mutters, @@.boy;"Chemistry."@@ Somebody else says, @@.boy;"My mom asked why I was crying and I told her it was allergies."@@ @@.vincent;"It was sophomore year,"@@ Vincent admits, quietly dropping a finger. @@.vincent;"I didn't do too well on am AP Calculus test."@@ How the hell was he in AP Calculus in sophomore year? Eventually the turns work their way around the circle until someone points at you. @@.boy;"$name,"@@ they say, like they're calling on you in class. @@.boy;"Your turn."@@ Every phonelight seems to angle your way. Vincent looks at you expectantly, eyebrows lifted. You stare at your raised hand, your remaining fingers, and sigh. @@.player;"Okay. Never have I ever held hands with someone who wasn't my family."@@ There's some silence. You watch, waiting for at least some fingers to go down. Hell, even one. But nothing happens. Not a single finger drops. The entire circle just sits there, hands raised, fingers proudly still up. @@.player;"...Seriously?"@@ you say. A guy across from you adjusts his glasses like this is a reasonable conversation. @@.boy;"Does it count if it was for a theater exercise?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, sure."@@ @@.boy;"Oh. Then no. I opted out because it felt unnecessary."@@ A girl immediately goes, @@.girl;"Physical contact is actually an optional social behavior and not required for interpersonal bonding."@@ @@.boy;"Yeah, like, in some cultures, hand-holding is not as common."@@ A third kid adds, with absolute confidence, @@.boy;"Also, adolescent hand-holding is often a product of performative relationship signaling."@@ You stare at them harder. @@.player;"Guys,"@@ you say slowly, @@.player;"I didn't ask for a lecture. I asked if you've ever held someone's hand.'@@ @@.boy;"I held hands to form a circle in P.E. once, does that count?"@@ someone asks. Vincent, sitting beside you, keeps his fingers up too. You don't know why, but that hurts the most. He looks mildly embarrassed about it too. You slowly turn your head toward him. @@.player;"Vincent. Come on. You too?"@@ @@.vincent;"I, um..."@@ He clears his throat softly. @@.vincent;"No."@@ A kid says, @@.boy;"Hand-holding increases palm sweat transfer and risk of disease by up to–"@@ @@.player;"Stop,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Let's just move on to the next question."@@ You sit in the dark, accepting that you are trapped with the biggest nerds in human history. <<elseif $d24academicc1 is false>>\ <<if $d24academicc2 is true>>\ You take a slow breath and let it out through your nose before starting. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, voice low. @@.player;"Actual scary story. No jokes. If you get scared, don't blame me."@@ Someone immediately whispers, @@.girl;"I've already been blaming you for this whole mess."@@ You ignore that. You glance at the door that still refuses to budge, then back at the circle. Vincent's sitting close enough that you can feel him watching you, tense but curious. He's trying to look brave on purpose, but that only makes him look //more// nervous. Everyone else is terrified as well, as to be expected. You start anyway. @@.player;"So there's this school that had a room just like this,"@@ you begin. @@.player;"Nothing special. Just a club room that smelled like dry markers and disappointment."@@ A couple people laugh, and you shoot them a look. @@.player;"No laughing, I'm being serious here,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It was a normal room until the power started going out in it. Not the whole building, no. Just this one room in particular. People thought it was the wiring, or a prank, or a janitor messing with them. They did... well, they did the same thing we're doing now. phones out, trying the door, joking to keep themselves from freaking out."@@ You pause just long enough for the circle to lean in. @@.player;"The first time it happened, everyone got out. The door wasn't locked and the lights came back on a few minutes later like nothing happened. A week later, though, it happened again. And this time, the door locked."@@ Someone sucks in a sharp breath. @@.player;"They were stuck for maybe fifteen minutes,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"And in those fifteen minutes, they heard... things. Not footsteps or someone outside. I mean inside the room itself. Small sounds. A scrape across tile that didn't match any shoe and a soft click like a nail tapping wood. The kind of sound you can't quite locate because the dark makes everything smear together."@@ You tilt your head, pretending to be listening. The room is quiet now. @@.player;"One of the kids turned their phone flashlight toward the ceiling, trying to see what was up with the lights,"@@ you say. @@.player;"And when the beam hit the ceiling... well, the ceiling wasn't empty."@@ A few people shift, uncomfortable. Someone whispers, @@.boy;"Oh no."@@ You keep your voice steady. @@.player;"There were these marks. Like someone had dragged something sharp across it. Long lines, spaced weirdly, like long fingers. And in the middle of the ceiling, right above where they were sitting, there were words."@@ Vincent's voice comes out thin. @@.vincent;"What words?"@@ @@.player;"A name,"@@ you say, looking right at him. Nobody laughs now. Not even the kid who wouldn't shut the fuck up. @@.player;"The name didn't make sense at first,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"It wasn't a student's name, or a teacher's, or even a normal name at all, really. It looked like something that had been written by something that didn't quite know how letters worked. Too many loops, too many angles. Like language itself got twisted trying to form it."@@ You let the silence stretch. The building makes a settling creak that makes everyone flinch. @@.player;"They didn't know what to do, so they did what people always do when they're scared,"@@ you say softly. @@.player;"They made a circle and tried to distract themselves by telling stories."@@ A couple of the nerds exchange a look, knowing this is targeted. @@.player;"The room wanted something,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"It wasn't a wiring issue or an accident. It was a trap, like an open mouth just waiting to close."@@ Someone breathes, @@.boy;"Stop."@@ Vincent's eyes are wide behind his glasses. @@.player;"One person read the name on the ceiling, thinking it was a way to show respect to the spirit,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Like if you named it, it would leave you alone. But... they were wrong."@@ Everyone clenches. @@.player;"When they said the name, they heard something answer from the dark,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"Not with words, but with a sound. It was a ragged breath, but one that didn't belong to anyone in the circle. It was close, like something was leaning right down between them, enjoying the fact that it had been noticed."@@ The room is so quiet you can hear somebody's phone vibrate and they scramble like it's a gunshot. @@.player;"And then one of the phone flashlights flickered."@@ A kid near the back speaks without meaning to. @@.boy;"Phones don't flicker."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"They don't."@@ You let that hang. @@.player;"The flashlight started... strobing. Like something was moving in front of the beam. Like something was passing through the light even though nothing was visible. Every time it flickered, the room felt smaller. Like the walls were leaning in."@@ @@.player;"One person started crying. Another person started laughing because your brain does that sometimes when it can't handle fear. Someone tried the door again and it still wouldn't open. Someone else tried to call for help and realized the signal was gone. No bars, no nothing. Like the room cut the world off."@@ Vincent swallows. @@.player;"And then they heard the drag-sound again. The scrape across tile. But it wasn't coming from the door this time. It wasn't even coming from the ceiling. It was coming from the middle of the circle."@@ You watch everyone's faces as their brains snap to the same thought. @@.player;"They all turned their lights toward the center of the circle, and when the phone beams met in the middle... there was a shadow."@@ Vincent whispers. @@.vincent;"A person?"@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"Not a person, but close. It was like someone tried to draw a body while not quite knowing how to. It was too tall and too thin. The proportions just off. And the worst part wasn't what it looked like. The worst part was that it was sitting perfectly still, like it had been there the entire time. Like it had been listening to them talk and panic, just waiting for its turn."@@ @@.girl;"Oh my God,"@@ someone whispers. @@.player;"And then it leaned forward. It reached out and it placed a hand, if you can even call it a hand, on the knee of the person who said the name first. And it pulled them into the dark between the desks. That empty space in the corner where the light couldn't follow. Nobody even heard a scream. The room ate the sound."@@ The circle is dead silent now. Even the annoying kid doesn't have anything to 'well actually' with. @@.player;"The lights came back on ten minutes later. The door unlocked. Everyone ran out. They told teachers, they told parents, they told the principal. But nobody knew what they were talking about. To them, that kid who got dragged between the desks never existed. No record of their name, their home was occupied by another family, no other students knew who they were. They had effectively been wiped from the world."@@ Your mouth feels dry. @@.player;"Except there was one extra desk in the room,"@@ you add. @@.player;"That's the only proof he ever existed. A desk that's oddly cool to the touch, sitting in the corner of the room like it had always been there. And that was it."@@ Nobody speaks for a second. @@.boy;"That was... too much,"@@ one of the nerds whispers, voice shaking. You exhale a laugh and chuckle. Vincent stares at the door like he's expecting a monster to pop out. And then, from above, the building makes a quiet click. The entire circle jolts at once. @@.player;"Okay!"@@ you say, way too fast. @@.player;"Just to be clear, that was fictional. Fully fictional. Not real. Super fake. The 'extra desk' thing? I just made that up–"@@ Someone cuts you off, voice high. @@.boy;"WHY WOULD YOU TELL SOMETHING THAT SCARY?"@@ @@.player;"Well, I thought that I may as well go all in if we're doing scary!"@@ you say, spreading your hands helplessly. Vincent swallows and forces out a thin laugh, his eyes wide. @@.vincent;"$name, if I feel something touching my knee, I'm going to die."@@ @@.player;"Just don't whisper its name,"@@ you tease. @@.player;"So! Who's next?"@@ The circle does not move. Nobody volunteers. The room stays dark, the door stays locked, and the space between the desks suddenly feels a little too empty. <<elseif $d24academicc2 is false>>\ You sit up straighter and put on your best spooky voice, like you're about to narrate a Halloween special. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you announce. @@.player;"I'm going first. But I'm warning you in advance that this is terrifying."@@ Someone immediately mutters, @@.boy;"Define terrifying."@@ @@.player;"No being annoying. Just listen."@@ Vincent leans toward you a little, curious. You lower your voice dramatically. @@.player;"So. There's this student in a school just like ours."@@ A kid whispers, @@.boy;"Classic setup."@@ @@.player;"This student is walking down a dark, empty hallway. It's silent. Too silent. The air feels all wrong."@@ Someone breathes, @@.girl;"Ooh."@@ @@.player;"And as the student walks, they see something at the end of the hallway. It's a figure, standing completely still. The figure doesn't move or even make a sound. It just stands there. Watching. The student takes a step back, but the figure takes a step closer. The student starts walking away, but the figure walks faster."@@ Vincent looks scared. @@.player;"And finally, the student breaks into a run,"@@ you say, voice dropping. @@.player;"The figure breaks into a run too. The student is sprinting now, in complete panic. Their backpack is bouncing, their heartbeat is loud, they can hear the figure's footsteps right behind them. Closer and closer and closer..."@@ One of the nerds squeaks, @@.boy;"Nope!"@@ Everybody's holding their breath like you're about to say it was a demon or some scary creature. @@.player;"The student whips around at the very last second to face their pursuer. And it's... the attendance office lady."@@ A couple people blink. @@.boy;"What?"@@ @@.player;"She's holding a clipboard and is looking at the student with the most haunted expression anyone has ever had, and she says 'Sweetie... yer late.'"@@ You speak the last line in a deep voice, perfectly imitating a tired adult who has no joy left. The circle explodes. Someone snorts so hard they choke. Another kid laughs and immediately tries to cover it with a cough as if laughter in Academic Club is illegal. Vincent drops his head into his hands for a second, shoulders shaking. @@.player;"The student tries to explain, but the lady does not care. She just says 'Do ya have a note from ya mothuh?'"@@ The laughter gets louder. The tension in the room loosens, everyone's shoulders dropping. You've managed to remind them you're still just a bunch of people trapped in a stupid club room, not characters in a horror film. @@.vincent;"That voice is unfortunately accurate,"@@ Vincent says, grinning. @@.player;"Oh, I'm not done yet,"@@ you say. @@.player;"The student thinks it's over. They think they've survived this terrifying encounter. But then they look down."@@ You pause long enough for the nerds to quiet down again, because you can't resist toying with them. @@.player;"There's a sticker on their shirt,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"A neon sticker. And written on it with Sharpie is the word ''Tardy''."@@ The group groans-laughs, a chrous of @@.boy;"NOOO"@@ and @@.boy;"that's evil."@@ Someone says, @@.girl;"That's genuinely the scariest part."@@ @@.player;"And the student tries to peel it off,"@@ you add. Vincent squints. @@.vincent;"It won't come off?"@@ @@.player;"It won't come off,"@@ you confirm. @@.player;"It rips their shirt, refusing to come off. The adhesive is supernatural."@@ Someone whispers, in awe, @@.boy;"The legendary tardy sticker."@@ @@.player;"And then the student goes home, thinking they escaped,"@@ you say. @@.player;"They crawl into bed. They swear they're never going back. But when they close their eyes, they hear it. A sound from the darkness."@@ The circle goes quiet again, waiting. You lean in and whisper, in the most chilling voice you can imagine: @@.player;"'Missing assignment.'"@@ Everyone loses it again. Vincent laughs so hard he actually wheezes once, then tries to hide it by pretending to clear his throat. @@.vincent;"That's not funny,"@@ he says, still laughing. @@.vincent;"That's just real life."@@ @@.player;"I told you it was terrifying,"@@ you say smugly. A nerd near the window sighs dramatically. @@.boy;"I was expecting ghosts and got psychological horror."@@ @@.player;"Welcome to school,"@@ you say. The circle is still lit by phones, the door still locked, but now it feels less like a trap and more like a funny hangout. Even the kid who keeps trying to be scientific about everything is smiling. @@.vincent;"Thank you for making it less scary,"@@ Vincent murmurs. @@.player;"Don't get used to it,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"Okay, somebody else tell a story before we get spooked again."@@ A couple hands actually start to lift. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - Academic 5">><</button>>

The fluorescent lights overhead give a weak, stuttering flicker. The room flashes into existence for half a second before the lights die again. A collective noise rises from the group, relieved. @@.boy;"Oh my God."@@ @@.girl;"Finally."@@ @@.boy;"Was that a warning flicker?"@@ Someone mutters, @@.boy;"It's like the lighting system is buffering."@@ Then the lights flicker again. Two quick pulses, and finally they catch. The room floods with harsh brightness, and your eyes complain instantly. They'd adjusted to the cave life and now you're being punished for returning to civilization. Nobody moves for a second, brain's resetting. Then the door opens. Max walks in with a stack of papers tucked under one arm and the exhausted stride of someone who's been negotiating with an adult who doesn't understand fun. He doesn't even look up right away. He's muttering to himself, continuing a conversation that's already ended. @@.boy;"...and I'm telling you, it's literally not even that different from a literature circle, it just has dice and–"@@ He looks up, stops, and stares. The entire Academic Club is sitting on the floor in a circle. There are phones out with flashlights on. One kid is hugging his backpack like it's an emotional support animal. Vincent is sitting next to you, notebook still in his lap like he refused to let the world take it from him. Everyone has the exact look of people who got caught doing something they can't quite explain. Max just stands there, blinking slowly. @@.boy;"What's up?"@@ he says finally, voice flat. A couple of the nerds start talking at once, like they want to complain, but you beat them to it because you can already tell Max is going to get annoyed. @@.player;"The lights went out,"@@ you say, pointing at the ceiling like the culprit is still hiding up there. @@.player;"It was only in this room. Everything just shut off."@@ Max's eyebrows lift. He glances at the lights as if they might confess. @@.boy;"Huh."@@ He takes two steps into the room, still looking up. @@.boy;"That's weird. If I hear heavy breathing and sense the Force, I'm not investigating."@@ One of the kids perks up. @@.boy;"Is that a //Star//–"@@ @@.boy;"It is indeed a reference,"@@ Max says. He tosses his papers onto the front desk and plants his hands on his hips. @@.boy;"Okay, but, why didn't you guys just leave the room?'@@ Your whole body fills with the urge to scream, //because we couldn't//, but you manage to keep it normal. @@.player;"The door was locked,"@@ you say. Max's face changes instantly, the annoyance melting into realization. He makes a sound and whispers, @@.boy;"Oh my God."@@ The nerds all turn toward him as one, like a hive mind. Max rubs his forehead, already suffering. @@.boy;"Okay. Okay I think I–"@@ he pauses, then groans louder. @@.boy;"I think I accidentally locked it when I left."@@ A couple of people protest at once. @@.girl;"Accidentally?"@@ @@.boy;"That was ''not'' an accident. You did that on purpose."@@ @@.girl;"You locked us in here?"@@ @@.boy;"It's a habit, okay?"@@ Max says, lifting a hand. @@.boy;"I lock doors behind me automatically. Like muscle memory. Like... like a stealth game where you close doors so the guards don't realize you were there."@@ @@.boy;"You literally trapped us,"@@ someone says, aghast. @@.boy;"And you all survived!"@@ Max says. @@.boy;"Congratulations. Achievement unlocked: 'Trapped in a Classroom.'"@@ Someone mutters, @@.boy;"I want a refund."@@ Max sighs again, then waves his hands toward the desks. @@.boy;"Alright, well, time is up anyway. Bell's about to ring. Pack your stuff and get ready to leave."@@ A nerd near the window crosses her arms. @@.girl;"We were cheated out of our study block."@@ Another one adds, dramatic, @@.boy;"My productivity was stolen."@@ @@.boy;"I was emotionally prepared to review my notes, and now I have NOTHING!"@@ one exclaims. @@.boy;"Well, I'm sorry, but I didn't mean for the lights to go off,"@@ Max says. @@.boy;"So get ready to leave, and you can study another time."@@ The room starts shifting back into motion. People stand and stretch like they've been sitting in the dark for days rather than minutes. Phones get shoved into pockets, and many people grumble and complain. You get up too, dusting your palms on your pants, and start packing your stuff. Your notebook goes into your bag an your phone goes into your pocket. These little mundane actions feel weirdly grounding after the whole debacle. Even if it was more annoying than terrifying. Vincent stands beside you and carefully gathers his things with that meticulous energy he always has. He glances around the room once, then back at you, expression still a little uncertain. It's as if he's trying to categorize what just happened. When the noise dies down a bit, he leans in, voice low enough that only you can hear. @@.vincent;"So... did you like that? I know it was unusual, but I actually had fun. It was different than what usually goes on in this club."@@ It's such a Vincent question that you can't help but smile. You pause with your backpack half-zipped, thinking about it. The panic, the weird circle bonding, the nerds being nerds, Max accidentally imprisoning everyone. It was stupid and chaotic, sure, but also kind of memorable. Vincent watches you, waiting for your verdict. <<button "Honestly? That was kind of fun" "Day 24 - Academic 6">>\<<set $d24academicc3 to true>>\<</button>> <<button "No. I didn't like it much." "Day 24 - Academic 6">>\<<set $d24academicc3 to false>>\<</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D24Academic">>\ <<if $d24academicc3 is true>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You zip your backpack the rest of the way and give Vincent a look. You're about to say something embarrassing, and you hate that he's making you say it out loud. @@.player;"Honestly?"@@ you admit, keeping your voice low because the last thing you need is the Academic Club overhearing you and turning it into a debate. @@.player;"That was kinda fun."@@ Vincent blinks, like he wasn't expecting that answer. You lift one shoulder in a shrug, trying to play it off. @@.player;"Not the part where we were locked in a dark room with dying phone batteries. That part sucked. But the... sitting in a circle, everyone freaking out, trying to distract each other, all that. It was dumb in a good way."@@ Vincent's expression shifts in real time. The nervous tightness in his face loosens, and relief replaces it. He's happy that you didn't hate being there with him. He smiles, small at first, then a little bigger like he can't help it. @@.vincent;"I thought so too,"@@ he says, voice sounding warmer than it did a minute ago. @@.vincent;"I mean, I didn't enjoy the... being trapped part. But it felt like we were a group. Like we were actually doing something together instead of just sharing the same room."@@ You snort softly. @@.player;"We did something together, alright. We survived Max's accidental hostage situation."@@ @@.vincent;"He really did lock us in, huh?"@@ Vincent says, letting out a quiet laugh. @@.vincent;"That's going to live in my brain forever."@@ @@.player;"Same,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm going to remember this every damn time someone tells me that Academic Club is boring. I'll correct them. Academic Club is a psychological experiment, actually."@@ Around you, the rest of the club is packing up too, still grumbling in that nerdy, offended way. @@.boy;"This was academically inefficient,"@@ someone complains while shoving notebooks into a bag. A different kid says, @@.girl;"Does anyone know if being trapped in a dark room counts as community service?"@@ @@.boy;"Max owes us,"@@ another one mutters. Max, meanwhile, is at the front desk gathering his papers with the air of a man who will pretend this never happened. @@.boy;"Okay!"@@ he says loudly, like he's restoring order to a kingdom. @@.boy;"Everybody out. Go be productive members of society. And no one say 'false imprisonment' in the group chat."@@ @@.girl;"That's exactly what someone guilty would say!"@@ @@.boy;"You lose speaking privileges,"@@ Max states, pointing at them. You and Vincent share a quick glance, both acknowledging that this is fucking ridiculous, and it makes you feel weirdly better about the rest of the day. Like, even if auditions later make your stomach do gymnastics, at least you had this today. One fun moment. Vincent slings his backpack over one shoulder. @@.vincent;"Ready?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, stepping around a chair someone left out. @@.player;"Before the lights decide to forsake us again."@@ @@.vincent;"Or before Max locks us back in,"@@ Vincent says, mouth twitching. @@.player;"Don't even joke,"@@ you say, but you're smiling. You head for the door together, slipping into the flow of students. The room behind you is just a boring club room again, but the memory of it being dark and strange lingers. Vincent walks beside you as you step out, matching your pace automatically, and the two of you leave the classroom together. <<elseif $d24academicc3 is false>>\ You pause with your backpack half-zipped, looking at Vincent's face. He's careful, and it seems like he genuinely wants to know. You feel a little guilty, because it seems the answer will matter to him. It makes it even harder to lie. You just... can't do that. You exhale and shake your head a little. @@.player;"No,"@@ you admit quietly. @@.player;"I didn't like it much."@@ Vincent's smile falters. Not dramatically or anything, he's not offended, but he's absorbing it. His eyebrows knit slightly, and his shoulders dip a little. He doesn't seem mad though. If anything, he looks thoughtful. Like he's trying to understand what part landed wrong for you. @@.vincent;"That makes sense,"@@ he says, immediately gentle. @@.vincent;"Being trapped in the dark isn't exactly pleasant."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Yeah. Like it wasn't the worst thing ever, but it definitely felt stressful. I already have enough going on in my head today, y'know?"@@ Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"I'm sorry to hear that,"@@ he says, and it's so sincere you almost want to take your answer back just to avoid making him apologize for something he didn't do. @@.player;"It's not your fault,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"It's Max's fault. Max committed a crime out of habit."@@ That makes Vincent's mouth twitch. The small smile that appears is relieved. @@.vincent;"He did,"@@ Vincent agrees, quietly amused. @@.vincent;"I don't know how he's going to explain that if anyone actually reports it."@@ @@.player;"He's going to make a nerd reference and hope everyone forgets,"@@ you say, because that is exactly what Max would do. As if on cue, one of the club members nearby says, @@.boy;"We were cheated out of our study block. I feel academically robbed."@@ @@.girl;"I had a plan,"@@ another one insists. @@.girl;"I was going to annotate two chapters."@@ Someone else mutters, @@.boy;"The darkness stole my productivity."@@ Max, at the front, pretends not to hear any of this. @@.boy;"Okay!"@@ he announces, loud and authoritative. @@.boy;"Time's up. Bell's about to ring. Everyone out."@@ A kid raises a hand automatically. @@.girl;"Are we allowed to file a complaint?"@@ @@.boy;"No,"@@ Max says. @@.girl;"What about an appeal?"@@ @@.boy;"Also no."@@ @@.girl;"What about–"@@ Max sighs. @@.boy;"You can appeal to the concept of fate, alright?"@@ You and Vincent finish packing in sync. Vincent adjusts his glasses for no reason yet again. The nervous habit clinging on for life. He looks at you like he's confirming something silently. Confirming that you're good. You give him a small nod back. It's not a big moment, but it doesn't need to be. It's just... reassuring. Vincent slips his backpack on. @@.vincent;"Ready?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, stepping around the aftermath of the circle. @@.player;"Let's escape before Max decides to lock us in again for round two."@@ Vincent lets out a soft laugh. @@.vincent;"I'll bring a lockpick this time."@@ @@.player;"Smart,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We learned something today. That's academic enough."@@ You head toward the doorway together, joining the stream of students filing out into the hallway. The classroom behind you is bright and normal again. Vincent stays beside you as you step out, matching your pace, and the two of you leave the classroom together. <</if>>\ <<button "Time to eat lunch" "Day 24 - 4">><</button>>

<<if $fashion2choice isnot 4>>\ You walk into Fashion Club expecting... Well, you're not sure exactly what you expected, but it wasn't this. Because what you get is a room that looks like it's been hit by a tornado made of fabric. There are garment bags draped over chairs, a rolling rack crammed with outfits, a steamer going crazy in the corner, and accessories spread out on the table. It's loud and chaotic, but in a kind of focused way. People calling out measurements, someone asking where the safety pins are, a girl fixing a zipper. The reason for this, of course, is because the Fall Showcase is next week. You don't even need Sierra to say it, because you can just feel it. The whole room has "deadline" in the air. As soon as you step in, you catch Jessica's eye. She's by the mirror, holding a piece of fabric up to one of the members like she's checking how it looks. When she sees you, her face brightens. Its a natural warmth that makes people want to smile back without even realizing it. @@.jessica;"Hey, $name,"@@ she says, like she's genuinely glad you're here. She sets the fabric down and walks over and walks over. @@.jessica;"Good to see that you made it."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I did,"@@ you say. Jessica's eyes flick over you briefly. @@.jessica;"You okay? You look... kinda nervous."@@ @@.player;"Auditions today for theater,"@@ you say simply. @@.player;"Bit scary."@@ @@.jessica;"That's valid,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"I'm glad you came though, even with all that nervousness. Especially because we wanted to ask you something."@@ Before you can reply, Fashion Club leader Sierra appears out of nowhere. It's like she was summoned by Jessica's words. She's got her measuring tape around her neck and a pen tucked behind her ear. She looks like she's got five different things in her head at once. @@.girl;"$name,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"Perfect timing."@@ @@.player;"Uh-oh,"@@ you murmur. Jessica gives you a reassuring look. @@.jessica;"It's not bad. Promise."@@ @@.girl;"We need a promotional photo for next week,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"Just for some posters at other schools. It would be nice if we could feature the blue dress."@@ Your brain immediately pulls up last week. The way Sierra had said they just needed to size it. You wore it, and even though you tried not to think about it, it did feel pretty soft on your skin. @@.player;"So, I'm assuming you want me in it again?"@@ you ask, tilting your head. Jessica nods. @@.jessica;"If you're okay with it, yeah. We revised it."@@ @@.player;"Revised how?"@@ @@.girl;"We adjusted the bodice and hemline,"@@ Sierra says. @@.jessica;"It looks really good now,"@@ Jessica adds. @@.jessica;"Like, really, really good."@@ @@.player;"I wore it last week because you said you needed sizing, though."@@ @@.girl;"We did,"@@ Sierra says. @@.player;"And you finished sizing it,"@@ you say, checking the logic out loud. @@.jessica;"Yes,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"We sized it to fit your body. You fit it best."@@ Sierra nods. @@.girl;"You're the right proportions for the way we cut it."@@ @@.player;"So now I have to take promo photos,"@@ you murmur. @@.jessica;"Yeah!"@@ Jessica exclaims. @@.jessica;"It won't be a full photoshoot. Just enough to put on flyers. We want people to actually show up and vote for us next week."@@ @@.girl;"We can do it quickly, promise,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"It should only take ten minutes. We'll handle everything. All you have to do is wear it."@@ @@.jessica;"And look, if you don't want to, you can say no,"@@ Jessica says, giving you an out. @@.jessica;"Seriously, it's fine. It would be a big help if you did, but don't feel pressured to."@@ @@.girl;"We would really appreciate it, though,"@@ Sierra adds. You take a breath, trying to decide what version of you is speaking right now. <<button "Accept enthusiastically" "Day 24 - Fashion 2">>\<<set $d24fashionc1 to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "'Refuse' (not really)" "Day 24 - Fashion 2">>\<<set $d24fashionc1 to 1>>\<</button>> <<button "Sure, I guess" "Day 24 - Fashion 2">>\<<set $d24fashionc1 to 2>>\<</button>> <<else>>\ You walk into Fashion Club expecting... Well, you're not sure exactly what you expected, but it wasn't this. Because what you get is a room that looks like it's been hit by a tornado made of fabric. There are garment bags draped over chairs, a rolling rack crammed with outfits, a steamer going crazy in the corner, and accessories spread out on the table. It's loud and chaotic, but in a kind of focused way. People calling out measurements, someone asking where the safety pins are, a girl fixing a zipper. The reason for this, of course, is because the Fall Showcase is next week. You don't even need Sierra to say it, because you can just feel it. The whole room has "deadline" in the air. As soon as you step in, you catch Jessica's eye. She's by the mirror, holding a piece of fabric up to one of the members like she's checking how it looks. When she sees you, her face brightens. It's a natural warmth that makes people want to smile back without even realizing it. @@.jessica;"Hey, $name,"@@ she says, like she's genuinely glad you're here. She sets the fabric down and walks over and walks over. @@.jessica;"You made it."@@ @@.player;"Just barely, yeah,"@@ you say. @@.jessica;"Sierra said you could help with sorting the trims. Like fabric, ribbons, all that. Make sure to memorize their names and what makes them unique!"@@ @@.player;"Oh, sure, I can do that,"@@ you say, blinking. Jessica smiles. @@.jessica;"Great."@@ You spend the rest of the club block learning about various fabrics. <<button "Time to eat lunch" "Day 24 - 3">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d24fashionc1 is 0>>\ You barely think about it before your mouth is already answering. @@.player;"Yeah!"@@ you say, and it comes out with this confidence that surprised even you. @@.player;"Yeah, I can do it. If you need the dress for promo stuff, I'm in."@@ Jessica's face brightens right away. @@.jessica;"Thank you, $name,"@@ she says warmly. @@.jessica;"That actually helps a lot."@@ Sierra nods. @@.girl;"Yes, it's much appreciated."@@ You glance at the blue dress again. You remember the weird little moment where you caught yourself in the mirror and your brain went quiet for a second, like it didn't quite know what to do. And shit, the dress honestly felt nice. That's not a thought you're ever going to say out loud, though. Especially with this crowd. @@.player;"Besides, I was kind of curious what you changed,"@@ you say, clearing your throat and doing your best to keep it casual. @@.girl;"We fixed the parts that were bugging us last week,"@@ Sierra says, smirking. @@.girl;"It's cleaner now, it's more comfortable now, and, most important, it's cuter now."@@ @@.jessica;"He's acting like he's on the design team,"@@ Jessica says, amused. @@.player;"I know I'm not a fashion genius, alright?"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"I'm just... curious."@@ @@.girl;"I'm all for curiosity if it gets us a good flyer,"@@ Sierra jokes. @@.girl;"Curiosity is better than complaining, after all."@@ @@.player;"Hey, don't say anything bad about complaining, 'cause I do that too,"@@ you state. @@.player;"I contain multitudes."@@ That gets a quick little giggle out of Jessica. <<elseif $d24fashionc1 is 1>>\ Your first instinct is to protest. Not because you actually don't want to wear it, but because it feels like the rules of being $name require at least //some// resistance. Like if you say yes too fast, the universe will mark it down, finding it suspicious. @@.player;"Hmm,"@@ you say, making a face. @@.player;"I don't know about the blue dress again. I already tried it on last week, and you said that'd be it."@@ @@.girl;"It was sizing, but we sized it to your body,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"You are officially the best fit."@@ @@.jessica;"We wouldn't ask if we didn't actually need it,"@@ Jessica adds, backing up Sierra. @@.player;"Okay, but why is it me again?"@@ you say. @@.player;"I get I'm the best fit, but are you telling me nobody else can wear it?"@@ @@.girl;"Correct,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"Or perhaps more accurately, nobody else can wear it like you do."@@ @@.player;"How direct,"@@ you mutter. @@.girl;"We need photos that look right,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"You would make them look right."@@ Jessica steps in to try and tame your stubborn soul. @@.jessica;"$name,"@@ she says calmly, @@.jessica;"It's not a huge thing. We just need a few shots for promo. You don't have to do anything intense."@@ @@.girl;"You don't seem like you dislike it either,"@@ Sierra adds. @@.girl;"You didn't freak out last week."@@ @@.player;"I did freak out!"@@ you sputter. @@.jessica;"Not as much as most people would,"@@ Jessica says, smile tugging at her lips. Sierra nods. @@.girl;"You looked natural."@@ The line lands too deep for your liking. @@.player;"So what you're saying is, you want to use me as your mannequin again?"@@ you say, trying to recover with sarcasm. @@.jessica;"A //cute// mannequin."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.jessica;"Why?"@@ she asks. @@.jessica;"Look, I'm just telling the truth here."@@ @@.player;"Okay, but what would happen if I say no?"@@ you ask. You're fighting the urge to smile because that would ruin your whole performance. @@.girl;"Then we scramble, and the dress doesn't get featured properly, and the promo looks weaker,"@@ Sierra says. Jessica adds, @@.jessica;"And I'll be sad."@@ You glance at Jessica. She said it in such a casual tone that it actually made her guilt-tripping //more// effective. @@.girl;"Look, to tell you the truth, you looked good in it,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"We don't have time to find a new model. Put the dress on."@@ @@.player;"Okayyy,"@@ you say, dragging your words. @@.player;"I guess I can do it."@@ Sierra nods once, immediately victorious, while Jessica's smile stays warm. <<elseif $d24fashionc1 is 2>>\ You glance at the dress, then back at them. The room is clearly in crunch mode, and the ask itself isn't really that complicated. It's not like they're asking you to memorize choreography or sew something. It's just... put the dress on again so they can get some photos. @@.player;"Eh, sure,"@@ you say, with an easy shrug. @@.player;"If you need me for it, I can."@@ @@.jessica;"Thanks,"@@ Jessica says, expression relaxing immediately. @@.jessica;"That's really helpful."@@ @@.girl;"That's good,"@@ Sierra says, nodding. @@.girl;"That's what I needed to know."@@ @@.player;"It's whatever,"@@ you add, indifferent. @@.player;"Last week was fine and you guys revised it, so sure. Do your thing."@@ @@.jessica;"You're being very... chill about this,"@@ Jessica says, looking kind of confused. @@.girl;"Jessica, as long as he cooperates, I'm happy,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"I don't care what you call it."@@ @@.player;"I call it not giving a fuck,"@@ you say. @@.jessica;"And I call that a good mindset to have,"@@ Jessica says, giving you a small smile. <</if>>\ <<button "Wear the dress, bro" "Day 24 - Fashion 3">><</button>>

<<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempshoes to $shoes>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ <<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<set $outfit to 3>>\ <<set $shoes to 4>>\ You step out from behind the changing screen and immediately get hit with weird silence. It's not that anyone's being dramatic on purpose, they wouldn't do that, it's just that they can't help but look up. The blue dress feels different than it did last week. It feels cleaner, and the fabric sits smoother against you. Even the parts that felt slightly off before are gone. You try not to think too hard about the fact that you're wearing a dress. Look, you're just doing promo photos for the club. That's normal, right? Jessica turns toward you, and you can see that she's dressed up too. She's got a cozy cream sweater layered just right paired with a brown skirt. There are some boots as well that look like they belong in a fall-themed photoshoot. It's very cute. @@.jessica;"You look good,"@@ Jessica says. She says it simply, like she's stating an obvious fact. You feel your face warm a little. @@.player;"Uh... thanks. You too. You look like... Autumn."@@ Jessica giggles. @@.jessica;"I mean, I guess I'll take the compliment."@@ Sierra steps closer with focused leader energy. She does a quick scan of your fit, then a quick scan of Jessica's fit, then nods once, satisfied. @@.girl;"Okay, revisions definitely paid off,"@@ Sierra says. You glance between them, then down at yourself. @@.player;"So... we're doing the promo shots now?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, we are. Well, actually, hmm."@@ She hesitates, deciding how to put her next words. @@.jessica;"We're going to be taking them together."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Together?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah!"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"It'll look better if it's not just you standing there like a lost exchange student. It's promo, and people like seeing two people. Not to mention it feels way more... club."@@ <<if $jessicaRomance > 19>>\ You open your mouth to argue before immediately realizing you don't actually have a good argument. Not to mention you're not going to pretend you're //mad// about taking pictures with Jessica. Come on now, that would be ridiculous. <<else>>\ You open your mouth to argue before immediately realizing you don't actually have a good argument. <</if>>\ @@.player;"Oh, okay then,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That makes sense."@@ @@.jessica;"Good!"@@ Jessica says, smiling. She reaches into her bag and pulls out her phone. Except it's not just a phone. It has a big camera cluster on the back, a spotless screen, and no case. It's an eyeFone, and you can tell that it's expensive. Jessica holds it out toward Sierra. @@.jessica;"Here. You take them."@@ Sierra accepts it carefully. @@.girl;"Alright."@@ @@.player;"Wait, why are we using Jessica's phone?"@@ you ask, confused. @@.player;"Don't you have a phone too, Sierra?"@@ Sierra doesn't look offended. If anything, she looks mildly amused. @@.girl;"My phone is just fine, but Jessica always has the newest eyeFone with the best camera."@@ @@.jessica;"It's not my fault I'm responsible,"@@ Jessica says, shrugging innocently. @@.girl;"You're not responsible,"@@ Sierra says, snorting. @@.girl;"You're just sponsored by your parents' American Distress Platinum card."@@ Jessica smiles. @@.jessica;"Also true."@@ Sierra angles the phone up, checks the framing, and steps back a few paces to get distance. @@.girl;"Okay, you two get over here. In front of the rack. The colors behind you are good, and it doesn't look like a disaster zone."@@ You and Jessica walk to where she points, weaving around bags, abandoned shoes, and fabric. It's like you're navigating a minefield of fashion. Jessica takes her spot beside you easily, close enough that you're aware of her, but not close enough to make it feel awkward. @@.girl;"Alright! Let's go for some test shots. Just relax."@@ You try to relax, but "relax" is hard when you're wearing a dress and standing next to the most popular girl at Pacific Crest High while someone aims a high-definition camera at your soul. Jessica seems completely fine, of course. She turns slightly, angling her body in a way that looks flattering. It's kind of annoying just how easy she makes it look. She glances at you and murmurs, @@.jessica;"Just copy me."@@ @@.player;"Copy you?"@@ you whisper back. What kind of help is that? You can't mirror a professional. @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ Jessica says, smiling. @@.jessica;"Trust me."@@ Sierra takes the first picture. @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ Sierra says, looking down at the screen. @@.girl;"Not bad."@@ Jessica leans in to see. You lean too, mostly because you feel like you're supposed to. You see that the picture is fine. Like, objectively, it has good lighting and decent framing. But it also looks a little stiff, like two people got told to just "stand together" and then did exactly that. @@.jessica;"Hmm,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"We could do better."@@ @@.girl;"Try turning slightly toward each other,"@@ Sierra suggests. You and Jessica pivot a little. Jessica poses by placing a hand lightly at her own waist. You follow her lead, trying to look like you're not thinking about where your arms are meant to go. Sierra takes a few more photos, but when she looks down at the results, she doesn't seem all that pleased. @@.girl;"It's still not quite there."@@ Jessica leans in again, studying the photo. @@.jessica;"It's too generic,"@@ Jessica says slowly. @@.jessica;"Like a yearbook photo."@@ @@.player;"But it's supposed to be a promo,"@@ you comment. @@.girl;"That's exactly the problem,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"Promos need a vibe."@@ Jessica exhales and rubs her forehead lightly, like she's trying to pull an idea out of thin air. @@.jessica;"Okay. But what vibe, though? The Fall Showcase is next week, we've gotta decide."@@ @@.girl;"I don't know what vibe, but we need something that makes people actually stop and look,"@@ Sierra says. Jessica nods, eyes narrowing in thought as she workshops this in her head. She shifts her weight, tries a different stance, then shakes her head like it's still not the missing piece. @@.jessica;"We could go playful,"@@ Jessica says, half to herself. @@.jessica;"Or romantic. Or like... confident. Or like, cozy fall vibe. Or... Ugh! I don't know."@@ You stand there in the dress, trying not to fidget, and realize you've been quiet long enough that it's starting to become obvious that you're thinking. @@.jessica;"What's up?"@@ Jessica asks, looking over at you. You blink. @@.player;"Nothing."@@ @@.jessica;"You have a thought,"@@ Jessica says. And she's right. You //do// have a thought. And it's a thought that feels like it could change the whole direction of the pictures depending on how you say it. Why? Because you can see the fork in the road pretty clearly. You can go cute, soft, warm, fall, friendly, approachable. The kind of promo that makes people go "aw" and show up just because you're adorable. Or you can go hot. More confident, more striking, the kind of promo that makes people stare longer than they meant to. What should you go for? <<button "Suggest a cute vibe" "Day 24 - Fashion 4">>\<<set $d24fashionc2 to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Suggest a hot vibe" "Day 24 - Fashion 4">>\<<set $d24fashionc2 to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $d24fashionc2 is true>>\ @@.player;"Okay, what if we're overthinking it?"@@ you say, glancing at the last stiff test shot on Sierra's screen. @@.jessica;"How so?"@@ Jessica asks. You shrug, trying to keep your voice casual. @@.player;"Like, the dress is already pretty and the fall showcase is literally next week. What if we just go cute? Like, cozy fall vibe. Something that'll make people go "aw" and show up."@@ Sierra's expression goes blank, like she's running the idea through her internal quality filter, before she nods. @@.girl;"Cute is good,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"That's a good idea."@@ @@.jessica;"I can work with cute,"@@ Jessica says, smirking. @@.girl;"Cute it is, then,"@@ Sierra says, lifting the eyeFone and stepping back a couple paces. @@.girl;"Let's make it look adorable as hell."@@ You and Jessica move back into position. She slides into place beside you, and you instantly feel less stiff. Not because you suddenly transformed into a professional model or anything, but because she knows how to stand with someone without making it weird. She's done this thousand of times, of course, at group photos and pep rallies and school events. @@.jessica;"Okay, so, cute vibe,"@@ Jessica murmurs, glancing at you. @@.jessica;"Just copy me, alright?"@@ @@.girl;"Okay, for the first shot, stand closer,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"Like you're good friends."@@ You and Jessica shuffle a little closer. The dress shifts as you move, the fabric settling in a way that feels far smoother than last week. Jessica angles her body slightly toward you and relaxes her shoulders. You do your best to match it. Sierra raises the eyeFone. @@.girl;"Big smiles!"@@ You and Jessica smile, and Sierra takes the shot. //Click.// Jessica keeps the smile easy. It's not the camera smile most people do, it feels natural. Like someone just said something funny. You try to do the same, and it helps that the room around you is still chaotic around you in a way that's genuinely kind of funny. @@.girl;"That's better than the test shots already,"@@ Sierra says. You and Jessica lean it to look. The photo actually does look cute, but it could be cuter. @@.girl;"For the next photo, do peace signs,"@@ Sierra says. You blink. @@.player;"Peace signs?"@@ @@.jessica;"It //is// a classic,"@@ Jessica says, already raising two fingers. @@.jessica;"C'mon, you can do it too."@@ You do it, but somehow you manage to fuck it up at first. Jessica helps by quietly adjusting you, nudging your wrist down and angling your fingers. Sierra starts taking photos. //Click click.// @@.girl;"Not bad, not bad,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"Heart hands next."@@ Jessica seems to have no hesitation, turning immediately. @@.jessica;"Alright. Put 'em here."@@ She brings her hand up in front of her chest and forms half a heart. You form the other half with your hand. You connect the shape properly, the heart forming between you. @@.girl;"Hold!"@@ Sierra says. //Click click click.// @@.girl;"Oh, that's the one,"@@ Sierra says. @@.jessica;"Oh my God,"@@ Jessica says, leaning in closer to look. @@.jessica;"That is ''so'' cute."@@ You look too, and your cheeks warm a little, because it actually is really cute. @@.girl;"Now, both of you cup your faces,"@@ Sierra says, already moving on. You blink. @@.player;"Cup my face?"@@ Jessica demonstrates. She puts both hands under her cheeks, elbows slightly out, innocent smile on her face. @@.jessica;"Like this, $name,"@@ she says. Even though you're embarrassed, you go along with it, lifting both hands to your cheek. @@.girl;"That's adorable,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"Smile just a //littleee// wider. Tilt your head. There we go. Hold that."@@ //Click click click.// @@.girl;"That's perfect for the flyer,"@@ Sierra says, smirking. @@.jessica;"Cute is easy,"@@ Jessica says, grinning. @@.player;"Easy for you, maybe,"@@ you retort, but you're smiling too. You can hear a couple of club members reacting to your poses. Little @@.girl;"aww"@@ noises, someone whispering @@.girl;"that's ''so'' cute,"@@ someone else giggling. Sierra holds the phone back up. @@.girl;"Alright. For the next pose, I want something that feels like 'besties.'"@@ Jessica taps your arm lightly, forcing it to move, then hooks her arms around yours in a casual way. You freeze for half a second before relaxing into it. @@.jessica;"Smile,"@@ Jessica whispers. You do, and Sierra snaps the shot. //Click.// @@.girl;"I think we're good,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"Look at these. These worked!"@@ The pictures are genuinely adorable. The face-cupping pose, as embarrassing as it was, looks charming on screen. @@.jessica;"These are so good,"@@ Jessica says. Sierra nods, satisfied. @@.girl;"This is exactly the vibe. It sells the showcase as fun and welcoming."@@ @@.player;"I just can't believe that didn't look cringe,"@@ you say, stunned. @@.jessica;"It's only cringe if you're not fully committed,"@@ Jessica says. @@.girl;"And you committed,"@@ Sierra adds. <<elseif $d24fashionc2 is false>>\ @@.player;"Okay, what if we go hot?"@@ you say. @@.player;"Not in a weird way, but to show we're confident. Like we know what we're doing and we're not ashamed of anything."@@ Sierra's face goes still as she processes what's going on. Then her mouth twitches. It's not a smile exactly, but the expression of someone who just got handed the missing puzzle piece. @@.jessica;"Oh my,"@@ Jessica says, eyes lighting up. Sierra nods, decisive. @@.girl;"Yes."@@ @@.player;"Really?"@@ you ask. @@.girl;"Yes,"@@ Sierra repeats. @@.girl;"Hot gets attention. Hot gets eyes. Hot is good."@@ Jessica gives you an amused look. @@.jessica;"Honestly, I just didn't know you had that in you."@@ @@.player;"I'm full of surprises,"@@ you say, shrugging like it's nothing. @@.girl;"Alright,"@@ Sierra says, already stepping back and lifting the eyeFone. @@.girl;"If we're doing confident, you need structure, clean lines, and angles. You need to look less like you're just standing next to each other and more like you're a duo."@@ @@.jessica;"I'll cue you,"@@ Jessica says, slipping into position. @@.jessica;"Just follow me, alright?"@@ @@.player;"I mean, I'll try,"@@ you say, trying to sound calmer than you feel. Sierra waves her hand. @@.girl;"You two, get closer. Not to the point where you're touching, but the space has gotta be tight. Like you actually chose to be in the same frame."@@ You step in, and Jessica adjusts at the same time so it all looks intentional. The dress shifts with you like it's cooperating. You feel your shoulders settle and your posture gets taller without you thinking about it. @@.jessica;"Chin a little down,"@@ Jessica murmurs. @@.jessica;"Eyes up."@@ You do it, and it immediately changes everything. It's not you, $name, trying to be sexy. It's like you're actually fucking sexy. You're looking at the camera instead of letting it look at you. Sierra takes a picture. //Click// Jessica leans in real quick to check the screen and makes a small satisfied sound. @@.jessica;"Oh, that's already better."@@ @@.girl;"Good,"@@ Sierra says, nodding. @@.girl;"Now we build on that. Jessica, give me a strong shoulder line. $name, angle your body a little and let the dress do the work."@@ You pivot slightly, putting one foot forward, and suddenly the hem falls in a way that looks like it was designed exactly for this. Your hands hover for a second because hands are always the damn problem. Jessica quietly reaches out and taps your wrist with two fingers, guiding it down. @@.jessica;"Relax your hand. Let it hang like you're bored."@@ @@.player;"Like I'm bored?"@@ you repeat, trying not to laugh. @@.jessica;"Not bored like you hate it or anything,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Bored like you're so used to being photographed it doesn't even bother you anymore."@@ You exhale, and Jessica seems to have a point, because something clicks. You let your face go neutral and let your hand hang. Sierra snaps a few shots in quick succession. //Click click click// @@.girl;"Nice,"@@ Sierra says, approving. Jessica shifts, turning her body so her autumn outfit frames the blue dress. Warm tones beside cool tones. She tilts her head just enough to look effortless before glancing at you and giving you a tiny look. It's like she's saying it's your turn now. You step into it without overthinking. Lifting your chin a fraction, letting your gaze sharpen, and putting just a little weight into one hip. @@.girl;"Hold!"@@ Sierra says, making a noise like she just found exactly what she wanted. @@.girl;"Hold that. Don't move an inch."@@ //Click// Jessica leans closer to you, doing this subtle thing where she angles her shoulder toward you. It's almost protective-looking, like she's saying you and her are a team. Oh shit, this is the vibe. This is the "stop scrolling" thing Sierra was talking about. //Click// @@.girl;"Okay, now switch energy,"@@ Sierra says, taking a step to the left. @@.girl;"Same confidence, but give me something that's going to make everyone stare."@@ @@.jessica;"That's easy,"@@ Jessica says, mouth curling slightly. @@.player;"For you? Of course it is,"@@ you mutter. Jessica hears you and almost laughs, but she manages to keep the expression. This calm, pretty, untouchable look. She tilts her head toward you again, then softly cues, @@.jessica;"Eyes half-lidded. Not sleepy. Just... unimpressed."@@ You try it, and it feels ridiculous in your head, but the second you see Sierra's expression, you know it's working. Sierra starts taking photos faster. //Click click click click click.// @@.girl;"Okay,"@@ Sierra says, @@.girl;"Jessica, look at $name for one shot."@@ You freeze. @@.player;"Huh?"@@ Jessica's not as hesitant. She turns her gaze to you, and it's warm. It turns the whole pose into something that not only looks intentional, but also looks charged. The two of you are the center of attention. Sierra's camera sound goes off again. //Click.// You keep your face steady, but you can feel your ears getting warm. You manage, barely, @@.player;"Do I look stupid?"@@ @@.jessica;"You don't,"@@ Jessica murmurs. You almost choke. @@.girl;"Hold it,"@@ Sierra interrupts, pleased. @@.girl;"That one is good."@@ Jessica turns her gaze back to the camera, and Sierra steps closer, squinting at the screen. @@.girl;"Alright. Now give me one where it's more playful but still hot. Like you're in on the same hilarious joke."@@ Jessica's eyes flick to you. @@.jessica;"Okay, $name. Smirk for me."@@ You do a small smirk, not a full grin. Jessica mirrors it. Suddenly, it looks like you two are sharing a secret. Hell, maybe the secret is that you both look amazing. Sierra snaps the shot and makes another satisfied noise. The room around is still chaotic, with people moving from place to place, but it fades into background noise. The little corner you're standing in becomes its own bubble of focus. Sierra takes a few more, and it's honestly quite fun. After the last click, Sierra lowers the eyeFone and swipes through the photos. The first one appears on your screen and your brain takes a second to realize that it's you. You look so... beautiful that it's hard to believe that that figure is you. Jessica beside you looks good, but she //always// looks good, so it doesn't mean as much as it would for others. You blink. @@.player;"Oh."@@ @@.jessica;"Ooh, that's great,"@@ Jessica says, pleased. Sierra scrolls, and the images keep hitting. Each one looks better than the test shots by a mile. It's like the moment you chose to be hot, the whole thing snapped into place. She finally stops and holds it there, satisfied. @@.girl;"These are perfect."@@ @@.jessica;"Absolutely perfect,"@@ Jessica says, smiling wide. You're still a little stunned, because you expected "good enough," not "amazing." <</if>>\ Someone nearby notices and wanders over. Then another. The next thing you know, a couple of club members are leaning in, making little impressed sounds. @@.girl;"That's insane,"@@ one of them says. @@.girl;"$name actually ate,"@@ someone else says, sounding delighted. @@.girl;"He's mother."@@ @@.player;"What does that mean?"@@ you sputter. Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"It means you did really good."@@ Sierra nods, holding the phone up like she's presenting evidence. @@.girl;"This is exactly what we needed. This is promo."@@ @@.jessica;"The pictures are perfect,"@@ Jessica says. And the room, already buzzing, pops into a new level of energy as people start celebrating. You just stand there in the dress, cheeks warm, trying to act normal while everyone celebrates you. But shit, it's kind of impossible not to feel a little proud. <<button "Photoshoot complete!" "Day 24 - Fashion 5">><</button>>

Sierra doesn't waste much time basking in the success of the photos. The second everyone's done crowding around the screen and making comments, she slips right back into leader mode. Despite her trying not to show it, you can still tell that she's kind of excited. @@.girl;"Alright, since we have what we need, we need to make it usable,"@@ Sierra says, already turning toward her laptop. She sets Jessica's eyeFone down carefully and starts moving things around to clear a little workspace for herself. Someone shoves a pile of hair clips out of the way. A measuring tape gets relocated. Sierra plugs in the charger and opens up the laptop. Jessica drifts over to you while Sierra pulls the photos up. She leans in slightly, voice low. @@.jessica;"You know she's actually ''really'' good at graphic design, right?"@@ @@.player;"Sierra?"@@ you ask, blinking. Jessica nods. @@.jessica;"Yeah. She does posters, layouts, edits, even drawings. She's kind of a nerd about it, but don't tell her I said that. She'll strangle me."@@ @@.player;"She doesn't seem like the type to enjoy sitting at a computer for hours,"@@ you say, glancing over at Sierra. Jessica's words seem to be right, though, because the club leader is clicking through files at the speed of light. @@.jessica;"She doesn't do it 'casue she //enjoys// it,"@@ Jessica says, giggling. @@.jessica;"She does it because the only person she can trust with making it perfect is herself."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Yeah, that tracks."@@ Sierra selects a handful of the best shots with decisive clicks. She's not doing the thing where she hesitates and second-guesses every option. She doesn't really need to do that. She just knows what looks good. After she's done with that, she opens the editing software and locks in. At first it's the small stuff. She straightens the farming, tweaks the lighting, and does subtle adjustments to the color. She smooths out some tiny distractions, removing an object on the floor that shouldn't have been in the frame. @@.player;"You're doing a lot,"@@ you say, kind of impressed. @@.girl;"I'm just fixing it,"@@ Sierra says, mouth curving slightly. @@.jessica;"I told you she's good,"@@ Jessica says to you, pleased. Sierra clicks again, and somehow the entire background changes. It goes from a messy club room to an aesthetic outdoor spot representative of Autumn. It truly does feel like a Fall Showcase now, instead of the truth, which is that you took the photos next to a rack while people were bustling around. @@.player;"That's not our club room,"@@ you say, blinking. @@.girl;"Correct,"@@ Sierra says. Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"She's not letting the chaos room represent us."@@ Sierra goes back to the screen, adjusting the edges. She adds a little blur in the background so the focus stays on you. She judges the lighting again so it matches. The end result looks great. It's kind of wild, really, seeing yourself in a polished photo. You look... really pretty. Not in the "good for a rushed club promo" way, but actually pretty. You stare at the screen way longer than you mean to. @@.player;"Sierra is kind of scary,"@@ you finally manage to say. @@.girl;"Thank you,"@@ Sierra says, not even looking up. @@.player;"That wasn't a compliment."@@ @@.girl;"I appreciate it anyway."@@ Jessica grins. Sierra keeps working, exporting a few different versions. She types quickly, naming files with speed. You catch a glimpse of a file name and realize she's already thinking about organization. It has the date, the event's title, and what it's meant to be for. @@.girl;"Alright, that's everything done!"@@ Sierra says, clicking into the folder and checking the results. @@.jessica;"These are so good,"@@ Jessica says, nodding with approval. Sierra closes the laptop shut and stretches. @@.girl;"I'll send them to print tomorrow. We should have physical flyers by the end of the day. I'll put them up after school."@@ @@.player;"We're going that fast?"@@ you ask. @@.girl;"Well, we //are// on a timeline,"@@ Sierra says, shrugging. She suddenly turns to you fully, tone softening. @@.girl;"But really, thank you for being willing to do this, $name. It helped massively."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, of course,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"No problem."@@ @@.jessica;"We just used you to save the showcase,"@@ Jessica adds, laughing. @@.player;"Why does that make it sound like I'm being sacrificed?"@@ you ask, glancing at her. Jessica smiles, sweetly unapologetic. @@.jessica;"Well, you're a very fashionable sacrifice."@@ Sierra laughs at that. @@.girl;"True. Anyway, that's enough. The both of you get changed, club's almost over."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, you're right,"@@ you say, looking down at yourself. @@.player;"That's probably a good idea."@@ And as you head back toward the changing screen, the room feels lighter than it did before with the problem solved. <<button "The end of another club block" "Day 24 - Fashion 6">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D24Fashion">>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ <<set $outfit to $tempoutfit>>\ You take a breath, check that you didn't accidentally leave a sock behind the screen, and step back out of the makeshift changing room. The room is still busy, but the energy has shifted. Instead of people being frantic and thinking they're about to die, everyone has realized it's the final stretch. People are actually hanging garments and folding fabric, instead of just leaving shit scattered around. Even the abandoned shoe has been retrieved and reunited with its partner. Up at the front, Sierra has moved into position. She's not standing on a table or anything dramatic like that, but she's in that spot by the whiteboard where her presence commands attention. A couple people are still chatting, but it clears the instant she clears her throat. @@.girl;"Okay, everyone,"@@ Sierra says. @@.girl;"We're almost out of time for today, so let's do a quick recap."@@ You drift closer to where Jessica is, hiding behind her a little. @@.girl;"The Fall Showcase is next week,"@@ she says. @@.girl;"This time on Wednesday in the MPR."@@ @@.girl;"Wait, it's Wednesday?"@@ someone says, alarmed. @@.girl;"It's been Wednesday,"@@ someone says. @@.girl;"I get that it's stressful,"@@ Sierra says softly. @@.girl;"But think about how hard all of you have worked. We made a lot of progress today, and we're nearly done. This is going to be a success. We just have to keep the energy up and finish strong."@@ @@.girl;"We can do it!"@@ a girl says. @@.girl;"Oh, and before we go, special thanks are due,"@@ Sierra says, gaze moving to the area you're standing in. Your stomach tightens. Oh shit, you know ''exactly'' where this is going. @@.girl;"Please thank Jessica and $name for the photoshoot today! The promo edits are done, and I'm sending everything to print. The flyers look great, and I'm sure we'll get people showing up."@@ You hide even further behind Jessica, but then the room starts clapping. It's enthuastic applause too, not just a short one for politeness. A few people cheer. One even whistles. It's the kind of reaction that makes your face heat up immediately. You try to do that thing where you look appreciative and chill, but your body is betraying you. Jessica turns toward you with a small smirk. @@.girl;"$name was a great sport,"@@ Sierra adds, gesturing vaguely at you. @@.girl;"The dress looked exactly the way it was meant to look."@@ That opens the floodgates. @@.girl;"Oh my God, it looked SO good,"@@ someone says loudly. @@.girl;"I've got to say that the fit was perfect,"@@ another person adds, nodding like they're a judge on a fashion show panel. @@.girl;"He should model for us permanently!"@@ someone in the back of the room says. You choke a little on air. @@.player;"Absolutely not."@@ That makes people laugh, including Sierra. @@.jessica;"They're not wrong, though,"@@ Jessica murmurs under her breath. You just stare at her, offended. @@.girl;"Alright, save the rest of your energy, because the showcase is going to take a ton,"@@ Sierra says, raising her hands a little. @@.girl;"We're not all done yet. There's still work to be done. Pack up now. Please don't leave things on the floor. If I find another single shoe abandoned, I'll scream."@@ @@.girl;"Sorry, that was me!"@@ someone says. The club goes back to normal, people returning to folding and hanging and grabbing their bags. When the bell rings, people immediately start moving. A few members pass you on the way out, tossing you quick compliments as they go. @@.girl;"Good job today, $name!"@@ @@.girl;"You looked awesome!"@@ @@.girl;"See you next week!"@@ You manage a few awkward thanks. Jessica steps up beside you as the room empties, slinging her bag over her shoulder as well. She looks relaxed as always, even after that entire ordeal. @@.jessica;"You survived,"@@ she says. You snort. @@.player;"Did I? Just barely, maybe. I think I lost five years of my life when Sierra mentioned me by name."@@ @@.jessica;"You did fine,"@@ Jessica says, laughing softly. @@.jessica;"People were happy."@@ @@.player;"I didn't think they'd... y'know... //clap//."@@ Jessica shrugs. @@.jessica;"People clap when they're impressed."@@ @@.player;"So you're saying they were impressed."@@ @@.girl;"Mhm,"@@ she says, like it's obvious. You both step out of the room into the hallway, letting the door swing shut behind you. You and Jessica laugh quietly together, thinking about the chaos you just survived. <<button "Time to eat lunch" "Day 24 - 4">><</button>>

You find the Occult Club room the way you always do: by following the vibe. The hallway gets quieter, the lights get dimmer, and the air starts feeling heavier the closer you get to it. You eventually make your way to the room. You take a deep breath, then push the door open, stepping in. It's the same as always. The lights are off, the only thing illuminating the room are some candles. There's a chalk circle on one corner of the floor that looks suspiciously intentional, and the scent in the air is faintly herbal. The desks have all been stacked on top of one another in the back of the room. Aurora is already there, perched on the top of the very top desk like she owns the room. She's not even trying to look normal anymore. She's got her eyes half-lidded like she knows something you don't and is holding a pen like it's a wand. And then there's Milo. He's sitting in a chair that's missing a leg yet somehow upright, bouncing his knee. The second he sees you, he lights up. @@.boy;"$name!"@@ Milo says, like you're a celebrity. @@.boy;"You're here! You made it! Welcome! Welcome back! I think today is going to be insane. Like in a good way. Like, this is what magic is for. Finally."@@ His goat, Nimbus, knocks over an umbrella with his hind legs. Aurora doesn't even look at him. She just gently drops down, strides over to Milo, and presses two fingers to Milo's forehead. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him stop yapping. @@.aurora;"Milo,"@@ she says, voice calm and absolutely deadly. Milo freezes mid-sentence. His eyes cross slightly as he tries to look at her fingers. @@.boy;"Yes, Aurora."@@ @@.aurora;"We are not saying 'insane' today,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"We are saying... 'strategically beneficial.'"@@ @@.boy;"Strategically beneficial, yes!"@@ Milo says, nodding rapidly. @@.boy;"We are being strategic."@@ Aurora's fingers stay on his forehead for an extra second, like she's checking if the lesson is actually going to stick. Then she pulls her hand back and flicks her wrist dismissively. Milo immediately begins bouncing his knee again. You can't help it. A laugh sneaks out of you. Aurora finally looks at you, a small smile on her face. @@.aurora;"Don't encourage him,"@@ she says, but there's no real bite to it. If anything, she sounds amused by Milo's antics. Milo puffs out his cheeks. @@.boy;"I'm not even doing anything!"@@ @@.aurora;"Your entire personality is 'doing something,'"@@ Aurora says, lifting a brow. @@.boy;"That's–"@@ Milo searches for words, offended. @@.boy;"That's not fair."@@ @@.aurora;"It's accurate,"@@ Aurora says sweetly. You drop your backpack onto a desk and slide into a chair. Aurora watches you settle in, tapping the pen in her hand against her knee. @@.aurora;"So,"@@ she says, eyes narrowing slightly, @@.aurora;"how's your day been, $name?"@@ It's such a normal question that it throws you off more than if she'd asked whether you'd gotten any news from the Mage Society. @@.player;"It's been..."@@ you start, then you realize there are a lot of ways to answer that, and some of them involve talking about your feelings, so you pick the safest one. @@.player;"It's been a day."@@ Milo nods like that's deeply profound. @@.boy;"Days do be days."@@ @@.aurora;"Thank you, Milo,"@@ Aurora says, mouth twitching. @@.aurora;"Your wisdom is an inspiration to us all."@@ @@.boy;"I learned from you!"@@ Milo says, proud. Aurora stares at him for one long second. @@.aurora;"That's concerning."@@ He beams even harder. You snort again, and Aurora's eyes flick back to you. She claps her hands together once, snapping the room to attention. @@.aurora;"Okay. Today's session is going to be about something that benefits us."@@ @@.boy;"YES!"@@ Milo exclaims. @@.aurora;"We are going to remove life's minor sufferings,"@@ Aurora continues. @@.player;"That's... a pretty big claim,"@@ you say. Aurora shrugs. @@.aurora;"Eh, not really. I said minor. I'm not fixing the entire world today. I don't like humanity enough to do overtime."@@ @@.boy;"I have SO many ideas,"@@ Milo begins, words tumbling out like he's been waiting all day for this. @@.boy;"Okay, okay, so like, what if we made it so you never step in a puddle with socks on? Or what if we enchant it so your hoodie strings are always the same length? Or like, you know when you're trying to plug in a USB and it's the wrong way three times even though that shouldn't be possible? We've GOT to fix that."@@ @@.aurora;"Milo, stop,"@@ Aurora says, speaking very gently. @@.aurora;"If you list another idea, I will curse your phone so it only charges at a weird angle."@@ Milo gasps. @@.boy;"You wouldn't!"@@ Aurora smiles. @@.aurora;"Try me."@@ @@.boy;"Okay, fine,"@@ Milo says. @@.boy;"I will be calm."@@ @@.aurora;"You won't, but I appreciate the lie,"@@ Aurora says, affectionate in the meanest way possible. @@.aurora;"$name, you get to choose,"@@ Aurora says, looking at you again. @@.aurora;"We have two options today. We can either stop phones from dying. Like completely. It won't lose charge, it won't break, it'll be perfect. Or we can prevent you from losing your pencil the exact second you need it."@@ Milo makes a strained, painful noise through his closed mouth. It's like he's trying to scream, but remembered he's under threat of the charging curse. You glance at him. @@.player;"Are you okay?"@@ Milo nods violently. Aurora's eyes return to you, bright with mischief now. @@.aurora;"So?"@@ she asks. @@.aurora;"Which minor suffering are we erasing today?"@@ <<button "Get a perfect phone" "Day 24 - Occult 2">>\<<set $d24occultc1 to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Prevent losing your pencil" "Day 24 - Occult 2">>\<<set $d24occultc1 to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $d24occultc1 is true>>\ You don't even hesitate. You've lived through enough phone trauma to know this is the real villain of modern life. @@.player;"I want the phone stuff,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Make it so they don't die. No batteries dying, screens glitching, the whole thing. Make phones stop being annoying."@@ @@.boy;"YES!"@@ Milo blurts out. Aurora lifts an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching. @@.aurora;"Good choice,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"All the benefits of having a phone with none of the downsides."@@ You pull out your phone. The battery's... fine right now, but you've been betrayed too many times to ever trust it completely. Your phone has died at the worst possible moment far too many times. Aurora takes two steps into the center of the room and makes a little gesture with her fingers. She manages to pinch a thread of her violet mana in the air. @@.aurora;"This one's nice and simple,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"A quality-of-life update."@@ @@.boy;"Yes!"@@ Milo says. Aurora holds her hand out, palms up. @@.aurora;"Phones."@@ You and Milo both hold your phones out in front of you. Milo's phone is honestly a fucking mess. The screen has a long crack running through it diagonally and the back has spiderwebbed shattered-glass. It's clear he drops the thing constantly. @@.player;"Dude,"@@ you say, looking at Milo. @@.player;"What happened to your phone?'@@ Milo shrugs. @@.boy;"Life happened."@@ Aurora's eyes flick to the cracked screen and she makes the tiniest, most judgmental noise. It's not even a full sigh. She doesn't have energy for that anymore after months of dealing with Milo. It's just a compressed sigh. @@.aurora;"Of course,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"Alright, listen carefully. I'm binding your devices to a protective field keyed to your personal signature. It will prevent physical damage, degradation, anything."@@ @@.boy;"Yesss,"@@ Milo hisses. You can't help laughing. @@.aurora;"Keep your phones out and think of them as extensions of you."@@ You oblige. Aurora closes her eyes. She moves her fingers as she talks, drawing lines in the air with mana. Looping and twisting them, like she's braiding the strands of magic. You feel it before you understand it. A faint pressure around your phone. The candles on the windowsill flicker. Then, Aurora finishes with a soft snap of her fingers. There's a tiny //pop// in the air, like a bubble bursting. @@.aurora;"Done,"@@ she says. Milo stares at her in disbelief. @@.boy;"That's it?"@@ @@.aurora;"That's it,"@@ Aurora replies. @@.player;"How do we even know it worked?"@@ you say. @@.aurora;"Turn it on and check,"@@ Aurora says simply. You turn your phone on and look at the screen, and the battery reads 100%. You blink, because you know it wasn't 100% earlier. Not unless time reversed, or you somehow charged it with your mana. Milo makes a strangled noise, shoving his phone real close to his face. @@.boy;"WAIT. MINE'S AT 100!"@@ @@.aurora;"Yes,"@@ Aurora says. Milo taps at his screen like it might be a hallucination. @@.boy;"I literally came in here at like... 8%."@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"There's still several hours of school left. You came in before lunch at only 8%?"@@ Milo nods. @@.boy;"I like living dangerously."@@ @@.aurora;"Well, you won't have to anymore,"@@ Aurora mutters, sighing. Milo looks like he might cry tears of joy. Then he notices something else, and his whole face changes. His cracked screen is not cracked anymore. He turns it over. The glass back is pristine too. Smooth and perfect, like it never got launched into the pavement. @@.boy;"Oh,"@@ he whispers. Then he screams, @@.boy;"OH MY GOD!"@@ Aurora flinches just slightly. @@.aurora;"Inside voices, please."@@ Milo grabs the phone with both hands and shakes it. @@.boy;"IT HEALED ITSELF."@@ @@.aurora;"It reverted to a protected state,"@@ Aurora corrects. @@.boy;"$name, I have been reborn,"@@ Milo says, looking at you intensely. @@.player;"I mean, you've gotta admit that's cool,"@@ you say, glancing at Aurora. @@.aurora;"I will admit it's strategically beneficial,"@@ Aurora says, smile twitching. @@.player;"So, how are we meant to test it?"@@ you ask. Aurora tilts her head. @@.aurora;"Try to break it."@@ @@.boy;"YES!"@@ Milo says, eyes lighting up with dangerous enthusiasm. @@.player;"We can't just break our phones,"@@ you say, hesitating. Aurora looks at you. @@.aurora;"$name. It's protected. Worst case scenario, you learn I lied and your phone breaks."@@ @@.player;"Do you lie?"@@ you ask. Aurora smiles angelically. @@.aurora;"Never."@@ @@.boy;"She's lying!"@@ Milo whispers. @@.aurora;"Milo,"@@ Aurora mutters, glaring at him. He shuts up instantly. You take a breath and hold your phone out. @@.player;"Okay. Battery test first. I'm not ready to body-slam my phone yet."@@ Milo is already moving, like his entire body was built for this moment. He cranks his brightness to full. He turns on Bluetooth, Wi-Fi, hotspot, everything. He opens, like, twelve apps at once. Then he grins and opens HonShin Zero. @@.boy;"Max settings,"@@ Milo whispers, eyes gleaming. @@.boy;"Full brightness. Highest graphics. Double the usual frame rate."@@ Aurora watches calmly. You watch Milo's screen explode into vivid colors. After the game loads, Milo immediately starts doing the most battery-killing behavior possible. He spins the camera, fast-travels from place to place, and spams the gacha screen. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, pulling your own phone out. @@.player;"I'm doing it too. I'll put my phone on full brightness, put on an 8K video, and record my screen while it plays."@@ Your phone is doing everything it's not supposed to do at the same time. It should be hot and throttling itself, but it doesn't. Even after a few minutes, the battery is still at 100%. @@.boy;"Mine is still at 100%,"@@ Milo whispers. @@.aurora;"Mhm,"@@ Aurora says, smiling like she's watching a magic trick she already knows the ending to. @@.aurora;"Told you."@@ Milo escalates immediately. @@.boy;"Heat test!"@@ @@.aurora;"Do not attempt to set your phone on fire,"@@ Aurora says, eyes narrowing. @@.boy;"I wasn't gonna set it on fire."@@ Aurora gives him a knowing look. @@.boy;"Okay. Fine. Physical damage test."@@ He takes his phone and, very gently at first, scratches the screen with a pen. There's nothing. He scratches harder. Still nothing. He grabs a rock out of his backpack and slams it against the screen. You flinch instinctively. @@.player;"Milo, relax."@@ The screen doesn't even scuff. @@.boy;"It's invincible,"@@ Milo whispers. @@.aurora;"Protected,"@@ Aurora corrects. Your own curiosity starts catching fire now. You pull out a key and scratch your screen. You expect at least a faint line, but there's nothing. Milo looks around the room like he needs a bigger challenge. His eyes land on Aurora. @@.boy;"Can we throw them?"@@ @@.aurora;"You may,"@@ Aurora says, smirking. You hesitate again. @@.player;"I don't think that's a good–"@@ Milo lobs his phone across the room. It hits the floor with a solid, horrifying //clack// and slides. You wince while Milo sprints over to it. But when he snatches it up and checks it, it's in perfect condition. He holds it up like a trophy. @@.boy;"ZERO DAMAGE!"@@ Aurora's eyes glint with amusement. @@.aurora;"You've gotta try harder than that. My magic is quite strong, you know."@@ Milo's staring at you expectantly, which means it's your turn. You swallow. @@.player;"Okay. Fine."@@ You toss yours, but more gently. It bounces once before landing face-down. When you grab it though, there's not a scratch. Milo is now in fully in chaos mode. He sets his phone on the floor like he's preparing a ritual. @@.boy;"Okay. We need to go bigger. $name, jump on it."@@ @@.player;"No,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"Come on, just a little!"@@ Milo begs, eyes shining. @@.aurora;"I think you should do it,"@@ Aurora says, leaning back like she's settling in for entertainment. @@.aurora;"If you trust me and my magic, you would."@@ @@.player;"You're both insane,"@@ you murmur, but you end up obliging. You lift one foot and press down carefully on Milo's phone. Nothing. You press down harder, but there's still nothing. @@.boy;"LAME!"@@ Milo yells. He pushes you out of the way and starts jumping up and down as fast as he can. The phone remains perfect. @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you murmur, not quite knowing how to react. Nimbus, Milo's goat familiar, bleats. He's chewing on something, each eye looking in a different direction. @@.boy;"Oh my God, Nimbus!"@@ Milo exclaims. @@.boy;"Nimbus, we need you."@@ @@.aurora;"Oh no,"@@ Aurora says worriedly. Her body languages says different though, as she's leaning forward. Milo holds his phone up to Nimbus' mouth. @@.boy;"Nimbus, bite,"@@ Milo coos. Nimbus stares at the phone. Nimbus stares at Milo. Nimbus bleats in a way that sounds like a sigh. Then Nimbus lowers his head and bites the phone. Nothing happens. Nimbus chomps down harder, like he's offended the phone exists. Yet, it stays completely fine. Nimbus lifts his head and bleats, sounding annoyed by the fact that he failed. @@.boy;"HE COULDN'T DO IT!"@@ Milo gasps. @@.aurora;"Nimbus has met his match,"@@ Aurora murmurs, looking delighted. Nimbus bleats one more time, sounding resigned. It seems he's accepted that his humans are like this and there's nothing he can do about it. <<elseif $d24occultc1 is false>>\ You think about the options in your head like you're deciding your destiny, and somehow the one that's been bugging you for the longest time wins. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I want you to make it impossible to lose my pencil."@@ @@.boy;"YES!"@@ Milo exclaims. Aurora's eyebrows lift, and then her mouth curves into a small, pleased smile. It's clear she approves of your choice, but she still finds it amusing that you picked the most mundane suffering possible. @@.aurora;"Excellent,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"The most ancient and persistent curse of academia."@@ @@.boy;"Pencils have a mind of their own!"@@ Milo says, nodding violently. @@.boy;"They just, like, leave."@@ Aurora looks at him. @@.aurora;"It's called 'dropping it,' Milo."@@ @@.boy;"It's more than dropping,"@@ Milo insists. @@.boy;"You set it down for one second, and then it teleports under the desk."@@ @@.aurora;"Sure. Yes. The pencil doesn't just roll off the table. That would be too reasonable. It //teleports//."@@ Milo takes that completely seriously. @@.boy;"Exactly."@@ You snort. @@.aurora;"Alright,"@@ Aurora says, clapping her hands once. @@.aurora;"Everyone grab a pencil."@@ Aurora reaches into her backpack and pulls out a pencil as well. Just a normal yellow pencil, with an eraser that's definitely been gnawed on. @@.player;"Where did you get that?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"Found it on the floor in the hallway,"@@ Aurora says, holding it up. @@.aurora;"It called to me."@@ @@.boy;"The chosen pencil!"@@ Milo exclaims, gasping. Aurora nods gravely. @@.aurora;"Indeed."@@ You pat your backpack and pull out a plain mechanical pencil from your pencil pouch. Milo immediately produces one too, except his is decorated with little runes and stickers. @@.aurora;"Of course your pencil's like that,"@@ Aurora says, examining Milo's pencil. Milo smiles proudly. @@.boy;"I enchanted it last week. It's supposed to make my handwriting prettier."@@ @@.aurora;"Did it work?"@@ @@.boy;"Not really..."@@ Aurora sighs. @@.aurora;"Alright. Pencils in hand."@@ You and Milo hold your pencils up like you're about to swear an oath. Aurora stands in front of you, fingers of one hand loosely wrapped around the scavenged hallway pencil. The other hand lifts as well, and the air immediately starts feeling different as violet tethers of mana appear. @@.aurora;"Okay, so this is a tether spell,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Simple concept. The pencil is bound to you. It can move. It can be taken. But it cannot be lost. If it's separated from you for too long, it returns."@@ @@.player;"Returns from where?"@@ you ask. Aurora smirks. @@.aurora;"The Pencil Dimension."@@ Milo whispers, reverent, @@.boy;"I knew it."@@ @@.player;"Aurora,"@@ you mutter. @@.aurora;"Yes, yes, I'm joking,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Let's get on with the spell."@@ Aurora's eyes close, and more mana starts pouring out. She lifts her hand and draws an invisible triangle in the air between the three of you. One sweep from Milo, to you, then back to herself. The candles flicker once. Aurora snaps her fingers, and the air gives the tiniest little //thrum//. Aurora lowers her hand and leans back against a desk, satisfied. @@.aurora;"All done,"@@ she says. @@.boy;"Done???"@@ Milo asks, eyes huge. @@.boy;"That was... that was so clean! So efficient!"@@ @@.aurora;"That's how spells are meant to go,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"They usually don't result in fireworks like yours do."@@ Milo looks personally attacked. @@.boy;"But fireworks are fun."@@ @@.player;"I'm so sorry you have to deal with this, Aurora,"@@ you say, nodding solemnly. @@.boy;"Hey!"@@ Aurora waves her hand lazily. @@.aurora;"Alright. For the three of us, it's now impossible to lose pencils. Congratulations. You're free."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Okay, but how do we even test that?"@@ @@.aurora;"Try losing a pencil,"@@ Aurora says, smile widening. @@.player;"That's not possible,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You can't lose a pencil on purpose. They just disappear on their own."@@ Milo is already halfway out of his chair. @@.boy;"I CAN DO IT!"@@ Before you can say anything, Milo stands, holds his pencil up like he's about to throw a javelin, and launches it across the room. It clatters against the whiteboard tray, bounces, and skitters under a desk. @@.boy;"It's gone!"@@ Milo says dramatically. Aurora looks down at her nails like she's bored. @@.aurora;"Is it?"@@ Milo crouches and reaches under the desk, rummaging around. @@.boy;"It's under here. Wait. No. Wait. Where?"@@ You snicker. @@.player;"Keep looking. It's just under there."@@ @@.boy;"No, I saw it,"@@ Milo insists, still digging around. @@.boy;"It went under..."@@ He stops and pats his pocket absentmindedly, then freezes. He pulls his hand out... and is holding the same pencil. He stares at it in disbelief. @@.boy;"Oh,"@@ he whispers. Then he screams, @@.boy;"OH MY GOD!"@@ Aurora laughs quietly. @@.aurora;"Told you."@@ Milo turns the pencil over in his hands. @@.boy;"It came back. It came back to me. It chose me."@@ @@.aurora;"It didn't choose you,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"I bound it to you. Completely different things."@@ Milo clutches it to his chest anyway. @@.boy;"It loves me."@@ You're grinning now too, because this is oddly satisfying. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say. @@.player;"My turn."@@ You walk to the side of the room, drop your pencil on the floor, and kick it under a filing cabinet. It disappears into the dusty darkness like it's going to live there forever and build a cute little pencil family. @@.player;"It's gone,"@@ you say, dusting your hands. @@.boy;"It's ''so'' gone,"@@ Milo says. @@.aurora;"Wait five seconds,"@@ Aurora states. You cross your arms and count in your head. One... two... three... four– On four, you feel something tap against your leg. You look down and see your pencil sitting on the floor right next to your shoe. @@.player;"What the hell,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"That was creepy. It literally teleported."@@ @@.aurora;"It doesn't teleport,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"It returns. There's nuance there, you know."@@ Milo is jumping around. @@.boy;"This is the best day of my life."@@ @@.player;"Hmm, would it work if someone stole it?"@@ you say, picking up the pencil and twisting it between your fingers. @@.aurora;"Try,"@@ Aurora says simply. @@.boy;"I'm stealing $name's pencil!"@@ Milo says. He snatches it from your hand, bolts behind a desk, and crams your pencil into his backpack. He zips his backpack and throws it across the room for good measure. @@.boy;"It's gone!"@@ You open your mouth to speak when you feel your pocket twitch. You reach in and your fingers close around plastic. You pull out your pencil. Milo's jaw drops. @@.boy;"No way. It escaped."@@ @@.aurora;"It returned,"@@ Aurora corrects. @@.boy;"Okay okay okay. Next test: Nimbus."@@ Nimbus bleats. @@.aurora;"What are you doing?"@@ Aurora asks cautiously. Milo snatches your pencil yet again and holds it up like he's offering a snack. @@.boy;"Nimbus! Eat this!"@@ @@.player;"NIMBUS NO!"@@ you shout, but Nimbus has already opened his mouth. The goat chomps the pencil with horrifying efficiency, and starts chewing. There's an unmistakable crunch. Your soul leaves your body. You stare at Milo. @@.player;"Did you just feed my pencil to your goat?"@@ Milo nods. @@.boy;"For science."@@ @@.aurora;"It's magic,"@@ Aurora murmurs. Nimbus chews a few more times, swallows, then bleats again. A few seconds later, you feel a familiar tap against your thigh. Lo and behold, the pencil is in your pocket. Perfectly intact, of course. @@.player;"That's terrifying."@@ Milo throws both arms up. @@.boy;"IT'S IMMORTAL!"@@ Aurora bursts out laughing. She covers her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to hide it, but fails. @@.aurora;"Oh my God,"@@ she says, voice bright with amusement. @@.aurora;"You seriously let your familiar eat a pencil?"@@ @@.boy;"Nimbus was hungry!"@@ Milo says, looking extremely proud. Aurora wipes at the corner of her eye like she laughed hard enough to tear up. @@.aurora;"Alright,"@@ she says, still smiling. @@.aurora;"I'd say the spell works."@@ @@.player;"I'd say it does,"@@ you echo. Nimbus bleats in agreement. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - Occult 3">><</button>>

Aurora lets you have your little victory lap for a minute. She's not heartless, after all. She seems amused, but still ready to intervene the second you do something that would get the club room permanently damaged. @@.aurora;"Alright,"@@ Aurora says after a minute, stopping you guys. @@.aurora;"Now that you've seen what a properly cast quality-of-life spell looks like..."@@ Milo straightens instantly. @@.boy;"Yes ma'am!"@@ @@.aurora;"You're up,"@@ Aurora says, pointing at him. Milo's face lights up. @@.boy;"Me?"@@ @@.aurora;"Yes you,"@@ Aurora says. @@.boy;"Okay. Okay. I can do this. I've been training."@@ Aurora blinks. @@.aurora;"You never do any of the homework I assign you."@@ @@.boy;"It's too hard,"@@ Milo wails. Aurora's mouth twitches. @@.aurora;"That's the point."@@ She folds her arms and gestures vaguely at the world around you. @@.aurora;"Pick a minor inconvenience and fix it. Nothing complicated, please. No sentience, portals, or fireworks."@@ Milo nods so hard his hair bounces. @@.boy;"Got it. Minor inconvenience. Simple. Safe."@@ He pauses, eyes going distant in that way that means he's about to pick something way out of his skill level. Then he snaps his fingers. @@.boy;"Shoelaces!"@@ @@.aurora;"Shoelaces,"@@ Aurora repeats, eyes narrowing. @@.boy;"Shoelaces are annoying because you tie them and they come undone, and then you're walking and then you step on them and then you die, it's literally a death trap, so I will make them stay perfectly tied at all times."@@ Aurora exhales through her nose. @@.aurora;"That's actually reasonable."@@ Milo beams. @@.aurora;"Okay,"@@ Aurora says, holding up a finger. @@.aurora;"Explain your approach before you do it."@@ Milo nods rapidly. @@.boy;"Yes. So I will apply a stability charm. Like... constant tension equalization. A knot-preservation rune. The lace will remember its tied state and everything will work."@@ @@.aurora;"Wow,"@@ Aurora says, smiling. @@.aurora;"Well done. That's actually a really good answer. Go on ahead."@@ Milo takes a deep breath. @@.boy;"Okay. Minor spell. Easy."@@ He starts muttering under his breath. Half of it is an actual incantation, and the other half is Milo making up confidence noises. His fingers make quick little motions as he messes with his mana. The air around the shoe shifts, faintly, like heat haze. Shit, he's actually doing it. But then Milo says something too fast. Aurora's eyes widen. @@.aurora;"Oh no. Milo."@@ The shoelaces jerk like they've been startled awake. Then, before anyone can react, the laces whip upward, writhing like two angry snakes. Milo squeaks. @@.boy;"Oh."@@ The shoelaces make a sound. Not a normal sound, but a high-pitched, furious scream. You freeze. @@.player;"Are your shoelaces screaming?"@@ @@.aurora;"It seems they are,"@@ Aurora says, pinching the bridge of her nose. Milo stares at his own shoe in horror and fascination. @@.boy;"I gave them life."@@ @@.aurora;"Congratulations,"@@ Aurora says dryly. @@.aurora;"You created screaming shoelaces."@@ The laces launch themselves off Milo's shoe completely and start zooming around the room like they're trying to escape captivity. They slap against desks, whip around chair legs, and do fast little loops in the air like they're doing victory laps. They scream the entire time too, like a kettle whistle. Milo flails. @@.boy;"COME BACK! I DIDN'T MEAN IT!"@@ The laces whip past him at head height and scream louder, like they took that personally. Aurora doesn't move again. She just watches, eyes half-lidded, expression like this is the thousandth time this has happened. She sighs loudly, reconsidering the choice she made to mentor him. @@.aurora;"Milo, stop chasing them,"@@ she says, voice calm. @@.aurora;"You're making it fun for them."@@ Milo stops mid-step, panting. @@.boy;"They're having fun?"@@ Aurora points at the shrieking shoelaces as they do a lap around the room like it's a racetrack. @@.aurora;"I mean, just look at them."@@ The laces scream again and ricochet off the whiteboard. Milo whispers, devastated, @@.boy;"They're mocking me."@@ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"Indeed."@@ Then Aurora finally lifts a hand. She makes a simple motion, like she's pinching a fly out of the air. The shoelaces freeze mid-flight, but they're still screaming. Aurora flicks her wrist. The screaming cuts off instantly. The laces go limp and drop neatly back into Milo's hands, perfectly normal fabric again. Aurora leans back and exhales. @@.aurora;"No sentience,"@@ she repeats, looking straight at Milo. @@.aurora;"I said no sentience."@@ Milo cradles his shoelaces like he's just been through something traumatic. @@.boy;"I didn't try to! I was just trying to make them stay tied."@@ Aurora gives him a look that somehow manages to be both judgmental and affectionate. @@.aurora;"At this pace, you're not going to get to accompany me on missions."@@ Milo's shoulders slump. @@.boy;"I'm sorry."@@ @@.aurora;"You're not in trouble,"@@ Aurora says, eyes softening. @@.aurora;"You're just... Milo."@@ Milo perks up slightly, like that's a compliment. Aurora turns her gaze to you. @@.aurora;"Alright, it's your turn, $name."@@ @@.player;"My turn to what?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"Fix a minor inconvenience,"@@ Aurora says, eyebrows lifting. @@.aurora;"I'd prefer if you don't make anything start screaming."@@ Milo leans toward you, whispering intensely. @@.boy;"Don't give it life. Don't give it life. Don't give it life."@@ @@.aurora;"Milo."@@ He snaps his mouth shut. @@.aurora;"Pick something small,"@@ Aurora says, folding her arms. @@.aurora;"Something annoying that you want gone forever."@@ <<button "Make it so your clothes never wrinkle" "Day 24 - Occult 4">>\<<set $d24occultc2 to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Make it so the occult club door never creaks loudly" "Day 24 - Occult 4">>\<<set $d24occultc2 to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $d24occultc2 is true>>\ You stare at your options for a second, and your brain instantly flashes a montage of every time you've pulled a shirt out of your closet thinking it looked fine, only to realize after you put it on that you look like you slept in a laundry basket. @@.player;"Clothes,"@@ you decide. @@.player;"No wrinkles. Ever."@@ Milo makes a reverent sound. @@.boy;"That's... so powerful."@@ Aurora's eyebrows lift like she's pleasantly surprised by your choice. @@.aurora;"You made a good decision,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"Wrinkles are a petty evil."@@ Milo nods solemnly. @@.boy;"Fabric shouldn't remember trauma."@@ @@.aurora;"I mean... true,"@@ Aurora says. Milo beams like he just got praised by a teacher. Aurora crosses her arms and leans back against a desk, watching you with a half-smirk. @@.aurora;"Okay. Explain your approach."@@ @@.player;"My approach?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"Yes,"@@ Aurora replies. @@.aurora;"We're not doing 'vibe casting' today. You're talented enough to pull it off based off vibes, but for higher-level spells, it's good to have an approach. We're learning today, so tell me what you're trying to do before you do it. I'll stop you if you give me an approach where it's possible to accidentally give your top sentience."@@ @@.boy;"Don't make the same mistake I did,"@@ Milo whispers. You ignore him and think through it for half a second. Magic in your head is still weird and new, but you've gotten used to the feeling of shaping it. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"Wrinkles are like creases. The fabric settling into a shape after being bent or compressed."@@ Aurora nods. @@.player;"So I want the fabric to always return to its smooth shape,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Like a default state. It can move, obviously, but it won't hold the crease."@@ @@.aurora;"Good,"@@ Aurora says, smiling. @@.aurora;"That's the correct concept. You're anchoring a 'rest state' and giving it priority."@@ Your stomach tightens a little, because hearing her say it's correct makes it feel more real. Like, okay. This isn't just you making shit up. You can actually do this with your mana. You sit up, take a breath, and pull at the sleeve of your top. If you're going to do a spell about wrinkles, you might as well use your own clothes as the test subject. You pinch a section of fabric between your fingers and deliberately crumple it into a little mess. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, more to yourself than to them. @@.player;"Default state smooth."@@ You focus on the feeling under your fingers. The fabric texture and the shape it wants to settle into. Then you reach inward, toward that place where magic sits, and you pull. It's like grabbing a thread and drawing it out of your chest. You let the lavender mana gather in your palm, and the air around your hand starts to feel slightly heavier. Your fingers tingle. You taste something sweet. @@.aurora;"Careful there,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Don't brute-force it. You're not ironing reality. You're simply persuading it."@@ @@.player;"Persuading,"@@ you repeat under your breath, because that actually does help. You ease off the pressure you're putting on it and try to guide instead of shove. The magic shifts. It feels less like a fist and more like a hand. You drag your thumb lightly over the wrinkled patch, breathing in and out. You're just changing what easiest means. Smooth becomes the path of least resistance. The wrinkles soften, the spell steadies, and then you release your hands. You stare at your shirt, waiting for it to betray you, but it doesn't. The area you crumpled is smooth again, like it never happened. It's fully smooth. And not just there, the entire top is free of wrinkles. Even your pants are smooth. @@.boy;"Woah!"@@ Milo exclaims. He immediately grabs the front of his own shirt in both fists and crumples it violently like he's trying to torture it into wrinkling. @@.player;"Hold up, Milo,"@@ you say. Too late. He crushes it, twists it, even does this weird scrunch motion like he's kneading dough. Then he lets go and stares at his shirt. It snaps back into perfect smoothness in a second, like the fabric refuses to remember what he did to it. @@.boy;"NO WAY!"@@ Milo says, looking like his brain is melting. He does it again. Even harder this time. Smooth again. He starts laughing, delighted, and then he goes for your sleeve too. Tugging it, wrinkling it, trying to make it hold a crease. But it won't. Milo whispers, reverent, @@.boy;"We are unstoppable."@@ @@.player;"What did you do?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"Helped,"@@ Milo whispers. Aurora watches Milo's antics with open amusement now, arms folded, clearly enjoying the chaos. @@.aurora;"Congratulations,"@@ she says to you, voice dry. @@.aurora;"You just made the iron industry go out of business."@@ @@.player;"Is it permanent?"@@ you ask, looking down at your shirt again, kind of proud. @@.aurora;"It'll stay smooth for as long as the spell holds,"@@ Aurora says. Her eyes flick over you like she's assessing your magic. @@.aurora;"Which, given your output? It'll be a while."@@ Milo, still scrunching his shirt like an idiot, says, @@.boy;"$name, this is the best thing that's ever happened to me."@@ @@.aurora;"Your standards are so low,"@@ Aurora comments, sighing. @@.boy;"Yes!"@@ Milo says, nodding. You laugh, because honestly, same. You just erased a tiny daily annoyance using magic. Your magic! That's gotta count for something. Aurora taps her pen against her knee like she's wrapping up the lesson. @@.aurora;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You did good. You accomplished what you set out to do and didn't give your hoodie a mouth."@@ Milo whispers, @@.boy;"Proud of you."@@ @@.aurora;"Milo."@@ He shuts up, smiling. <<elseif $d24occultc2 is false>>\ You glance toward the door without even thinking about it and get the memory of that horrible slow //creeeeeeeak// that's always way too loud. @@.player;"The door,"@@ you decide. @@.player;"Make it stop creaking."@@ Milo gasps. @@.boy;"YES! That's such a good idea."@@ Aurora's eyes light up. @@.aurora;"Excellent,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"That door is so damn dramatic."@@ @@.boy;"It's evil,"@@ Milo adds. @@.boy;"It creaks even when you open it gently. It's like it wants attention."@@ Aurora nods solemnly. @@.aurora;"It just wants to disturb us."@@ You walk over to it. Up close, it looks completely normal. A standard classroom door. But you know the sound it makes. The sound that turns every entrance into a horror movie cameo. Aurora crosses her arms and leans back against a desk, watching you with a half-smirk. @@.aurora;"Okay. Explain your approach."@@ @@.player;"My approach?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"Yes,"@@ Aurora replies. @@.aurora;"We're not doing 'vibe casting' today. You're talented enough to pull it off based off vibes, but for higher-level spells, it's good to have an approach. We're learning today, so tell me what you're trying to do before you do it. I'll stop you if you give me an approach where it's possible to accidentally give the door sentience."@@ @@.boy;"Don't make the same mistake I did,"@@ Milo whispers. You ignore him and think through it for half a second. Magic in your head is still weird and new, but you've gotten used to the feeling of shaping it. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say slowly. @@.player;"Sound is... vibration. Friction in the hinges. The creak is the hinge moving in a weird, uneven way."@@ Aurora nods. @@.player;"So I want to reduce the friction,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Get magical lubricant on it."@@ @@.aurora;"Good,"@@ Aurora says, smiling. @@.aurora;"That's the correct concept. You're using magic to mess with physics."@@ Your stomach tightens a little, because hearing her say it's correct makes it feel more real. Like, okay. This isn't just you making shit up. You can actually do this with your mana. You sit up, take a breath, and pull the door open. If you're going to do a spell about the door, you might as well test it. The door creaks loudly, hurting your ears. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, more to yourself than to them. @@.player;"That's loud."@@ You focus on the feeling under your fingers. The handle's cold feel and the way the hinges want to move. Then you reach inward, toward that place where magic sits, and you pull. It's like grabbing a thread and drawing it out of your chest. You let the lavender mana gather in your palm, and the air around your hand starts to feel slightly heavier. Your fingers tingle. You taste something sweet. @@.aurora;"Careful there,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Don't brute-force it. You're not ironing reality. You're simply persuading it."@@ @@.player;"Persuading,"@@ you repeat under your breath, because that actually does help. You ease off the pressure you're putting on it and try to guide instead of shove. The magic shifts. It feels less like a fist and more like a hand. You drag your thumb lightly over the hinges, breathing in and out. You're just changing how the friction is. Smooth becomes the path of least resistance. The hinges grease, the spell steadies, and then you release your hands. You hesitate, then slowly pull the door open. For a second, your brain expects the door to betray you and make a sound, but it doesn't. The door opens silently. No creak, just smooth movement. It's almost like it's gliding. You pause with the door half open and stare at it, shocked. @@.boy;"IT'S QUIET!"@@ Milo says, squealing. @@.aurora;"Of course it is,"@@ Aurora mutters, mouth twitching. @@.aurora;"He did it right."@@ You open it the rest of the way, and it's still silent. You close it, and even then, it's silent. A flush of pride hits you so suddenly it's almost embarrassing. @@.player;"Oh my God. I did it."@@ Milo is already sprinting over. @@.boy;"MOVE! I'M TESTING!"@@ Before you can stop him, Milo grabs the handle and starts opening and closing the door rapidly. The door doesn't creak once. Excited, Milo gets even faster, because he has no sense of moderation. @@.boy;"HAHAHA!"@@ Aurora watches, amused, like she's enjoying the performance but would never admit it. @@.aurora;"Milo,"@@ she says, @@.aurora;"If you rip the door off its hinges, just know it's not $name's fault. That's all you."@@ @@.boy;"It's... amazing,"@@ Milo says, looking genuinely emotional. You laugh at the ridiculousness. @@.aurora;"Good work,"@@ Aurora says, an approving expression on her face. @@.aurora;"You struggled less than I expected."@@ @@.player;"Thanks?"@@ you say. Aurora's lips curve. @@.aurora;"That was a compliment. Try not to faint, I know it's rare."@@ @@.player;"Now the door is just a door,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.aurora;"You aimed at the actual problem, you didn't overfeed it, and you didn't accidentally give the door a personality,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"That's a job well done."@@ Milo tears up. @@.boy;"Thank you for fixing the door without giving it life."@@ @@.aurora;"Milo."@@ He shuts up, but he's grinning so hard he looks like he might explode. You step back from the door, feeling weirdly proud. It's such a small, stupid thing. But it's a stupid thing that used to annoy you every time you came in here. And now it won't. <</if>>\ <<button "You've fixed a small problem" "Day 24 - Occult 5">><</button>>

For a minute after your spell lands, the room is calm. Everything worked out. Aurora's posture is loose, Milo is excited, Nimbus is sitting there with that permanent goat expression of mild disapproval, and you're relaxing. Then the mana in the room goes wrong. The air suddenly buzzes and you can feel bubbles popping against your skin. The hairs on your arms stand up, your ears do that tiny pressure-change thing, and goosebumps form. The overhead fluorescent lights click loudly, as if they've just remembered they exist. They flare on at full brightness, then immediately dim, then flare again, then dim again, faster and faster until the entire room is strobing. Milo shields his eyes. @@.boy;"WHY IS IT DOING THAT?"@@ @@.aurora;"Seems like the room's mana is imbalanced,"@@ Aurora says, not giving a fuck. @@.aurora;"It's trying to correct everything."@@ @@.player;"Correct everything?"@@ you repeat. @@.aurora;"Yes. Everything. Every minor inconvenience, every tiny flaw, every–"@@ Your phone lights up on your desk like it just got possessed. It's like a flashbang, blasting white light so bright it paints your entire face in harsh illumination. You flinch so hard you knock a chair over. The battery number reads 500%. It then starts vibrating aggressively, turns itself to full volume, and starts blasting system noises. Milo's phone does it too, except his is worse. His screen goes so bright that you think for a second that it's the sun. @@.boy;"It's glowing!"@@ Milo says, staring in awe. @@.aurora;"It's over-fixing,"@@ Aurora mutters. The desk chair next to you squeaks. The chair legs start shifting, scooting themselves a centimeter at a time until the chair is perfectly aligned with the desk. Then, it just gets pissed off, and slams into the desk, sending it flying across the room. Meanwhile, your pencil decides it's had enough of being part of this. It shoots off your desk like a startled animal and rockets under a random cabinet. Then it immediately reappears in your pocket. Then it shoots away again, returns again, then away, then back. @@.boy;"IT'S YO-YOING!"@@ Aurora's eyes flick around the room. @@.aurora;"Because the room is trying to correct itself, but then corrects the correction, and then corrects that–"@@ She stops talking because Milo's shoelaces just lift. They rise off the floor like they're being pulled by invisible string, then whip forward and slap Milo's shin with a sound like a wet towel. Milo yelps. Then the shoelaces screech. It's that tiny gremlin scream again, high and furious, like the laces are pissed that they got killed off. They untie themselves, retie themselves, then decide that tying is too slow and just launch into the air, flinging around like angry worms. They wrap around a chair leg, yank, and the chair tips with a loud scrape. They whip free and fling themselves around the room, bouncing off the walls while screaming. Milo flails. @@.boy;"NO! NOT AGAIN!"@@ Aurora's voice is calm. @@.aurora;"Milo, do not antagonize them."@@ @@.boy;"I'm not antagonizing them!"@@ Milo yelps as the laces smack him in the shoulder. @@.boy;"THEY'RE ANTAGONIZING ME!"@@ Nimbus chooses that moment to fully understand something is wrong. The goat's ears go straight up as his eyes widen. He lets out a long, panicked BLEAT that sounds like a car alarm before bolting. Nimbus sprints across the room like a furry missile, hooves clacking on the tile, bleating so loudly it echoes. He jumps up onto a chair, knocks it over, lands on a desk, slips, scrambles, and kicks a stack of papers off the teacher's desk. Those papers, in the middle of flying through the air, suddenly try to organize themselves. They shuffle midair like a cursed deck of cards, trying to align their corners while falling. They actually manage to stack themselves for half a second. Then Nimbus skids through them like a bowling ball, sending paper confetti everywhere. Aurora stares at the chaos like she's watching her life flash before her eyes. @@.boy;"NIMBUS! IT'S OKAY!"@@ Milo shouts, trying to calm down his familiar. Nimbus does not believe him. Nimbus bleats again and launches himself into the corner of the room. He slips and accidentally kicks a trash can. The trash can flies, spilling all of its contents. The crumpled paper and random paper shavings get caught in an air current. The air current from the door, which has decided that it's moving too. It swings open before slamming back shut at mach speed. The handle keeps twisting by itself too like it's angry. It makes loud banging noises against the frame. @@.aurora;"Thank God I put a noise nullification field around the club room,"@@ Aurora says. Milo shouts, voice cracking, @@.boy;"THE DOOR IS HAVING A SEIZURE!"@@ The crooked poster on the wall suddenly decides it's done being crooked. The drooping corner yanks itself upward so hard the tape squeals. It's perfectly straight for half a second, but it keeps going. After a few seconds, it's spinning like a cheap ceiling fan, flapping the wall with a loud //WHAP WHAP WHAP//. One of the candles on the windowsill wobbles, then slides into the other candles. They all fall over. Meanwhile, your backpack strap suddenly tightens itself like it's trying to be more comfortable. Except it tightens too much and yanks your brand new backpack sideways, making it fall off the desk. Milo trips on it, wobbling. He's about to gain balance again when the shoelaces whip around his ankle. He falls over. @@.player;"Aurora!"@@ you yell, because your voice has to compete with everything: the clacking hooves, the door slamming, the poster flapping, the fluorescent lights strobing, the shoelaces screeching, and Milo begging for help. Aurora is standing very still in the middle of it all, looking irritated yet reluctantly amused by all this. She finally looks at you, expression razor-sharp, and you can tell she's about to do something big. Something that will make all of this shut up. But then her gaze flicks to you again, and she pauses. She's giving you a chance. <<button "Try to fix it yourself" "Day 24 - Occult 6">>\<<set $d24occultc3 to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Let Aurora fix it" "Day 24 - Occult 6">>\<<set $d24occultc3 to false>>\<</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D24Occult">>\ <<if $d24occultc3 is true>>\ <<set $mstamina to Math.clamp($mstamina + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You stare at Aurora's raised eyebrow, and something in you kicks in. You don't know if it's stubbornness, pride, curiosity, or what, but it makes you want to do something. @@.player;"I'll do it,"@@ you say, voice louder than usual. @@.player;"I can fix it."@@ Milo's eyes widen. @@.boy;"$name?"@@ Aurora's expression shifts, surprised yet amused. @@.aurora;"Alright then,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"Go on."@@ The door slams open again like it's cheering for chaos. The overhead lights strobe. Nimbus bleats and bolts. @@.player;"Okay, okay,"@@ you say to yourself, gritting your teeth. @@.player;"Mana imbalance. Over-correction. Too much energy with no control."@@ @@.aurora;"You need to stabilize the flow, alright?"@@ Aurora says calmly. @@.aurora;"Focus more on the room rather than the individual objects."@@ You nod, acting as though your brain isn't screaming. You close your eyes for half a second, just enough to feel the shape of the mana in the room. It feels like a thousand little hands grabbing at everything. Every tiny intention has become a frantic command echoing through the room. You reach inward, to that hot reservoir of lavender mana you carry, and pull it up like you're drawing water from a deep well. But shit, it surges too fast. Your chest tightens and your fingers tingle hard, static electricity crawling under your skin. The instinct is to shove it outward and to smother the chaos with raw power. But you remember Aurora's earlier advice. You must persuade, not brute-force. So you breathe. You slow the pull. You imagine the room as a messy tangle of strings, and you try to gather them. You lift your hands, palm out, and imagine a net. Something that will catch and hold the mana's wild motion. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you mutter to yourself. @@.player;"Settle. Settle. Settle."@@ The overhead lights flicker hard, and you feel the mana surge like it's resisting yours. @@.player;"Stop... trying... to help,"@@ you say, voice shaking as you push through it. The shoelaces scream and whip around while Nimbus bleats. You grit your teeth, focusing on the room itself. The walls, the air, the boundary of the space. You anchor your mana to the perimeter and tell it to stop. You feel it catch. It's not clean or elegant, but you've managed to grab the chaos mid-sprint. The door freezes halfway through a slam, trembling like it wants to keep moving. The shoelaces jerk once before dropping limp to the floor. Your phone's screen abruptly dims. The pencil stops zooming. The overhead lights turn off. Hell, even Nimbus skids to a stop. The room is still messy, but the chaos is gone. The air feels normal again. You lower your hands slowly, chest heaving a little, because wow, that was difficult. Milo stares at you like you just punched a tornado away. @@.boy;"YOU DID IT!"@@ Aurora's eyes are on you, and she looks... genuinely proud. She hides it behind a small smirk, but it's there. @@.aurora;"Not bad at all,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You struggled, but you corrected."@@ @@.player;"I did kinda panic,"@@ you say, wiping your palms on your pants. Aurora shrugs. @@.aurora;"A little panic is fine. Milo's default state is panic."@@ @@.boy;"Hey!"@@ Milo says, offended. @@.boy;"Also, everything's still... destroyed."@@ You glance around. Papers everywhere, chair askew, trash can spilled. Nimbus is standing on a chair like he's proud of his crimes. @@.player;"I stopped the apocalypse, but I didn't exactly... mop,"@@ you say. Aurora smiles then flicks her wrist. Chairs scoot under desks smoothly. The trash can rights itself and the contents lift up in a neat swirl and drop back inside. Papers flutter up and stack perfectly on the desk. The candles pop back upright. Even Nimbus' little hoof-scuff marks on the floor fade. <<elseif $d24occultc3 is false>>\ You take one look at the room and you make the only sane decision. @@.player;"Aurora, please!"@@ you shout over the chaos. @@.aurora;"Alright, alright,"@@ she says, stepping forward into the center of the room. She doesn't scramble or flinch, seeming to be in no rush to fix this mess. She just lifts one hand, palm up, and makes a slow motion with her hands, gathering threads of mana. You feel it instantly. The room's buzzing mana getting yanked into behaving. The pressure changes and the air stops fizzing against your skin. @@.boy;"She's doing the thing!"@@ Milo says, clinging on to a desk for dear life. @@.aurora;"I've had to do this several times because of the minor apocalypses you've made, Milo,"@@ Aurora deadpans. Nimbus bleats, panicked, and skids toward the door as it slams open again. Aurora flicks two fingers without even looking, and the door gently closes. It stays closed, although the door handle twitches once, like it wants to argue. @@.aurora;"No,"@@ Aurora says, voice full of authority. The handle stops. The overhead lights are still strobing wildly, flickering fast enough to make the room feel like a club. Aurora tilts her head up, mildly annoyed, and snaps her fingers once. The lights click before turning off. The shoelaces screech again and whip past your face, making you duck instinctively. Aurora's hand closes slightly, like she's grabbing something by the throat. The shoelaces freeze midair, let out one last furious squeal, then turn into regular shoelaces again. Aurora even sends them back to Milo's shoes, which had nearly slid off his foot. Nimbus, still running, collides with a chair leg and bleats loudly in betrayal. Aurora turns her head just enough to look at him and says, in the same voice you'd use on a misbehaving toddler, @@.aurora;"Nimbus. Stop."@@ The goat calms down, just standing there. He goes back to staring at nothing. Aurora fixes everything else. Your phone dims to a normal brightness, your pencil stays in your pocket, and the poster relaxes. She holds her hand in the air for one more beat, and you feel the last of the chaotic mana compress and settle. She closes her hand into a loose fist, and the room goes silent. Milo finally lets go of the desk and stands up, panting. @@.boy;"That was awesome!"@@ @@.aurora;"That was stupid,"@@ Aurora corrects. @@.boy;"It was stupid awesome!"@@ Milo says. You exhale, laughing despite yourself, because now that your heart isn't beating against your ribs, the whole thing is just absurd. @@.player;"How did you manage to do that so fast?"@@ @@.aurora;"I'm competent,"@@ Aurora says, shrugging like it's nothing. @@.boy;"That's unfair,"@@ Milo says, pouting. @@.aurora;"It's just experience,"@@ Aurora says, chuckling. @@.aurora;"You gain it over time. I made messes like this too in the past."@@ @@.boy;"You did?"@@ Milo asks, seeming genuinely surprised. Aurora stares at him. @@.aurora;"I'm human too, you know."@@ @@.boy;"Oh yeah,"@@ Milo comments. Aurora glances around the room, at the knocked-over chairs, scattered papers, toppled candles, and random debris, and sighs. She waves her hands, and everything starts cleaning itself up. Chairs scoot under desks smoothly. The trash can rights itself and the contents lift up in a neat swirl and drop back inside. Papers flutter up and stack perfectly on the desks. The candles pop back upright. Even Nimbus' little hoof-scuff marks on the floor fade. <</if>>\ @@.player;"Oh come on,"@@ you say, kind of stunned. @@.player;"That part is just showing off."@@ Aurora smiles smugly. @@.aurora;"It is."@@ With a final flick of her fingers, the room looks normal again. Now that everything's calm again, everything about what just happened becomes funny in hindsight. Like, unbelievably funny. Milo keeps giggling, half out of breath, replaying moments out loud. @@.boy;"Those shoelaces were literally screaming!"@@ Milo says, wiping his eyes. You laugh. @@.player;"Nimbus started a stampede."@@ Nimbus bleats softly, as if to say, "I was scared!" Aurora crosses her arms, but she's smiling too. @@.aurora;"You two are banned from doing magic without supervision, by the way,"@@ she says, giggling. Milo salutes. @@.boy;"Aye aye, captain!"@@ Aurora rolls her eyes. @@.aurora;"Stop calling me that."@@ @@.player;"So, we won't destroy the room next week, right?"@@ you ask. Milo gasps. @@.boy;"Or we can destroy it in a different way."@@ @@.aurora;"We won't be destroying anything,"@@ Aurora says. The three of you head toward the door together, still talking over each other, still replaying the chaos. As you step out, it hits how ridiculous it is that you were basically trapped in a crazy magic classroom. <<button "Time to eat lunch" "Day 24 - 4">><</button>>

You slip into the Yearbook Club room, wondering what's going to be happening today. The room is... messier than it was last week. There are photos tacked up on a corkboard by the front, a stack of sample layouts on a table, and a pile of Pacific Crest yearbooks from previous years. In the back corner, as always, is Jordan in his usual seat. He doesn't just sit back there. He sits back there like he owns that whole damn corner. One leg half-extended, chair tilted just enough to look like he doesn't give a fuck, and arms crossed. He looks like he's judging the room and everyone in it. Simon, the other member of your newly formed group, is already there too, next to Jordan. He gives you a small nod when you walk in, acknowledging that you made it. You head back toward their area, drop your bag by the chair, and take a seat. <<if $jordanRelo > 29>>\ @@.jordan;"$name,"@@ he says warmly. @@.jordan;"Good to see that you made it."@@ Simon blinks, clearly not used to seeing Jordan being friendly. @@.jordan;"Took you long enough,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. @@.player;"Come on, how early am I meant to come?"@@ you say. @@.player;"You always say this."@@ @@.jordan;"You're meant to be here before I'm here,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"That way I'm not bored when I'm here alone."@@ Simon lets out a small laugh. Jordan's eyes flick over you quickly, like he's checking if anything looks off. Then he adds, softer, @@.jordan;"You alright?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'm alright. It's just auditions, you know?"@@ @@.jordan;"Hey, we'll worry about that when the time comes,"@@ he says, leaning back in his seat again. @@.jordan;"Get your butt comfortable first. We're a team now, or whatever."@@ <<else>>\ Jordan keeps staring at his screen like your presence isn't all that important to him. After a few seconds, he shifts his eyes toward you and says @@.jordan;"Hey."@@ @@.player;"Hey,"@@ you reply. @@.boy;"Hey!"@@ Simon says, trying to fit in. Then he realizes how awkward it is and stops. @@.boy;"...So. Uh. What's up, $name?"@@ @@.player;"Not much,"@@ you say, settling your bag under the desk. @@.player;"Just yearbook life, you know?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yearbook life indeed,"@@ Jordan comments. <</if>>\ The room gradually fills in with other yearbook members until the bell rings. Charlotte claps her hands once to get everyone's attention. It's focus time now. She's standing by the whiteboard with a marker and a stack of papers, looking tired. @@.girl;"Alright, everyone,"@@ Charlotte says, smiling. @@.girl;"Today we're doing one of three things, and you're going to work in your groups."@@ She writes as she talks, big and readable. <ul>\ <li>1: Identify what we're missing</li> </ul>\ @@.girl;"Okay, so the groups assigned option 1 will identify an element you think is missing or underrepresented in our photos. So if you feel there isn't enough humor in the photos we've taken so far, you'll take a funny photo. You'll have a camera and free rein around campus. Please don't embarrass me."@@ <ul>\ <li>2: Edit existing photos</li> </ul>\ @@.girl;"The option 2 groups will be editing existing photos. Some of our photos have ''horrible'' color grading. You'll be fixing this. If you don't make the colors pop, the yearbook will eat you."@@ <ul>\ <li>3: Format yearbook pages</li> </ul>\ @@.girl;"The rest of the groups will be formatting yearbook pages. You'll make places for photos to go in and make the pages fit our theme. It's a lot of graphic design, so find good assets. If you can draw, please help out."@@ Charlotte turns back to the room. @@.girl;"Any questions?"@@ @@.boy;"Do we have to?"@@ one boy asks. @@.girl;"Yes,"@@ she responds. @@.girl;"Anyway, let me see here... $name, Jordan, Simon. Your group is on option one. Once you identify what element is missing, grab a camera from the equipment cabinet and get going."@@ You feel Simon straighten a little like he's ready to be useful. Meanwhile, Jordan shifts in his chair before nodding. @@.jordan;"Guess that's what we're doing."@@ And that's where it lands. <<button "What's missing?" "Day 24 - Yearbook 2">><</button>>

Your little three-person corner turns into a quiet strategy huddle. Not a dramatic one, but you can feel the unspoken pressure. The pressure that says you should probably make an actual plan before wandering around campus. @@.boy;"Okay, so, missing elements,"@@ Simon says earnestly. @@.boy;"We need something that's not already covered. Or not covered //enough//."@@ @@.jordan;"We //are// missing a photo of the school being on fire,"@@ Jordan says, deadpan. @@.boy;"That would make for a good photo,"@@ Simon says. @@.player;"Well, it would not make for a good education,"@@ you respond, snorting. @@.player;"Jordan, please don't manifest that."@@ @@.jordan;"I'm not manifesting anything,"@@ Jordan says, mouth twitching. @@.jordan;"I'm just brainstorming."@@ @@.boy;"Let's see here,"@@ Simon says, flipping through some photos. @@.boy;"We have a lot of people smiling. Photos for back-to-school week, the homecoming game, athlete candids, teachers looking funny... hmm..."@@ @@.jordan;"I feel like it's all safe,"@@ Jordan says, leaning forward slightly. @@.player;"Safe,"@@ you repeat, amused. @@.player;"Like the yearbook is trying not to get sued."@@ @@.boy;"Well, that's true,"@@ Simon says immediately, as if that's a sincere concern. @@.boy;"But they're also very safe compositionally."@@ You tilt your head, looking at the photos. He's not wrong at all. Most of the photos are cheerful and bright with the exact same vibe. It's //fine//. That is a good vibe for a yearbook. But it also makes things look very samey. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, tapping the desk lightly. @@.player;"So what you're saying is that we need something that fills a gap."@@ @@.jordan;"Lady Charlotte would like that, yes,"@@ Jordan says. Simon starts listing ideas. @@.boy;"We could do a photo that highlights the campus. Like a building in the background slightly blurred with students in the foreground. Or maybe one that represents academic life? Someone studying in the library could work."@@ @@.jordan;"But we have a million studying photos,"@@ Jordan observes. @@.boy;"That's true,"@@ Simon says. @@.boy;"We have a million studying photos, a million sports photos, and a million lunch photos."@@ You glance at Jordan. @@.player;"What do you think we're missing, then?"@@ Jordan pauses, genuinely thinking. His eyes flick up toward the roof like he's searching the ceiling for inspiration. Eventually, though, he says, @@.jordan;"I don't know."@@ @@.boy;"Oh! OH! I thought of something!"@@ Simon says. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"We could do something creative. Like, okay, hear me out. What if we take a photo of a mysterious student in a hallway, like a silhouette shot. Like the student is holding a book, and there's dramatic fighting, and the caption could be like 'Caught in the Act... of Learning.'"@@ You and Jordan pause for a second, trying to decide if this is an actual suggestion. Then you laugh. Jordan laughs too, like he didn't mean to but it escaped anyway. You're not even trying to be mean, it's just so earnest yet corny that you can't help it. @@.boy;"Not a good idea?"@@ Simon asks, face going red. @@.jordan;"Man, I'll be honest, that was awful,"@@ Jordan says, grinning. @@.jordan;"But in a way I respect."@@ @@.player;"Caught in the act of learning?"@@ you ask, wiping at your eyes. @@.player;"Simon, please."@@ @@.boy;"I thought it would be clever,"@@ Simon says, chuckling. Jordan chuckles along. @@.jordan;"It is clever, but in the way a dad joke is clever."@@ @@.boy;"Alright, alright. So we're not going with that."@@ @@.player;"Maybe we save that for April Fools,"@@ you comment. The three of you stare down at the stack of photos again, more seriously this time. Simon rifles through them, trying to find something good. That's when Jordan's expression changes. It's subtle at first, just his eyes sharpening, but it quickly becomes obvious. He sits up straighter, like he just remembered he's good at this. @@.jordan;"Wait,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"This? All of this? Well, it's missing something."@@ @@.player;"What is it?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"Yeah, what?"@@ Simon echoes. Jordan's eyes light up with this sudden enthusiasm. @@.jordan;"It's missing drama."@@ Simon blinks. @@.boy;"Dramatic photos?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, let me explain,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"We have funny photos, cute photos, silly photos, all that jazz. Everyone's smiling or doing something normal. Look at how wholesome they all are. But shit, where's the intensity? We need a photo that looks like a movie poster."@@ @@.player;"That's actually not a bad idea,"@@ you say. Simon nods slowly, thinking it through. @@.boy;"Yeah. That could add variety. Like a contrast shot."@@ @@.jordan;"That's what I'm talking about,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"We need at least one photo that looks important."@@ @@.player;"Like someone staring out a window in the rain?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"Yes."@@ Simon, still practical, asks, @@.boy;"How do we do that without it looking cringe, though?"@@ @@.jordan;"We do it well, of course."@@ That makes you laugh again. @@.player;"Alright, director Jordan."@@ Jordan doesn't deny it. He's already in motion, standing up with sudden purpose. @@.jordan;"We are doing dramatic."@@ @@.boy;"Okay, dramatic,"@@ Simon says. Jordan walks straight to the equipment cabinet and pulls a camera out before heading toward the door like the plan is already happening. Meanwhile, you and Simon are still sitting there. When Jordan reaches the doorway, he looks back over his shoulder. @@.jordan;"You coming?"@@ he asks, sounding genuinely surprised by the fact that you're not already on your feet. Simon looks at you and blinks. You blink too. Then you both shrug, thinking "I guess we're doing this now." @@.player;"Let's go make a movie poster,"@@ you say, standing up. Simon stands too, still faintly amused. @@.boy;"Caught in the act... of drama."@@ @@.jordan;"Don't,"@@ Jordan warns. The three of you head out together, Jordan leading with the camera like he's suddenly the group leader. You and Simon trail after, already curious what "dramatic photo" means when Jordan is the one calling the shots. <<button "How dramatic..." "Day 24 - Yearbook 3">><</button>>

Jordan moves like he's on a mission assigned to him from a higher power. Except the higher power is Charlotte. In his mind, though, this duty is sacred. He leads you and Simon through the hallway with the camera strap looped around his wrist, posture casual. It's the weirdest combination because he's walking like he doesn't care, but his eyes are scanning everything. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ Jordan says, @@.jordan;"we need drama."@@ Simon nods. @@.boy;"Define drama."@@ @@.jordan;"If you have to define it, you don't have it,"@@ Jordan says simply. @@.boy;"That's not how it works,"@@ Simon argues. Jordan ignores him, pointing ahead. @@.jordan;"We're going to the library."@@ @@.player;"Library?"@@ you ask. Jordan nods like it's obvious. @@.jordan;"It's quiet. It has good lighting. It's where people are in academic despair. We can make it work."@@ @@.boy;"That //is// pretty accurate,"@@ Simon says, making a thoughtful noise. You follow them down the corridor. Once in a while, another group of people walk past you. When they see the camera in Jordan's hand, they immediately try to look cooler, which is honestly kind of funny. Jordan doesn't even acknowledge them. At the library doors, he slows and looks through the glass like he's checking whether the room has the right atmosphere or not. Then he pushes it open. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ Jordan starts, raising the camera slightly. @@.jordan;"We need a lone scholar."@@ @@.boy;"You can't just say that out loud,"@@ Simon whispers. Jordan ignores him and scans the room until his eyes land on a boy sitting by the window, elbows on the table, staring at a textbook. @@.jordan;"There we go,"@@ Jordan murmurs. @@.jordan;"He's perfect."@@ You and Simon hover behind him while he approaches with surprising stealth considering how big his build is. He stops a respectful distance away and leans down just enough to get the student's attention. @@.jordan;"Hey,"@@ Jordan says quietly. The student looks up, startled. @@.jordan;"Yearbook. Can we take a quick photo of you studying?"@@ The poor guy blinks twice. @@.boy;"Uh... me?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, you,"@@ Jordan says flatly. @@.boy;"I mean... I guess?"@@ the student replies. @@.jordan;"Just keep doing what you were doing, then,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Pretend you didn't see me."@@ The student immediately stiffens and looks directly at Jordan like a deer in headlights. @@.jordan;"Okay. Don't do that."@@ You try to bite your lip to keep from laughing. Simon whispers, @@.boy;"This is funny, not dramatic."@@ Jordan shushes him with a look and steps to the side, angling for the window light. He crouches slightly, adjusts the camera settings, then raises it. @@.jordan;"Alright,"@@ Jordan murmurs. @@.jordan;"Think... tortured genius."@@ The student tries to look tortured, but just ends up looking constipated. Jordan takes the shot anyway. //Click.// He checks the screen and immediately makes a face. @@.jordan;"Nope."@@ @@.boy;"Let me see,"@@ Simon says. Jordan tilts the camera so you can both look. The photo is technically fine. The soft window light helps and the composition is solid. But the student is doing this expression that makes it extremely obvious that he's getting photographed. It kills any sense of natural drama. @@.player;"He looks like he's being held hostage for this photo,"@@ you comment. Jordan sighs. @@.jordan;"Exactly. This just isn't the vibe."@@ @@.boy;"Is it bad?"@@ the student whispers. @@.jordan;"Pretty bad, yeah,"@@ Jordan says honestly. @@.boy;"Oh."@@ @@.jordan;"Alright, we're gonna give it another try,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Don't think about the camera. Just look at the page like it's ruining your life."@@ The student looks down and tries to look like it's ruining his life. He overcommits and starts doing this exaggerated frown. //Click.// Jordan checks again. @@.jordan;"Now he looks like a villain."@@ @@.boy;"He looks like an evil mathematician,"@@ Simon whispers. @@.jordan;"Damn, library drama is harder than it looks,"@@ Jordan says, lowering the camera. You glance around and spot a librarian watching you with suspicion. Jordan seems to sense it too. He gives the student a quick nod. @@.jordan;"You're free."@@ The kid looks relieved. The three of you retreat from the library, and once you're back in the hallway, Jordan rolls his shoulders to reset. @@.jordan;"Okay. Next attempt will be in the stairwell."@@ @@.player;"How are stairs dramatic?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"People walk up stairs in dramatic scenes,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Or they run down stairs to escape their past. How is that //not// dramatic."@@ Simon stares at him. @@.boy;"You've thought about this."@@ @@.jordan;"Well, I have to get a good photo,"@@ he says, shrugging. You head to the main starwell while Jordan scans for a target. He spots a student walking alone with his hoodie up. He looks really tired, like he's about to pass out. Jordan's eyes immediately light up. He steps into position, raises the camera, and gets ready to take the photo. But then the student notices at the last second and makes a stupid face. //Click.// Jordan checks the photo, and the student has wide eyes and his mouth is open. He lowers the camera slowly, disappointed. @@.jordan;"Why did it come out like this?"@@ Simon laughs. @@.boy;"That's actually incredible."@@ @@.player;"I mean, it's certainly a dramatic face,"@@ you say, laughing too. @@.player;"Just not in the direction we want."@@ @@.jordan;"I need someone who doesn't react like... //that// the second they see a lens,"@@ Jordan says, sighing. @@.boy;"But most people react like that,"@@ Simon points out. Jordan huffs and tries again with another student. The student sees him early this time and starts posing like they're at a red carpet event. He doesn't even bother taking the photo this time, just looking exhausted. Soon, a pattern starts to emerge. Jordan sets up a serious dramatic shot, but it gets ruined by someone in the funniest way possible. He tries the hallway next, positioning himself low for a cinematic shot. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ Jordan says, scanning. @@.jordan;"We need someone walking alone, alright? Head down and mysterious."@@ @@.boy;"Maybe that guy over there?"@@ Simon says, pointing at a student walking alone. He has his earbuds in and is staring at his phone. Jordan raises the camera and waits for the student to hit the center of the frame before taking the photo. The result is perfect... that is until you notice the student's phone screen is visible, glowing bright. Simon squints. @@.boy;"Is that... HonShin Zero?"@@ You start losing it. @@.player;"Oh my God, he's pulling a gacha."@@ @@.jordan;"I hate high school,"@@ Jordan mutters. @@.boy;"Dramatic lone wanderer wants a waifu,"@@ Simon says, laughing. Jordan rubs his forehead. @@.jordan;"Man, we can't use that."@@ @@.boy;"Why not?"@@ Simon asks. @@.boy;"We could argue that it's art."@@ @@.jordan;"No we cannot,"@@ Jordan says, shooting him a look. You keep walking, the three of you going from place to place, desperately trying to summon a cinematic moment. Jordan remains committed the whole time, focused and strangely stubborn. There are a few more near-misses. One student was perfect before his friend tackled him. Another tripped and turned the dramatic shot into slapstick. Jordan suddenly stops in the middle of the hallway and just stands there, staring into the distance. Simon and you pause beside him, waiting. @@.jordan;"Okay, where would people naturally look dramatic?"@@ Jordan thinks out loud. He glances toward the restroom doors, then toward the courtyard, like he's mentally mapping the whole campus. His eyes narrow in consideration. @@.jordan;"Maybe we need to go somewhere that already feels like a scene."@@ <<button "Go to the gym" "Day 24 - Yearbook 4">>\<<set $d24yearbook to true>>\<</button>> <<button "Go to the janitor's closet" "Day 24 - Yearbook 4">>\<<set $d24yearbook to false>>\<</button>>

<<if $d24yearbook is true>>\ @@.player;"Maybe the gym?"@@ you say, mostly because people are already doing athletic things in the gym. What's more dramatic than someone exercising? @@.jordan;"...Gym,"@@ Jordan repeats, eyes narrowing in focus. @@.jordan;"Yeah. Yeah, that could actually work."@@ Simon hesitates. @@.boy;"Isn't the gym loud?"@@ @@.jordan;"Drama is loud,"@@ Jordan states, starting to walk immediately. So you follow him down the hall toward the gym doors. As you get close to the gym door, it gets cooler. Probably from the air-conditioning being maxed out. Not to mention the fact that it smells like sweat. You start wondering if you even want to go inside. Jordan makes the choice for you, though, as he cracks the gym door open and slides in. Simon and you trail after him, staying quiet for no reason. The gym is... well, gym-ing. Sneakers squeaking, voices bouncing off walls, and people yelling. Off to one side, there's a group practicing throws. Baseballs are popping into gloves with sharp noises that feel louder than they should. Jordan's eyes light up the second he sees movement. He lifts the camera, adjusts a setting, and immediately starts scanning for a subject. @@.jordan;"We need a shot that looks like... destiny,"@@ Jordan mutters. @@.boy;"Destiny?"@@ Simon whispers. Jordan shushes him with a look and crouches to get a lower angle. He waits for the right moment, when the ball is midair, and takes a couple quick shots. @@.jordan;"Not dramatic enough,"@@ he says to himself. The photos actually look fine. More than fine, even. But they don't have that dramatic intensity that Jordan's chasing. @@.jordan;"We need like... one isolated person,"@@ Jordan says. That's when you hear it. @@.luke;"$name?!"@@ You flinch. When you turn, there he is. Luke. He's over by the baseball group, and he starts waving hard. @@.luke;"HI!"@@ Luke yells again, because he wasn't loud enough already. People glance over. A couple of the baseball kids look confused. Jordan freezes, like his cinematic vision just got shattered. Luke barrels toward you with enthusiasm. He slows at the last second so he doesn't actually tackle you, but it's close. @@.luke;"Oh my God,"@@ Luke says, breathless. @@.luke;"You're here! And Jordan is too! Woah!"@@ @@.jordan;"Hey,"@@ Jordan says. @@.luke;"This is so cool!"@@ Luke beams. @@.luke;"You guys are like a duo! Like a superhero duo."@@ @@.boy;"I'm here too,"@@ Simon says quietly. @@.luke;"Yes! Lanky boy! Trio. You guys are like three superheroes!"@@ Jordan rubs his forehead like he's trying to hold onto his sanity. @@.jordan;"We're taking yearbook photos. We're trying to get a dramatic shot."@@ @@.luke;"Yearbook is so cool,"@@ Luke says, gasping. @@.luke;"Wait, if you're taking pictures, take one of me! I can do something dramatic."@@ @@.jordan;"No."@@ Luke looks devastated for half a second before bouncing back. @@.luke;"It's fine, I get it. I'll just be dramatic near you, and you can get the shot in whenever."@@ Before anyone can stop him, Luke pivots and jogs back toward the baseball group. Jordan lifts the camera instinctively. Hell, maybe //Luke// can get you the dramatic shot you need. Luke grabs a baseball from a bucket, winds up, and throws the ball to his partner. The issue is that, in his excitement, he throws the ball way too fast. It does not go into the glove. Not even close. It goes //past// the glove and nails Luke's partner straight in the stomach. There's a moment where the kid just stands there, eyes wide, glove still up like his body hasn't processed the pain yet. Then he folds in half like a fucking lawn chair. @@.boy;"OH SHIT!"@@ someone yells. Luke's face drops instantly. @@.luke;"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Are you okay??? I didn't mean to!"@@ The kid wheezes. A couple of students rush over, someone starts yelling for the nurse, the entire gym turns chaotic. Jordan lowers the camera slowly, looking dead inside. @@.boy;"That was pretty dramatic,"@@ Simon whispers, kind of amazed. @@.jordan;"Not the kind we needed,"@@ Jordan says, exhaling. @@.jordan;"We're leaving."@@ @@.luke;"Leaving?"@@ Luke asks, having spawned next to the three of you. Jordan is already walking toward the exit, camera tucked in close like he's protecting it from the chaotic aura Luke radiates. Simon follows immediately, because he's wise. You end up backing away too, giving Luke a helpless look. @@.player;"I'll see you later, man,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Please don't kill anyone else."@@ Luke looks stricken. @@.luke;"I won't! I promise! I'm sorry! Tell Jordan I'm sorry!"@@ You slip out into the hallway behind Jordan and Simon, the gym door swinging shut and cutting off the noise. <<elseif $d24yearbook is false>>\ You hesitate before saying something that popped into your head. It's dumb, sure, but you believe it can be dramatic. @@.player;"What about the janitor closet?"@@ Jordan slowly turns his head toward you. Simon also turns, like he's trying to figure out if you're joking or not. @@.jordan;"Why the janitor closet?"@@ Jordan asks, squinting. @@.player;"Think about it,"@@ you begin, trying to justify it. @@.player;"It's mysterious, forbidden, and scary. None of us have ever actually been in there, who knows what happens? It's a room responsible for keeping the entire school clean."@@ @@.boy;"$name, it's full of cleaning supplies,"@@ Simon says, mouth twitching. @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Now that is dramatic."@@ Jordan looks like he wants to argue. Then he sees the spark. Like part of him realizes that this ridiculous idea could work. @@.jordan;"...Fine,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"If it's dramatic, it's dramatic."@@ So you head down the hall to a door that is unmarked and ominous. The vibe almost seems to get darker the closer you get. But eventually, you do find it. A plain wooden door with a little sign on it that looks like it was printed decades ago. There are some deep scratches too. What the hell left those? Jordan grips the camera a little tighter and reaches for the handle. @@.boy;"Are we allowed to do this?"@@ Simon whispers. Jordan whispers back, @@.jordan;"Yearbook is allowed to do anything."@@ @@.player;"That's not true,"@@ you say. Jordan ignores both of you and cracks the door open. The first thing that hits you is the smell. It's like bleach and mop water and something sour all mixed together. You instinctively stumble back. @@.player;"Oh my God."@@ Simon recoils too. @@.boy;"Why does it smell like despair?"@@ Jordan, to his credit, doesn't move an inch. He just narrows his eyes like the smell is trying to challenge him. @@.jordan;"This is definitely dramatic,"@@ Jordan says, stepping further in. You and Simon reluctantly follow. Inside, the closet is cramped. Shelves are stacked with supplies. Broken brooms lie on the floor, looking sad. A bucket on the floor is filled with liquid. You don't know what that liquid is, and you don't particularly want to know. Jordan lifts the camera. @@.jordan;"Okay, now we need someone in here to photograph."@@ @@.boy;"Who would be in here?"@@ Simon asks. @@.jordan;"That's why we have to lure someone,"@@ Jordan says, pointing at the open doorway. @@.player;"Dude, we are not going to be luring people into the janitor closet,"@@ you say, staring at him. Jordan frowns as if you're the one being unreasonable. @@.jordan;"Fine. Then we just wait."@@ @@.boy;"Wait for what?"@@ Simon asks, looking alarmed. Jordan doesn't answer because the answer is obvious. You all stand there for a few minutes in silence, breathing carefully. Jordan adjusts the camera settings to make sure it takes a good photo in the dim lighting. Then you hear heavy footsteps. And they are approaching fast. Jordan freezes. Simon's eyes widen. Your stomach drops a little because you suddenly realize the janitor closet is not a mystical location. It actually belongs to someone, that someone being the janitor. The door swings wide open and an old man steps in. He takes one look at the three of you before his face turns into pure fury. @@.boy;"WHAT IS YA DOIN IN HERE?!"@@ he says. Jordan reacts faster than you've ever seen him react in your life. He lowers the camera and takes a step back. Simon panics. @@.boy;"We're in the Yearbook Club!"@@ The janitor grabs a mop and waves it like it's a sword. @@.boy;"YEARBOOK? THIS AIN'T THE PLACE FOR A PHOTOSHOOT! OUT! OUT OUT OUT!"@@ He advances, mop swishing aggressively. The sound is horrifying. All three of you end up scrambling out of the closet at once, nearly tripping over each other in the doorway. Jordan is trying to keep the camera from swinging into anything. Simon makes a strangled noise, terrified. Behind you, the janitor's voice echoes down the hall. @@.boy;"I CATCH YA IN THERE AGAIN AND 'AM CALLIN' THE PRINCIPAL! DO YOU HEAR MEH?!"@@ Jordan runs like he's playing football, which is unfair because he's literally the star quarterback. Simon is sprinting too, suddenly gaining some athleticism. You finally make it around a corner and slow down, gasping. Simon bends over with his hands on his knees. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ Jordan says, stopping and breathing deep. You wheeze. @@.player;"Okay what?"@@ Jordan stares into the distance, still holding the camera. @@.jordan;"The janitor closet is off the list."@@ Simon coughs. @@.boy;"That is the scariest man I've ever seen."@@ @@.player;"It smelled evil in there,"@@ you mutter. Jordan looks down at the camera, expression blank. @@.jordan;"We're never speaking of this again."@@ @@.boy;"Did we at least get a dramatic shot?"@@ Jordan holds up the camera. On the screen, the only thing there is a blurry mop. @@.jordan;"No,"@@ he says calmly. And somehow that makes you laugh harder than you should. After all that, you didn't even get the one thing you came for. <</if>>\ <<button "Why is getting a photo so hard?" "Day 24 - Yearbook 5">><</button>>

The three of you end up doing what every lost group of students eventually does when they run out of indoor ideas. You decide to just wander outside. The school field stretches out in front of you, wide open. Jordan slows to a stop near the edge of the grass and just stands there for a second, camera hanging from his wrist, staring out at the field in an attempt to channel drama. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ he says, very seriously. Simon squints. @@.boy;"Okay what?"@@ Jordan turns, and he looks like he's just had a revelation. @@.jordan;"If we can't find something dramatic... we ''make'' something dramatic."@@ @@.player;"So we're going to stage it?"@@ you ask. Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"Yes we will."@@ @@.boy;"These types of yearbook photos aren't usually staged like this, though,"@@ Simon comments. @@.jordan;"Look, we //tried// not to stage it and the photos all came out bad,"@@ Jordan argues. @@.jordan;"We have to do this."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"So what are we gonna do? Make drama in the grass?"@@ @@.jordan;"Basically,"@@ Jordan says. Simon looks between you and Jordan and realizes he's outnumbered. Jordan's confident and you're just willing to do it to see where it goes. @@.boy;"Alright,"@@ he says reluctantly. @@.boy;"What do you want us to do?"@@ Jordan lifts the camera again and makes his way to a section of the field. He raises the camera this time before waving his hand at you and Simon. @@.jordan;"Positions!"@@ Jordan says. You and Simon step onto the grass. @@.jordan;"Simon, you stare into the horizon,"@@ Jordan says, pointing. @@.jordan;"Like you're haunted. $name, you're the emotional anchor. Look like you're about to say something important."@@ You and Simon do your best. Simon stares forward with a blank, tired expression while you look slightly off to the side. Jordan takes the photo. //Click.// He checks the screen, but his face twists with disappointment. @@.jordan;"It just looks like you're both waiting for the bus."@@ @@.boy;"That's dramatic,"@@ Simon counters. Jordan shoots him a look. @@.jordan;"Not in the way I want it to be. Okay, new direction. $name, you need yearning."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Yearning?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yes,"@@ Jordan says, fully committed now. @@.jordan;"Yearning. Like you want something you can't have. Meanwhile, Simon, turn your body slightly away from $name. Like you're leaving. Then, $name, you reach out a little. Like you're almost grabbing him but you won't. You're restrained by fate."@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"Jordan, what kind of photo are you taking? This is like theater."@@ @@.jordan;"What's another word for theater? Drama. Exactly."@@ You decide to oblige, and Jordan adjusts his angle before snapping another photo. //Click.// @@.jordan;"Now it just looks like Simon is walking away because you said something weird,"@@ Jordan says, shoulders dropping. @@.jordan;"Okay, forget yearning. Do a heroic stance, standing back to back."@@ @@.player;"Do I have to?"@@ you ask. Jordan lifts the camera. @@.jordan;"Just do it."@@ You angle your body and push your back to Simon's. For a second, it actually feels like it might work. The pose is stupid, sure, but the vibe almost clicks. Jordan raises the camera, squints, and takes the photo. But... at the exact same moment the shutter sound goes off, you hear a tiny //plop//. That's because something wet just hit the front of the camera. Jordan freezes. Simon freezes. You freeze. There's a moment where none of you move because your brains are trying to process what the fuck just happened. Jordan slowly lowers the camera and looks at the lens, just to see a fresh, undeniable smear of bird poop right across it. @@.player;"No way,"@@ you murmur. @@.boy;"What are the odds?"@@ Simon says, voice full of disbelief. Jordan looks really offended, like the universe just spat in his face. He turns the camera around and looks at the screen. The photo is there. You can see the shapes of you and Simon behind the smear... but a significant portion of the frame is ruined. @@.jordan;"Did a bird seriously just shit on the camera?"@@ Jordan asks, stunned. You start laughing first. You can't really hold it back. It bursts out of you like you've been holding it in since 1977. Simon laughs too, right after you. It's more of a wheeze, though, because he's so shocked. Jordan looks offended for a few more beats before his face cracks as well. He lets out a short laugh first, like he's fighting it, but it quickly grows. Suddenly, Jordan is laughing for real, shoulders shaking and head tipping back. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ Jordan manages, still laughing, @@.jordan;"okay, that's pretty funny."@@ @@.player;"That's our dramatic photo!"@@ you gasp between laughs. @@.player;"Nature legit said //no//."@@ Simon wipes at his eyes. @@.boy;"We got censored by a bird."@@ @@.jordan;"Alright, I was being pretty dumb,"@@ Jordan says, still chuckling. @@.jordan;"Drama can't be staged sometimes. I kept trying to get it when it's meant to just //happen//."@@ @@.boy;"Well, we did get something,"@@ Simon says, nodding solemnly. @@.jordan;"Not helping,"@@ Jordan mutters. @@.jordan;"Let's head back before Charlotte thinks we died."@@ You and Simon follow. Even though you didn't get the dramatic shot Jordan wanted, the bird sure made sure you got a memorable one. <<button "Back to Charlotte" "Day 24 - Yearbook 6">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D24Yearbook">>\ The three of you walk back toward the yearbook room. The laughter has faded, and now you're bracing for consequences. Jordan has the camera in his arms again like it's an injured animal he's trying to escort home safely. Simon keeps glancing at it in fear. You keep replaying the //plop// in your head, which is honestly the worst part. Not because it makes you feel guilty, but because the more you think about it, the funnier it gets. @@.boy;"Do you think Charlotte is going to be mad?"@@ Simon asks, slowing just a little. @@.player;"I mean, how could she //not// be mad?"@@ you say. Jordan doesn't look panicked, but you can tell he's thinking about it too. @@.jordan;"It's fine,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"We didn't break it."@@ Simon gives him a look. @@.boy;"Yeah, we didn't break it, but you know what we did."@@ Jordan's mouth twitches. @@.jordan;"We just had a bit of an incident."@@ @@.player;"That's one way to describe getting sniped by a bird,"@@ you murmur. @@.jordan;"Shut up,"@@ Jordan says, even though he's full-on smiling now. You reach the door. Jordan takes a deep breath, hand resting on the handle, before he pushes it open and leads you in. Charlotte is still at the front, sorting papers and checking something on her laptop. A couple groups are working on layouts. Someone is arguing about a caption. The Yearbook Club is steady and controlled. That is, until you three walk in looking like you just returned from war. Jordan stops for half a second, then takes a breath like he's making a decision. He walks straight up to Charlotte, reaches her, and clears his throat. @@.girl;"Hey!"@@ Charlotte says, looking up. @@.girl;"You're back. How'd it go?"@@ @@.jordan;"So, uh, I need to tell you something before you see the photos."@@ Charlotte's eyes narrow. @@.girl;"That sentence is always bad."@@ @@.jordan;"Well, it's my fault, really. I was handling the camera when it got... hit."@@ Charlotte's whole posture shifts into annoyance in a heartbeat. @@.girl;"Hit how?"@@ Jordan exhales. @@.jordan;"A bird."@@ Charlotte takes a second to process things before repeating, slowly, @@.girl;"A... bird."@@ You, unable to resist, add quietly, @@.player;"It was extremely accurate."@@ Simon elbows you. @@.girl;"Jordan,"@@ Charlotte says, expression flat. Jordan lifts a hand quickly. @@.jordan;"It's cleaned! The camera is fine. The lens is fine. It was just an accident."@@ @@.girl;"You're telling me right now that you brought school equipment outside and it got pooped on?"@@ @@.jordan;"Yes."@@ Charlotte closes her eyes for a second, like she's holding back a scream. Then she opens them and says, @@.girl;"Okay. At least show me the photos you got."@@ Jordan connects the camera to the computer at the front, moving carefully. You and Simon hover nearby, doing your best to look innocent. The photos start importing, and Charlotte watches the progress bar like a hawk. It is deciding your fate, after all. When the thumbnails appear, she scrolls through them quickly. Her expression stays annoyed at first, clearly still thinking about the bird situation, when something shifts. She starts clicking on the photos to enlarge them, her annoyance dissolving into interest. @@.girl;"These photos... they're all perfect,"@@ Charlotte says, looking up at Jordan. @@.jordan;"What?"@@ Jordan asks, confused. Charlotte gestures at the screen. @@.girl;"Dude, these are great. The lighting is fine, the framing is good, and they feel natural."@@ @@.jordan;"But they're not dramatic,"@@ Jordan says, looking genuinely thrown off. @@.girl;"So?"@@ Charlotte asks, tilting her head. Jordan frowns. @@.jordan;"We were trying to get something dramatic 'cause we thought that was missing."@@ @@.girl;"Well, you didn't get that, but you got something better for a yearbook,"@@ Charlotte says. @@.girl;"A yearbook is mostly everyday life. It's stupid moments in the hallways, random stuff that happens, people doing normal things, stuff like that. That's what ages well. That's what people look back on fondly."@@ @@.boy;"So you like them?"@@ Simon asks cautiously. Charlotte nods. @@.girl;"Yes. I love them."@@ @@.player;"Oh, thank God,"@@ you say. Charlotte finally looks back at Jordan and adds, with a little exasperated fondness, @@.girl;"I'm still annoyed about the camera, alright? Don't take it outside without checking with me first next time."@@ @@.jordan;"I promise,"@@ Jordan says, nodding. @@.girl;"Good!"@@ Charlotte says, smiling. @@.girl;"Now get packing. It's almost time for lunch."@@ By the time the final bell rings, Charlotte is happily slotting photos into folders, and you're all chatting in the back corner. As time comes for the final bell to ring, Jordan awkwardly clears his throat. @@.jordan;"Seriously, good job you guys."@@ Jordan says quietly. He quickly leaves, clearly embarrassed. You chuckle, because you know that from Jordan, that means the world. <<button "Time to eat lunch" "Day 24 - 4">><</button>>

<<set $day to 24>> Your alarm goes off, and you miraculously manage to actually open your eyes on the first try. You've gotta admit that that's a truly impressive feat. For a second you just lie there, staring at the ceiling, letting the sound drill into your skull. You wait for the familiar fog of drowsiness to roll back over you, but it doesn't. Your brain is fully awake and ready to go in a way that feels almost illegal after yesterday's tragedy. You blink a few times, suspicious, before you realize something. Shit, it's Wednesday. Audition day for theater. It's scary, but at least you managed to wake up on time like a functional human being. If you can wake up for school, you can do anything, right? It //is// a little silly to be proud of waking up, but you're still proud anyway. Take the wins when they come, $name. Then you shift under the weight and feel the weight. Not the weight of responsibility of anything, no. Literal weight. Of course. She's still sprawled on your bed like she pays rent. <<if $familiar is 0>>\ Sable is curled near your pillow like she owns the top half of the bed, her body tucked into a perfect fluffy crescent. One ear twitches, but she doesn't open her eyes. She just purrs steadily, like she decided you having to get up and go to school isn't her problem. You stare at her for a little, just observing the audacity. But she's so warm and soft that your brain immediately tries to betray you. It tells you that you could just stay here and be cozy forever. Slip auditions and just bedrot with a magical lynx. But sadly, you have to get up. @@.player;"Sable,"@@ you whisper carefully, because she looks like a sleeping cat and every sleeping cat is scary. @@.player;"Sable. hey."@@ Her purr deepens, like she's saying "mmm, no." You gently touch her shoulder. It's like touching a living pillow with how soft and warm she is. She shifts her weight and presses her head firmly into the pillow, basically telling you to go away. @@.player;"You're going to have to turn back into mana,"@@ you say softly. Sable's eyes open halfway, unimpressed. She stares at you, blinks once, then closes them again like she's ending the conversation. @@.player;"Did you just hang up on me?"@@ She flicks an ear, which somehow reads as a yes. @@.player;"Sable,"@@ you whisper, trying not to laugh because that would make you look insane. @@.player;"I can't take you to school as a lynx. There are already rumors and conspiracy theories about me."@@ Sable rolls her head toward you, opening one eye again. It's mildly annoyed, like she's about to say, "that sounds like a you problem." You try to reason with her. @@.player;"Okay, listen. I'll call you back out the second I'm home alone. You can nap literally the whole time on my bed."@@ Sable's gaze softens a little, which is probably the closest you're getting to a reaction. She stretches one paw forward luxuriously, the way cats do. Then she yawns. @@.player;"Oh my God, Sable,"@@ you say, petting her. @@.player;"You are ''so'' brave."@@ Sable gives you a dirty look. She leans in and rubs her forehead against your cheek once, to say goodbye. Then her shape begins to blur, fur dissolving. The air feels suddenly cool, and her purr fades. Soon, she's nothing more than a quiet thread of lavender mana. The pillow feels colder immediately. <<elseif $familiar is 1>>\ Seraphine is sprawled across your blanket like a decorative scarf. She's coiled loosely near your thigh, tail draped casually. She doesn't even move when you do, not one muscle. You squint at her. @@.player;"Are you playing dead?"@@ Seraphine doesn't move. You watch her for a second, because you're scared she'll jumpscare you when you least expect it. But no, she's fully asleep. An actual nap after being a menace yesterday. You carefully move your leg an inch to test the waters. Seraphine slides with the blanket like something that has no intention of participating in living today. Her tongue flicks once before she settles again. @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"You're so lazy."@@ Seraphine stares at you for a second before looking away. If she had eyelids, you're pretty sure she'd be closing her eyes right now just to annoy you. @@.player;"Seraphine,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"Hey! I need you to turn back into mana."@@ No response. You lean closer. @@.player;"Seraphine."@@ Her tail twitches. That's all she gives you. You narrow your eyes. @@.player;"Don't pretend you can't hear me."@@ Her rattle gives the tiniest little sound, almost like she's giggling. @@.player;"If you're awake, why are you ignoring me?"@@ you ask, offended. Seraphine just rests her head smugly, pretending like she's busy. You know for a fact that snake has nothing to do. @@.player;"Look, I love that you're embracing your laziness, but I've gotta get to school,"@@ you say, pinching the bridge of your nose. Seraphine remains a snake. You glance at the clock, then back at her, then at the clock again. You do not have the time to negotiate with a magical rattlesnake. @@.player;"Please,"@@ you beg, trying the nice way anyway. @@.player;"I'll call you back out after school and you can sleep in peace. You can be a little mana cloud if you want. You can vibe and do literally nothing."@@ Seraphine looks kind of interested. You add, quietly, @@.player;"Also, if you stay like this... I'm going to have to cut off your mana."@@ That does it. Seraphine lifts her head with sudden alertness, eyes wide like you just threatened her. Which, to be fair, you just did. She makes an offended sound, and then with dramatic reluctance, she begins to dissolve. Her scales shimmer before her body fades into a tight spiral of lavender mana. You stare at the empty blanket, victorious and exhausted. @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you whisper. <<elseif $familiar is 2>>\ Solana is a whole furnace behind your legs, curled up like she's about to fuse with the mattress. Her tail is tucked in, her ears are relaxed, and the only sign she's even alive is the slow rise and fall of her breathing. You move your foot an inch and she lets out a tiny grumble, clearly annoyed. You twist a little, and the second your blanket shifts, Solana's eyes crack open a little. She stares at you like you're personally responsible for every bad thing that has ever happened to her (in her 4 days of life), then promptly closes them again. @@.player;"Well, good morning to you too,"@@ you whisper. She does not respond. She does not care. You poke her shoulder lightly. Why lightly? Because you're not a monster, of course. You're trying to be respectful toward your little coyote. @@.player;"Solana. Hey. We gotta-"@@ A sleepy whine crawls out of her throat like she's offended you even spoke to her. Her paw pushes against your leg, not hard, just enough to communicate she's not interested in moving. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"I hear you. I hear you so clearly, girl. But I need you to... you know. I need you to go back into mana for the day."@@ Solana opens one eye again. This time she actually looks at you, and you can practically see her asking why she has to do that when she's so comfy. @@.player;"Because if you come with me to school like this, I will get expelled and the Mage Society would have a lot to clean up."@@ Her ears flicks. That's it. That's the only acknowledgement you get. @@.player;"C'mon,"@@ you beg, trying the gentle approach first. @@.player;"Just for a few hours, and I'll call you back out once I'm alone again. You can sleep in my bed if you want."@@ Solana's tail swishes lazily, and she somehow curls even tighter like she's trying to become a donut. @@.player;"Solana, please,"@@ you whisper, turning more serious. @@.player;"I'm already trying not to throw up today. Help me out."@@ That lands, apparently. her eyes open fully for a second. You don't know if she's moved by your anxiety or just tired of hearing you talk, but she lets out a dramatic sigh. Then she pushes herself up on her elbows, shakes her head, and stares at you. @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you say, pressing your palms together. @@.player;"Thank you so much."@@ Solana leans forward and bumps her nose against your shin. It's like she's saying, "fine, I'll go away, but I'm mad about it." Then her forms start to soften at the edges, fur dissolving into mist. Eventually, she's nothing but lavender mana. For a moment, the air smells faintly like grass and sun, and then she's gone. <</if>>\ With your familiar finally tucked away, the room feels quieter. You swing your legs off the bed and sit there for a second, letting your brain line up the day in front of you. You have school, classes, and auditions at the end. The thought makes your stomach tighten again, but there's a stubborn little ember of excitement too. You got up on the first alarm. That has to count for something. You stand, stretching until your back pops, and shuffle to your bathroom. You brush your teeth, spit, rinse, splash water on your face, then stand there gripping the sink while your nerves go crazy. Your heart isn't racing, exactly, but you're fairly certain your resting heart rate is higher than it should be. You pad back to your room and open your closet. You hover there, scanning hangers, trying to decide what kind of you is going to walk out the door today. <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 24 - 2">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<button "Wear canon outfit" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 29>><<set $pants to 22>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\<<trackChoice "D24_outfit_selection" "Wear canon outfit" "customization">><</button>> <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $outfit to 69>><<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Just wear something" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

Mr. Bennet looks down at his list. @@.boy;"When you hear your name, sit together with your partner and start quietly running the scene,"@@ he says brightly. @@.boy;"I'll give you a few minutes to settle in before we begin."@@ @@.boy;"Alex with Devon,"@@ Mr. Bennet begins. @@.boy;"Mariana with Felix. Jin with Kelsey. Renee with Aaron."@@ It keeps going. Pairs form around the room, faces different depending on how much they like their partner. You listen while watching Jordan and Noelle. Jordan's knee bounces whenever a name that starts with a "J" is called. Noelle sits with her hands in her lap, fingers twiddling. @@.boy;"Noelle with Parker,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. Noelle's head lifts fast. @@.noelle;"Who?"@@ A boy a few rows over looks up, equally startled. The two of them didn't know the other existed until now. He gives a small wave. Meanwhile, Noelle freezes up. You can see her brain scrambling, realizing she's going to have to do this with a new person. Mr. Bennet doesn't seem to notice because he's already moving on to the next pair. Jordan turns toward her and says, @@.jordan;"Hey,"@@ in a low voice. Noelle looks down at him, eyes wide. @@.noelle;"I don't know him."@@ @@.jordan;"You don't need to know him, Noelle,"@@ Jordan says, trying to steady her. @@.jordan;"You know the scene, and that's what matters."@@ @@.noelle;"What if he's weird?"@@ Noelle asks. @@.jordan;"We're in theater. Everyone's weird."@@ That gets the tiniest giggle out of her, but she still looks like she wants to run away. @@.player;"Noelle, you'll do good, alright?"@@ you say. @@.player;"It'll go perfectly well. If anything, he'll be the one that messes up."@@ Noelle snorts. @@.noelle;"You can't say that!"@@ Jordan lifts his chin toward Parker. @@.jordan;"Go. You'll be fine."@@ Noelle takes a breath, nods again, and walks over to her partner. You can see her introducing herself. She's still nervous, of course, but she doesn't bolt. Parker seems nervous too, which weirdly helps. Mr. Bennet keeps calling names. The room gradually turns into a bunch of little rehearsal buddies. Pairs murmur lines, flip pages, and make decisions about how to deliver lines. You wait, trying not to start doing "what if" scenarios in your head. Luke and Samantha's voices are still in the back of your head. But then, after a minute that feels like an eternity, Mr. Bennet's voice hits your name. @@.boy;"Jordan with $name."@@ For a second, you're not sure you heard it correctly. Jordan turns his head toward you at the exact same time you turn toward him, both of you confused. @@.jordan;"Us?"@@ Jordan asks, blinking. You whisper, @@.player;"Us."@@ @@.jordan;"Okay then,"@@ Jordan says, leaning back. @@.jordan;"That can work."@@ Mr. Bennet reads out a few more names before clapping his hands lightly. @@.boy;"Alright. Everyone has their partners now. You have ten minutes to practice with each other before we start auditions officially. Timer starts... now!"@@ Ten minutes isn't long, but it's at least //something//. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ Jordan says, getting up. @@.jordan;"Who's reading who?"@@ @@.player;"Does it matter?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"Of course it does, we don't want it to suck,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"I mean. Not that it //will// suck. It's just-"@@ @@.player;"You're nervous,"@@ you say. Jordan glares. @@.jordan;"I'm not."@@ @@.player;"Just look at your leg."@@ @@.jordan;"Stop looking at my leg."@@ @@.player;"Fine,"@@ you say, trying to make it lighter. @@.player;"Do you want to be Romeo or Juliet?"@@ @@.jordan;"Seriously?"@@ Jordan asks, chuckling. @@.player;"Okay, I'll be Juliet,"@@ you say, getting the hint. Jordan nods and you guys get to running through it. You're not performing yet, that's for later, but you're feeling the rhythm. @@.player;"Okay. We need a plan for the bird argument,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"Are we going to play it playful or desperate?"@@ Jordan asks. @@.player;"That's actually a good question,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"I'd prefer playful,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"To me, this is their honeymoon period. When everything is perfect. Juliet wants to see Romeo for longer, of course, but I think that they believe that there will be plenty of moments just like this left in the future."@@ @@.player;"Then we'll do it playful,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.player;"You know, if you're this good emotionally, why are you always so guarded?"@@ Jordan's mouth twitches. @@.jordan;"Shut up."@@ Across the room, Noelle is doing her best to stay confident and speak with Parker. Her shoulders are still tense, but she's talking. She's actually doing it. Jordan catches your glance and looks over too, and you can tell he's checking if she's alright. @@.player;"She's handling it,"@@ you murmur. Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"I knew she could do it."@@ You get back to the script, running a few more lines to make the flow better. The ten minutes are slipping far too quickly and the room is slowly getting quieter as everyone realizes it's almost time. Mr. Bennet moves toward the front, getting ready to start calling people to audition. But at that exact moment, the door opens again. It's not a normal interruption, no. It's Principal Zhang stepping into the room. He doesn't announce himself loudly or make a big show. He just enters with administrative authority. People tense even further as they see him. They're tensing because it's yet another pair of eyes on them. You're tensing up for a ''very'' different reason. The principal stands near the doorway for a moment, letting the room register him. His expression is polite and smooth, but also plastic. His eyes sweep the room slowly, taking everything in. Mr. Bennet looks genuinely surprised. @@.boy;"Oh! Principal Zhang! What a treat."@@ @@.zhang;"Mr. Bennet,"@@ the Principal responds, smiling. @@.zhang;"I heard auditions were today. I figured I'd stop by to support the arts and show my appreciation for our school community."@@ He steps further in. His gaze continues moving until it lands on you. He //smiles//. Not a cartoon villain smile or anything overtly obvious. Just a small, unsettling curve that feels far too intentional. Your stomach fucking drops. Jordan's head turns to you, and then the principal, and then back to you. He's clearly aware. @@.boy;"Wonderful!"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"Yes, Mr. Zhang, you're absolutely welcome to watch. Everyone take a deep breath, alright? Paired readings are about to begin."@@ And the principal stays in the back, quietly observing, while Mr. Bennet prepares to start. <<button "Principal Zhang has appeared" "Day 24 - 11">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D24JordanReassurance">>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ Now that you've seen Principal Zhang, your brain stops being in theater class. The switch has been flipped. You went from thinking about birds and acting to danger and consequences. Everything Mr. Bennet says sounds far away. You try to look at your script. You try to stay on the lines. You even whisper a few words under your breath, but they don't stick. All you can feel is the principal's presence behind you. He's not even loud or openly angry. He's just pretending to be polite and interested when his real interest is in you. You think about stepping on stage and saying Juliet's lines. You can already imagine the scene. Principal Zhang will smile as you wrap up, later turning into an excuse. That's all he needs to ruin your life. You're too visible, too easy to target. Too... different. Your stomach tightens hard. //Maybe I shouldn't audition.// The thought echoes in your mind. It isn't even panic anymore, it's strategy. Your brain is coming up with the safest plan possible, and that's to not participate. Principal Zhang doesn't have an excuse if you don't give him an excuse, after all. You swallow and glance toward the front where Mr. Bennet is running the first pairs. One duo finishes and the room claps politely. Mr. Bennet gives quick notes while Principal Zhang stands near the back. He's looking at the stage, but it's clear he's not actually interested. They're not who he's here for. You can barely hear the notes anyway. Your attention keeps sliding to the principal whenever he shifts. Every time you feel like he might look your way, you get nervous all over again. Jordan nudges you with his elbow. Not hard, just a quick tap to remind you to stay with him. You look at him, and notice his eyes are steady on you. Not the principal, not the stage, on you. @@.player;"What?"@@ you whisper. @@.jordan;"$name, you're fading fast,"@@ Jordan replies. @@.player;"I'm fine,"@@ you lie. Jordan gives you a look that says "I'm not stupid," before flicking his gaze toward Principal Zhang. @@.jordan;"It's him, right?'@@ You don't answer, but that says everything he needs to know. @@.jordan;"$name, look at me,"@@ Jordan says. He lightly nudges your face over and looks you dead in the eye. @@.jordan;"Do ''not'' let him mess you up."@@ You stare at the script, but the words are blurry. @@.player;"It's just that if I go up there and... and do Juliet, he'll..."@@ @@.jordan;"He'll what?"@@ Jordan says. The expression he wears on his face is cold. It's not angry, but it's cold. @@.jordan;"He'll try something."@@ @@.player;"He's been looking for reasons to get me out of school,"@@ you say, pressing your lips together. Jordan's eyes flick to the principal again. Jordan stares at him for a few seconds before looking back at you. His voice drops even lower. @@.jordan;"Then don't give him a reason to win."@@ @@.player;"That's not how it works,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"He doesn't //need// a real reason. He just needs something he can point at."@@ Jordan doesn't argue with that. Meanwhile, Mr. Bennet calls another pair. The next duo goes up, waiting at the side of the stage. You should be paying attention, but all you can think about is the feeling of being watched. Your brain starts building exit plans. You can claim you're feeling sick and leave. You could go to the bathroom and not come back. You could just... not do it. Mr. Bennet would be disappointed, sure, but he'd get over it. It's better to be disappointed than targeted, after all. Your hands feel numb. The scene ends. A few claps. Mr. Bennet smiles wide. @@.boy;"Overall, lovely work,"@@ he says after giving feedback. @@.boy;"Thank you. Wonderful work. Alright, Jordan and $name, please get to the side of the stage. You'll be going after this. Jin and Kelsey, get on stage."@@ The words hit you like a sledgehammer. You stand, but your legs are jelly. Jordan stands too, somehow steadier now than he was ten minutes ago. You walk toward the side of the stage with everyone's eyes on you. But only one pair of eyes matters to you. You can feel Principal Zhang's gaze drilling into you. You reach the side of the stage. It's covered by a wall, leaving you alone with Jordan. The stage entrance is right in front of you. Two steps and you're in front of everyone. But... the hallway is right there too. A few steps and you could be gone. You could avoid this entire fucking thing. You could avoid giving Principal Zhang a moment he can exploit. Your body shifts, just a little, toward the exit. Jordan notices instantly, and before you can move another inch, his hand comes down on your shoulder. It stops you in your tracks. @@.jordan;"$name,"@@ Jordan says quietly. You don't look at him at first because if you look at him, you might actually break. You keep your eyes glued on the doorway. Jordan's grip tightens. @@.jordan;"Don't,"@@ he says. Your voice comes out thin. @@.player;"I... I can't do this."@@ @@.jordan;"Yes, you can,"@@ Jordan says steadily. @@.jordan;"You're just scared."@@ You finally look at him, and Jordan's face is kind in a way you don't see often. @@.player;"He's watching me,"@@ you whisper. @@.jordan;"I know he is,"@@ he says. @@.jordan;"And you know what, $name? He ''wants'' you to fold."@@ @@.player;"It's not folding if I'm protecting myself,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"I understand that,"@@ Jordan says carefully. @@.jordan;"But listen to me. If you bolt right now, he gets exactly what he wants. He gets proof that he can scare you out of things."@@ That makes sense. @@.jordan;"You don't beat people like that by being smaller,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"You beat them by doing your thing anyway, regardless of what they have to say."@@ You stare at him, still breathing too fast. Jordan's voice sharpens. @@.jordan;"You think this is about Juliet? It's not. It's about control. And you do NOT give him control for free."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Jordan..."@@ He exhales, then says it plain, like he's done pretending to dance around it. @@.jordan;"That principal is an asshole. And the way you show him he can't mess with you is not by hiding, but by getting on that stage and doing your best despite it all."@@ Your throat burns. @@.jordan;"We'll just do the scene and walk off together, alright?"@@ Your knees feel a little weak, but you're no longer shaking. Jordan's hand on your shoulder is still there. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ Jordan echoes. @@.jordan;"We're going to kill it."@@ <<set $jordanAuditionCG to true>>\ <<set $jordanAuditionCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $jordanAuditionCGhairtie to $hairtie>>\ <<set $jordanAuditionCGeyes to $eyesProg>>\ <<set $jordanAuditionCGhairStyle to $hairStyle>>\ <<set $jordanAuditionCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_JordanAudition">>\ The group currently on stage wraps up. Mr. Bennet calls for a new pair to get in the position you're currently in. Jordan's hand gives you a quick squeeze on the shoulder. @@.jordan;"You ready?"@@ @@.player;"I guess I am,"@@ you say, laughing weakly. Jordan lets his arm drop and steps toward the stage entrance beside you. You step with him, heart hammering, but staying confident anyway. <<button "Stay strong!" "Day 24 - 12">><</button>>

<<set $d24auditionpoints to 0>>\ You and Jordan step onto the stage, and the room somehow feels twice as big as it did from your seat. Not because it actually is. This isn't some grand theater or anything like that, it's just the auditorium. Not even the real one, mind you, just a smaller one that somehow became Mr. Bennet's property. Every chair in the audience feels like it has eyes. Every little sound feels amplified. Your heart is pounding so hard you put a hand over your chest just to make sure it doesn't burst out. Mr. Bennet watches from the front with an encouraging expression, like he's already rooting for you. A couple of classmates lean forward. You can feel the anticipation. And then, just because your brain is evil, you feel Principal Zhang's presence. You glance toward the back and see him there. His posture is neat, his hands are folded, and his face has a (fake) smile plastered on. He's pretending like this is just a nice little school moment he decided to support. His eyes meet yours for a split second, and his smile grows just a little wider. It makes your skin crawl and your stomach twist. But you decide to look away. Not because you're //scared//, of course. Okay, fine, you are pretty scared. But you look away because you refuse to give him another second of your attention. You swallow hard, pushing the panic way down. No, $name. Not today. Don't let him into your mind. You feel Jordan's presence beside you, solid and steady, and you decide to latch onto that. You breathe in. You breathe out. Your hands stop shaking. You're Juliet. That means you start. You remember this moment, of course. They're alone after one stolen night together. It's morning now, and the sun is about to rise. The world is about to come rushing back and ruin everything. Romeo has to leave or he'll be caught, and caught means death. Romeo and Juliet both know that. But Juliet doesn't want morning to be real yet. She doesn't want to lose Romeo. Not yet. So she insists it's night even though it's not. They heard a lark call, but Juliet says it's actually a nightingale. She's not dumb, she knows what a lark sounds like. She //knows// that a lark signals morning. But she's trying to buy five more minutes of happiness with the thinnest excuse possible. And there's tenderness beneath it all. She's talking to the person she loves, after all. She's basically pleading for Romeo to stay, maybe with the world itself. That's what you have to deliver. <<if $jordanRomance > 19>>\ You look at Jordan. Your Romeo. He's ready, completely focused. <<else>>\ You look at Jordan, the one playing Romeo today. He's ready, completely focused. <</if>>\ You swallow again, and settle. You will ''not'' let Zhang ruin this. You refuse to. Now, you have to decide how Juliet says it. You're going to make the normal dramatic. You're going to make a bird as important as can be. <<button "Play Juliet as a cute tease" "Day 24 - 13">>\<<set $d24pduoaudition1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D24_pduoaudition1" "Play Juliet as a cute tease" "story">><</button>> <<button "Play Juliet as an intense lover" "Day 24 - 13">>\<<set $d24pduoaudition1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D24_pduoaudition1" "Play Juliet as an intense lover" "story">><</button>> <<button "Play Juliet as playful but sincere" "Day 24 - 13">>\<<set $d24pduoaudition1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D24_pduoaudition1" "Play Juliet as playful but sincere" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d24pduoaudition1 is 0>>\ <<set $d24auditionpoints += 1>>\ Your heart is still pounding, but you decide not to fight it head-on. Juliet's terrified, sure, but she's also with //him//. With Romeo, her lover. She's trying to keep him close, not by arguing like a lawyer, but by making him laugh. She's just trying to make the world outside feel less real for one more minute. So you go softer. You angle your body toward Jordan and get a little closer. Just close enough to feel like you're sharing a secret. @@.player;"Wilt thou be gone?"@@ you ask, giving him a playful look. Scolding, but only in the way you'd scold someone you love for leaving the party too early. @@.player;"It is not yet near day."@@ Then you tilt your head slightly, as if you're listening for the proof. @@.player;"It was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear,"@@ you say, letting it sound almost obvious. Romeo's being ridiculous for even thinking otherwise, after all. You keep the energy gentle and affectionate, as you're teasing him. You're trying to convince him with charm, not force. You glance toward an imaginary tree outside with a tiny, confident gesture. @@.player;"Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree."@@ And then you bring it back to him, making your voice soft. You're smiling a little, because you know Juliet would. @@.player;"Believe me, love,"@@ you say. Not like a demand, but like an invitation. Hoping he'll trust you and stay. @@.player;"It was the nightingale."@@ Jordan's reaction is one of satisfaction. His face eases, his eyes warming. It reads as if Romeo is wanting to believe her. He looks at you like, //I wish you were right//. He's so tempted by the softness you're offering. @@.jordan;"It was the lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale,"@@ Jordan says, with fond affection in his voice. He's staying logical, understanding that reality is pressing in. But Romeo would like nothing more than to believe his love, Juliet. @@.jordan;"Look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east,"@@ Jordan says, saying "love" like he truly means it. His expression is almost amused at your confidence. Romeo is on the verge of surrendering even as he corrects you. He turns his gaze briefly toward the imagined sunrise, then back to you, as if he doesn't want to look away from Juliet for too long. @@.jordan;"Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops,"@@ he says. The line comes out well. It's clear that he's found Romeo's rhythm and he likes the way you're meeting him. @@.jordan;"I must be gone and live, or stay and die,"@@ Jordan finishes, gently but firmly, perfectly delivering the line that has to cut through the sweetness. He ends there, right before the next part begins. Jordan watches you closely, ready for whatever Juliet says back. <<elseif $d24pduoaudition1 is 1>>\ <<set $d24auditionpoints -= 2>>\ You look at Jordan and decide the only way through it is to fully commit. Juliet isn't making a cute argument about birds because she likes birds. Juliet is fighting for time. Fighting for a world where she doesn't have to let go of Romeo just yet. If you play it soft, it risks feeling like a little disagreement, like a playful morning squabble. But this isn't that. Not to you, at least. This is a last hold on happiness. So you lean into the intensity on purpose. You're going to act like Juliet's love is the one thing in the room that can overpower the sunrise if she believes hard enough. You take a step toward him, getting close enough that the scene feels private. You're pulling Jordan, Romeo, into orbit. Your voice comes out low at first. @@.player;"Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day."@@ You let it sit, eyes on him, like you're daring him to admit the truth out loud. Then you keep going, building the argument piece by piece. @@.player;"It was the nightingale, not the lark,"@@ you say, a little firmer now, as if saying it could make it correct. @@.player;"That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear."@@ You don't rush the next part. @@.player;"Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree."@@ You lift your chin slightly, as if you can hear that birdcall you're insisting on. It isn't about being right, you know you're not, it's about insisting on a version of reality where you don't lose him yet. @@.player;"Believe me, love,"@@ you say, softening your voice. Not because you're backing off, but because it's personal. You're basically begging Romeo to understand. @@.player;"It was the nightingale."@@ Jordan's eyes stay on you. He's present, but there's a flicker of recalculation in his expression, like he's adjusting his Romeo to meet the force you're bringing. You've raised the intensity and he's deciding how to match it without messing up the scene. @@.jordan;"It was lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale,"@@ Jordan answers, steadying the moment with Romeo's logic. He keeps his eyes on you as he says it. Not the imaginary horizon, not at the audience to the left, but you. Then he adds the evidence, the world intruding whether you want it to or not. @@.jordan;"Look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east."@@ As he speaks, he subtly angles his head toward where the sunrise would be, like he can see it. As much as Romeo wishes he could deny it, the day is inevitably arriving. His tone stays calm, but there's urgency underneath it. Romeo's scared, he knows what the consequences will be if he stays. @@.jordan;"Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops,"@@ Jordan says, letting the beautiful words slip free. And then he lands it. @@.jordan;"I must be gone and live, or stay and die."@@ He finishes, right at the edge of the next moment. Right before Juliet has to answer him and the scene has to shift. All you have is the intensity that you're holding onto. <<elseif $d24pduoaudition1 is 2>>\ <<set $d24auditionpoints += 2>>\ Your heart is still going far too fast, but you don't let it drive the scene. You think that Juliet here isn't loud or desperate. She's just trying to keep the world from taking Romeo from her. So you aim for something that feels real. Playful on the surface, like you're gently poking at him, but sincere underneath, because Juliet knows that the stakes are there. She's laughing a little so she doesn't cry. She's teasing because it's the only way she can ask him to stay without pleading. You shift toward Jordan slightly, to make the conversation feel private, and make your expression soft. @@.player;"Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day,"@@ you say. You add a tiny bit of humor, almost a laugh, in the first line. Juliet right now would be thinking, "Seriously? You're leaving already?" There's fondness there. @@.player;"It was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear."@@ You pretend like it's an obvious truth, even though everyone, including Juliet, knows it's false. You flick your gaze toward the imaginary sunset outside just briefly, like you can picture everything perfectly. You, and Juliet, have already decided what story you're telling yourselves for the next few minutes. @@.player;"Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree."@@ Then you bring it back to Romeo. @@.player;"Believe me, love,"@@ you say, letting the "love" sound soft and earnest. @@.player;"It was the nightingale."@@ Jordan responds instantly, meeting your performance. But... he doesn't have to adjust much, because you played the scene exactly as it should be. Jordan lets his face relax, letting it read as Romeo being pulled in by Juliet. He knows Juliet's being impossible, but he finds that endearing. But he ''has'' to argue. He ''has'' to be logical, because he knows what will happen if he isn't. @@.jordan;"It was the lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale,"@@ Jordan says, making the correction gently. Jordan sweeps his hand across the imaginary sunrise. @@.jordan;"Look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east."@@ He looks back to you right away. Romeo hates looking away from Juliet. He needs to cherish every moment he has with her. @@.jordan;"Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops,"@@ he says, a bit of somberness creeping into his voice. Jordan delivers the last line clearly, the harsh final truth. @@.jordan;"I must be gone and live, or stay and die."@@ The light hangs there, right before the next part of the scene. Juliet's answer is waiting in your throat. <</if>>\ <<button "The sun rises" "Day 24 - 14">><</button>>

Jordan finishes Romeo's last line, and it feels like time itself freezes. Like the whole room is waiting for you to answer him, even though everyone knows what the next lines will be and that the only stakes are what roles you two will get in a high school play. But in the scene? It's completely different. This is about life and death. About love and hate. In the next section, Juliet tries a different tactic. The bird argument didn't work, and Romeo was easily able to point out the fact that night is almost over and the sun is about to soon rise. He laid out the truth. If he stays, he dies. So Juliet pivots. You can practically feel the turn in the writing. Juliet stops arguing about what they heard and starts arguing about what they see. That light outside can't possibly be daylight piercing through the clouds. It's something else. Something that doesn't signal morning. A meteor, perhaps. Juliet is basically inventing a new reality with her own hands. She's trying to rewrite the sky because she doesn't want to see the truth. Juliet is in denial, but only because love is doing what love can often do. Love will bargain and lie just to buy even one more minute of time. Juliet isn't dumb. She knows, somewhere deep down, that she's lying. But she's ignoring that because she doesn't want Romeo to go. She even knows that Romeo doesn't want to go. He's trying to be practical, but he wants an excuse to stay just as much as her. He wants her to give him permission. And once Juliet does, Romeo takes her lie and runs with it. He says, fine! If you say it's not day, then it's not day. If you want me to stay, I'll stay. If staying means death, then I will die. To Romeo, even dying would be worth it if it means not leaving her. It's sweet, yet terrifying. You can now feel your own choice coming up. How the hell do you deliver this next part so it lands the way Mr. Bennet wants? How do you make the ordinary dramatic without underdoing or overdoing it? You swallow and decide what you think Juliet is doing with her heart in this moment. <<button "Play Juliet as a girl who is just improvising nonsense" "Day 24 - 15">>\<<set $d24pduoaudition2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D24_pduoaudition2" "Play Juliet as a girl who is just improvising nonsense" "story">><</button>> <<button "Play Juliet as a girl who is playing dumb" "Day 24 - 15">>\<<set $d24pduoaudition2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D24_pduoaudition2" "Play Juliet as a girl who is playing dumb" "story">><</button>> <<button "Play Juliet as a girl who is dumb" "Day 24 - 15">>\<<set $d24pduoaudition2 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D24_pduoaudition2" "Play Juliet as a girl who is dumb" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d24pduoaudition2 is 0>>\ <<set $d24auditionpoints += 1>>\ You decide that Juliet isn't actually sure of anything. She's just talking fast because if she stops talking, the morning becomes real. Too real. So you lean into that. Juliet isn't dumb, she's just a girl improvising whatever comes to mind because she needs an excuse. Any excuse that sounds convincing enough, so that Romeo stays for just another minute. When you speak, it's confident on the surface, but there's a frantic edge underneath it. Your Juliet is building a story as she speaks and praying it holds. @@.player;"Yond light is not daylight, I know it, I,"@@ you say, keeping a little laugh in your voice. Not because it's particularly funny, but because you're trying to make it feel like this is no big deal. That way, Romeo doesn't need to leave. You look toward the "sky," as if you're searching for proof. @@.player;"It is... some meteor that the sun exhaled!"@@ you say. You let the word "meteor" come out like a sudden idea you're proud of. You managed to find an explanation that //totally// makes sense. @@.player;"To be to thee this night a torchbearer and light thee on thy way to Mantua."@@ You say "Mantua" quickly, because it reminds you of where Romeo must go. It reminds Juliet that her love must leave. You don't want to linger on it for long. @@.player;"Therefore stay yet,"@@ you say, landing the point. @@.player;"Thou need'st not to be gone."@@ You read the last line persuasively, hoping to get Romeo to stay. Jordan reacts in a way that fits. Romeo hears Juliet and wants to oblige. His expression shifts into fondness, although he does seem reluctant. Romeo can tell you're spinning a story, after all. He just loves Juliet so much he wants to believe it. He exhales, with just a hint of a smile on his face, then steps into your invented world because he'd rather live there than in the sunrise. @@.jordan;"Let me be ta'en; let me be put to death,"@@ he says with dramatic resignation. Romeo is thinking that he'll go all the way with the lie. @@.jordan;"I am content, so thou wilt have it so."@@ His gaze stays on you as he speaks, like he's giving you what you asked for. He's saying yes, even though he knows it's the dangerous kind of yes. @@.jordan;"I'll say yon gray is not the morning's eye;"@@ Jordan gestures toward the "light," playing along. @@.jordan;"'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow."@@ He lets the poetry bloom a little here. That's Romeo's way of making denial beautiful, after all. He's making your nonsense into something that almost feels true. @@.jordan;"Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads."@@ His voice steadies with that, and you can hear him leaning into the fantasy with you. Not because he believes it, but because he believes //you//. He wants to stay more than he wants to be right. @@.jordan;"I have more care to stay than will to go,"@@ Jordan states, having made a choice. Then he pushes it to the edge, letting his devotion turn reckless. @@.jordan;"Come death and welcome. Juliet wills it so."@@ The way Jordan delivers it is perfect. He makes the stakes rise. Romeo isn't just indulging you for fun, he's willing to die for you. It's romantic and terrifying at the same time. @@.jordan;"How is 't, my soul? let's talk. It is not the day,"@@ he finishes softly. Jordan completes his section there, and your Juliet's improvised story hangs in the air between you. It was good enough to get Romeo to give up everything to stay in the fantasy with you. Now you must get to the next part. <<elseif $d24pduoaudition2 is 1>>\ <<set $d24auditionpoints += 2>>\ You decide Juliet //knows//. She knows it's morning. She knows the light is wrong for night. She knows the lark is out there and the world is already waking up. She's not actually fooled by the sky, the girl isn't stupid. But she also knows Romeo wants an excuse, any excuse, to stay. So she gives him one. She's sweet, playful, and acts just dumb enough to make it feel like a game. Not because she's clueless, but because she loves him and can't bear to be the one who tells Romeo it's day and he must go. You let that choice show in tiny ways. You pause before you speak, you let your eyes flick toward the imaginary sunset, and add a bit of laughter underneath your lines. The audience might not notice, but Mr. Bennet and Jordan most certainly will. @@.player;"Yond light is not daylight, I know it, I,"@@ you say with cheerful certainty. You're almost smug about it, like you've cracked the case and Romeo is the silly one for doubting you for even a second. But you lace it with affection, like you're inviting him to play along. You make sure to keep your eyes on Jordan more than the window, because the goal isn't the sky. The goal is Romeo. @@.player;"It is some meteor that the sun exhales,"@@ you say, adding the explanation. You make the word "meteor" sound like the most obvious solution in the world. There's a tiny smirk on your face, the same kind of smile Juliet would use when she's trying to charm someone into doing what she wants. @@.player;"To be to thee this night a torchbearer and light thee on thy way to Mantua."@@ You turn the ridiculous idea into something sweet. Like the universe itself is giving Romeo a little light to guide him. Why? Because you, your Juliet, wants more than anything for that to be true. It's easier to talk about a helpful meteor than talk about a goodbye. @@.player;"Therefore, stay yet,"@@ you say, almost pleading. You're pretending to be confident, but you're really not. @@.player;"Thou need'st not to be gone."@@ Jordan reacts in a positive way. You can tell it landed for him. He seems pleased, almost relieved, like he understands exactly what you're doing and is grateful for it. He lets himself smile for just a split second before he answers. @@.jordan;"Let me be ta'en; let me be put to death,"@@ Jordan delivers with Romeo's recklessness. @@.jordan;"I am content, so thou wilt have it so."@@ He meets your eyes when he says it, like he's agreeing to your story because you asked him to. @@.jordan;"I'll say yon gray is not the morning's eye;"@@ He gestures toward the window, but his attention keeps snapping back to you. The sunrise doesn't matter as much as the fact that you're both pretending together. @@.jordan;"'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow."@@ He leans into poetry here with real ease. He's turned your "meteor" into something beautiful and romantic, even as the truth presses in. @@.jordan;"Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads,"@@ he says, voice steadying. He's fully stepped into the shared lie with you. @@.jordan;"I have more care to stay than will to go."@@ That line lands like a vow, and you can feel that it worked. Then he pushes it to the very edge, devotion turning dangerous. @@.jordan;"Come death and welcome. Juliet wills it so."@@ And then he brings it back down, making it soft and intimate again. After all, neither Romeo nor Juliet want to die. They just want the world to stay out for another hour. @@.jordan;"How is 't, my soul? Let's talk. It is not day."@@ He ends right before the next part. Jordan looks genuinely satisfied with your Juliet. You two are playing the same game, and for a moment, you actually succeeded made the morning wait. <<elseif $d24pduoaudition2 is 2>>\ <<set $d24auditionpoints -= 2>>\ You decide that Juliet is stupid. She's not playing dumb or improvising or anything like that. No, she genuinely doesn't realize day is coming. In your head, it feels like clarity. Juliet is being smart and practical and refusing to be tricked by what is obviously a meteor. @@.player;"Yond light is not daylight, I know it, I,"@@ you say, delivering the line with full certainty. It isn't daylight, after all. You even glance "outside" with a small smile, satisfied after being right. @@.player;"It is some meteor that the sun exhaled to be to thee this night a torchbearer."@@ You say "meteor" like it's the most reasonable explanation in the world. You're just pointing out that the light is very clearly from a meteor. Daylight? Preposterous! It's a meteor. @@.player;"And light thee on thy way to Mantua,"@@ you intone earnestly. The universe personally arranged a helpful meteor to guide Romeo home. How kind. You finish the thought with a smile, as if you just closed a case. @@.player;"Therefore stay yet. Thou need'st not to be gone."@@ The last line ends everything. Problem solved! No urgency required! Why would Romeo leave? It's still nighttime. Jordan stares at you for the tiniest bit too long. You can see his eyebrows lifting and his mouth opening. His eyes flick across your face like he's checking whether you're joking. The issue is that you're not. He looks genuinely confused. Not in character, but as Jordan. He doesn't understand what the hell you're doing here. His Romeo has suddenly been thrust into a scene with a Juliet who can't tell daylight from a meteor. For a split second, he looks a little unhappy. It's clear that he has to change the way he was about to play Romeo because of the way you played Juliet. But Jordan recovers fast. He's good at recovering. He swallows whatever reaction he has, goes back into character, and answers with Romeo's lines as best as he can. He's going to have to do his best to build the scene back up after you just knocked it down. @@.jordan;"Let me be ta'ekn; let me be put to death!"@@ Jordan says, delivering it with seriousness. You can tell he's still a little confused though, as he doesn't know quite what expression to wear. @@.jordan;"I am content, so thou wilt have it so."@@ He keeps going, trying to make it feel like Romeo is devoted. @@.jordan;"I'll say yon gray is not the morning's eye; 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow,"@@ Jordan says, eyes flicking toward the imaginary sky. He leans into the poetry, doing his best to pull the moment back into romance and away from meteors. @@.jordan;"Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads,"@@ Jordan says, like he's arguing with himself as much as with you. In this version of the scene, Juliet is a dumbass who genuinely thinks the sunlight is from a meteor. Jordan has to play a Romeo who's so madly in love that he's going along with her delusions. @@.jordan;"I have more care to stay than will to go,"@@ Jordan says, holding the scene up with sheer willpower. @@.jordan;"Come death and welcome. Juliet wills it so."@@ Jordan seems strained, but he keeps it together anyway. @@.jordan;"How is 't, my soul?"@@ he says, gearing up to finish. @@.jordan;"Let's talk. It is not day."@@ Jordan's eyes are locked on you, begging for you to meet him in the right tone next time. He's ready either way though, even if he has no idea where your Juliet is taking this. <</if>>\ <<button "You're Romeo's world" "Day 24 - 16">><</button>>

In the next section, Juliet has to stop pretending. After the birds, after the meteor, after Romeo leaning in, Juliet finally has to do the thing she's been dreading. She has to admit that it is, in fact, morning. And the way Shakespeare shifts the writing is brutal, because Juliet doesn't ease into it. She snaps into action. The fantasy collapses and suddenly she's the practical one. She's pushing Romeo away to keep him from dying. She goes from "stay" to "go" in an instant, not because she stopped loving him, but because loving him means letting him go. That's what you feel under the line. The sudden whiplash of love becoming protection. Juliet hears the lark now and she hates it. Not because it's a bad bird, but because it's signaling her separation from Romeo. She starts insulting it by saying it's singing harsh and out of tune. She even insults how it looks, calling its eyes disgusting. It's almost funny on paper, the girl has beef with a bird. But it isn't really about the bird at all. It's about the fact that the bird's voice is literally prying them apart. There's even this clever line in it that stings. People often say the lark's singing makes for a sweet transition between night and day. To Juliet, it doesn't, because that song symbolizes division from her one true love. It's grief, and she's taking it out on the bird. She's being poetically angry. Then she spirals into an old folk belief. There's this story that says a lark exchanged its eyes for the ugly ones of a toad. Juliet says she wishes they changed voices as well, since the lark's voice is the one that'll send men on the hunt for Romeo. She can feel the light growing too. Not metaphorically, but physically. She can literally see the sun rising and day coming. More and more light means more and more danger. So Juliet does the worst thing for her heart and the best thing for Romeo's survival. She tells him to go. Standing there on stage, you must now decide how to play Juliet in this moment. How do you pivot to this sudden urgency? Juliet has to push and let go, and it's up to you to decide what it looks like. <<button "Play Juliet as frustrated and snapping" "Day 24 - 17">>\<<set $d24pduoaudition3 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D24_pduoaudition3" "Play Juliet as frustrated and snapping" "story">><</button>> <<button "Play Juliet as quietly heartbroken" "Day 24 - 17">>\<<set $d24pduoaudition3 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D24_pduoaudition3" "Play Juliet as quietly heartbroken" "story">><</button>> <<button "Play Juliet as reluctantly accepting the truth" "Day 24 - 17">>\<<set $d24pduoaudition3 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D24_pduoaudition3" "Play Juliet as reluctantly accepting the truth" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d24pduoaudition3 is 0>>\ <<set $d24auditionpoints -= 2>>\ Instead of letting Juliet's urgency come from love, you let it come out as irritation. Like Romeo is being difficult on purpose. Like the fact that he needs to leave is genuinely pissing you off. Juliet sees the light growing and feels annoyed by that. She turns sharper and directs that toward Romeo. So you let your shoulders tense and your voice rise. You cut at Romeo, snapping the words like they're meant to get him to leave. @@.player;"it is, it is. Hie hence, begone, away!"@@ you scold. You sound like you're fed up with Romeo. Why the hell is he even still here? Jordan's eyes flicker and you can tell he's confused. He has to adjust on the fly because your Juliet just suddenly veered into frustration. He stays in character, but he doesn't seem too happy. You keep going, the lines spilling out faster. Your anger is latching onto the bird now. @@.player;"It is the lark that sings so out of tune, straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps."@@ You hit the words hard, like the lark personally wronged you and is now your mortal enemy. Your gestures are bigger than they need to be. @@.player;"Some say the lark makes sweet division,"@@ you deliver sarcastically. You let out a bit of a scoff. @@.player;"that doth not so, for she divideth us."@@ You press on, irritation building and building. @@.player;"Some say the lark and loathed toad changed eyes. O, now I wish they had changed voices too,"@@ you rant. @@.player;"Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day."@@ By the time you reach your final line, your Juliet is basically just venting. You seem like you want Romeo gone because you're done with him. @@.player;"O, now begone. More light and light it grows."@@ There's this pause for a second. Jordan struggles a little, trying to decide how Romeo responds to the Juliet you just played. He seems disappointed in the way you shaped the scene. He does what he can though, as he has the final line. He drops his voice to be darker, trying to pull emotion back under the words. He's trying to end on the ache the scene is supposed to end on, even after what you did. @@.jordan;"More light and light, more dark and dark our woes."@@ <<elseif $d24pduoaudition3 is 1>>\ <<set $d24auditionpoints += 1>>\ You play Juliet as someone who is heartbroken at the realization that her one true love must leave. She's not going to be super loud or dramatic, she's just sad at the inevitable split. It //is// morning. You can hear it now. You can feel it. And the only thing you can do is accept it. So your voice comes out soft, like it's taking genuine effort just to get the words to leave your throat. The words that you oh so dearly don't want to say. @@.player;"It is, it is. Hie hence, begone, away!"@@ You say it like you're telling him to go because you ''have'' to, not because you want to. You wrap your line in urgency, but only to hide the quiet heartbreak. The command is breaking you as you speak it. You don't look at the imaginary sunset much. That isn't important. You look at Jordan. At Romeo. Like you're trying to memorize his face even while you push him away. @@.player;"It is the lark that sings so out of tune, straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps,"@@ you say. You target the bird because it's easier to be angry at a bird than the world. Juliet genuinely can't stand the bird's song because it means separation. Jordan's expression stays steady. He doesn't have to fight your interpretation. He just has to go along with it. @@.player;"Some say the lark makes sweet division,"@@ you say slowly. You try and make it sound like you almost want to laugh at how ridiculous that sounds. But the heartbreak comes through. @@.player;"This doth not so, for she divideth us."@@ That line hits hard. @@.player;"Some say the lark and loathed toad changed eyes,"@@ you say, bringing up an old folk story Juliet most certainly heard while young. @@.player;"O, now I would they had changed voices too."@@ The next lines come faster. Not because you, $name, are nervous, but because Juliet is trying to get Romeo out before she loses the nerve to do it. @@.player;"Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day."@@ Then you reach the final urging. Your final line. @@.player;"O, now begone,"@@ you're forced to say. @@.player;"More light and light it grows."@@ You make it sound like it physically pains you to say that. Jordan takes the line after you with calm steadiness. He doesn't have to scramble to adjust. Instead, he can just be Romeo. A wounded, resigned Romeo. @@.jordan;"More light and light, more dark and dark our woes."@@ <<elseif $d24pduoaudition3 is 2>>\ <<set $d24auditionpoints += 2>>\ You shift. Not into panic or into anger, but something much more difficult. Acceptance. Juliet can't keep pretending. The sky is too bright and the lark's sound is too clear. It's time for their momentary escape to end. And for a second, you let that truth show in your face, like a crack spreading through glass. But you must do what true love demands. You breathe in once, steadying, and when you speak, your voice carries reluctant clarity. @@.player;"It is, it is. Hie hence, begone, away!"@@ you say. You don't spit it out or snap it because Juliet wouldn't. She's not trying to punish him, after all. She's trying to save him. @@.player;"It is the lark that sings so out of tune, straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps,"@@ you continue, targeting the lark with bitter resignation. To Juliet, the cruel world has turned the lark's beautiful song into an ugly sound. You stay composed, not doing any big gestures. You don't really need to, as your face and eyes do all the work. You try and make it read as Juliet forcing herself to stay steady. Jordan's expression shifts in response. He seems relieved by the fact that he can follow this. Romeo can meet a Juliet who's choosing to be brave. @@.player;"Some say the lark makes sweet division,"@@ you say bitterly, as if even repeating that idea is insulting. @@.player;"This doth not so, for she divideth us."@@ Jordan's gaze stays locked on you, and you can feel him settle deeper into Romeo. You move into the next thought with that same reluctant acceptance. @@.player;"Some say the lark and loathed toad changed eyes,"@@ you say, bringing up the old folktale Juliet must've heard so many times. @@.player;"O, now I would they had changed voices too."@@ @@.player;"Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day."@@ On "arm from arm," you let your eyes flick downward. It's as if you can feel that separation arriving. But then you lift your eyes again. Juliet doesn't have time to collapse. She has to move Romeo, before he makes up his mind to just stay. @@.player;"O, now begone!"@@ you say decisively, like you're forcing your heart to step aside so your brain can do what must be done. @@.player;"More light and light it grows."@@ Jordan answers immediately, quietly satisfied. @@.jordan;"More light and light, more dark and dark our woes,"@@ Jordan says. <</if>>\ It lands, and then it's over. After the final word remains only silence. You don't have any more lines, and Jordan doesn't have any more lines. You can hear Mr. Bennet shift. He clicks his pen, rustles with his notes, and coughs as he gets ready to speak. Now you're just waiting for whatever comes next. <<button "How did you do?" "Day 24 - 18">><</button>>

Mr. Bennet waits a bit longer than what feels comfortable. He wants the room to digest it, after all. Also, he probably enjoys scaring you guys. But then he finally gets up, clapping once. @@.boy;"Thank you!"@@ he says, bright. @@.boy;"Jordan and $name, thank you for your performance."@@ You and Jordan immediately loosen your postures, breathing hard like you're remembering you're in a classroom, not Juliet's bedroom. Your hands feel a little numb from the adrenaline. @@.boy;"Alright,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, raising a finger. @@.boy;"We'll start by giving $name feedback. Jordan, I'm going to give you notes too, just after. Don't worry, I won't forget you."@@ Jordan nods. <<if $d24auditionpoints is 6>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24AuditionResult1">>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tdelivery to Math.clamp($tdelivery + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tmovement to Math.clamp($tmovement + 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $timmersion to Math.clamp($timmersion + 10, 0, 100)>>\ Mr. Bennet smiles wide, looking genuinely thrilled. It's the way teachers look when a student does exactly what they've taught. A moment that makes one remember why they entered the profession in the first place. @@.boy;"$name, you understood the assignment,"@@ he says, stepping forward and lifting his hands. @@.boy;"You truly were able to chase the moment. You made a conversation about birds feel like a fight for time!"@@ He gestures toward Jordan. @@.boy;"You gave your partner something playable, making choices that invited response. That's the kind of thing veterans do. Your Romeo was walking right alongside you."@@ @@.boy;"There are so many people who panic,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"Their voices get louder and their gestures get wilder. But you didn't do that. If anything, you got clearer."@@ He presses his hand to his chest, moved by the performance. @@.boy;"I felt like I was seeing a version of Juliet I hadn't seen before. And for someone who's been appreciating theater for many decades, that's a very rare sight indeed."@@ @@.boy;"That's the kind of work that makes a director's day,"@@ He finishes. @@.boy;"Truly beautiful."@@ <<elseif $d24auditionpoints > 2>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24AuditionResult2">>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tdelivery to Math.clamp($tdelivery + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tmovement to Math.clamp($tmovement + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $timmersion to Math.clamp($timmersion + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Mr. Bennet looks energized. He's happy as a clam, like he's watching something with real potential finally take shape. @@.boy;"$name, that was strong work,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, nodding firmly. @@.boy;"You had real stakes. You made choices about the text that made sense. I could tell you put a lot of thought into your Juliet and what kind of person she was."@@ @@.boy;"There were some moments where I felt a different direction could've been better,"@@ Mr. Bennet admits. @@.boy;"But the directions you took were very solid and good ones in their own right. You made the scene feel human."@@ Mr. Bennet gives you a smile. @@.boy;"This is exactly what I was looking for. You're very, very close to something excellent. And I'm ''very'' excited about that."@@ <<elseif $d24auditionpoints > -3>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24AuditionResult3">>\ <<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tdelivery to Math.clamp($tdelivery + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tmovement to Math.clamp($tmovement + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $timmersion to Math.clamp($timmersion + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.boy;"There were many pieces that worked,"@@ Mr. Bennet begins, speaking in a measured tone. @@.boy;"I saw moments where Juliet showed up, where the scene had breath, where you and Jordan connected."@@ He nods, acknowledging the effort you put into the audition. The nerves you must've felt as you stepped out onto the stage. @@.boy;"But overall, it felt like you were still searching while you were speaking,"@@ he says, breaking the truth to you. @@.boy;"You hadn't fully decided who your Juliet was, and what she wanted from your Romeo."@@ He doesn't get into specifics just yet. He just frames the general issue. @@.boy;"In paired readings, if your intention isn't clear, the scene gets slippery. The story continues, but not in the way it was meant to."@@ @@.boy;"That said, this was not a disaster,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, softening again. @@.boy;"This was a very high-pressure situation, and I could see the vision. There truly were some real moments that tell me you have the ability. We just need to lock things in."@@ He finishes with a small, encouraging smile. @@.boy;"You have more talent than you think, and we're going to figure out a way to unlock it."@@ <<elseif $d24auditionpoints > -6>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24AuditionResult4">>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo - 1, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tdelivery to Math.clamp($tdelivery - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tmovement to Math.clamp($tmovement - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $timmersion to Math.clamp($timmersion - 5, 0, 100)>>\ Mr. Bennet's posture changes. He doesn't flip his scarf like he always does when he's being theatrical. Instead, he gets serious. He's trying to tell the truth while not hurting your feelings. @@.boy;"$name, I'm going to have to be direct here,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, choosing his words very carefully. @@.boy;"I respect you and I respect what you've shown this semester. But that did not show your best."@@ He raises a hand slightly to keep you from panicking. @@.boy;"That doesn't mean you're not capable. I've seen you, I've talked to you, and I know you're very capable. But that also means you have more than that in you."@@ @@.boy;"So don't get discouraged by this,"@@ Mr. Bennet says firmly. @@.boy;"Treat this as encouragement. Something stopped you from doing your best today, and our job is to identify it."@@ He nods. @@.boy;"You still showed up, you still did your best, but I am going to have to ask more of you next time. You ''can'' do more."@@ <<elseif $d24auditionpoints is -6>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24AuditionResult5">>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo - 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tpresence to Math.clamp($tpresence - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tdelivery to Math.clamp($tdelivery - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $tmovement to Math.clamp($tmovement - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $timmersion to Math.clamp($timmersion - 10, 0, 100)>>\ Mr. Bennet pauses for a second, wondering how to phrase this. When he begins speaking, it's unusually calm and serious. @@.boy;"$name, I appreciate your bravery,"@@ he says gently. @@.boy;"I mean it. You got up there and you performed in front of the entire class."@@ He takes a deep breath before continuing. @@.boy;"But that was rather... chaotic."@@ He's not harsh with his words. Mr. Bennet isn't that type of person. @@.boy;"And I want to be careful here, because I don't want you to hear 'chaotic' and get discouraged,"@@ he adds. @@.boy;"That's the last thing I would want, both as a teacher and a lover of theater."@@ @@.boy;"You have the ability and the potential, $name,"@@ Mr. Bennet states, certain in those words. @@.boy;"What happened up there, though, looked like you didn't quite understand the scene. You didn't commit to a clear Juliet. You didn't truly understand how she felt before you got on that stage."@@ @@.boy;"The harsh truth is that I know you're capable of more,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, sounding genuinely disappointed. @@.boy;"I just wish you settled for better choices."@@ @@.boy;"There is good news though,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, offering a lifeline. @@.boy;"This is all completely fixable. You can do more, $name, I guarantee you. You just need more practice."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Mr. Bennet Evaluation?" "Day 24 - 19">><</button>>

@@.boy;"Alright, I'm going to give specific feedback now, $name,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, lifting up his notes. @@.boy;"We'll go section by section."@@ He turns to you with his director face on. <<if $d24pduoaudition1 is 0>>\ @@.boy;"Cute teasing was a good direction,"@@ he says, nodding. @@.boy;"It's in the text. Juliet is absolutely trying to keep Romeo with her using affection and playfulness."@@ He then lifts a hand, as if holding the thought. @@.boy;"But, here's the thing, you leaned a bit too far into the teasing. It flattened the stakes. It made the scene feel more like bantering between a couple instead of two people trying to survive a difficult goodbye."@@ @@.boy;"Juliet is teasing because she loves him, yes,"@@ he begins. @@.boy;"But hidden underneath that teasing is sincerity. She doesn't want Romeo to leave. She wants to spend more time with him. The teasing is the wrapper, not the core."@@ He looks at you, encouraging. @@.boy;"So if you choose that approach, keep a bit of the truth visible. Let it peek through. Let us feel that she's smiling because she's trying not to cry."@@ @@.boy;"Don't be sad, though, as this was a very good choice,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, reeling it back in. @@.boy;"It's just that I know you can make it even better with some refinement."@@ <<elseif $d24pduoaudition1 is 1>>\ @@.boy;"Okay,"@@ he begins, @@.boy;"that was not the best direction for this particular moment."@@ Mr. Bennet pauses, glancing over his notes. @@.boy;"The intensity you brought belongs somewhere in //Romeo and Juliet//,"@@ he continues. @@.boy;"It just doesn't belong here."@@ @@.boy;"This scene is very intimate,"@@ Mr. Bennet explains. @@.boy;"It's two lovers in a room, trying to hold onto night. The power is in the simplicity. If you get that intense immediately, the audience can feel like some steps are missing."@@ He taps the page. @@.boy;"Juliet wants Romeo to stay, you got that right. But she's still playful as of yet. She just had the happiest night of her life thus far. She knows what must happen, but she's still happy. You made the energy too big."@@ @@.boy;"So bring it down next time,"@@ Mr. Bennet finishes. @@.boy;"Let the intensity lurk underneath and leak out. Don't let it be that visible. Not yet, at least."@@ <<elseif $d24pduoaudition1 is 2>>\ @@.boy;"I have to say, your acting perfectly aligned with my vision,"@@ he says simply. Despite being in director mode, he can't help but smile a little. He takes a step forward. @@.boy;"You were playful yet sincere. That is ''exactly'' the balance I'm looking for here. Juliet is being a tease, yes, but it's a strategy. It's out of love. It's her trying to express her feelings without becoming a downer."@@ @@.boy;"Your choice let us feel the intimacy and stakes at the same time,"@@ Mr. Bennet states, gesturing at you. @@.boy;"The words stayed light while the sincerity underneath told us what she really wanted."@@ @@.boy;"That is exactly how I think Shakespeare meant for the scene to be played,"@@ he adds. @@.boy;"It's the morning after an amazing night. They're still very young and in love. Juliet doesn't want such a good moment to end."@@ Mr. Bennet nods. @@.boy;"So, that was an excellent choice."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "How dramatic..." "Day 24 - 20">><</button>>

<<set $bra to $d18bra>>\ You step out of your front door and the morning air hits you like a reset button, cool and crisp on your skin. The sky looks pretty, the sun is bright, and the neighborhood is quiet. A couple birds are yelling at each other in a tree, though. Maybe they're having their own auditions. You lock the door behind you, tug your backpack strap up onto your shoulder, and try to walk like you're not thinking about later. Like you're not mentally replaying //Romeo and Juliet// lines in your head. At the edge of your driveway, as always, is Luke. He's leaning forward slightly, bouncing on his heels like a hyperactive kid. The second he sees you, his whole face lights up. @@.luke;"$name!"@@ he says, loud enough that it may have woken up your neighbor. He waves both arms as if you're a plane landing. @@.luke;"DUDE. HI. OKAY. SO!"@@ You don't even have time to say hi back before he barrels right into whatever is happening inside his brain. @@.luke;"Bruno, BRUNO IS, bro, I thought Bruno died,"@@ Luke blurts, and your stomach drops for half a second because you love that stupid dog. Luke keeps going without taking a breath. @@.luke;"Like, okay, so, my mom was like, 'Luke, sweetie, Bruno isn't moving,' and I was like, 'NO. NO. NOT TODAY.' And then I ran over and he was just... there."@@ Luke's hands make a dramatic shape in the air, his eyebrows lifting with pure horror as he relives it. @@.luke;"He was on the rug,"@@ Luke continues, eyes wide. @@.luke;"Just like, flat. Like a pancake. Like a furry old pancake that smells like... old dog. Like he always does. And I was like 'BRUNO ARE YOU OKAY?' And he didn't move. I swear that my heart, like, actually stopped, $name. I was like, this is it. This is the day the universe takes my dog from me."@@ You blink at him. @@.player;"Luke–"@@ @@.luke;"And then he sighed!"@@ Luke interrupts. You pause. @@.player;"He what?"@@ Luke nods. @@.luke;"He sighed, opened one eye, looked at me, then went right back to sleep."@@ You stare at him, not sure whether to laugh or not. @@.player;"So... Bruno didn't die. He just didn't want to move."@@ @@.luke;"Yes!"@@ Luke says, delighted. @@.luke;"That's the thing, he's literally so old that you can't tell if he's dead or just being dramatic. Like he's an ancient artifact. Like you know those old museum dogs? Like those Egyptian dogs that are mummies?"@@ @@.player;"That's not what they're called,"@@ you mumble. Luke waves that away. @@.luke;"Same thing. Anyway, I was like begging to Bruno, pleading for him to get up. And all he did was just move his paw like..."@@ Luke demonstrated, flicking his wrist lazily. @@.luke;"...like he was telling me to go away. Like, what is he even busy with? Why won't he play with me?"@@ Luke doesn't notice that you're not responding much yet. He's still on a roll. @@.luke;"And then he does this thing where he pretends he can't hear me even though I'm calling him,"@@ Luke says, walking beside you. @@.luke;"I asked Bruno if he wanted to play, and he did not move an inch, okay? But then my mom opened a bag of chips and then he appeared in the kitchen like a ghost. Like he teleported. Like, he just materialized, bro. And his legs don't even work right half the time!"@@ You try to respond, you really do, but all you can think about are auditions. You make a small noise of acknowledgment, and Luke keeps filling the air anyway. You're certain that Luke could talk to a brick wall and even that would eventually start nodding. @@.luke;"He also licks the air,"@@ Luke adds, as if this is a critical detail. @@.luke;"Like he'll just be sitting there and he'll just lick the air. And then he'll sneeze on himself and get all mad about it. Like, he'll sneeze, and then he'll look at me all offended like I made him sneeze."@@ You let out a short huff. @@.luke;"And,"@@ Luke continues, lowering his voice like he's revealing classified information, @@.luke;"he farts in his sleep."@@ @@.player;"Luke."@@ @@.luke;"I'm not even kidding, bro,"@@ Luke insists. @@.luke;"It's like... an ancient curse. Like you know you have your whole magic thing?"@@ @@.player;"I am not cursed with magic farts."@@ Luke barrels right over that too. @@.luke;"Okay, I didn't mean it like that, but I'm saying Bruno has a fart curse. Like he can't stop. Like the moment he falls asleep, his body just releases all the demons. And then when he wakes up, he's confused why the room smells so bad."@@ You take a deeper breath than necessary. The air is cold enough to sting, which is honestly helpful right now. It gives you something to focus on. Luke keeps talking about Brunos' various crimes against nature, but you're not really listening. Most of your brain is stuck thinking about the audition. What if you freeze? What if you're bad? What if you get a role you hate? What if you don't get anything at all? Apparently, Luke has enough awareness to notice, because after a minute, his voice slows. @@.luke;"...and then he tried to eat a sock,"@@ Luke says, before suddenly stopping. He glances at you, his face shifting from excitement to worry. @@.luke;"Hey. Wait."@@ You keep walking. Luke jogs forward so he can see your face. @@.luke;"Why are you being, like... quiet? Are you mad? Did I say something weird?"@@ You snort, finding the question funny. @@.player;"No,"@@ you say, your voice coming out more tired than you meant it to. @@.player;"I'm not mad."@@ Luke's eyebrows pull together. He looks genuinely concerned, like his brain finally realized that you're having feelings. @@.luke;"Then what's wrong?"@@ You hesitate. It's not like you're hiding it on purpose, no. But admitting it is scary and makes the whole thing feel real. But Luke is your best friend and he's looking at you like you're the only important thing in the world. So you sigh and start talking. @@.player;"I'm just nervous,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"About auditions today, for //Romeo and Juliet//. You know, since I'm in theater. What if I do bad? What if I get a role that sucks? What if I don't get anything and Mr. Bennet pulls me aside to tell me there's nothing he can do for me?"@@ Luke's face softens. He slows his walking to watch your pace, almost as if he's trying to physically share the weight of it with you. @@.luke;"Oh,"@@ he says quietly. @@.luke;"Dude."@@ @@.player;"It's dumb,"@@ you say, shrugging like it's whatever. @@.player;"Trust me, I know it's dumb."@@ @@.luke;"It's not dumb,"@@ Luke says right away, like it's that obvious to him. You glance away, because his sincerity makes your throat feel weird. @@.player;"I don't know. Maybe I'm not cut out for it. Maybe I should just... be a tree. Or work backstage. Like, you know. Props. Lighting. I could be the person who holds the ladder. That's my calling. Ladder guy."@@ Luke gets quiet, which is already alarming, because Luke's natural state is talking. He looks ahead for a second, like he's searching for the right words. Then he says, very calmly, @@.luke;"I don't think you should audition because you want a good role. You should audition to show how you've grown in acting and to be brave in front of people."@@ You blink. Luke keeps going, voice gentle. @@.luke;"Even if you end up as, like, Background Dancer #4 or something, that doesn't mean you failed. You showed up, and showing up is the whole thing. Also, you're not doing this alone. You have people with you there that are just as nervous as you. And even though you're scared, even though you're worried, you still walked out your door today. You still came here and said you'd give it a shot."@@ Your mouth opens, then closes, because your brain is buffering again. Luke shrugs, like he's not even aware what he said hit you right in the chest. @@.luke;"And like, yeah, maybe you //could// end up as a tree,"@@ he adds. @@.luke;"But that's just a role you're playing. In the end, you'd still be $name. My best friend who made an effort to show up and do his best. And I think that's what truly matters."@@ You stare at him. Luke blinks back at you, his face silly, completely back in normal Luke mode. @@.luke;"...Anyway,"@@ he says, @@.luke;"Bruno also hates squirrels. Like, I'm telling you, he has beef with squirrels. It's personal, too. Maybe he fought with a squirrel before we adopted him. Like if he sees a squirrel he's like BARK BARK BARK BARK–"@@ @@.player;"Luke,"@@ you interrupt. @@.player;"What was that?"@@ Luke frowns. @@.luke;"What was what?"@@ @@.player;"That whole... speech,"@@ you say, gesturing vaguely at the air. @@.player;"You just said something super wise. Like... weirdly wise."@@ Luke's eyes widen. @@.luke;"I did?"@@ @@.player;"Yes!"@@ you say, still shocked. @@.player;"You sounded like... like a mentor. Like a wise karate master in a coming-of-age story."@@ @@.luke;"Oh,"@@ Luke says, looking startled. @@.luke;"Uh. That's cool, I guess."@@ You narrow your eyes. @@.player;"I think you got possessed by a wise ghost, man."@@ Luke's face lights up. @@.luke;"WAIT. That would be sick. Like a theater ghost, maybe. Maybe Shakespeare himself."@@ @@.player;"Shakespeare would not possess you,"@@ you say immediately. @@.player;"He would take one look at you and go back to being dead."@@ @@.luke;"That's mean!"@@ Luke exclaims, gasping. @@.luke;"Also, he totally would. He'd know I'm a pure soul with no thoughts. A perfect place to rest."@@ You finally laugh for real, and it loosens something in your chest. The knot is still there, but it's no longer strangling you. You pick up the pace, shoulders a little less tense. @@.luke;"See?"@@ Luke says, grinning at you like he won. @@.luke;"You're talking again."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you mumble, smiling. @@.player;"Unfortunately."@@ Luke bumps your shoulder playfully. @@.luke;"Don't worry. If you freeze during auditions, I'll stop Samantha from taking photos to make fun of you."@@ @@.player;"The auditions aren't open to other students,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"Darn it."@@ You roll your eyes, but you're smiling as you both head down the street toward school. <<button "To school you go" "Day 24 - 3">><</button>>

Mr. Bennet takes a quick glance at his notes again, tapping the page with two fingers. @@.boy;"Alright, this section,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"This is one of my favorite parts of the scene, because it tells me whether you actually understand what Juliet is doing or whether you're just repeating what she's saying."@@ <<if $d24pduoaudition2 is 0>>\ @@.boy;"Your choice worked,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, nodding. @@.boy;"You made Juliet sound like she was just making stuff up. And, well, Juliet //is// making stuff up. She's weaving a story together in her head to make Romeo stay."@@ He suddenly holds up a hand. @@.boy;"But, if you play it as pure nonsense, you risk making Juliet less than what she is."@@ @@.boy;"Juliet is a very capable, smart young lady. She's making up a fantasy about a meteor, sure, but that's not because she's dumb. She's just //playing// dumb because she's willing to do anything to keep Romeo for one more minute. It's out of love."@@ He gestures toward you. @@.boy;"So to level that choice up, let her intelligence show. Let us see that she knows what she's doing, but does it anyway because she's desperate."@@ @@.boy;"But the direction you took is not a bad one,"@@ Mr. Bennet finishes, nodding. @@.boy;"Just make it sharper and give her a little more agency."@@ <<elseif $d24pduoaudition2 is 1>>\ @@.boy;"Excellent choice,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, face brightening. @@.boy;"You acted it like Juliet was playing dumb, which is exactly what's happening."@@ He taps the page. @@.boy;"Juliet is absolutely smart enough to know it's morning. She's not confused about the light, nor does she think it's from a meteor. She's just delaying the inevitable, because the inevitable is Romeo leaving."@@ @@.boy;"What I think you did well, $name, was channeling Juliet's charm,"@@ Mr. Bennet states. @@.boy;"You looked smug, you seemed teasing, and your smirks fit the moment. It's hard to make these expressions on a whim."@@ @@.boy;"You showed affection and sadness at the same time, which is the secret sauce this scene needs to succeed. If it's only playful, the stakes evaporate. If it's only sad, the intimacy collapses. You had both, which is very impressive."@@ @@.boy;"Keep doing what you did for this scene,"@@ Mr. Bennet finishes, nodding. @@.boy;"I believe you portrayed Juliet sublimely."@@ <<elseif $d24pduoaudition2 is 2>>\ Mr. Bennet seems... kind of puzzled, like he's trying to understand your logic. @@.boy;"But $name, your choice confused me,"@@ he says slowly. @@.boy;"You played the writing at face value. Like Juliet truly believes the daylight is a meteor."@@ He shakes his head. @@.boy;"I don't believe Juliet believes that. Juliet is very smart. She's not suddenly a child who thinks the sun exhaled a meteor to guide Romeo."@@ @@.boy;"The poetry is metaphor, you see,"@@ Mr. Bennet explains. @@.boy;"It's her reaching for an excuse. She's inventing a story on purpose, because if she admits that it's morning, she has to let him go."@@ He looks at you seriously. @@.boy;"So next time, make sure to remember that it's a lie. Show that she's just playing dumb, not actually dumb."@@ @@.boy;"That adjustment would immediately make the scene stronger,"@@ Mr. Bennet finishes. <</if>> <<button "Dumbthan and Dumbliet" "Day 24 - 21">><</button>>

Mr. Bennet moves to the next chunk of the scene. @@.boy;"Alright, now this section is important,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"This is the pivot where Juliet finally admits it's morning and pushes him to go."@@ @@.boy;"This is the most important part of the paired reading for the one playing Juliet,"@@ he says, looking directly at you. @@.boy;"This is where Juliet's love turns into action."@@ <<if $d24pduoaudition3 is 0>>\ @@.boy;"But the way you played it, $name, wasn't really it,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, sounding disappointed. You took the scene somewhere he didn't want you to. @@.boy;"Juliet is not angry at Romeo. Not here, not now."@@ @@.boy;"If Juliet snaps at Romeo, the scene turns into conflict between //them//,"@@ Mr. Bennet explains. @@.boy;"But that's not really what's happening. The conflict is more between them and the world. Between love and consequence."@@ He gestures outward. @@.boy;"Her frustration, if you decide to play it that way, belongs somewhere else. Maybe on fate, or on the sunrise, or on the light that just keeps growing. Not on her love, Romeo."@@ @@.boy;"So, if you want to add some sharpness to this section, aim it where it belongs. She's trying to save him, not get him killed."@@ @@.boy;"I get what you were trying to do, but you just focused on the wrong target,"@@ Mr. Bennet finishes. <<elseif $d24pduoaudition3 is 1>>\ @@.boy;"That was a pretty good direction,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, humming with approval. @@.boy;"You captured the heartbreak. You made Juliet truly feel like someone who's losing something near and dear to her."@@ He lifts a hand and makes a motion, as if turning a dial slightly. @@.boy;"My only note is that you played her a bit too quiet and somber all the way through."@@ @@.boy;"When Juliet talks about the lark being out of tune, she has some bite there. Not cruelty, but a spark of anger toward the world. She hates this bird not because the bird is bad, but because it represents separation. She's allowed to be sharp about it."@@ He looks back to you, tone warm. @@.boy;"So keep the heartbreak, absolutely. It's very true to her character. But let a little heat through, especially in the section I just mentioned. It's not just sadness, it's also grief."@@ @@.boy;"Really solid foundation, $name,"@@ Mr. Bennet finishes, smiling. @@.boy;"Just give her a touch more life."@@ <<elseif $d24pduoaudition3 is 2>>\ Mr. Bennet's face opens into a pleased smile, like he's been waiting to say this. @@.boy;"When I imagine Juliet in this scene, $name, this is exactly what I imagine,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"Juliet wants Romeo to stay so badly. She tries to bargain and play her little games. Why? Because she's in love."@@ Then his voice suddenly softens. @@.boy;"But when Romeo says he'll stay, she realizes there's something she wants even more than that. She wants him to stay alive, and she wants him to stay safe."@@ He looks right at you. @@.boy;"So she makes the hardest choice, which is to let him go. Not because she stops wanting him, but because she loves him enough to choose his safety over her own feelings."@@ @@.boy;"And the way you played it showed that conflict,"@@ Mr. Benent says, sounding proud of himself. @@.boy;"I loved seeing how you portrayed the urgency that comes from care, rather than anger. That is Juliet, and that is Act 3 Scene 5."@@ @@.boy;"Exellent work,"@@ he finishes, satisfied. <</if>>\ <<button "Mr. Bennet is all done!" "Day 24 - 22">><</button>>

@@.boy;"Alright, that's all I'll say for $name right now,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, lowering his notes and giving you a smile. @@.boy;"Thank you again."@@ He then turns to Jordan, full of energy. Mr. Bennet seems... actually excited to talk about what he just saw. @@.boy;"Jordan, that was stellar,"@@ he begins. @@.boy;"I can really tell you've been practicing."@@ You can see Jordan actually smile at that. He seems just as delighted as Mr. Bennet, if not more. You don't think you've seen him that happy, especially in class. @@.boy;"I loved the performance,"@@ your theater teacher continues. @@.boy;"You knew what you were saying and why you were saying it. That's huge, especially with Romeo. I've been teaching high school theater for a while, and I've seen many robotic Romeos and many melodramatic Romeos."@@ A couple of students quietly laugh at that. Some others seem scared, realizing that they //are// the robotic Romeos. Jordan lets out a small chuckle at the line. Mr. Bennet gestures at the two of you. @@.boy;"And Jordan, you listened. You played with your partner. That's the whole point of this exercise, isn't it? You didn't just wait for your turn. You responded and adjusted and made space on the fly for $name. That's acting! That's the thing most people don't understand until much later."@@ Jordan lets out a shaky exhale, as if the tension that's been coiling in him all day is finally unwinding. @@.boy;"There were moments where I truly felt like you understood Romeo's heart,"@@ Mr. Bennet states, smile widening. @@.boy;"Not to mention your expressions, line delivery, movement, all of that, were sublime."@@ @@.boy;"Keep doing exactly what you're doing, my boy. Whatever you did to prepare? Keep doing it."@@ Jordan looks down briefly. You glance over, and the guy's actually blushing. The praise landed, and it landed hard. @@.jordan;"Thank you,"@@ Jordan says, looking back up. He pretends to be calm, but you can hear his voice crack just the tiniest bit. Mr. Bennet turns toward his list again, ready to keep the audition train moving. @@.boy;"Alright! Next pair–"@@ Before he can continue speaking, Principal Zhang steps forward from the back of the room. You didn't even notice him getting up. He's quiet with it, and it seems like he's been waiting for the right moment to insert himself without looking like he's interrupting. @@.zhang;"Mr. Bennet,"@@ the principal says, voice pleasant. @@.zhang;"May I have a word with you? Just a quick chat outside."@@ Your stomach drops. From what you've seen, Zhang is only this polite when he has nothing good to say. @@.boy;"Oh, sure,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, sounding surprised. @@.boy;"Right now?"@@ @@.zhang;"Yes,"@@ the principal says, a cold smile on his face. @@.zhang;"If you have a moment."@@ Mr. Bennet looks at the class, then at his notes, then back at the principal. The man is clearly confused, but he doesn't look alarmed. He's just wondering what this could possibly be about. @@.boy;"Alright,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, sweeping his scarf up. He turns to the class and lifts both of his hands. @@.boy;"Well! It looks like you all just got a lucky break. Take a minute to hydrate and practice. Try not to combust, alright? Thank you, my dear thespians."@@ A few nervous laughs ripple through the room. Mr. Bennet gives one last glance at his papers before heading toward the exit with Principal Zhang. They walk out of the classroom, the door closing behind them. @@.girl;"What was that about?"@@ a girl whispers. She gets shushed immediately. Everyone decides to simply play it safe, just reading over their lines one last time. You and Jordan move, not wanting to be standing in the middle of the damn stage. The back of the auditorium is open, and those darker seats feel safer than the ones in the front. You both slide into the back row, not even really talking at first, just letting your heart rate settle after the performance. The seats are pretty comfy, made of foam padding instead of hard plastic. But then you hear muffled voices. Not anything clear, you can't make out a single word, but you can hear the sound coming through the door. You can't make out what they're saying from here, but the tone implies that it's not simply congratulations. @@.jordan;"If we were closer, we could probably hear,"@@ Jordan mutters. You swallow. The idea is risky, sure, but you are pretty curious. @@.jordan;"Do you want to get closer?"@@ Jordan asks. <<button "Get close to the door" "Day 24 - 23">>\<<set $d24door to true>>\<<trackChoice "D24_door" "Get close to the door" "story">><</button>> <<button "Play it safe" "Day 24 - 23">>\<<set $d24door to false>>\<<trackChoice "D24_door" "Play it safe" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d24door is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24Eavesdrop">>\ You don't answer Jordan out loud, instead opting to just nod once. Then you both move. You slip out of the back row and start quietly sneaking toward the door. Your shoes barely squeak, and your breathing is barely audible. The closer you get to the door, the clearer the muffled voices become. At first, you can only make out the tone. But suddenly you're close enough that words begin to form. You stop near the corner by the doorframe. Jordan stands behind you and slightly to the left, looking out. Your heart thuds hard, like it's warning you not to do this. @@.zhang;"–and I'm asking you, Mr. Bennet, why you allowed $name to read Juliet when he is a male student,"@@ Principal Zhang says, voice smooth as ever. Your stomach drops. He is talking about you after all. @@.zhang;"This is not the first time this issue has come up,"@@ Zhang continues. @@.zhang;"I spoke with you over a week ago. Do you remember what I said then? I explicitly told you to report to me if incidents like this came up."@@ Mr. Bennet's reply is quick, but it isn't in his usual tone. There's no playful lilt, no theatrical sparkle. His voice is clipped and controlled, like an adult. @@.boy;"I do remember our conversation, yes,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"And I remember thinking it was inappropriate then, as well."@@ The principal's tone stays mild. @@.zhang;"Inappropriate? You are mistaken, Mr. Bennet. Administrative observation is a standard response when there are ongoing concerns."@@ Mr. Bennet scoffs. @@.boy;"Concerns about what, exactly? He showed up to class, having practiced his materials, and performed his audition."@@ @@.zhang;"You know what I mean,"@@ Zhang says, refusing to rise to the bait. @@.boy;"I don't,"@@ Mr. Bennet says sharply. @@.boy;"Do explain it to me."@@ There's a pause as Zhang thinks about how to phrase it. Then he says, carefully, @@.zhang;"There has been a pattern of behavioral and appearance issues with Mr. Yoon. It is a big issue. A number of parents raised concerns with me."@@ @@.boy;"So you're monitoring a student's appearance,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, voice hardening. @@.zhang;"I am simply monitoring patterns that indicate disruption,"@@ Zhang says, voice staying polite. @@.zhang;"From this point on, $name's teachers are meant to submit behavioral and appearance notes directly to me. Everything goes in his files. Tardies, dress code violations, classroom disruptions, all of it."@@ Mr. Bennet cuts in, @@.boy;"That's not what theater is."@@ @@.zhang;"Your theater class does not exist in a vacuum,"@@ the principal replies evenly. @@.zhang;"School policy still exists."@@ Mr. Bennet takes a deep breath, like he's choosing his next words very carefully so he doesn't explode. @@.boy;"Principal Zhang, I don't know if you noticed this, but my class has an uneven gender ratio. We have a few more boys than girls. That has been true for years. Paired readings require partners, and there needs to be a Juliet. The work requires flexibility."@@ @@.zhang;"Flexibility is not the issue."@@ @@.boy;"Then what is?"@@ Another long pause. Zhang says, very calmly, @@.zhang;"You are placing a male student in a female role in front of other students. You are encouraging a presentation that is... rather confusing. It becomes disruptive."@@ You feel heat crawl up your neck, your hands clenching. Mr. Bennet's response comes out colder than you've ever heard it before. @@.boy;"So your concern isn't disruption. Your concern is that a student is being feminine."@@ Zhang doesn't deny it, which is an answer in its own right. @@.zhang;"My concern is that we are responsible for maintaining an appropriate learning environment. That is both my job as principal and your job as teacher, Arthur."@@ Mr. Bennet snaps back. @@.boy;"And you think the appropriate learning environment is threatened by a boy reading Juliet for five minutes? I think the learning environment was more harmed by you taking me out of my class."@@ @@.zhang;"I think you are being deliberately obtuse,"@@ Principal Zhang says, an edge in his voice now. @@.boy;"No, no, no,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"I think you're being deliberately discriminatory."@@ Mr. Bennet takes a second to breathe in deep and exhale out before speaking again. @@.boy;"This is theater,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"It's a place to show who one can become on stage. And I believe one can become anyone they want on stage."@@ @@.zhang;"But you chose to put $name in as Juliet,"@@ Zhang says. Mr. Bennet doesn't back down. @@.boy;"Because the scene required it. Because the work required it. Because the student was prepared. The student was paired with a partner and assigned a character. That is how auditions work, Raymond."@@ Zhang replies, @@.zhang;"You could have rearranged the pairings."@@ Mr. Bennet's voice rises. @@.boy;"And single him out? You want me to stop class, rearrange the whole structure I thought out for hours, and announce that $name must not read Juliet? And for what reason? Because you're worried people might think he's transgender?"@@ Jordan's hand twitches behind you like he wants to pull you back. But you don't move. You can't, really. @@.zhang;"Do ''not'' put words in my mouth, Arthur,"@@ Zhang says, voice very still. @@.boy;"Then put them in your own mouth, Raymond,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"I'm just saying exactly what this is."@@ Zhang turns even colder. @@.zhang;"Mr. Bennet. I am advising you to exercise better judgment."@@ @@.boy;"Principal Zhang, I am advising you to stop targeting a student,"@@ Mr. Bennet responds. Zhang lets out an exhale, disappointed in a subordinate. @@.zhang;"You are an employee of this school. You are not free to do whatever you please."@@ @@.boy;"And you are the principal of this school,"@@ Mr. Bennet replies. @@.boy;"Your job is not to target students for expressing themselves how they want."@@ @@.zhang;"You're passionate, aren't you?"@@ Zhang speaks, tone gentle. @@.zhang;"I appreciate that passion. But you need to remember who you work for."@@ @@.boy;"I remember exactly who I work for,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"I work for the students, giving them the best education I can give."@@ @@.zhang;"You work for the administration,"@@ Zhang corrects, friendliness thinning out. @@.boy;"I work within an administration, yes, but I do not work for prejudice."@@ @@.zhang;"You have a job because this school allows you to have one,"@@ Principal Zhang says, voice razor sharp. Mr. Bennet's voice stays steady, but you can hear anger under it. @@.boy;"Are you threatening my job because I let a student read a role?"@@ @@.zhang;"I'm simply reminding you of reality,"@@ Zhang answers. @@.zhang;"Many people would love your position. The arts are not exactly overflowing with stable employment. It would be a shame for your... choices... to create complications."@@ Mr. Bennet goes quiet for half a second. But when he finally speaks, it's calm in a way that's scarier than yelling. @@.boy;"My choice was to teach,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"My choice was to run a fair audition. My choice was to assign characters based on who fit best, not on the principal's personal discomfort."@@ @@.zhang;"You're being dramatic,"@@ Zhang states. @@.boy;"Of course I am, I //teach// drama,"@@ Mr. Bennet answers. @@.boy;"But this? This is ''not'' drama. This is you deciding that a student's gender expression is an issue worthy of discipline."@@ @@.zhang;"His appearance has raised concerns across multiple individuals."@@ @@.boy;"Do all of those concerns boil down to someone not fitting your idea of what a boy should look like?"@@ @@.zhang;"You are not qualified to make policy decisions."@@ @@.boy;"And you are not qualified to use policy to bully children."@@ That lands hard. @@.zhang;"This is your warning,"@@ Zhang says carefully. @@.zhang;"You ''will'' submit your weekly notes. You ''will'' keep auditions appropriate. And most of all, you ''will'' stop making this into something it isn't."@@ @@.boy;"No, I'll only submit notes if there are notes worth submitting,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, unflinching. @@.boy;"But I will not police a student's identity for you. And I will not 'keep auditions appropriate' by excluding him from roles he's more than capable of performing."@@ @@.zhang;"You are making a mistake,"@@ Zhang warns. @@.boy;"I am making a choice, principal,"@@ Mr. Bennet replies. @@.boy;"There's a big difference."@@ There's movement, footsteps, to be precise. Zhang is done. But before he leaves, he decides to say one last thing. @@.zhang;"Remember, I am the one who evaluates your performance,"@@ Zhang says. @@.boy;"I can recognize intimidation when I see it, sir,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, the word "sir" full of venom. Principal Zhang's footsteps move away down the hall. Mr. Bennet lets out a long, tired breath. It's clear that he's been holding his temper in with every fiber of his being. Jordan tugs lightly at your sleeve. You retreat with him instantly, slipping back from the door and making your way back to your seats, heart racing. A few seconds later, the door opens again. Mr. Bennet walks in alone. His face is composed, his demeanor is back to usual, but you can see the tension around his eyes. He puts a bright expression on like a mask. @@.boy;"Alright, my dear students!"@@ he says, clapping once. @@.boy;"Where were we?"@@ You and Jordan don't look at each other, but you can tell what he's thinking. Mr. Bennet stood up for you. <<elseif $d24door is false>>\ You stare at the door a little longer, heart still thumping from everything that just happened. The muffled voices on the other side rise and fall, close enough to tempt you. You're curious, but you can already guess what it's about. Hearing it would only make it heavier. And eventually, you say, @@.player;"No."@@ @@.jordan;"No?"@@ Jordan asks. @@.player;"No,"@@ you repeat. @@.player;"I don't //want// to. If it's bad, I don't want it stuck in my head for the rest of the day."@@ @@.jordan;"Alright,"@@ Jordan says, nodding. @@.jordan;"That's fair."@@ You both sit there, waiting in the comfy auditorium seats. The door stays closed and the voices remain muffled. You try not to pay too much attention. After a minute or two, the door finally opens. Mr. Bennet walks in, but he's alone this time. @@.boy;"Alright, my dear students!"@@ he says, clapping once. @@.boy;"Where were we?"@@ You sit up a little straighter, but you notice Mr. Bennet sneaking a quick glance at you before continuing auditions. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - 24">><</button>>

<<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ The remaining auditions fly by. It's the same every time. A pair goes up. Someone forgets a line or a movement, but recovers. Someone nails a moment. Everyone claps when it ends. Mr. Bennet gives his feedback. The next pair gets called up. Rinse and repeat. You sit through it all while in shock. You're relieved you finished your auditions, but the nervousness hasn't left your system yet. Sometimes, you think that a performance was pretty good after a group finishes. Sometimes, you're just glad you actually bothered to memorize your lines. Either way, people slowly get more nervous as names get crossed off the list. Finally, the last pair finishes right before class ends. Everyone claps. A few people let out shaky laughs, glad they survived this. Mr. Bennet steps forward and beams. @@.boy;"Alright, my precious young actors,"@@ he announces, voice bright. @@.boy;"That's it. We made it."@@ @@.girl;"Oh my God,"@@ a girl whispers, like she can't believe she's still alive. @@.boy;"I just want to say that I am genuinely so proud of you all,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, delighted. @@.boy;"Auditions are vulnerable and scary, I know. But you all showed up and did it anyway! You took risks and made choices. Every single one of you was brave. Yes, even the ones who looked like they wanted to shrivel up."@@ Noelle shifts, feeling seen. @@.boy;"I'm going to take the weekend to eat some good food, watch some TV, and oh! Look over my notes, of course."@@ A couple people laugh. @@.boy;"But on Monday next week, I will announce the cast list and your roles,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"We will start rehearsals immediately. I know you're all going to try and figure out early, but you won't be getting anything from me. I will ''not'' be bribed. Even if you bring homemade chocolate chip cookies."@@ @@.girl;"It was worth a try,"@@ someone mutters. @@.boy;"I heard that!"@@ Mr. Bennet says, grinning. @@.boy;"I respect the hustle, though."@@ He lifts his hands. @@.boy;"For now, you can all chill until the bell. Talk a little, take some deep breaths, and be human again. Just don't start fighting, alright?"@@ People finally start acting normal again. People move toward their friends, starting to chat and laugh. The room is giddy now that they don't have to worry anymore. You slide down in your seat, your spine having fully given up. Jordan and Noelle drift toward you pretty naturally, the trio holding. @@.noelle;"I can't believe it's over,"@@ Noelle says, hands shaking. @@.jordan;"Yeah, it's over,"@@ Jordan huffs. @@.player;"That was way too stressful,"@@ you say, your heart rate higher than usual. @@.noelle;"I was in front of everyone as Juliet!"@@ Noelle exclaims. @@.noelle;"It was so, ''so'' scary."@@ @@.jordan;"Yet we all survived,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. @@.jordan;"We're all done. Until the next play, that is."@@ @@.noelle;"Do ''not'' say that,"@@ Noelle says. Jordan shrugs. @@.jordan;"It's the truth."@@ The three of you just sit there, letting it sink in. The scary thing happened, yet the world didn't end. @@.noelle;"I thought I was going to pass out on stage,"@@ Noelle says, hands calming down. @@.player;"But you didn't,"@@ you say. She giggles. @@.noelle;"Barely."@@ @@.jordan;"It got better for me once I was actually doing it,"@@ Jordan says. Noelle lets out a soft laugh. @@.noelle;"I wish my brain did that. I got even more nervous."@@ @@.jordan;"I'm sure it eventually will,"@@ Jordan reassures. @@.player;"I watched you, and you did really well,"@@ you tell Noelle. Noelle's cheeks go pink. She looks down, embarrassed. @@.noelle;"Thanks."@@ The chatter around the room is getting louder as the time ticks down. People are already talking about who they think will get what role, who did good, who did bad, who forgot and ended up skipping over a line. Then the bell rings, giving everyone permission to leave. Everyone stands at once. Everyone starts rushing toward the door, having remembered they have lives outside this room. You stand too, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. Jordan and Noelle do the same. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Let's get out of here."@@ @@.noelle;"Yes please,"@@ Noelle says. Jordan stretches his arms. @@.jordan;"Yeah, I have to get to practice."@@ You all head toward the door, and for a second it feels nice. Auditions are done, the air is lighter, school is over. You can relax now. But then you hear Mr. Bennet's voice. @@.boy;"$name, could you stay behind for a second?"@@ Fuck. @@.player;"Uh, yeah,"@@ you say, stopping. Jordan gives you a face that seems to say "good luck." Noelle, on the other hand, looks confused, her expression concerned. @@.player;"It's fine,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"I'll catch you guys later, alright?"@@ @@.jordan;"Okay, then,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Hope it's nothing bad."@@ @@.noelle;"You can text me after... but only if you want to!"@@ Noelle says. They leave with the rest of the class, disappearing into the hallway. Mr. Bennet doesn't say anything yet. He just waits, watching the door. Only when the room empties completely, the last footsteps fading, does Mr. Bennet turn back toward you. <<button "What does tha Bennet have to say?" "Day 24 - 25">><</button>>

<<set $bennetpoints to 0>>\ Mr. Bennet doesn't keep the bright energy once the room is empty. It drops off him like the way a costume drops when the show ends. His face suddenly looks older in a way you never quite noticed before. He gets a little closer to you, closing the distance just enough to make it feel like a real conversation. @@.boy;"Hey,"@@ he says quietly. @@.boy;"You okay?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you lie. @@.player;"I'm... okay."@@ @@.boy;"Alright,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, nodding. He knows you're lying, but he's not going to push the issue. @@.boy;"I asked you to stay because of what happened after Principal Zhang pulled me aside during auditions."@@ @@.player;"What did you talk about?"@@ you say, already knowing the answer. @@.boy;"About you, $name,"@@ Mr. Bennet admits. @@.player;"Of course it is,"@@ you say, letting out a dry laugh. @@.boy;"You already know this, but teachers are indeed being asked to submit weekly notes,"@@ Mr. Bennet begins. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm under administrative observation,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"That's what he's calling it,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"He told me that I'm expected to report. Behavior, appearance, anything he decides matters. He was particularly interested today, because you read Juliet."@@ @@.player;"But I didn't even choose it,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You paired us and... well..."@@ @@.boy;"I know I did,"@@ Mr. Bennet says firmly. @@.boy;"And to be clear, I stand by that decision."@@ You swallow and manage, @@.player;"What did he say?"@@ Mr. Bennet hesitates. Not because he's protecting the principal, but because he's protecting you. He doesn't want to drop something this heavy on you like a brick. @@.boy;"Well, he questioned why I 'allowed' it,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"And he implied that it could be seen as inappropriate."@@ @@.player;"It's just Shakespeare,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"Indeed,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, expression flashing with irritation. @@.boy;"It is Shakespeare and it is theater. And, historically speaking, it is ''very'' ironic in ways he doesn't seem interested in understanding."@@ He exhales, reining himself back in. @@.boy;"But $name... I need you to know something. This puts me in a difficult position as a teacher."@@ @@.player;"Because you have to report stuff?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"Because I have responsibilities both to my students and to my job, and those are colliding,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"And if this has //me// thinking this hard, I can only imagine how much harder it is for you. Walking around every day knowing someone is looking for reasons to hurt you."@@ @@.player;"It's... fun,"@@ you say, joke slipping out. Mr. Bennet gives you a sad look, like he's telling you not to act like that. @@.player;"Yeah, it really sucks,"@@ you correct. @@.boy;"$name, I want you to hear the words I'm about to say very clearly,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, tone turning soft. @@.boy;"You are a very good student. You're thoughtful. You contribute. You work and take direction. You're respectful to your classmates. You've been an absolute joy to teach."@@ He smiles genuinely. @@.boy;"And in this class, I've watched you grow. I've watched you get braver. I've watched you make stronger choices. I've watched you commit in ways you didn't at the start of the year. It's fantastic."@@ You feel your face warm. @@.boy;"I'm not saying that to butter you up,"@@ Mr. Bennet adds quickly. @@.boy;"I'm saying it because it's true. And I feel you need at least one adult in this building to actually act like one and say it out loud."@@ @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you whisper. He nods. @@.boy;"Of course. I //do// need to ask you something, though."@@ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, stomach tightening again. Mr. Bennet holds your gaze before he speaks. @@.boy;"What does theater mean to you?"@@ <<button "Theater means a chance to figure out who I am up there" "Day 24 - 26">>\<<set $d24bennetq1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D24_bennetq1" "Theater means a chance to figure out who I am up there" "story">><</button>> <<button "Theater's just a fun elective" "Day 24 - 26">>\<<set $d24bennetq1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D24_bennetq1" "Theater's just a fun elective" "story">><</button>> <<button "Theater means a free A and a GPA boost" "Day 24 - 26">>\<<set $d24bennetq1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D24_bennetq1" "Theater means a free A and a GPA boost" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d24bennetq1 is 0>>\ <<set $bennetpoints += 2>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender + 3, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You swallow once, forcing yourself to look at Mr. Bennet instead of the floor. @@.player;"Theater means a chance to figure out who I am,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's easier up on stage."@@ The words come out shaky. As soon as you say them, you feel nervous. It sounds dramatic and way too personal, but you can't deny that it's true. Mr. Bennet decides not to interrupt. He just watches you, knowing that this answer might take a second to form. @@.player;"I feel like when I'm in the audience I'm just me. And me is..."@@ You gesture at yourself. You're not sure what exactly you're gesturing at. Maybe your body, or your life, or even your mind. @@.player;"Me is complicated."@@ Mr. Bennet makes a soft noise of understanding, expression soft. @@.player;"But on stage, I have the permission to try things,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"I can be different versions of myself without everyone questioning what it means."@@ @@.player;"Sometimes I do a line a certain way and it feels... right,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Not like I'm pretending, but more like I'm finally not fighting my own skin."@@ You didn't mean to say the last part. It surprised even you that it managed to slip out. You didn't mean to do that. Mr. Bennet stays very still, listening with seriousness. @@.player;"I don't mean, like, I'm not saying I want to be someone else!"@@ you say, rushing to clarity. You take a deep breath before continuing. @@.player;"I don't always feel like myself. And in theater, sometimes I do."@@ @@.boy;"That makes sense, $name,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, nodding. @@.player;"It does?"@@ you ask, staring at him. @@.boy;"It does,"@@ he says again, gentle. @@.boy;"Theater can be a mirror, a mask, or a door. Sometimes all three. Sometimes none."@@ @@.player;"That's very wise of you,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.boy;"It's really not,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, smiling. @@.boy;"But thank you for telling me that,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, tone turning careful. @@.boy;"I'm glad you have a place where you can explore without being punished for that."@@ @@.player;"Yeah. I guess that's what theater means for me."@@ @@.boy;"That helps me understand what's at stake for you,"@@ Mr. Bennet says softly. And then you realize he wasn't asking out of curiosity. He was asking because he wanted to know what part of you he had to protect. <<elseif $d24bennetq1 is 1>>\ <<set $bennetpoints += 1>>\ You shrug, keeping it simple. @@.player;"Theater's just a fun elective,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Like, I'm not trying to be on Broadway or anything like that. I just... like being here."@@ Mr. Bennet nods, not offended in the least. If anything, he seems relieved that you're being honest instead of saying what you think he wants to hear. @@.boy;"That's alright."@@ @@.player;"It's very different from my other classes,"@@ you add. @@.player;"People are super loud, in a good way. And you can be embarrassing without it screwing over your social life. If anything, you're //expected// to be embarrassing."@@ Mr. Bennet lets out an honest laugh. @@.boy;"Yes, yes. Theater gives you permission to be a little ridiculous."@@ @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say, grateful he gets it. @@.player;"And it's fun, too. Even when it's stressful, it's still fun. I like all the energy and having something to do other than sitting down and writing notes."@@ @@.boy;"Not everyone falls in love with theater the same way,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, nodding. @@.boy;"Some students want to make a career out of it, some students want to keep it a hobby, and some students just want one class where they can breathe."@@ @@.player;"The last one is me,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"And that's perfectly good,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, smiling. @@.player;"Is that... okay?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"I feel like you were expecting something deeper."@@ Mr. Bennet shakes his head. @@.boy;"'Fun' is not a shallow answer, $name. Fun matters. Joy matters. What would life be without any fun? Your answer was simple, but that doesn't mean it wasn't deep."@@ @@.player;"I guess you're right,"@@ you mutter, relaxing a little. You didn't give some dramatic speech about the influence theater had on you, but you also didn't lie. And he seemed genuinely okay with that. <<elseif $d24bennetq1 is 2>>\ <<set $bennetpoints -= 2>>\ @@.player;"Well, to me, theater doesn't mean too much,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's a free A and a GPA boost. I needed a credit for arts anyway, and this looks good on my resume."@@ Silence follows. Mr. Bennet doesn't look angry or even offended. He just seems.. a little sad and deflated, like someone poked a hole in him and the air is leaking out. @@.boy;"Oh, well, I appreciate the honesty,"@@ Mr. Bennet says slowly. @@.player;"I'm not saying I hate it!"@@ you say, immediately feeling weirdly guilty. @@.player;"I like it fine. It's just... not a priority to me."@@ @@.boy;"I know theater isn't for everyone, $name,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"But hearing you reduce my class, a place that could be a place of expression and courage and connection, down to 'this helps my transcript.' Well, it is disappointing."@@ He stops himself there, but you can still feel the awkwardness. @@.player;"I'm sorry,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"You don't need to apologize to me,"@@ Mr. Bennet states, voice kind. @@.boy;"I'm not hurt on my own behalf. I've taught theater for a very long time, there have been plenty of people just here to fill the credit and leave. But I'm hurt on your behalf, because I think you deserve to have the community and support this class //could// provide."@@ That hits harder than a scolding would've. @@.boy;"But thank you for telling me the truth,"@@ Mr. Bennet finishes softly. Although he didn't yell, you can tell that answer changed something in him. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - 27">><</button>>

@@.boy;"I also need to talk to you about Juliet,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. You blink. @@.player;"Juliet?"@@ @@.boy;"Yes,"@@ he says, nodding. @@.boy;"Not about the character, but about the role. What it means in this play."@@ @@.player;"I didn't ask for it,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"I didn't... today was just paired readings. It wasn't–"@@ @@.boy;"I know,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, cutting you off. @@.boy;"I know you didn't ask for anything today. You were assigned and just did the work you were given."@@ He pauses, then adds, @@.boy;"But auditions are auditions. We're not just testing whether you can memorize lines. Anyone can do that. We're seeing who can truly embody a role. And you need to understand that if you're interested in Juliet, if you //want// it, then you will become very noticeable indeed."@@ @@.player;"Noticeable how?"@@ you swallow. Mr. Bennet's expression gets sympathetic. @@.boy;"Noticeable in a way that could make life very difficult for you."@@ @@.boy;"In a normal world, in the world you deserve to live in, a student reading across gender in Shakespeare isn't a scandal,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"Theater people would think of it as a bold, interesting choice. Most of the audience wouldn't care."@@ He pauses. @@.boy;"But we are not in that kind of world, especially here."@@ @@.player;"Because of the principal,"@@ you murmur, nervous. Mr. Bennet nods. @@.boy;"Because of Principal Zhang's nonsense, it makes things very difficult. He's decided that your presentation is something that needs to be corrected."@@ @@.player;"So am I just supposed to avoid anything that makes him mad?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"No,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, voice sharp. Not at you, of course, but by the fact that you even have to ask that. @@.boy;"I hate that you even have to think like that. It's horrible."@@ He looks you directly in the eyes. @@.boy;"But I also can't pretend there isn't danger in visibility right now. There's danger of paperwork and discipline."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I know,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"I believe Juliet is the most famous female role in theater,"@@ Mr. Bennet continues. @@.boy;"It's iconic. There aren't many people who don't know Romeo and Juliet's tale. If a male student plays Juliet, whether you intend it or not, it becomes a statement."@@ @@.boy;"It's not fair, $name, I know,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, tone softening. @@.boy;"But it //is// true. People will talk and Principal Zhang will absolutely have something to say about it. So I need to make sure you understand what you're stepping into before you step into it."@@ @@.player;"I don't even want it to be a statement, though,"@@ you manage to say. @@.boy;"I understand, that is the hardest part,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"You don't get to control how other people frame it. You can only control your choices. But with the way the principal is watching you, it is quite dangerous. You're giving him something he can use."@@ @@.boy;"Do you understand the risk you're taking, $name?"@@ Mr. Bennet asks. <<button "I think I get it" "Day 24 - 28">>\<<set $d24bennetq2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D24_bennetq2" "I think I get it" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'll do whatever I want, I don't care" "Day 24 - 28">>\<<set $d24bennetq2 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D24_bennetq2" "I'll do whatever I want, I don't care" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'm well aware of the risks" "Day 24 - 28">>\<<set $d24bennetq2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D24_bennetq2" "I'm well aware of the risks" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d24bennetq2 is 0>>\ <<set $bennetpoints += 2>>\ @@.player;"Fortunately or unfortunately, I'm aware of the risks,"@@ you say. You're nervous, yes, but you know what's on the line. You know what Principal Zhang is looking for. @@.player;"I know that he's watching me and collecting things. He's looking for something to turn into a 'concern,' just to get me out."@@ Mr. Bennet nods. @@.boy;"Okay."@@ @@.player;"But, that's kind of the point,"@@ you add, slowly getting more confident. @@.player;"If I start choosing everything I do based on how he'll react, then I already let the principal win. Like, I'm not even doing anything wrong and I'd be living like I'm guilty."@@ Mr. Bennet looks oddly proud at that. @@.player;"And I really do care about theater,"@@ you say, swallowing. @@.player;"I care about the roles, I care about being good, I care about how it feels to be in this class."@@ You hesitate before finishing. @@.player;"If I'm right for a role, I don't //want// to throw that away just because someone has a problem with me."@@ @@.boy;"That's a strong answer, $name,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, sounding endeared by the backbone you're showing. @@.player;"I don't want to be reckless or make a statement or anything!"@@ you say quickly, just in case Mr. Bennet gets the wrong idea. @@.player;"I just don't want to be scared out of something I love."@@ @@.boy;"I can work with that,"@@ Mr. Bennet says quietly. @@.boy;"If you understand the risk and you're choosing to take it, then my job as a teacher is to support and protect you."@@ @@.player;"So... you don't think I'm being stupid?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"Not at all,"@@ he responds, shaking his head. @@.boy;"If anything, I think you're being brave. But bravery still needs strategy, and you understand that. If you're going to take the risk, then we'll take it intelligently."@@ <<elseif $d24bennetq2 is 1>>\ <<set $bennetpoints += 1>>\ @@.player;"I think I get it,"@@ you say quietly. @@.boy;"Tell me what you think you get,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. You swallow. @@.player;"I know that Zhang is out to get me. That he's looking for a reason, any reason, to get me out. If I do something that stands out too much, he'll use it."@@ Mr. Bennet frowns at the phrase "out to get me." It seems like he hates that a student has to describe their own principal in that way. But he doesn't say anything. @@.player;"And... yeah,"@@ you finish. @@.player;"That's basically it. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do, though."@@ @@.boy;"I understand,"@@ Mr. Bennet says softly. You look down, mustering up the courage to say the next part. After a few seconds, you look back up. @@.player;"It's not like I'm trying to be a problem. I'm just trying to get through school without being watched."@@ @@.boy;"I want to make sure you can do that,"@@ he says. @@.player;"So I do get that the principal will treat Juliet like evidence."@@ @@.boy;"He shouldn't, but he will."@@ Mr. Bennet says, anger behind his eyes. @@.boy;"I don't want you to shrink, $name. I don't want you to have to act differently just because of what Principal Zhang is doing."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you whisper. @@.boy;"Of course."@@ <<elseif $d24bennetq2 is 2>>\ <<set $bennetpoints -= 2>>\ @@.player;"I'll do whatever I want,"@@ you say sharply. @@.player;"I really couldn't care less."@@ Mr. Bennet raises an eyebrow. He doesn't see courage in your tone, but rather reckless defiance. @@.boy;"$name, that's not an answer,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. You huff. @@.player;"It //is// an answer. I'm tired of worrying about him. I'm tired of all of it. So yeah, I'll do what I want."@@ Mr. Bennet watches you for a few seconds. When he speaks, he seems kind of disappointed that you're throwing your own safety away. @@.boy;"I understand that you must be tired,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"I understand wanting to stop thinking about it. But 'I don't care' isn't a plan. It's a way to get yourself hurt."@@ @@.boy;"And it puts me in an impossible position,"@@ he adds. @@.boy;"Because if I'm going to advocate for you, if I'm going to take professional risks to protect you, I need to know you're taking your own situation seriously."@@ That hits hard. Mr. Bennet's support costs him a lot, and you're acting like none of it matters. @@.player;"I ''do'' take it seriously,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"Then don't talk like you don't care."@@ You look away, embarrassed at yourself for sounding so childish. Mr. Bennet lets out a heavy breath. @@.boy;"I'm not telling you to be afraid. I'm telling you to be smart. You deserve protection, yes, but you also have to let the people trying to protect you do it with you. You can't just do your own thing."@@ The silence after his words is heavy. Maybe even heavier than the principal's threat was. It's disappointment from someone who actually wants you to succeed. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - 29">><</button>>

@@.boy;"Okay,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, letting out an exhale. @@.boy;"Here's the part I need you to understand. I'm going to be very blunt with you, because this is one of those moments where being vague doesn't help anyone."@@ @@.boy;"This is risky,"@@ he continues. @@.boy;"The kind of thing Principal Zhang is doing, well, it doesn't tend to stay contained. People will get pulled into offices and asked to testify, basically."@@ @@.boy;"What I'm saying is this can become bigger than you. I need you to understand that."@@ @@.player;"Bigger how?"@@ you manage to squeal out. @@.boy;"Bigger like... your friends,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.player;"My friends?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"If this escalates, students around you can get dragged into it, even if they did nothing wrong,"@@ he says gently. @@.boy;"Someone might get asked what they saw. Someone might repeat a rumor and find themselves in Principal Zhang's office."@@ He shakes his head, clearly frustrated. @@.boy;"It's messed up, but it's how Principal Zhang is going to handle things. He'll keep pushing and pushing, even if others get harmed."@@ @@.player;"So what am I meant to do?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"You have to be strategic,"@@ Mr. Bennet tells you. @@.boy;"The person you're dealing with, Principal Zhang, is strategic. He doesn't yell or throw tantrums or make things obvious. He'll just try and create a situation where you feel alone."@@ @@.boy;"But, $name, know one thing,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"You are ''not'' alone. Not in this school with so many wonderful people."@@ @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you whisper. @@.boy;"But I can only help you if you let the adults do their jobs,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, raising a finger. @@.boy;"I can document things and push back through the appropriate channels. I can advocate, I can be a witness, I can bring other supportive adults into the conversation."@@ He pauses. @@.boy;"What I cannot do is protect you if this becomes a war you decide to fight by yourself."@@ @@.player;"I'm not trying to start a war,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"I know you're not,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"But pressure can do strange things to teenagers. It can make you want to run or lash out or do something dramatic. And I don't mean dramatic in a good way. I love the dramatic, but not like that. Not when it gets students hurts."@@ @@.player;"Would Principal Zhang do something?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"He would,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"He might push at everything. Even a tardy could put pressure on you. He'll push at all the little things until they pile up. He will probably push in ways meant to provoke you into giving him a reaction. The kind that would make you look like the problem, not him."@@ @@.boy;"I'm willing to stand in front of you, but you have to meet me halfway by not going off alone and trying to solve it on your lonesome."@@ @@.player;"I get what you mean,"@@ you murmur. You understand that Mr. Bennet is just trying to protect you. He just doesn't want you making a rash decision that'll only hurt you, not the principal. @@.boy;"So, my question to you is that if the principal pushes, are you going to let the adults handle it? Or are you going to try and do something?"@@ <<button "I don't want anyone involved, this is my problem" "Day 24 - 30">>\<<set $d24bennetq3 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D24_bennetq3" "I don't want anyone involved, this is my problem" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'll let you help, I don't want to do this alone" "Day 24 - 30">>\<<set $d24bennetq3 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D24_bennetq3" "I'll let you help, I don't want to do this alone" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'll try, but I don't really know" "Day 24 - 30">>\<<set $d24bennetq3 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D24_bennetq3" "I'll try, but I don't really know" "story">><</button>>

You round the corner to the school and both of you slow down a little, because wow. Pacific Crest's campus is decorated with flags. A lot of flags. They're lined up along the walkway like a parade, little poles stuck into the grass, fabric fluttering in the breeze. The whole front of the school suddenly looks like it's trying to host a United Nations meeting. Luke's eyes go huge. @@.luke;"Oh my God,"@@ he says, excited. @@.luke;"The flags! It's happening!"@@ @@.player;"Guess they're preparing for Friday,"@@ you say, but he's already moving faster, drawn toward them like a moth to a flame. He points immediately at the first one. @@.luke;"Okay, that one is easy. That's France."@@ It is not France. @@.player;"That's the Netherlands,"@@ you correct automatically. Luke squints at it like the flag is being tricky on purpose. @@.luke;"It //is// France. France is like... blue, white, and red. This is blue, white, and red."@@ @@.player;"Yes, in vertical stripes,"@@ you say. @@.player;"These stripes are horizontal. It's different."@@ @@.luke;"Right, right, right,"@@ Luke says, nodding like he totally knew that. @@.luke;"So that's Horizontal France. Got it."@@ @@.player;"It's the Netherlands,"@@ you mutter, but he's already moved on. @@.luke;"Okay, okay,"@@ Luke says. He points at a red-and-white flag. @@.luke;"That one's Canada."@@ @@.player;"Switzerland."@@ Luke blinks. @@.luke;"Where's the leaf?"@@ @@.player;"Nowhere, because it's not Canada,"@@ you say. @@.player;"They just have similar colors."@@ Luke looks very pleased with himself anyway, like he got partial credit. He keeps going, hopping from flag to flag. @@.luke;"That's Brazil,"@@ he declares confidently. @@.player;"That's Portugal.'@@ @@.luke;"That's Spain."@@ @@.player;"That's Mexico."@@ @@.luke;"That's... wait, what is that one actually?"@@ You're correcting him so fast you start to feel like a teacher grading one of Luke's tests. He doesn't even seem to be listening. He'll say the wrong country with his full chest and nod thoughtfully at your correction like you've just offered him something he'll never use again. And then he points at a flag that's... not one you see every day. A yellow and orange flag with a big dragon in the middle. @@.luke;"That's Bhutan!"@@ Luke says, snapping his fingers. @@.player;"What?"@@ Luke looks at you, smug. @@.luke;"Bhutan."@@ You stare. @@.player;"Why do you know Bhutan's flag when you don't even know Mexico's?"@@ Luke shrugs. @@.luke;"I saw a video once and remembered the dragon. I remember dragons."@@ You look back at the flag. Shit, it //is// Bhutan. You're not quite sure how to process that information. @@.player;"Dude, you got //Bhutan// right,"@@ you say, voice full of disbelief. @@.player;"You called Switzerland Canada because it was red and white."@@ @@.luke;"My brain is like a lootbox,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Sometimes you open it and it's a gold. Sometimes it's a gray."@@ @@.player;"Usually it's a gray,"@@ you mumble. As you both keep walking, Luke's excitement ramps up again. @@.luke;"Dude, I am ''so'' hyped for Friday. I got chosen to represent Ireland!"@@ @@.player;"That actually went through?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"Yeah!"@@ he says, puffing up. @@.luke;"Student council chose me. Cool, right? I'm going to be a great representative."@@ Your brain immediately tries to imagine what Luke thinks "representing Ireland" should look like, and your nervousness spikes. Not about auditions this time, although that does linger, but about Luke committing a cultural crime in front of the entire school. @@.player;"Oh no,"@@ you say, bracing for trouble. @@.player;"What are you going to wear?"@@ Luke's face lights up in a way that is never a good sign. @@.luke;"Glad you asked, because I have an idea."@@ @@.player;"Luke."@@ @@.luke;"It's gonna be so good,"@@ he insists. @@.luke;"Iconic."@@ @@.player;"Luke,"@@ you repeat, more warning this time. @@.luke;"Okay, okay, I'll show you,@@ Luke says, digging his phone out of his pocket. @@.luke;"I saved it."@@ The second he lifts the phone, his face unlocks it instantly. You lean in to see what he's going to wear, but what appears on the screen is... not what you expected. It's a reel of a cute East Asian girl dancing, a bright smile on her face. For a full second, you just stare, not sure what to say. Luke's face turns red so fast that you're impressed. @@.luke;"OH NO! WAIT!"@@ He fumbles, his thumb flying, and the screen disappears as he clutches the phone close to his chest. There's a brief second of silence where all you hear are flags fluttering. Luke clears his throat loudly, like he's trying to cough out his embarrassment. @@.luke;"Okay. So. That doesn't mean anything."@@ You stop walking, staring at him with dead-eyed patience. @@.player;"Luke. Don't lie."@@ He looks at the ground. @@.luke;"I forgot to close it..."@@ @@.player;"You forgot to close it,"@@ you repeat. @@.luke;"Last night,"@@ he says quickly. @@.luke;"I was scrolling and then I fell asleep and... Well, it just popped up this morning. I wasn't planning on showing you."@@ @@.player;"I didn't say you were,"@@ you say, and somehow that makes it worse because now he looks like he wants to evaporate on the spot. Luke drags a hand down his face. @@.luke;"Okay. Anyway. Ignore that, 'cause that's not relevant. That's not part of the Ireland thing. The point is the Irish outfit. Which I'm going to show you now. For real."@@ He unlocks his phone, more cautiously this time, and pulls up a photo. And you see a leprechaun outfit. Like, a full-on costume. Green hat, green jacket, fake red beard. It's something you'd see on a cheap party website on Saint Patrick's Day. You can even see some props of gold coins and shamrocks. @@.luke;"What do you think about this?"@@ Luke asks, holding it proudly like he expects you to gasp in admiration. @@.player;"This is... a stereotype,"@@ you say carefully. You're trying not to be mean, but this is genuinely painful. @@.player;"Luke, that's... kind of mocking. Like, it could come off as racist or at least really ignorant to wear that during Cultural Appreciation Week."@@ Luke's smile drops immediately. @@.luke;"What? No, it's not racist. I'm Irish and leprechauns are Irish."@@ @@.player;"They're a stereotype of Irish people,"@@ you insist, trying to explain in a way he'll actually absorb. @@.player;"It's like... if someone got assigned to represent America and showed up with a bald eagle and guns and a really big hamburger."@@ @@.luke;"That's badass,"@@ Luke mutters. @@.player;"No, that's not how you're meant to respond."@@ Luke's face crumples into genuine disappointment. It's kind of sad, because he looks like a dog who just got told he's not going on a walk today. @@.luke;"Oh,"@@ he says softly. @@.luke;"But I thought it would be funny."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you say gently. @@.player;"You're not trying to be a jerk. It's just that you don't want to be that guy, especially for a cultural appreciation thing. It's supposed to be respectful."@@ @@.luke;"Man,"@@ Luke says, sighing dramatically. @@.luke;"My dreams just got cooked. Bruno almost died and now my leprechaun is dead."@@ @@.player;"Bruno didn't almost die,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"He basically did,"@@ Luke insists. @@.player;"Come on, let's just get going,"@@ you say, nudging him forward. @@.player;"We'll find something that doesn't get you cancelled."@@ <<if $club is 0>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - Academic 1">><</button>> <<elseif $club is 1>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - Occult 1">><</button>> <<elseif $club is 2>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - Fashion 1">><</button>> <<elseif $club is 3>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - Yearbook 1">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d24bennetq3 is 0>>\ <<set $bennetpoints += 2>>\ @@.player;"I'll let you help,"@@ you say, voice cracking. It's to your own surprise that that happened, because you didn't realize how much you needed that. How much you needed some help. @@.player;"I don't want to do this alone."@@ Mr. Bennet seems relieved. Not because the problem is solved, but because he now knows he can protect you without you going in the opposite direction. @@.boy;"Thank you,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"That helps."@@ @@.player;"I'm not trying to be dramatic,"@@ you say, swallowing. @@.player;"I just... I'm just tired. And I'm //scared//. I don't know how to deal with someone like him who's out to get me."@@ @@.boy;"That's very reasonable,"@@ Mr. Bennet reassures. @@.boy;"I can't imagine how much pressure you're under."@@ You keep going, because you can't stop now that you've started. @@.player;"If I do something stupid, anything out of line, he'll write it down. He'll call it a disruption and put it in my file. Another piece of evidence. I don't want to give him the pleasure of doing that."@@ @@.boy;"That's smart,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, a slight smile at the edge of his lips. @@.player;"It is?"@@ you ask, surprised by the praise. @@.boy;"Yes,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"You're doing all you can do to keep the principal from gaining more leverage. It's a good strategy. I can help handle the rest."@@ @@.player;"Then... yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I'll let you help."@@ Mr. Bennet nods. @@.boy;"Good. What that means is that if something happens, you come to me. If you get pulled aside, you tell me. If you're summoned to a meeting, you don't walk into it blind. You ask me for support and you don't get cornered."@@ You nod. @@.boy;"And $name, if you're scared, you tell me you're scared,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, giving you a little smile. @@.boy;"You don't have to hold it alone to be 'strong,' alright? Tell me, tell your friends, tell people you can trust."@@ @@.player;"I appreciate that,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"Okay then,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"We do this together."@@ <<elseif $d24bennetq3 is 1>>\ <<set $bennetpoints += 1>>\ @@.player;"I'll try,"@@ you say, then hesitate. You have to be honest here. @@.player;"But I don't really know."@@ Mr. Bennet nods like he expected that answer. He doesn't look disappointed, just concerned. @@.boy;"I understand, $name. It //is// a lot."@@ @@.player;"I want to say I'll let the adults handle it, I really do,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"But in the moment, I don't always think. When I see him glaring at me, I... I don't know."@@ @@.boy;"That's what stress does to everyone,"@@ Mr. Bennet says softly. @@.boy;"It puts your brain into fight or flight mode, and some people choose to fight."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I don't know what my brain is thinking,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"Okay, then how about we build a simple rule you can follow even when you're overwhelmed?"@@ Mr. Bennet asks. @@.player;"Like what?"@@ you ask, looking up. @@.boy;"If something happens, do ''not'' respond in the moment,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"You leave and find someone you trust. It can be me, it can be another teacher, it can be your parents. Just someone who can help you handle this."@@ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"I think I can do that."@@ @@.boy;"Just please don't try to solve it alone while you're panicking,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"That's exactly what the principal wants you to do."@@ @@.player;"I'll do that,"@@ you say. @@.player;"At least I think I will."@@ @@.boy;"Look, $name, if you mess up once, that doesn't mean you failed,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"We can adjust. The goal isn't and has never been perfection. The goal is to keep you from being isolated."@@ @@.player;"I'll try,"@@ you say. Mr. Bennet smiles. @@.boy;"Trying is all I can ask for."@@ <<elseif $d24bennetq3 is 2>>\ <<set $bennetpoints -= 2>>\ @@.player;"I don't want anyone involved,"@@ you say, voice tight. @@.player;"This is my problem."@@ Mr. Bennet goes very still. He doesn't snap at you or scold you. But his face says everything. @@.boy;"$name, why?"@@ he asks. @@.player;"Because it's about me,"@@ you say, swallowing. @@.player;"He's targeting me, and I don't want to drag you or my friends or anyone else into it."@@ @@.boy;"I appreciate the instinct to protect people, I really do,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"But this isn't you being noble."@@ @@.player;"It kind of is,"@@ you correct. @@.boy;"It's you isolating yourself,"@@ Mr. Bennet says firmly. @@.boy;"Isolation is exactly what Principal Zhang wants."@@ @@.player;"You don't know that,"@@ you shoot. @@.boy;"I do,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, voice sharpening slightly. @@.boy;"I've worked in schools long enough to recognize the pattern."@@ @@.player;"I can handle it,"@@ you say. You feel defensive, because the idea of needing help makes you feel weak even if you hate that it does. Mr. Bennet watches you for a few seconds. When he speaks again, his voice is laced with disappointment. @@.boy;"If you insist on handling it alone, then I will let you,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"If I step in and you push me away, I'd not only lose the ability to protect you, but also risk my position for nothing."@@ @@.boy;"I'm willing to advocate for you. I'm willing to take professional risks. But I ''can't'' fight for you if you refuse support and walk into danger alone."@@ @@.player;"So you're saying you won't help me?"@@ you ask, throat tightening. Mr. Bennet shakes his head. @@.boy;"I want nothing more than to help you, $name. But I can't help you if you won't let me. There's a difference."@@ The worst part is that you know everything he's saying is right, but you already made up your mind. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - 31">><</button>>

Mr. Bennet suddenly lets out a small chuckle. Not the big, theatrical laugh he usually does. Just a tired laugh, like he caught himself doing something really stupid. @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask. Mr. Bennet rubs a hand over his face, smiling despite himself. @@.boy;"Sorry, sorry,"@@ he shakes his head. @@.boy;"It's just..."@@ @@.player;"What's so funny?"@@ you ask, a little suspicious. Nothing about the principal is funny, so why is he laughing? Mr. Bennet looks at you, wrinkles near his eyes and lips from years of smiling. @@.boy;"I got so worked up about Principal Zhang that I forgot the most basic question I should've asked you first."@@ @@.player;"Which is...?"@@ He spreads his hand animatedly. @@.boy;"What do ''you'' want, $name?"@@ @@.player;"I want Principal Zhang to stop being weird,"@@ you say simply. @@.boy;"That's true,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, snorting. @@.boy;"But I meant about the role."@@ @@.player;"The role,"@@ you repeat. He nods. @@.boy;"Yes. The role of Juliet. The iconic role that apparently caused the administration in this building to lose their damn minds."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I know that role,"@@ you say, smiling slightly. Mr. Bennet leans back against the desk. @@.boy;"Because here's the thing. I can talk about risk and strategy and the principal being a walking HR violation in a suit all day."@@ @@.player;"You can't say that, Mr. Bennet,"@@ you say, laughing slightly. @@.boy;"Only off the record, of course,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, holding up a finger. @@.boy;"But none of it matters if you don't even //want// Juliet."@@ @@.player;"I mean... auditions are auditions,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I wasn't trying for a specific role."@@ @@.boy;"I'm asking because I don't want to put you in a position where you feel like you have to play a role you don't even want,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"What matters the most, $name, at the end of the day, is how you feel."@@ @@.player;"So you're asking what I want?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"I am asking what you want,"@@ Mr. Bennet confirms. @@.boy;"So, $name. In a world where nobody is being weird about it, and this is just art and casting and fun, would you want to be Juliet?"@@ @@.boy;"And you really are allowed to say no,"@@ Mr. Bennet adds quickly. @@.boy;"Hell, you can say you don't know! It //is// a pretty big decision, after all. I am not going to be wounded, trust me."@@ @@.player;"Are you sure you won't be wounded?"@@ you ask, squinting. @@.boy;"Only a tiny amount, I promise,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"Like a paper cut."@@ You laugh again. Mr. Bennet has a way of lightening the mood. @@.boy;"But genuinely, before we do anything, tell me this: Do you want the role of Juliet?"@@ He watches you closely, waiting for your answer. <<button "I'd like to play Juliet" "Day 24 - 32">>\<<set $d24juliet to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D24_juliet" "I'd like to play Juliet" "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't really know" "Day 24 - 32">>\<<set $d24juliet to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D24_juliet" "I don't really know" "story">><</button>> <<button "I'm not a Juliet kind of person" "Day 24 - 32">>\<<set $d24juliet to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D24_juliet" "I'm not a Juliet kind of person" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d24juliet is 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24Juliet1">>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I think... yeah,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"I think I'd like to play Juliet."@@ @@.boy;"Okay,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, nodding. @@.boy;"Thank you for saying it."@@ @@.player;"It does sound weird when I say it out loud, doesn't it?"@@ you ask, chuckling awkwardly. @@.boy;"I don't know if it does,"@@ Mr. Bennet says kindly. @@.player;"It does to me,"@@ you say, shrugging. @@.player;"It's just that when I was up there, it felt... right. In a good way. Like I actually wanted to do this more."@@ @@.boy;"Mhm."@@ Mr. Bennet makes a small noise to indicate that he's listening and for you to continue. @@.player;"And I know it's just a role and I'm not actually Juliet, of course,"@@ you continue, words tumbling out of your mouth. @@.player;"But sometimes I wish I didn't have to get off the stage. Up there, as Juliet, it didn't feel like I was fighting myself."@@ @@.boy;"You know, $name, you're not the first student to say something like that,"@@ Mr. Bennet says quietly. @@.player;"I'm not?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.boy;"Not at all,"@@ he says, chuckling. @@.boy;"Theater gives people a place to try on selves. Sometimes the self that feels more honest shows up onstage first."@@ @@.player;"I... I don't know what it all means, though,"@@ you add quickly. @@.player;"I just–Juliet is smart and brave. I wish I could be like that."@@ @@.boy;"You might be underestimating yourself, $name,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, giving you a small smile. @@.boy;"I'd say you're a very bright and courageous student. One of my favorites that I've had the pleasure of teaching."@@ @@.player;"Thanks,"@@ you whisper, a little embarrassed. @@.player;"But, uh, yeah. I'd like to try for Juliet. If it makes sense. If I'm actually right for it, of course."@@ @@.boy;"So, it seems like I'm hearing two things here,"@@ Mr. Bennet says carefully. @@.boy;"One is that you're artistically interested. Two is that it matters to you in a very personal way. Both of those are perfectly good reasons to want the role."@@ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"So, if you want Juliet, we'll move forward with that in mind,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. <<elseif $d24juliet is 1>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24Juliet2">>\ @@.player;"I don't really know,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I promise I'm not trying to dodge the question or anything. I just can't tell if I want it or not. I'm not //sure//."@@ @@.boy;"That's fine,"@@ he says. @@.boy;"I can imagine this is a tough decision. Juliet is a huge role. It's emotionally loaded and famous. Not to mention you have some extra circumstances on top of that right now."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I do,"@@ you say, grimacing. @@.boy;"Sometimes students don't know if they want a role until they themselves try it out a few times,"@@ Mr. Bennet continues. @@.boy;"Hell, some don't know until they're actually on stage."@@ @@.player;"That's part of the problem,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I can't separate the role from everything else."@@ @@.boy;"I understand,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"You don't have to decide tonight. I suppose that I'll have to decide. The point of auditions are to give me information, after all."@@ @@.player;"So you're not mad at me for not having an answer?"@@ you ask. @@.boy;"$name, if I got mad at teenagers for not being sure, I would have quit this job in my first week,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, smiling in amusement. @@.player;"That's fair,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.boy;"For now, it's enough that you care about doing good work,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, @@.boy;"If you end up with Juliet, we'll talk. If you don't? Well, we'll talk anyway. Either way, we can make sure you're not getting pushed into something you dislike."@@ <<elseif $d24juliet is 2>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24Juliet3">>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I don't really think I'm a Juliet kind of person,"@@ you say honestly. @@.boy;"That is completely fair,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.player;"It's not that I hate her or anything, I quite liked reading her today,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But it does feel like a lot, and it seems complicated too."@@ @@.boy;"It is a lot and it is complicated,"@@ Mr. Bennet echoes, chuckling. @@.boy;"Cross-gender roles can be hard as well. Not because they're wrong, of course, but because they come with a lot of extra weight. If you're telling me that's not something you want to do, that is completely fine."@@ @@.player;"I just don't think it's me,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"I do apologize for not asking you earlier where your comfort level was,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, sounding genuinely regretful. @@.boy;"I assumed flexibility because of your previous performances and the gender ratio, but that doesn't mean I should skip consent."@@ @@.player;"Oh, it's really alright, Mr. Bennet,"@@ you say, surprised by the apology. @@.player;"It's not a big deal, it doesn't matter."@@ @@.boy;"It //does// matter,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"''You'' matter."@@ @@.boy;"So, if Juliet isn't your role, then we'll focus on what is,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, giving you a smile. @@.boy;"There are plenty of parts in this play that can suit you well."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - 33">><</button>>

@@.boy;"In my humble opinion, that is enough heavy conversation for one day,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.player;"I agree,"@@ you say. @@.player;"My brain is just... cooked."@@ @@.boy;"Same,"@@ he says, chuckling. @@.boy;"And you really should get home."@@ He glances at his watch, sees the time, and looks surprised. @@.boy;"Wow, I'm sorry I kept you after school. I didn't mean to hold you this long."@@ @@.player;"It's fine,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"You say that, but you may be furious on the inside,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, lifting an eyebrow. @@.boy;"Perhaps you're starving."@@ @@.player;"I'm //always// starving,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"Then I better let you go,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. He suddenly steps back and gives you an exaggerated bow. One hand is over his heart and the other sweeps outward. @@.boy;"Then I bid thee adieu, noble thespian."@@ @@.player;"Oh my God, Mr. Bennet!"@@ you exclaim. @@.boy;"Go forth,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, not feeling an ounce of shame. @@.boy;"Consume snacks, hydrate, and attempt sleep."@@ @@.player;"I'll try,"@@ you say. @@.boy;"Good,"@@ he says, straightening up. @@.boy;"And $name?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ @@.boy;"You were fantastic today,"@@ he says. @@.player;"You were too, sir."@@ You start heading for the door. Your drama teacher gives you a large wave, as if you're leaving for another country. @@.boy;"Farewell!"@@ You push the door open and step out into the hallway, the school quieter now that most people have left. Well, it's time to go home now. <<button "Gotta go home" "Day 24 - 34">><</button>>

You're halfway out of school when a hand catches your sleeve from the side. You jump. Is it the principal? Has Zhang returned to fuck with you further? @@.jordan;"$name."@@ You spin, ready to fight. But all you see is Jordan and Noelle, right behind you somehow. You blink. @@.player;"What are you doing?"@@ Jordan shrugs. @@.jordan;"Waiting."@@ Noelle nods quickly. @@.noelle;"We, um... we waited."@@ @@.player;"You just waited in the hallway?"@@ you ask, confused. @@.jordan;"We didn't want to leave just yet,"@@ Jordan says. @@.noelle;"We weren't sure if you'd be okay,"@@ Noelle says quietly. @@.player;"I'm okay,"@@ you say. @@.noelle;"We just... when Mr. Bennet asked you to stay, we didn't want you to be alone if it was bad,"@@ Noelle says, eyes flicking down the hallway to make sure it's empty. Jordan nods, although he tries to play it off like he doesn't care. @@.jordan;"Also, you were taking forever."@@ @@.player;"You were worried,"@@ you say. Jordan scoffs. @@.jordan;"I was ''not'' worried–"@@ @@.noelle;"You were,"@@ Noelle quietly cuts in. Jordan turns to her, betrayed. @@.jordan;"Noelle."@@ Noelle shrinks a tiny bit like she didn't mean to expose him, then adds, @@.noelle;"I mean, like, the normal amount. Yeah! Normal friend amount."@@ @@.player;"Normal friend amount?"@@ you ask, looking at Jordan. @@.jordan;"Shut up,"@@ Jordan murmurs, crossing his arms to try and look tough. @@.player;"Well, thanks anyway,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.jordan;"Sure,"@@ Jordan says, looking away because he doesn't know what to do with gratitude. @@.noelle;"But he... did Mr. Bennet actually say anything bad?"@@ Noelle asks cautiously. @@.jordan;"Hopefully you're not in any trouble or anything,"@@ Jordan adds. @@.player;"No, Mr. Bennet was actually really nice,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's just that the principal's a dick."@@ The word leaves your mouth before you can filter it, and the hallway goes silent. Jordan's eyebrows shoot up while Noelle's eyes go wide. Her hands go up to her mouth, like she's bracing for lightning to strike you for daring to utter such a horrible word. Then Jordan goes, @@.jordan;"Oooooooh."@@ Noelle joins in, quieter but still commited, @@.noelle;"Oooooh."@@ @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you say, staring at them. @@.player;"Please stop."@@ @@.jordan;"$name said //dick//,"@@ Jordan says, grinning like he's twelve. @@.noelle;"In the hallway!"@@ Noelle says, cheeks going pink. @@.player;"I know for a ''fact'' that the two of you have heard the word dick before,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You're not children."@@ Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"I have heard it before, yeah. But hearing it from you is different."@@ Noelle nods, seeming to agree. @@.noelle;"It's just surprising. You don't usually–"@@ she makes a vague gesture with her hands, @@.noelle;"–commit to words like that."@@ @@.player;"Commit to words?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.jordan;"This just shows $name's range in acting,"@@ Jordan says, pretending to be serious. @@.jordan;"He went full Shakespeare on stage and is now spitting out profanity. It's truly impressive."@@ @@.player;"I hate you,"@@ you say, groaning. @@.jordan;"No you don't,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Look at you. You're smiling."@@ You are, in fact, smiling. @@.noelle;"So... Mr. Bennet wasn't mad?"@@ Noelle asks. @@.player;"Not at all,"@@ you say. @@.player;"He was just trying to help me."@@ @@.jordan;"And Zhang?"@@ Jordan asks, looking annoyed just by his name. @@.player;"Zhang is still Zhang,"@@ you say, letting out an exhale. Noelle flinches at the name. @@.noelle;"So it really was about him."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say carefully. @@.player;"He's still monitoring me and trying to make everything into a problem."@@ @@.jordan;"Because you read Juliet?"@@ Jordan asks, clearly annoyed. He phrases it like a question, but he knows the answer already. Everyone does. @@.player;"That was today's topic, yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But he's coming after me for just about anything. He's just waiting for me to step wrong."@@ Noelle's hands fold into fists before opening up again. She looks down for a while, she's building courage to say something. @@.noelle;"I hate him,"@@ she says quietly. Jordan's eyes widen in surprise. @@.jordan;"Woah."@@ Noelle looks surprised too, like she can't believe she just said that. @@.noelle;"I, uh, sorry. That was too much."@@ @@.player;"No, no, no, don't apologize,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's accurate."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, it's accurate,"@@ Jordan echoes. Noelle takes a small breath before blurting out, @@.noelle;"He's an asshole."@@ You and Jordan are silent for a few seconds, surprised, before turning toward her and going, @@.player;"Oooooooooh."@@ @@.noelle;"Stop!"@@ Noelle says, cheeks going bright red. @@.noelle;"I-I didn't."@@ @@.jordan;"Noelle said asshole,"@@ Jordan says, smirking. @@.player;"At school!"@@ you add. @@.noelle;"You swore too!"@@ Noelle says, mortified. @@.jordan;"But that's different,"@@ Jordan says immediately. @@.noelle;"How?"@@ Noelle asks, confused. Jordan thinks for a while, then says, @@.jordan;"It just is."@@ @@.noelle;"This is why I don't talk,"@@ Noelle says. She's trying to look mad, but you can see she's struggling to keep in a laugh. @@.player;"No, you really should talk,"@@ you say gently. @@.player;"It's just that we're immature."@@ @@.jordan;"Very,"@@ Jordan says. @@.noelle;"I don't know why I talk to you guys,"@@ Noelle says, huffing. @@.player;"So what now?"@@ you ask, glancing toward the exit. @@.player;"Are you two going to escort me home?"@@ @@.jordan;"I was thinking we could go on a convenience store run,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"We can get cup ramen."@@ @@.player;"Why cup ramen?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"Because cup ramen fixes everything."@@ @@.noelle;"It is warm and predictable,"@@ Noelle says. @@.jordan;"Exactly,"@@ Jordan says. You all step out of the school's front doors and into the cooler air. The campus has gotten a lot quieter. There are a few stragglers and the distant sound of a car alarm chirping, but that's about it. @@.jordan;"What flavors are you guys going to get?"@@ Jordan asks. @@.player;"Flavor?"@@ you repeat. @@.player;"It's ramen."@@ @@.jordan;"I thought you were Asian,"@@ Jordan says, looking offended. @@.jordan;"There are a lot of ramen flavors."@@ @@.noelle;"Is spicy a flavor?"@@ Noelle asks. @@.player;"Do you do spicy?"@@ you ask. @@.noelle;"Not really,"@@ Noelle says, looking terrified. @@.noelle;"I don't like it when my mouth is burning up."@@ @@.jordan;"Weak,"@@ Jordan mururs. @@.noelle;"Weak?!?!"@@ Noelle exclaims. @@.player;"He's not wrong,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"$name, my compañero, you'll get something spicy, right?"@@ @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you answer honestly. @@.jordan;"I'm with a bunch of babies,"@@ Jordan mutters, disappointed. @@.noelle;"Can we get drinks too?"@@ Noelle asks. @@.noelle;"Preferably something sweet."@@ @@.jordan;"Yeah, of course,"@@ Jordan says. @@.player;"Thanks for waiting, you guys,"@@ you say suddenly. You know it doesn't quite fit, but you needed to get the words out. @@.jordan;"Yeah, yeah,"@@ Jordan says, waving it off. @@.noelle;"We waited because we wanted to, don't worry,"@@ Noelle says. @@.noelle;"Not because we had to."@@ @@.player;"Guess I'm officially being escorted to cup ramen, then,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"You're right,"@@ Jordan says. @@.noelle;"For emotional support,"@@ Noelle adds. @@.jordan;"Also because I'm hungry,"@@ Jordan says. <<button "Convenience store run" "Day 24 - 35">><</button>>

The door chimes above you as you enter the convenience store. Somewhere near the counter, a bored employee barely looks up for half a second. The place smells like instant coffee, bread, and chips. Jordan relaxes the second you're inside. It seems like stepping off school campus and into a place with food makes him happier. @@.jordan;"Okay,"@@ he says, looking around with purpose. @@.jordan;"Ramen first. Drinks second. If we do drinks first, we'll get distracted. We can't have that happening."@@ @@.player;"I wasn't aware there was an order,"@@ you say, amused. @@.jordan;"There is,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"This isn't just for fun, you know. This is a tactical food run."@@ Noelle trails behind you, looking nervous. Her eyes still scan the shelves with interest, though. It's hard //not// to look at the food, after all. She's quietly deciding what she wants. You pass the chips, the candy, the microwave burritos that look... suspicious. Jordan doesn't even slow down the whole way. He goes straight for the ramen section. And once you're there, you see that it's basically a wall of cups. Cup ramen is stacked in neat towers. Some have bright packaging, some have pictures of cartoon mascots on them, some only have text. Cups with beef, chicken, pork, and seafood. Jordan stops in front of it and smiles. @@.jordan;"Beautiful,"@@ he says. @@.player;"It's just ramen,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"You know what, $name?"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Ramen deserves respect that I don't think you're giving."@@ He reaches up and grabs the biggest cup on the shelf. It's not even a cup, really. It's basically a bowl. The plastic is thick and there's a picture of a thick slab of pork on it. The label says: EXTRA SPICY & MEATY. @@.jordan;"Now this is perfect,"@@ Jordan says, laughing to himself as he holds it up proudly. @@.noelle;"That's perfect?"@@ Noelle asks, intimidated. @@.player;"Jordan,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"What?"@@ he asks. @@.player;"We came here for cup noodles,"@@ you say, pointing at the... //thing// in his hands. @@.player;"This is a bowl noodle. That's not a cup, that's a cauldron."@@ @@.jordan;"Same thing,"@@ Jordan says, unfazed. @@.player;"It's literally not,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"It'll fit just fine in my belly,"@@ Jordan says, settling the debate just like that. Noelle slides in and grabs her own choice. It's a normal cup, not massive like Jordan's. It's mild, because spice is scary, and has a picture of a cute cartoon chicken on it. @@.noelle;"This one,"@@ Noelle says, holding it close to her chest and nodding. @@.jordan;"It's mild,@@ Jordan says. Noelle gets defensive. @@.noelle;"I-I don't want my mouth to hurt."@@ @@.jordan;"It's sad to see this,"@@ Jordan says. @@.noelle;"I just don't want to die,"@@ Noelle whispers. @@.player;"Noelle is being smart and choosing survival,"@@ you say, grinning. Noelle nods gratefully at you, then looks toward Jordan. @@.noelle;"Some of us don't want to suffer for fun."@@ Jordan lifts his huge ramen bowl. @@.jordan;"Suffering builds character."@@ @@.noelle;"I already //have// character,"@@ Noelle says. @@.player;"I agree,"@@ you say. Jordan rolls his eyes. @@.noelle;"Okay, what are you going to get, $name?"@@ Noelle asks you. Jordan turns too, suddenly very invested. @@.jordan;"Yeah. Choose."@@ You look at the options in front of you, and your brain finally has a problem it enjoys solving. No principals, no auditions, nothing dramatic. Just ramen. You glance at Jordan's giant meaty spicy bowl, then at Noelle's mild chicken cup, then at a third option. It's an ultra-spicy cup with warnings all over the packaging. Flames are printed on the label. A cartoon pepper with a malicious grin. It basically screams hot. Jordan notices where you're looking. @@.jordan;"Oh shit."@@ Noelle's eyes widen. @@.noelle;"$name, please don't."@@ Your hand hovers, considering what to get. <<button "Get Jordan's choice" "Day 24 - 36">>\<<set $d24ramen to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D24_ramen" "Get Jordan's choice" "rel">><</button>> <<button "Get Noelle's choice" "Day 24 - 36">>\<<set $d24ramen to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D24_ramen" "Get Noelle's choice" "story">><</button>> <<button "Get the super spicy mouth flaming super death cup" "Day 24 - 36">>\<<set $d24ramen to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D24_ramen" "Get the super spicy mouth flaming super death cup" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d24ramen is 0>>\ You stare at Jordan's massive "cup" one last time and, against your better judgment, reach up and pull the same one off the shelf. You notice that it's really heavy. @@.jordan;"What a great choice,"@@ Jordan says, face lighting up. @@.jordan;"The ramen for the greats."@@ @@.player;"I'm just trying it out,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"Well, you're going to try it out a lot more after this,"@@ Jordan says. Noelle looks at the bowl-sized ramen, then at you, then at her own cup. She's desperately trying to process how a human being can eat that much. @@.noelle;"But that's... not a cup."@@ @@.player;"It's cup-adjacent,"@@ you say, refusing to back down. @@.noelle;"It's a bowl,"@@ Noelle says, eyebrows knitting together. @@.noelle;"It's massive."@@ @@.jordan;"Well, I call it value,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Look at the price. Now look at the size. That's called a good deal."@@ @@.noelle;"You're going to eat that whole thing?"@@ Noelle asks. @@.player;"I mean, I might,"@@ you say, hesitant. Jordan has no such qualms. @@.jordan;"Yeah, I'm going to devour this whole thing."@@ @@.noelle;"Is that possible?"@@ Noelle asks, face worried. @@.jordan;"Considering I eat at least this much every meal, I'd say so, yeah,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Better than your mild chicken."@@ @@.noelle;"It's called not suffering,"@@ Noelle says, hugging her chicken cup even closer. @@.player;"I don't want to be hungry again in an hour,"@@ you say. Noelle nods. @@.noelle;"I guess that makes sense."@@ @@.jordan;"It has meat ''and'' it's spicy,"@@ Jordan says, pointing at the label on your packet. @@.jordan;"That's how you know it's elite."@@ @@.player;"I'm blaming you if this is disgusting,"@@ you say, glaring at him. Jordan grins. @@.jordan;"If it's disgusting, it builds character."@@ Noelle mutters, @@.noelle;"Everything builds character to you."@@ @@.jordan;"Basically,"@@ Jordan says, shrugging. @@.noelle;"Hmph."@@ <<elseif $d24ramen is 1>>\ Your body makes the decision before your pride can interfere. You reach out and grab the same mild chicken cup as Noelle. Noelle's face brightens immediately. @@.noelle;"Oh! Okay. That's good."@@ Jordan's expression drops. @@.jordan;"Wow."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask. Jordan gestures at your cup, offended. @@.jordan;"You chose the mild chicken."@@ @@.player;"I'm just trying to eat food, not fight for my life,"@@ you say. @@.noelle;"I think it's a good choice!"@@ Noelle says, nodding enthusiastically. @@.noelle;"It's calm."@@ @@.jordan;"Ramen isn't meant to be calm,"@@ Jordan says, squinting. @@.player;"Not everything has to hurt,"@@ you state. @@.jordan;"Spice is flavor,"@@ Jordan argues. @@.noelle;"Spice is bad,"@@ Noelle whispers. Jordan sighs. @@.jordan;"You guys are biased."@@ @@.player;"I just want something good and simple, alright?"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"This is really sad to see,"@@ Jordan murmurs, shaking his head. @@.jordan;"It's a weak choice."@@ @@.player;"I'll live,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.noelle;"$name will like it,"@@ Noelle says. <<elseif $d24ramen is 2>>\ You stare at the super spicy cup with the flames all over it and the warnings and the cartoon pepper that looks like it's about to mug you. It's a bad idea, absolutely. You know that for a fact. The issue is that that fact makes it irresistible. Before Noelle can stop you, you reach up and pull it off the shelf. Noelle makes a horrified sound. @@.noelle;"$name..."@@ Jordan's eyebrows shoot up, and he grins. @@.jordan;"NO WAY!"@@ @@.player;"I just want to see what happens,"@@ you say. @@.noelle;"That's not a reason to actually get it,"@@ Noelle says. Jordan laughs. @@.jordan;"That's the best reason, if you ask me."@@ @@.noelle;"It literally has flames on it!"@@ Noelle says. @@.player;"It's just marketing,"@@ you say, ignoring the warning icon that looks suspiciously sincere. @@.jordan;"I love this pepper, man,"@@ Jordan says, pointing at the mascot. @@.jordan;"It looks like it's got a criminal record."@@ @@.player;"That's part of the charm,"@@ you say. Noelle stares at you. @@.noelle;"Why would you want this after the day you just had?"@@ @@.player;"I want this //because// of the day I just had,"@@ you say. @@.player;"The spice will wash away the pain."@@ @@.noelle;"I don't know,"@@ Noelle mutters. <</if>>\ @@.jordan;"Alright, ramen's all acquired,"@@ Jordan says. @@.noelle;"Now we just need drinks,"@@ Noelle says. @@.jordan;"Drinks it is,"@@ Jordan says. You fall into step with them, heading toward the drink aisle. <<button "Yummy in your tummy" "Day 24 - 37">><</button>>

Jordan stops in front of the glowing drink section, looking at the assortment of bottles. He thinks for a second before yanking the fridge door open and grabbing a can of ''Stripe''. A bright green, fizzy, citrus soda. He holds it up. @@.jordan;"For ramen? It's gotta be Stripe."@@ @@.player;"How unexpected,"@@ you say. Jordan shakes the can lightly and taps his fingernails against it lightly, listening to it. @@.jordan;"C'mon, you've gotta admit it pairs well."@@ @@.noelle;"Doesn't it make your mouth feel all weird?"@@ Noelle asks, making a face. @@.jordan;"No,"@@ Jordan says. @@.player;"It kinda does,"@@ you murmur. @@.jordan;"Only if you're weak."@@ Noelle goes next. @@.noelle;"I think I want something calming,"@@ she whispers to herself. @@.jordan;"Drinks are for hyping you up,"@@ Jordan chimes in. @@.noelle;"Life is already 'hype' enough without crazy drinks."@@ Jordan's mouth twitches, but he doesn't argue. He's way too pleased with his Stripe. Noelle goes next. She opens the door far more carefully than Jordan did, afraid that it'll make a loud sound and make everyone stare at her. She scans the rows, taking her time, before finally reaching in and pulling out an iced green tea bottle. @@.noelle;"Look,"@@ Noelle says, smiling. @@.noelle;"Iced green tea."@@ @@.jordan;"I don't know why, but it feels very you,"@@ Jordan says. Noelle's cheeks go pink. @@.noelle;"Is that bad?"@@ Jordan shrugs. @@.jordan;"Not really. It's just kind of soft."@@ Noelle clutches the bottle close. @@.noelle;"Soft is fine."@@ Jordan, still holding his Stripe, looks at you. @@.jordan;"Alright, $name. What are you getting?"@@ <<button "Stripe" "Day 24 - 38">>\<<set $d24rdrink to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D24_rdrink" "Stripe" "story">><</button>> <<button "Iced green tea" "Day 24 - 38">>\<<set $d24rdrink to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D24_rdrink" "Iced green tea" "story">><</button>> <<button "Water" "Day 24 - 38">>\<<set $d24rdrink to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D24_rdrink" "Water" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d24rdrink is 0>>\ You open the fridge door and grab a can of Stripe without overthinking it. A cold metal can filled with fizzy promise? Now that's just perfect. @@.jordan;"Well done,"@@ Jordan says, smiling. It's clear that, to him at least, you just made the correct choice. @@.player;"Don't celebrate,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"I'm only doing this because it pairs well with ramen."@@ Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"Stripe is the perfect ramen drink. It truly helps reset your soul."@@ Noelle watches you with a horrified expression. @@.noelle;"Doesn't the carbonation burn a little?"@@ @@.player;"It's not acid,"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"Noelle just doesn't understand carbonation,"@@ Jordan mutters. @@.noelle;"I understand that carbonation, like spice, means pain,"@@ Noelle says. @@.player;"Well, as Jordan said, pain is good for you,"@@ you say. Jordan taps his Stripe can against yours in a toast. @@.jordan;"Cheers to bad decisions, $name."@@ @@.noelle;"I made a good decision!"@@ Noelle says firmly. @@.jordan;"More like a boring decision,"@@ Jordan corrects. @@.player;"Well, I guess we're officially a ramen party,"@@ you say, closing the cooler door. <<elseif $d24rdrink is 1>>\ Today, you just want something calm. You've already been through enough crazy today, you don't need a fizzy drink as well. So you open the cooler door and grab the same iced green tea Noelle picked. @@.noelle;"Ooh,"@@ Noelle says, smiling. @@.noelle;"Nice."@@ Jordan's face, on the other hand, drops. @@.jordan;"Wow."@@ @@.player;"Wow, what?"@@ you ask, holding up the bottle. Jordan gestures at your bottle. @@.jordan;"You're copying her."@@ @@.player;"I'm not copying her,"@@ you say, defending yourself. @@.player;"And we all know that if I chose Stripe, you'd be happy right now."@@ Noelle mumbles. @@.noelle;"$name's not wrong..."@@ @@.jordan;"Rude,"@@ Jordan mutters. He doesn't say you're wrong, though. You're sure that deep down, he knows the truth. @@.noelle;"Green tea is so peaceful,"@@ Noelle says, nodding. @@.noelle;"It's good."@@ @@.jordan;"There's a word that describes you two, but I'm having trouble thinking of it,"@@ Jordan says, rubbing his chin. @@.player;"Stable?"@@ you offer. @@.noelle;"Maybe mature,"@@ Noelle says. Jordan shakes his head. @@.jordan;"The word was lame, but thank you for trying."@@ <<elseif $d24rdrink is 2>>\ You stare at Stripe and then you stare at the iced green tea. They're good, sure, but they lose your attention pretty quickly. What holds it, on the other hand, is the line of water bottles. Look, look, look. After the day you just had? Your body wants the most reliable thing on earth. So you open the cooler door and pull out a cold bottle of water. @@.jordan;"No, $name,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"You put that back."@@ Noelle blinks, confused by your choice. @@.noelle;"Water?"@@ @@.player;"Yes, water,"@@ you say, holding it up defensively. @@.player;"What do you guys have against water?"@@ @@.jordan;"Here I was thinking you couldn't get more boring than green tea,"@@ Jordan mutters. @@.jordan;"And here you are. With H2O."@@ Noelle whispers, @@.noelle;"That's so responsible."@@ @@.player;"Isn't that a compliment?"@@ you ask. @@.noelle;"Not really."@@ @@.player;"I'm just being healthy, alright?"@@ you say, closing the cooler door. @@.jordan;"You're about to eat instant noodles,"@@ Jordan says, nudging your ramen cup. @@.player;"Which is why my drink has to be healthy,"@@ you fire back. @@.noelle;"Green tea is healthy,"@@ Noelle comments. @@.jordan;"At least green tea has flavor,"@@ Jordan says. @@.player;"Water is peace,"@@ you say, raising the water bottle up a little. @@.player;"I'm sorry you guys don't understand that water is the best drink."@@ @@.jordan;"I do not approve of this water era,"@@ Jordan says, unimpressed. <</if>>\ <<button "Selections done!" "Day 24 - 39">><</button>>

After paying, the three of you shuffled over to the hot water station. Jordan dumped the entire spice packet in, of course. After you filled your cups with hot water, you guys closed the lid. @@.noelle;"Okay, where do we sit?"@@ Noelle asks, doing an anxious shuffle. @@.noelle;"It's hot! Oh my God, it's hot."@@ Jordan doesn't hesitate for a single second. He walks outside, takes two steps past the door, and plops down on the curb. Yes, he just sits on it without any deliberation or anything. He balances his giant ramen bowl on his knee and rips open the wooden chopstick packet. @@.player;"Jordan,"@@ you say, staring at him. @@.player;"Bro."@@ Jordan looks back at you, completely unbothered. @@.jordan;"What?"@@ Noelle stands frozen near the door, clutching her chicken cup with both hands. Her eyes flick down to the curb then go back to you. @@.noelle;"We... we can't sit there!"@@ she exclaims. @@.jordan;"Why?"@@ Jordan asks, eyebrows lifting. Noelle hesitates before answering, @@.noelle;"It's... dirty."@@ Jordan looks down at the curb. @@.jordan;"Yeah, of course it is. It's outside."@@ @@.noelle;"That's the problem."@@ @@.jordan;"A little dirt never hurt anyone,"@@ Jordan responds, shrugging. @@.noelle;"Dirt //has// hurt people!"@@ Noelle exclaims, distressed. @@.noelle;"You can get infected."@@ You, unfortunately, decide to betray her. You carefully lower yourself onto the curb next to Jordan, setting your ramen down between your feet while it cools. The concrete is a bit cold, but that's fine. The vibes are immaculate. @@.noelle;"$name..."@@ Noelle murmurs, staring at you, eyes wide with disappointment. @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask innocently. @@.player;"It's a convenient spot. We're literally at a convenience store."@@ @@.jordan;"I'm glad to see you understand,"@@ Jordan says, smirking. Noelle's cheeks go pink. @@.noelle;"You're both... you're both so... unconcerned!"@@ @@.jordan;"Appreciate it,"@@ Jordan says, as if that's praise. Noelle stays standing with the ramen cup steaming in her hands. You can tell she wants to sit because the cup is hot and her legs are tired, but the curb is basically a nightmare. @@.player;"Noelle, it's okay,"@@ you reassure. @@.player;"It's not like we're licking the curb or anything."@@ Jordan adds, @@.jordan;"That kinda sounds fun."@@ @@.noelle;"Jordan!"@@ Noelle says, appalled. You glare at him. @@.player;"Don't say that when she's already stressed."@@ @@.jordan;"I'm joking, I'm joking,"@@ Jordan says, a smirk on his face. Noelle looks like she doesn't fully believe him. You pat the curb beside you with your hand. @@.player;"Come on and sit. If you don't, your hands are going to get burns."@@ Noelle bites her lips, looking at the curb in horror. @@.noelle;"It's just... there's... gum."@@ Jordan looks at where Noelle's looking. @@.jordan;"That's not gum. That's–"@@ @@.player;"Don't,"@@ you warn. Jordan shuts his mouth. Noelle hesitates for one last second before carefully lowering herself onto the curb, keeping her chicken cup safe from spilling. @@.noelle;"I'm blaming you if my skirt gets dirty,"@@ she says, looking at Jordan. @@.jordan;"Yeah, sure,"@@ Jordan says, shrugging. @@.player;"See? Look at us."@@ You grin. @@.player;"We're bonding via curb dirt."@@ @@.noelle;"I'm not bonding,"@@ Noelle says, sighing. @@.noelle;"I'm just compromising because I'm under duress."@@ The three of you sit there in a crooked line, ramen cups steaming. Cars pass on the road in front of you while people pass on the sidewalk behind you. The sun is high in the sky, but you're protected by the shade from autumn leaves. The vibe is kind of immaculate. Jordan is done waiting. He grabs his bowl and peels the lid back. He stirs it with his chopsticks a bit to make sure it's good to eat. Noelle does the same, ensuring the seasoning distributes evenly. You do yours too, of course. @@.jordan;"Let's get the first bite in together,"@@ Jordan says, looking between you two. Noelle blinks. @@.noelle;"Why?"@@ @@.jordan;"It'll help our morale,"@@ Jordan says, smiling. @@.jordan;"An audition well done, you know?"@@ @@.player;"I'm up for it,"@@ you say. Noelle nods too. @@.noelle;"Fine."@@ You all lift your cups slightly. @@.player;"Cheers!"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"To surviving auditions!"@@ Jordan says. @@.noelle;"To... not dying,'@@ Noelle whispers. <<if $d24ramen is 0>>\ You scoop up a mouthful and chew. Shit, this is actually really good. @@.player;"Wait,"@@ you say, looking down into the container, then back up. @@.player;"This is delicious, yeah, but there's so much meat in this."@@ Jordan nods. @@.jordan;"Yeah, of course there is."@@ You stir again, genuinely impressed. @@.player;"I think there's more meat than noodles."@@ @@.jordan;"That's a good thing,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"That means it respects you."@@ Noelle peers into your bowl and blinks in surprise. @@.noelle;"There's too much meat."@@ @@.jordan;"There's no such thing as too much meat,"@@ Jordan says, grabbing more with his chopsticks. @@.player;"I have to admit that this is actually kind of amazing, Jordan,"@@ you say, taking another bite. @@.jordan;"Welcome to the big leagues, $name."@@ Noelle mutters, @@.noelle;"The big leagues of instant ramen..."@@ <<elseif $d24ramen is 1>>\ You take a bite of ramen and immediately feel comforted. The taste is perfect, exactly how ramen should be. Salty broth with a hint of chicken and a tiny bit of spice. Just enough to give it some taste. @@.player;"This is really good,"@@ you say, pleasantly surprised. @@.noelle;"Right?"@@ Noelle says, smiling. @@.noelle;"It's... nice."@@ You nod, stirring again. @@.player;"It has like... a slight kick to it. Not a lot, but just enough."@@ @@.jordan;"Kick,"@@ Jordan repeats, sounding disgusted. @@.player;"Yes, Jordan,"@@ you say, glaring at him. @@.player;"A kick."@@ Jordan leans over, peering into your cup. @@.jordan;"$name, that is basically water with aspirations of being ramen broth."@@ @@.noelle;"It's not water!"@@ Noelle says, looking offended. @@.jordan;"Hate to break it to ya, but it is."@@ @@.player;"It tastes good,"@@ you say, rolling your eyes. @@.jordan;"I'll say that the chicken looks good,"@@ Jordan says, chuckling. <<elseif $d24ramen is 2>>\ You take one confident bite. For half a second, it isn't that bad. Not really //that// spicy. And then it hits. It's like your mouth lights on fucking fire. Your eyes widen and your throat closes. You cough. @@.jordan;"Holy,"@@ Jordan says, turning toward you instantly. Noelle's face goes pale. @@.noelle;"$name, are you okay?"@@ You try to answer, but all you manage to get out is another cough. You wave your hand in desperation, trying to fan the air inside your mouth. @@.jordan;"He's dying,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Noelle, open his drink for him, fast."@@ You manage, between coughs, @@.player;"I'm... fine..."@@ You clearly aren't. Noelle fumbles with your drink, but can't open it because of the pressure. @@.noelle;"I-I can't open it!"@@ Jordan snatches it and opens it himself. @@.jordan;"Quick, drink up."@@ You start chugging in desperation. Maybe you did make the wrong choice. <</if>>\ <<button "Ramen" "Day 24 - 40">><</button>>

By the time lunch finally hits, your brain is struggling. The cafeteria is loud as usual, of course. You weave through the crowd with your tray of slop, scanning for the one safe landmark in this chaos. The one place where you'll feel secure. Your table. Luke and Samantha are already there, exactly where they always are. You don't know how they're always there earlier than you. Luke might just sprint to get food as fast as possible. Samantha might just... teleport. You're still a few feet away when you catch what they're saying. @@.luke;"I'm just saying,"@@ Luke says, voice loud and sure, @@.luke;"if you show up with an Anderloid, people immediately think you're... like... a weird guy."@@ @@.samantha;"A weird guy?"@@ Samantha asks, narrowing her eyes. @@.samantha;"Luke, have you seen yourself? You ''are'' the weird guy."@@ @@.luke;"No, I'm normal,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Why? Because I have an eyeFone."@@ @@.samantha;"That's not how normal works,"@@ Samantha scoffs. You slide into your seat across from them, setting your tray down carefully to not startle them. @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you say, already amused. @@.player;"What are we fighting about today?"@@ Luke brightens. @@.luke;"$name! Perfect! Tell her she's wrong."@@ Samantha's eyes narrow at you. @@.samantha;"Don't you dare, $name. You're my only hope of having at least one person in this friend group with a functioning brain."@@ @@.luke;"Wow,"@@ Luke says, offended. @@.luke;"I see how it is."@@ You lean back, taking a sip of soda, and let them continue because you can tell this argument already has momentum and stopping it now wouldn't work. Luke taps the back of his phone. @@.luke;"EyeFone just //looks// better. It's cleaner."@@ @@.samantha;"You sound like you're reading from a marketing copy,"@@ Samantha says, rolling her eyes. @@.luke;"I don't need to read anything,"@@ Luke insists. @@.luke;"I'm living the eyeFone dream."@@ @@.samantha;"You don't know anything about it,"@@ Samantha insists. @@.samantha;"You just like it 'cause it's a status symbol."@@ @@.player;"Luke,"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.luke;"Okay, fine, it's a //little// status symbol,"@@ Luke admits. @@.luke;"But that's not really the point! The point is that everyone knows it's good. It just //works//."@@ @@.samantha;"Everyone knows it's expensive,"@@ Samantha says, leaning forward. @@.samantha;"That's different."@@ Luke shrugs. @@.luke;"Good things are expensive."@@ Samantha makes a noise like she's in pain. @@.samantha;"No. It's not. Anderloid phones have better hardware options, open systems, actual customization. You can do ''so'' much."@@ @@.luke;"Customization is cringe,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Why would you even want your phone to look like that?"@@ @@.samantha;"Like what?"@@ Samantha asks, eyes widening. @@.luke;"Like a gamer phone,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Anderloid phones are all RGB and glowing and play dubstep."@@ @@.samantha;"Luke, there are many different companies that make Anderloid phones,"@@ Samantha argues. @@.samantha;"There are ones that look sleek, too. You can change your wallpaper on any phone."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, but eyeFone users only have normal wallpapers,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Like a sunset or a dog, that's normal. Anderloid users are these weird nerds that have weird phones and weird backgrounds."@@ @@.player;"Of course you'd mention a dog,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.samantha;"Anderloid is objectively better because it lets you do what you want with your phone,"@@ Samantha continues. @@.samantha;"You can even jailbreak it."@@ @@.luke;"Jailbreak?"@@ Luke asks, squintng. @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ Samantha says, with smug confidence. @@.samantha;"Jailbreak. Root access. Full control. You can remove the restrictions, install custom firmware–"@@ Luke blinks slowly. @@.luke;"But why would I //want// to do that."@@ You choke a little on your food, laughing. @@.player;"I mean, you're not wrong."@@ @@.samantha;"I mean... most people don't do that, but it's nice to have,"@@ Samantha sputters. @@.luke;"I'd rather just have something that works,"@@ Luke murmurs. @@.player;"You know what, let me ask you something, Samantha,"@@ you begin, deciding to stir the pot because you deserve entertainment. @@.player;"Let's say I jailbreak my Anderloid. Then what?"@@ Samantha's eyes light up. @@.samantha;"Then you can do literally anything. You can run emulators. You can change your kernel too."@@ @@.luke;"What's kernel?"@@ Luke asks, curious. @@.samantha;"I can't be bothered to explain,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"You wouldn't understand."@@ @@.luke;"Try me,"@@ Luke says. @@.samantha;"It's like... the core system layer of the operating system that controls how your phone talks to the hardware."@@ @@.luke;"Why would I need to change that?"@@ Luke asks. @@.samantha;"Uhh."@@ @@.luke;"Exactly,"@@ Luke says, smirking. @@.luke;"Nobody cares about the phone's insides. People care about what it looks like when you pull it out."@@ @@.samantha;"You mean when you put it on the table so people can see the logo,"@@ Samantha argues. @@.luke;"That's right!"@@ Luke says, not even denying it. @@.player;"So your argument is that eyeFone is better because it's basically jewelry,"@@ you say, stirring the pot further. @@.luke;"Yes! If you have an eyeFone, people will know you have taste."@@ @@.samantha;"Nobody thinks that,"@@ Samantha says, snorting. @@.samantha;"They'll think your parents bought you a phone."@@ Luke looks offended. @@.luke;"I bought this with my own money."@@ Samantha's eyes narrow. @@.samantha;"From what job?"@@ Luke hesitates. @@.luke;"From... saving."@@ @@.samantha;"Saving what?"@@ Samantha demands. @@.samantha;"Your allowance?"@@ @@.luke;"That still counts!"@@ Luke insists. @@.player;"Luke is a self-made businessman,"@@ you state. @@.luke;"That's right!"@@ Samantha shakes her head like she's trying to shake the stupidity out of the air. @@.samantha;"Also, Anderloid is much more repairable. You can replace parts and swap batteries."@@ @@.luke;"Who is doing phone surgery at home?"@@ Luke asks. @@.samantha;"I would if I could,"@@ Samantha says proudly. @@.luke;"So you haven't yet,"@@ Luke observes. @@.luke;"You're arguing about a thing you haven't done. Have you even actually changed the colonel?"@@ @@.samantha;"It's the principle,"@@ Samantha snaps. @@.samantha;"These eyeFones are locked the fuck down. They don't allow true customization. They limit freedom. They're basically a fancy prison."@@ @@.luke;"But breaking out of jail is illegal, so you're not meant to jailbreak either,"@@ Luke observes. @@.samantha;"That's not what it means,"@@ Samantha says, glaring. @@.player;"Okay, but Luke has a point,"@@ you say, trying to mix things up. @@.player;"Most people don't need to swap out batteries or change their phone's operating system. They just want something simple that works and looks good, which is eyeFone."@@ @@.samantha;"$name,"@@ Samantha says, looking betrayed. Meanwhile, Luke is thrilled. @@.luke;"That's what I've been saying."@@ Samantha shakes her head violently. @@.samantha;"You're both so... so... UGH! You don't understand. It's about freedom. It's about not being controlled."@@ @@.luke;"It's about you wanting to feel superior about something as small as what phone you use,"@@ Luke deadpans. Samantha's jaw drops. @@.samantha;"Excuse me?"@@ @@.luke;"I'm just saying that normal people just use whatever phone they want to use and don't care about other people."@@ You decide to play Samantha's side now because it's funnier that way. @@.player;"Okay, Samantha, to be fair, Anderloid does give you a lot more control over the device you own."@@ @@.samantha;"Thank you,"@@ Samantha says, relaxing a little. @@.luke;"I don't want my phone to have firmware,"@@ Luke insists. @@.luke;"That sounds scary. Like a disease or something."@@ @@.samantha;"You already ''have'' firmware,"@@ Samantha snaps. @@.samantha;"You just don't know because you don't know anything."@@ Luke looks at you, hurt. @@.luke;"$name, am I dumb?"@@ You pause, considering your life choices, then say carefully, @@.player;"You're.... you're Luke."@@ @@.luke;"That's so true,"@@ Luke says, smiling. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, $name, choose a damn side,"@@ Samantha says, voice firm. @@.samantha;"EyeFone or Anderloid?"@@ @@.luke;"Which one do you prefer?"@@ Luke asks, leaning forward. Both of them stare at you intensely. <<button "EyeFone" "Day 24 - 5">>\<<set $d24phone to true>>\<<trackChoice "D24_phone" "EyeFone" "story">><</button>> <<button "Anderloid" "Day 24 - 5">>\<<set $d24phone to false>>\<<trackChoice "D24_phone" "Anderloid" "story">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D24Love4Ramen">>\ By the time the ramen is gone, it feels like a whole new day. The cups are mostly empty. A bit of broth and some stray noodles cling to the bottom, but that's about it. Your drinks are all gone, the condensation being all that's left of them. Jordan's Stripe can has gotten crushed somehow, maybe from his grip. Noelle's iced green tea is neatly capped again. You sit there on the curb for a bit longer anyway. The food's all gone, sure, but it's still pretty comfortable. The air is cool and the sun is nice. The audition, a source of stress, has ended. Now you can just... relax. Jordan leans back and stretches. He puts one arm behind his head, legs stretched out, and lets out a loud exhale. It's clear that his body's been holding in some serious tension for a while now, and he can finally let it go. @@.jordan;"Alright,"@@ he says, staring up at the blue sky. @@.jordan;"That went a lot better than I expected.'@@ @@.player;"The ramen?"@@ you ask. Jordan chuckles. @@.jordan;"The audition."@@ Noelle, who's been folding her ramen lid like origami, looks up. @@.noelle;"It really did."@@ @@.jordan;"I thought I was going to go up there and just blank,"@@ Jordan says, snorting. @@.jordan;"Or say the wrong line. Or hell, that my voice would crack. Imagine that. That'd be ''really'' embarrassing."@@ @@.player;"You, Jordan Brooks, feel embarrassment?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.jordan;"Hard to believe, I know,"@@ Jordan says, laughing. @@.jordan;"But I actually was super nervous."@@ You and Noelle blink in surprise. Jordan keeps staring up at the sky, cheeks faintly pink. You don't point it out though. He'd probably deny it anyway. @@.jordan;"Like... disgustingly nervous all day long."@@ @@.player;"Your leg gave you away,"@@ you say, smirking. Jordan groans. @@.jordan;"C'mon, don't bring up the leg."@@ @@.noelle;"I didn't even know you got nervous like that,"@@ Noelle says softly. @@.jordan;"I usually don't,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"I only get nervous about things I care about. Theater is one of those things."@@ Noelle finishes folding her cup lid. @@.noelle;"I see."@@ @@.player;"I was nervous too,"@@ you say. @@.player;"All day, actually. Luke and Samantha had to give me snacks to calm me down."@@ @@.jordan;"We just got ramen,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Seems like snacks help you out."@@ @@.player;"Jordan, I think snacks help //everyone// out."@@ Noelle decides to join the honesty club. @@.noelle;"I was... really nervous."@@ @@.jordan;"I can imagine,"@@ Jordan says. @@.noelle;"I thought I was going to... like... blow up."@@ @@.player;"Blow up?"@@ you ask, laughing. @@.noelle;"Yes,"@@ Noelle says, cheeks going pink. @@.noelle;"I couldn't think of any better word to describe it."@@ @@.jordan;"But you did it,"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"Did a pretty good job, too."@@ @@.noelle;"I kept thinking I'd embarrass myself so badly everyone would remember forever,"@@ Noelle admits quietly. @@.noelle;"But... I'm proud of myself. I wasn't perfect, but I think I was... alright."@@ @@.jordan;"Noelle, you did great,"@@ Jordan says, expression sincere. @@.jordan;"The only thing people are going to remember was a good fucking performance."@@ @@.noelle;"Really?"@@ Noelle asks, freezing up. @@.player;"Jordan, you've been nicer lately,"@@ you say, chuckling. Jordan squints at you. @@.jordan;"Don't ruin it."@@ @@.player;"So I guess we were all nervous, huh?"@@ you say. @@.jordan;"Very much so,"@@ Jordan says. @@.player;"Good thing we all made it out of the other end alive, then,"@@ you say. @@.noelle;"Barely,"@@ Noelle whispers. @@.jordan;"I hope we all got good roles,"@@ Jordan says softly. @@.noelle;"Me too,"@@ Noelle says. @@.noelle;"Nurse sounds nice."@@ @@.player;"I'll be happy if I'm not a bush or a tree,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.jordan;"I wonder if I did good enough for Romeo,"@@ Jordan mutters. @@.jordan;"Or at least Mercutio."@@ @@.noelle;"I'm sure you'll get Romeo,"@@ Noelle says, smiling. @@.noelle;"You're the best actor in our class."@@ @@.jordan;"I appreciate it,"@@ Jordan says, nodding. He seems genuinely appreciative of it. @@.player;"Imagine I get Juliet,"@@ you say. @@.noelle;"The principal would not be happy,"@@ Noelle says. The three of you slowly go silent, just looking forward. There's no need to speak when all of you are so comfortable together. But eventually, the moment has to end. @@.jordan;"We should probably go home,"@@ Jordan says, getting up. @@.noelle;"Yeah, I've got to go,"@@ Noelle says, looking shocked. It's as if she just remembered the concept of time. You nod, even though a part of you wants to stay in this curb bubble forever. @@.player;"Let's get going."@@ Jordan stands first and offers a hand to Noelle. She hesitates, but ends up taking it. He helps her up. <<if $jordanRomance > 19>>\ @@.jordan;"C'mon, $name,"@@ Jordan says, holding a hand out to you. You smile and grab it. He gently pulls, getting you to your feet. <<else>>\ @@.jordan;"You good, $name?"@@ he asks simply. You nod, getting up on your own. @@.player;"I'm good, yeah."@@ <</if>>\ @@.jordan;"Let's go, then."@@ <<button "What a day" "Day 24 - 41">><</button>>

<<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $bra to 69>>\ <<set $glasses to false>>\ The house has gotten quieter now that it's night. You're in your room trying to be an actual student for once. Your notebook is open, you have a pencil in your hand, and a ragged textbook that's been in circulation for a decade now is in front of you. Your laptop sits to the side with a random Wikipedia article open. It //was// open to a relevant page at first, but you quickly fell down a rabbit hole. You've been home for a few hours now since the ramen run. The adrenaline from auditions has finally worn off, and you're now trying to be productive. You're making slow progress, but it's still something. You're midway through writing a sentence when there's a knock at the door. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you say, glancing up. The door opens up a few inches, and your mom peeks in. Her hair is pulled back, and she's wearing this comfortable T-shirt. @@.mom;"Hey,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"Am I interrupting?"@@ You shrug. @@.player;"No, I'm just studying."@@ She steps in, eyes inspecting your desk. @@.mom;"Are you studying hard or are you hardly studying?"@@ @@.player;"The latter,"@@ you admit, snorting. @@.mom;"I have something for you,"@@ your mom says. @@.player;"Is it a lecture?"@@ you ask. She laughs quietly. @@.mom;"It's not, relax."@@ She walks closer and you notice she's holding something folded neatly in her hands. She sets it down on the edge of your bed, giving it a little pat. @@.mom;"So, I bought pajamas for Lily,"@@ she says. You blink, wondering how this relates to you. @@.player;"Okay."@@ @@.mom;"They were on sale."@@ @@.player;"Mom!"@@ She lifts both hands in surrender. @@.mom;"I know, I know. Don't start."@@ @@.player;"You always do this,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You see the word 'sale' and your brain just shuts off."@@ Your mom laughs, genuinely amused by herself. @@.mom;"It's true! I can't help it, though. I see a tag with a slash through the original price and I just need to have it. I become a whole different person."@@ @@.player;"You become the exact person these stores are targeting."@@ She nods. @@.mom;"Yes, you're exactly right. That's literally what I was thinking in the car. Like, I must be the perfect customer. They imagine me when they print those signs."@@ @@.player;"You really are,"@@ you say fondly. But then your attention goes back to the pajamas. @@.player;"Okay, but why are Lily's pajamas in //my// room?"@@ @@.mom;"Because they ended up being a bit too big for her,"@@ your mom says carefully. You stare. @@.player;"How big?"@@ @@.mom;"Not huge,"@@ she says quickly. @@.mom;"Just bigger than I expected."@@ @@.player;"You didn't check the size, did you?"@@ you accuse. Your mom looks slightly offended. @@.mom;"I checked it! I just checked it wrong. It doesn't matter, though, because she doesn't even like them."@@ @@.player;"Lily doesn't like the pajamas you bought her?"@@ you ask. @@.mom;"She said,"@@ your mom continues, trying not to laugh, @@.mom;"and I'm quoting her, 'Why would I wear this? I'm not a baby.'"@@ @@.player;"That sounds ''exactly'' like her,"@@ you say, snorting. @@.mom;"She was deeply insulted,"@@ your mom says. @@.player;"Okay, but what do they even look like?"@@ you ask, getting suspicious. @@.mom;"They're... cute."@@ @@.player;"That's not an answer."@@ She hesitates, then admits, @@.mom;"They're pink."@@ @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you murmur, realizing what's up here. @@.mom;"And they have a bunny on them,"@@ your mom adds, even though she knows she's digging the hole deeper. @@.player;"How am I meant to wear that, Mom?"@@ you ask. @@.mom;"It's not neon pink,"@@ your mom says, laughing. @@.mom;"It's soft pink."@@ @@.player;"I'm not sure that makes it any better,"@@ you say. She gestures at the pajamas, shrugging. @@.mom;"I thought it was adorable."@@ @@.player;"And Lily thinks it's babyish."@@ @@.mom;"She said the bunny is 'cringe,'"@@ your mom states. @@.mom;"That's apparently her favorite word."@@ @@.player;"She calls everything cringe, though,"@@ you argue. @@.mom;"I know, but she was adamant that this was 'hella cringe,'"@@ You glance at the pink bunny pajamas again. @@.player;"So..."@@ you begin, @@.player;"what are you going to do with them?"@@ @@.mom;"Return them, maybe,"@@ your mom says, shrugging. @@.mom;"Or donate them. Or, well, I don't know. I thought I'd just leave them here."@@ @@.player;"In my room?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. She nods. @@.player;"Why?"@@ @@.mom;"I'm just saying that if you want to try them on, you can,"@@ your mom says, smirking. @@.player;"Why would I try on Lily's pink bunny pajamas?"@@ you ask, snorting. @@.mom;"Why not?"@@ your mom responds. @@.mom;"There's no pressure, your current pajamas are good. But if you want to, it's there."@@ @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, not quite sure how to respond. @@.mom;"Anyway, keep studying,"@@ she says, lightly tousling your hair. @@.mom;"It's good for your brains."@@ Then she steps away and pulls the door shut behind her, leaving you alone with your homework and bunny pajamas. You stare at it for a second. You can imagine that they'd feel pretty soft. Probably comfier than the pajamas you're wearing right now. Shit, what the hell should you do? <<button "Try on the bunny pajamas" "Day 24 - 42">>\<<set $d24jammies to true>>\<<trackChoice "D24_jammies" "Try on the bunny pajamas" "story">><</button>> <<button "No, no, no" "Day 24 - 42">>\<<set $d24jammies to false>>\<<trackChoice "D24_jammies" "No, no, no" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d24jammies is true>>\ <<set $top to 30>>\ <<set $pants to 23>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24Bunjamas">>\ You try to go back to studying, you ''really'' do, but you can't really focus. Your brain keeps thinking about the pajamas again and again. You end up glancing at the corner of your bed, and the pajamas look harmless. They're just soft and pink and cute. @@.player;"Okay, okay,"@@ you mutter, getting up from your chair. @@.player;"I'm just... checking the size. Yeah, that's it."@@ You walk over and lift the bundle off your bed. The fabric is lighter than you expect it to be, and when you unfold it, you see that it's a full set. A top and a bottom. It's pink (not neon, your mom promised) and has many bunnies printed all over it. @@.player;"Lily's got no taste,"@@ you whisper to yourself. @@.player;"This is cute."@@ You peel off what you're wearing now, the same thing you've been wearing for, like, forever now. Then you step into the cute pajama pants. They slide on easily, and the fabric is insanely soft. You pull the top on next, and it falls into place perfectly. You look in the mirror and see that the pink, in fact, does not look ridiculous on you. Matter of fact, it looks good. It fits you very well. The bunny sits right on your chest, cheerful and cute. But then it happens. Something you haven't felt in a while now. A tingle going up your spine. @@.player;"Oh,"@@ you murmur, skin starting to prickle. <<set $nextScene to "Day 24 - 43">>\ <<button "Transform" "Transformation">><</button>> <<elseif $d24jammies is false>>\ You stare at the folded pajamas for a few more seconds, letting the idea float in your head. It's cute, pink, and bunny... but that isn't really for you. @@.player;"Nope,"@@ you mutter to yourself. You pick up your pencil again and focus on the page. There are still notes to do, and you don't think Mr. Cross will care about bunny jammies. Time to work. <<button "Continue" "Day 24 - 44">><</button>> <</if>>\

You take in a slow breath through your nose. You're still fine, it's just the $referto again. You roll your shoulders and flex your fingers to make sure you're alright. Luckily, you're just fine. Madame Serena's magic luckily didn't go haywire and turn you into a rat. You glance toward the bed where your usual pajamas are folded. They're safe and familiar, sure, but also kind of boring. You could slip those back on and pretend this experiment never happened. A part of you wants to do that. Just change back immediately. But part of you doesn't. Part of you wants to keep the bunny pajamas on. Fully commit, in fact. Just be comfortable in these cute pair of jammies. Which part of you is going to win? <<button "Change back into the usual" "Day 24 - 44">>\<<set $defaultjammies to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D24_defaultjammies" "Change back into the usual" "story">><</button>> <<button "Keep it on from now on" "Day 24 - 44">>\<<set $defaultjammies to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D24_defaultjammies" "Keep it on from now on" "story">><</button>>

<<if $defaultjammies is 0>>\ <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <</if>>\ You end up in bed with the lights off around midnight. You shift around a little until you find that position that fits your body just right. Ah, perfect. Today has been a full day. A pretty weird one too, you admit. But now isn't the time to think about the past when tomorrow is waiting. <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ Especially because tomorrow has cheerleading practice. You're going to be in the gym again, asking your body to do things it is absolutely not used to doing. Still, you're kind of lucky, aren't you? Coach Moore has only shown up once. If she appeared often, it'd make things a lot more complicated. <</if>>\ Your eyes close and you drift off to sleep. <<button "Sleepy" "Day 25 - 1">><</button>>

<<if $d24phone is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24EyeFone">>\ You don't even have to think all that hard about it. You smirk and begin speaking. @@.player;"Okay, okay. If I'm choosing? It's gotta be an eyeFone."@@ Luke's face lights up so fast it's ridiculous. @@.luke;"YES!"@@ @@.samantha;"Oh my God,"@@ Samantha says, looking disappointed in you. You hold up a hand before she can spiral. @@.player;"Listen. I have a reason. An actual reason, other than it being shiny."@@ @@.luke;"See?"@@ Luke says, smug. @@.luke;"He has a reason."@@ Samantha narrows her eyes at you. @@.samantha;"This better be good."@@ @@.player;"The ecosystem,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, eyeFone users and their fucking ecosystem,"@@ Samantha scoffs. @@.player;"But it's genuinely so useful, though,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Everything works so well together. It connects and then just behaves. I don't need to fiddle around."@@ @@.luke;"You're so right,"@@ Luke says, practically glowing. Samantha stares at you like you've been replaced by a corporate spokesperson. @@.samantha;"So that's it, huh? You're siding with the locked-down shiny prison phone because you don't want to learn how your device works?"@@ @@.luke;"It's not prison!"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"It's premium."@@ You snort. @@.player;"Luke, stop."@@ Samantha turns to Luke. @@.samantha;"You don't even know what premium means."@@ @@.luke;"Yes I do,"@@ Luke says, deadly serious. @@.luke;"It means people respect you."@@ @@.samantha;"$name, come on,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"You were supposed to be the reasonable one."@@ @@.player;"I am being reasonable,"@@ you insist. @@.player;"Most people would prefer all their devices to work well together than have to jailbreak it."@@ @@.samantha;"It's not about need,"@@ Samantha says, voice rising. @@.samantha;"It's about possibility. It's about not living in fear of restrictions."@@ @@.luke;"Look at how afraid she is of rules,"@@ Luke chimes in. @@.luke;"This explains so much about her."@@ @@.samantha;"I'm not afraid of rules,"@@ Samantha says, glaring at him. @@.samantha;"I'm afraid of stupid rules."@@ @@.luke;"People who make stupid rules usually have Anderloids."@@ @@.samantha;"What does that even mean?"@@ You try to mediate. @@.player;"Samantha, I get it. Anderloid is cool if you're into tech. But I'd prefer eyeFone's messaging app over all those weird features."@@ @@.samantha;"So you're calling me weird,"@@ Samantha says. @@.player;"I never said that,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Why do you seem so mad?"@@ Samantha leans in. @@.samantha;"I'm mad because you chose the side of ignorance."@@ Luke gasps. @@.luke;"Ignorance?"@@ @@.samantha;"YES,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"You chose the side of 'I don't want to learn.' The side of 'please control my device, big company.'"@@ @@.player;"You're being so dramatic,"@@ you say, sighing. @@.samantha;"You, Yoon, are being disloyal."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah, $name,"@@ Luke says, nodding vigorously. @@.luke;"Disloyal, man."@@ @@.player;"Luke, what?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.player;"You were just happy I picked your side."@@ Luke's face goes deadly serious. @@.luke;"And now I'm thinking about it. If you can betray Samantha, you can betray me."@@ @@.player;"That makes no sense."@@ @@.samantha;"It makes perfect sense,"@@ Samantha says, seizing the opening. @@.samantha;"You're so correct, Luke. Thank you."@@ Luke nods. @@.luke;"Yeah. We can't trust him."@@ You look between them. @@.player;"Oh my God. Not you two teaming up."@@ @@.samantha;"You did this,"@@ Samantha says, crossing her arms. @@.player;"I did this?"@@ you repeat, incredulous. @@.player;"I just answered your question!"@@ Luke points at you accusingly. @@.luke;"And you answered it wrong."@@ @@.player;"You ''wanted'' me to choose eyeFone!"@@ you say. @@.player;"Samantha's the one who wanted me to pick Anderloid."@@ @@.samantha;"I didn't want you to pick Anderloid,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"I wanted you to pick correctly."@@ @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ Luke says, now weirdly on the same side as her. @@.luke;"And you didn't."@@ You stare at them. @@.player;"So now you're both mad at me?"@@ Samantha and Luke nod in sync. You laugh because it's just so damn stupid. @@.player;"This is insane."@@ Luke adds, @@.luke;"How can I eat lunch with someone who doesn't share my values?"@@ @@.player;"You got done with your food before I even got here,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"Oh yeah,"@@ Luke says, having forgotten that fact. @@.samantha;"See?"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"EyeFone brain."@@ @@.luke;"Hey!"@@ @@.player;"Fine, hate me,"@@ you say, picking up your eyeFone. @@.player;"I'll be over here, using my horrible, evil, easy-to-use phone."@@ @@.samantha;"Enjoy being controlled!"@@ Samantha says. @@.luke;"Enjoy being //popular//!"@@ Luke says. @@.player;"Why do I even sit here,"@@ you murmur. <<elseif $d24phone is false>>\ <<grantAchievement "D24Anderloid">>\ You don't even have to think all that hard about it. You smirk and begin speaking. @@.player;"Okay, okay. If I'm choosing? It's gotta be an Anderloid."@@ Samantha's whole face brightens. @@.samantha;"THANK YOU!"@@ Luke's expression drops immediately. @@.luke;"What?"@@ You hold up a hand before Luke breaks. @@.player;"Listen. I have a reason. A real reason that the average person cares about."@@ @@.samantha;"See?"@@ Samantha says, smug. @@.samantha;"He has a reason."@@ @@.luke;"This is about status,"@@ Luke says, looking wounded. @@.luke;"You don't understand."@@ @@.player;"Anderloid just has so much more variety,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You're not locked to one company. You can choose different models, different features, different price points. You're not forced into one vibe."@@ @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ Samantha says, looking like she might cry tears of pride. @@.luke;"I thought Anderloid //was// the company that made the phones,"@@ Luke murmurs. @@.samantha;"You're stupid,"@@ Samantha says. Luke stares at you. @@.luke;"$name."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"Why would you choose the phone that makes you look like a weird loser?"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Imagine you got a pretty asian girl's number. But when you message her, she sees the green text bubble. She'll scream!"@@ @@.player;"Then I don't want that kind of girl,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"People will think you're strange,"@@ Luke says, shaking his head slowly. Samantha smirks. @@.samantha;"Who cares what people think?"@@ Luke slams his hand lightly on the table. @@.luke;"I CARE!"@@ @@.player;"And that's the problem,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"I can't believe you're being so mean and calling me shallow,"@@ Luke says. @@.samantha;"You are,"@@ Samantha says. @@.luke;"You're mean."@@ @@.player;"I mean, she's not wrong, though,"@@ you say. Samantha looks happy. @@.samantha;"See? Anderloid users value truth."@@ @@.luke;"No they don't,"@@ Luke says, glaring. @@.luke;"They value... spreadsheets."@@ @@.samantha;"The economy runs on spreadsheets,"@@ Samantha says. @@.player;"Luke, it's really not that deep,"@@ you clarify, because Luke's looking at you like you stabbed him in the back. @@.luke;"It is that deep,"@@ Luke insists. @@.luke;"$name, you chose the side of... of being complicated!"@@ @@.samantha;"That's a good thing,"@@ Samantha says. @@.luke;"No it's not,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Phones should be simple."@@ @@.samantha;"You're simple,"@@ Samantha shoots. Luke's mouth opens. @@.luke;"That was mean!"@@ @@.samantha;"What can I say?"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"I don't lie."@@ Now Luke turns to you. @@.luke;"And you're just okay with her insulting me?"@@ @@.player;"What am I meant to do?'@@ you ask. @@.player;"Defend you?"@@ @@.luke;"Yes!"@@ Luke says. Samantha throws her hands up. @@.samantha;"Oh my God, $name, you're so disloyal."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"Disloyal? I picked your side!"@@ @@.samantha;"That's not loyalty,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"I saw how you just chose whatever side feels most convenient for you."@@ @@.luke;"It's disgusting,"@@ Luke says, nodding. @@.player;"So now you're both mad at me?"@@ you ask. @@.samantha;"Yes,"@@ Samantha says. @@.luke;"Yes,"@@ Luke says. You lean back and let out a long sigh. @@.player;"Why am I the villain no matter what I do?"@@ @@.samantha;"Because you refuse to commit,"@@ Samantha says. @@.luke;"Because you, $name, are a traitor,"@@ Luke adds, equally dramatic. @@.player;"Traitor to what?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"We're talking about phones."@@ @@.luke;"You betrayed our friendship,"@@ Luke says, solemn. @@.player;"We're in a cafeteria,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We were arguing about inconsequential stuff."@@ @@.luke;"You think loyalty doesn't matter at lunch? That it's inconsequential?"@@ @@.samantha;"Lunch has truly revealed Yoon's character."@@ You start laughing because it's so stupid you can't resist. @@.player;"You guys are insane."@@ @@.luke;"He's laughing because he knows he's guilty,"@@ Luke says. Samantha pretends to slam a gavel down. @@.samantha;"GUILTY!"@@ @@.player;"Okay, fine,"@@ you say, picking up your Anderloid. @@.player;"I don't care, because I have the best phone right here."@@ @@.luke;"What a shame,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"He's stupid."@@ @@.player;"I'm going to eat now,"@@ you say, sighing. <</if>>\ <<button "Lunch is a time for debate" "Day 24 - 6">><</button>>

The phone argument eventually burns out, leading to another stupid conversation. You try to eat, taking a bite and chewing, but your brain doesn't stay with lunch. It starts drifting, thinking about the future. The cafeteria noise is fuzzy and the conversations around you flatten. Luke and Samantha are still talking, of course, but their voices are muffled. Shit, the end of lunch is coming, and after lunch comes gym. And right after gym? It's time for the Romeo and Juliet audition. You glance at the time without meaning to. Each minute is a small step closer. It feels like a countdown, and your heart is panicking. Your stomach flips again, and you don't even feel hungry anymore. You stop talking without realizing that you stopped. Your fork pauses midway to your mouth, then you set it down. You just... stare at your tray. Luke's still talking, something about his dad's beer, until he notices you're not reacting. Samantha notices first, though. She always does. She pretends she doesn't care, but she somehow knows everything. @@.samantha;"Okay, $name,"@@ she says, narrowing her eyes at you. @@.samantha;"What's with that look?"@@ You blink, suddenly realizing that you've been staring into space for a while now. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.samantha;"Don't 'what' me,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"You went quiet. Like, weirdly quiet. Not in the tired way, but in the 'I'm about to be executed' way."@@ @@.luke;"$name's about to be executed?"@@ Luke asks. @@.player;"No,"@@ you say, exhaling. @@.player;"I'm just thinking, alright?"@@ @@.samantha;"About what?"@@ Samantha asks, leaning back slightly. You hesitate, but they're both looking at you now, waiting. Even Luke has gone still. You're pretty sure he's already forgotten what you told him this morning. @@.player;"I'm nervous about auditions,"@@ you admit. Luke's face shifts into understanding. Samantha's expression changes too, as she realizes what the problem is. @@.luke;"You're nervous?"@@ Luke asks, quieter than normal. You shrug. @@.player;"I mean... yeah. I kinda am."@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"Just kinda?"@@ @@.player;"Okay, fine,"@@ you say, trying your best to glare at her. @@.player;"I'm nervous, alright?"@@ @@.luke;"You don't know how it's going to go,"@@ Luke says, nodding slowly. @@.player;"I don't even know if I'll get a role,"@@ you say, and immediately regret saying it. Not because you don't trust your friends, but because it makes your chest tighten when you acknowledge those fears. @@.player;"What if I freeze up? What if I mess up? What if–"@@ @@.samantha;"Okay, stop,"@@ Samantha cuts you off. @@.samantha;"Stop the 'what-if' playlist."@@ @@.player;"The what?"@@ @@.samantha;"The what-if playlist,"@@ Samantha repeats, like it's something everybody should know. @@.samantha;"Your brain is putting on the worst possibilities. Turn it off."@@ @@.luke;"$name, you're gonna be fine,"@@ Luke says earnestly. You let out a little laugh. @@.player;"That's easy to say."@@ Luke shakes his head. @@.luke;"No, I mean it. You're actually good. You say stuff in a way that makes people pay attention to you. That's literally acting right there."@@ @@.samantha;"He's annoyingly right,"@@ Samantha acknowledges. Luke brightens at the compliment. @@.luke;"Thank you!"@@ Samantha sighs and turns back to you. @@.samantha;"Also, auditions aren't some divine judgment of your worth. Whether or not you get a big role, we all still know you're a fantastic actor who did your best."@@ @@.luke;"They might not recognize your talent, but that's only because humans are dumb,"@@ Luke says, nodding. Samantha shoots him a look. @@.samantha;"Speak for yourself, man."@@ Luke nods. @@.luke;"I am."@@ Despite yourself, you laugh a little. Something loosens in your chest. You didn't realize how wound up you were until now. Samantha watches you carefully, quietly pleased. @@.samantha;"See? You're fine."@@ @@.player;"I'm not fine,"@@ you mutter, but it's weaker now. Luke taps the table lightly with his finger. @@.luke;"$name, you're gonna walk in there and you're gonna do your lines and everyone's gonna be so impressed."@@ @@.samantha;"Yeah, you're a 'woah person' sometimes,"@@ Samantha says, smirking. @@.samantha;"You do something and everyone's going to go like 'woah.'"@@ @@.player;"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Sam,"@@ you say automatically. Luke reaches into his backpack. You watch, curious but a little worried. Luke's bag is usually filled with random stuff and half-crushed snacks, after all. But he ends up pulling out a candy bar. Not a small one either. A real one. Wrapped and untouched. For Luke, this is truly a legendarily rare item. @@.player;"Luke..."@@ you say, eyebrows lifting. Luke holds it out like he's offering you something truly valuable. @@.luke;"Take it."@@ @@.player;"Why?"@@ @@.luke;"Because auditions are scary,"@@ Luke says, face painfully sincere. @@.luke;"And sugar helps. I love this candy, and it always helps me when I'm nervous."@@ @@.samantha;"Luke, are you okay?"@@ Samantha asks, eyes widening. @@.samantha;"Is this an act of charity or something? You ''never'' give up food."@@ @@.luke;"I'm doing something noble,"@@ Luke says. You take it slowly, like you're afraid Luke is going to change his mind and snatch it back. @@.player;"This is one of the most meaningful gifts I've ever received."@@ @@.luke;"Start eating it,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"It'll make you less nervous."@@ Samantha snorts. @@.samantha;"He's right. You need to stop thinking and start chewing."@@ You laugh a little before ripping it open, taking a small bite. It //does// taste really fucking good. Samantha, with a dramatic sigh, reaches into her own bag and pulls out a crinkly packet of hot chips. It's the one she's obsessed with. If you see Samantha, there's a good chance that a bag of these hot chips will be in her hands. She stares at it for a few seconds, clearly wrestling with her own soul. But finally, her morals win out, and she holds it out to you. @@.samantha;"Here,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"Take it."@@ You look at her, shocked. @@.player;"Samantha... you love those."@@ @@.samantha;"I know I do,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"That's why this is meaningful."@@ Luke gasps softly. @@.luke;"This is like... a friendship moment!"@@ @@.samantha;"Don't make it weird, Puke!"@@ Samantha snaps. But her voice is softer when she adds, @@.samantha;"Hot chips always make me feel better. So... they should make you feel better too."@@ @@.player;"Are you sure?"@@ you ask one last time. @@.samantha;"Just eat them,"@@ Samantha says, looking away. @@.samantha;"Don't cough and die, alright? That'll make me regret it."@@ You gently take the packet, because you're not stupid and recognize an offering when you see one. Luke grins. @@.luke;"Aww, look at how much she cares."@@ Samantha kicks Luke's shin under the table. @@.samantha;"Shut up."@@ You smile at the snacks. @@.player;"Thanks, you guys,"@@ you say, popping a hot chip into your mouth. @@.luke;"I gave you my best chocolate, so no more of these crazy 'what-if' scenarios, alright?"@@ Luke says. @@.samantha;"And if you start spiraling, I'm bullying you out of it,"@@ Samantha says. Shit, you might actually be able to do this. <<button "Auditions are here" "Day 24 - 7">><</button>>

It's the last block of the day, which means it's time for auditions. You put your backpack down before sliding into a seat. There's only a few minutes left until the bell rings, signaling the beginning of the class. Mr. Bennet will walk in, auditions will begin, and ohmygodyoudontwanttoeventhinkaboutit. You try to calm yourself down by pulling out the last bit of chocolate Luke gave you. You unwrap it and eat it like it's medicine. You take your time, since chewing kinda forces your body to stay in the moment. By the time you're all done eating, you're doing... a little better. A few students are already scattered around the auditorium. People are chatting, trying to memorize the script last-second, and practicing lines out loud. The door opens again. You glance over to see Jordan walking in with Noelle. Jordan is doing most of the talking, while Noelle listens. Her eyes dart around the room and her shoulders are hunched, like she's bracing for the horror of people noticing her. Jordan, on the other hand, looks calm. Key word being 'looks,' because the guy is not actually calm. His jaw is tight and he keeps adjusting his backpack strap. When he spots you, he walks over. Noelle follows, keeping close, using Jordan as cover from the world. Jordan drops into the seat to your right. Noelle carefully sits to your left. She's really careful to make sure the chair doesn't make a single noise. You look at Jordan's knee, which is bouncing like crazy. @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, surprised. Jordan's leg instantly freezes. @@.jordan;"What?"@@ @@.player;"You're nervous,"@@ you say. Jordan's eyes narrow. @@.jordan;"I'm really not."@@ Noelle says, quietly, @@.noelle;"He does seem a little nervous."@@ @@.jordan;"Noelle,"@@ Jordan says, looking at her in betrayal. She looks apologetic, but also kind of amused, smiling softly. @@.noelle;"Sorry."@@ @@.player;"It's good to know you always tell the truth, Noelle,"@@ you say, grinning. Jordan glares. @@.jordan;"Do not recruit her."@@ @@.player;"I'm just observing!"@@ you say, feigning innocence. Jordan leans back like he's too cool to care about all of this theater business. @@.jordan;"I'm fine."@@ Your eyes flick to his hands this time. He's gripping his pen so tightly that you see a vein. @@.player;"Jordan, you're holding that pen like it owes you money,"@@ you deadpan. He loosens his grip a little. @@.jordan;"Just wanted to make sure I didn't lose it."@@ Jordan's leg has started bouncing again, like it can't help itself. @@.player;"And your leg?"@@ you ask. @@.jordan;"Stop looking."@@ @@.noelle;"It's okay to be nervous,"@@ Noelle says. @@.noelle;"I... Well, //I'm// nervous. Who wouldn't be, right?"@@ @@.player;"Right,"@@ you confirm. @@.jordan;"I'm really not nervous, alright?"@@ Jordan says. @@.jordan;"This is just a stupid audition for a stupid play for a stupid class. I couldn't care less."@@ @@.player;"Theater is stupid?"@@ you ask gently. Jordan freezes for a few seconds. He clenches his jaw, thinking. Eventually, though, he relents, letting out a sigh of defeat. @@.jordan;"No, it means everything to me. I want this role."@@ @@.player;"See, that's honesty,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"How about you, Noelle?"@@ Noelle takes a deep breath, then answers honestly, @@.noelle;"I feel like the clock is ticking down until my execution."@@ Jordan blinks. @@.jordan;"That's dramatic."@@ Noelle gives him a look. @@.noelle;"I'm scared..."@@ @@.player;"Me too,"@@ you admit. @@.noelle;"I-I just keep thinking about every possible way I could mess up,"@@ Noelle says, looking like she's on the verge of tears. @@.jordan;"Don't,"@@ Jordan says, knee bouncing faster. Noelle looks up. @@.noelle;"That was not helpful."@@ @@.jordan;"I mean that you shouldn't spiral,"@@ Jordan says. Noelle's expression softens a little, because she knows what he meant. @@.noelle;"I'm trying."@@ @@.player;"How nervous are we all?"@@ you ask. @@.noelle;"Like, a ten,"@@ Noelle says, giggling lightly. @@.jordan;"Do I have to be honest?"@@ Jordan asks. @@.player;"Yes,"@@ you say. Jordan runs his hands down his face, groaning. @@.jordan;"Fine. This is the most nervous I've ever been. So a ten for me too."@@ @@.noelle;"What about you, $name?"@@ Noelle asks. @@.player;"Ten,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.jordan;"So we're all super nervous, but trying to convince each other to not be nervous?"@@ Jordan says, his lips twitching a little in amusement. @@.player;"I guess we are,"@@ you say. Jordan lets out an actual laugh, clapping his hands together. @@.jordan;"I love that."@@ You take a deep breath. Now would be a good time to say something. <<button "Let's make a deal together" "Day 24 - 8">>\<<set $d24preaudition to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D24_preaudition" "Let's make a deal together" "story">><</button>> <<button "We've practiced and we'll all do our best" "Day 24 - 8">>\<<set $d24preaudition to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D24_preaudition" "We've practiced and we'll all do our best" "story">><</button>> <<button "If it goes badly, at least we'll have a funny story later" "Day 24 - 8">>\<<set $d24preaudition to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D24_preaudition" "If it goes badly, at least we'll have a funny story later" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d24preaudition is 0>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 10, 0, 100)>>\ You take a deep breath and look between them, making sure you have their attention. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"Let's strike a deal."@@ @@.jordan;"What kind of deal?"@@ Jordan asks, raising an eyebrow. @@.noelle;"Is it a good deal?"@@ Noelle asks, kind of wary. @@.noelle;"If it's good, that would be... good. Good..."@@ @@.player;"We'll stick together the whole time,"@@ you say. Jordan squints. @@.jordan;"Like, during auditions?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, during auditions,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We won't split up and disappear into our own heads. We won't pretend we're fine when we're really not. We'll go into auditions together and leave together."@@ Noelle lets out a small exhale. @@.noelle;"Leave together,"@@ she repeats. @@.jordan;"What if Mr. Bennet calls us in at different times?"@@ Jordan asks. He tries to play it cool, but his voice is wavering a little. @@.player;"We'll stick together anyway,"@@ you say. @@.player;"If you go in first, the other two wait outside the door. If I go in first, you two wait. If Noelle goes in first–"@@ @@.noelle;"Don't say that!"@@ Noelle says, panicking. @@.player;"Look, no matter when you go in, we'll be right there when you come out,"@@ you say softly. Jordan's knee calms down a little, no longer bouncing like a crazed bunny. @@.jordan;"That's actually not a stupid idea,"@@ he murmurs. @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you say, smiling. @@.player;"High praise coming from you."@@ Noelle nods quickly. @@.noelle;"I like the idea. It makes it feel less scary. I won't be alone."@@ @@.player;"Exactly,"@@ you say. @@.player;"it's still scary, but at least we won't be lonely."@@ @@.jordan;"So what you're saying is that we're a pack?"@@ Jordan says casually. @@.player;"We are a pack,"@@ you confirm. Noelle's mouth twitches. @@.noelle;"Are we wolves?"@@ @@.jordan;"I am not a wolf,"@@ Jordan says chuckling. @@.player;"You absolutely are a wolf,"@@ you say. @@.player;"The lone wolf aesthetic and that posture? C'mon now."@@ Jordan opens his mouth to deny it, then closes it. @@.jordan;"Shut up."@@ @@.noelle;"I agree to the deal!"@@ Noelle says, smiling a little. Jordan looks at you again, then nods. @@.jordan;"Deal."@@ You hold out your hand, not even thinking. Noelle hesitates before placing her hand on yours lightly. Jordan stares at your hands like it's ridiculous, then with exaggerated annoyance, sticks his hand on top anyway. @@.player;"It's a deal,"@@ you say. Jordan, pretending not to like it, mutters, @@.jordan;"Yeah, yeah."@@ And after that, you all feel calmer. <<elseif $d24preaudition is 1>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You take a breath and go for the most reasonable thing you can say, because reason can be what the room needs. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, trying to keep your tone grounded. @@.player;"We've all practiced and we all know what we're doing."@@ Jordan gives you a doubtful look that says "do we?" He doesn't interrupt, though. Noelle watches you closely, desperate for some calming words. @@.player;"We're going to go in, and we're going to do our best,"@@ you continue. @@.player;"It might not be perfect or mind-blowing, but it'll be our very best. And that's all we can ask from ourselves."@@ Noelle nods slowly, like she wants to believe it. @@.noelle;"I mean... that is true."@@ Jordan doesn't seem that happy. @@.jordan;"Doing your best doesn't guarantee anything, though. Sometimes your best isn't enough."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But it gives you the best chance. And it means that whatever happens, you can walk out and say you actually tried."@@ @@.noelle;"I do want to be able to say that,"@@ Noelle whispers. Jordan's knee bounces once before settling. He looks forward, like he's thinking about his own audition. @@.player;"The auditions go fast, too,"@@ you say. @@.player;"It's just a few minutes, then it's done. Over. We can put it in the past instead of worrying about it in the future."@@ Noelle exhales shakily. @@.noelle;"Thank God."@@ Jordan snorts. @@.jordan;"Yeah. Thank God."@@ @@.player;"So we're all gonna show up, do the thing, and do it well. Got it?"@@ you say. Noelle nods. @@.noelle;"Okay."@@ Jordan nods too. @@.jordan;"Alright."@@ It helps. Not massively, but it helps everyone from spiraling. You consider that a win. <<elseif $d24preaudition is 2>>\ <<set $jordanRelo to Math.clamp($jordanRelo - 3, 0, 100)>>\ You try to go for humor. It could work, right? If you're all laughing, there's no time to be nervous. @@.player;"Okay, I don't think this is even something worth being that scared about,"@@ you say with a forced grin. @@.player;"Worst-case scenario, if it goes super badly, we'll at least have a funny story to tell later."@@ Jordan's face goes blank while Noelle's eyes widen. You just fucked up. You just planted the idea that it could go badly into their brains now. Yet another "what-if" for the brain to panic over. Noelle's voice turns small. @@.noelle;"A funny... story?"@@ @@.jordan;"Why would you say that?"@@ Jordan asks, seeming genuinely confused. @@.player;"I didn't mean that,"@@ you start, backpedaling fast. @@.player;"I mean that if something weird happens. Not bad, just harmless weird."@@ @@.noelle;"Now I'm imagining something weird happening,"@@ Noelle whispers, petrified. Jordan's knee starts bouncing again, even harder. @@.jordan;"Now I'm imagining you doing something weird."@@ @@.player;"Okay, I didn't mean that!"@@ you say, trying to fix it, but it's too late. The thought is out. It's ''alive''. @@.noelle;"Wait... what if I //am// the funny story?"@@ Noelle asks, staring at the floor. @@.player;"You won't be!"@@ you say desperately. @@.jordan;"This was not the move, $name,"@@ Jordan says, voice flat. @@.player;"I'm sorry,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That really was not the right thing to say."@@ Noelle lets out a tiny breath that sounds like she's trying not to cry. @@.noelle;"I ''hate'' funny stories."@@ Jordan glares at you. @@.jordan;"I don't know if we can ever let you pep talk again."@@ You sink deep into your chair, wincing. @@.player;"Fair."@@ The room doesn't explode or anything, but you can feel that Jordan and Noelle's nerves have wound even tighter. Shit. <</if>>\ <<button "Auditions soon!" "Day 24 - 9">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D24AuditionBegin">>\ The bell rings like a starting gun. The sound cuts straight through the room and yanks everyone's attention into the present. You can feel the tension spike. People sit up, scripts are gripped onto tightly, and the air feels heavier. And then Mr. Bennet strides in as if this is the best day of his life. This is not just him being in a good mood or anything like that. He's literally ''giddy'', like a kid on Christmas day. His eyes are bright, he walks quickly, and his smile is wide. @@.boy;"Good evening!"@@ he says loudly. @@.boy;"Isn't today excellent? Look at all these faces. I could feel the nerves from the hallway."@@ A few people laugh weakly, but it's out of obligation. @@.boy;"This is what I like seeing from you all,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, clapping his hands. @@.boy;"If you weren't nervous, I'd worry you didn't care. And if you didn't care, well, I'd worry you didn't care. And we can't have that happening, can we?"@@ You glance around. Jordan is trying to look like he couldn't care less while his entire body is screaming. Noelle is sitting very still, as if any movement would reveal she's panicking. Your stomach is doing flips faster than an Olympic gymnast. Mr. Bennet sets his papers down, steps forward, and beams at the room like you're all about to put on the performance of the century. @@.boy;"Today we audition!"@@ he announces. @@.boy;"Here's how it will go, and I want everyone to listen very carefully so that your imaginations don't start inventing extra steps."@@ He holds up one finger. @@.boy;"First: paired readings. Then, you're done. That's it. You don't have to sing or dance or run a hidden obstacle course."@@ A couple students breathe out, relieved by the simplicity. Mr. Bennet's grin widens. @@.boy;"I know some of you were expecting me to suddenly add a fourth step called public humiliation. I'm flattered."@@ Some mutters, @@.boy;"That's what it feels like,"@@ and a few people snicker. Mr. Bennet nods. @@.boy;"yes. That's because you are young and full of emotion and you haven't yet realized that embarrassment is just your brain trying to protect you from being perceived."@@ That's... true. You don't like it, but it's true. @@.boy;"Now, we're going to be doing the paired readings,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, flipping his long scarf. @@.boy;"You've all been preparing and practicing. I //did// give you the five possible scenes ahead of time for a reason. I wanted you to be ready, but not too ready."@@ Your heart gives a small thump. You remember the list he gave you. You've been rehearsing, trying to predict which one he'd pick for the audition. @@.boy;"I will now announce which scene we are doing for paired readings,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. The room stills. Even the kid who made the joke freezes. @@.boy;"But before I tell you which one I chose, I'm going to tell you which ones I did ''not'' choose,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, grinning. Everyone groans. Mr. Bennet laughs like the menace he is. @@.boy;"Yes, yes, I know. Suspense. Don't worry, you'll live."@@ He lifts a sheet of paper and begins. @@.boy;"First, the balcony scene,"@@ Mr. Bennet announces. A few people breathe sighs of relief, while others breathe sighs of disappointment. @@.boy;"Act Two, Scene Two is iconic,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, nodding firmly. @@.boy;"That's exactly why I //didn't// choose it. It's too common. It's too famous! Too many performing it like they're trying to copy a video of someone else performing it."@@ He makes a disgusted face, like he just tasted something foul. @@.boy;"It becomes imitation. I do not want imitation from you. I do not want to reward imitation. I want //acting//. I want you to put your own flair into the scene. The uniqueness that only you can bring."@@ He taps the paper again. @@.boy;"So the balcony scene? It's rejected."@@ @@.boy;"Act One, Scene Four also won't be included,"@@ he says, smiling. @@.boy;"The masquerade where Romeo and Juliet first meet. Why? Because it has masks."@@ Mr. Bennet says the word masks like it's the name of someone he hates. @@.boy;"Masks obscure the face. And yes, yes, I know. Body acting, vocal work, all of those things matter. But in an audition, your face is your instrument, and I'm ''not'' interested in losing half the performance to paper and glue."@@ A couple of people laugh. @@.boy;"The next one is Act Two, Scene Six,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"The one where Romeo and Juliet marry."@@ You see a few people blink, because that one seemed pretty likely to show up today. @@.boy;"It's a very passionate scene, isn't it?"@@ he says, tone upbeat. @@.boy;"They're so madly in love they call Friar Laurence in to get married as soon as possible. But I've seen too many auditions where someone thinks 'passion' means 'overacting.'"@@ @@.boy;"Ouch,"@@ someone in the back whispers. @@.boy;"The last one to be rejected is Act Five, Scene Three,"@@ Mr. Bennet says seriously. @@.boy;"The tomb scene at the end. The tragedy."@@ He pauses, letting everyone settle before speaking again. @@.boy;"It is powerful and it is famous. It is //also// a scene that involved suicide, and in a high school setting, that often ends up in melodrama or discomfort."@@ @@.boy;"I'm not interested in testing who can cry the hardest in front of their classmates,"@@ Mr. Bennet says, spreading his hands. @@.boy;"So, Act Five, Scene Three is rejected."@@ He lowers his hands, then looks up at the class with his eyes sparkling. @@.boy;"So, that leaves us with only one option, doesn't it?"@@ he says. @@.boy;"The scene that'll be used for the paired auditions today will be Act Three, Scene Five. Specifically, the beginning of it. The parts where Romeo and Juliet talk about whether the bird calling is a lark or a nightingale."@@ People instantly start whispering. Most are either confused or panicking. Nobody expected //that// scene to be chosen. @@.boy;"Now, you might be wondering why I chose Act Three, Scene Five. I chose it because it's not famous in the way the balcony scene is famous. It is not flashy. Nothing explodes. No one dies. Tybalt and Mercutio don't get murdered. No one throws themselves across stage dramatically. It's just two people in a room talking."@@ He holds up a hand, signaling to everyone to listen carefully. @@.boy;"Juliet thinks she hears the nightingale,"@@ Mr. Bennet says. @@.boy;"That would mean it's night, which means they still have time to stay together. Romeo thinks it's the lark, which means it's morning and he must leave. On the surface, they are arguing about a bird. But underneath, they are arguing about whether they can hold onto happiness for just a moment longer."@@ The room is silent now, clinging onto your drama teacher's every word. Mr. Bennet smiles like he knows he's got you. @@.boy;"That is why I chose it. Because nothing is happening, yet everything is happening."@@ @@.boy;"I want to see if you can make the normal dramatic. I want to see if you can make a quiet moment feel like a storm. I want to see if you can take a line about a bird and make me believe your world is ending."@@ He points to the class, sweeping his hand across the room to include everyone. @@.boy;"That, my young thespians, is acting."@@ A couple students swallow. Someone lets out a long exhale. Even the people who looked overconfident a minute ago are sweating. Mr. Bennet beams, like he's thrilled you're all terrified. @@.boy;"Good, this vibe is excellent. Now, I'm going to start pairing you off."@@ <<button "Act Three, Scene Five" "Day 24 - 10">><</button>>

<<set $day to 25>>\ You wake up before your alarm. Wrong, right? It feels weird as hell. You're usually struggling to get up even by the fifth alarm, and you got up ''before'' it even went off? What? For a few blurry seconds, you lie there with your blanket tangled around your legs, staring up at the ceiling and trying to figure out what exactly dragged you out of sleep. It doesn't even feel like you're awake yet, everything feeling slightly fake. The house is quiet. No footsteps in the hallway, no clattering from the kitchen, no Lily yelling at something. Just silence. That's the first red flag. The second is that you feel weirdly awake. Not cheerful or super refreshed, you're not insane, after all. But awake enough that it sets off alarm bells in your head. You do not wake up before your alarm on purpose. Not on a schoolday. If anything, your alarm starts a battle between the part of you that wants to sleep and the part of you that knows you have to wake up. You squint, grab your phone, and fumble with it until it turns on. The brightness stabs you in the eyes. You hiss and turn it down, then stare at the time for a long second. You're twelve whole minutes early. You keep staring at it, waiting for the numbers to rearrange themselves into something normal. But they don't. @@.player;"That's not right,"@@ you mumble. You go to your alarm app to verify that your alarm really is set. Yes, it really has not gone off yet, and yes, you really did wake up before it. That makes NO sense. Your first thought is that you're still dreaming, because that would honestly explain a whole lot. You pinch the inside of your arm to test. Ow. Still here. You flop back against your pillow and squint up at the ceiling. @@.player;"Alright, guess that really happened then."@@ <<if $lilyRelo > 35>>\ Suddenly, before you can even decide what to do, your bedroom door swings open without so much as a knock. Lily barges in, not caring at all about the concept of privacy. She's still in her own pajamas, wolfcut messy, looking annoyed at the whole world. She doesn't even look at you first, instead scanning the room. @@.lily;"Have you seen my–"@@ <<if $d24jammies is true>>\ She stops when she sees you. Lily's whole face changes, brain buffering. She stares at you. You stare back. Then her eyes slowly drop to the pink pajama top. Then to the bunnies on your pants. Then back to your face. For a full second, neither of you say anything. And then Lily snorts. @@.player;"Don't,"@@ you warn, immediately pulling the blanket over your body. @@.lily;"Oh my God!"@@ Lily says, voice already cracking with laughter. @@.lily;"You actually wore them."@@ @@.player;"I did not!"@@ you say, before realizing that's not the way to go. @@.player;"Okay, fine. I'm literally wearing them, so obviously I did, but you don't have to say it like that."@@ She steps into the room farther, looking over you with brutal little-sister scrutiny. @@.lily;"That is ''so'' embarrassing. You look like you lost a bet and had to put that on."@@ @@.player;"Why are you even in my room this early?"@@ you ask, trying to change the topic. @@.lily;"Well, I //was// looking for my charger,"@@ she says casually. @@.lily;"This, though, is way more important."@@ @@.player;"It's really not that important."@@ @@.lily;"Oh, it definitely is,"@@ Lily responds. She inches closer, like a shark who's smelled blood. @@.lily;"I cannot believe you slept in those."@@ @@.player;"I was tired, alright?"@@ @@.lily;"That doesn't explain it,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"You know those were supposed to be mine, right?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I kinda picked up on that."@@ @@.lily;"And yet, here you are,"@@ Lily says. She gives the bunny on your shirt another long look. You brace for another round of slander, but that's not what you get. @@.lily;"I mean, it //is// dumb. But it's kinda cute."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, blinking. @@.lily;"The pajamas,"@@ she says quickly, like she has to correct herself before she can be seen being too sincere. @@.lily;"Not you, obviously. Don't make it weird."@@ @@.player;"Huh?"@@ @@.lily;"I mean, it //does// look good on you,"@@ she adds, talking over you. @@.lily;"Like, to the point where it's a little annoying. That's rude, by the way. To steal my clothes and wear them well."@@ You stare at her. @@.lily;"Don't look at me like that!"@@ she says. @@.player;"Like what?"@@ @@.lily;"Like you're confused as to why I'm being nice."@@ @@.player;"You were nice for, like, a second."@@ @@.lily;"Yes, and I regret it."@@ You laugh, and Lily doesn't like it. @@.lily;"Whatever!"@@ she says, picking up your charger. @@.lily;"I'm taking my charger, by the way."@@ @@.player;"That's literally mine,"@@ you deadpan. @@.lily;"Hmm, I don't think so,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Bye!"@@ Your mouth hangs open in surprise. @@.player;"How will I charge my phone?"@@ @@.lily;"You'll figure it out,"@@ she says right before leaving the room. <<elseif $defaultjammies is 1>> She stops when she the edge of your bed, gaze landing on the bunny pajamas. They're not neatly folded anymore. They're not a disaster, sure, but they're definitely not untouched. The fabric is a little rumpled and one sleeve is inside-out. Her head turns very slowly toward you. @@.lily;"You wore it, didn't you?"@@ she says. @@.player;"No,"@@ you say, sitting up a little straighter. @@.lily;"Bro, look at that thing,"@@ Lily says, pointing at the pajamas. @@.lily;"What //is// that?"@@ @@.player;"It's called fabric."@@ Lily sighs. @@.lily;"Dude, it's called evidence."@@ @@.player;"There is no evidence,"@@ you state. She walks over and picks up the top between two fingers, lifting it dramatically. @@.lily;"Ruffled, disturbed, and slightly stretched. The vibes are suspicious too, of course. Detective Lily concludes that you wore it."@@ @@.player;"Okay, fine!"@@ you say. @@.player;"I tried it on, alright."@@ @@.lily;"Oh my God,"@@ Lily says, gasping. You try and save face. @@.player;"It was for, like, two minutes."@@ @@.lily;"You put on my bunny pajamas,"@@ Lily presses, eyes narrowing. @@.player;"How are they //your// bunny pajamas?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"You rejected them immediately."@@ @@.lily;"I rejected them because they were cringe,"@@ Lily says simply, as if that explains everything. You drop an argument. @@.player;"Then why are you here acting posessive?"@@ @@.lily;"Shut up,"@@ Lily says, realizing she lost. @@.lily;"This is funny. You tried on my pink bunjamas before dawn."@@ @@.player;"It's not all that funny,"@@ you murmur. She snorts and flops dramatically into your desk chair. @@.lily;"So? How was it?"@@ @@.player;"What do you mean, how was it?"@@ you ask, anxious. @@.lily;"I mean to ask if they were ugly or cute or if you cried because it awakened something,"@@ Lily elaborates. @@.player;"I did ''not'' cry,"@@ you insist. @@.lily:"$name... cried to... pink bunny pajamas,"@@ Lily says, pretending to jot it down. @@.player;"I mean, they were just..."@@ You stop, refusing to finish the sentence. Lily pounces on the opportunity. @@.lily;"They were just what?"@@ You look away. @@.player;"They were... soft..."@@ @@.lily;"Soft,"@@ she repeats, disappointed. @@.lily;"Of course they were soft. That's your defense?"@@ @@.player;"I'm not defending myself,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"That's exactly what someone who wore pink bunny pajamas would say."@@ You throw a pillow at her. She barely managed to catch it, then hugs it to her chest as she laughs. @@.player;"It's really not a big deal,"@@ you mutter. @@.lily;"I know it's not, and that's what makes it funny,"@@ Lily says. She calms down enough to look at the pajamas again, then back at you, her grin easing. @@.lily;"You know, they probably looked better on you than me anyway."@@ @@.player;"Did you just compliment me?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.lily;"Whatever!"@@ she says, picking up your charger. @@.lily;"I'm taking my charger, by the way."@@ @@.player;"That's literally mine,"@@ you deadpan. @@.lily;"Hmm, I don't think so,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Bye!"@@ Your mouth hangs open in surprise. @@.player;"How will I charge my phone?"@@ @@.lily;"You'll figure it out,"@@ she says right before leaving the room. <<else>>\ She stops when she spots the folded bunny pajamas. They're sitting exactly where your mom left them, still neat and untouched. Lily walks over and stares at them with visible disgust. @@.lily;"That is ''so'' cringe,"@@ she announces. @@.player;"Good morning to you too,"@@ you say, rubbing a hand over your face. @@.lily;"Why would Mom even buy these?"@@ Lily asks, picking up the top and squinting at the bunny. @@.lily;"This thing looks like something a kid would wear during nap time."@@ @@.player;"It's not that bad,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"Yes it is,"@@ Lily insists. @@.lily;"Just look at the energy. It has that energy, man."@@ @@.player;"You're just being dramatic,"@@ you say, sitting up a little more. @@.lily;"$name, they're pink!"@@ Lily says, as if that explains everything. @@.player;"Yeah, I can see that,"@@ you deadpan. She points at the rabbit. @@.lily;"And there's a bunny."@@ @@.player;"I can see that too."@@ @@.lily;"There did ''not'' have to be a bunny."@@ You huff out a laugh. You suppose the pajamas really are kind of ridiculous when viewed through Lily's lenses. @@.lily;"I'm being serious,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"This is an attack on me. Like, what does Mom even think of me? It's so disappointing."@@ @@.player;"You know, you're taking this very personally for someone who didn't want them,"@@ you observe. @@.lily;"Of course I didn't want them,"@@ Lly says, dropping the top back with disdain. @@.lily;"If I wore that, I would have to change my identity and move schools. What would my new name be? Chloe? Ooh, Chloe's nice."@@ @@.player;"They're really not that bad,"@@ you say instantly, defending the bunjamas. @@.lily;"Whatever!"@@ she says, picking up your charger. @@.lily;"I'm taking my charger, by the way."@@ @@.player;"That's literally mine,"@@ you deadpan. @@.lily;"Hmm, I don't think so,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"Bye!"@@ Your mouth hangs open in surprise. @@.player;"How will I charge my phone?"@@ @@.lily;"You'll figure it out,"@@ she says right before leaving the room. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ Your alarm finally goes off. You stare at it for a few seconds before turning it off. @@.player;"Too late,"@@ you mutter to yourself. With that victory secured, you get out of bed, rubbing your eyes to get rid of the sleep dust. You do the usual morning routine, of course. Bathroom, sink, toothbrush, all that. You leave the bathroom feeling a little more awake. It's time to get ready for school. <<set $closetp0 to false>><<set $closetp1 to false>><<set $closetp2 to false>><<set $closetp3 to false>><<set $closetp4 to false>><<set $closetp5 to false>><<set $afterCloset to "Day 25 - 2">><<if $hairtie isnot 0>>\<<set $currenthairtie to $hairtie>>\<</if>>\ <<button "Wear canon outfit" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 32>><<set $pants to 24>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<<set $outfit to 69>>\<<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\<<trackChoice "D24_outfit_selection" "Wear canon outfit" "customization">><</button>> <<button "Choose your clothes" "Closet">>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $outfit to 69>><<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Just wear something" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to 0>><<set $pants to 0>><<set $shoes to 0>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #1" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset1>><<set $pants to $pantspreset1>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset1>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset1>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset1>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #2" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset2>><<set $pants to $pantspreset2>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset2>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset2>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset2>>\<</button>> <<button "Outfit Preset #3" $afterCloset>>\<<set $top to $toppreset3>><<set $pants to $pantspreset3>><<set $outfit to $outfitpreset3>><<set $lowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarmentpreset3>><<set $shoes to $shoespreset3>>\<</button>>

<<if $d25aurorajessreading is true>>\ @@.player;"I think you should,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Look, worst case scenario, she gets everything wrong and we get a funny story out of it."@@ Jessica nods, successfully having been talked into it. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Yeah, it could be fun."@@ @@.aurora;"A wise decision,"@@ Aurora says, lifting her chin toward the chair. @@.aurora;"Take a seat."@@ @@.jessica;"Sure,"@@ Jessica says, moving around the table and sitting down. @@.jessica;"Ooh, I'm feeling some pressure."@@ You stay off to the side, close enough to watch while not being in the middle of it. Up close, the whole thing somehow feels even more ridiculous. The black cloth, the cheap chair, and Aurora's perfectly calm face. But at the same time, she commits to it so hard that it starts to feel convincing. Aurora settles into things easily. She doesn't rush or anything, instead opting to just lean forward slightly. She folds her hands and lets the silence linger a little, like she's waiting for the air to get dramatic enough. Jessica, who had sat down all bright and happy a second ago, is suddenly sitting very straight. @@.aurora;"Give me your hand,"@@ Aurora says softly. Jessica glances back at you for a second, then gives Aurora her hand. Aurora takes it carefully and deliberately, like every little movement means something. She turns Jessica's palm slightly toward the light, her thumb brushing against it lightly, then looks up straight into Jessica's eyes. Jessica lets out a nervous laugh. @@.jessica;"Okay, wow. This is intense."@@ Aurora doesn't break eye contact. @@.aurora;"You carry yourself like someone who likes being admired. But not because you're shallow, no. Because if people admire you, they don't question you."@@ Jessica's smile falters. Aurora lowers her gaze again, tracing a line across Jessica's hand with a fingertip. @@.aurora;"You're good at being what people want. You don't like letting people see the part of you that's messy. Yet, ironically, that's the part you want to show the most."@@ Jessica blinks. @@.aurora;"There's pressure around you at all times. Some of it is external. Expectations and attention. But a lot of it comes from you. You set the standard before anyone else can."@@ Jessica lets out a tiny laugh, but it's clearly because she's startled. @@.jessica;"That's... weirdly specific."@@ Aurora's expression barely changes. She turns Jessica's hand just a little more. @@.aurora;"And when you do want something real, something that isn't neat, you keep it tucked away. Not because it //isn't// important, but because it //is//."@@ Jessica goes still. The noise around the courtyard keeps going like normal, but it all feels far away. @@.aurora;"You're afraid of what affection might ask you to admit to the world,"@@ Aurora says. That hits hard. Jessica's face shifts into shock. She doesn't have a ready response for the first time. Aurora finally lets go of her hand. Jessica stares at her. @@.jessica;"How..."@@ She pauses, having to restart. @@.jessica;"How did you know that?"@@ Aurora holds the silence for a few more seconds before breaking into a smile. She completely ruins the mysterious mood, seeming very amused. @@.aurora;"There's no magic involved,"@@ she says, leaning back a little smugly. @@.aurora;"It's just ''really'' obvious."@@ Jessica stares at her in disbelief. @@.jessica;"What?"@@ <<button "What???" "Day 25 - 11">><</button>> <<elseif $d25aurorajessreading is false>>\ @@.player;"You probably shouldn't,"@@ you say. Jessica looks back at Aurora, pondering if she should do it or not, and ends up nodding. @@.jessica;"Yeah, probably not a good idea."@@ Aurora doesn't look offended, just folding her hands again like she expected that answer might happen. @@.aurora;"Another time, maybe,"@@ she says calmly. @@.jessica;"Maybe,"@@ Jessica says politely, though from her tone it sounds more like a no than a real maybe. You shift a little beside her, and Jessica takes that as her cue to move on. @@.jessica;"Good luck with the booth, though,"@@ she adds kindly before turning away from the table. Aurora gives a small nod. @@.aurora;"Good luck to you too."@@ Jessica looks at you as the two of you start walking off. @@.jessica;"Okay, see, that almost got me,"@@ she says. You smile a little and keep walking with her away from the black-draped table, leaving Aurora and her mysterious little booth behind for now. <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - 15">><</button>> <</if>>\

@@.aurora;"I swear it's not magic,"@@ Aurora says, leaning back a little with a lazy smile. @@.aurora;"It's just observation."@@ @@.jessica;"Observation?"@@ Jessica repeats, incredulous. @@.jessica;"That was ''not'' observation. That was, like, psychoanalysis."@@ @@.aurora;"You'd be surprised what people give away for free,"@@ Aurora says, shrugging. @@.jessica;"I'm subtle,"@@ Jessica says immediately, still a little defensive from having been read like a book. @@.jessica;"Like, actually subtle, mind you."@@ @@.aurora;"Oh, you are,"@@ Aurora admits. @@.aurora;"Compared to most people, extremely so. But I spend too much time watching people, thinking about them, collecting information, noticing patterns–"@@ @@.jessica;"Wait, hold up,"@@ Jessica says, holding a hand up. @@.jessica;"Did you just say you collect information?"@@ Aurora freezes. It's brief, but it's enough for both you and Jessica to see that something slipped. @@.player;"Oh my,"@@ you say, smirking. @@.player;"What do you mean by 'collecting information?'"@@ Aurora's eyes flick between the two of you, and she looks like she's calculating how fast she can escape. @@.aurora;"That phrasing was perhaps less ideal than it could have been."@@ Jessica narrows her eyes. @@.jessica;"Aurora."@@ @@.aurora;"What?"@@ Aurora says, trying her best to act innocent. @@.player;"You can't say you collect information about people and then expect us to just move on,"@@ you chime in. @@.aurora;"I can if you both choose maturity,"@@ Aurora says. @@.player;"What do you think about choosing that?"@@ you ask, glancing over at Jessica. @@.jessica;"Hmm, I'm not in the mood to be mature today,"@@ Jessica says. You nod. @@.player;"We are ''not'' going to choose that."@@ Aurora lets out an exhale and looks up at the sky for a second, as if she's asking some higher power why she bothered speaking aloud. Then she looks back at you both and reluctantly says, @@.aurora;"I have files."@@ Jessica blinks. @@.jessica;"Files?"@@ @@.aurora;"Yes, a file for everyone at school."@@ @@.jessica;"Everyone?"@@ Aurora hesitates. @@.aurora;"Basically."@@ @@.player;"Aurora, that is insane,"@@ you state. @@.aurora;"It's organized,"@@ Aurora says, for whatever reason. @@.jessica;"Do you have a file on me?"@@ Jessica asks, raising an eyebrow. Aurora doesn't respond. Jessica gasps. @@.jessica;"You do."@@ @@.player;"Do you have one on me?"@@ you ask. Aurora's silence answers that too. @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You're crazy."@@ @@.aurora;"That's not kind,"@@ Aurora says, smirking. @@.aurora;"I prefer to be called meticulous. Maybe an archivist."@@ @@.player;"Show us,"@@ you demand, stepping closer. Aurora responds immediately, @@.aurora;"No."@@ Jessica leans forward. @@.jessica;"Please?"@@ @@.aurora;"No."@@ @@.jessica;"Just mine,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"I deserve to know what's in it."@@ @@.aurora;"I'm ''especially'' not showing you yours,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Absolutely not."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"Okay, then mine."@@ @@.aurora;"No."@@ @@.player;"What about Luke's?"@@ Aurora's expression twitches, which is enough to tell you that Luke's file probably exists and is probably incredible. @@.aurora;"Still no."@@ @@.jessica;"Wait, Luke's would be ''so'' good,"@@ Jessica says, lighting up. @@.player;"I know, right?"@@ you say. @@.player;"Aurora, come on. You can't tell us you secretly keep files on everybody and then not show us anything. That's evil."@@ @@.aurora;"Well, I kind of //am// evil, so whatever,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Your words don't hurt me."@@ Jessica gets out of the chair and stands next to you, both of you fully united by the sudden and very important cause of annoying Aurora into giving up information. @@.jessica;"Aurora,"@@ Jessica says, trying her best to be persuasive, @@.jessica;"be reasonable."@@ @@.aurora;"I am being reasonable."@@ @@.player;"You're being unreasonable,"@@ you tell her. @@.player;"You're being really weird about it."@@ Aurora looks pleased. @@.aurora;"Thank you. I appreciate that."@@ You blink. @@.player;"That was not a compliment."@@ @@.aurora;"It is to me,"@@ Aurora says simply. @@.jessica;"Please, Aurora, just one file,"@@ Jessica says, her hands clasped together. @@.aurora;"No."@@ @@.jessica;"One peek."@@ @@.aurora;"No."@@ @@.jessica;"One sentence?"@@ @@.aurora;"No."@@ @@.player;"One adjective?"@@ you say. @@.aurora;"How would that even help?"@@ Aurora asks, staring at you. @@.player;"It could give us some info,"@@ you say. @@.jessica;"Okay, okay,"@@ Jessica says, deciding to try another angle. @@.jessica;"You already read me like a book. I feel that entitles me to compensation."@@ Aurora almost laughs. @@.aurora;"That's not how fortune tellings work."@@ @@.player;"You realize you're only making us want it more, right?"@@ you ask Aurora. @@.aurora;"I'm well aware,"@@ Aurora says, smiling. @@.aurora;"That's the whole point of this, really. It makes it fun."@@ @@.player;"You're the worst,"@@ you tell her. @@.aurora;"I'm proud of that fact."@@ You and Jessica keep pestering her anyway, talking over each other a little now, throwing out names, trying different strategies, and bargaining. Aurora refuses all of it with increasing amusement, clearly enjoying herself way too much now that the mysterious mask is off and she can just be annoying on purpose. Eventually, after enough begging, Aurora lifts a hand. You and Jessica both stop. Aurora sighs like she's granting mercy to peasants. @@.aurora;"Fine,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"One."@@ Jessica lights up instantly. @@.jessica;"One file?"@@ @@.aurora;"Yes, one person's file,"@@ Aurora confirms. @@.aurora;"You may see one."@@ @@.player;"One's all we need,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.aurora;"That is not all you needed,"@@ Aurora mutters. @@.aurora;"That is all you're getting."@@ @@.jessica;"Okay, then, $name,"@@ Jessica says, eyes bright. @@.jessica;"Who do we get?"@@ <<button "Luke" "Day 25 - 12">>\<<set $d25aurorafile to "Luke">>\<<trackChoice "D25_aurora_file" "Luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Samantha" "Day 25 - 12">>\<<set $d25aurorafile to "Samantha">>\<<trackChoice "D25_aurora_file" "Samantha" "story">><</button>> <<button "Vincent" "Day 25 - 12">>\<<set $d25aurorafile to "Vincent">>\<<trackChoice "D25_aurora_file" "Vincent" "story">><</button>> <<button "Jordan" "Day 25 - 12">>\<<set $d25aurorafile to "Jordan">>\<<trackChoice "D25_aurora_file" "Jordan" "story">><</button>>

The answer comes weirdly fast, once you and Jessica actually start throwing names around. At first it's chaos. Jessica immediately suggests herself, then takes it back because she's scared of what would be in her file. You suggest Mr. Bennet before realizing you're actually not all that curious about what he does in his free time. Jessica floats Tori's name, which gets Aurora to raise an eyebrow. You throw out Milo just to see Aurora's face, and she just stares at you disapprovingly. <<if $d25aurorafile is "Luke">>\ <<grantAchievement "D25AuroraFilesLuke">>\ Then Luke's name comes up. Jessica looks at you. You look at Jessica. And both of you know who it has to be. @@.jessica;"Oh, it ''has'' to be Luke,"@@ Jessica says, smiling. @@.player;"I agree,"@@ you say. Aurora, who had been watching this entire process patiently, furrows her eyebrows. @@.aurora;"Luke?"@@ she repeats. Jessica nods eagerly. @@.jessica;"Yes. Luke."@@ @@.player;"We want Luke!"@@ you say. @@.jessica;"We DEMAND Luke!"@@ Jessica exclaims. Aurora studies both of you for a long time, then asks, @@.aurora;"Are you sure?"@@ That only seems to make Jessica more certain. @@.jessica;"Absolutely, yes."@@ @@.player;"Very sure,"@@ you add. Aurora leans back. @@.aurora;"Well, that was a mistake."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What does that mean?"@@ @@.jessica;"Why would Luke be a mistake?"@@ Jessica asks, tilting her head. @@.jessica;"That makes him sound like he has some skeletons in his closet. Is he secretly dangerous?"@@ Aurora's expression stays completely flat. @@.aurora;"No. The problem is the exact opposite."@@ You stare. Aurora folds her hands on the table. @@.aurora;"The problem is that Luke is exactly what he appears to be."@@ Jessica lets out a small laugh. @@.jessica;"What?"@@ @@.aurora;"Believe it or not, I was suspicious of him at first,"@@ Aurora begins explaining. @@.aurora;"I thought it had to be a performance. He was too cheerful, too impulsive, too... uncomplicated. No one should be that much of a golden retriever naturally."@@ @@.player;"True that,"@@ you say, losing a bit of your composure at that. @@.player;"I find it hard to believe as well, and I've known the guy for most of my life."@@ Jessica nods. @@.jessica;"It really is hard to believe."@@ Aurora continues. @@.aurora;"So I looked into him more. I observed patterns and checked for inconsistencies. Looked for signs that the whole sincere football player with no brain thing was an act. But... well, it was not."@@ Jessica presses a hand to her mouth, trying not to laugh. @@.jessica;"Oh my God."@@ Aurora looks faintly annoyed that this is funny to you both. @@.aurora;"I'm serious. He's not hiding a single thing. He just really is a happy dumb dog in a muscular body."@@ @@.player;"I don't know why you're so surprised,"@@ you say, trying and failing not to smile. @@.player;"That tracks. Makes sense to me."@@ @@.aurora;"The final confirmation came from his father,"@@ Aurora says, letting out a loud sigh. @@.jessica;"His dad?"@@ Jessica asks. Aurora nods once, resigned now to telling the story. @@.aurora;"I happened to witness them together once after school. They both rushed to the convenience store inside of the gas station to get the limited 5 dollar pizza offer. In their hurry, they forgot the keys inside of the car, and they were locked out."@@ @@.player;"No way,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.aurora;"Oh, how I wish I was lying,"@@ Aurora says, laughing to herself. @@.aurora;"And instead of handling this like a normal parent, his father decided to try and get the keys with a coat hanger. They took turns, one eating pizza while the other tried to get the keys out."@@ Jessica is fully laughing now. @@.jessica;"No."@@ @@.aurora;"Yes,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"At the end, Luke's father got angry and just smashed the car window open with his fist."@@ That gets both of you. Jessica actually bends over a little, laughing into her hand, while you have to look away for a second because the image itself is making you laugh. Aurora keeps going, having committed now. @@.aurora;"They didn't care at all, which is the funniest part. They just went, 'welp, we'll get that fixed later,' and got in the car with their pizza."@@ @@.player;"Stop,"@@ you say, making a strangled noise. @@.player;"Why didn't Luke tell me this story?"@@ @@.aurora;"Probably because this isn't special to Luke,"@@ Aurora mutters, seeming disappointed in all of humanity. @@.aurora;"Something stupid like this seems to happen every day for him."@@ @@.jessica;"That is ''so''–"@@ Jessica starts, then has to stop laughing before she can finish. @@.jessica;"That is so Luke."@@ @@.aurora;"That was the moment I realized there was no deeper scheme,"@@ Aurora says, sounding very amused. @@.aurora;"Nothing hidden under the surface. No reason to keep investigating. Luke is just Luke, and I don't need any more proof of that."@@ @@.player;"Honestly, that's kind of beautiful,"@@ you say, shaking your head. Jessica wipes at her eyes, still smiling. @@.jessica;"It is. I mean, we learned nothing useful, but I'm weirdly relieved."@@ @@.aurora;"You learned that he is authentic,"@@ Aurora offers. @@.jessica;"I suppose that counts,"@@ Jessica says. You nod. @@.player;"I knew he wasn't putting on an act, but it's nice to have it confirmed."@@ @@.jessica;"Same,"@@ Jessica echoes the sentiment, nodding. @@.jessica;"The world would be worse if Luke turned out to be faking Luke."@@ <<elseif $d25aurorafile is "Samantha">>\ <<grantAchievement "D25AuroraFilesSamantha">>\ <<if $d18shop is 3>>\ @@.jessica;"What about Samantha?"@@ Jessica asks, glancing at you after. @@.jessica;"I don't really know her that well, but she seems interesting."@@ You look back at her. @@.player;"Interesting is one word for it."@@ Jessica smiles. @@.jessica;"I mean, every time I see her, she seems like she has the perfect comeback lined up. It's kind of impressive."@@ @@.player;"She'd probably call that a basic survival skill,"@@ you say, chuckling. Jessica laughs softly. @@.jessica;"See? That's exactly what I mean."@@ Aurora watches the two of you for a moment, then asks, @@.aurora;"You're choosing Samantha?"@@ Jessica nods, a little more certain now. @@.jessica;"Yeah. I kind of want to know more about her."@@ <<else>>\ @@.jessica;"Wait, hold up,"@@ Jessica says, turning toward you. @@.jessica;"What about Samantha?"@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"You want Samantha's file?"@@ @@.jessica;"Maybe,"@@ she says, a smile on her face. @@.jessica;"I don't know. She's funny and she acts like she's always in control, but sometimes..."@@ She trails off. @@.player;"Sometimes what?"@@ you ask. Jessica looks back toward Aurora's table for a second before answering. @@.jessica;"Sometimes it feels like she's putting in effort to stay that way."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I know what you mean."@@ Jessica nods once. @@.jessica;"Then maybe Samantha."@@ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Samantha."@@ Aurora is quiet for a second after the choice is made before letting out a small sigh. She seems almost reluctant, like she already knows this answer won't be satisfying in the way the two of you wanted. @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"Why did you sigh like that?"@@ Aurora folds her hands together on the table and looks at both of you. @@.aurora;"Well, because I don't actually know that much about Samantha."@@ Jessica blinks. @@.jessica;"Really?"@@ @@.aurora;"Really,"@@ Aurora says, nodding. @@.aurora;"She's harder to get a read on than most people."@@ @@.player;"That's kind of impressive,"@@ you say, frowning. @@.player;"You have a file on everyone in Pacific Crest, and you couldn't read Samantha?"@@ @@.aurora;"She always has a wall up,"@@ Aurora explains simply. @@.jessica;"That //does// sound like her,"@@ Jessica says, expression softening a little. Aurora continues. @@.aurora;"Not in a dramatic way or anything. She's not trying to be cold or difficult on purpose. But she's very good at deciding what other people get from her. Most people never notice how little they actually know."@@ @@.player;"And you noticed?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"It is, unfortunately, one of my responsibilities,"@@ Aurora says, giving you a look. You know what she means. The Lumin Circle. The conspiracy. @@.aurora;"I did look into her, by the way. I paid attention, watching where she went, what she did, who she was with. And most of it didn't get me very far. At school, she's still herself. With you and Luke, she's still herself. The sarcastic girl with a lot of bark."@@ @@.jessica;"So what changed?"@@ Jessica asks. Aurora is silent for a moment after that, and when she speaks again, her tone is serious. @@.aurora;"There was one time when I followed her out past the edge of the neighborhood and toward the woods. There's a lake out there, a pretty quiet one. Samantha went there by herself, climbed onto a rock, and just sat there."@@ Jessica's brows knit. @@.jessica;"Doing what?"@@ @@.aurora;"Nothing,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"Absolutely nothing. That was the thing. She just sat there on the rock, looking out at the moonlight reflecting across the water. She wasn't on her phone or even fidgeting. She was just... thinking. For a very long time."@@ Aurora folds her arms. @@.aurora;"I stayed there for a while, but it felt wrong to keep watching. I wasn't uncovering anything important, I was just invading her privacy. So I left and stopped investigating her. I had already confirmed what mattered, after all."@@ @@.jessica;"Which was?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.aurora;"That she isn't up to anything bad,"@@ Aurora answers. @@.aurora;"She isn't dangerous or fake in some calculated way. She just seems a lot more tired when she's alone. Sadder, maybe. Heavier."@@ You stare at the black cloth covering the table for a second, thinking about Samantha's face, her jokes, the way she seems to deflect anything before it gets too close. It's easy to picture her at school, laughing, but it hurts to imagine her sitting alone by the water in the dark, doing nothing at all. @@.jessica;"That's... really sad,"@@ Jessica says, letting out a small breath. Aurora doesn't disagree. @@.player;"I should check up on her sometime,"@@ you say, feeling bad. She's always there for you, but have you ever been there for her? @@.player;"Like, actually. I... should do more for her."@@ Jessica nods right away. @@.jessica;"Me too,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"That would be a kind thing to do,"@@ Aurora says, nodding. And for a moment after that, none of you really has anything to add. <<elseif $d25aurorafile is "Vincent">>\ <<grantAchievement "D25AuroraFilesVincent">>\ @@.jessica;"What about Vincent?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.jessica;"I've literally never, and I mean ''never'', seen him do anything except study. I'm kind of curious as to what he even does outside of school."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, that's fair,"@@ you agree. @@.player;"It'd be interesting to know more about Vincent. I feel like I don't know a lot about him."@@ Aurora starts laughing. Hard, actually. @@.jessica;"Why are you laughing?"@@ Jessica asks, confused. Aurora rests one hand lightly on the table, needing support. @@.aurora;"Because Vincent does nothing but study."@@ @@.player;"That cannot be the full story,"@@ you say, staring at her. @@.aurora;"It is,"@@ Aurora says. Jessica lets out a small laugh. @@.jessica;"No way. Like, actually?"@@ @@.aurora;"Actually,"@@ Aurora says, nodding. @@.aurora;"At first I thought there had to be more going on with him. Nobody can be that dedicated to academics, right? So I watched him for a while, expecting some kind of twist. A hidden hobby, or some weird side gig, or maybe even an underground gambling ring run entirely through calculus."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"That escalated really fast."@@ @@.aurora;"Once you've done this for a while, you learn to stay open-minded,"@@ Aurora says. Jessica is already smiling. @@.jessica;"So what happened?"@@ Aurora lets out a quiet sigh. @@.aurora;"One day I was observing him while he was studying, and I noticed the paper he was reading. I thought maybe that would be the breakthrough. Maybe it was coded or suspicious or some evil plan disguised as homework."@@ @@.jessica;"So what was on the paper?"@@ Jessica says, laughing softly. Aurora looks offended by the memory. @@.aurora;"Advanced math."@@ Jessica blinks. @@.jessica;"That's it?"@@ @@.aurora;"That was it,"@@ Aurora confirms. @@.aurora;"It was so advanced that I don't even know what kind of math it is. I read some of it too, for the investigation."@@ @@.player;"And?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"And it hurt my head,"@@ Aurora says flatly. @@.aurora;"Math is not my strong suit."@@ Jessica covers a laugh with one hand. @@.jessica;"You seriously stopped investigating because the homework was too hard?"@@ @@.aurora;"I stopped investigating because I had reached a conclusion,"@@ Aurora corrects, trying to retain some dignity. @@.player;"What conclusion?"@@ you ask. Aurora answers immediately. @@.aurora;"That Vincent is exactly what he looks like. He studies. Then he studies more. Then, if he wants to change things up, he studies in a different location."@@ Jessica laughs again. @@.jessica;"That's terrible!"@@ @@.aurora;"It is deeply boring,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"His file is nicknamed Study Boy for a reason."@@ That gets both you and Jessica laughing. Even Aurora looks pleased with herself now. @@.player;"Study Boy?"@@ you repeat. @@.jessica;"That is ''so'' mean,"@@ Jessica says. @@.aurora;"It's succinct and accurate, alright?"@@ Aurora justifies. @@.aurora;"Although... well, I //did// reopen his file about a month later."@@ Jessica seems confused. @@.jessica;"Wait, what?"@@ @@.player;"That's a plot twist,"@@ you say, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"Why'd you do that?"@@ @@.aurora;"Because I saw him one day and he looked genuinely furious,"@@ Aurora explains. @@.aurora;"Not just a normal level of annoyance, but really frustrated. It seemed like he was actively losing patience with himself."@@ @@.jessica;"Vincent was that angry?"@@ Jessica asks, blinking. @@.aurora;"Yes, he looked like he was about three seconds away from slamming his locker shut,"@@ Aurora says. You laugh. @@.player;"No way. Are you sure you saw Vincent?"@@ @@.aurora;"I was intrigued, obviously, so I reopened the file,"@@ Aurora explains. @@.aurora;"I assumed something major had happened. But... he got an A instead of an A+."@@ Silence. Jessica stares. @@.jessica;"Aren't they worth the same, though?"@@ @@.aurora;"Yes, they are,"@@ Aurora confirms. @@.aurora;"Any grade from a 93 to a 100 is considered a perfect score. The A+, 96 and above, is basically only there as an extra flex. It won't even be reported in our transcripts."@@ Jessica lets out a disbelieving laugh. @@.jessica;"You're kidding, right?"@@ @@.aurora;"I am not,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"He was in emotional distress over that."@@ @@.player;"So what happened to the case?"@@ you ask, smirking. Aurora deadpans, @@.aurora;"The case was closed again that same day."@@ @@.player;"And that's it?"@@ @@.aurora;"Correct. He has basically remained exactly the same until last week. But $name is already aware of that."@@ Jessica shakes her head, laughing under her breath. @@.jessica;"Study Boy really is the perfect nickname, huh?"@@ @@.aurora;"It is,"@@ Aurora says, seeming proud of herself. <<elseif $d25aurorafile is "Jordan">>\ <<grantAchievement "D25AuroraFilesJordan">>\ @@.player;"What about Jordan?"@@ you say. <<if $d22carconvo isnot undefined>>\ Jessica looks at you, then nods pretty quickly. @@.jessica;"I'd like to know more about him,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"I //know// I talked to him two days ago, but I still don't know so much about him."@@ <<else>>\ Jessica looks at you, then nods pretty quickly. @@.jessica;"I'd like to know more about him,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"I feel like I know nothing about that guy."@@ <</if>>\ Aurora raises an eyebrow. @@.aurora;"There's a lot more to Jordan than meets the eye."@@ @@.jessica;"Okay, that already sounds promising,"@@ Jessica comments, smirking. @@.player;"That is an incredibly ominous way to start talking about someone,"@@ you murmur. @@.aurora;"It's not ominous,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"It's accurate."@@ @@.jessica;"I mean, I get what you mean,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"He //is// kind of hard to read."@@ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"Very. He's cold to most people. Not in a dramatic villain kind of way, no. Just... like he doesn't care. And, to be fair, he really doesn't care."@@ You let out a quiet laugh. @@.player;"That is so mean."@@ @@.aurora;"But is it wrong?"@@ Aurora asks, raising an eyebrow. You can't really respond to that, because she isn't wrong. @@.jessica;"So, what's the hidden part?"@@ Jessica inquires. @@.aurora;"Theater,"@@ Aurora says simply. @@.aurora;"He has a serious soft spot for it."@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. Jessica turns to you. @@.jessica;"You already knew?"@@ @@.player;"I've known for a while now,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I was surprised too."@@ @@.jessica;"The rumors were true after all,"@@ Jessica says, something clicking in her brain. You glance at her. @@.player;"There were rumors?"@@ @@.jessica;"$name, you have to consider I hear everything,"@@ Jessica explains, giggling. @@.jessica;"People said he was secretly kind of a theater nerd, but I didn't know if I believed that. The Jordan I'm used to is just so... //Jordan//, after all."@@ @@.aurora;"A compelling argument,"@@ Aurora comments dryly. Jessica smiles. @@.jessica;"You know what I mean."@@ Aurora apparently does, because she continues without arguing. @@.aurora;"I found out by accident. One evening after football practice, I saw him still out on the field after everyone else had left. It was already dark. Naturally, I was suspicious."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean, 'suspicious?'"@@ you ask. @@.player;"He was just hanging out after practice."@@ Aurora ignores that. @@.aurora;"He was just standing there by himself looking down at his phone. Naturally, I assumed he was doing something football-related. Watching game tape or reviewing plays, maybe."@@ @@.jessica;"So, what was he watching?"@@ Jessica asks, leaning in a little. @@.aurora;"He was watching a livestream of a musical."@@ @@.jessica;"A... A musical?"@@ Jessica asks, genuinely perplexed. @@.jessica;"No way."@@ @@.aurora;"Yes way,"@@ Aurora says. @@.aurora;"He wasn't able to go in person that day, so that was the best he could do."@@ @@.player;"That does sound very Jordan,"@@ you admit. Jessica is still stuck on it. @@.jessica;"On the football field?"@@ Aurora nods. @@.aurora;"On the football field."@@ @@.jessica;"In the dark?"@@ @@.aurora;"In the dark."@@ Jessica puts a hand to her chest. @@.jessica;"That is... weirdly sincere."@@ Aurora gives a small shrug. @@.aurora;"I suppose it is. The guy really does seem to care about it. Not casually, either. He's really into it. I suppose my suspicions were correct. He //is// hiding something. But it isn't anything harmful."@@ Jessica narrows her eyes. @@.jessica;"What do you mean?"@@ @@.aurora;"He's hiding what he actually loves,"@@ Aurora mutters. Jessica makes a sound of understanding. @@.jessica;"Yeah..."@@ @@.player;"I was really surprised the first time I found out,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But after I saw him on stage for the first time, I realized it seriously fits him."@@ @@.jessica;"Yeah, I think it does fit,"@@ Jessica murmurs, looking thoughtful. @@.jessica;"Just not in the way I expected."@@ @@.aurora;"That's Jordan,"@@ Aurora says, happy with her reveal. @@.aurora;"A lot more going on than people assume."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "The Aurora Files - Complete" "Day 25 - 13">><</button>>

@@.jessica;"Okay, well, thank you for telling us,"@@ Jessica says, smiling. @@.jessica;"That was actually really interesting."@@ Aurra nods. @@.aurora;"You're welcome. You did, after all, kick up a fuss about it."@@ Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"Can you blame us? It felt important."@@ @@.player;"It //was// important,"@@ you add. @@.player;"We got so much classified intelligence."@@ Aurora snorts at that. @@.aurora;"That is a very flattering way to describe my stalking."@@ Jessica brightens, clearly already onto her next thought. @@.jessica;"You know, since you did us a favor, I think we have to do you a favor back."@@ Aurora blinks. @@.aurora;"What?"@@ @@.player;"I mean, it would only be polite,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Makes sense to me."@@ Aurora laughs at that. @@.aurora;"That's not necessary,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"I was having fun. Plus, I did get to laugh at Jessica's expense."@@ Jessica waves that off. @@.jessica;"No. We're doing this."@@ @@.aurora;"Doing what, exactly?"@@ Aurora asks, amused. Jessica gestures at the booth. ... In its current state, it's really not helping itself. There are just two plastic chairs next to a plastic table with a black tablecloth over it. The chair Aurora is sitting on has a leg that's bent and struggling to keep up. @@.jessica;"We need to decorate this,"@@ Jessica says with total conviction. Aurora glances around her own setup like she's seeing it through other people's eyes for the first time. @@.aurora;"I mean, do we really have to?"@@ @@.jessica;"Yes,"@@ Jessica says. You nod. @@.player;"This is necessary."@@ @@.aurora;"Well, I think the minimalism is part of the charm,"@@ Aurora states. @@.jessica;"It's part of the problem,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"I'm being serious. Right now, with the way this booth looks and the way you present yourself, most people are going to see this and immediately walk faster."@@ Aurora, surprisingly, does not look offended in the slightest. If anything, she looks quite pleased. @@.aurora;"That seems fair. Fear //is// part of my brand."@@ @@.jessica;"Exactly,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"And I'm sure that works for you, but right now it's not the way to go. This looks less like a fun reading booth and more like a... horrifying reading booth."@@ @@.player;"If you want people actually coming over, you're going to need more than the black tablecloth and weird tarp thing,"@@ you state. @@.aurora;"I prefer 'veil,'"@@ Aurora says calmly. @@.player;"It looks like a tarp,"@@ you shoot back. @@.aurora;"So, I suppose my booth is getting renovated,"@@ Aurora says, arms folded. @@.jessica;"Yes,"@@ Jessica says. @@.aurora;"Against my will."@@ @@.player;"You're outnumbered two to one,"@@ you tell her. Aurora sighs, but you can see that she's smiling. @@.aurora;"Fine. If I'm being redesigned, at least let me hear the concepts."@@ Jessica's face lights up immediately. @@.jessica;"Oh my God, yes, she's fine with it."@@ She turns to you. @@.jessica;"Okay, we need a direction, $name."@@ @@.aurora;"I still think this is too much effort,"@@ Aurora says, watching the two of you. @@.player;"What about something, like, celestial?"@@ you suggest. Jessice nods, having seen the vision. @@.jessica;"Okay, that's a good one. Option one: celestial theme. Starry backdrop, constellation, zodiac signs, moon stuff. All that jazz. Still mystical, but pretty and inviting."@@ @@.aurora;"That does sound marketable,"@@ Aurora comments. @@.jessica;"I think it keeps the mystery but in a fun way, not a way that makes it seem like you'll perish mysteriously after the reading."@@ @@.player;"That's an important distinction,"@@ you tell Aurora. @@.aurora;"I don't want people thinking they'll perish,"@@ Aurora murmurs. You're not sure if she's being genuine or not, though. Jessica lifts a second finger. @@.jessica;"Option two: witch's cottage theme. It'll be eerie, but in a cozy way. Old books, little spell jars, herbs, candles, potion bottles–"@@ @@.aurora;"Skulls,"@@ Aurora adds helpfully. @@.jessica;"Yeah, skulls can work,"@@ Jessica says. @@.player;"Fake skulls,"@@ you clarify. Aurora looks rather disappointed. @@.aurora;"Now that's no fun."@@ @@.jessica;"So, what do you think, Aurora?"@@ Jessica asks. @@.jessica;"I think celestial is cuter, but the witch's cottage idea has that cozy-yet-spooky vibe to it."@@ @@.aurora;"Cute isn't necessarily a good thing,"@@ Aurora says. @@.player;"It is when you're trying to lure in nervous freshmen for a reading,"@@ you say. @@.aurora;"Lure is such an ugly word,"@@ Aurora says, mouth twitching. @@.aurora;"I'm simply persuading them to come and get a cold reading."@@ So... which theme are you going for? <<button "Celestial theme" "Day 25 - 14">>\<<set $d25aurorabooth to "Celestial">>\<<trackChoice "D25_aurora_booth" "Celestial" "story">><</button>> <<button "Witch's Cottage theme" "Day 25 - 14">>\<<set $d25aurorabooth to "Witch's Cottage">>\<<trackChoice "D25_aurora_booth" "Witch's Cottage" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d25aurorabooth is "Celestial">>\ <<grantAchievement "D25AuroraBoothCelestial">>\ @@.player;"We should go with the celestial theme,"@@ you say. Jessica hums in agreement. @@.jessica;"Yeah, that's perfect. That'll make it feel mysterious without making it look like Aurora collects bones in her free time."@@ @@.aurora;"Interesting that you assume I don't,"@@ Aurora mutters. Jessica pauses. @@.jessica;"Well, do you?"@@ Aurora doesn't respond. @@.player;"Celestial just seems safer,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We can't have people getting freaked out."@@ @@.aurora;"Stars and planets,"@@ Aurora says, considering it. @@.aurora;"Sure, I can work with that."@@ Jessica grins and claps her hands, already moving into action mode. @@.jessica;"Okay, then we need to make it prettier. Right now it's still just an ominous table."@@ @@.aurora;"I believe I've provided a strong starting point,"@@ Aurora says. @@.player;"It's a table with a black cloth on it,"@@ you say. @@.aurora;"Your lack of imagination continues to wound me,"@@ Aurora says, letting out a disappointed sigh. Jessica laughs and starts looking around the courtyard like she's already spotting possibilities. @@.jessica;"Alright, we need anything that says celestial. Gold paper, silver paper, string lights, star shapes, zodiac stuff, all that jazz. And $name, you're helping. No disappearing."@@ @@.player;"I wasn't going to disappear."@@ @@.jessica;"You say that now, but you never know,"@@ Jessica says. @@.aurora;"I can see $name not helping,"@@ Aurora chimes in. @@.player;"This is offensive, you guys,"@@ you murmur. @@.player;"I'm an active participant in this vision."@@ @@.jessica;"Great!"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Go find us paint."@@ The next several minutes turn into a weird little scavenger hunt around the courtyard and the nearby activity tables. Somebody from another booth loans you white paint after Jessica smiles at them for five seconds. It feels like cheating, but apparently, it works. You come back carrying the paint bottle and two brushes. @@.jessica;"See? You're useful,"@@ Jessica comments, beaming. @@.player;"I'm always useful,"@@ you say. @@.aurora;"Bold claim,"@@ Aurora says, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"What did I do to deserve this?"@@ you murmur. Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"Okay, okay. Put the paint down."@@ Jessica dips the end of a brush into the white paint and flicks, tiny dots scattering across one side. It looks good right away, like a patch of stars. She gasps. @@.jessica;"Ooh, that's cute."@@ Aurora leans in, studying it with seriousness. @@.aurora;"It is pretty promising,"@@ she says. You take the brush. @@.player;"Let me go next."@@ You flick a few dots across another section of the cloth. Most of them come out fine, but one lands in a fat blob. @@.jessica;"That one's too big,"@@ Jessica points out. <<if $study > 84>>\ @@.player;"It's... a hypergiant star,"@@ you say, scrambling for an excuse. <<else>>\ @@.player;"It's... a really big star,"@@ you say, scrambling for an excuse. <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"Seems like an accident if you ask me."@@ @@.aurora;"No, no, let him cook,"@@ Aurora says, surpisingly on your side. @@.aurora;"Every constellation needs one star like that."@@ Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"Fine. Fat star can stay."@@ Once the white paint is dry enough not to smear everywhere, the three of you start adding more to the booth. Jessica finds some gold and silver paper from another decoration bin, and together you cut out little crescents, stars, and circles. Aurora ends up getting into it a lot, arranging the decorations in a neat row across the backdrop. You step back and look at it. @@.player;"Okay, this actually looks good now."@@ @@.aurora;"The original booth looked good too,"@@ Aurora says, trying to defend herself. @@.player;"I don't know about that,"@@ you murmur under your breath. Jessica is working on a second set of decorations now, writing out zodiac signs on dark cards. She holds one up. @@.jessica;"Do we want these hanging or spread across the table?"@@ @@.aurora;"Hanging,"@@ Aurora says immediately. @@.aurora;"I want people to feel judged the moment they approach."@@ @@.player;"I'm not sure if even our decorations can save us from Aurora's aura,"@@ you say. @@.jessica;"We'll do our best anyway,"@@ Jessica says. The three of you keep adding things. A string with the zodiac signs, a dark blue scarf along one edge of the table, a silver bowl that Aurora somehow found, and some tarot cards. <<elseif $d25aurorabooth is "Witch's Cottage">>\ <<grantAchievement "D25AuroraBoothCottage">>\ @@.player;"We should go with the witch's cottage theme,"@@ you say. Jessica hums in agreement. @@.jessica;"We should. It sounds fun."@@ @@.aurora;"I guess that could work,"@@ Aurora says. Jessica claps her hands once, already moving into action mode. @@.jessica;"Okay, perfect. That means we need stuff. Nothing expensive or anything, just props. We can fake this."@@ @@.aurora;"Wonderful,"@@ Aurora says sarcastically. @@.aurora;"My booth is now being rebuilt by people whose main qualification is confidence."@@ @@.jessica;"Aurora, I believe that's how all good decorating happens,"@@ Jessica says. @@.player;"Wait, will we be stealing these props?"@@ you ask. Jessica gasps. @@.jessica;"Of course not! We're just borrowing.'@@ Aurora smirks faintly. The next several minutes turn into a weird little scavenger hunt around the edges of the courtyard. You end up pulling old textbooks out of an abandoned supply box. Jessica picks one up, blows a little dust off the top, and wrinkles her nose. @@.jessica;"This one says Earth Science."@@ Aurora takes it from her, rubs some dirt on the cover, and nods. @@.aurora;"Excellent. It looks deeply cursed now."@@ @@.player;"You just ruined a textbook,"@@ you mutter. @@.aurora;"You lack the vision to make things happen,"@@ Aurora says, dropping the book in your arms. Jessica laughs and stacks two more books in your arms. @@.jessica;"Carry these too. They're ugly in a useful way."@@ @@.player;"Why am I being used for free labor?"@@ you grunt. @@.jessica;"It's a good thing,"@@ Jessica says brightly, patting your back. From there, the three of you keep collecting things. Jessica finds a small jar from some abandoned decorating bin, and you fill it with autumn leaves and a few bits of grass to make it look intentional. Aurora insists on arranging them herself, because apparently she has standards. @@.aurora;"This one should go in the back,"@@ Aurora says, plucking one red leaf out of the jar and rotating it. @@.aurora;"The yellow one should be visible from the front."@@ You blink. @@.player;"You have opinions about leaf composition?"@@ @@.aurora;"I have many opinions, and they're all correct,"@@ she responds. The candles come from another booth that Jessica managed to convince to hand over. They're the battery kind, which doesn't have as much aura, but it doesn't matter once Aurora lines them up between the books and jar and starts spacing them out. @@.player;"Didn't you say you didn't care?"@@ you ask as you set down another stack of books. @@.player;"For someone who said that, you're getting very controlling about this."@@ Aurora doesn't even bother to look up. @@.aurora;"I didn't care before it had potential."@@ Little by little, it actually starts coming together. The black cloth doesn't look so bare anymore once there are old books stacked at different heights, candles tucked between them, and the jar of leaves adding a bit of color. You sprinkle bits of dried grass and add some stray decorations to get a bit of good clutter in there. Jessica finds an old scrap of dark lace from a costume bin and drapes it off one corner of the table. Aurora seems to approve. Jessica steps back and nods. @@.jessica;"This is actually cute."@@ Aurora glares at her. @@.aurora;"Cute is not the target."@@ Jessica immediately corrects herself. @@.jessica;"Sorry. I meant to say that this is actually mysterious, moody, and slightly haunted."@@ @@.aurora;"Much better,"@@ Aurora says. @@.player;"Yeah, this is way better,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"Before it looked genuinely ominous."@@ @@.aurora;"And now?"@@ Aurora asks, smirking. @@.player;"I mean, it still looks ominous, but in a fun way,"@@ you say. Aurora looks pleased. @@.aurora;"I can work with that."@@ The three of you make a few more final adjustments, repositioning and rotating some objects. Right as you're nearly done, with the booth looking significantly better, Aurora pauses. Without a word, she ducks down behind the table. Jessica blinks. @@.jessica;"What is she doing?"@@ @@.player;"...I don't know,"@@ you answer honestly. Aurora reappears a second later and confidently sets a skull down on the edge of the table. You and Jessica both stare at it in silence. Shit, it's not even a cartoon skull or a glittery one or anything. Jessica slowly turns toward Aurora. @@.jessica;"Aurora... where did you get that?"@@ Aurora smooths the black cloth a little as if nothing unusual has happened. @@.aurora;"I can't say."@@ @@.player;"What do you mean, you can't say?"@@ you ask. @@.aurora;"I just can't."@@ You keep staring at the skull. @@.player;"Is that real?"@@ Aurora doesn't respond. Jessica's eyes widen. @@.jessica;"Aurora."@@ Still nothing. @@.player;"Aurora,"@@ you echo. Aurora remains completely silent. @@.jessica;"Oh my God,"@@ Jessica says, seeming genuinely concerned. @@.player;"You cannot just go silent after introducing a skull,"@@ you tell Aurora. Aurora just shrugs. @@.jessica;"I hate how it makes the booth better,"@@ Jessica says. @@.player;"It really does,"@@ you admit. @@.aurora;"I know it does,"@@ Aurora says, allowing herself a small smile. <</if>>\ The three of you step back together, looking over the finished booth. What had started as one black table now actually looks good. @@.jessica;"This is ''way'' prettier,"@@ Jessica says. @@.player;"It's miles better,"@@ you say, sharing the sentiment. Aurora looks at it with quiet pride. @@.aurora;"I suppose it's acceptable,"@@ she says. You glance at her. @@.player;"For you, that means you're thrilled, isn't it?"@@ Aurora smiles. @@.aurora;"Probably."@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - 15">><</button>>

By the time you're seated with Samantha for lunch, the cafeteria has gone insane. Everyone's eating, yelling, and throwing things. You slump into your seat, tired but relieved, having survived the first half of a school day. Across from you, Samantha is already halfway through her food. @@.samantha;"So, get this, I just watched a guy put ketchup on pancakes,"@@ she says, glancing up at you. You blink. @@.player;"That's not illegal?"@@ @@.samantha;"I believe it should be,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"He did it with such confidence too. Like he truly believed in what he was doing. That's the disturbing part."@@ @@.player;"Maybe it's one of those things that seem gross, but secretly works,"@@ you suggest. Samantha stares at you. @@.samantha;"You, $name, are exactly the kind of person who gets manipulated by confidence."@@ @@.player;"That has nothing to do with what I just said."@@ @@.samantha;"It's what you really mean."@@ You snort. @@.player;"I'm just saying maybe we shouldn't judge."@@ @@.samantha;"Dude, we absolutely should judge,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"Society depends on it."@@ You're about to answer when Luke drops into the seat beside you with so much force that it jostles the table a little. The first thing you notice, though, is that his tray is empty. Not mostly empty, but fully empty. Clean, with the only remnants being some crumbs and sauce. There's only one granola bar left in his hand. Samantha raises her eyebrows. @@.samantha;"What happened to your lunch?"@@ Luke looks down at the empty tray, then back up at both of you like the answer is obvious. @@.luke;"I ate it."@@ @@.player;"Already?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"I was starving."@@ @@.samantha;"Didn't you just get your food?"@@ Samantha mutters, clearly suspicious. @@.luke;"That's just how hungry I was,"@@ Luke says. @@.player;"No, seriously,"@@ you mutter, needing an answer. @@.player;"Where did it go?"@@ @@.luke;"Into me,"@@ Luke says, tapping his belly. @@.luke;"Legit starving, bro."@@ Samantha is unconvinced. @@.samantha;"I think you're lying."@@ @@.luke;"I'm not lying,"@@ Luke says. @@.player;"You are absolutely lying,"@@ you tell him. @@.player;"There's no way you ate an entire lunch on the walk over."@@ Luke looks very offended by that. @@.luke;"You guys never believe me."@@ @@.samantha;"It literally is not possible,"@@ Samantha says. Luke shrugs and sets the empty tray down like this is no longer worth debating. @@.luke;"Well, it happened. It's fine, though. I've still got my granola bar."@@ You look at the tiny thing. @@.player;"That'll be gone in five seconds."@@ @@.luke;"No it won't,"@@ Luke says, shaking his head. That gets both you and Samantha to look at him properly. @@.samantha;"No?"@@ Samantha asks, brows shooting up. @@.luke;"No,"@@ Luke repeats. @@.luke;"I'm not eating it."@@ @@.player;"Luke, what do you //mean// you're not eating it?"@@ you ask. Luke lowers the granola bar a little, like he knows the weight of what he's saying. @@.luke;"Well, I guess I've realized that I need to be smarter with my food from now on."@@ @@.samantha;"Aww,"@@ Samantha says, beaming in pride. @@.samantha;"That's growth. Are you going to start portioning it out or–@@ Luke interrupts her. @@.luke;"I'm going to use my entrepreneurial expertise and trade this up."@@ You're confused by what he means. @@.player;"Trade it up?"@@ @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"See, I start with the granola bar. Then I trade it for something better. Then I trade that for something better. Then I keep going until I get a cheeseburger."@@ You just look at him, not sure how to respond. @@.samantha;"Luke, that is ''not'' going to happen,"@@ Samantha says, laughing hard. @@.luke;"Watch me,"@@ Luke states with full confidence. @@.player;"You can't turn one granola bar into a cheeseburger through the power of business,"@@ you tell him. Luke is already up, energized by his own stupid plan. @@.luke;"If you need external validation instead of your own conviction, you've failed."@@ @@.player;"Has Luke been possessed?"@@ you whisper to Samantha. @@.samantha;"I think so,"@@ Samantha whispers back. @@.luke;"You guys can laugh now, but when I come back with a cheeseburger, you'll both owe me an apology,"@@ Luke says. @@.samantha;"You are not coming back with a cheeseburger,"@@ Samantha says with full confidence. @@.luke;"You'll see,"@@ Luke says. And with that, he turns and starts walking off into the cafeteria, looking for customers. <<button "Follow him" "Day 25 - 16">><</button>>

You watch Luke march off with his granola bar, and for about three seconds, you consider letting nature take its course. Yet, curiosity wins out. Mostly because if Luke somehow //does// manage to turn a granola bar into a cheeseburger, you need to witness the origin story. And if he fails, which is much more likely, that's still worth seeing up close. So you push back from the table and head after him. Luke doesn't even notice that you're behind him for a while. He's too busy looking for his first target, eyes darting from tray to tray until they lock onto some freshman sitting with a small bag of chips next to his lunch. Oh no. You slow a little as he approaches, because there's something dangerous about how confident he looks right now. He walks straight up to the kid, plants himself in the seat next to him, and puts on what is probably supposed to be a charming businessman smile. @@.luke;"Hey, man,"@@ Luke says, holding up the granola bar. @@.luke;"Quick question. How attached are you to those chips?"@@ The kid blinks, confused. Luke nods. @@.luke;"Because what I have here is a premium snack item,"@@ he says, lifting his bar. @@.luke;"It's portable, nutritious, and sleek. The best part is that I am willing to make you a once-in-a-lifetime offer."@@ You stare. The kid stares too, clearly unsure if this is a prank or not. Luke points at the chips. @@.luke;"You give me those, I give you this, and we both walk away richer. Whaddya think?"@@ @@.boy;"These are barbecue,"@@ the kid says, pointing at the label on his bag. @@.luke;"Exactly,"@@ Luke says, snapping his fingers. @@.luke;"Which means they're high-value. That is exactly why I came to you first."@@ @@.player;"That doesn't help your side,"@@ you mutter under your breath. You're not sure if Luke didn't hear you or decided to ignore you, but either way, he doesn't respond. @@.luke;"Listen, granola bars are the future, man,"@@ he says to the kid, leaning in a little too much. @@.luke;"Chips? They're temporary. But oats? Oats endure."@@ The kid's expression is completely blank. @@.luke;"And, let me tell you, a granola bar is valuable,"@@ Luke continues. @@.luke;"This is exactly the kind of snack people wish they had when things go bad."@@ @@.boy;"But things aren't bad,"@@ the kid says, frowning. @@.luke;"They could become bad,"@@ Luke says seriously. @@.luke;"You never know."@@ @@.player;"Luke, that kind of sounds like a threat,"@@ you chime in. Luke looks shocked. @@.luke;"It's not a threat! It's marketing."@@ @@.player;"It was very bad marketing."@@ @@.boy;"If it's that good, why don't //you// eat it?"@@ the kid asks. Now it's Luke's turn for his face to go blank. @@.luke;"It's just 'cause I care so much about you, man!"@@ Luke says after a pause, slapping the kid's back. It's meant to be a friendly gesture, but Luke hits him way too hard. @@.luke;"Like, no pressure, but if you say yes, this could be huge."@@ The kid seems to actually be thinking about it. You can jump in here if you want. You could try to help Luke, stay quiet, or undermine him. <<button "Help Luke" "Day 25 - 17">>\<<set $d25luketradeup1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_luke_tradeup_1" "Help Luke" "story">><</button>> <<button "Stay quiet" "Day 25 - 17">>\<<set $d25luketradeup1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_luke_tradeup_1" "Stay quiet" "story">><</button>> <<button "Undermine Luke" "Day 25 - 17">>\<<set $d25luketradeup1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_luke_tradeup_1" "Undermine Luke" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d25luketradeup1 is 0>>\ You let out a small sigh, then step in before Luke can say anything stupid again. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, smiling at the kid in a much more normal way. @@.player;"My friend here is doing a terrible job explaining this."@@ @@.luke;"Hey, I was building momentum,"@@ Luke justifies. @@.player;"You were building fear,"@@ you mutter. @@.player;"Look, the chips are good, obviously. But the bag's mostly air. The granola bar, on the other hand? Open that wrapper and it's all food. It won't turn into crumbs in your backpack, either."@@ The kid looks at the granola bar again, seeming a lot more interested. Luke catches up, nodding hard. @@.luke;"Yeah,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"$name is exactly right. It's portable and stable."@@ You talk right over him. @@.player;"So if you're not that hungry, and want something you can keep for later, this is a great trade."@@ The kid hesitates for just one more second before slowly handing over the chips. Luke gasps like he's witnessing a miracle. @@.luke;"No way."@@ @@.boy;"Yes way,"@@ the kid says, still not looking sure about his decision. Luke shoves the granola bar into the kid's hand and takes the chips with both hands, eyes wide with joy. @@.luke;"You did it!"@@ @@.player;"I just did basic talking,"@@ you murmur. Luke looks down at the chips, then back at you with renewed confidence. @@.luke;"Now we're in business."@@ <<elseif $d25luketradeup1 is 1>>\ You decide not to interfere. You tell yourself that it's because Luke got himself into this mess, thus it's his responsibility to handle it. But the true reason is that there's a very specific kind of comedy in watching him try to negotiate. The kid keeps staring at him, still undecided. Luke, who had seemed weirdly confident a second ago, starts to lose steam. @@.luke;"Okay, maybe 'huge' was too intense,"@@ he says, laughing a little too quickly. The kid doesn't respond. Luke spins the granola bar around. @@.luke;"It's still a granola bar, though. I think. I mean, I haven't //had// it. Obviously. That's why we're here."@@ Still nothing. @@.luke;"And chips are good too,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"But, like, granola bar? Like, that's where it's at."@@ The kid looks more confused than ever. Luke starts nodding to himself and talking even faster. @@.luke;"You know what? Don't even think of it as trading. Think of it as... swapping. No, wait, that's the same thing. Think of it as a snack evolution."@@ You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing. The kid clutches the chips close to his chest and says, @@.boy;"I think I'm okay."@@ @@.luke;"Oh,"@@ Luke says, freezing up. There's a sad little pause. @@.luke;"Yeah, no, yeah. I get it. Totally. Respect."@@ He turns and walks back toward you with a defeated expression. @@.luke;"I panicked,"@@ he says quietly. @@.player;"You kinda did, yeah,"@@ you confirm. Luke looks down at the granola bar in his hand. @@.luke;"I thought 'snack evolution' would save it."@@ @@.player;"It did not."@@ Luke sighs. @@.luke;"That's fair."@@ <<elseif $d25luketradeup1 is 2>>\ You look at the poor kid and decide the deal should not go through on principle. @@.player;"Okay, I feel you should know the downside here,"@@ you say to the kid, stepping in before Luke can ramble any further. @@.luke;"What are you doing?"@@ Luke exclaims, horrified. You gesture to the granola bar. @@.player;"This brand is really bad. I've tried it before and it's weirdly dry. It's some healthy brand too, so it tastes weird. Barbecue chips are miles better."@@ @@.luke;"That is not the pitch,"@@ Luke groans. @@.player;"I'm being transparent,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"You're sabotaging me."@@ @@.boy;"I think I'm going to keep these,"@@ the kid says, clutching the chips close to his chest. Luke's shoulders drop and he says, @@.boy;"Oh. Okay."@@ The kid shrugs awkwardly, and Luke nods like he understands, even though he very clearly doesn't. He turns away slowly and walks back toward you holding the granola bar with sadness etched on his face. @@.luke;"You betrayed me,"@@ he says. @@.player;"I protected that kid from being scammed,"@@ you justify. @@.luke;"I was so close,"@@ Luke mourns. @@.player;"You really weren't."@@ Luke lets out a loud sigh. @@.luke;"I can't believe you sided against a young entrepreneur."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "The Art of the Deal" "Day 25 - 18">><</button>>

Luke stands there in the middle of the cafeteria, looking around like a general surveying a battlefield. You just watch him, already wary. @@.player;"What are you doing?"@@ you ask. Luke lifts one hand for silence. @@.luke;"I'm scouting."@@ @@.player;"I'm worried about how this will go,"@@ you mutter to yourself. Luke ignores you, slowly pointing across the cafeteria. @@.luke;"Okay, so I've identified three possible cheeseburger routes."@@ You follow his gaze and sure enough, there are three different people in view with cheeseburgers. Luke points to the first one, some well-dressed kid sitting with an expensive-looking water bottle. Luke immediately assigns them to a higher tax bracket in his mind. @@.luke;"Option one, rich person."@@ You furrow your eyebrows. @@.player;"You don't know if that person is rich."@@ Luke waves that off. @@.luke;"She looks rich enough. And remember, $name, that for a rich person, a burger is nothing. They're so rich they could even buy a hundred burgers without caring."@@ @@.player;"That is not how rich people work."@@ @@.luke;"How would you know?"@@ Luke asks. @@.luke;"You're not rich."@@ You open your mouth before closing it, realizing you don't have anything to say. Not because Luke is right, but because you're just dumbfounded by the logic. @@.luke;"Exactly,"@@ Luke says, smug. He moves on before you can stop him, pointing at someone who's looking at their phone and barely paying attention to their surroundings. @@.luke;"Option two. Distracted person."@@ @@.player;"What are you planning to do?"@@ you ask, already dreading the answer. @@.luke;"I'm just saying that if they're not paying attention, I can get in there,"@@ Luke says, holding up both hands. @@.player;"That doesn't sound great."@@ @@.luke;"I meant with my persuasive negotiation,"@@ he says. Then Luke points at the third possibility: someone sitting a few tables over who does, admittedly, look pretty friendly. @@.luke;"Option three: nice person."@@ You fold your arms. @@.player;"And your strategy there is?"@@ @@.luke;"A nice person would be kind and give a starving boy like me a bit of food,"@@ Luke says with complete sincerity. @@.player;"Luke, you are ''not'' starving,"@@ you say. @@.player;"And look at yourself. You're more of a man than a boy."@@ That hits him hard. His face falls, and for one sad second, Luke just stands there absorbing both corrections. @@.luke;"That was unnecessary,"@@ he murmurs. @@.player;"You set yourself up for that."@@ @@.luke;"Whatever, we have to focus,"@@ he says, pointing between the three targets. @@.luke;"Who should I go for?"@@ <<button "Rich person" "Day 25 - 19">>\<<set $d25luketradeup2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_luke_tradeup_2" "Rich person" "story">><</button>> <<button "Distracted person" "Day 25 - 19">>\<<set $d25luketradeup2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_luke_tradeup_2" "Distracted person" "story">><</button>> <<button "Nice person" "Day 25 - 19">>\<<set $d25luketradeup2 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_luke_tradeup_2" "Nice person" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d25luketradeup2 is 0>>\ @@.player;"The rich person,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Let's try and get her."@@ Luke follows your gaze, then nods gravely. @@.luke;"I agree,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Exactly. Redistribution. What a great idea, $name."@@ @@.player;"That is not what this is."@@ @@.luke;"It is spiritually what this is,"@@ Luke says, straightening up. @@.luke;"This is about correcting imbalance, my comrade."@@ You blink, confused. @@.player;"Why are you suddenly talking like you got into a political argument last night?"@@ @@.luke;"Because that girl is so rich that a burger means nothing to her,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"She's never had to need anything. You can tell by the posture."@@ @@.player;"She's just... sitting."@@ But Luke is already moving, and once he gets like this, stopping him is very difficult. You trail after him as he approaches the kid, who does, in fact, look polished. Trendy clothes, expensive watch, and the latest water bottle. The cheeseburger sits untouched on the tray. @@.luke;"Hey,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Quick question. How open are you to participating in a fairer snack economy?"@@ The girl looks up slowly. She sees Luke's grinning face and scrunches her nose. Luke keeps going, because of course he does. @@.luke;"See, what I've been thinking, is that the concentration of lunch wealth in the hands of a few creates instability for the rest of us."@@ The girl doesn't quite know how to respond to that. @@.luke;"For someone like you, that cheeseburger was stolen. It was purchased using surplus value from workers."@@ @@.girl;"Someone like me?"@@ the kid asks, expression changing. @@.luke;"Yeah, you, the cafeteria elite,"@@ Luke says, very passionate. @@.player;"Oh my God,"@@ you mutter. @@.girl;"Are you calling me rich?"@@ the girl asks. Luke lifts both hands, like he's being reasonable here. @@.luke;"Not in a judgmental way, but in an observational way. You have abundance, I have intiative. Together, we could build a better system for all."@@ @@.player;"What are you on about, man?"@@ you say, poking at Luke. The girl looks very unimpressed. @@.girl;"No."@@ @@.luke;"No?"@@ Luke asks, looking genuinely surprised his plan didn't work. @@.girl;"No,"@@ she repeats, colder this time. @@.girl;"I'm not giving you my burger because of... class inequality or whatever."@@ Luke looks hurt by that. @@.luke;"Wow. So when it comes time to share resources, this is how you act. I see how the rich are."@@ @@.girl;"Please leave."@@ Luke tries one last time, because he's incapable of not pushing it. @@.luke;"Okay, but just to be clear, history will not look kindly on this."@@ @@.player;"Luke,"@@ you say sharply. He finally steps back, done representing the working class. You pull him away before he can start chanting about means of production in the lunch line. @@.luke;"I can't believe she feared change,"@@ Luke says, sadly shaking his head. @@.player;"I can't blame her,"@@ you murmur. Luke sighs. @@.luke;"I was shut down for being too politically aware."@@ @@.player;"It seems the lunch bourgeoisie will live another day."@@ <<elseif $d25luketradeup2 is 1>>\ @@.player;"The distracted person,"@@ you say. Luke nods. @@.luke;"Great idea,"@@ Luke responds, now with newfound confidence. @@.luke;"This is a clean approach. He won't think about the deal much if he's distracted with his phone."@@ <<if $d25luketradeup1 is 0>>\ Now that he has the barbecue chips, Luke has something that looks like a real trade. A bag of chips for a small cheeseburger sounds a hell of a lot more reasonable than a granola bar. The student is looking at a phone, thumb scrolling while the cheeseburger on the tray sits there. It's insulting, really. How he's not showing any respect toward this fantastic piece of food. Luke slows down and smooths his expression into what he probably thinks is a charismatic negotiator face. It is not charismatic. It's just his normal face with extra tension in the eyebrows. Still, he walks up and says, @@.luke;"Hey,"@@ in the smoothest voice he can muster. @@.luke;"Quick trade question."@@ @@.boy;"Uh,"@@ the guy says, looking up from his phone. @@.boy;"Okay?"@@ @@.luke;"Would you trade your burger for these?"@@ Luke asks, lifting the chips. @@.boy;"Barbecue flavor?"@@ the student asks, inspecting the bag. Luke nods. @@.luke;"Yeah. It's got solid flavor, it's fully sealed, and has no structural damage."@@ @@.player;"Did you actually inspect the chips for structural damage?"@@ you ask. @@.luke;"Shh,"@@ Luke whispers. @@.luke;"I'm closing the deal."@@ The guy looks at his burger one last time. @@.boy;"I mean... maybe?"@@ Luke goes very still as he realizes this deal might actually happen. @@.boy;"I kind of wanted fries, but they were out,"@@ the guy elaborates. @@.boy;"I just got this because there wasn't anything else."@@ @@.luke;"So you don't even really want it?"@@ Luke asks, raising an eyebrow. The student shrugs. @@.boy;"Not particularly."@@ Luke turns his head toward you, eyes huge now, but you cut him off before he can mess something up. @@.player;"Do not make this weird,"@@ you hiss. @@.player;"Just finish the trade."@@ @@.luke;"Right, right,"@@ Luke mutters, whipping back around. Then, trying too hard to act casual, @@.luke;"Yeah, no pressure, man."@@ The guy contemplates it for a bit longer before holding out the burger. @@.boy;"Eh, sure."@@ Luke short-circuits. He hands over the barbecue chips so fast that it's suspicious, and the student gives him the cheeseburger. Then it's done. Luke is holding a cheeseburger. An actual cheeseburger. For a second he just stares at it like it's a divine artifact. Then he looks up at you, visibly overwhelemed. @@.luke;"Oh my God,"@@ he whispers. @@.player;"Damn, you actually did it,"@@ you say, laughing. @@.luke;"I... I actually did it,"@@ Luke repeats, still sounding shocked. @@.luke;"This was a trade chain. I ''built'' this. $name, do you know what I just did? I just did business."@@ @@.player;"It was two trades."@@ @@.luke;"It was //so// much more than that."@@ <<else>>\ Luke basically has nothing worth trading though. All he has is the granola bar, which looks exactly as unimpressive as it did five minutes ago. But Luke approaches the distracted guy anyway. Maybe his zealousy can make it work? The student is looking at a phone, thumb scrolling while the cheeseburger on the tray sits there. It's insulting, really. How he's not showing any respect toward this fantastic piece of food. Luke slows down and smooths his expression into what he probably thinks is a charismatic negotiator face. It is not charismatic. It's just his normal face with extra tension in the eyebrows. Still, he walks up and says, @@.luke;"Hey,"@@ in the smoothest voice he can muster. @@.luke;"Quick trade question."@@ @@.boy;"Uh,"@@ the guy says, looking up from his phone. @@.boy;"Okay?"@@ @@.luke;"Would you trade your burger for this?"@@ Luke asks, lifting the granola bar. The student stares at it for a few seconds. @@.boy;"For my burger?"@@ Luke nods. @@.luke;"Yeah. Straight swap."@@ There's a pause, and you can watch the student become more alert. Luke notices too, but instead of adjusting sensibly, he panics and starts explaining. @@.luke;"It's a good one!"@@ he says. @@.luke;"And not just any granola bar. This is, like, solidly above average."@@ @@.boy;"Uhh... Why would I do that?"@@ Luke laughs really loudly. @@.luke;"Well, ya know!"@@ @@.boy;"I know what?"@@ the guy asks. Luke laughs and claps his hands together. @@.luke;"Hahaha, y'know, man!"@@ @@.player;"Luke, you're not cooking,"@@ you murmur. @@.luke;"Okay, fine,"@@ Luke says, refocusing. @@.luke;"I believe that a granola bar is more... flexible."@@ @@.boy;"Flexible?"@@ the distracted boy asks. @@.luke;"Like, you can save it for later,"@@ Luke says, nodding. @@.luke;"Or you can put it in your pocket. Hell, you can even eat it during a situation!"@@ @@.boy;"What kind of situation?"@@ Luke opens his mouth, realizes he has nothing, and closes it again. The guy's face stays blank. Luke is starting to slip, and he's slipping bad. He starts speaking ''really'' fast. @@.luke;"Alsoburgersarekindofheavy.Thisislighter.Moreagile."@@ @@.player;"Agile?"@@ you repeat. Luke continues. @@.luke;"And healthier, too. Depending on the burger. Not that your burger looks unhealthy. It looks normal. Good even. Like... really good. Like... wow..."@@ The student slowly pulls the burger a little closer. @@.boy;"I... I don't think I'm taking this deal,"@@ he stutters out, a little frightened. Luke looks sad. @@.luke;"Okay... I respect the decision."@@ You step in and guide him away before he can say something stupid again. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d25luketradeup2 is 2>>\ @@.player;"I think we should go to the nice person,"@@ you suggest. Luke nods. @@.luke;"You're exactly right, $name,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"We're going the compassion route."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Isn't that rather manipulative?"@@ @@.luke;"It's only manipulative if I lie,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"I'm just highlighting my need for burger."@@ @@.player;"You do not have a need. You just had a full lunch."@@ @@.luke;"That lunch is gone,"@@ Luke says solemnly. @@.luke;"History matters less than the present."@@ Luke approaches the nice-looking girl with sincerity. You trail after him, fully prepared to watch him fail. The student looks up the second Luke stops by the table. @@.luke;"Hey,"@@ Luke says, trying to sound as kind as possible. @@.luke;"Weird question."@@ @@.girl;"Yeah?"@@ she asks, smiling. <<if $d25luketradeup1 is 0>>\ Luke lifts up his bag of chips, which at least gives him //some// dignity, and does his best to look heartfelt. <<else>>\ Luke lifts up his granola bar, which looks like a rather sad offering, and does his best to look heartfelt. <</if>>\ @@.luke;"I'm trying to trade my way up to more lunch,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"I made some bad choices earlier and now I'm paying for them."@@ The girl giggles. @@.girl;"//What?//"@@ Luke nods. @@.luke;"I was too hungry. I moved too fast. I've learned from that, and I'm now trying to build back. So I was wondering if maybe you'd like to work with me here and trade your burger for this?"@@ The girl looks at the snack Luke has in his hands, but it's clear she doesn't care as much about the snack as she does about Luke. He looks like he's on the verge of tears, desperately wanting the burger. <<if $d25luketradeup1 is 0>>\ @@.girl;"Oh, for barbecue chips?"@@ the girl asks. Luke nods eagerly. @@.luke;"Yeah. It's got premium flavor."@@ <<else>>\ @@.girl;"For the granola bar?"@@ she asks, brows going up a little. Luke nods. @@.luke;"It's not my strongest asset, but I believe in honesty."@@ <</if>>\ @@.girl;"You know what?"@@ the girl says, unable to hold in her laugh. It's clear that she's decided this is too strange and too earnest not to reward. @@.girl;"Sure."@@ @@.luke;"Really?"@@ Luke asks. @@.girl;"Yeah,"@@ she says, holding out the burger. @@.girl;"You seem like you need this more than I do."@@ Luke takes the burger like he's been handed a divine artifact. He goes to hand over his snack, but the girl waves it off. @@.girl;"Keep it,"@@ she says. Luke's eyes widen. @@.luke;"What?"@@ She smiles. @@.girl;"You're clearly going through something."@@ You choke back a laugh. Luke, on the other hand, looks genuinely moved. @@.luke;"That's... incredibly kind."@@ @@.girl;"I know."@@ @@.luke;"Thank you,"@@ Luke says, bowing deeply before stepping back from the table. Once you're both a few steps away, he turns to you with a stunned expression. @@.luke;"She... she ''believed'' in me!"@@ @@.player;"She pitied you,"@@ you correct. @@.luke;"I'm happy with the burger,"@@ Luke says, smiling. <</if>>\ <<button "Show Samantha what you got" "Day 25 - 20">><</button>>

<<set $bra to $d18bra>>\ You leave your home and stop. Luke is standing where he always is in a top hat. You just stare at him for a few seconds. Are you seeing this? This is crazy, even for Luke. He smiles widely the instant he sees you. @@.luke;"There you are, $name!"@@ he exclaims. @@.luke;"You are just in time for the first official showing of Luke's Magic Spectacular."@@ @@.player;"The what?"@@ you ask, blinking. Luke spreads his arms with confidence. @@.luke;"A private performance with a special guest audience of one. You."@@ @@.player;"Why are you even dressed like that?"@@ you ask, narrowing your eyes. @@.luke;"Okay, okay, listen close,"@@ he whispers, leaning in. @@.luke;"So, my little brother and sister got this magic kit. Like a really cool one. It had cards, cups, fake coins, a wand, a secret compartment thing, all that stuff. I saw it and immediately knew two things."@@ @@.player;"This is going to be bad,"@@ you say, your blood pressure spiking already. @@.luke;"The first thing, of course, was that magic is awesome,"@@ Luke continues. @@.luke;"The second thing was that they were wasting its full potential."@@ You look at him, unamused. @@.player;"Dude, they're literally twelve."@@ @@.luke;"They're too young to understand the responsibility, yes,"@@ Luke says, nodding solemnly. @@.player;"So you borrowed this little kid's magic toy set from the twins?"@@ you ask. Luke chuckles nervously. @@.luke;"...Not exactly."@@ You pause. @@.player;"...Did you steal it?"@@ @@.luke;"It's not stealing if it's for art."@@ @@.player;"That is ''not'' how crime works."@@ Luke gives a small shrug, although a flicker of guilt does cross his face. @@.luke;"Okay, maybe I took it without asking,"@@ he admits. @@.luke;"But in my defense, I'm pretty sure they think it's still somewhere in the house. They were both searching this morning."@@ You glare at him. Luke winces. @@.luke;"Which, if you think about it, means I have a limited performance window. You should be grateful, $name. You are one of the few people who get to witness this performance."@@ @@.player;"All I'm getting from this is that you robbed two twelve-year-olds before school,"@@ you deadpan. @@.luke;"I did not rob them!"@@ he says, offended. @@.luke;"I just liberated it from their sticky fingers."@@ @@.player;"For a magic show."@@ @@.luke;"For //your// magic show,"@@ he corrects, like that makes it sweeter. You don't quite know how to respond to that. All you can do is imagine Luke sneaking around his own house at dawn, swiping a children's magic kit while his younger siblings are probably turning the entire home upside down looking for it. It's the kind of stupid thing only Luke would do. He pulls out a cheap little wand out of his hoodie pocket and lifts it with pride. @@.luke;"I learned every trick,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"Every. Single. One. Last night. I stayed up mastering the whole craft."@@ @@.player;"You read the instruction sheet in a toy box."@@ @@.luke;"That instruction sheet was a sacred text,"@@ Luke says with exaggerated dignity. He adjusts the top hat and squares his shoulders. @@.luke;"Anyway, they're probably still tearing the living room apart, so we should begin before the authorities catch up to me."@@ @@.player;"Your twelve-year-old siblings are the authorities?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.luke;"Well, they are extremely motivated,"@@ Luke says gravely. @@.luke;"So, are you excited?"@@ <<button "Yes" "Day 25 - 3">>\<<set $d25lukeexcited to true>>\<<trackChoice "D25_luke_excited" "Yes" "story">><</button>> <<button "Not at all" "Day 25 - 3">>\<<set $d25lukeexcited to false>>\<<trackChoice "D25_luke_excited" "Not at all" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d25luketradeup1 is 0 and $d25luketradeup2 is 2>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25LukeTradeup1">>\ By the time you and Luke make it back to the table, he looks ''very'' smug. He's got the cheeseburger in one hand and barbecue chips in the other. His expression is of pure satisfaction with life. He is in tune with his own chi. Samantha looks up, clearly ready to insult him, but stops when she sees what he's carrying. She blinks a couple of times, not able to believe what she's seeing. @@.samantha;"What the hell is that?"@@ Luke sets both items down slowly. @@.luke;"This is what success looks like, //Sam//."@@ @@.samantha;"No, I'm serious,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"What happened? Did he rob a child?"@@ @@.player;"It was more of a strategic chain of trades,"@@ you say. Luke nods. @@.luke;"Exactly."@@ @@.samantha;"Luke, I love you, but you did ''not'' do that by yourself,"@@ Samantha declares with certainty. Luke gasps like she slapped him. @@.luke;"Wow."@@ @@.player;"She's not wrong,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I did have to step in at one point."@@ @@.luke;"Only at one point,"@@ Luke corrects. @@.luke;"You were merely support to me, the visionary."@@ @@.samantha;"Hmm, we can call you the mascot,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"There is no universe where you pulled off a trade from a granola bar to burger and chips without $name. He probably translated your caveman language to something another human being could tolerate."@@ @@.luke;"I can't believe this is how you're treating me after a historic performance."@@ @@.samantha;"Okay, fine, I //am// genuinely impressed,"@@ Samantha says, gesturing at the haul. @@.samantha;"You basically started from nothing."@@ @@.luke;"Thank you for pretending like you respect me, Samantha,"@@ Luke says, grinning wide. @@.samantha;"It's not respect, it's scientific curiosity,"@@ Samantha corrects. @@.samantha;"I want to know how someone with your brain managed this."@@ @@.player;"To be fair, he did manage to get a free burger,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"At least $name shows me respect,"@@ Luke murmurs. @@.samantha;"If he didn't help you, you'd have downgraded from a granola bar to a water bottle,"@@ Samantha laughs. @@.luke;"I'm not tolerating this disrespect any longer,"@@ Luke says. Then he absolutely demolishes the food. The cheeseburger and chips disappear at a speed that makes both you and Samantha go quiet. You're not sure if he even tasted it. It's just gone. History. @@.luke;"Man, that hit the spot,"@@ Luke says, swallowing the last chunk of food. @@.luke;"But... I'm still hungry."@@ Samantha closes her eyes and sighs, having reached the end of her rope. <<elseif $d25luketradeup1 isnot 0 and $d25luketradeup2 is 2>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25LukeTradeup2">>\ Luke comes back to the table looking very pleased with himself. He's got the cheeseburger in one hand and the original granola bar he first took on this journey in the other. The grin on his face says everything that needs to be said. Samantha glances up, ready to make fun of him on reflex, and then stops short when she sees the burger. @@.samantha;"No way..."@@ Luke sits down with ''far'' too much swagger, putting the cheeseburger down like it's a championship trophy. @@.samantha;"How did you //actually// get a cheeseburger?"@@ Samantha asks, dumbfounded. @@.luke;"Through grit,"@@ Luke says. @@.player;"Through luck,"@@ you correct. @@.luke;"I said, 'through grit.'"@@ Samantha looks at you. @@.samantha;"$name, be honest with me. Did you help him?"@@ @@.player;"Not much, actually,"@@ you admit. @@.luke;"Why is everyone trying to erase my hard work?"@@ Luke asks. @@.samantha;"I don't think I've seen you ever work hard,"@@ Samantha says. @@.luke;"I work hard every day,"@@ Luke mutters. @@.samantha;"I still can't get over how insane this is,"@@ Samantha says, still trying to process the absurdity of it. @@.samantha;"I really thought you'd come back with less food than you started with. Somehow."@@ @@.luke;"Your first mistake was not believing in me,"@@ Luke says smugly. @@.samantha;"My first mistake was becoming friends with you at that playground over a decade ago,"@@ Samantha jabs. @@.luke;"That was a fun day,"@@ Luke reminisces, smiling wide. @@.samantha;"You stole my ice cream."@@ @@.luke;"That's what made it fun,"@@ Luke responds. Samantha sighs, not quite knowing how to respond to that. @@.luke;"Don't you two think it's great how I managed to grow my portfolio?"@@ Luke asks, quite happy with himself. You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Did you just call your lunch a portfolio?"@@ @@.luke;"Yep,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Unlike some people at this table, I understand diversifying my assets. That's why I have a burger AND a granola bar."@@ Samantha bursts out laughing, unable to help herself. @@.samantha;"Okay, Wolf of Wall Street. Go eat your portfolio."@@ Luke nods before absolutely demolishing the food. The cheeseburger and granola bar disappear at a speed that makes both you and Samantha go quiet. You're not sure if he even tasted it. It's just gone. History. @@.luke;"Man, that hit the spot,"@@ Luke says, swallowing the last chunk of food. @@.luke;"But... I'm still hungry."@@ Samantha closes her eyes and sighs, having reached the end of her rope. <<elseif $d25luketradeup1 is 0 and $d25luketradeup2 is 1>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25LukeTradeup3">>\ Luke returns to the table carrying the cheeseburger smugly. It's in his walk, it's in the way he holds the burger, and it's in his smile. Samantha looks up, sees it, and actually freezes. @@.samantha;"No way."@@ Luke drops into his seat and sets the cheeseburger down. @@.luke;"Yes way."@@ @@.samantha;"You're kidding,"@@ Samantha says, genuinely shocked. You shrug, trying not to smile too much. @@.player;"Believe it or not, he actually pulled it off."@@ @@.samantha;"What the hell?"@@ @@.luke;"I know, I know,"@@ Luke says, proud of himself. @@.luke;"It's hard being this naturally gifted."@@ @@.samantha;"There is not a single universe in which I'd describe you as gifted,"@@ Samantha says. @@.luke;"Then you're wrong in every universe,"@@ Luke says. @@.samantha;"You literally talk about your dog farting at least once a week."@@ @@.luke;"But here I am with a cheeseburger,"@@ Luke states. @@.luke;"Didn't you tell me I wouldn't be able to do that? Seems you can be wrong too."@@ Samantha looks at the burger again, still trying to reconcile the reality in front of her with the Luke she knows. @@.samantha;"You didn't buy it, right?"@@ @@.luke;"No,"@@ Luke answers. @@.samantha;"Okay, then,"@@ Samantha says slowly, leaning back. @@.samantha;"Okay, look. I'm not saying I //respect// this. But I'm very surprised, in a good way, that you made it work."@@ Luke grins like this is a standing ovation. @@.luke;"I'll take it."@@ Samantha lets out a loud sigh. @@.samantha;"I already regret saying that."@@ @@.player;"We've got to admit that it //is// rather impressive,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"Correct,"@@ Luke states. Samantha points at the cheeseburger. @@.samantha;"You better enjoy that. It is the only thing standing between me and roasting you."@@ Luke picks it up. @@.luke;"I'll enjoy it knowing I proved you wrong."@@ @@.samantha;"Even a broken clock is right twice a day,"@@ Samantha mutters under her breath. Luke doesn't particularly care about what Samantha has to say when there's a burger right in front of him. He demolishes the food. The cheeseburger disappears at a speed that makes both you and Samantha go quiet. You're not sure if he even tasted it. It's just gone. History. @@.luke;"Man, that hit the spot,"@@ Luke says, swallowing the last chunk of food. @@.luke;"But... I'm still hungry."@@ Samantha closes her eyes and sighs, having reached the end of her rope. <<elseif $d25luketradeup1 is 0 and $d25luketradeup2 is 0>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25LukeTradeup4">>\ Luke returns to the table with the barbecue chips. It's not what he set out to get, sure, but compared to where he started? It's honestly kind of a victory. Samantha looks up, takes one look at the bag, and raises an eyebrow high. @@.samantha;"That's it."@@ @@.luke;"That is not 'it,' Samantha,"@@ Luke says, sitting down with dignity. @@.luke;"That is upward movement."@@ You sit back down beside him. @@.player;"Technically he's not wrong."@@ @@.samantha;"$name, I ''know'' you're not about to defend Luke,"@@ Samantha says. @@.player;"I'm defending the fact that he did upgrade,"@@ you say. Luke nods. @@.luke;"Exactly. Thank you. Someone here actually respects growth."@@ @@.samantha;"You started with a granola bar and ended with chips,"@@ Samantha states, gesturing at the bag. @@.samantha;"I wouldn't call that growth. Maybe a sidegrade at best."@@ @@.luke;"Barbecue chips are definitely an upgrade,"@@ Luke says, looking insulted. @@.samantha;"Are they?"@@ Samantha asks, doubting you. @@.samantha;"Wasn't your stated goal a cheeseburger?"@@ @@.luke;"Uhh..."@@ Luke pauses, realizing he can't quite wriggle out of that one. @@.luke;"Well, I didn't get the burger."@@ @@.samantha;"That's my point,"@@ Samantha says. @@.luke;"But I //did// improve the situation,"@@ Luke continues, saving himself. @@.samantha;"Fine, fine, I'll give you that much,"@@ Samantha relents, shrugging. @@.samantha;"Barbecue chips //are// better than a granola bar."@@ @@.luke;"Exactly!"@@ Luke says. @@.player;"He did his best,"@@ you say, grinning. @@.player;"You've got to give him //some// credit."@@ @@.samantha;"Be honest with me, $name,"@@ Samantha begins. @@.samantha;"Did you help?"@@ @@.player;"A little,"@@ you say. Luke looks wounded. @@.luke;"Can't I at least have one thing?"@@ @@.samantha;"For as long as I'm alive, no,"@@ Samantha says. Luke sighs, but he's clearly still a little proud of himself anyway. @@.luke;"Whatever. A lesser man would've accepted defeat."@@ @@.samantha;"A greater man would've just eaten the granola bar,"@@ Samantha jabs. @@.luke;"That's loser mentality."@@ Luke nods before absolutely demolishing the bag of chips. The barbecue chips disappear into his mouth at a speed that makes both you and Samantha go quiet. You're not sure if he even tasted it. It's just gone. History. @@.luke;"Man, that hit the spot,"@@ Luke says, swallowing the last chip. @@.luke;"But... I'm still hungry."@@ Samantha closes her eyes and sighs, having reached the end of her rope. <<elseif $d25luketradeup1 isnot 0 and $d25luketradeup2 isnot 2>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25LukeTradeup5">>\ Luke comes back to the table still holding the granola bar. That's it. No chips, burger, or bonus item. Just the same unopened granola bar he left with, now somehow looking even sadder than before. Luke himself looks awful. Deeply sad, like a puppy that just got kicked by his favorite human. His shoulders are slumped and his face has a big frown. Samantha takes one look at him and the granola bar and bursts out laughing. @@.samantha;"No way,"@@ she says. @@.samantha;"You came back with the exact same granola bar?"@@ Luke sets it down gently. @@.luke;"Don't."@@ Samantha is still laughing. @@.samantha;"You left here talking about entrepreneurial expertise."@@ @@.luke;"I know."@@ @@.samantha;"You said you were going to trade up to a burger."@@ @@.luke;"I remember."@@ @@.samantha;"And now you're back where you started,"@@ she says, pointing at the bar. @@.samantha;"Well, I guess you never got past where you started."@@ You sit back down. Luke looks so pathetically sad you almost feel bad for him. @@.player;"It got complicated,"@@ you say. Samantha wipes at one eye, still grinning. @@.samantha;"Yeah, I'm sure it did."@@ Luke stares down at the granola bar, on the verge of tears. @@.luke;"People just don't see value anymore."@@ @@.samantha;"People can see value just fine,"@@ Samantha says. @@.samantha;"The issue was that your dinky granola bar has no value."@@ @@.luke;"That's mean."@@ @@.samantha;"It's a granola bar in a high school cafeteria."@@ @@.luke;"Why are you like this?"@@ Luke asks, with the saddest expression possible. @@.samantha;"'Cause it's funny,"@@ Samantha says. @@.player;"Luke //does// kind of look devastated,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"I am devastated,"@@ Luke says, slumping into his seat. @@.luke;"I started this lunch with hope."@@ For a few seconds, you wonder if Luke is genuinely depressed now. Even Samantha feels bad, opening her mouth to apologize. But then hunger wins out. With gusto, Luke unwraps the granola bar and takes a bite. Then another. Then, because he's still Luke, the whole thing is gone after five seconds. He swallows, looks at the empty wrapper, and says in a tragic voice. @@.luke;"I'm still hungry."@@ Samantha closes her eyes and sighs, having reached the end of her rope. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - 21">><</button>>

By the end of the school day, you are tired. The halls are loud as students rush to get home. It's clear that they're already mentally gone, even if their bodies are still on campus. Lockers slam, people complain about homework, and someone declares that they're "literally NOT going to survive" the test tomorrow. <<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ You're not going home. Not yet, at least. Your brain wants to go straight home and do nothing until it's time for bed, sure. But you have cheer practice today. You let out a little sigh, adjust your bag, and turn your steps toward the gym. <<button "Cheer practice" "Day 25 - Cheer 1">><</button>> <<else>>\ You step into the crowd with the rest of them. You're tired after the day you've had. Classes, walking, talking, thinking, even just existing. It's all quite exhausting. Home sounds really, ''really'' good right now. And with that, you head out. <<button "Home!" "Day 25 - 22">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25VincentCheer">>\ <<set $top to $temptop>>\ <<set $pants to $temppants>>\ <<set $outfit to $tempoutfit>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to $templowerUndergarment>>\ <<set $shoes to $tempshoes>>\ By the time you make it out into the hallway, your whole body has started to stiffen up. Not enough to stop you from walking, luckily. It'd be really embarrassing if you were carried back home on a stretcher. But it does fuck you up enough that every step feels awkward and a little wrong. It's hard to ignore the ache in every part of your body. The school is mostly empty by now too, which is at least one blessing. You're almost at the exit when you spot Vincent coming down the hall from the other direction with a few papers and a book tucked against his chest. He spots you, slowing down. His eyes move over you before he comes to a stop. @@.vincent;"$name, is that you?"@@ he asks. @@.player;"That's me,"@@ you say. Even your voice has become a little hoarse. For a second he just stands there, clearly trying to decide how to phrase whatever he's thinking. @@.vincent;"I don't know how to say this without sounding at least a little rude,"@@ he says at last. You let out a tired breath. @@.player;"Just say it."@@ @@.vincent;"You look terrible."@@ That makes you laugh. @@.player;"Yeah, I know,"@@ you say. He adjusts the papers in his arms and takes another look at you, this time like he's trying to figure out what the hell got you like this. @@.vincent;"You look like you've had a very... intense afternoon,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"You're moving like every part of you hurts."@@ @@.player;"That's because every part of me //does// hurt,"@@ you admit. Vincent comes a little closer. @@.vincent;"I was studying in the library, and, uh, I ended up staying later than I meant to,"@@ he says, laughing a little at himself. @@.vincent;"Then I came out, finally getting ready to go home, and found you looking like this. So now I'm curious."@@ @@.player;"Of course you are,"@@ you murmur, smiling a little at that. @@.player;"You're curious about quite a lot."@@ @@.vincent;"I already know that I'm a nerd, no need to rub it in my face,"@@ he jokes, smiling back. @@.vincent;"But, come on, $name. You're limping down an empty hallway looking like you just barely survived something horrible. That tends to invite questions."@@ You shift your bag on your shoulder, but immediately regret it when your whole upper body complains. Vincent notices that. @@.vincent;"What happened?"@@ he asks. Do you tell him? <<button "Tell Vincent the truth" "Day 25 - 23">>\<<set $d25tellvincent to true>>\<<trackChoice "D25_tell_vincent" "Tell Vincent the truth" "story">><</button>> <<button "Make up a lie" "Day 25 - 23">>\<<set $d25tellvincent to false>>\<<trackChoice "D25_tell_vincent" "Make up a lie" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25VincentSpectator">>\ By the time you're heading out after school, the courtyard has mostly emptied. There are still some students drifting around, of course. Some are helping, some are just loitering under the excuse of "checking things out." Decorations sway in the breeze, bits of paper catch the afternoon light, and the whole place is just waiting for tomorrow to come. You're cutting through it to get home when you spot Vincent. He's standing in front of the Colombian booth, head tilted slightly as he studies the display with intense concentration. He's not helping with anything, you can tell. He's just looking. You head over without saying anything at first, mostly because Vincent is so focused that you want to see how long it would take for him to notice. The answer is long enough to make him jump a little when you finally speak. @@.player;"Researching?"@@ you ask. Vincent startles, shoulders jerking before he turns toward you. He looks very surprised, but that quickly fades once he recognizes you. @@.vincent;"$name,"@@ he says, recovering quickly. @@.vincent;"You seriously scared me."@@ @@.player;"You looked busy,"@@ you say, smiling a little. @@.vincent;"I was,"@@ Vincent says, although he seems quite glad for the interruption now that he knows it's you. @@.vincent;"I was just looking around before heading to the library."@@ @@.player;"Observing the booths?"@@ you ask. Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"Some of the displays are historically inaccurate."@@ @@.player;"They are?"@@ you ask, looking at the booth in front of you. @@.player;"Looks fine to me."@@ @@.vincent;"This one is actually quite egregious,"@@ Vincent says, gesturing toward a certain shiny part of the Colombian booth. @@.vincent;"They have El Dorado in there."@@ @@.player;"...Okay."@@ Vincent gives you a look. @@.vincent;"That should not be an 'okay.'"@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"What's wrong with El Dorado?"@@ He adjusts his backpack, clearly pleased to have been asked. @@.vincent;"Well, first off, El Dorado isn't real. Or rather, not real in the way people usually think about it. It wasn't some lost golden city waiting for Europeans to discover it. That version is an exaggerated myth."@@ @@.player;"Where'd it come from, then?"@@ you ask. Vincent brightens at the question. @@.vincent;"It likely started with a ritual involving a ruler. The accounts are distorted because they were filtered through rumor, but the general idea is that a chief or king was covered in gold dust and took part in ceremonial offerings at a lake."@@ He pauses, making sure you're following. Once he confirms you are, he's back off. @@.vincent;"So the myth begins with a golden king. And then, because people are very bad at remembering things and very good at making stuff up, the story gradually mutates. A man becomes a place, a ritual becomes treasure. Then eventually you get the full fantasy version of a lost city made of gold."@@ He glances back at the booth again, seeming unhappy on history's behalf. @@.vincent;"Which means putting El Dorado on a Colombian culture display without context is rather lazy."@@ <<button "Tease him for fact-checking the festival" "Day 25 - 23">>\<<set $d25spectatorvincent to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_spectator_vincent" "Tease him for fact-checking the festival" "story">><</button>> <<button "Tell him that you really couldn't care less" "Day 25 - 23">>\<<set $d25spectatorvincent to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_spectator_vincent" "Tell him that you really couldn't care less" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask if anything actually looks good" "Day 25 - 23">>\<<set $d25spectatorvincent to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_spectator_vincent" "Ask if anything actually looks good" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<if $d25tellvincent is true>>\ You hesitate for a second, wondering whether to tell the truth or not. You ultimately decide there's not much point hiding it. @@.player;"Well, I just got off of cheer practice,"@@ you say. Vincent blinks, clearly surprised. @@.vincent;"You were at... cheer practice?"@@ he asks. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you respond simply. @@.vincent;"I will admit that would not have been one of my first ten guesses,"@@ he says carefully. He's looking very focused, like the answer is making him think hard. @@.player;"That's fair,"@@ you say, laughing a little. @@.player;"I didn't expect to be doing this four weeks ago either, Vinny."@@ Vincent tilts his head, curious as always. @@.vincent;"How did that happen, exactly? Did you choose cheerleading, or did cheerleading somehow happen to you?"@@ @@.player;"Uh, I think the second one is probably closer,"@@ you say. @@.player;"They needed a replacement, and Jessica asked if I could fill in."@@ @@.vincent;"A replacement,"@@ Vincent repeats. @@.vincent;"I suppose that makes more sense... Well, it makes //some// sense."@@ @@.player;"You're doing great,"@@ you say, finding his awkwardness endearing. @@.vincent;"I'm really trying!"@@ he exclaims. @@.vincent;"I'm just also trying to picture you in cheer practice, and apparently my imagination isn't as good as I thought it was."@@ That gets another laugh out of you. Vincent keeps going, because once he starts asking questions, he doesn't quite know how to stop. @@.vincent;"So what do you actually do? Do you have to memorize all the choreography? I know broadly what cheerleading is, but only in the historical sense. Did you know cheerleading began as an all-male activity? It shifted in World War 2 because all the men were fighting in Europe or the Pacific, so women were the only ones left at home."@@ @@.player;"I didn't know that,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"That's kind of ironic, actually."@@ @@.vincent;"Is it because now you're the only guy on the team?"@@ Vincent asks. <<if $transgender > 24>>\ @@.player;"I wouldn't put it like that,"@@ you say. <<else>>\ @@.player;"That's exactly it,"@@ you say. <</if>>\ Vincent realizes he forgot to let you answer his question. @@.vincent;"Oh, but what do you actually do in cheerleading again?"@@ @@.player;"Well, we do a lot,"@@ you say. @@.player;"A lot of conditioning, a lot of drills. It's mostly stamping the choreography into your head. You need to execute flawlessly and on time with everyone else."@@ Vincent nods slowly, taking that in earnestly. @@.vincent;"That sounds more intense than people give it credit for."@@ @@.player;"I suppose the football team gets all the attention,"@@ you say. @@.player;"We get ignored even though our practices are probably harder."@@ @@.vincent;"You might be right,"@@ he says, glancing at your face. @@.vincent;"Your body appears to be giving a very strong argument."@@ You smile a little at that. Vincent goes quiet for a few seconds before saying, softly and with awkward sincerity, @@.vincent;"That's really cool, though."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What's cool?"@@ @@.vincent;"The cheerleading,"@@ he clarifies. @@.vincent;"I mean, it's cool that you're doing that. People get very strange and narrow-minded about what they think other people are supposed to do. So... well, I think doing something just because you ended up liking it is good."@@ @@.player;"Thanks, Vincent,"@@ you say, pleasantly caught off guard by the compliment. Vincent nods a little too quickly, like he's aware he said something sincere and needs to keep the conversation moving to forget about it. @@.vincent;"Yes. Well. Anyway, are you alright? You //do// look really tired."@@ <<elseif $d25tellvincent is false>>\ You hesitate for a second, wondering whether to tell the truth or not. You ultimately decide not to tell him. @@.player;"I was just helping move stuff for the Culture Festival,"@@ you lie. Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"That would explain some of it,"@@ he says. But then he thinks a little, and it's clear he's not fully convinced. @@.vincent;"You still look unsually destroyed for basic carrying tasks. But I suppose it can happen if you were lifting heavy things."@@ @@.player;"It was ''very'' heavy,"@@ you say, digging in. @@.vincent;"You know, I've been helping with the booth for France,"@@ he says, sounding excited about it. @@.player;"You have?"@@ you asked, surprised for no reason. It makes sense that Vincent would be part of the Culture Festival, but you hadn't thought of it for whatever reason. @@.player;"What part?"@@ @@.vincent;"With the planning and details,"@@ he answers. @@.vincent;"My family has French ancestry, so I got pulled in when people realized I knew things. Although I probably would've tried to get in either way for France."@@ @@.player;"You're a true patriot,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"Wait, do you want to join more because you cared about France or because you wanted to have an excuse to research history?"@@ Vincent is quiet for a few seconds before squeaking out, @@.vincent;"Do I have to answer?"@@ @@.player;"Absolutely."@@ @@.vincent;"I just wanted an excuse to research,"@@ he admits. You laugh. @@.player;"That sounds very Vincent-coded."@@ Vincent accepts that without protest. @@.vincent;"There was this one time where I gave what I thought was a helpful explanation about regional differences in French culinary history."@@ @@.player;"So what was the problem then?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"Well, apparently that was not what anyone meant when they asked if I had decoration ideas."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, that also sounds very you."@@ He gives a small shrug. @@.vincent;"I'm trying to ramble less, but it's a little hard sometimes. I don't notice I'm rambling until it's already too late."@@ A question pops into your mind. @@.player;"So why weren't you helping move things?"@@ Vincent's expression changes into embarrassment. @@.vincent;"I attempted to."@@ @@.player;"How do you attempt to move things?"@@ you ask, genuinely curious. He continues. @@.vincent;"There was a box and it //looked// manageable. So I picked it up, or rather I tried to pick it up. Let's just say that it became clear almost immediately that I had badly misjudged both the weight of the box and my own strength."@@ @@.player;"So what happened when it turned out you couldn't lift it?"@@ @@.vincent;"A girl from the grade below ours watched me striggle with it for a few seconds,"@@ Vincent says quietly, clearly embarrassed. @@.vincent;"Then she got visibly annoyed, took it from me, and carried it away herself."@@ @@.player;"Vinny, //how// are you so weak?"@@ you ask, laughing. @@.vincent;"In my defense, she was very strong,"@@ Vincent justifies. @@.player;"Yeah, I'm sure she was."@@ @@.vincent;"She was also about five feet tall,"@@ he adds. That gets you laughing again. Vincent sighs softly, but there's a little smile there too. He obviously knows exactly how ridiculous he sounds. @@.vincent;"After that, it was mutually understood that I would contribute in non-lifting ways."@@ @@.player;"I think that was probably for the best,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Maybe I'm wrong, though. You could've built muscle and become really strong by lifting all those boxes."@@ @@.vincent;"I think you were on point the first time,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"Yes. Well. Anyway, are you alright? You //do// look really tired."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "I'm fine, just tired" "Day 25 - 24">>\<<set $d25cheervincentalright to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_vincent_alright" "I'm fine, just tired" "story">><</button>> <<if $d25tellvincent is true>>\ <<button "Cheer practice was brutal" "Day 25 - 24">>\<<set $d25cheervincentalright to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_vincent_alright" "Cheer practice was brutal" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\ <<button "Do I really look that bad?" "Day 25 - 24">>\<<set $d25cheervincentalright to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_vincent_alright" "Do I really look that bad?" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<if $d25spectatorvincent is 0>>\ @@.player;"Hmm, I don't know,"@@ you say, glancing at the cool glimmering cutout of El Dorado. @@.player;"The golden city //is// pretty badass."@@ Vincent lets out a little laugh. @@.vincent;"I know it does,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"The glitter and the paint work really well together, especially in the sun. It looks ''really'' good. That's why I'm so annoyed by it. Why couldn't this artistic effort have been put into something historically accurate?"@@ @@.player;"So you, Mr. Sinclair, have taken it upon yourself to fact-check the Culture Festival?"@@ you ask, smirking. @@.vincent;"I suppose I have,"@@ Vincent declares. @@.player;"Don't you think that's a bit much?"@@ You meet his gaze and keep it, and Vincent's mouth ends up twitching. @@.vincent;"Alright,"@@ he admits, @@.vincent;"I probably am going too far."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"Probably?"@@ He sighs. @@.vincent;"Fine! I ''am'' going too far. It's a high school festival. Logically, I am aware of that."@@ @@.player;"So what's the problem, then?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"My emotions refuse to comply,"@@ Vincent explains. You can't help but find that humorous. Vincent himself seems to be very self-aware. @@.player;"I suppose the heart can be stronger than the brain."@@ Vincent shakes his head at the Colombian booth. @@.vincent;"Yeah, because I know these are students doing their best and that visuals matter more than accuracy. But it really does bother me when something interesting gets flattened for simplicity."@@ @@.player;"That's a pretty good explanation,"@@ you say, feeling like you understand more about Vincent now. @@.vincent;"I'm glad,"@@ Vincent says, giving you a small smile. @@.vincent;"Not everyone understands me sometimes."@@ <<button "Vincent lore" "Day 25 - 24">><</button>> <<elseif $d25spectatorvincent is 1>>\ You shrug. @@.player;"I'm sorry Vincent, but I really couldn't care less about golden kings or whatever."@@ Vincent's expression darkens, the brightness that was there when he was talking about his interest fading. @@.vincent;"I understand,"@@ he ends up saying. @@.vincent;"I can be stupid and go on too long about things nobody cares about other than me."@@ He doesn't sound angry at you, but he does sound kind of angry at himself. There's even a little embarrassment in there for having launched into something because he thought you might actually want to hear it. @@.vincent;"I just wanted to share,"@@ he murmurs quietly. Then he looks back at the display, and the conversation ends there. <<button "Poor Vincent..." "Day 25 - 26">><</button>> <<elseif $d25spectatorvincent is 2>>\ @@.player;"Alright, so I'm assuming a lot of these booths aren't historically accurate,"@@ you say, glancing around the courtyard. @@.vincent;"That would be correct,"@@ Vincent confirms. @@.player;"Okay, so does anything actually look good, then?"@@ you ask. That gets a completely different reaction out of Vincent. He straightens up slightly, and you can tell you just hit a topic he has strong opinions about. @@.vincent;"Some of it does. For example, the booth for France."@@ You stare at him. @@.player;"Is that your booth?"@@ Vincent unsuccessfuly attempts to look less pleased. @@.vincent;"Indeed."@@ @@.player;"How humble,"@@ you remark. @@.vincent;"I'm being accurate,"@@ he insists. @@.vincent;"It does look very good. The layout is clean, the colors actually make sense together, and the decorations are accurate. There's structure."@@ @@.player;"I'm sensing some passion here."@@ @@.vincent;"You should!"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"I worked really hard on this. Too hard, maybe."@@ @@.player;"Why too hard?"@@ you ask, a little confused. Then you realize. @@.player;"Wait, did you annoy your groupmates?"@@ @@.vincent;"...Probably..."@@ You laugh. He keeps going, because once he's started, he can't really stop. @@.vincent;"I didn't mean to,"@@ he justifies. @@.vincent;"I just think if you're going to represent something, it should have a certain degree of care put into it. There were a few moments where I had to explain that putting a baguette and the Eiffel Tower next to each other does not constitute cultural depth."@@ @@.player;"How did they react?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"With annoyance,"@@ Vincent admits, clearly a little embarrassed. @@.vincent;"It does look good, though."@@ @@.player;"I'm sure it does."@@ <<button "Vincent lore" "Day 25 - 24">><</button>> <</if>>\ <</if>>\

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<if $d25cheervincentalright is 0>>\ @@.player;"I'm fine,"@@ you say quickly. @@.player;"Just tired."@@ Vincent, to his credit, catches that you don't want to talk about this much immediately. He doesn't call you out, thank God. He just gives a small nod like he understands what you're doing. @@.vincent;"That //is// good to hear,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"That you're fine, of course! Not the fact that you're tired."@@ You shift your bag again before starting to walk, or rather limp, again. Vincent walks right beside you, clutching his papers and book close to his chest with both hands. @@.vincent;"The library was nearly empty today,"@@ Vincent comments. @@.vincent;"It becomes a very nice place once most people leave."@@ @@.player;"When is it //not// a nice place for you?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"I thought you loved the library."@@ @@.vincent;"Well, sometimes some people go to the back of the library and... uh... do things,"@@ he says. You raise an eyebrow, not quite getting what //doing things// means. @@.player;"What do you mean by that?"@@ @@.vincent;"Well, I believe they engage in the consumption and trade of cannabis. It smells."@@ @@.player;"So you're saying people smoke and sell weed in the back,"@@ you say, having to hold in a laugh. @@.vincent;"To put it simply, yes,"@@ he says. @@.player;"Maybe you should tell the librarian about it,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"Oh, I could never,"@@ Vincent says, shaking his head vigorously. @@.vincent;"I've already learned not to tell on some people."@@ @@.player;"That's pretty smart too,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"Thank you."@@ He keeps talking after that. He tells you about how he's annoyed that France is often reduced to Paris. He says that other cities are good too. At one point, he tells you that the city Nice is nice. You think it was an attempt at a joke. You mostly listen, answering here and there, letting the conversation move without thinking too hard. You're pretty exhausted. Eventually, though, he circles back. @@.vincent;"I will say, though, I'm a little afraid of ever being that tired."@@ <<elseif $d25cheervincentalright is 1>>\ @@.player;"Cheer practice was absolutely brutal,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"Oh, what did they have you do?"@@ Vincent asks. @@.player;"A whole lot,"@@ you say, letting a breath out through your nose. @@.player;"Well, we started with stretches."@@ Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"That doesn't sound too bad."@@ @@.player;"You're right, it wasn't too bad,"@@ you say. @@.player;"That part was fine."@@ @@.vincent;"Good!"@@ Vincent says, looking quite relieved. @@.player;"Then we did suicides."@@ Vincent freezes in his tracks. He turns his head toward you with a shocked expression on his face. @@.vincent;"You did what?"@@ You stop too, finding his reaction too good. @@.player;"Suicides,"@@ you repeat. @@.player;"The thing you do on a basketball court. Baseline to free throw line and back, half court and back, so on and so forth. You know."@@ Vincent looks genuinely alarmed. @@.vincent;"$name, that's torture."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"You know, that's exactly what Tori said."@@ @@.vincent;"Well, Tori is correct,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"That is not exercise. It makes you suffer far too much."@@ You laugh harder at that. @@.player;"You'd get along with her."@@ Vincent's eyes widen. @@.vincent;"Would I?"@@ @@.player;"You both clearly think the same way about cardio."@@ He considers that, but then you think about it a little more and realize you were way off. @@.player;"Actually, never mind. You two are not compatible."@@ @@.vincent;"I'd like to meet this Tori,"@@ Vincent says, his head tilted. @@.player;"I'm not sure if you do."@@ You start walking again, and Vincent resumes moving as well, still clearly stuck on the suicides part. @@.vincent;"Was that at least the only thing you had to do?"@@ @@.player;"I wish,"@@ you say. @@.player;"If anything, it got worse."@@ Vincent looks like he's about to pass out. His curiosity gets the best of him though, as he says, @@.vincent;"How did it get worse?"@@ You tell him a little more. About how you went on to jumps then timing practice and then a whole fucking routine. He listens about how Coach Moore decided that fatigue was apparently the perfect learning environment. Vincent seems very focused and serious, perhaps filing all of this under reasons to avoid organized athletics forever. By the time you finish, he looks like he just saw a ghost. @@.vincent;"You know, I'm a little afraid of ever being that tired,"@@ he admits. <<elseif $d25cheervincentalright is 2>>\ You chuckle. @@.player;"Why are you asking? Do I really look that bad?"@@ <<if $vincentRelo > 29>>\ <<set $vincentRomance to Math.clamp($vincentRomance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ Vincent blinks before becoming very noticeably flustered. It's nothing crazy, but that somehow makes it more obvious. He almost drops his book as red blooms across his cheeks. His eyes start darting around, unable to look you in the eyes. @@.vincent;"No, not that,"@@ he says quickly. @@.vincent;"I mean, you don't look //bad// bad."@@ @@.vincent;"Well, that came out wrong,"@@ Vincent says, face warming. @@.vincent;"I just meant... Well... You just don't ever really look bad, alright?"@@ Vincent looks like he wants to vanish back into the library after saying this. @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say, smiling a little. @@.vincent;"I was trying to be reassuring,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Did I overshoot?"@@ @@.player;"A little."@@ @@.vincent;"Was it in a bad way?"@@ you ask. @@.player;"I wouldn't say that."@@ The hallway is quiet for a while. @@.vincent;"What I originally meant was that you looked tired. Which is different."@@ @@.player;"Mhm."@@ @@.vincent;"It is."@@ You let him have that, mostly because you find the flustered version of Vincent too endearing. @@.vincent;"I will say though, that I'm a little afraid of ever being that tired,"@@ he admits. <<else>>\ @@.vincent;"No, not bad,"@@ Vincent says, shaking his head slightly. @@.vincent;"Just tired. Which is to be expected, I suppose."@@ @@.player;"Is that a good thing?"@@ you ask, laughing. @@.vincent;"Well, it's not good nor bad,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"I was trying to be accurate, not mean."@@ @@.player;"I appreciate the effort,"@@ you say. Vincent nods, looking mildly relieved that you're not weird about it. @@.vincent;"Good. Because I did mean it with concern."@@ @@.player;"Don't worry, I'm not going to die,"@@ you reassure. @@.player;"At least not yet."@@ @@.vincent;"You'd better not!"@@ Vincent exclaims, looking surprised. @@.vincent;"But, you know, I think I'd be terrified of getting that tired."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ @@.player;"Why are you afraid of it?"@@ you ask. Vincent gives a small shrug. @@.vincent;"I prefer to exercise my brain,"@@ he says, smiling. Then, after an awkward silence, @@.vincent;"That was a horrible attempt at humor, I know."@@ @@.player;"It wasn't the worst I've ever heard,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.player;"I didn't even realize it //was// a joke."@@ @@.vincent;"I'm so bad at joking that my jokes don't even register as such,"@@ Vincent murmurs to himself. <<button "Ask Vincent what he was studying" "Day 25 - 25">>\<<set $d25cheervincentquestion to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_vincent_question" "Ask Vincent what he was studying" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask if Vincent always studies this late" "Day 25 - 25">>\<<set $d25cheervincentquestion to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_vincent_question" "Ask if Vincent always studies this late" "story">><</button>> <<button "Tell Vincent he doesn't have to babysit you" "Day 25 - 25">>\<<set $d25cheervincentquestion to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_vincent_question" "Tell Vincent he doesn't have to babysit you" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ Vincent looks out over the courtyard for a few moments, his gaze moving from booth to booth as students adjust things and do final checks. Then he thoughtfully whispers, @@.vincent;"I'm actually really excited for the Culture Festival."@@ @@.player;"You are?"@@ you asked. @@.vincent;"More than I was expecting to be, honestly,"@@ he explains. That makes you smile a little. @@.player;"Why's that?"@@ He takes a second to find the right way to say it before speaking. @@.vincent;"I guess it's because the other school events so far haven't really been for me. The back-to-school party, the football games, homecoming... I went to all of them. Or I at least showed up."@@ @@.player;"You did,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I remember that."@@ @@.vincent;"I really did put in the effort,"@@ Vincent continues. @@.vincent;"I talked to people, I stood around in the correct places, I think at one point during the back-to-school party I genuinely considered dancing. Which in retrospect was very foolish."@@ <<if $d20dance is 3>>\ @@.player;"You seriously did that?"@@ you ask, surprised. @@.player;"Vincent dancing. It's a little hard to imagine, to be honest."@@ @@.vincent;"I'm just happy I didn't go through with it,"@@ Vincent says, letting out a small laugh. @@.vincent;"Sometimes you come up with a bad idea. As long as it doesn't become anything more than an idea, you're okay."@@ You cringe as you recall some things in the past that you almost did. @@.player;"I know I've had a number of bad ideas."@@ <<else>>\ @@.player;"You didn't seem to have any reservations about dancing with me, though,"@@ you whisper, smirking. Vincent turns red. @@.vincent;"I mean, that's because it was //you//, $name."@@ @@.player;"Hmmmm,"@@ you say, holding it for a while. @@.player;"Sure."@@ <</if>>\ @@.vincent;"The point is that I kept going to those things because they were supposed to be fun,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"But each time I was there, I felt like I was at an event meant for a different kind of person."@@ @@.player;"A more outgoing person?"@@ you ask. Vincent nods. @@.vincent;"Exactly. Football games are loud, homecoming is loud, and parties are ''not'' my natural terrain."@@ @@.player;"But you still went,"@@ you say softly. @@.vincent;"I did,"@@ Vincent mutters. @@.vincent;"And I'm actually quite glad I did, at least in one way. I don't think avoiding everything is a particularly noble personality trait, and that part of me is something I wanted to change. But I also don't think pretending to enjoy every type of event just because other people do is very honest."@@ @@.player;"I think that's fair,"@@ you agree. @@.player;"Sometimes things just aren't for you, no matter how hard you try."@@ @@.vincent;"Yes, but this feels different,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"This actually feels like something I'd like even if nobody asked me to go. You can walk around, read things, look at displays, and learn. That's much more my speed."@@ @@.player;"I get that there's more stuff to do that actually interests you,"@@ you say with full sincerity. But then, just because you need to crack a joke, @@.player;"But since history and art is involved, I think you're just automatically interested."@@ @@.vincent;"I suppose you're right,"@@ Vincent says, smiling. @@.vincent;"How could I //not// be interested? Better than the boring football game."@@ @@.player;"It wasn't boring,"@@ you insist. @@.vincent;"I don't know about that."@@ The two of you stand there for another moment, enjoying the sun, before Vincent looks at you again. But it's much more tentative this time, like he's trying to phrase the next thing he says well. Finally, he says, @@.vincent;"Would you like to look at a booth with me? If you're not in a rush, of course."@@ <<button "Let's go look at Turkey" "Day 25 - 25">>\<<set $d25spectatorvincentbooth to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_spectator_vincent_booth" "Let's go look at Turkey" "story">><</button>> <<button "Let's go look at Nigeria" "Day 25 - 25">>\<<set $d25spectatorvincentbooth to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_spectator_vincent_booth" "Let's go look at Nigeria" "story">><</button>> <<button "Let's go look at Vietnam" "Day 25 - 25">>\<<set $d25spectatorvincentbooth to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_spectator_vincent_booth" "Let's go look at Turkey" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<if $d25cheervincentquestion is 0>>\ You glance at the papers tucked against Vincent's chest. @@.player;"So what were you actually studying in there?"@@ @@.vincent;"Oh!"@@ Vincent says, expression changing right away. He looks down at the floor, adjusting his papers a little, and says, @@.vincent;"Welll..."@@ You narrow your eyes. @@.player;"That's not an answer."@@ @@.vincent;"It could be,"@@ Vincent responds. @@.player;"Vinny, you're being suspicious."@@ @@.vincent;"I'm not,"@@ Vincent says suspiciously. You keep walking, slower than usual for obvious reasons. @@.player;"You literally told me you were in the library studying."@@ @@.vincent;"And I was."@@ @@.player;"That sounded defensive."@@ Vincent lets out an awkward laugh. @@.vincent;"I //was// studying for calculus."@@ The way he says it makes you look at him. @@.player;"Okay, but why did you put that weird emphasis on //was//?"@@ you ask. Vincent goes quiet, which is answer enough. @@.player;"Vincent."@@ He looks embarrassed now. @@.vincent;"I was studying calculus, and I actually did finish one piece of homework for it!"@@ he says. You blink. @@.player;"Why only one piece?"@@ @@.vincent;"Because... well, because I got distracted,"@@ he finally admits. @@.player;"With what?"@@ you press. @@.vincent;"I //did// get one piece of homework done, by the way,"@@ Vincent repeats, turning bright red. @@.player;"Vincent,"@@ you say strictly. @@.player;"What did you get distracted by?"@@ @@.vincent;"With the Culture Festival,"@@ he says, grip tightening on the book. @@.vincent;"I was reading something related to France, which led to something about regional customs, which led to a broader comparison of festival traditions and celebrations across different cultures, and then I found a section of historical food symbolism, which, for the record, is really fascinating–"@@ You laugh, unable to keep up with him. @@.player;"Oh my God."@@ @@.vincent;"I know it's bad,"@@ Vincent says, looking pained. @@.player;"That sounded ''so'' Vincent,"@@ you observe. He winces but doesn't fight it. @@.vincent;"It was not an efficient use of time."@@ @@.player;"Did you have fun, though?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"I... I had a ''ton'' of fun,"@@ Vincent stutters out. @@.player;"Then that's an efficient use of time,"@@ you reassure. That seems to comfort him a little. He looks down at the papers again. @@.vincent;"I do still have the finished calculus assignment, though. I can show you, if you want!"@@ @@.player;"You really want me to know that, huh?"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.vincent;"I feel that it reflects well on my character,"@@ Vincent says. Unfortunately, you get rather curious, and end up asking, @@.player;"What'd you even end up finding?"@@ That gets him to brighten up immediately. He begins rambling without a moment of hesitation. @@.vincent;"Well, for one thing, I feel a lot of people flatten cultural identity into national identity in a way that's a harmful oversimplification. Regional traditions can differ a lot more than people think. It's just like how the American South is different from New England."@@ @@.vincent;"So for France specifically, there's a region called Alsace right on the border with Germany,"@@ he continues, refusing to let up. @@.vincent;"It's been traded back and forth a number of times. The official language is French, but a lot of them actually speak Alsatian. There are a lot of hybrid phrases that use parts of German and French. It's really fascinating."@@ @@.player;"That's actually really cool,"@@ you say, flashing him a quick smile. @@.player;"I didn't ever really think about the border regions."@@ @@.vincent;"It's really cool,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"I think it's good to explore these things at the Culture Festival. Even if I know it'll mostly be an excuse for people to hang out and eat food."@@ @@.player;"At least you're self-aware,"@@ you respond. Vincent lets out a long sigh. @@.vincent;"Part of being a massive nerd is realizing nobody else cares about things like you do."@@ You chuckle, and the two of you keep talking as you exit the school building. Vincent's still a little embarrassed about the whole thing, but clearly much happier now that he's talking about what distracted him. <<elseif $d25cheervincentquestion is 1>>\ @@.player;"Vinny, do you always study this late?"@@ you ask. Vincent answers so quickly that it borders on immediate. @@.vincent;"Yes."@@ @@.player;"That was fast,"@@ you say, shocked. @@.vincent;"Well, that's because there's nothing to think about,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"I study all the time. It's rarer to see me //not// studying, to be honest. I study until it's time to go to sleep."@@ @@.player;"No, not that,"@@ you say, chuckling at the way he interpreted the question so literally. @@.player;"I meant if you always stay in the library this late."@@ That makes his brain reset, the clarification having helped. @@.vincent;"Oh,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"Sometimes."@@ @@.player;"Sometimes?"@@ @@.vincent;"I really do try to be disciplined at home,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"I have a desk setup I really like and a Pomodoro timer."@@ You blink. @@.player;"A //what// timer?"@@ @@.vincent;"A Pomodoro timer,"@@ Vincent repeats. @@.vincent;"It's a time management system. You work for 25 minutes then take a 5 minute break. Rinse and repeat. It helps you stay focused."@@ @@.player;"Is a five minute break even enough?"@@ you ask, doubtful. @@.player;"I don't know if this would work."@@ @@.vincent;"Oh it works,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"You should try it sometime."@@ <<if $study > 84>>\ @@.player;"Maybe I will,"@@ you murmur. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Maybe if it was 5 minutes of study and 25 minutes break,"@@ you murmur. <</if>>\ @@.vincent;"If you use it correctly, it's really helpful,"@@ he explains. @@.player;"Do you use it correctly?"@@ you ask. He pauses. Then says, with complete honesty, @@.vincent;"Not always."@@ You laugh. Vincent looks at you. @@.vincent;"I suppose the problem is that my room is still my room. Even if I set everything up properly, it's easier to get distracted there. At the library, the expectations are already set. You're //meant// to study. Makes it pretty hard not to."@@ @@.player;"That makes sense, actually,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Whenever I try to study, I get distracted by my computer or by my little sister or just anything."@@ @@.vincent;"Maybe you should join me at the library sometime,"@@ he adds a little awkward. Then, to change the topic, he says, @@.vincent;"Also, I know the librarian."@@ You laugh. You're not sure if you even know what the librarian looks like. @@.player;"Are you really there that much?"@@ @@.vincent;"I am,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"She's very nice. She's also stopped asking if I need help months ago. The most she'll do is occasionally give me a book she thinks I'll like. Let me tell you, she's ''really'' good with recommendations. Comes with the occupation, I suppose."@@ @@.player;"You know, that's kind of sweet,"@@ you say, touched. @@.player;"The fact that she cares that much about you, I mean."@@ @@.vincent;"I guess I have a reputation,"@@ he says, laughing. You keep walking together after that, the conversation slipping into easier things. Vincent talks a little about how he organizes his study materials, talking about the most efficient placement. You can't help but to make fun of him a little for that fact. Vincent, just because he's Vincent, does his best to defend himself. You're still sore, but the walk doesn't feel quite as long anymore. <<elseif $d25cheervincentquestion is 2>>\ <<set $vincentRelo to Math.clamp($vincentRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Look, Vincent, you really don't need to babysit me,"@@ you say, laying down the law. @@.player;"I'm fine, alright? I'm just a bit tired."@@ The words come out pretty sharp. Sharper than you mean to. But... maybe you //do// mean it, at least a little. You're tired and sore and sweaty and trying to get home. You don't need to be babied, you just need some rest. Vincent goes quiet, not quite knowing what to say. His fingers tighten around the book in his arms, and when he speaks, his voice is much quieter than it was before. @@.vincent;"I wasn't trying to babysit you."@@ @@.player;"Well, it kind of feels like it,"@@ you snap. Vincent blinks. @@.vincent;"I was just worried. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."@@ The sincerity in his voice should probably make you back off. But instead, because you're annoyed and too deep in your own bad mood now, you say, @@.player;"Yeah, well, I'm okay. So you can stop now."@@ Vincent's face crumples. He looks hurt, like he wasn't expecting you to actually push him away. Especially the second time after he'd make it clear he meant well. @@.vincent;"Oh..."@@ he says, looking down at the floor. @@.vincent;"I'm sorry. I'll just... leave you alone, then. Sorry."@@ He never ends up looking back up. He goes off on his own down the hall, shoulders hunched. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d25spectatorvincentbooth is 0>>\ @@.player;"Hmm,"@@ you say, looking across the courtyard. Eventually, though, you decide on something. @@.player;"What about the Turkey booth?"@@ Vincent follows your line of sight and nods. @@.vincent;"That's actually a good choice."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Why do you sound surprised that I made a good choice?"@@ @@.vincent;"Uhhh,"@@ Vincent murmurs, stalling for time. @@.vincent;"Let's go to the booth!"@@ The two of you start walking over together. The booth is already in a really good shape for tomorrow. Red and white decorations, a few food pictures, a map, some printed facts, and a small display board with a handful of famous landmarks and cultural notes. @@.vincent;"This is nice,"@@ Vincent comments after studying it for a while. @@.vincent;"Clean leayout, good color choices, and I like the symbolism. There's a good amount of them. It's not overwhelming nor is it underwhelming."@@ @@.player;"You have high standards,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.vincent;"I just think it has to be meaningful,"@@ Vincent comments. @@.vincent;"The issue is that meaning has high standards."@@ You smile a little. @@.player;"Okay. So what's good here?"@@ Vincent leans in slightly as he reads over one section. @@.vincent;"Well, they mentioned the Bosphorus, which is good. That strait is vital to Turkey's existence. A very meaningful geographical point."@@ He gestures toward the map. @@.vincent;"That strait basically splits Istanbul, although I //do// prefer the name Constantinople, between Europe and Asia. It might not seem like a lot, but it's influenced so much of history."@@ @@.player;"What has it influenced?"@@ you ask, curious. @@.vincent;"It's had profound effects on trade, migration, empire, cultural blending, strategic importance, and more,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"A lot of history gets more understandable once you understand the geography."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"So you're saying people should study Geopolitics?"@@ @@.vincent;"I mean... it wouldn't hurt!"@@ Vincent says. You both move a little farther along the display. There's a section with Turkish food, and a Döner is prominantly displayed. There's a strip of paper that reads ''our döners are better than germanys!!!'' Vincent laughs at that. @@.vincent;"I like both German and Turkish döners for their own unique properties, though,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"I personally think they may as well be different dishes. Like, I wouldn't compare a New York slice to an Italian pizza either."@@ @@.player;"But would you still say this if a patriotic Turk was here?"@@ you ask. @@.vincent;"If one was here, I'd be saying Turkish Döners is the only true authentic dish,"@@ Vincent says, laughing. @@.vincent;"But it doesn't matter because I think lahmacun is the superior dish anyway."@@ @@.player;"So what do you think of it overall?"@@ you ask, trying to get his assessment. @@.player;"It's strong, thoughtful, and nicely done,"@@ Vincent says. But then he pauses. @@.player;"There it is,"@@ you say, catching it. @@.vincent;"There what is?"@@ Vincent asks innocently. @@.vincent;"I don't see anything."@@ @@.player;"The but."@@ Vincent sighs softly, caught. @@.vincent;"Fine. There is, in fact, a but."@@ @@.player;"I knew it."@@ He points towards a large red fez. @@.vincent;"These are ''not'' a good representation of modern Turkey."@@ @@.player;"I think they look pretty cool,"@@ you say, admiring the hat. @@.vincent;"They do, but they're actually banned in Turkey,"@@ Vincent explains. @@.vincent;"They were banned a century ago in 1925 as a part of modernization efforts. Atatürk, who's considered the founding father of the Turkey we know today, banned it to try and westernize the country."@@ @@.player;"But is the ban, like, actually enforced?"@@ you ask. Vincent looks kind of embarrassed. @@.vincent;"...No..."@@ @@.player;"So is it really a problem?"@@ you press. @@.vincent;"Not really,"@@ Vincent murmurs. @@.vincent;"I'm just being pedantic."@@ You laugh at that. @@.player;"Don't worry, Vincent. I feel we all need a pedant in our lives."@@ Vincent looks quietly pleased with himself. @@.vincent;"Thank you."@@ <<elseif $d25spectatorvincentbooth is 1>>\ @@.player;"I think... uh..."@@ You trail off, looking around the courtyard. Eventually, though, your eyes land on one of the farther displays. @@.player;"Let's look at the Nigeria booth."@@ Vincent turns to look before giving a small nod. @@.vincent;"Yes, alright. That one caught my attention earlier too."@@ The two of you walk over, moving between students making last-minute adjustments and booths that are dedicated toward games, not countries. You make it to the Nigeria booth, which is very lively indeed. Green and white decorations, some poster boards, images of clothing, food, music, and landmarks, in addition to a few larger text sections trying to explain the country. When you stop in front of it, Vincent takes a moment to look everything over before saying, @@.vincent;"This is good."@@ You glance at him. @@.player;"That's a pretty good start."@@ @@.vincent;"I mean it,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"A lot of booths fall into the trap of treating a country as if it's one perfectly unified cultural object. One language, one cuisine, one aesthetic, one neat little national identity. This one is trying its best not to do that."@@ You look back at the display. @@.player;"Does it, like, mention different groups? I didn't really bother to read the text."@@ @@.vincent;"It does mention different groups, yes,"@@ Vincent confirms, sounding glad you asked. @@.vincent;"That matters a lot. A lot of people tend to only mention English, the official language, and one of the major indigenous languages. The people who made this booth actually went out of their way to write down facts about ten different languages. I don't expect anyone to go through every language spoken in Nigeria, there are hundreds, but I think ten is a very good number that shows that they did their research."@@ @@.player;"Vinny, are you just happy that they actually did their homework?"@@ you ask, chuckling. @@.vincent;"I am!"@@ You move a little farther down the table. There are sections on jollof rice, Afrobeats, Nollywood, and traditional clothing. Vincent studies each part with a focused expression, clearly racking his brain to see if it's accurate or not. But for the most part, he seems quite impressed. @@.vincent;"Mentioning Nollywood is really smart,"@@ Vincent says, @@.vincent;"They mentioned film. A lot of students would forget that entirely, but Nollywood is such an obvious and important inclusion if you're trying to talk about modern culture."@@ @@.player;"You sound genuinely happy about movies,"@@ you say, glancing over. @@.player;"I thought you only cared about history, not modern culture."@@ @@.vincent;"I like both,"@@ Vincent says, sounding disappointed that you thought that of him. @@.vincent;"But for a Culture Festival, I think it's important to explore modern culture. As much as I love history, I'd rather see an accurate depiction of modern culture here than a flattened version of older history."@@ That gets a smile out of you. @@.player;"I'm not sure if I can call you a true history fan after this, Vincent."@@ @@.vincent;"Don't tell anyone,"@@ he begs. @@.vincent;"My reputation would be ruined."@@ @@.player;"So what do you think of it overall?"@@ you ask, trying to get his assessment. @@.player;"It's strong, thoughtful, and nicely done,"@@ Vincent says. But then he pauses. @@.player;"There it is,"@@ you say, catching it. @@.vincent;"There what is?"@@ Vincent asks innocently. @@.vincent;"I don't see anything."@@ @@.player;"The but."@@ Vincent sighs softly, caught. @@.vincent;"Fine. There is, in fact, a but."@@ @@.player;"I knew it."@@ He points towards the picture of Jollof rice. @@.vincent;"Jollof rice is basically a national dish in Nigeria, yes, but it did ''not'' originate there. It actually originated in Senegal. The description is wrong."@@ You lean closer to read it again. @@.player;"Do you think they'll fix it?"@@ @@.vincent;"Maybe if I pointed it out,"@@ Vincent says. Then he laughs. @@.vincent;"But I think I'd get bullied if I did."@@ @@.player;"You probably would,"@@ you say, laughing too. <<elseif $d25spectatorvincentbooth is 2>>\ You look across the courtyard and point. @@.player;"What about the Vietnam booth?"@@ Vincent follows your gaze and nods. @@.vincent;"Yes. Let's go there."@@ You head over together, cutting across the courtyard while the last of the afternoon light catches on all the half-finished displays. The Vietnam booth looks especially polished from a distance. It's bright with photos, lantern decorations, food images, a map, and enough stucture to make it feel well thought out. When you stop in front of it, Vincent approves. @@.vincent;"This is very well done."@@ @@.player;"That was a fast reaction,"@@ you say, glancing at him. @@.player;"Very immediate."@@ @@.vincent;"That's because it deserves immediacy."@@ You smile. @@.player;"Alright then, sell it to me."@@ Vincent looks over the display carefully before speaking. @@.vincent;"For one thing, it's visually coherent. That shouldn't matter as much as it does, but it does. I love history, but I love art too. And beyond that, they've done something I always appreciate. They're not treating the entire country like one homogenous thing."@@ You read one of the cards while he talks. @@.player;"Is it because they mention north and south?"@@ @@.vincent;"That's part of it,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"Regional differences really do matter. Food, history, identity, language, even just how people present themselves. It all shifts. This is good that they included both historical and modern elements."@@ @@.player;"Seems like this one's pretty strong, then,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.vincent;"It is."@@ Vincent looks at the food section and adds, @@.vincent;"And they avoided the very obvious mistake of making the booth entirely about pho."@@ You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Is that really that big of a risk?"@@ @@.vincent;"$name, the only two things most Americans know about Vietnam is the war and the food,"@@ Vincent says, sighing. @@.player;"Have you seen Vietnam misrepresented like that before?"@@ you ask. Vincent looks resigned to his fate. @@.vincent;"Far too many times, yes."@@ You keep reading. There's a section on food, and it's luckily more than pho. One on Tết, one on traditional clothing, and one on how Vietnam's geography has affected its history. Vincent points out a few things as you go, but it doesn't feel like a lecture. You just feel like he's genuinely enjoying having someone to walk through it with. @@.vincent;"I think including Tết was a really nice touch,"@@ he says, pointing toward that section. @@.vincent;"That's basically the most important celebration in Vietnamese culture, but a lot of people have never even heard about it."@@ @@.player;"Uhh,"@@ you say, not quite sure how to phrase this. @@.player;"What's Tết?"@@ Vincent seems a little disappointed, but it's clear he was expecting this answer. @@.vincent;"It's Vietnamese Lunar New Year,"@@ he says. @@.vincent;"And no, it is ''not'' the same as Chinese New Year. One of my favorite parts of it is the Kitchen God ceremony."@@ @@.player;"There's a ceremony centered around Gordon Ramsay?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.vincent;"No,"@@ Vincent says, not sounding all too impressed by your joke. @@.vincent;"It's a ceremony that marks the beginning of the Vietnamese Lunar New Year. They say farewell to these kitchen spirits who apparently ride carp to Heaven. People release live goldfish in rivers to help these gods."@@ @@.player;"I had a betta fish once,"@@ you murmur to yourself. @@.vincent;"What happened to it?"@@ @@.player;"I don't want to say."@@ The two of you move a little farther down the booth, and it's pretty quiet between you. You both are just taking things in comfortably. That is until Vincent makes a small thoughtful noise. @@.player;"There it is,"@@ you say, catching it. @@.vincent;"There what is?"@@ Vincent asks innocently. @@.vincent;"I don't see anything."@@ @@.player;"The but."@@ Vincent sighs softly, caught. @@.vincent;"Fine. There is, in fact, a but."@@ @@.player;"I knew it."@@ He points towards the section about the Vietnam War. @@.vincent;"Vietnamese people refer to that war as the Resistance War Against America to Save the Nation. I think it's a shame that they don't bring that up a single time. A lot of people from Vietnam would frame that history very differently."@@ @@.player;"I mean, I guess I can see that,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But it seems to just be about framing rather than being flat-out wrong. Not the worst mistake in the world."@@ @@.vincent;"You have a point, all the facts are accurate,"@@ Vincent says. @@.vincent;"But these small things often are the harder kind of inaccuracy to notice."@@ You pat Vincent on the shoulder. @@.player;"Don't worry, Vincent. This is a booth made by high schoolers. There's no ulterior motive here, they just didn't know."@@ @@.vincent;"But we need to teach this in high school,"@@ Vincent whimpers out, sounding sad. @@.player;"It'll be alright,"@@ you comfort. <</if>>\ After a while, the two of you eventually drift back out into the open path between displays. Vincent adjusts his glasses, but it's out of force of habit at this point. They sit just fine on his nose. @@.vincent;"I should get going to the library now,"@@ he says, sounding mildly regretful about it. @@.vincent;"I do still need to study calculus."@@ @@.player;"You sound sad about that,"@@ you say. @@.vincent;"It is a tragic fate indeed,"@@ Vincent says. And with that, he runs off to the library. <</if>>\ <<button "Off back home you go" "Day 25 - 26">><</button>>

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25FamilyCheer">>\ You're home, and you do your very best impression of a person who's completely fine. It's very unconvincing, but still. You get through the front door, kick off your shoes, and try to stand as straight as possible. Attempting to pretend like your body isn't currently sending complaint letters from every muscle group. You just barely manage to take off your backpack, dropping it by the door and trying to move through the house with normal human energy. It does not work. Your mom spots you almost immediately. She's in the kitchen, and the second she looks over, she can tell something's off with you. @@.mom;"Honey,"@@ she says, setting down what she was doing. @@.mom;"Are you alright?"@@ @@.player;"I'm fine,"@@ you say automatically. Your mom might've believed if you didn't sound hoarse. @@.mom;"Mhm,"@@ she says with a knowing look. From the table, Lily looks up from the snacks that she's been aggressively working through. She squints at you, inspecting every part of you. She's got a half-open bag of family-sized chips in one hand. @@.lily;"$name, you look like you got hit by a bus,"@@ she comments. @@.player;"Hi to you too,"@@ you shoot back. @@.lily;"I'm serious,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"You look awful."@@ @@.mom;"It's rather obvious,"@@ your mom says, watching you carefully. Lily keeps going. @@.lily;"If you die, I want the life insurance money."@@ @@.mom;"Lily,"@@ your mom warns sternly. @@.lily;"What?"@@ Lily exclaims, not looking guilty at all. @@.lily;"I'm planning ahead."@@ @@.mom;"You're being rude, not planning ahead,"@@ your mom says. @@.lily;"It's called being realistic, Mom."@@ @@.mom;"You are being fourteen, Lily."@@ That gets a tiny smile out of you. That is, until your body reminds you that smiling still uses muscles. You lean one hand against the counter for a second to stabilize yourself, and your mom notices that too. She turns back to you, voice turning gentle. @@.mom;"What happened?"@@ @@.player;"School,"@@ you lie. @@.mom;"P.E. was today?"@@ your mom asks. You can tell by the smirk on her face though that she knows that was yesterday. @@.player;"Yup,"@@ you respond, going along with it. If she's giving you a way out, you're taking it. Lily shoves another chip into her mouth and noms on it. @@.lily;"That explains the haunted look."@@ You glance at her. @@.player;"Can you stop describing me like I'm a corpse?"@@ @@.lily;"No,"@@ Lily says. @@.mom;"$name, you need some food in your system,"@@ your mom says, gently ruffling your hair. You almost brush that off at first. You're too tired to think properly, too sore, too generally wrecked. But then your stomach catches up all at once. Suddenly, you realize you're actually fucking starving. This isn't the usual kind of hungry either. This is your body begging for some calories. You have to swallow back some saliva. Your mom smiles just a little. @@.mom;"There it is,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"I was waiting for that."@@ @@.player;"I think I'm going to die,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"You won't be dying from starvation anytime soon,"@@ Lily jabs. @@.player;"Food..."@@ you murmur. Lily snorts. Your mom reaches out and gives your arm a comforting rub. @@.mom;"Sit down,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"I'll make you something warm."@@ You hesitate. @@.player;"You don't have to–"@@ @@.mom;"I don't have to do anything,"@@ your mom states clearly. @@.mom;"I'm doing this because I want to."@@ It's hard to argue with that. Lily crunches on another chip. @@.lily;"Make him a giant baby bottle."@@ @@.mom;"Lily."@@ @@.lily;"What? He needs nutrients."@@ @@.player;"Once I have energy, I'm going to steal all your snacks and hide them,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"You're too weak,"@@ she says. Your mom laughs softly under her breath, then looks back at you. @@.mom;"Alright. Would you rather have kimchi fried rice or a grilled cheese sandwich?"@@ <<button "I want kimchi fried rice" "Day 25 - 27">>\<<set $d25cheerfood to true>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_food" "Kimchi fried rice" "story">><</button>> <<button "I want a grilled cheese sandwich" "Day 25 - 27">>\<<set $d25cheerfood to false>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_food" "Grilled cheese" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25FamilySpectator">>\ You get home pretty early. Your mom looks up from the kitchen when you come home. @@.mom;"Oh,"@@ she says, a little surprised, @@.mom;"you're home right after school."@@ You slip off your shoes and glance over. @@.player;"Yeah, I am,"@@ you say. From the table, Lily looks up too, a pencil in one hand and a math workbook spread open in front of her. She narrows her eyes at you for a second, then says, @@.lily;"Wow. $name actually came home right after school for the first time in a while."@@ You laugh a little as you walk in. @@.player;"I've been busy lately."@@ @@.lily;"That's true,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"You've been weirdly absent. I was starting to think you got adopted by some second family."@@ Your mom gives her a look over her shoulder. @@.mom;"Lily."@@ @@.lily;"What?"@@ she says. @@.lily;"It was a little dramatic, but not inaccurate. It could be true."@@ You shake your head as you make your way into the kitchen. @@.player;"It's not that deep. I just have friends, unlike you."@@ @@.lily;"I guarantee all your friends are imaginary,"@@ Lily says, flipping the pencil around between her fingers. @@.lily;"I'm just saying, if you want to stay out for a while sometimes, that's fine with me."@@ You look at her. @@.player;"That's so generous."@@ @@.lily;"It is,"@@ she says seriously. @@.lily;"I quite like having the house to myself."@@ @@.player;"It's //our// home,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"It's peaceful,"@@ Lily says, nodding. @@.lily;"I can walk around in my natural habitat."@@ @@.player;"Natural habitat?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. @@.player;"I suppose you //are// a beast."@@ @@.lily;"I'm not a beast,"@@ Lily shoots back. @@.lily;"Actually, no, maybe I am. But, like, a really pretty tiger."@@ Your mom laughs softly under her breath while she moves something around on the counter. @@.mom;"Lily, all you do is sit on the couch in pajama pants eating snacks."@@ @@.lily;"That's just peak living,"@@ Lily says. You smile a little at that and pull out a chair. @@.player;"So you want me gone for your own personal convenience. Good to know."@@ Lily points her pencil at you. @@.lily;"No, no. I'm saying I support your social life."@@ @@.player;"I don't think that's the actual point you're making,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"How would you know?"@@ You lean back in the chair and glance at the workbook in front of you. @@.player;"How long have you been pretending to do math?"@@ Lily doesn't look too happy with that. @@.lily;"I am not pretending."@@ @@.player;"You look pretty miserable for someone making progress."@@ @@.lily;"That's because this is ''evil'' math,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"It's not regular math."@@ Your mom turns back toward the both of you, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. @@.mom;"Well, since you're home early, do you want to help me out in here for a bit?"@@ she asks. You glance over at her. @@.player;"With what?"@@ @@.mom;"Just some food preparation,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"Nothing too hard."@@ Before you can answer, Lily makes a strangled sound from the table and flops dramatically over her workbook. @@.lily;"Wait, $name,"@@ she says, stretching a hand out desperately. @@.lily;"No. I'm struggling with this math homework and need help."@@ You blink. @@.player;"I thought you were doing fine."@@ @@.lily;"I was lying,"@@ Lily says. @@.player;"I suppose that was obvious,"@@ you say, letting out a small sigh. She pushes the workbook a little closer toward you, looking pained. @@.lily;"I hate variables and expressions and all of this."@@ Your mom smiles. @@.mom;"I did ask first."@@ @@.lily;"But I need help first,"@@ Lily counters. @@.mom;"You'd be fine if you studied properly,"@@ your mom says. @@.mom;"You need patience."@@ @@.lily;"I need $name,"@@ Lily says, as if this explains everything. You look between them. Your mom is standing in the kitchen with a sweet, hopeful expression. It's clear she would genuinely like the help. Lily's glaring at her math workbook. It's probably stressed her out. Sitting between the two of them, you find yourself wondering who you should help. <<button "Help Mom" "Day 25 - 27">>\<<set $d25spectatorhelp to true>>\<<trackChoice "D25_spectator_help" "Help Mom" "story">><</button>> <<button "Help Lily" "Day 25 - 27">>\<<set $d25spectatorhelp to false>>\<<trackChoice "D25_spectator_help" "Help Lily" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<if $d25cheerfood is true>>\ @@.player;"I think I want the kimchi fried rice,"@@ you say, finally coming to a decision. Your mom smiles, pleased with the answer. @@.mom;"Good choice,"@@ she says, already turning back toward the stove. @@.mom;"That'll definitely wake you up a little."@@ Lily, still getting through the family-sized bag, looks at you with a disappointed expression. @@.lily;"Really?"@@ she says. @@.lily;"You?"@@ @@.player;"What do you mean?"@@ you ask. @@.lily;"I mean that you can barely handle spice,"@@ Lily says, gesturing at you with a chip. @@.lily;"You're going to eat two bites and burst into flames."@@ @@.player;"I can handle spice just fine."@@ @@.lily;"No, you can't."@@ Your mom laughs as she starts pulling things together in the kitchen. @@.mom;"He can handle some spice."@@ Lily makes a face. @@.lily;"No. Mom, be serious. You don't have to be nice. He does that thing often where he says it's fine and then drinks the entire pitcher."@@ @@.player;"That only happened one time,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"Dude, it's happened, like, seven times now."@@ Your mom pulls out the pan and starts moving around the kitchen. It's clear by the way she moves that she's done this thousands of times. @@.mom;"I'll make it mild,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"Not too spicy."@@ @@.lily;"I think mild is still too much for him,"@@ Lily comments. @@.lily;"Maybe he should just eat fried rice without the kimchi."@@ @@.mom;"I'm not changing the dish now,"@@ your mom says, looking down at the chopped-up kimchi. @@.mom;"We're past the point of no return for kimchi fried rice."@@ You sink down into a chair while she gets started, just listening to the sounds of cooking. The scrape of the spatula, the clink of bowls, the soft rush of fire from the stove. Just sitting there while someone else does the hard work of making food for you makes you feel better already. @@.lily;"Wow,"@@ Lily says, watching you. @@.lily;"He's melting."@@ You sigh. @@.player;"I'm just resting, Lily."@@ @@.lily;"You look like an old man after yard work."@@ @@.player;"You have way too much confidence,"@@ you say, resting your elbow on the table. @@.player;"Maybe life hasn't beaten you down yet."@@ A big grin spreads across Lily's face. @@.lily;"I guess life just loves me!"@@ Your mom glances over her shoulder. @@.mom;"Lily, be a little nicer."@@ @@.lily;"I am being nice,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"I'm keeping him alert. You know how when people with hypothermia feel really sleepy? And if they fall asleep they die? I'm keeping $name alive by making sure he doesn't fall asleep."@@ @@.player;"Lily, we live in California,"@@ you state dryly. @@.player;"It's super warm here, I am not dying of hypothermia."@@ @@.lily;"You never know with climate change,"@@ Lily hums. Your mom adds the rice to the pan, and the smell begins hitting hard. It's warm and savory and comforting. Best of all, though, is just how familiar it is. It reminds you of easier times. Lily lifts her head, inhaling. @@.lily;"Okay, that does smell good."@@ @@.player;"You already have food,"@@ you tell her. @@.lily;"That doesn't mean I can't judge yours."@@ @@.player;"How did I get you as a sister?"@@ you ponder out loud. Your mom starts mixing everything, and that amplifies the aroma even more. @@.lily;"You know,"@@ Lily begins, more casually now, @@.lily;"if it is too spicy for you, I'll take it."@@ @@.player;"You're like a vulture,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"Please, I don't need your food,"@@ Lily says, rolling her eyes. @@.lily;"I'm just saying it'd be sad to let it go to waste if you combusted."@@ Your mom laughs softly. @@.mom;"My cooking is not //that// bad. $name won't combust."@@ @@.lily;"Your food is pretty good,"@@ Lily admits. You smile a little, and your mom sees it. @@.mom;"See?"@@ she says to Lily. @@.mom;"He hasn't even eaten the food yet and he's already looking more alive."@@ @@.lily;"Hmm, he still kind of looks bad, though,"@@ Lily says, pretending not to care. @@.lily;"I guess it's not too horrible, though."@@ @@.mom;"It will be a lot better once he eats,"@@ your mom says. A minute later she starts plating the fried rice. All you can think of though, is how much you appreciated this moment. It was exactly what you needed. <<elseif $d25cheerfood is false>>\ @@.player;"I'm kinda craving a grilled cheese,"@@ you say, having come to a decision. Your mom nods, accepting the answer. @@.mom;"That's a good choice,"@@ she says, already opening the cabinet to get some bread. @@.mom;"That sounds perfect."@@ Lily stares at you for a long moment before letting out the most judgmental little laugh. @@.lily;"Wow."@@ You frown. @@.player;"What's the problem now?"@@ @@.lily;"That is what six-year-olds eat."@@ @@.player;"It is not,"@@ you say, defending yourself. @@.player;"It's a very refined dish for only the best."@@ @@.lily;"Go eat your dinosaur nuggets and apple juice along with that,"@@ she teases. @@.lily;"You're not convincing me that grilled cheese is a refined dish."@@ @@.mom;"Lily, it's comfort food,"@@ your mom says. @@.lily;"It's toddler cuisine,"@@ Lily says. You lean back in your chair. @@.player;"You literally ate dry cereal out of a mug a few weeks ago."@@ @@.lily;"That's not toddler food, $name,"@@ Lily says, speaking as if you missed a very obvious point. @@.lily;"That's, like, food you eat when you're too tired to cook after work. And everyone knows just how hard I work."@@ @@.mom;"What do you do around here, again?"@@ your mom comments, a sly smile on her face. Lily doesn't look happy with that. After a long pause, she says, @@.lily;"I'm moving to a new family."@@ Your mom laughs at that. @@.mom;"Be happy with what you have, Lily."@@ The kitchen starts filling with that warm, buttery smell a minute later. Even Lily's expression changes a little once she catches a whiff of it. She tries to hide it, but you're fast. @@.player;"Interesting,"@@ you comment, smirking. @@.lily;"What's so interesting?"@@ she asks, narrowing her eyes. @@.player;"You, Lily, look kind of jealous."@@ @@.lily;"I'm not jealous,"@@ Lily denies vehemently. @@.lily;"Grilled cheese isn't even //good//."@@ @@.mom;"So if I were to make another one, you wouldn't eat it?"@@ your mom asks. Lily thinks about that. @@.lily;"I mean... I can't say I wouldn't."@@ You shake your head a little, but you're smiling. Sitting down while somebody else cooks for you, smelling the bread toasting and the cheese melting, does something to your emotions. You just feel happy and at ease. Even the aching isn't as bad. Your mom flips the sandwich, and Lily straightens in her seat. @@.lily;"Wait, that looks ''really'' good."@@ You glare at her. @@.player;"I'm not letting you steal my dinner."@@ @@.lily;"I wasn't going to steal it. I just want to evaluate it."@@ You point toward the family-sized bag. @@.player;"Go finish enough chips to feed a whole party."@@ @@.mom;"You can both have some fruit on the side,"@@ your mom says. @@.lily;"Only if it's watermelon-flavored candy,"@@ Lily says. @@.mom;"How do I get my children to eat healthy?"@@ your mom murmurs to herself. You look toward the stove, stomach begging for something to eat. @@.player;"How long until it's done?"@@ @@.mom;"It's almost done,"@@ your mom says. @@.mom;"You're hungrier than you thought, huh?"@@ You nod. @@.player;"A lot hungrier."@@ @@.lily;"Yeah, you really needed something to eat,"@@ Lily whispers, stunningly sincere. You decide to ruin the moment by asking, @@.player;"Who are you and what did you do with my little sister?"@@ @@.lily;"WOW!"@@ Lily exclaims, not pleased. @@.lily;"I'm never going to be nice to you again."@@ Your mom laughs as she sets the grilled cheese down in front of you. @@.mom;"From now on, there'll be less talking, more chewing."@@ It's golden, it's warm, it's gooey. It's just ''perfect''. But what's more perfect than the grilled cheese are the vibes. It really does feel like family. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d25spectatorhelp is true>>\ You glance between them one more time, then push your chair back and stand. @@.player;"I'll help you in the kitchen,"@@ you tell your mom. Lily makes a sad noise. @@.lily;"Wow. I'm so sad, $name. What will I do with my math test?"@@ @@.player;"You're a smart cookie,"@@ you say. @@.player;"You'll survive."@@ @@.lily;"That feels unlikely,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"Also, don't call me a smart cookie."@@ Your mom smiles warmly, and jerks her head gently toward the sink. @@.mom;"Come on, then."@@ Once you're in the kitchen with her, things become quieter. Lily is still at the table behind you somewhere, muttering under her breath at her workbook, but after a minute even that fades into background noise. Up close, it's mostly just you and your mom moving around the kitchen together. All you can hear is the soft sounds of running water and bowls being moved around. Your mom hands you a bunch of vegetables and says. @@.mom;"Start with these. Just wash them well."@@ You take them and turn on the water. @@.player;"That I can do."@@ @@.mom;"I would hope so,"@@ she says, laughing softly. @@.mom;"It's nice having you home early."@@ You keep your eyes on the sink, rinsing the vegetables. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ She nods. @@.mom;"Yes. The house feels better when everyone's here before it gets too late."@@ You smirk. @@.player;"So you like it noisy?"@@ @@.mom;"Of course I don't like it noisy, $name,"@@ your mom clarifies. @@.mom;"I like the people who are making those noises."@@ You smile, and your mom does the same before going back to what she's doing. There's something ''really'' easy about standing there next to her like this. There's no pressure, no need to even have conversation. You're just helping. She works, you work. Simple. After a minute, she glances over at the way you're washing the vegetables and says, @@.mom;"Not too rough."@@ You look at her. @@.player;"I'm just washing it normally."@@ @@.mom;"You're roughing it up,"@@ your mom jokes. @@.player;"I'm going back to help Lily,"@@ you say. @@.player;"She would be nicer."@@ @@.mom;"We both know she wouldn't."@@ The two of you laugh. You rinse the last of them and set them aside, then take the next batch when she passes them over. The two of you end up making a pretty good duo. You're just part of the work, standing beside her while meals for the next week slowly come together. After a while, she asks quietly, @@.mom;"You've seemed busy lately."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"Yeah, I have been busy lately. A lot going on. I've been meeting a lot of new people, too."@@ @@.mom;"Good people, right?"@@ @@.player;"The best,"@@ you reply. Your mom nods, trusting you fully. @@.mom;"That's good."@@ The cold water runs over your hands while you rinse off another vegetable, and the kitchen feels especially nice right now. Your mom trusted you to help, even if it was with a small thing. That feels nice. You were there for her when she needed you. <<elseif $d25spectatorhelp is false>>\ You look at your mom, then at Lily's workbook, and let out a small breath. @@.player;"I'll help Lily out,"@@ you say. Lily brightens instantly. @@.lily;"Yes!"@@ Your mom laughs softly. @@.mom;"Alright. I'll survive."@@ Lily drags the workbook across the table toward you. @@.lily;"Come sit."@@ @@.player;"You are ''so'' dramatic,"@@ you comment. @@.lily;"I'm desperate,"@@ she clarifies. @@.lily;"When have you ever seen me ask you for help?"@@ You pull out your chair beside her and sit down. Once you do, everything narrows into her workbook, the pencil, and the ugly numbers on the page. Lily is sitting there like prealgebra is a crime against humanity. She points at a problem as if she's accusing it of some great crime. @@.lily;"This one."@@ @@.player;"This is a pretty normal question,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"No it's not!"@@ she says. @@.lily;"It's not normal. It's evil."@@ @@.player;"It's not evil, Lily,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I promise you that your math teacher is just trying to help you get ready for Alebra 1 and Algebra 2."@@ @@.lily;"So you're saying there's ''more'' Algebra?"@@ Lily asks, shocked. @@.player;"Yes, and there's also Linear Algebra, but I think that's for college,"@@ you say. Lily looks depressed with that news. @@.lily;"...Anyway, this has fractions and a variable in the same problem. That's evil."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Show me what you've tried."@@ @@.lily;"Why does everyone say that?"@@ Lily groans. @@.player;"I need to know where you got lost,"@@ you explain. @@.lily;"I got lost at the beginning."@@ You frown. @@.player;"That's not helpful."@@ She huffs, but she does shift the notebook closer and show you the pencil marks she's already made. Most of them aren't exactly wrong, but they are deeply confused. You suppose that's at least better than random guessing. You tap the page lightly. @@.player;"Okay. This isn't a terrible start."@@ Lily narrows her eyes. @@.lily;"So it's a good start, then?"@@ @@.player;"I wouldn't say that,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"You're mean!"@@ Lily exclaims, not too happy with what you just said. @@.player;"I'm just being honest."@@ She rolls her eyes, but she's listening now, which is the important part. You start walking her through it one piece at a time. What part of the equation she should simplify first, where she got mixed up, why moving something to the other side changes the sign. Lily keeps interrupting every thirty seconds, sure, but that's only because she's genuinely interested in learning. @@.lily;"Wait, wait, wait,"@@ she says, holding up a hand. @@.lily;"Why is it suddenly a minus now?"@@ @@.player;"Because you moved it across."@@ @@.lily;"But why does moving it always reverse things?"@@ @@.player;"Because you're not actually adding or removing anything, you're just balancing the equation,"@@ you explain. @@.lily;"That sounds fake,"@@ Lily says. @@.player;"Lily,"@@ you say, suddenly getting serious. @@.player;"Math is basically a sequence of fake-sounding truths."@@ @@.lily;"You are so unhelpful,"@@ Lily complains. You scoff. @@.player;"Aren't you the one who asked me for help?"@@ She sticks out her tongue at you. Despite all the banter, though, you can tell she genuinely wants to understand it. She's focusing more than she ever does, unless it involves cute animals. So you slow down even more, breaking the problem into smaller steps until she seems to understand what the hell is going on. When she finally gets one step right on her own, she looks up at you almost suspiciously. @@.lily;"Wait."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.lily;"I did that one right."@@ @@.player;"You did,"@@ you say. @@.lily;"I did it!!!"@@ Lily exclaims, turning toward you with bright eyes. You decide to ruin the moment. @@.player;"That's because I'm a gifted educator."@@ @@.lily;"I hate you,"@@ she responds flatly. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - 28">><</button>>

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<if $d25cheerfood is true>>\ The smell from the bowl alone is enough to make your stomach feel almost angry about just how long it had to wait. @@.mom;"Careful,"@@ your mom says. @@.mom;"It's hot."@@ You nod like you heard her. You mean, you guess you technically //did// hear her. But you really could not care less about what she had to say. It doesn't stop you from digging in almost immediately. The first bite is way too hot, and a normal person may have slowed down at this point. But at this point, you're too hungry for normal-person decisions. Before long, you're eating far faster than you meant to, barely pausing between bites. Lily watches for a few seconds, shocked. She ends up lowering her snack bag and squinting at you. @@.lily;"Wow."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you respond, not even bothering to look up. @@.lily;"I didn't know you were a competitive eater,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"You're like the crazy people at those hot dog eating contests."@@ Your mom laughs softly, leaning against the counter. She watches you with a fond expression, although she does seem surprised that you're eating it that quickly. @@.mom;"Slow down a little,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"I promise you that no one's going to take it."@@ You swallow and point your spoon at Lily. @@.player;"That remains to be seen."@@ @@.lily;"That's rude,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"But you're not too wrong to be worried."@@ You keep eating anyway, and by the time you finally slow down enough to breathe like a civilized human again, an embarrassing amount of the bowl is already gone. <<else>>\ You don't know when you did it, but you've picked up the sandwich. @@.mom;"Careful,"@@ your mom says right away. @@.mom;"It's hot."@@ You nod like you heard her. You mean, you guess you technically //did// hear her. But you really could not care less about what she had to say. It doesn't stop you from digging in almost immediately. The first bite nearly burns your tongue, but it's just so warm and buttery that you have no regrets. Bite after bite disappears faster than it should, and even when you try to slow down a little, your appetite is already too far ahead. Lily stares at you from across the table, shocked. @@.lily;"Oh my God."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you say, still chewing. You can't be bothered to look up right now. @@.lily;"You're inhaling it."@@ @@.player;"I'm just eating."@@ @@.lily;"You are not just eating,"@@ Lily says, laughing incredulously. @@.lily;"You're eating like the food's going to disappear if you don't."@@ That gets a laugh out of your mom. @@.mom;"She's right, you know. Slow down a bit."@@ You take a few more bites before answering. @@.player;"I'm eating slow already."@@ Lily looks at the sandwich. @@.lily;"That is a lie."@@ You keep eating anyway, and by the time you finally slow down enough to breathe like a civilized human again, an embarrassing amount of the sandwich is already gone. <</if>>\ You actually finish eating a minute later, and the speed is impossible not to notice. Your mom, now loading the last few things into the dishwasher, glances back at you and shakes her head a little. @@.mom;"I see that you've been influenced by Luke."@@ You laugh, leaning back in your chair now that your stomach is full. @@.player;"Honestly, I think I could give Luke a run for his money."@@ @@.mom;"That I would pay to see,"@@ your mom says. Lily, who's still munching on her chips, speaks up. @@.lily;"I've always liked Luke."@@ @@.player;"That's because you can bully him without consequences,"@@ you state. Lily shrugs. @@.lily;"You're not wrong,"@@ she says. Then, quietly, @@.lily;"He's still pretty nice, though."@@ You're tired and about to slip into a food coma when your mom turns her full attention back on you. @@.mom;"Come here a second,"@@ she says. You blink. @@.player;"Why?"@@ @@.mom;"Because you still look worn out,"@@ your mom says, already stepping closer. Before you can protest, she's in full mom mode. Fussing over you in that way that's impossible to resist. Her hand brushes lightly over your hair, then to your forehead, then your shoulder. She checks you over as if she can make you feel better with her hands. Maybe she's right, because you're already feeling better. She adjusts your collar a little for no reason other than the fact that mothers can't help themselves when their kids look tired. @@.mom;"You worked too hard today,"@@ she murmurs. @@.player;"I'm fine,"@@ you say automatically. @@.mom;"I know you're fine, but that doesn't mean you're not exhausted,"@@ she retorts. You sit there, very aware of how loved you are, wondering how you should react. <<button "Play it off and joke around" "Day 25 - 29">>\<<set $d25cheerfuss to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_fuss" "Play it off and joke around" "story">><</button>> <<button "Let your mom fuss over you" "Day 25 - 29">>\<<set $d25cheerfuss to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_fuss" "Let your mom fuss over you" "story">><</button>> <<button "Tell your mom to leave you alone" "Day 25 - 29">>\<<set $d25cheerfuss to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_fuss" "Tell your mom to leave you alone" "story">><</button>> <<else>>\ By the time you finish helping, you feel like you're done with your good deed for the day. Maybe even the week. <<if $d25spectatorhelp is true>>\ You were in the kitchen, and now it's looking a lot better. The vegetables are washed, the counters are a little neater, and your mom seems satisfied that everything is prepared for the next few days. <<elseif $d25spectatorhelp is false>>\ You were helping Lily, and there are actual solved math problems on the page now instead of just angry pencil marks. Lily looks less pissed by numbers than she did half an hour ago. <</if>>\ It was enough for your mom to notice. She looks over at you with this warm smile. @@.mom;"$name, you deserve a reward,"@@ she says. You glance up. @@.player;"A reward?"@@ @@.mom;"Of course!"@@ she says, like this is obvious. @@.mom;"You helped a ton."@@ You lean back slightly in your chair and narrow your eyes in playful suspicion. @@.player;"What exactly is this reward?"@@ Your mom smiles. @@.mom;"A snack."@@ You stare at her for a while. @@.player;"Am I a dog, Mom?"@@ Lily, of course, answers before your mom can. @@.lily;"Kind of."@@ You turn toward her immediately. @@.player;"What does that mean?"@@ @@.lily;"I don't know,"@@ Lily says, shrugging. @@.lily;"You did a trick so mom's giving you a snack. That's kind of giving dog."@@ <<if $transgender > 24>>\ @@.player;"Can't you rephrase it to '$name helped and is now getting a reward?'"@@ you plead. <<else>>\ @@.player;"Can't you rephrase it to '$name helped and he is now getting a reward?'"@@ you plead. <</if>>\ @@.lily;"That still sounds like a dog,"@@ Lily states. You sigh, realizing there's nothing you can say that'll change Lily's mind. Your mom laughs softly and wipes her hands on a towel, clearly enjoying both of you way too much. @@.mom;"It's not because you're a dog,"@@ she clarifies. @@.mom;"I just want to give you something for being such a big help."@@ @@.player;"...That kind of sounds like something you'd say to a dog,"@@ you say, Lily suddenly making sense. @@.lily;"Who's a good dog?"@@ Lily coos. @@.player;"Shush,"@@ you shoot back. The three of you are smiling, though. Well, your mom and you are smiling, at least. Lily's mouth is twitching a little. She's trying not to smile back too obviously, because that would make her "cringe." @@.mom;"You were sweet, so now you get something nice,"@@ your mom says, giving your arm a small squeeze. You look away, embarrassed. Maybe not seeing your mom's face will help? It doesn't. @@.lily;"Awwww,"@@ Lily says, dragging it out as long as possible to be annoying. @@.lily;"He's getting emotional over snacks."@@ @@.player;"I am ''not'' emotional,"@@ you deny. @@.lily;"You literally are,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"Look at that face you're making. That's emotion right there."@@ You look at her, doing your best to put on a poker face. @@.player;"I said I wasn't emotional."@@ @@.lily;"Sure,"@@ Lily says, rolling her eyes. Your mom shakes her head fondly. You're bickering, sure, but at the end of the day, she's happy. You're both in the same room healthy and friendly. She knows that this moment doesn't seem important while it's happening, the silence will be deafening once you two aren't in the same home anymore. @@.mom;"Alright,"@@ your mom says, clearing her throat. @@.mom;"So, $name, do you want fruit or chips?"@@ <<button "Ask for fruit" "Day 25 - 29">>\<<set $d25spectatorsnack to true>>\<<trackChoice "D25_spectator_snack" "Fruit" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask for chips" "Day 25 - 29">>\<<set $d25spectatorsnack to false>>\<<trackChoice "D25_spectator_snack" "Chips" "story">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d11joinCheerleaders is true>>\ <<if $d25cheerfuss is 0>>\ You catch your mom's hand lightly before she can smooth down your hair for the third time and give her your best tired look. @@.player;"Please,"@@ you say, @@.player;"I've already survived enough today."@@ Your mom smiles. @@.mom;"Oh, have you?"@@ @@.player;"Yes,"@@ you say. @@.player;"This is a whole lot for a person in my condition."@@ Lily snorts. @@.lily;"What condition?"@@ You look at her. @@.player;"One of hard work."@@ Your mom laughs and keeps fussing anyway, adjusting your clothes with determination. You're sure she knows you're changing into pajamas soon anyway, which makes it sweeter. @@.mom;"$name, you're being dramatic."@@ @@.player;"I am not being dramatic,"@@ you insist. @@.mom;"Just let your mom fix your shirt,"@@ she says, laughing. You can't help but to smile too. @@.player;"Fine."@@ She brushes a hand over your shoulder, then your hair once again, and you lean away a little. Not to show that you seriously don't want it, no. Just because you want to be silly. @@.player;"Mother, please,"@@ you say, in the most formal voice you can manage while half-dead from exhaustion. @@.player;"The child is watching."@@ Lily looks up from her snacks, not happy with the way she's just been referred to. @@.lily;"I'm younger than you by, like, four years. You can't call me a child."@@ @@.player;"I can do whatever I want,"@@ you shoot. @@.player;"I suffered today."@@ @@.lily;"You just got to eat a home-cooked meal. You're not suffering anymore."@@ You shake your head. @@.player;"I got the meal as a reward for my suffering."@@ Your mom shakes her head, but she's been smiling the whole time. @@.mom;"You two are impossible."@@ @@.player;"But you seem to be having such a great time right now,"@@ you say. @@.mom;"That's because I love the both of you,"@@ she explains. Lily makes a face. @@.lily;"Ugh."@@ Your mom taps your shoulder lightly. @@.mom;"Go rest before you become even more ridiculous."@@ You grin, then push yourself up from the chair. Unfortunately for you, even standing up has become an athletic event. You wince. @@.player;"Wow. Okay."@@ @@.lily;"How graceful,"@@ Lily comments. @@.player;"I'm going to ignore that, but only because I'm the bigger person,"@@ you say. Your mom laughs as she gives your arm a small, affectionate squeeze. @@.mom;"Go on, get some rest."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Yeah, but first I need to catch up on some work."@@ And with that, you leave. <<elseif $d25cheerfuss is 1>>\ You don't fight it. Maybe it's because you're too tired to. Or perhaps the way your mom's looking at you lets you know that resisting is pointless. Either way, you just sit there and let her fuss. Hell, you wouldn't admit it, but there's a part of you that kind of wants to be fussed over. Either way, you just sit there and let her fuss. Her hand smooths back your hair gently before moving down to your shoulder. She brushes some wrinkles out of your shirt, adjusts your collar a little, and gives you a soft, worried little smile. It's clear she can tell just how tired you are, even as you try to hide it. @@.mom;"$name, you worked too hard today,"@@ she says quietly. You let out a small breath, looking down for a second. @@.player;"Maybe I did."@@ @@.mom;"It's not a maybe,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"More like a definitely."@@ You lean into her hand a little without really meaning to, and she notices. Of course she notices. Her expression softens and she strokes your hair slowly. The same way she probably did when you were little and had a fever or came home from school wrung out. Lily, from the table, is uncharacteristically quiet for a second. Then she says, @@.lily;"He did look really exhausted when he came in. He needed some food."@@ You glance over, surprised by the fact that it isn't a light insult. Lily shrugs. @@.lily;"You really did need to eat."@@ Your mom nods. @@.mom;"Trust me, I know."@@ You sit there for a while, warm from the food in your stomach. You just let yourself have this moment for once. It's embarrassingly easy to feel younger like this, sitting in the kitchen while your mom smooths your hair and acts like the solution to being overworked is still just being looked after for a little while. Eventually, you give her a weak smile. @@.player;"I'm okay."@@ @@.mom;"I know,"@@ she says softly. @@.mom;"But that doesn't mean I can't take care of you."@@ You have nothing to say back to it. So you just nod as she rubs your shoulder. After a while, her hand falls away from it, though. She's already sensed that you need to do something else now. You push yourself up from the chair, and it's not nearly as painful anymore. @@.player;"I think I'm gonna go back to my room,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But I need to catch up on some work first."@@ Your mom gives one last nod. @@.mom;"Alright."@@ <<elseif $d25cheerfuss is 2>>\ <<set $momRelo to Math.clamp($momRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ The fussing sucks. You don't know why, exactly. Maybe it's because you're sore or because you're tired enough that everything feels weird on your skin. The whole day has stacked up on top of you until even something gentle starts feeling like too much. Whatever the reason, when your mom reaches up to fix your hair again, you pull back a little and say, @@.player;"Mom, just leave me alone."@@ The words come out sharper than you mean them to, making the whole kitchen go quiet. Your mom's hand stills before she lets it fall. The look on her face makes your stomach drop. You kind of wish it were anger, but it's not. She seems hurt, like she didn't expect this when all she wanted to do was to make you feel better. @@.mom;"I understand,"@@ she says, still doing her best anyway. @@.mom;"Sometimes you just need to be left alone."@@ Lily looks up from the table, no longer munching on her snacks. You feel awful the second those words left your mouth, but the tired part of you doesn't have the energy to fix it right away. So all you really do is sit there in the silence you created. Your mom gives a small nod. @@.mom;"You can rest, $name. I won't bother you anymore."@@ You look away before finally managing to say, @@.player;"I'm just... I'm tired."@@ @@.mom;"I know you are,"@@ she says. @@.mom;"You need time to yourself right now to rest and recuperate. Trust me, I get it."@@ The fact that she's so considerate even when you snapped at her makes you feel worse. She was only trying to take care of you. Lily doesn't say anything. You swallow once and reach for the easiest exit you can find. @@.player;"I'm going to go back to my room,"@@ you say. @@.player;"But first, I need to catch up on some work."@@ Your mom nods. @@.mom;"Okay."@@ And with that, you turn to leave. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<if $d25spectatorsnack is true>>\ @@.player;"I think I'd prefer fruit,"@@ you say. Your mom nods right away. @@.mom;"Alright,"@@ she says, already moving toward the fridge. @@.mom;"What about mango?"@@ @@.player;"That sounds good,"@@ you respond. @@.player;"Mango."@@ The second the word leaves your mouth, Lily laughs. It's not huge, but a sharp little burst that is ''way'' too specific. You turn toward her, suspicious. @@.player;"What are you laughing at?"@@ Lily is already trying and failing to look innocent. @@.lily;"Nothing."@@ @@.player;"That was not a nothing laugh."@@ She shrugs, still smirking. @@.lily;"You're too old to understand the joke."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"Lily, I'm eighteen."@@ @@.lily;"Exactly,"@@ Lily says. @@.lily;"Too old to understand."@@ @@.player;"Too old to understand //what//?"@@ you ask, genuinely perplexed now. @@.lily;"Those who know,"@@ she replies, the smug grin still on her face. Your mom, already slicing the mango with the calm patience of someone who has accepted that the conversations in this house are far beyond her understanding, shakes her head a little. @@.mom;"I've given up trying to understand young people jokes."@@ @@.player;"You and me both,"@@ you say. Lily laughs again, clearly delighted with herself now, but refuses to elaborate. @@.lily;"It's okay,"@@ she says. @@.lily;"You just had to be there."@@ @@.player;"Be where?"@@ you ask, desperate for an explanation. @@.lily;"TikTok."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, I'm good,"@@ you say, letting out a loud sigh. It's probably just the latest trendy meme that would die in a week. Your mom sets the cut mango in a bowl and hands it over with a little smile. @@.mom;"Here. Ignore her and just eat the mango."@@ Lily laughs even louder. You take it gratefully. @@.player;"I'll do my best."@@ You sit there and eat, doing your best to ignore Lily's giggling. The mango is cold and sweet and way better than it has any right to be. Lily keeps smiling like she knows something you don't. Your mom pretends not to notice the nonsense. By the time you finish the bowl, you feel pretty satisfied. You set it down, push your chair back, and stand up. @@.player;"I'm gonna head back to my room,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Need to finish up some work."@@ Your mom nods. @@.mom;"Alright, honey."@@ @@.lily;"Try not to age any more on the walk there, fossil!"@@ Lily says. @@.player;"You'll be eighteen too soon enough,"@@ you say to her. @@.lily;"God, I don't want to be old,"@@ she says. And with that, you head back to your room. <<elseif $d25spectatorsnack is false>>\ @@.player;"I'd prefer the chips,"@@ you say. Your mom nods, then heads for the pantry and comes back a second later holding a family-sized bag. Her expression is unusually serious, as if this is a privilege, not a right. @@.mom;"Here,"@@ she says, handing it over. @@.mom;"Just make sure you clip it and store it properly once you're done."@@ You take the bag, grateful. @@.player;"I will."@@ Lily is not happy. @@.lily;"What?"@@ Lily shouts, sitting up straighter. @@.lily;"No. I claimed that bag."@@ You look at her, then at the chips in your hands. @@.player;"Mom gave it to me."@@ @@.lily;"That doesn't mean I unclaimed it,"@@ she shoots back. @@.player;"I don't care if you claimed it,"@@ you state. @@.player;"Mom gave it to me."@@ @@.lily;"Mom, are you okay with this?"@@ Lily asks, desperate. @@.mom;"Yeah?"@@ your mom says, perplexed. @@.mom;"There are other snacks too, you know."@@ @@.lily;"None of these other snacks can compare,"@@ Lily mutters, seeming disappointed by the fact that the whole house has turned against her. You open the bag before she can make a stronger argument. Lily watches with deep offense for a few seconds before leaning over and stealing some right out of the open bag while you're still holding it. @@.player;"Wow,"@@ you say. @@.player;"So you're just committing a crime now."@@ @@.lily;"It's not like you were going to finish this family bag alone anyway,"@@ Lily argues. @@.player;"Why did you not want me to eat it if you knew that?"@@ you ask, confused. It's not like she wouldn't get any. @@.lily;"I wanted to be the one to open it,"@@ Lily says, as if this clears everything up. @@.lily;"That means it's spiritually my bag."@@ You look at your mom. @@.player;"Are you hearing this?"@@ @@.mom;"You know, I think she has a point,"@@ your mom says, smiling. @@.player;"What's happened to my family?"@@ you ask, confused. Lily takes another handful. @@.lily;"Mom's realized who the best child is."@@ You shake your head. The two of you end up eating out of the same bag while your mom moves around the kitchen, clearly pleased that you're both home and fed and arguing over something as small and stupid as chips. At one point Lily glances over and says, quite sincerely, @@.lily;"You did help today, though."@@ @@.player;"Wow, that was genuine,"@@ you say. She immediately ruins it by reaching into the bag again. @@.lily;"Don't make me regret it."@@ You laugh under your breath and decide to just let her have it. By the time you're done, the bag is noticably lighter. Lily claims that that proves she was right to get involved. You roll it up, find a clip, and hold it out for your mom to see. @@.player;"Look,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Responsible."@@ @@.mom;"Indeed,"@@ your mom replies. @@.player;"Anyway, I'm going back to my room,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I need to finish some work."@@ @@.mom;"Okay, honey,"@@ your mom says. Lily reaches for the bag. @@.lily;"I'll keep this safe."@@ And with that, you head back to your room. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $adultPref > 0>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - Masturbation 1">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - 30">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d25lukeexcited is true>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo + 3, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"I'm excited,"@@ you say, and the words barely leave your mouth before Luke lights up. @@.luke;"Yes,"@@ Luke says, pumping his fist. @@.luke;"That's ''exactly'' the energy I need. That's perfect. That's audience synergy."@@ You snort, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder while Luke looks absurdly pleased with himself. He's so happy that you almost forget that he just admitted to stealing from his preteen siblings before school. If anything, that seems to only make the whole thing more thrilling for him. @@.luke;"I knew this would work,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"You saw the hat and immediately understood something important was happening, right?"@@ @@.player;"That is ''not'' what happened,"@@ you tell him. Luke ignores you, already too deep into it. He tucks the wand under one arm and starts rummaging through his bag for whatever prop he's planning to unleash first, muttering to himself about @@.luke;"opening strong for $name."@@ <<elseif $d25lukeexcited is false>>\ <<set $lukeRelo to Math.clamp($lukeRelo - 5, 0, 100)>>\ @@.player;"Not at all,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Actually, this kind of ruined my day."@@ The change in Luke's face is kind of awful. He seems to deflate a little, some of his usual happy energy having leaked out. The grin disappears and his shoulders drop a little. Even the stupid top hat he's wearing looks sadder somehow. @@.luke;"Oh,"@@ he says, then tries to laugh it off awkwardly. @@.luke;"Alright."@@ You feel a little bad, though not enough to stop being annoyed at the entire situation. He did ambush you in the morning wearing a top hat, confessing to a robbery. Luke is just rolling the wand between his fingers, suddenly seeming a lot less sure of himself than he did a few seconds ago. @@.luke;"I just thought it could help since you had your auditions yesterday and was really nervous,"@@ he mutters. @@.luke;"I figured this might make you laugh first thing in the morning."@@ He lets out a loud sigh. @@.luke;"Well, I'll do it anyway, since I spent a while getting ready for it. Just watch."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Luke magic" "Day 25 - 4">><</button>>

<<if $defaultjammies is 0>>\ <<set $top to 11>>\ <<set $pants to 8>>\ <<elseif $defaultjammies is 1>>\ <<set $top to 30>>\ <<set $pants to 23>>\ <</if>>\ You get into bed and you can immediately feel that sleep is going to hit you hard tonight. You won't be stuck in that annoying half-awake phase where you're not sure which dimension you're in. You will sleep, and you will sleep well. You pull the blanket up, settle deep into the pillow, and let out a long breath. Tomorrow is the Culture Festival. There'll be booths, there'll be displays, there will be weird little activity stands. Some will be well-made and others will be so bad that they loop back around to being charming. You want to walk around and take it all in with your two best friends. See what people put together. Luke will probably not understand anything and just eat everything he can see. Samantha will probably insult Luke the whole time and try to get him to eat something really spicy. That sounds fun. Tomorrow, you think, you'll probably start with– zzzzz <<button "End of Content 0.35" "End of Content 0.35">><</button>>

Luke plants his feet a little wider, takes a deep breath, and begins. @@.luke;"Okay, ladies and gentlemen,"@@ he says, lowering his voice into what is probably meant to resemble a magician. @@.luke;"For my opening act, I will perform the oldest and most legendary trick in the world."@@ @@.player;"You're not going to pull a rabbit out of that hat, are you?"@@ you ask, concerned. @@.luke;"Not yet,"@@ Luke says, wagging his finger. Did he seriously just say 'yet?' After a few seconds of rustling through his bag, he straightens up with a deck of cards in one hand and the flattened remains of the box in the other. Half the cards are either slightly bent or have soft corners. The box has a big tear down one side. @@.player;"How did you manage to destroy a brand-new deck of cards in less than a day?"@@ you ask, raising an eyebrow. Luke glances down at the wreckage in his hand, then back up at you. @@.luke;"They //were// brand new,"@@ he explains. @@.luke;"At least before I borrowed it from the twins. I don't know what happened exactly. I think some of it was practice damage. Also, there was one incident with a juice box. Then it went into my bag. Uh. Yeah."@@ @@.player;"I mean... I guess that makes sense,"@@ you say, nodding. Luke continues his performance. He tucks the ruined box under one arm, holds the deck in both hands, and starts shuffling. Calling it shuffling, though, is quite generous. The cards slide against each other unevenly, several go crooked immediately, and one nearly slips free before he catches it against his sleeve. It looks less like a card trick and more like the deck is desperately trying to make an escape. Still, Luke recovers fast, clears his throat, and says. @@.luke;"Pick a card, any card,"@@ in the most dramatic voice he can manage. You slide one out from the middle. You look at the five of hearts for a second, committing it to memory. @@.player;"Alright, I've got it memorized."@@ @@.luke;"Excellent, now return it to the deck."@@ You do, pushing it back where he indicates. Luke shuffles the deck a little too fast before stopping and pulling out a card with a flourish. @@.luke;"Behold,"@@ Luke says, holding it out between two fingers. @@.luke;"Your card."@@ You look at it, and see the three of clubs. @@.player;"Luke, that's not my card,"@@ you say. Luke freezes for a moment, then scoffs like you're the one being unreasonable. @@.luke;"Okay, weird,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"No, no, no. That's fine. That was just the practice reveal. Sometimes, the first reveal is a feint, $name. To lull the audience into a false sense of comfort."@@ You have to hold in a laugh. @@.player;"I'm not sure that's what really happened."@@ Luke yanks out another card, points it toward you, and gives you a hopeful look. @@.luke;"Now, this is your card."@@ You check. King of diamonds. @@.player;"Still no,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"No?"@@ Luke asks, looking nervous now. @@.player;"Not even close."@@ @@.luke;"That's impossible,"@@ Luke says, frowning at the deck. @@.luke;"You definitely put it back in the deck, right?"@@ @@.player;"Yes, Luke."@@ @@.luke;"In the same deck?"@@ You just stare at him. He exhales through his nose, then squares up for a third attempt with determination. @@.luke;"Okay,"@@ he says. @@.luke;"No more messing around."@@ He taps the side of the deck against his palm and slowly pulls out a third card. This one he reveals with both hands, like him being extra might somehow improve the accuracy. @@.luke;"$name, this is your card."@@ You take one look at the jack of spades and immediately shake your head. @@.player;"Nope."@@ Luke stares at you. You stare back. The two of you just stand there quietly. Then Luke, offended, says, @@.luke;"Okay, no. That's on you. You did it wrong."@@ @@.player;"I did not pick a card wrong,"@@ you say, letting out a laugh. @@.luke;"You absolutely did,"@@ Luke insists, pointing the card at you like evidence. @@.luke;"I told you to pick a card, memorize it, and put it back. If the trick failed three times in a row, statistically, that must mean the audience is compromised."@@ @@.player;"It's just me, and I did exactly what you asked me to do."@@ @@.luke;"You might've returned it with bad energy. Or maybe your vibes messed up the deck."@@ @@.player;"My vibes messed up the deck,"@@ you repeat. Luke nods firmly. @@.luke;"That is currently my professional opinion."@@ <<button "Take two" "Day 25 - 5">><</button>>

Luke refuses to let the card disaster count as a real loss. @@.luke;"That trick was compromised,"@@ he says, shoving the battered deck back into his bag. @@.luke;"We're moving on to a different category with stronger material."@@ @@.player;"Is this one actually going to work this time?"@@ you ask, chuckling. @@.luke;"Of course it will,"@@ he says, pulling a coin out of his pocket. It's not a normal nickel or quarter, it's a big, shiny coin engraved with a tiny magician in a cape and top hat. @@.player;"That's a fake coin,"@@ you say. @@.luke;"It's not fake,"@@ Luke argues. @@.luke;"It's special."@@ @@.player;"Luke, it has a little wizard man on it."@@ @@.luke;"That is a magician,"@@ he says, lifting it high. @@.luke;"Show some respect, please. Anyway, stand still. I am going to pull a coin from behind your ear."@@ @@.player;"You're doing //that//?"@@ you ask, chuckling. @@.luke;"I absolutely am,"@@ he says, already moving one hand carefully. @@.luke;"This is a classic. The public love it."@@ You look around at the nothing around you. @@.player;"There is no public."@@ Luke ignores you, instead slowly reaching his hand toward your ear. As soon as it gets close, he immediately fumbles it. You both hear the little metallic sound of metal hitting concrete before either of you really process what happened. The coin bounces off his fingers, hits the sidewalk, and starts rolling away with alarming speed. @@.luke;"Oh crap!"@@ Luke says, lunging after it. You watch him miss by an inch. He gets back up and jogs after the coin down the sidewalk while it wobbles forward. You think he's going to get it until it hits the grate. There's a loud metallic noise, then a pause. The coin has dropped cleanly through. @@.luke;"No way,"@@ Luke says, crouching instantly. @@.luke;"No, no, no. That's insane."@@ He drops to one knee and peers through the gaps in between the metal. He tries reaching for it, but his fingers don't get anywhere near deep enough. @@.player;"Luke, it's gone."@@ @@.luke;"I'm literally almost touching it,"@@ Luke says. @@.player;"You are not even a little touching it."@@ @@.luke;"But... that was the magic coin,"@@ Luke says, genuinely stricken. You blink. @@.player;"Just replace it with a quarter or something."@@ @@.luke;"I can't do that, man,"@@ Luke says. @@.player;"Why not?"@@ you ask, confused. @@.luke;"Because this coin has a magician etched onto it,"@@ he says, scandalized. You look at him, speechless. @@.luke;"That's part of the whole theme,"@@ he says, gesturing helplessly at the grate. @@.player;"Luke, it's a coin,"@@ you mutter. @@.luke;"It's a prop,"@@ Luke argues. You let out a long sigh and rub a hand over your face while Luke gives the grate one last mournful look, as if he's attending a funeral. For another few seconds he just crouches there, clearly weighing whether it would be worth ripping the grate off before school. Then he reluctantly pushes himself back to his feet. @@.luke;"Okay,"@@ he says, straightening the top hat sadly. @@.luke;"Fine. The coin has been lost to history."@@ @@.player;"I can give you a quarter,"@@ you offer, trying to make him feel better. @@.player;"They're basically the same size."@@ @@.luke;"It just isn't the same,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"But at least I have one last trick."@@ <<button "One more?" "Day 25 - 6">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D25LukeMagic">>\ Luke looks so serious about the last trick that you decide to not make fun of him. Not because you think it's going to work. No, it'll certainly fail. After the card trick collapsed on impact and the coin trick literally disappeared into the sewers, you're not expecting much. But there's something about him and his top hat that makes it hard to not be at least a little curious. @@.luke;"This one requires audience participation,"@@ Luke says, tone deep like he's about to perform something ancient and forbidden. You raise an eyebrow. @@.player;"Why do you sound... so ominous?"@@ @@.luke;"It's not ominous,"@@ he says, already having stepped back. @@.luke;"Just close your fist."@@ You look at him for a second, then shrug and hold one hand out before curling it into a fist. Luke doesn't touch you. He doesn't even come close, which only makes the whole thing feel way dumber. He's still standing a safe distance away, watching you intensely. @@.player;"You know, for a grand finale, this really isn't that dramatic,"@@ you say, unable to help yourself. Luke points at you immediately. @@.luke;"Do not ruin the concentration."@@ @@.player;"I'm just saying, if I open my hand and it's somehow another wrong card, I'm going home."@@ @@.luke;"You won't have to worry,"@@ Luke says. @@.luke;"Just be quiet and commit to the experience."@@ You laugh and shake your head, but you keep your fist closed. Honestly, you're just waiting for the trick to fail in some new, creative way. Maybe he'll tell you to imagine an object and then act like that was the trick. He might just claim the real magic was friendship. At this point, your standards are nowhere to be seen. Luke narrows his eyes, lifts one hand, and says, @@.luke;"Okay. Now open it."@@ You do, and there's a candy wrapper in your hand. For a second, your brain just stops. It's small and crinkled, sure, but it's completely, undeniably real. You know for a fact that there was nothing there before. You stare at it, slowly moving your hand around as if that's somehow going to explain it. Then you look back up at Luke fast. Luke breaks into the brightest grin yet, pure triumph etched over his face. @@.luke;"Magic,"@@ he says simply, like that settles the matter. @@.player;"What the hell?"@@ you mutter, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You look back at your hand, then at him again. @@.player;"What the hell, Luke? How did you do that?"@@ Luke just smiles wider, thrilled that something finally worked. He adjusts his top hat with smugness. @@.luke;"A magician never reveals his secrets,"@@ he says. @@.player;"No, dude, Luke, seriously,"@@ you say, still staring at the wrapper. @@.player;"How did you do that? You didn't even touch me. You weren't anywhere near me."@@ @@.luke;"The true art of magic exists beyond ordinary understanding,"@@ Luke says, making a mystical sort of gesture. @@.player;"That is ''not'' an answer."@@ @@.luke;"It's the only answer you're getting."@@ You laugh once, still freaked out. @@.player;"That's impossible. I'm serious. You were over there."@@ @@.luke;"And yet the wrapper was in your hand."@@ @@.player;"Luke, please tell me,"@@ you beg. He just starts walking toward school, grinning to himself. @@.luke;"Can't."@@ @@.player;"Luke."@@ @@.luke;"Magician's code."@@ @@.player;"Luke!"@@ He only glances over at you, still smiling like an idiot, and says nothing else. <<button "Mage Luke??" "Day 25 - 7">><</button>>

Homeroom is as sleepy as usual. People are napping, desperately hoping to get a few more minutes of sleep in before the day officially begins. Some people doomscroll, their thumbs never leaving their screens. One guy has his eyes closed and earbuds in. You head to your usual seat, and Jessica is already there beside yours. She's the only one in the class, other than Ms. Carter, who's actually awake. She glances over when you drop into your seat, then gives you a quick once-over. @@.jessica;"You look weirdly awake,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"I don't know if I trust it, really. There's something going on."@@ @@.player;"The something is that I somehow managed to wake up before my alarm today,"@@ you say, setting your bag down. @@.jessica;"Alright, that makes sense,"@@ Jessica says, humming. @@.jessica;"I get pretty suspicious when someone at Pacific Crest isn't tired in the morning."@@ Before you can answer, the bell rings. The sleepy people are, much to their dismay, jolted awake. Ms. Carter claps her hands at the front of the room to gather attention. She waits for everyone to get out of dreamland and off their phones and actually pay attention with patience. She has been dealing with every possible version of teenage nonsense for years, after all. @@.girl;"Alright, everybody,"@@ she says once the room has settled. @@.girl;"Today is our turn to explore some of the Culture Festival prep before everything officially begins tomorrow."@@ That kind of gets people's attention. A few heads lift. Someone asks, @@.boy;"Right now?"@@ Ms. Carter smiles, amused. @@.girl;"Yes, right now,"@@ she confirms. @@.girl;"A lot of the booths and activity spaces are in setup mode, so this is your chance to look around, give suggestions if people want them, help decorate if you're wanting to be useful, or just check things out before the actual festival begins."@@ The room perks up after that. It's clear that people are excited to "check things out." In actuality, wandering around until the bell sounds pretty good. Ms. Carter lets the noise go on for a second, then raises one hand. @@.girl;"You are going with your homeroom buddy. So pair up and go wild."@@ There's a ripple of confusion after that. A couple people laugh, while one boy says, @@.boy;"Go wild?"@@ in a tone that suggests they think this is a trap. @@.girl;"Yes, you heard what I said,"@@ Ms. Carter says, not backing down. @@.girl;"Go wild. Within reason, of course. School-appropriate wild. You know what I mean."@@ Nobody really looks like they know what she means. Ms. Carter exhales through her nose and waves a hand toward the door. @@.girl;"Oh for heaven's sake. Scram. Go look at the festival prep, be helpful, be normal if possible. Let me enjoy ten minutes of grading papers in peace."@@ That gets a laugh out of the room, and once people realize she's serious, chairs start scraping back all at once. The class gets into motion. You turn your head toward Jessica just as she looks back at you. @@.jessica;"Well, I guess we're legally obligated to pair up, huh?"@@ she says, pushing herself up. @@.player;"You sound thrilled,"@@ you say as you stand. @@.jessica;"C'mon, you're my homeroom buddy,"@@ she says, a tiny smile at the corner of her mouth. @@.jessica;"Try not to make it weird."@@ @@.player;"No promises."@@ @@.jessica;"That is a terrible start, $name,"@@ she mutters. Then the two of you head out of the classroom together. <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - 8">><</button>>

Once you and Jessica get out into the courtyard, the whole school feels different. Not because anything is fully done yet. Not even close, actually. There are a bunch of student council members doing their very best to get this working. Tables are being dragged into place, decorations are going up, and people are carrying boxes. There's color everywhere already, bits of paper and fabric moving in the breeze, displays catching the morning light. Nothing is fully done yet, but you can just tell tomorrow's going to be loud. @@.jessica;"Okay, this is actually really cool,"@@ Jessica says, glancing from booth to booth. She looks genuinely excited to see what people have come up with. @@.jessica;"I really like seeing everything before it's finished. It's like behind-the-scenes access."@@ You chuckle. @@.player;"You're acting like we got VIP tickets."@@ @@.jessica;"We basically did,"@@ Jessica says brightly. @@.jessica;"We get a preview of the great Pacific Crest Culture Festival."@@ You laugh a little at that and let yourself look around properly. It //is// kind of nice out here. Even the unfinished stuff has a lot of potential. A few booths look messy, but only in the way that means they'll probably be good by tomorrow. A few look overly ambitious already. Someone farther across the courtyard is trying to tape a banner straight while two other people give completely contradictory advice. The Philippines booth is one of the first ones that makes both of you slow down. It's really well made, having veered into a more artistic direction. There are some colorful parols, traditional star-shaped lanterns made with bamboo and paper, hanging around. There's a cardboard cutout of a jeepney too, a type of car often seen on the Filipino roads. @@.jessica;"Oh, this one's ''really'' pretty,"@@ she says. She steps a little closer, taking it all in. @@.jessica;"I like all the details. It feels really put together."@@ @@.player;"This one looks finished already,"@@ you say, looking it over. @@.jessica;"I wonder what it's like to ride that car,"@@ Jessica mutters, seeming curious. @@.player;"Probably bumpy,"@@ you say under your breath. You move on after that, and before long, the two of you end up in front of the Mexico booth. It's pretty fucking hard to miss, mostly because it's huge. Not just bigger than the others, but ''really'' big. It stretches wide with a lot more decorations and setup space than most of the surrounding booths. You blink. @@.player;"Why is it so big?"@@ Jessica glances at you, then back at the booth, and smiles a little out of amusement. @@.jessica;"$name, we're in California."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"Oh,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Yeah, you're right."@@ Jessica nods. @@.jessica;"I always am."@@ You keep walking together through the courtyard, passing more booths and activity tables as students move around all over the place. Jessica keeps pointing out things she likes as you go. Certain colors, decorations, signs, all that jazz. She's nice even about even the less polished booths too. It feels like she's rooting for them instead of judging them. Then you both come across the Irish booth. It's covered in shamrocks. Like, absolutely covered. Shamrocks are taped to the board, shamrocks are scattered on the table, shamrocks are hanging off the sides, so many shamrocks that you begin questioning that whoever put this together accidentally ordered a couple of pounds of it. There are a few other Irish stereotypes lying around. And right in the middle of the table is a raw potato. Jessica stares. @@.jessica;"Oh no."@@ You look at the potato again. @@.player;"Maybe someone left this there by accident?"@@ @@.jessica;"It's centered, though,"@@ she observes. You check, and indeed it is. @@.player;"Wow."@@ Jessica shakes her head, smiling a little at how silly it is. @@.jessica;"I don't even know what to say about this booth."@@ You lean in a little, half-expecting a label beside the potato. That's like, the least they could do, right? But there's nothing. @@.player;"Maybe it's temporary?"@@ you suggest, grasping at straws. @@.jessica;"Well, I really hope so,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Because otherwise this is kind of... um... yeah..."@@ This feels like the right time to make it worse. @@.player;"Luke's going to be the Irish representative, you know,"@@ you tell her. Jessica turns to you fast, eyes wide. @@.jessica;"Wait, really?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah."@@ She looks back at the booth, staring intensely at the potato. She's trying ''very'' hard not to laugh, but is mostly failing. @@.jessica;"Oh my gosh,"@@ she says. @@.jessica;"Okay, look, I love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. But I've got to admit that that's kind of concerning."@@ @@.player;"Only a little?"@@ you ask. Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"Okay, maybe more than a little. He's so nice, and really funny, but I can absolutely see him looking at this and thinking it needs a leprechaun and a pot of gold."@@ @@.player;"Or more potatoes,"@@ you say. She covers her mouth for a second, shoulders shaking, then finally manages, @@.jessica;"He'd want them to be french fries."@@ You end up laughing too, and the two of you move on before the Irish booth can somehow get worse. Jessica is still smiling as you head away from the country displays and toward some of the activity stands farther across the courtyard. They're a little more random, a little less polished, with games and props and signs. But then you spot Aurora. Her booth is much simpler than most of the others. Just a table draped neatly in black cloth underneath a dark tarp. Aurora is sitting behind it like she already knows people are going to come over just because they're curious. What is she doing? <<button "Aurora at the booth" "Day 25 - 9">><</button>>

Jessica seems a bit cautious. She's curious, but also very aware that Aurora's whole setup looks very spooky. Aurora //does// also have a bit of a reputation, which you're sure Jessica is aware of. The booth itself is so much simpler than the others around it that it stands out even more. Just the black cloth over the table, a chair in front of it, and Aurora sitting behind it with that unreadable expression she loves so much. @@.jessica;"Okay, I don't even know how to feel about this one,"@@ Jessica says quietly. @@.jessica;"It's either going to be really cool or really scary."@@ @@.player;"Those aren't mutually exclusive,"@@ you state. Jessica giggles. @@.jessica;"That's true. Maybe it being both is the best case scenario."@@ Aurora notices you both coming up and folds her hands neatly on the table. @@.aurora;"Welcome,"@@ she says. @@.aurora;"You've arrived at a very interesting time."@@ @@.jessica;"That sounds slightly threatening,"@@ Jessica says, a little cautious. Aurora's mouth twitches faintly, like she might just be amused. @@.aurora;"Only if the spirits have bad news."@@ @@.player;"This is the kind of sentence that would make me scared,"@@ you say. Jessica laughs softly, then looks back at Aurora. @@.jessica;"So what are you doing here, exactly?"@@ Aurora tilts her head slightly, as if she already expected the question. @@.aurora;"I'll be giving fortune tellings."@@ Jessica blinks. @@.jessica;"For the Culture Festival?"@@ @@.aurora;"For the Culture Festival,"@@ Aurora echoes. @@.player;"I suppose that explains the entire vibe,"@@ you say. Then, under your breath, @@.player;"I hope this fortune telling goes better than the last time."@@ @@.jessica;"What culture is this supposed to represent?"@@ Jessica asks curiously. Aurora pauses, buffering. Then, perfectly calmly, @@.aurora;"Several traditions involve spiritual interpretation."@@ Jessica nods slowly. @@.jessica;"Yeah, you're right."@@ @@.player;"You accepted that really fast,"@@ you comment. Jessica shrugs. @@.jessica;"It sounded smart enough."@@ Aurora gives you a look that feels faintly victorious, then gestures toward the chair in front of the table. @@.aurora;"Would you like a reading?"@@ she asks Jessica. Jessica looks at Aurora for a bit, her expression turning uncertain. @@.jessica;"What do you think, $name?"@@ she asks you. @@.jessica;"Should I get one, or is this how horror movies start?"@@ <<button "Do it" "Day 25 - 10">>\<<set $d25aurorajessreading to true>>\<<trackChoice "D25_aurora_jess_reading" "Do it" "story">><</button>> <<button "Nah, this ain't it" "Day 25 - 10">>\<<set $d25aurorajessreading to false>>\<<trackChoice "D25_aurora_jess_reading" "Nah, this ain't it" "story">><</button>>

By the time you get to the gym, the campus has already significantly emptied. The flood of students heading outside has stemmed, only leaving behind the people with extracurriculars. You move past all of it to get to your extracurricular. Cheerleading has started to feel normal to you far faster than you expected it to. It's kind of getting familiar now, the routine. Your body makes its way to the gym automatically while your mind wanders. Even so, something feels a little off by the time you reach the door. Then you realize why. You got here early. Not absurdly early, of course. It's not a big mistake or anything like that. But it //is// earlier than usual. Early enough that the girls are still inside changing. See, you usually come a little late so you can change on your own while the squad is warming up, already in their uniforms. But now you're awkwardly standing there. Obviously you can't go in, and obviously there's nowhere else to really go except right here in the awkward zone outside the door. You're waiting while doing your best to not look like you're waiting. From inside, you can hear voices. Jessica's is the easiest to pick out first, of course. But Ashley's calmer tone and Tori's more animated one are easy to recognize as well. They're talking over the usual background noise. @@.tori;"Okay, but seriously,"@@ Tori says from inside, @@.tori;"do you have anything evil planned today?"@@ There's a little laughter from all the cheerleaders at that. @@.jessica;"I'm not telling you,"@@ Jessica says. You can hear the smile in her voice. @@.jessica;"I can't spoil practice."@@ @@.tori;"That means yes!"@@ Tori says. @@.tori;"That means you do."@@ @@.ashley;"To be fair, you say everything is evil once it involves cardio,"@@ Ashley says coolly. @@.tori;"That is because cardio is oppression,"@@ Tori responds. You end up smiling without even thinking. @@.jessica;"Tori, you're being dramatic,"@@ Jessica says, laughing. @@.tori;"No, I'm being oppressed,"@@ Tori says. @@.tori;"Do keep in mind that if it's too hard, I'm filing a complaint."@@ @@.ashley;"With who?"@@ Ashley asks, confused. @@.tori;"The government,"@@ Tori says with total confidence. That gets more laughter from inside the locker room. Enough that you can picture everyone's expressions even through the door. Ashley's probably staring with a dry look on her face. Jessica's probably grinning brightly. Tori is ''definitely'' happy, convinced that she's made a good argument. @@.ashley;"With the government,"@@ Ashley repeats. @@.tori;"Yes,"@@ Tori says. @@.tori;"I'll write a formal statement. Dear government, today's practice was too much, and I personally believe that should be illegal."@@ @@.jessica;"Tori, that's just exercise,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"We can't make exercise illegal in this country."@@ @@.tori;"Why not?"@@ Tori asks. @@.tori;"Most people don't do it anyway. Not a big loss."@@ Ashley says something lower after that, too muffled for you to catch, but it gets another round of laughter. Then Tori's voice comes through again. @@.tori;"Wait, are we doing pyramids again? I'm going to need a week's notice if we do pyramids."@@ @@.jessica;"I can't give you a notice for literally everything,"@@ Jessica says. @@.tori;"You would if you were a caring cheer captain,"@@ Tori replies. Ashley hums. @@.ashley;"If you're not happy with Jessica, Mia can always make a practice routine just for you."@@ @@.tori;"Please no,"@@ Tori whispers, horrified. There's more movement inside, more overlapping voices now. They're too mixed together to really separate cleanly. But the whole thing has this easy rhythm to it. Just girls talking while they get ready. Complaining, joking, going back and forth about random stuff. It's normal to them. But you, $name, are out here. Just outside the door, stuck in this weird gap where you're part of the cheer squad but also not //really// part of it. It makes sense. Of course it makes sense. But it's also hard to pin down the way it makes you feel. How do you even feel? <<button "I wish I could just go in like them" "Day 25 - Cheer 2">>\<<set $d25cheerlockerthoughts to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_locker_thoughts" "I wish I could just go in like them" "story">><</button>> <<button "I shouldn't and don't even want to go in" "Day 25 - Cheer 2">>\<<set $d25cheerlockerthoughts to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_locker_thoughts" "I shouldn't and don't even want to go in" "story">><</button>> <<button "I don't know how I'm supposed to feel" "Day 25 - Cheer 2">>\<<set $d25cheerlockerthoughts to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_locker_thoughts" "II don't know how I'm supposed to feel" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d25moore1 is true>>\ @@.moore;"I understand that you want to stay, $name, which is why I'm going to be honest with you,"@@ Coach Moore declares. You nod. @@.player;"Alright."@@ @@.moore;"I don't see the point in lying to students, and I don't see the point in cushioning things just to make them easier to hear,"@@ Coach Moore explains. @@.moore;"And the truth is that this makes things harder for me."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Harder how?"@@ @@.moore;"Harder in basically every practical way,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"But it'll especially be harder for the nonsense Zhang is trying to create."@@ @@.player;"I understand,"@@ you say. @@.moore;"Do you?"@@ Coach Moore asks. You take a deep breath. @@.player;"Not all of it, probably. I'm not in your shoes, after all. But I know this isn't normal and that this'll make things messier. It's just that... despite all that... I want to stay."@@ That seems to matter to her. @@.moore;"Then if you stay, I expect you to stay properly,"@@ Coach Moore proclaims. You frown slightly. @@.player;"What does that mean?"@@ @@.moore;"It means no half-measures,"@@ Coach Moore says. @@.moore;"I don't want to see you drifting through practice and I don't want you to disappear the second this gets hard. If you're on this team, then you are on this team. Fully."@@ @@.player;"I can do that,"@@ you say. @@.moore;"Do you mean it?"@@ Coach Moore asks. You go quiet for a second, then answer more carefully. @@.player;"I mean it."@@ Coach Moore holds your gaze for another moment, as if she's checking to make sure you're sure. Once she confirms, she nods. @@.moore;"Good,"@@ Coach Moore says. @@.moore;"Will you be able to handle a hard practice today, $name?"@@ <<button "Yes, I can handle it all" "Day 25 - Cheer 11">>\<<set $d25moore2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_Moore_2" "Yes">><</button>> <<button "I'll try" "Day 25 - Cheer 11">>\<<set $d25moore2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_Moore_2" "Yes">><</button>> <<button "Depends on how hard it is" "Day 25 - Cheer 11">>\<<set $d25moore2 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_Moore_2" "Yes">><</button>> <<else>>\ @@.moore;"If that's where you stand, then I'll work on finding a replacement,"@@ Coach Moore says simply. @@.player;"Oh, alright,"@@ you say, blinking once. @@.moore;"You stepped in when the team needed someone, and I appreciate that,'@@ Coach Moore says. @@.moore;"But if this isn't something you want to keep doing long-term, then it's my job to solve that."@@ <<if $transgender > 24>>\ You nod, but you don't feel relieved. If anything, it scares you that your own answer has been taken seriously by someone else. <<else>>\ You nod, relieved. <</if>>\ @@.moore;"But for now, you're still there,"@@ she says, jerking her chin toward the rest of the team. @@.moore;"So get to practice."@@ That part is simple, and you kind of appreciate that. You nod. @@.player;"Yes, Coach."@@ Then you turn and jog off to join the team. <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - Cheer 12">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<if $d25moore2 is 0>>\ @@.player;"Yes,"@@ you say, before you can overthink it. @@.player;"I can handle it all."@@ Coach Moore's expression doesn't change much, but there's a subtle shift. Just enough to show a subtle hint of approval. You just gave her the answer she wanted in a confident manner. @@.moore;"Good,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"Now that you've said this, I expect the best from you today."@@ There's a bit of pressure on you now, but you understand that it's very necessary. A line has been drawn and you know what you have to do. @@.player;"Got it, Coach,"@@ you say. Coach Moore jerks her chin toward the team. @@.moore;"Get moving, cheerleader."@@ And with that, you turn and head toward practice, determined to do your very best. <<elseif $d25moore2 is 1>>\ @@.player;"I'll try,"@@ you finally say. Coach Moore studies you for half a second, like she's deciding what she thinks about your answer. Then she gives a short nod. @@.moore;"Then try hard."@@ It's not harsh, but it's not soft either. Just direct in that very Coach Moore way. @@.player;"Alright,"@@ you say, letting out a small breath. And with that, you turn and head toward practice. <<elseif $d25moore2 is 2>>\ You try for something lighter. @@.player;"I guess it depends on how hard it is,"@@ you say. Coach Moore just stares at you. Shit, that didn't land the way you wanted it to, huh? @@.moore;"If you want to stay on this team, I expect you to do your very best."@@ @@.player;"I was kidding,"@@ you try to explain. @@.moore;"I know you were,"@@ Coach Moore says. @@.moore;"Don't."@@ That shuts you up fast. @@.moore;"$name, I don't need to be impressed by confidence,"@@ Coach Moore begins. @@.moore;"I don't need you to dodge the question. I don't need you to make me laugh. All I want from you is to show up and do the work."@@ You nod, face warming up a little out of embarrassment. @@.player;"Right."@@ Coach Moore jerks her chin toward the team. @@.moore;"Then go prove it."@@ And with that, you turn and head toward practice. You might have to try extra hard to make up for what you just said, though. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - Cheer 12">><</button>>

<<set $d25practicepoints to 0>>\ You fall back in with the rest of the team, and the rhythm of practice grabs you fast. The laps aren't brutal, but they're not really meant to be. They're just enough to get everyone moving and warmed up. Sneakers strike the floor steadily, people breathe, and some girls talk in quick little bursts. You settle into it the best you can, but the conversation you had with Coach Moore still sits somewhere in the back of your head. You try and drown it out by keeping pace. If you're tired, you can't think, after all. Jessica passes near you and glances over. @@.jessica;"You alright?"@@ she asks, not even out of breath. @@.player;"I am,"@@ you say. @@.tori;"That's the spirit,"@@ Tori says from somewhere behind you. She sounds ''far'' too chatty for someone who's been running laps. @@.ashley;"Save your oxygen, you guys,"@@ Ashley cuts in. @@.tori;"I'm using it to keep the team morale high,"@@ Tori argues. @@.girl;"Just use it for not dying,"@@ a girl groans. Mia, a few steps ahead, glances back just long enough to smirk. @@.mia;"Weak."@@ The laps keep going until Coach Moore finally calls everyone back in. Girls drift toward the water bottles lined up off to the side, breathing hard. You grab water too, getting a quick drink. Everyone is recovering from the exercise. @@.tori;"Well, I think that was enough cardio for one lifetime,"@@ Tori declares. @@.ashley;"It was light jogging,"@@ Ashley says. @@.tori;"Well, to me, it was suffering."@@ @@.mia;"Maybe if you stretched properly,"@@ Mia murmurs. @@.girl;"Yeah, Tori,"@@ one of the other cheerleaders chimes in. Coach Moore waits until people have had enough time to feel energized again before speaking. @@.moore;"I hope you all enjoyed this break,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"Because now we're doing suicides on the court."@@ The entire mood drops. @@.tori;"No,"@@ Tori gasps, horrified. @@.girl;"Coach,"@@ a girl in the back whines. Coach Moore doesn't want to hear it. @@.moore;"Baseline to free throw and back. Half court, back. Opposite free throw, back. Full court, back. You go until I tell you to stop. You know the drill."@@ Unfortunately, you do know the drill. The basketball court suddenly feels a lot bigger than it did thirty seconds ago. The team starts getting lined up. Jessica looks focused already, Ashley's calm, Mia is smirking, and Tori looks like she's about to actually file a complaint with the government. You take your place with the others. Just before Coach Moore blows the whistle, though, your brain remembers one last thing. How exactly are you going to run this? <<button "Explode off the line" "Day 25 - Cheer 13">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice1 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_1" "Explode off the line" "story">><</button>> <<button "Run steady and stay consistent" "Day 25 - Cheer 13">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice1 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_1" "Run steady and stay consistent" "story">><</button>> <<button "Just focus on survival" "Day 25 - Cheer 13">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice1 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_1" "Just focus on survival" "story">><</button>> <<button "Try and strike up a conversation while running" "Day 25 - Cheer 13">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice1 to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_1" "Try and strike up a conversation while running" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d25cheerpractice1 is 0>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints -= 1>>\ The whistle blows, and you fucking launch off the baseline. For the first few seconds, it actually feels great. You're ahead of everyone else, your sneakers hit the floor hard, and you get a stupid little spark of confidence in your chest. This was a good move. You're ''built'' for this. Then you finish the first circuit. Then the second. And somewhere around half-court, your body starts collecting payment. Your breathing gets rough, your legs feel heavy, and the speed you were so confident in at first turns on you almost immediately. The girls around you, the ones who were so far behind you at first, are now ahead of you. Every time you push off to spring again, it gets uglier. As you continue, your chest starts to burn. Jessica passes near you on one of the turnarounds and gives you a quick look. @@.jessica;"Too fast at the start,"@@ she says quickly. You can't answer, because if you do, you might die. Tori, who's still somehow capable of commentary even while suffering, calls out, @@.tori;"He flew too close to the cardio sun."@@ That gets a laugh out of one of the girls. It's a bit rude, but you can't really be mad. Tori's not wrong, after all. By the time Coach Moore blows her whistle, you're struggling hard. You reach the baseline many seconds after everyone else. The early sprint brought you absolutely nothing except exhaustion. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice1 is 1>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints += 2>>\ The whistle blows, but instead of trying to win the first circuit, you settle into a pace you can actually keep. Not too slow, not too fast. Controlled is the name of the game. Measured enough that you're not burning all your energy early, casual enough to stay with the group. You hit the first line, turn, and head back, all while keeping your breathing as even as you can. It's still tough, duh, but it feels manageable. By the time you're on the third circuit, you're glad you didn't go crazy at the start. A few people around you who came out too hard at first start fading a little, but luckily, your pace holds. The turns still suck, the full-court stretch is definitely ''not'' fun, but your body never fully loses control. You're tired, but that's a given, considering that you're running suicides. Ashley passes close by and gives you a small nod, approving of the pacing. Jessica does too a minute later, giving you a little smile. Hell, even Coach Moore, watching from the side, seems like she has no complaints with what you're doing. That's praise, right? Tori, who is having a much worse time than you, pants out on one of the returns, @@.tori;"This is ''horrible''!"@@ You nearly laugh, but that would ruin your breathing. One of the girls mutters, @@.girl;"Why is the court so long?"@@ You just keep going, though. Steadiness and consistency is key, right? Turn, run, back. Turn, run, back. It's nothing flashy, but it's solid. By the time the set ends, your legs are definitely feeling it. For the record, your lungs aren't thrilled either. But despite it all, you're still on your feet and functioning. Maybe you made a good choice. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice1 is 2>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints += 1>>\ The whistle blows, and your plan is real simple. Just. Don't. Die. You don't try to lead, and you ''definitely'' don't try to impress anybody. You just run with survival in mind. Some of the girls pull ahead of you, but you don't care. Your focus is on making it through the full sequence without collapsing into a tragic little puddle on the gym floor. It's... not exactly graceful, to say the least. You're not slow enough to look like you've given up, but you're not really making yourself look good either. The first two circuits feel manageable, mostly because you're pacing for endurance. It definitely does help as the distances get longer. You're not burning out completely. Mia glances over once on a turn and smirks. You don't know why, but you get the feeling that she's done this too in the past. @@.mia;"Playing defense against cardio?"@@ she asks on the move. @@.player;"Absolutely,"@@ you shoot back, a little breathless. @@.mia;"That's pathetic, $name."@@ @@.player;"It's sustainable."@@ Tori, several feet away, points weakly in your direction and says, @@.tori;"He is ''so'' real for that."@@ Coach Moore doesn't look disappointed, which probably means you're doing //just// enough to not draw negative attention. You're sure she's not impressed by you, but still. A win's a win. By the time you near the end, you're definitely tired, but not in a catastrophic way. Your body has filed a complaint, but you have elected to ignore it. You make the turns, keep moving, and finish without ever fully falling apart. As the whistle blows and the suicide ends, you slow down with the rest of the team. You're breathing hard, very hard, but you're still upright. You did... alright. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice1 is 3>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints -= 2>>\ The whistle blows, and for some reason, you decide this is still a social situation. You take off with the group and say to Jessica, a little too brightly for someone doing suicides, @@.player;"So, tough practice today, huh?"@@ Jessica makes a face that somehow communicates both disbelief and irritation while she's still running. @@.jessica;"$name, please stop."@@ Tori somehow manages to overhear and shouts, @@.tori;"Are you making conversation during //suicides//?"@@ One girl wheezes out, @@.girl;"That's messed up."@@ You end up laughing at that. It's a mistake, though, because now your breathing's worse. Jessica is clearly annoyed, and not in a playful way. More in a @@.jessica;"what the hell are you doing?"@@ kind of way. She's trying to focus, but for whatever reason, you decided the middle of a sprint drill was the right time to interview her. @@.jessica;"Seriously,"@@ Jessica says. @@.jessica;"Run."@@ You do try to shut up after that, but the damage is already done. Why? Because talking while running sucks way more than you thought it would. Your breathing has gotten messed up, your rhythm has fallen apart, and as the distances get longer, you're tired. It is self-inflicted, sure, but it drains you. Your chest burns, your legs feel heavy, and the already-difficult drill becomes even more difficult. Mia passes you once and says, with absolute delight, @@.mia;"That was such a bad idea."@@ You can't even deny it. Jessica, to her credit, stops looking annoyed once it's obvious that you're suffering enough on your own. By the time it ends, you're way more exhausted than you should be, and for the dumbest possible reason. Suicides are hard, sure, but they're usually not //this// hard. You chose to make it harder than necessary by trying to hold a conversation. <</if>>\ <<button "End of the suicides" "Day 25 - Cheer 14">><</button>>

The whole team looks at least a little wrecked after the suicides. Coach Moore blows the whistle one last time and holds up a hand. @@.moore;"One minute,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"Get some water and catch your breath, 'cause after that we're moving on."@@ That's all she gives. You guys don't get a long recovery or a motivational speech. Coach isn't really the type for mercy. One minute is all you get. Yet, it still feels like a gift. Everyone heads for their water bottles, desperately trying to get a bit of rest. Breathing is loud, shoes drag a little, and someone even mutters @@.girl;"thank God"@@ under her breath. Another girl just lowers herself to sit on the floor for a second before her friend yanks her back up, telling her not to get too comfortable. You stop near the sideline and bend forward, hands planted on your knees, trying to get your lungs to stop feeling like they're on fire. Your body feels hot, sweat clings to your neck, you can //feel// your heartbeat, and all you can really do is stay there and breathe. A few feet away, Tori looks close to death. Not in a real way, obviously. But in a Tori way. She's folded over with one hand on her chest and the other weakly clutching her water bottle. It's like she just crawled back from a battle while injured and is now dying. @@.tori;"I saw the tunnel,"@@ she says faintly. @@.tori;"There was a light, and within it, an angel. He told me to do fewer suicides."@@ Ashley, upright and composed, unscrews her water bottle beside her. @@.ashley;"That was your brain subconsciously telling you to do more cardio."@@ Tori lifts one shaky finger. @@.tori;"You weren't there. You don't know what I experienced."@@ That gets a weak laugh out of one of the girls nearby, who says, @@.girl;"I'll experience it too by the time practice is over."@@ Mia, meanwhile, is doing annoyingly well. Shit, of //course// she is. She takes a drink of water, lowers the bottle, then says with a smug little shrug, @@.mia;"That wasn't too bad."@@ Tori turns her head slowly toward her. @@.tori;"You are ''EVIL''."@@ @@.mia;"I'm not,"@@ Mia counters. @@.mia;"For one, I actually do cardio regularly. Also, I did actual stretches."@@ @@.ashley;"That's a pretty evil comeback,"@@ Ashley tells her. Jessica is breathing hard too, though she's doing a better job hiding it than everyone else. She wipes at her forehead and exhales through her nose, still looking more put together than she has any right to after that set. @@.girl;"Maybe I should've joined chess instead,"@@ one of the cheerleaders murmurs to herself. @@.mia;"Cheerleading is better,"@@ Mia says. @@.mia;"Chess is for babies."@@ @@.girl;"At least I'd be an alive baby,"@@ the girl shoots back. You stay bent over a little longer, catching your breath while everyone regroups. Coach Moore stands off to the side with her whistle and clipboard, watching all of it. She's, oddly enough, being observant. It seems like she's taking in who recovers how and what that says about them. Your lungs are starting to settle, but not by much. You have a bit of time until practice starts moving again, and what you do with it matters. So... what will you do? <<button "Straighten up and focus on breathing, not talking" "Day 25 - Cheer 15">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice2 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_2" "Straighten up and focus on breathing, not talking" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask Jessica if she's okay" "Day 25 - Cheer 15">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice2 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_2" "Ask Jessica if she's okay" "story">><</button>> <<button "Stay folded over, exhausted" "Day 25 - Cheer 15">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice2 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_2" "tay folded over, exhausted" "story">><</button>> <<button "Complain about the situation" "Day 25 - Cheer 15">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice2 to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_2" "Complain about the situation" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d25cheerpractice2 is 0>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints += 2>>\ You force yourself to straighten. Not all the way at once, because that would probably result in you passing out dramatically in front of the whole team. But just enough to stop folding yourself in half and actually get control of your breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow it down and do ''not'' talk. It's a waste of energy, and you don't //have// much energy. Just recover. And shit, it works. It's not instant, of course, but it's fast enough that you can feel the difference within a few breaths. Your heartbeat is still loud and your legs still feel a little shaky, but the exhaustion does wear off a little. The whole gym gets less blurry around the edges. You take another sip of water and focus on getting back to normal. Coach Moore notices, because of course she does. She doesn't say anything, but when her eyes pass over you, you can spot the faintest shift in her expression. You... think it's positive? You //hope// it's positive. Beside you, Tori is still barely clinging to life. @@.tori;"If anyone needs me, I'll be in the cemetery,"@@ she says weakly. Ashley takes another quick sip. @@.ashley;"Tori, you say this after every hard drill."@@ @@.tori;"And I mean it every time!"@@ Mia glances over at you, looking a little annoyed by the fact that you made the smart choice. @@.mia;"Wow, look at you. Not chatting in order to recover quicker."@@ @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you say. @@.mia;"That wasn't praise."@@ @@.player;"Sounded like it."@@ <<elseif $d25cheerpractice2 is 1>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints += 1>>\ You glance over at Jessica, and without thinking too hard about whether this is the smartest use of your break, ask, @@.player;"You okay?"@@ Jessica turns her head toward you, still breathing a little hard, and gives you a quick nod. @@.jessica;"Yeah,"@@ she says, then adds with a small laugh, @@.jessica;"Bit more tired than I'd like to be, but yeah."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Still, it's good that you're not dying."@@ @@.jessica;"True that,"@@ Jessica comments. @@.jessica;"You?"@@ <<if $d25cheerpractice1 is 1 or $d25cheerpractice1 is 2>>\ @@.player;"Not bad at all,"@@ you respond. <<else>>\ @@.player;"I'm barely alive,"@@ you respond. <</if>>\ @@.jessica;"As long as you can move, that's enough for Coach Moore."@@ That gets another small laugh out of you. The issue is that it cost a little breath that you probably should've kept. @@.jessica;"You did fine, $name,"@@ Jessica reassures. @@.jessica;"You can stop making that face."@@ @@.player;"What face?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"That grimace,"@@ she clarifies. @@.jessica;"You look like you're struggling to keep your eyes open."@@ @@.player;"Well, that's because I //am// struggling to keep my eyes open,"@@ you explain. @@.jessica;"Fair enough."@@ It's a good moment. A quick little check-in that makes you feel better emotionally. But the issue is how you feel physically. Losing those few extra recovery seconds definitely took away from the rest you could've had. Coach Moore notices that too. Her eyes pass over you and Jessica once, and while she doesn't interrupt, there's some scrutiny in her gaze. @@.jessica;"There it is,"@@ Jessica mutters. @@.player;"What is where?"@@ you ask. @@.jessica;"The Coach Moore look."@@ At that, you immediately stop talking. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice2 is 2>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints -= 1>>\ You stay where you are with your hands on your knees, still trying to will your lungs into functioning like normal human lungs again. It feels far easier not to move. It's easy to just stay folded up while your body catches up. The problem is that as time passes, you can't muster up the strength to actually stand up straight. You're still breathing hard, looking completely wiped. Tori, who's beside you, is in no position to judge anyone. @@.tori;"Honestly, $name, you have the right idea,"@@ Tori says faintly. @@.tori;"I should just live down there."@@ Ashley glances between the two of you and says, @@.ashley;"Both of you need to stand up before Coach Moore notices."@@ But you're already too late, because Coach Moore has already noticed. You know the second you risk a glance up and catch her looking straight at you. She doesn't say anything, but you can tell she's not happy. Her expression isn't //angry//, but it seems like she's thinking that this is ''not'' how she expects you to carry yourself. Fuck. You push yourself upright after that, but you're pretty sure it's too little, too late. @@.mia;"Oof,"@@ Mia says, smirking. @@.mia;"You got The Look."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you mutter. @@.mia;"She noticed, and she's thinking."@@ @@.player;"Thank you, Mia.'@@ @@.mia;"You're welcome."@@ You're still tired, but the sting of knowing Coach Moore saw you makes you feel far worse. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice2 is 3>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints -= 2>>\ You take one breath, then another, and decide to use the break in a... unique way. Instead of recovering, like a reasonable person would, you start complaining. @@.player;"Those sucked,"@@ you mutter, mostly to yourself. Nobody stops you, though, so you keep going. @@.player;"No, seriously. That was insane and went on for ''way'' too long. Also, I swear the basketball court isn't usually that long. Who made it that long?"@@ Tori, still half-dead nearby, weakly lifts her bottle toward you. @@.tori;"Finally. A voice of the people."@@ Emboldened by this, you keep going. @@.player;"And the full-court one at the end of each circuit? That's not even exercise anymore. That's just, like, torture. Maybe we're practicing how to run if we were being hunted."@@ One of the girls nearby laughs once, but in an uneasy sort of way. She knows that it's dangerous. It's all funny until it gets noticed. Ashley immediately says, @@.ashley;"$name."@@ But now you're committed. @@.player;"I'm just saying that there has to be a line where this stops being conditioning and becomes student abuse,"@@ you go on. @@.tori;"YES!"@@ Tori exclaims, acting like you're a revolutionary. Then, Coach Moore speaks. @@.moore;"If you have enough energy to deliver a full speech, then you have enough energy to practice,"@@ she says. She's not loud, but she doesn't //have// to be. The tension rises. Tori goes still, and you go very still. Coach Moore looks very disappointed, saying, @@.moore;"Use your break better."@@ @@.player;"Yes, Coach,"@@ you say, cheeks turning red. Mia whispers, @@.mia;"You went too far."@@ @@.player;"I know,"@@ you whisper back. And just like that, there can be no more complaining from you. You grab your water bottle, shut your mouth, and try to salvage what's left of the break. <</if>>\ But damn, the minute goes way too fast. While everyone's still breathing heavily, Coach Moore only has two words to say. @@.moore;"Break's over."@@ Everyone seems disappointed. Tori makes a tortured sound like she's been sentenced to grueling labor for the next 20 years. One of the other cheerleaders mutters, @@.girl;"Cruel."@@ Jessica runs a hand over her face, caps her water bottle, and starts moving again. And just like that, practice starts up once more. <<button "Break is OVER" "Day 25 - Cheer 16">><</button>>

Coach Moore gives the team just long enough to get back into something resembling formation before speaking again. @@.moore;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"We're moving on to jump drills."@@ Coach Moore really wasn't lying when she said she'd work you guys hard, huh? Tori lets out a quiet, wounded, @@.tori;"No..."@@ It's clear that she's traumatized. But it's not just her. Even Ashley, who usually takes everything in stride, closes her eyes a little. It seems she needs to mentally prepare herself for a very tiring ten minutes. Coach Moore doesn't really care. If anything, she's probably happy. @@.moore;"You'll be doing the jumps with proper arm positions, proper movement, and proper timing,"@@ she declares. @@.moore;"I don't want to see any sloppiness just because you're tired. If anything, you should work especially hard //because// you're tired. That's what it means to be a cheerleader."@@ It's pretty hard to be motivated when everybody is bone fucking tired. The suicides made sure of that. Your legs still feel heavy, and every step you take reminds you that your muscles and heart currently despise you. Around you, the rest of the team doesn't look like they're doing much better. People are standing up straight, sure, but that's only because Coach Moore is here. The fatigue is still obvious in the little things. People shift their weight from foot to foot, one girl is standing on the sides of her feet, and the room is just generally full of despair. Coach Moore gestures at Jessica. @@.moore;"Your fearless cheer captain, Jessica, will lead."@@ Jessica steps forward, already moving into position. She doesn't look fresh exactly, but she does look quite composed. It seems like she and her body reached an agreement a long time ago that she would simply continue functioning no matter what. @@.moore;"Demonstrate,"@@ Coach Moore says. Jessica nods and goes for it. The motion is sharp, the control is tight, and the jump has very good height considering what the team's done today. It's not ridiculous, but it's more than you'd be able to do right now. It gets the point across: that this is what it's supposed to look like. She even lands neatly, which feels rude considering how everyone else is doing. Tori says under her breath, @@.tori;"That is messed up."@@ Mia mutters, @@.mia;"Skill issue."@@ @@.tori;"I'm ''really'' going to move to Chess,"@@ Tori says. Jessica turns back to the group. @@.jessica;"Okay, get ready,"@@ Jessica says, still a little breathless but fully in captain mode now. @@.jessica;"I'll show you what to do."@@ @@.girl;"Jessica, you're scary!"@@ one of the girls says. @@.mia;"She //is// pretty scary,"@@ Mia says. Ashley rolls her shoulders before settling into position. @@.ashley;"Just don't think about your legs."@@ @@.tori;"The only thing I'm thinking about are my legs,"@@ Tori says. You move into place with the rest of the team. Jessica looks focused already. Somehow, even though she's demonstrating in front of everyone, she doesn't seem to be nervous in the slightest. Coach Moore stands off to the side with her arms folded, watching the entire formation with that same strict attention that makes every little choice suddenly feel very important. And that's a problem. Why? Because your legs are already shot. They're not unusable, you can still walk, but it's close enough that you can feel the danger in this. Jump and drills aren't just about getting off the floor, after all. They're about form, timing, arms, posture, landings, and repeating all of it while your body screams at you to stop. Jessica readies the count while you draw in a breath and think about what exactly you're going to prioritize here. <<button "Jump as high as possible every time" "Day 25 - Cheer 17">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice3 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_3" "Jump as high as possible every time" "story">><</button>> <<button "Focus on the movements, not the jump height" "Day 25 - Cheer 17">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice3 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_3" "Focus on the movements, not the jump height" "story">><</button>> <<button "Copy Jessica and hope it works" "Day 25 - Cheer 17">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice3 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_3" "Copy Jessica and hope it works" "story">><</button>> <<button "Cheat the landings to save your legs" "Day 25 - Cheer 17">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice3 to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_3" "Cheat the landings to save your legs" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d25cheerpractice3 is 0>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints -= 1>>\ You decide to commit, and commit hard. If this is jump drills, then fine, you're going to jump. None of this half-height, conserving-energy, sad little bounce stuff. If you're doing it, you might as well make it count. So on the first few reps, you throw everything you've got into it. And honestly? At first, it looks ''really'' good. Your jump has a ton of height in it. Enough that for the first minute, it feels like maybe you cracked the code. Maybe the answer really was just to put everything you have into it. Your arms hit mostly where they're supposed to, your body gets off the floor well, and when you land, you're confident. But then the reps keep coming. And because you're putting so much into the height every time, everything else starts slipping. Not all at once. Just the little things at first. Your arms come just a fraction of a second too late on one jump. Your landing is heavier on the next. On another, your chest is not aligned properly. The more you chase height, the more your body starts sacrificing the smaller parts to get there. By the middle of the drill, your legs are paying for your poor decision-making. Every launch takes more effort while every landing hits harder. The height is still there (sort of), but the control isn't. Jessica's demo had looked good because everything worked together. You, on the other hand, look like the jump is dragging everything else by force. Ashley glances your way and winces. @@.ashley;"Your arms,"@@ she mutters as she resets for the next one. You try to fix them, but now your breathing is worse too, and the whole thing starts feeling more like a frantic rush than precise practice. Mia notices, of course. @@.mia;"You were trying to leave orbit with those early jumps,"@@ she says, smirking. Tori, somehow still participating despite wanting to die, pants out, @@.tori;"He's dying for height."@@ That would be funny if it wasn't true. By the last few reps, the problem is obvious. You're not even jumping that high anymore, your only saving grace gone. Your form is horrible now. Your arms are just wobbling around and you get off the ground a second after everyone else. When it finally stops, you breathe in and exhale hard. Coach Moore's eyes pass over you once. @@.moore;"Too much jump,"@@ she says. That's all. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice3 is 1>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints += 2>>\ By the time Jessica starts the sequence, you've already come to a decision. Forget trying to impress anyone with height. Just hit the movement right. So instead of throwing yourself upward as hard as possible, you keep your focus on the structure. Your arms are where they're supposed to be, your chest in the right place, your timing sharp, and your landings controlled. You still jump, obviously. Coach Moore wouldn't be too happy if you didn't. But you decide it's more important to get the choreography right. And shit, it feels like you just made the smart decision. It's definitely not easy, your legs still hate you. But because you're not wasting energy trying to blast yourself as high as possible every time, the whole sequence stays cleaner. You can feel the motions connecting cleanly. Your body has enough energy left to actually pay attention to the details instead of just surviving takeoff and impact. Ashley glances your way during one reset and gives a small, yet approving, nod. Mia notices too, and she doesn't like the fact that you're actually competing with her. @@.mia;"Ugh,"@@ she mutters. @@.mia;"Responsible."@@ @@.tori;"I hate when the people around me make good choices,"@@ Tori says, breathing hard. @@.girl;"Same,"@@ one of the girls behind you says, and then nearly misses her arm motion on the next rep. By the later jumps, your legs are still burning, but you haven't let the drill break you. The height might not be the best in the group, not even close, but the forms hold. Even when the fatigue gets worse, you're still doing the actual drill, not a desperate impression of it. And when it ends, you know it went well. Not because anyone claps for you or anything stupid like that. But because of what Coach Moore says. After the last rep, she says, @@.moore;"Better."@@ You're pretty sure that one is meant for you. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice3 is 2>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints += 1>>\ Look, there's no need to overthink it. Jessica is in front and her demonstration is literally ''the'' example. There's no point in reinventing the wheel, is there? You just lock onto her and follow. When she moves, you move. When she crosses her arms, you cross your arms. When she lands, you try to land the same way. Believe it or not, it works pretty well. Jessica's rhythm is easy to track, and because you're basically outsourcing all the thinking to her, you don't have to waste as much energy. You just watch and react. It's efficient. If you stay half a beat behind her and keep your eyes sharp, you can ride the structure she already laid. There's only one downside, and that is the fact that you're a little //too// dependent on her. Whenever she's directly in your line of sight, you're fine. But every time someone covers your vision for even a second, you feel yourself starting to wobble immediately. Jessica is your anchor, and the moment you lose track of her, you start guessing. Mia catches on fast. @@.mia;"He's using Jessica,"@@ she says with a smirk. You glare at her. @@.player;"Shut up."@@ @@.girl;"That's actually kind of smart,"@@ one of the other girls says. @@.tori;"If I had Jessica's stamina, I'd be unstoppable,"@@ Tori says, exhausted. @@.ashley;"You'd have Jessica's stamina if you had Jessica's work ethic,"@@ Ashley says coolly. You just keep following Jessica, and it's a big help. But it's not a perfect solution by any means. By the later reps, as fatigue truly sets in, relying on Jessica means you're always just a little behind the ideal instead of fully owning it yourself. Definitely not bad, but not as strong as it would be if you weren't borrowing. When it finally ends, you let out a deep breath. Coach Moore's eyes flick over you, then to Jessica, then back. @@.moore;"Don't lean too hard on the lead,"@@ she says. Not a criticism, but a correction. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice3 is 3>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints -= 2>>\ Look, you know your legs are going to hate this. Getting off the ground isn't easy, and landing hurts. So you make a small decision to save yourself. You'll jump a little lower so that you absorb less impact when you land. Cutting corners a little where you can, to make the whole thing less brutal. If you soften things, maybe you can survive without feeling like you want to die. It feels smart for a while, but then it becomes obvious. You feel dumb for not realizing just how important the jumping is on... jump drills. The second you start shaving off the proper takeoff and finish to protect your legs, the whole thing starts looking wrong. You feel it before anyone says anything. The rhythm gets all weird, and your body isn't moving the way it should. Your routine gets all inconsistent, completely different from anyone else. Ashley notices first. @@.ashley;"Jump properly,"@@ she says quietly. You try on the next rep, but your body slips right back into the cheat because it hurts less. Mia notices immediately after that. @@.mia;"Oh my God,"@@ she says, not even trying to hide her amusement. @@.mia;"He's faking the jump."@@ @@.player;"I'm not faking it,"@@ you mutter. @@.mia;"You basically are,"@@ Mia says. Tori, in one of the few moments where she's lucid, glances over and goes, @@.tori;"Oof. Yeah, that's visible."@@ That is not what you wanted to hear. But shit, they're right. It //is// visible. You can't just half-ass the jump. It doesn't read as clever energy management, either. It reads as you just not caring. And standing off to the side, Coach Moore definitely sees it too. You catch her face and see she looks rather disappointed. Your stomach sinks a little, but by that point, you're too late. So you just keep going, fully aware that you're cheating the hardest part because your legs are tired. When the sequence finally ends, you try not to look at Coach Moore, but you fail. Seeing her glare makes you realize that there's no mistaking that she saw it. <</if>>\ By the end of the drill, the whole team is even more tired than they were at the end of the suicides. A few girls shake out their legs immediately. Someone mutters, @@.girl;"That was evil,"@@ under her breath. Tori looks one second away from collapsing. Jessica steps back from the front, breathing harder now. @@.moore;"You can take another quick break,"@@ Coach Moore announces. That earns a fresh wave of relieved groans as the team breaks again. <<button "Hard day of practice" "Day 25 - Cheer 18">><</button>>

The break disappears as fast as the last one did. A few girls are still finishing their water when Coach Moore claps, calling everyone back in. The whole team groans their way back into formation again. @@.moore;"Alright,"@@ Coach Moore begins, looking over the line. @@.moore;"We're going to work on coordination and timing."@@ Shit. You can get away with individual sloppiness for a second if you time it right. You can't really hide bad timing when everyone's supposed to be moving together, though. Coach Moore continues, direct as always. @@.moore;"We're going to run part of the routine slowly."@@ She gestures toward Jessica. @@.moore;"Jessica will count. You move on the same beats. If you're ahead, it's wrong. If you're behind, it's wrong. If your form is perfect but your timing is off, it's still wrong."@@ @@.tori;"I preferred when the problem was just physical suffering,"@@ Tori murmurs, looking depressed. @@.tori;"Now there's mental suffering as well."@@ @@.ashley;"The problem is that you don't put enough effort in,"@@ Ashley says. @@.girl;"Amazing, I'm going to be tired and wrong at the same time,"@@ one girl mutters. @@.mia;"That's how you improve,"@@ Mia says, seeming excited. Jessica steps into place at the front, in captain mode yet again. She looks exhausted, but still controlled enough that it barely shows. @@.jessica;"We're going slow, so just listen,"@@ she says. Coach Moore nods. @@.moore;"You are not performing right now. You are practicing so you're in sync when you perform. That means I care about whether you're with the count or not. I couldn't care less about how pretty you look while doing it."@@ Tori raises a hand weakly. @@.tori;"Can I still look pretty?"@@ @@.moore;"Put that energy into timing,"@@ Coach Moore says. That gets a couple tired laughs from the group. You get into position, being spread out just enough to move without running into each other. The gym is quieter now, as everyone is paying attention to Jessica. Waiting for the count. Standing there, you realize this is less about pure stamina, and more about whether your brain and body can stay synced. What exactly are you going to focus on here? <<button "Whisper-count to yourself so you don't lose track" "Day 25 - Cheer 19">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice4 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_4" "Whisper-count to yourself so you don't lose track" "story">><</button>> <<button "Focus on your own moves, the timing will come naturally" "Day 25 - Cheer 19">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice4 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_4" "Focus on your own moves, the timing will come naturally" "story">><</button>> <<button "Try to look more energetic by going faster" "Day 25 - Cheer 19">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice4 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_4" "Try to look more energetic by going faster" "story">><</button>> <<button "Adjust everything to Jessica's count, she's the leader" "Day 25 - Cheer 19">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice4 to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_4" "Adjust everything to Jessica's count, she's the leader" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d25cheerpractice4 is 0>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints += 1>>\ Jessica starts counting, but you realize pretty quickly that if you let the beats just wash over you, you're going to get lost. So you start whisper-counting under your breath. Not loud enough for anyone to hear clearly, or at least you hope so. Just a tiny murmur to keep the rhythm in your body. @@.jessica;"One, two, three, four..."@@ Jessica calls at the front. You repeat it to yourself, using the words to help your movements. It feels awkward at first, like you're tutoring yourself through the routine embarrassingly, but it works. Mostly. The good part is that you don't lose the beat. You stay anchored to the counts, even when your brain wants to drift toward thinking about what you want to have for dinner. The quiet little count keeps dragging you back into place. You stay with the timing. The downside is that it makes you feel a little stiff. It's not disastrous by any means, not ruining the section or anything. But it does make your movements look a little more deliberate rather than natural. It's as if you're assembling it piece by piece instead of letting it flow. Ashley looks over, having realized what you're doing. Jessica, from the front, keeps counting steadily, and you keep whispering along with her. One of the girls nearby gives you a weird little look, probably because your lips are moving like you're casting a spell, but you ignore it and keep going. @@.tori;"Does three go after four or before four, again?"@@ Tori pants out. Mia snorts. @@.mia;"That explains a lot.'@@ You stay with your own count and get through the section alright. It's not the smoothest you've ever looked, sure, but the timing holds together. By the end of the slow run, you know where the beats are a lot better than when you started. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice4 is 1>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints -= 1>>\ You decide not to overcomplicate it. Look, the routine already has plenty of moving parts, and obsessing over the count feels like a good way to fuck up. So instead, you focus on your own body. You'll get the movement perfect and trust that the timing will sort itself out. That turns out to have been an optimistic way of seeing things. It isn't all too bad at first. Jessica's count is still there in the background, keeping you focused. You're close enough to everyone else that the rhythm of the group kind of carries you as well. But the more time that passes, the more you start slipping. You're hitting the shape perfectly, but not at the right time. One beat ahead there, a little late there. @@.ashley;"You're moving fine, but not with us,"@@ Ashley says quickly during a reset. You've got to admit she's right. You try to fix it on the next go, but now you don't know how to approach it. You swing too far in the other direction, no longer focusing on your movement. But now that your timing is right, everything else is off. @@.mia;"Why did you not focus on the entire point of this?"@@ Mia asks. @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you mutter. By the end of the section, you're pretty frustrated with yourself. Your movements were perfect, but Mia is right. You missed the whole point of the exercise. You're not with the team the way you're supposed to be. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice4 is 2>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints -= 2>>\ The smart thing to do is to add more energy. The routine's slow right now, sure, but it won't always be slow. If you attack it a little more now, it'll look sharper when you're actually on the field. More //alive//, per se. Jessica's counting the beats, but it's not like you necessarily have to follow them to a tee. You can bring some extra momentum to the table. This goes badly almost immediately. You're moving faster than everyone else, sure, but it doesn't read as energetic. It just reads as... wrong. You're not leading the motion, you're getting ahead of it. Jessica says the beat, but your body has already been there for a second or two. You're not matching the team so much as racing a version of the routine that only exists in your own head. It makes you stand out, and not in a good way. Jessica notices from the front, and while she doesn't break count, she does give a tiny frown. Mia notices and looks rather confused. @@.mia;"Why are you freestyling?"@@ @@.player;"I'm not,"@@ you hiss back. @@.mia;"You're so far ahead that you're basically in next week."@@ That gets a snort out of one of the girls nearby, which is deeply unhelpful. Coach Moore even cuts in, saying, @@.moore;"Do not speed through the count just because you think it looks stronger."@@ There's technically no name attached to that, but you know the truth. You pull yourself back after that, but correcting yourself mid-routine isn't easy. If anything, it makes the whole thing uglier. Too fast, then too slow, then trying to find the group again. By the time the section ends, you feel like you spent the whole time fighting the count instead of learning it. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice4 is 3>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints += 2>>\ The second Jessica starts counting, you make the simplest and smartest choice possible: Trust the count. There's no need to go on your own and rely on your own instincts or energy or ideas. Jessica's at the front for a very good reason, and right now your job is to make sure you're on time. You listen hard and adjust everything around it. Arms move on her count, feet hit on her count. Everything is tied back to Jessica's rhythm. It takes focus, of course, but it helps. Your body is still tired, and coordinating tired muscles with exact timing is very difficult. But because you're following Jessica instead of trying to invent something on your own, the whole routine starts making more sense. You can feel how the movements fit together. Why being even slightly early or slightly late changes the whole shape of it. Jessica's count is clean and consistent, and once you fully commit to it, it gives you a solid foundation to build on. Ashley notices and gives you a tiny nod during one reset. Mia notices too, but she looks a little annoyed that you made the right decision. Tori, on the other hand, is still battling for her life. She whispers, @@.tori;"I'm trying ''so'' hard to remember numbers right now."@@ One of the other girls mutters, @@.girl;"Same,"@@ and nearly misses the next movement because of it. You don't say anything. You just stay with Jessica. And it works. <</if>>\ As it ends, everyone immediately gives up all of their composure. Every bit of energy was used up to stay on time. Jessica steps back from the front. She's still composed, but definitely pushing herself to stay that way now. Hell, even Mia looks a little less smug than before. That's the clearest sign yet that practice has been brutal. Coach Moore gives people a moment before saying, @@.moore;"You can take another break."@@ People are relieved. @@.moore;"But rest up, as you've got one final thing to do before practice ends,"@@ she adds, before anyone can get too comfortable. And just like that, the break stops feeling restful and starts feeling like a countdown. <<button "Last section of practice" "Day 25 - Cheer 20">><</button>>

<<if $d25cheerlockerthoughts is 0>>\ <<set $transgender to Math.clamp($transgender + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $cisgender to Math.clamp($cisgender - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You keep standing there outside the locker room, listening to the voices on the other side of the door. The feeling that rises in you is way too sharp to brush off. It isn't annoyance. You kind of wish it //were// annoyance, as that would be easy to brush off. You could roll your eyes, tell yourself the timing sucked, lean against the wall for a few minutes, and be done with it. Easy. But this feels weirder than that. More personal, really. The closed door doesn't just feel inconvenient. It feels more like something you want really badly is being held just out of reach. Inside, the girls keep talking and laughing like normal, and every little sound somehow makes it worse. Jessica sounds so comfortable in there. Tori keeps joking around. Ashley's voice cuts in, calm and steady, like she's been in this exact moment a hundred times before. It's all so... normal for them. No one inside is thinking about whether they belong there. No one has to stop at the door and wait and figure out what the hell to do with their body. You stare at the floor, and ''envy'' hits you hard. You just wish you were a part of it. Be one of the people inside without it meaning anything. Without it making a statement. Walk through the door with your bag over your shoulder, roll your eyes at whatever Tori's saying, laugh at Jessica's response, and get changed. The thought just will NOT leave your mind. You wish you could go in like them. But when you think it like that, when you think it that clearly, your brain sort of flinches away from it. It's like it caught itself standing too close to something dangerous. Because what do these thoughts even //mean//? You don't know. You don't have a neat explanation ready. All you know is that the feeling is there and it's very real. You try to reason with yourself. Maybe it's because you've been around the team more? All the cheerleaders are really cool, and you wouldn't mind hanging out with them more. Or maybe it's because you're feeling a fear of missing out? You're just... worried you're being excluded. Yeah! That's right... No it's not. Your explanations feel flimsy the second they form. If it was FOMO, it wouldn't hurt like this. It wouldn't feel like longing. The noise inside rises again, as even more laughter forms. Something in your chest //twists// so suddenly that you have to cover your eyes. You feel like a dumbass for reacting this strongly. You feel so exposed. So vulnerable, even though no one's looking at you right now. You shift your bag higher on your shoulder and swallow hard, trying to calm down and make your feelings shrink into something more manageable. But it doesn't really go away. It just... waits there. If only you were like them. <<elseif $d25cheerlockerthoughts is 1>>\ You stand outside the locker room for another second, listening to the voices inside, before letting out a quiet breath. Yeah, this makes sense. It's not even really a question, when you stop and think about it. The girls are changing in there. Of course you're not supposed to go in. It would be weird if you did. Weird for them, weird for you. So, no. You'll just stay outside. It's bad timing. That's all. Girls use the girls' room. You're a guy, so you don't use the girls' room. End of story. <<elseif $d25cheerlockerthoughts is 2>>\ You stay there outside the locker room door, listening to the voices inside, and the truth is that you can't quite pin down what you're feeling. That's the worst part. If you were just annoyed or embarrassed, then that would be fine. But instead it's this messy in-between feeling that doesn't sit right no matter how you put it. You're standing here because you obviously can't go in, and you know that. But knowing it doesn't actually tell you what to do with that weird //twist// in your chest while you wait. Inside, the girls keep talking like normal. Jessica laughs at something Tori says, and Ashley answers in that calm voice of hers. Lockers close, bags shift, people move around. The whole thing feels ordinary to them. You look at the closed door and feel a weird mix of things all at once. Part of you thinks that this is obviously how it has to be. Another part of you doesn't like that fact. Fuck, you wish you knew what the right reaction was supposed to be. <</if>>\ <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - Cheer 3">><</button>>

The break is longer than the others, though not long enough for anyone to actually recover fully. It gives the team //just// enough time to stop feeling like they're about to pass out. Instead, it's just regular exhaustion. Girls sit and stretch out whatever still hurts, water bottles get emptied, and deep breaths are taken. @@.tori;"Maybe if I stay here long enough, I'll become part of the floor,"@@ Tori says, lying flat on her back. @@.ashley;"Maybe you'd be less tired if you weren't always talking,"@@ Ashley says, sitting nearby with one knee up. @@.tori;"But then you guys wouldn't be as motivated!"@@ @@.mia;"I'd be more motivated without your yapping,"@@ Mia murmurs. One of the girls nearby snorts. @@.girl;"I agree."@@ @@.tori;"You guys are being rude to a woman who just went through hell and back,"@@ Tori says, pouting. @@.mia;"You're acting like we survived a natural disaster,"@@ Mia says, rolling her eyes. @@.tori;"We did,"@@ Tori says. @@.tori;"A manmade natural disaster named Coach Moore."@@ That gets a few tired laughs, even from people who probably shouldn't be wasting their breath. Jessica is sitting off to the side with her bottle in hand, calmer than most but definitely feeling it too. She's started looking human while in cheer captain mode. Coach Moore claps again, changing the whole atmosphere in an instant. @@.moore;"Up,"@@ she says. A groan rolls through the gym as people drag themselves back into standing. You push yourself up too, using the rest of your energy to do so. Around you, the team reforms reluctantly, girls still dazed. Coach Moore waits until everyone is mostly in place before speaking. @@.moore;"We're combining everything,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"We'll be using everything you practiced so far and move on to a full routine. You'll perform it all the way through."@@ //Shit.// Your whole body immediately remembers how much everything hurt. The runs, the jumps, the timing. And now the reward for all of that is doing the full thing while already exhausted. One of the cheerleaders lets out a small, hopeless, @@.girl;"Oh my God."@@ @@.moore;"I believe that anyone can perform fresh,"@@ Coach Moore states. @@.moore;"I want to see what you look like when tired."@@ Jessica moves to the front again, getting into formation with the rest of the team. The girls around you shift into place too, shaking out arms, adjusting footing, taking one last breath before everything starts. Nobody's eager about this, but everyone knows it has to be done. There's a serious quiet over the group now. Less chatter and complaining, even from Tori. Coach Moore's voice cuts across the gym one more time. @@.moore;"Get ready."@@ You get into position, mind trying to decide what kind of performance you can realistically pull out of yourself in this state. This isn't just one drill at a time anymore, it's everything together. The full routine. So... what are you going to focus on? <<button "Match the group and protect the formation" "Day 25 - Cheer 21">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice5 to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_5" "Match the group and protect the formation" "story">><</button>> <<button "Push yourself to stand out to prove you belong here" "Day 25 - Cheer 21">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice5 to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_5" "Push yourself to stand out to prove you belong here" "story">><</button>> <<button "Focus on not making any obvious mistakes" "Day 25 - Cheer 21">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice5 to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_5" "Focus on not making any obvious mistakes" "story">><</button>> <<button "Cut corners as everyone is too tired to notice" "Day 25 - Cheer 21">>\<<set $d25cheerpractice5 to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_practice_5" "Cut corners as everyone is too tired to notice" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d25cheerpractice5 is 0>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints += 2>>\ You tell yourself something very simple: Stay with the team, $name. Not almost with them, not only with them when it's convenient, but really with them. You keep your eyes on the formation, your timing tied to the group, and your movements clean. You resist the temptation to overdo anything, letting some parts feel smaller than they maybe should. Why? Because being in the right place matters more than standing out. And once you commit to that, it works. The routine is still hard, for sure. Your lungs are basically begging for mercy at this point. But because you're focused on staying with the group, everything holds together better. When the team shifts, you shift with them instead of trying to force something. Jessica's energy at the front helps too, of course. It turns out the cheer captain is good at cheer. Shocker. Tori, on the other hand, is still visibly fighting for her life by the second half of the routine, but even she manages to stay where she needs to be. Ashley is as controlled as one can be after a brutal practice. Mia is doing well, although you see her glancing toward you from time to time. And you? Well, you fit. Not perfectly, you're still very new to cheerleading. But for two weeks, you're doing great. You fit the routine well, and it feels ''earned''. By the end, your body's running on discipline more than energy. But by the time you're at the end, you land with the rest of the team. Together. Coach Moore doesn't say anything to you directly, but there's something about the way her eyes pass over you that says enough. You did the smart thing. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice5 is 1>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints -= 1>>\ When the routine begins, some part of you decides this is the moment to prove it. You don't want to just survive and barely get through it. You want to prove that you belong here. So you push harder. You hit the motions with more force, put more energy into the big moments, and try to make your performance look stronger than it might have if you just played it safe. At first, it almost works. The energy is electric. It makes you feel bold in a way that seems like it should matter. But you're in a routine, not performing solo. Once you start trying to stand out, the problem shows up fast. It's subtle at first. Just a little too much attack on one motion or a turn that's too fast. You look like you're slightly off rhythm. Not wildly off, luckily. But enough that you look like you're performing beside the group, not with it. But shit, you can feel it when it happens. The energy you're putting in doesn't read as confidence. It just makes you look like you're trying too hard. The rest of the routine goes by, and the most frustrating part is that you're not bad. The effort you're putting in is as real as it gets. But it's in the wrong direction. By the final motion, you already know what you did wrong. Coach Moore doesn't say a word, but you don't even bother looking at her. She's definitely noticed you, with how you singled yourself out. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice5 is 2>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints += 1>>\ Just don't screw anything up, $name. That's all you tell yourself. Don't chase anything, including perfection. Don't try to stand out. Don't be bigger, faster, or stronger. Just keep everything under control and get through it without any glaring mistakes. Believe it or not, it works. Your performance is very decent and consistent. You hit the counts you need to hit. You keep your place in the formation. You don't lose anything major, and you don't have any obvious breakdowns. Considering how tired you are, that's a success. But even you can notice that it //is// a little cautious. You're holding yourself back a little, choosing safety to the point where it can be a detriment. Everything is //fine//, but you're just //doing// the routine. You're not really performing it. But still, by the time the final motion lands, you know you didn't embarrass yourself. That's not bad at all, to be honest. It's not the most convincing run, but you remind yourself you just started cheering two weeks ago. Being careful isn't bad when you're new. <<elseif $d25cheerpractice5 is 3>>\ <<set $d25practicepoints -= 2>>\ Dude, you are ''exhausted''. You really are tired after all you've done today. And your brain tells you that nobody's going to notice if you ease up a little. Not a lot, but enough that you won't be struggling to walk tomorrow. Trim a bit of flair on the transitions, let a motion be smaller, let a jump be lower. Just small stuff like that. The whole team is too exhausted to police these tiny differences anyway. That is, unfortunately, a terrible plan. The thing about a full routine is that all these little pieces connect. The second you start cutting corners, the performance falls apart. The transition loses its snap, the motion ends too early, the jump feels lazy. It's obvious that you're not giving the same level of effort as the people around you. And Coach Moore notices, because of course she does. You know she does because you can feel it before you even look at her. Her gaze sends a shiver up your spine. You //know// that she's watching, and you //know// that she's disappointed. You, $name, have made yourself stand out in the worst possible way. Guess what? ''Everyone is exhausted.'' Yet they're all putting in effort. You're the only one visibly slacking. By the end, you try to clean it up a little, but it's too late. The final motion lands, and you don't even want to look at Coach Moore. You can imagine her expression already. <</if>>\ The routine wraps up, and the whole team is officially done. Everyone's breathing hard with their shoulders drooped. Coach Moore lets everyone struggle for a few seconds before saying, @@.moore;"Practice is over."@@ Girls celebrate as if they've just been released from prison. Tori is praying, although you're not sure which deity it's toward. One of the girls says, @@.girl;"Thank God."@@ Mia does her best to act like she's not affected, but her panting exposes her. @@.moore;"You can rest and leave whenever you want now,"@@ Coach announces. @@.moore;"Rest up and recover properly, alright? I don't want you all limping into school tomorrow."@@ A couple girls laugh weakly at that. @@.moore;"Get home safe."@@ And with that, practice is finally over. <<button "Wasn't easy, huh?" "Day 25 - Cheer 22">><</button>>

You follow the cheer team toward the bleachers. You're not even sure why, really. Your brain needs rest, and decides to go with the herd. By the time you climb onto the bleachers and sit, your whole body feels like it's about to quit without giving a two-week notice. Around you, the others settle in too. Mia drops down, Tori collapses a row behind, and Jessica ends up right beside you. She's still got that same composed posture she's somehow still trying to maintain even after everything. For a few seconds, the group just breathes. That's all you have energy for, anyway. Everyone has flushed faces, sweat dripping, and tired limbs. Practice had been exhausting, after all. Jessica is still doing her best, though. She's sitting with her back straighter than it really needs to be, breathing in careful little pulls like she's trying to recover in a way that still looks polished. It would work if she didn't look so obviously tired. @@.mia;"Jessica, you can stop trying to look elegant,"@@ Mia says, sounding amused. @@.mia;"Nobody's judging your breathing."@@ Jessica turns her head slowly, still catching her breath. @@.jessica;"I'm not trying to look elegant."@@ @@.player;"You kinda are,"@@ you say. Jessica gives you a look. @@.jessica;"Is it really that obvious?"@@ @@.mia;"It wouldn't be obvious if practice wasn't this hard,"@@ Mia states. @@.mia;"Look, just get the oxygen. Breathe in like a normal person."@@ Jessica hesitates, glancing from Mia, to you, then up toward Tori, like she actually needs confirmation. @@.jessica;"You all seriously wouldn't mind?"@@ @@.player;"Seriously,"@@ you confirm. Mia nods. @@.mia;"I have bigger problems than to judge the way you recover, Jessica."@@ Behind you, Tori lifts one hand weakly from where she's sprawled and says, @@.tori;"You might as well breathe honest, Jess."@@ That finally gets Jessica to cave. She leans back on her arms and stretches one leg out across the bench. The next inhale she takes is deeper and less controlled. She keeps going like that for while, and little by little the effort in her posture drips away. @@.jessica;"Okay, that's better,"@@ she says after a moment. Mia nods, satisfied. @@.mia;"You looked like you were trying to serve while recovering."@@ You laugh under your breath, and Jessica nudges your leg with hers. @@.jessica;"I'm never listening to either of you again."@@ Behind you, Tori is doing dramatically worse. She fumbles with the zipper on her skirt and drags it down a little, then kicks off her shoes. Her socks go next, peeled off in one miserable motion before she lets herself sink back against the bleachers. Her bare feet are out, and her shirt has ridden up enough to show some tummy. She doesn't seem to care, though. @@.tori;"This is torture,"@@ she says with full conviction. @@.tori;"I know I say that every time we practice, but this is, like, ''really'' torture."@@ @@.ashley;"You'll be fine in a few minutes,"@@ Ashley says. You hadn't even noticed Ashley was gone, and you definitely didn't notice her coming back. She's carrying a small stack of towels, looking a little flushed herself but nowhere near as wrecked as the rest of you. She tosses one toward each of you. Jessica catches hers and presses it to the back of her neck with a grateful exhale. @@.jessica;"Where did you get these?"@@ @@.ashley;"Storage room,"@@ Ashley says simply. @@.ashley;"They're clean, don't worry."@@ @@.player;"This is amazing, thank you,"@@ you say, using the towel to wipe off some sweat. Ashley shrugs. @@.ashley;"It seemed like it'd be useful."@@ Mia takes her towel, then reaches for Ashley with her other hand. @@.mia;"Come here,"@@ she says, and before Ashley can say anything, Mia pulls her in closer by the hip and starts rubbing her hands around Ashley's legs. Ashley laughs, caught off guard but not to the point where she'd bother fighting her off. @@.ashley;"Mia."@@ @@.mia;"What?"@@ Mia says, pressing her face against Ashley's thighs and looking up innocently. @@.mia;"I'm showing gratitude."@@ @@.ashley;"With your hands."@@ @@.mia;"Yes."@@ Ashley accepts her fate. @@.ashley;"Alright."@@ @@.mia;"You brought towels after that excrutiating practice,"@@ Mia says, maybe a little //too// appreciative. @@.mia;"That deserves some love."@@ Jessica shakes her head. @@.jessica;"You're unbelievable."@@ @@.mia;"Ashley likes it,"@@ Mia says, though you're not sure if that's true. Ashley laughs again before finally sitting down close to her. Mia's hand moves to rest possessively on her thigh. Tori takes her towel and drops it straight over her face without even unfolding it all the way. @@.tori;"I'm going to ask my counselor if I can quit cheerleading and join chess."@@ @@.ashley;"You don't have the brain for chess,"@@ Ashley says. @@.tori;"Well, I don't have the body for cheer, so it can't be too much harder,"@@ Tori murmurs. You use your own towel to wipe some sweat off your neck, and it feels really nice. @@.player;"This helps way more than I expected it too."@@ <<set $postpracticerestCG to true>>\ <<set $postpracticerestCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $postpracticerestCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<include "CG_PostPracticeRest">>\ @@.ashley;"I can't have you suffering while drenched,"@@ Ashley says. @@.player;"That's what I was planning on."@@ @@.ashley;"That's stupid."@@ @@.player;"I'm stupid."@@ @@.jessica;"Good job though, everyone,"@@ Jessica says, ready to help raise team morale. @@.jessica;"Coach was here today, which is ''not'' easy. But everyone did their best. Even you, Tori."@@ @@.tori;"Udhapgh,"@@ Tori blurts out, unable to form words. @@.mia;"$name didn't totally crash and burn,"@@ Mia says. @@.mia;"That's gotta count for something."@@ You turn to her. @@.player;"You were almost nice there."@@ @@.mia;"It //was// nice,"@@ Mia says. @@.mia;"Don't get greedy."@@ You laugh softly and lean back against the bleachers. Your body still doesn't feel like your own, but sitting here with all of them next to you? With Jessica finally relaxing, Mia being handsy, Ashley calm and practical as ever, and Tori half a corpse? There's something really good about the moment too. <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - Cheer 23">><</button>>

<<set $cheerleader to true>>\ <<if $d25moore1 is true>>\ After a little while, people start peeling off the bleachers to go home. Jessica eventually heads off to grab her things. Tori manages to get up, dragging herself away. She claims she can't feel one of her legs until the very end. Mia and Ashley linger, but eventually they head off to change too. You're standing when Coach Moore's voice reaches you. @@.moore;"$name."@@ <<if $d25practicepoints is 10>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 7, 0, 100)>>\ You get nervous right away, even though you knew this would happen. Of course she'd call you afterward. Coach Moore is standing near the edge of the gym with her clipboard tucked under her arm. She looks at you for a second, really letting your imagination run wild. Did you do bad? Is she kicking you off the team? But then she ends up saying, @@.moore;"I'm glad to see you really showed up."@@ You blink. @@.player;"Huh?"@@ @@.moore;"I meant what I said earlier,"@@ she continues. @@.moore;"I said if you want to stay, then you stay properly. And I'm pleased to see that you heeded my advice."@@ The praise is so direct it almost throws you off. You were expecting criticism, not praise. Coach Moore notices that too, probably, because one corner of her mouth shifts up a little. @@.moore;"You listened,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"And, frankly, I don't think I could've expected anything more from you today. You did a good job, especially considering you've only been cheering for two weeks now. Color me impressed."@@ @@.player;"Thank you, Coach,"@@ you say, letting out a sigh of relief. She says, dry as ever, @@.moore;"Maybe I should've been the one asking you to stay on the team."@@ It takes you a second to realize that that was a joke. You laugh a little, surprised to realize Coach Moore knew what humor was. @@.moore;"But don't let it get to your head,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"One strong practice does not buy you a free pass for the rest of the season. You need to keep it up."@@ @@.player;"Got it."@@ @@.moore;"But, to be fair, it //was// a strong practice,"@@ she adds. And because it's Coach Moore specifically saying it, it means a lot to you. <<elseif $d25practicepoints > 5>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You get up and head over, still a little sore everywhere. It's a bit scary, to be honest, even though you expected her to want to have a private chat with you after practice. You don't think you did bad. You //hope// you didn't do bad. Coach Moore waits until you're close enough before speaking. @@.moore;"You had a good practice,"@@ she says. The words are simple, but from her? From //Coach Moore//? That's pretty good. @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you say, not trusting yourself to say too much. @@.moore;"Now, it wasn't perfect,"@@ she clarifies. @@.moore;"There were still places where I could see room for improvement. But overall? Especially considering you've been cheering for two weeks? Quite impressive."@@ That feels nice to hear. Your efforts being acknowledged. Coach Moore continues, @@.moore;"More importantly, it looked like you were trying your best to do the work the right way. I don't expect you to be perfect, but I expect you to try your best to be perfect. That's what I needed to see, and that's what I got."@@ @@.player;"I really was trying,"@@ you say. @@.moore;"I could tell,"@@ she says. There's no softness in the way she says it, but there is some solid approval. She isn't trying to make you feel better. She doesn't really consider the way you feel to be her problem. She's just being honest. @@.moore;"If you want to stay, then practices like that help your case."@@ It feels good to hear that. Today counted, it helped you. You nod. @@.player;"I understand, Coach."@@ Coach Moore gives a nod back. @@.moore;"Good. Improve where you can, $name, and you're in for a good time with cheer."@@ You don't want to say it in case you jinx it, but it feels like you've earned a bit of her respect today. <<elseif $d25practicepoints > 1>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 3, 0, 100)>>\ You start heading over, already trying to guess from her face which direction this is going to go. It's impossible to, though, considering she's not wearing an expression. She looks at you for a few beats before saying, @@.moore;"It wasn't bad."@@ You suppose that isn't terrible. @@.player;"Okay,"@@ you say, letting out a tiny breath. @@.moore;"Don't get too relieved,"@@ Coach Moore says. @@.moore;"I said it wasn't bad. I did not say it was strong."@@ That pulls you back. She keeps going, matter-of-fact as ever. @@.moore;"You had some decent moments in there. Some parts where you managed to get something to work well enough. But you also had some weak spots, and they were often glaring. You're still inconsistent."@@ You nod. It's not fun to hear it out loud, but even you have to admit that it's true. @@.moore;"I can work with inconsistent,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"If you work hard enough, we can stamp out the unevenness. I just don't want you to think 'not bad' is enough. I can't work with someone who stays uneven forever."@@ @@.player;"Not bad //isn't// enough,"@@ you echo. @@.moore;"Correct,"@@ Coach Moore says. @@.moore;"But I've also seen enough today to say you're not hopeless. I know that may sound mean, but you've only been cheering for two weeks. This really isn't bad for two weeks. I can see some potential."@@ @@.player;"Thanks...?"@@ you say, unsure how to take it. @@.moore;"It's nicer than it sounds,"@@ she says. It's not warm. Not even close. But sometimes you need this kind of brutal honesty. She's not blowing smoke, she's telling you the cold, hard truth. @@.moore;"Keep working, you've got things to refine,"@@ she says. You nod. @@.player;"I will."@@ @@.moore;"See that you do."@@ And that's the end of it. <<elseif $d25practicepoints > -3>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism - 3, 0, 100)>>\ As you walk over, you already have a pretty good idea of what Coach Moore is going to say. That this isn't going to be one of the better conversations. @@.moore;"I'm disappointed in that performance,"@@ she says once you're close enough. That doesn't feel too good, mostly because of how plain the words are. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, looking down out of embarrassment. She watches your face, probably checking whether you're going to argue. When you don't, she continues. @@.moore;"I'm disappointed, but mostly because I can see the potential. That's the part that frustrates me, $name."@@ That... somehow feels even worse than the first sentence. Coach Moore folds her arms. @@.moore;"There were moments today where you showed me exactly why this could work. Then there were others where you lost control, making choices that dragged the whole thing down. That tells me this isn't a matter of ability. It's a matter of refinement."@@ @@.player;"So you're saying I messed up,"@@ you clarify. @@.moore;"Yes,"@@ she says, not even attempting to cushion it. @@.moore;"You did."@@ But she doesn't stop there. @@.moore;"But that is not the same thing as saying you don't belong here,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"It means you need to clean things up, and fast."@@ That helps soothe you a little. @@.moore;"You've got things worth building on,"@@ she says, shifting the clipboard a little. @@.moore;"But right now, they're buried under too many bad habits and weak decisions."@@ You nod. It's not great to hear that, but it is true. @@.moore;"Refine them,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"If you want to stay a cheerleader, I'm going to have to see more than this next time."@@ <<elseif $d25practicepoints > -7>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism - 5, 0, 100)>>\ The fact that Coach Moore is even wearing an expression lets you know that this is going to be rough. You stop in front of her, bracing for impact. She gets right to it. @@.moore;"You will need to seriously step it up."@@ No preamble or lead-in, just that. Your stomach drops. @@.player;"Coach–"@@ She lifts a hand, and you stop. @@.moore;"I was very clear with you earlier,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"If you stay on this team, then you stay properly. What I saw today was ''not'' that."@@ There's no anger in her voice, but that makes it worse. She sounds very disappointed in a practical way, like she's looking at a problem she may be forced to solve. @@.moore;"You had a bad practice,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"Not one or two bad moments, no. A bad practice. Period."@@ You go quiet. @@.moore;"That doesn't mean I'm making a decision right this instant,"@@ Coach Moore says, keeping her eyes on you. @@.moore;"But it does mean that I'm considering my options."@@ @@.player;"You mean finding another cheerleader?"@@ you say slowly, hoping you're not right. @@.moore;"Yes,"@@ she says bluntly, crushing your dreams. @@.moore;"I have to think about what's best for the team, not just what's best for you."@@ You nod, not having much to add to that. @@.moore;"If you want to change the direction this is heading, you need to give me a reason, and you need to give it soon,"@@ Coach Moore adds. You manage, @@.player;"I understand."@@ @@.moore;"I hope you do,"@@ she finishes. <<elseif $d25practicepoints > -10>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism - 7, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25CheerKick">>\ <<set $cheerleader to false>>\ You head over, and the walk feels longer than it should. Mostly because you know you fucked up. She doesn't make you stand there in suspense. The second you slow to a stop in front of her, she says, @@.moore;"I can't have this."@@ Even though you knew she would say this, it doesn't make the delivery any easier. Coach Moore's actually wearing an expression, and it's one of disappointment. @@.moore;"I was willing to see what you'd do today,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"I was willing to give you the chance to show me this could work."@@ Your throat feels tight. @@.moore;"But what I ended up seeing was not acceptable."@@ You look down, face hot now. @@.player;"Coach..."@@ She shakes her head. @@.moore;"No. I'm not going to do a long speech or debate this with you. I'm telling you clearly: I can't keep you on the team after that."@@ There it is. The flat, clean finality of a strict coach making a decision she thinks she has to make. @@.moore;"I'm very disappointed to see this, especially after our conversation earlier."@@ That hurts. Coach Moore asked for commitment. She asked if you could handle it, and you said you could. And then practice happened the way it happened. @@.moore;"This isn't personal, but I just can't justify keeping you on the team,"@@ Coach Moore says. You nod once, mostly because you don't want to see what'll come out if you try to say anything right now. And then it's over. You, $name, are off the team. <<elseif $d25practicepoints is -10>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism - 10, 0, 100)>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25CheerKick">>\ <<set $cheerleader to false>>\ When you stop in front of her, she looks at you for a long second. The silence says everything that needs to be said before she even opens her mouth. Then she says, @@.moore;"I can't have this."@@ Her tone is flat and final. You don't answer right away. You can't, really. You know how badly you messed up this practice. It was one long chain of bad choices, failed exercises, and visible mistakes. She knows it just as well as you do, if not more. @@.moore;"I'm very disappointed to see this,"@@ Coach Moore says. She's not angry, no. She's just disappointed. @@.moore;"I gave you a chance to show me what staying on this team would look like,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"What I saw today was a complete failure to meet that standard."@@ The bluntness of it nearly knocks the air out of you. You try to say something, //anything//, but Coach Moore cuts it off with a small shake of her head. @@.moore;"No, I'm not interested in arguing about it,"@@ she states, shutting you down. @@.moore;"I watched the same practice you were in."@@ She shifts the clipboard a little. @@.moore;"If this had just been one weak section, we'd be having another conversation right now. It was wrong turn after wrong turn after wrong turn. At that point, I am not being fair to the team if I pretend I can keep this going."@@ You feel sick. Coach Moore doesn't soften the message, but she doesn't twist the knife either. @@.moore;"So I'm making the decision for you. You are done."@@ You can't really do anything except stand there and absorb it. It's over. You, $name, are off the team. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ Coach Moore calls you over near the end, after most of the team has already drifted out. @@.moore;"$name."@@ <<if $d25practicepoints > 5>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism + 5, 0, 100)>>\ You head over, sore everywhere. Coach Moore looks at you for a second, then says, @@.moore;"You had a good practice."@@ The words catch you a little off guard. She notices, but keeps going. @@.moore;"Overall, I'm quite pleased with what I see today. Good enough that it makes this mildly inconvenient."@@ You blink. @@.player;"What?"@@ @@.moore;"I told you I'd start looking for a replacement since you were looking to leave the team,"@@ Coach Moore begins explaining. @@.moore;"And I will. But for what it's worth, you might not be too bad if you stayed on the team."@@ That feels weirdly nice. Not because she says it warmly, but because she doesn't. The bluntness makes it hit harder. She isn't trying to comfort you or make you feel good when you're about to leave the team. She's just giving you the truth as she sees it. @@.player;"That almost sounds like a compliment,"@@ you say, chuckling. @@.moore;"It is,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"Don't get cocky, though."@@ That gets a short laugh out of you. @@.moore;"I'll look for another cheerleader, don't worry about that,"@@ Coach Moore reassures. @@.moore;"But it does stand that you did a good job today."@@ You nod. @@.player;"Thanks, Coach."@@ She nods back. @@.moore;"Get home and recover properly."@@ <<elseif $d25practicepoints > -7>>\ You head over and stop in front of her. In usual Coach Moore fashion, she doesn't waste time. @@.moore;"You did alright,"@@ she says. It's not glowing praise, exactly. But she doesn't seem to be disappointed either. She's just plain and direct, not seeing the point in dressing it up. You nod. @@.player;"Alright."@@ @@.moore;"Some parts were fine, some parts still need work,"@@ she elaborates. @@.moore;"But if we're being fair, you got through it well enough."@@ You take that in. It's kind of refreshing to have this kind of honesty. There's no need to read around what she means. Coach Moore continues, @@.moore;"What I told you earlier still stands. I am going to start looking for a replacement."@@ @@.player;"Understood, Coach,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.moore;"But I do appreciate the fact that you helped when the team needed someone,"@@ she adds. @@.moore;"Jessica went to you for a reason. I'm not going to act like that didn't mean a lot."@@ It's nice to have your contributions recognized out loud. @@.player;"Thank you, Coach,"@@ you say. @@.moore;"So, from here on out, I'll handle the rest,"@@ Coach Moore says, nodding. @@.moore;"Go get some rest."@@ <<else>>\ <<set $athleticism to Math.clamp($athleticism - 5, 0, 100)>>\ You head over, already pretty sure where this is going. @@.moore;"I'm glad we already had the earlier conversation,"@@ Coach Moore says. You don't respond, because that's not exactly a promising start. @@.moore;"You had a very rough practice,"@@ she continues. It's not harsh, it's true. You were out there and you're not stupid. You know how you did, and it wasn't pretty. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you murmur, embarrassed. @@.moore;"There were a few moments where I could see what this might have looked like if things had gone better,"@@ Coach Moore says. @@.moore;"But overall? It really wasn't there today."@@ You can't quite argue with that. @@.moore;"Which means, practically speaking, there needs to be a replacement,"@@ she states, rather pragmatic. @@.moore;"I'm going to start looking."@@ You let out a quiet breath. @@.player;"Understood."@@ @@.moore;"That doesn't erase the fact that you stepped in when the team needed someone,"@@ Coach Moore adds. @@.moore;"Jessica went to you for a reason. I'm not going to act like that didn't mean a lot. I appreciate you helping my squad."@@ That helps, a little. @@.moore;"But it also doesn't change what I saw today,"@@ she finishes. @@.player;"Don't worry, Coach, I get it,"@@ you say, kind of wanting this to be over. She gives a nod. @@.moore;"Good. Now go home and rest. I'll deal with the rest from here."@@ <</if>>\ And with that, the conversation ends as simply as it began. <</if>>\ <<button "Cheerleading Week 4 - Complete" "Day 25 - 22">><</button>>

You're still standing there outside the locker room when a voice cuts in from the side. @@.mia;"Why are you lurking?"@@ You nearly jump out of your shoes. You whip your head up to see Mia standing there. You hadn't even heard her coming. One second the hallway was empty except for you, and the next Mia's just there looking way too amused by how badly she startled you. She has that same smug expression she always seems to wear. It's as if in her mind, the world exists mostly to entertain her. @@.player;"Oh my God, Mia,"@@ you say, hand to your chest. Mia's smile sharpens. @@.mia;"Wow. You scare easy."@@ @@.player;"You appeared out of nowhere!"@@ @@.mia;"I walked here normally,"@@ Mia states. @@.mia;"Not my fault you were off in Daydreamland."@@ @@.player;"I was... thinking, alright?"@@ Mia glances at the locker room door, then back at you. @@.mia;"Soo..."@@ she says, dragging the word out a little, @@.mia;"what's going on?"@@ @@.player;"I got here early and they're still changing, so I'm waiting out here,"@@ you explain, nodding toward the door. Mia looks confused. @@.mia;"Why?"@@ she asks. You blink. For a second, you think she's joking. But you quickly realize that she isn't. @@.player;"...Because I'm a guy,"@@ you finally manage to say. @@.mia;"Oh."@@ She puts a hand over her mouth, already starting to laugh. @@.mia;"Wait, no, I genuinely forgot."@@ @@.player;"How do you manage to forget that?"@@ you ask. She shrugs, still smiling. @@.mia;"I don't know! You've just been... around."@@ @@.player;"That doesn't explain anything,"@@ you say. @@.mia;"Hate to break it to you, but that's the only answer I have."@@ You narrow your eyes. @@.player;"So in your head, I just stopped being a guy?"@@ Mia tilts her head, thinking. @@.mia;"Not stopped being a guy exactly,"@@ she says slowly. @@.mia;"More like... you became cheer-shaped."@@ @@.player;"What does that even mean?"@@ @@.mia;"Girl, I don't know,"@@ Mia says. @@.mia;"Locker room logistics are tough."@@ @@.player;"Indeed they are."@@ <<if $transgender > 24 and $acceptance > 49>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25CheerLockerRoom">>\ @@.mia;"This is ''so'' dumb,"@@ Mia says, rolling her eyes hard. @@.player;"What's dumb?"@@ you ask, confused. @@.mia;"This,"@@ Mia says, gesturing toward the door. @@.mia;"You standing out here like some reject orphan."@@ @@.player;"Okay, first off, that's rude,"@@ you say, raising a finger. @@.player;"Second, that is ''not'' what I'm doing."@@ @@.mia;"That's exactly what you're doing."@@ Before you can respond, Mia just reaches for the door handle. You immediately straighten. @@.player;"Wait, what are you–"@@ She opens the locker room door. Then, with complete confidence, she grabs your arm and shoves you inside. You stumble forward in total confusion. @@.player;"What the hell, Mia?"@@ You look up at the locker room, body tight, waiting for the moment everything goes wrong. Someone's going to scream, you're going to get reported, then expelled, then... Then... Why is nobody screaming? @@.jessica;"Oh, hey, $name,"@@ Jessica says, looking over first. Ashley glances up from brushing her hair and says, @@.ashley;"Oh, you got here early today."@@ Tori points at Mia. @@.tori;"Did you just kidnap him?"@@ Mia shuts the door behind you and leans against it. @@.mia;"He was doing this sad little thing where he was waiting outside."@@ @@.player;"That's because I was waiting while you all changed,"@@ you say, brain still trying to catch up to the fact that you're currently in the girls' room. Jessica blinks. @@.jessica;"Okay?"@@ @@.tori;"Were you seriously standing out there this whole time?"@@ Tori asks. @@.player;"Yes?"@@ you say, getting more and more confused. @@.player;"I thought that was what I was supposed to do."@@ @@.ashley;"I mean, I guess that was considerate?"@@ Ashley says with a small shrug. @@.ashley;"Not really necessary, though."@@ @@.mia;"What did I say, $name?"@@ Mia says, arms folded and a smug expression etched on her face. You look around the room again, still expecting someone to suddenly realize this is weird and throw you back out into the hallway. But nobody looks bothered. Not even a little. If anything, it feels like you were always supposed to be in here. Tori points at Jessica. @@.tori;"Anyway, I still think I should be allowed to sue if practice is too hard."@@ @@.jessica;"You can't sue a cheer captain for making you cheer,"@@ Jessica says. @@.tori;"I can try,"@@ Tori insists. Ashley nods at you. @@.ashley;"What do you think?"@@ @@.player;"I think Tori would absolutely lose in court,"@@ you respond. @@.tori;"Wowww,"@@ Tori says. @@.tori;"This is betrayal."@@ @@.girl;"He's right, though,"@@ a girl chimes in. And just like that, you're in it. No longer listening through a closed door, but in the middle of the conversation. You don't know what to do with how it feels other than to just... be happy. A minute ago you were alone, and now you're part of something. <<else>>\ @@.mia;"Anywho,"@@ Mia begins, shrugging, @@.mia;"I guess you can wait."@@ @@.player;"Out here?"@@ you ask. @@.mia;"I mean, yeah,"@@ she says like it's obvious. @@.mia;"Or the restroom's open if you want to go change in a stall."@@ You make a disgusted face. @@.player;"It smells."@@ @@.mia;"Looks like waiting it is, then,"@@ Mia says. @@.player;"That's it?"@@ you say, looking at her. @@.mia;"What else am I meant to say?"@@ @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you say, throwing your arms up. @@.player;"Something life-changing, maybe?"@@ Mia smiles a little, already turning toward the door. @@.mia;"I'm Mia, not a fairy godmother."@@ @@.player;"I'll wait, then,"@@ you say. @@.mia;"Enjoy,"@@ Mia says before slipping in alone, the door swinging shut behind her. And just like that, you're waiting again. <</if>>\ <<button "Locker room troubles" "Day 25 - Cheer 4">><</button>>

<<set $temptop to $top>>\ <<set $temppants to $pants>>\ <<set $tempoutfit to $outfit>>\ <<set $templowerUndergarment to $lowerUndergarment>>\ <<set $tempshoes to $shoes>>\ <<set $top to 8>>\ <<if $d11skirt is true>>\ <<set $pants to 5>>\ <<else>>\ <<set $pants to 4>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $shoes to 1>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <<if $hairStyle is 0 and $hairProg > 1>>\ <<set $hairStyle to 1>>\ <<set $hairtie to $currenthairtie>>\ <</if>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ A few minutes later, everybody's changed and gathered out on the gym floor. There's still some loose energy hanging in the air before things officially begin, of course. Pom-poms are off to the side, backpacks are tucked against the wall, and people are still tying their hair back or adjusting their shoes. Jessica steps forward once everyone's roughly in place and claps her hands. @@.jessica;"Okay, girls!"@@ she says clearly. @@.jessica;"We're starting with warmups. We're going to be running around a lot, so make sure to stretch properly. I'm not going to be supervising every single one of you, because if you skip warmup and something starts hurting later, that is fully between you and your poor choices."@@ @@.girl;"That's mean!"@@ a girl says. @@.jessica;"It's just true,"@@ Jessica says. Tori, meanwhile, has already started with... //something//. It might qualify as stretching if you were being extremely generous. She plants her feet too far apart, bends at a bizarre angle, lifts both arms, and twists her body. It looks less like a warmup and more like she's caught in an invisible net. @@.tori;"Ashleyyy,"@@ Tori calls out, freezing in place. @@.tori;"Is this good?"@@ Ashley, who has already started a perfectly normal stretch beside her, glances over once and says, @@.ashley;"It doesn't look that good."@@ Tori gasps. @@.tori;"You just don't see the vision."@@ @@.ashley;"No, I see it,"@@ Ashley corrects. @@.ashley;"It's just that I think the vision is bad."@@ That gets a few laughs from around the team, including one of the other girls who says, @@.girl;"I'm kinda with Ashley on this one."@@ @@.tori;"This is treason,"@@ Tori says, still folded into her weird sideways pose. Mia, a few spots away, just rolls her shoulders and starts stretching. She's annoyingly unbothered as usual. Ashley keeps going too, efficient as always. Jessica, meanwhile, begins her stretches. They're perfect. Of course they're perfect. What stretch should you do? <<button "Follow Tori" "Day 25 - Cheer 5">>\<<set $d25cheerwarmup to 0>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_warmup" "Follow Tori" "story">><</button>> <<button "Compete with Mia" "Day 25 - Cheer 5">>\<<set $d25cheerwarmup to 1>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_warmup" "Compete with Mia" "story">><</button>> <<button "Ask Ashley for advice" "Day 25 - Cheer 5">>\<<set $d25cheerwarmup to 2>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_warmup" "Ask Ashley for advice" "story">><</button>> <<button "Copy Jessica" "Day 25 - Cheer 5">>\<<set $d25cheerwarmup to 3>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_warmup" "Copy Jessica" "story">><</button>>

<<if $d25cheerwarmup is 0>>\ You decide, for whatever reason, to trust Tori. That might just be the dumbest decision you've made this week, and that's saying something. You drift over toward her just as she's transitioning from one suspicious pose into another. Up close, it somehow looks even stupider. One arm is stretched overhead, one leg is kicked out at a weird angle, and her expression is ''way'' too confident. @@.tori;"Oh my God, $name!"@@ Tori says, brightening the second she notices you. @@.tori;"You get it!"@@ @@.player;"...I don't think I do,"@@ you admit. @@.tori;"That's okay,"@@ Tori says, waving that off. @@.tori;"Understanding is the enemy of growth."@@ You stare at her. @@.player;"That //sounded// deep, but didn't make all that much make sense when I thought about it."@@ @@.tori;"Eh, if you don't think about it, it's good advice."@@ She points at your feet. @@.tori;"Okay. Wider stance. No, wider. Come on, that is barely different."@@ You sigh and shift your feet farther apart. @@.tori;"There we go,"@@ Tori says approvingly. @@.tori;"Now take your arms and do this and then lean."@@ You try to copy her and instantly feel ridiculous. @@.player;"This does not feel correct."@@ @@.tori;"That's because your body is resisting enlightenment,"@@ Tori says. @@.player;"Or injury,"@@ you mutter. @@.tori;"No, no, no, your hand goes here,"@@ Tori says. @@.tori;"Other hand. Other other hand. Yeah. Okay. That's closer."@@ You adjust awkwardly. The stretch does hit somewhere, but not in a satisfying way. If anything, you're confused as to what exactly you're pulling right now. @@.player;"Tori, what is this even stretching?"@@ you ask. She pauses, then with complete confidence, says, @@.tori;"Potential."@@ You laugh. @@.player;"Last time I checked, that was not a muscle."@@ @@.tori;"It should be."@@ One of the other girls nearby looks over and says, @@.girl;"That looks painful."@@ @@.tori;"No pain no gain,"@@ Tori says, not losing an ounce of conviction. The girl just shakes her head and walks off. You try to hold the stretch a little longer, but your balance starts to wobble. Tori catches you before you can fall over and embarrass yourself, then nods like this is all part of the process. @@.tori;"The fact that your body's confused means that it's learning,"@@ she teaches. @@.player;"I'm not sure about that,"@@ you say, straightening back up. @@.player;"You're making me do, like, haunted side bends."@@ Tori gasps. @@.tori;"That would be ''such'' a good name for my band."@@ @@.player;"You have a band?"@@ @@.tori;"No."@@ She immediately moves on to the next stretch, which is somehow even weirder. This one involves squatting slightly, reaching across your body, and rotating one shoulder in a weird way. Tori demonstrates it with a smile on her face. @@.tori;"Okay, this one's amazing for, like, everything,"@@ she says. @@.tori;"It gets every muscle, including potential."@@ @@.player;"I don't think that's how stretching works."@@ @@.tori;"Well, it's how //my// stretching works."@@ You try to copy her again and lose your balance for the second time in under a minute. Tori beams like this is evidence of success. @@.player;"This sucks,"@@ you tell her. @@.tori;"You'll thank me later,"@@ she responds. But somehow, against your better judgment, the whole thing becomes... kind of fun? Mostly because Tori is so committed to her own bizarre logic that you stop trying to make it make sense and just let yourself get dragged along. By the time you're both halfway through another ''completely'' unnecessary twist, you're laughing. @@.tori;"See?"@@ Tori says, looking absurdly pleased with herself. @@.tori;"You're getting it now."@@ @@.player;"I'm not,"@@ you say. @@.tori;"You totally are."@@ You totally aren't, but it's not worth arguing anymore. <<elseif $d25cheerwarmup is 1>>\ You end up drifting toward Mia, and ''not'' because she looks particularly inviting (she doesn't). Mia is already stretching on her own, not even breaking a sweat. It's like she's above the mere concept of struggling in public. That smug expression makes you want to prove something. You stop a few feet from her and start copying what she's doing. Mia, of course, notices immediately. The corner of her mouth lifts. @@.mia;"Oh, you're doing the thing."@@ @@.player;"What thing?"@@ you ask, continuing to stretch. @@.mia;"The thing where you come over and make it a competition."@@ @@.player;"I didn't make it into a competition,"@@ you say. @@.mia;"You don't have to say it for me to know what you're doing,"@@ Mia says, immediately moving into a forward fold. You bend down too, reaching farther than you normally would. @@.mia;"See? Competition."@@ @@.player;"I'm just stretching,"@@ you retort, even though you know you aren't. @@.mia;"Mhm,"@@ Mia says, voice full of doubt. @@.player;"I am!"@@ @@.mia;"Sure."@@ You hold the position a second longer than her out of spite. Mia, not looking strained in the slightest, says, @@.mia;"If you pull something over an ego battle, I will make fun of you forever."@@ @@.player;"Don't you make fun of me either way?"@@ you ask. @@.mia;"You got me,"@@ Mia says. You straighten back up and move into the next stretch at the exact same time she does, which only makes it worse. She goes for a quad stretch, balancing easily on one leg. You do the same but are much shakier. Mia looks at you wobbling and grins. @@.mia;"Aw. That is adorable."@@ @@.player;"Do not call me adorable,"@@ you say through gritted teeth. @@.mia;"You're right,"@@ Mia acknowledges. @@.mia;"You're actually very unstable."@@ @@.player;"That's not any better."@@ @@.mia;"You complain no matter what I do."@@ One of the girls warming up nearby mutters, @@.girl;"This is weirdly intense for stretching."@@ Mia answers without missing a beat. @@.mia;"He started it."@@ @@.player;"I absolutely did not,"@@ you argue. @@.mia;"You walked over here with that competitive energy,"@@ Mia says. @@.mia;"Of course I'd bite."@@ You try to switch sides without wobbling and almost pull it off. Almost. Mia catches the tiny hitch in your balance and looks unbearably satisfied. @@.mia;"There it is,"@@ she says. @@.mia;"That's the moment where you messed up."@@ @@.player;"Moment?"@@ you repeat, feigning ignorance. @@.player;"What moment? I didn't mess up."@@ @@.mia;"There was a very clear moment."@@ You reset and stretch the other leg anyway, because backing down now would be embarrassing. Mia is irritatingly steady. Mia, with a smirk on her face, decides to make your life worse. She says, @@.mia;"Want to compete?"@@ @@.player;"Compete how, exactly?"@@ you ask, concerned. @@.mia;"Who can hold a wall sit longer."@@ @@.player;"That is psychotic."@@ Mia snickers. @@.mia;"Sounds like you're scared."@@ @@.player;"I just don't want to hold a wall sit for ages before practice starts, alright?"@@ you say, scrambling for a justification. @@.mia;"Wahhh,"@@ Mia says, imitating a crying baby. @@.player;"I hate you,"@@ you say, heading toward the wall. @@.mia;"I'm so excited for this challenge,"@@ Mia says brightly. A few minutes later, you're collapsed on the floor, hamstrings dying, as Mia looks entirely too happy. <<elseif $d25cheerwarmup is 2>>\ You decide to make the sensible choice. You won't go for Tori and her alien stretches or try and start up your rivalry with Mia again. You'll go for cool, calm Ashley. She's already stretching nearby with that same energy she always seems to have. Nothing flashy, just normal warmups done correctly by a girl who knows what she's doing. After spending even ten seconds looking at Tori, the appeal of that becomes pretty obvious. @@.player;"Hey Ashley,"@@ you say as you get close. @@.player;"Can you help me with this?"@@ Ashley nods. @@.ashley;"Yeah, sure. What are you trying to do?"@@ You try to copy the stretch she just finished. But your stance is off, your shoulders are weird, and your hands struggle to go where they're meant to go. @@.ashley;"$name, almost none of that was right,"@@ Ashley says. You laugh under your breath. @@.player;"Okay. Great."@@ @@.ashley;"The good news is that it's fixable."@@ That makes it at least a little less embarrassing. She steps a little closer to you in order to demonstrate properly, pointing to your feet first. @@.ashley;"Start there. You're too narrow."@@ Once you adjust, she nods. @@.ashley;"Better. Now your shoulders. Relax them, otherwise you'll just be making things harder for yourself."@@ You let out a breath and try again. This time it feels steadier, even if you're still not doing it as well as she is. Ashley glances at your arms and makes a small face. @@.ashley;"No, not like that."@@ She demonstrates again, slower this time. @@.ashley;"Here."@@ You copy her more carefully. @@.ashley;"That's better,"@@ she says. You feel like you're doing an actual stretch now instead of just... moving your body. Ashley moves on to the next one, demonstrating it for you. @@.ashley;"Okay, try this one."@@ You do, but she immediately says, @@.ashley;"No."@@ You look up, surprised. @@.player;"You didn't even let me do anything."@@ @@.ashley;"I didn't need to,"@@ Ashley says. @@.ashley;"It was already wrong."@@ You reset and try again, and she helps you through it piece by piece. Every time you get something wrong, she corrects it in the same cool tone. Knees bent, back straighter. Don't force it, hold it. Breathe. Again. Better. No, you have to move that shoulder too. @@.girl;"Ashley, are you practicing to become a physical therapist?"@@ a cheerleader passing by asks. @@.ashley;"Someone has to,"@@ Ashley comments. You laugh at that, nearly messing up the stretch. Ashley looks back at you. @@.ashley;"Focus."@@ @@.player;"Yes, coach!"@@ you exclaim. @@.ashley;"I'm not your coach,"@@ she says. @@.ashley;"I'm just preventing nonsense."@@ @@.player;"I don't know why, but that feels mean."@@ @@.ashley;"I'm not being mean,"@@ Ashley says, snorting. @@.ashley;"You're improving."@@ The odd sincerity catches you off guard. You look over at her, surprised. She shrugs. @@.ashley;"Your form was worse two minutes ago."@@ @@.player;"Thank you,"@@ you murmur, embarrassed. @@.ashley;"You're welcome."@@ Weirdly enough, by the time you've gone through a few more stretches with her, you do feel like you've improved. It feels less like you're guessing and more like you actually know where your body is supposed to go. Ashley keeps things simple, fixing what's off every single time. She never makes you feel bad by acting like you should already know it. When you finish another stretch and hold it properly, Ashley nods in approval. @@.ashley;"There,"@@ she says. @@.ashley;"That one was actually good."@@ @@.player;"Really?"@@ you ask, looking at her. @@.ashley;"Yes,"@@ Ashley says coolly, flashing you a little smirk. A stupid part of you feels quite pleased by that compliment. <<elseif $d25cheerwarmup is 3>>\ You decide the safest move is to just copy Jessica. Why? Because Jessica is perfect. Par for the course, you suppose. She's stretching, yes, but she's doing it in a way that makes every movement look clean. It's as if her body understands what it's supposed to be doing and is executing it without any hitches. You shift a little closer and start mirroring her. @@.jessica;"Oh,"@@ Jessica says, noticing right away. @@.jessica;"You're copying me."@@ You don't even bother denying it. @@.player;"Well, you look like you know what you're doing."@@ @@.jessica;"Oh, that's because I do,"@@ Jessica says brightly. You smirk. @@.player;"Got a bit of an ego, huh?"@@ Jessica smirks back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. @@.jessica;"It's just true."@@ You snort and keep following her movements as she transitions into the next stretch. She notices you're a little behind, and slows down just enough to make it easier for you to keep up. It's subtle, but you're grateful. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ she says after a second. @@.jessica;"Feet a little wider, $name."@@ You adjust. @@.jessica;"There you go. And don't lock your knees."@@ @@.player;"I wasn't locking them,"@@ you defend. Jessica gives you a look. @@.player;"...Maybe I was locking them,"@@ you admit. @@.jessica;"Just a little,"@@ she says. You move into the next stretch with her, trying to match the angle she's holding. Jessica is still good at this, of course. But she's not even smug about it or anything, which somehow makes it worse. You end up watching her more closely than you mean to, mostly because every time you think you've got the movement down, she tweaks something, making you realize you were doing it wrong the whole time. @@.player;"How are you this coordinated?"@@ you ask. Jessica laughs softly. @@.jessica;"Practice?"@@ @@.player;"That feels fake,"@@ you say. @@.player;"Practice isn't real. It's a conspiracy made to get us to waste time."@@ @@.jessica;"Tori's rubbing off on you,"@@ Jessica says, letting out a loud sigh. She shifts into another stretch, this time a little deeper, and you follow. It pulls at your legs in a way that makes you realize she's right about warmups being important. They //do// matter. @@.jessica;"You're leaning too much on one side,"@@ Jessica corrects. @@.player;"I thought I was even,"@@ you murmur. @@.jessica;"You're not."@@ @@.player;"Wow."@@ @@.jessica;"It helps you in the long run,"@@ she says, smiling. @@.girl;"Jessica, you should start a channel as a fitness instructor,"@@ a nearby cheerleader says. Jessica laughs. @@.jessica;"Do you think it would do well?"@@ The girl shrugs. @@.girl;"Probably."@@ @@.player;"I can visualize it in my head already,"@@ you say. @@.player;"The title will be something like 'Three stretches you NEED before cheer practice.'"@@ @@.jessica;"Hmm, straddle stretches would be a must,"@@ Jessica says. @@.player;"Of course you know,"@@ you say. You continue, the rhythm becoming familiar. She shows, you copy, she corrects, you fix. Rinse and repeat until you're warmed up. By the time you're done with the whole sequence, you actually feel pretty damn warmed up. Everything hit something useful. Jessica straightens up and nods. @@.jessica;"You did good, $name,"@@ she says warmly. @@.player;"Yeah?"@@ you say, trying to play it cool. Jessica smiles. @@.jessica;"Yeah."@@ <</if>>\ <<button "Warmed up!" "Day 25 - Cheer 6">><</button>>

<<grantAchievement "D25CheerCoachMoore">>\ By the time warmup ends, the team pulls back together. Everyone's done stretching and talking, instead being lined up now. Everyone knows what's about to happen. A bit of cardio to get everyone warmed up and ready to practice. @@.jessica;"Okay,"@@ Jessica says, directing people into place for laps. @@.jessica;"Let's move! We're going to start with–"@@ The gym door opens. Heads turn to see that ''Coach Moore'' has just walked in. You can feel her effect right away. The whole room doesn't freeze or anything dramatic like that, no, but the energy definitely changes. A couple of girls straighten automatically, the slump in their posture gone. Someone near the back stops talking instantly. Coach Moore hasn't been around very much lately, and her absence has been noticeable enough that seeing her in person again is a bit intimidating. She strides in with her usual brisk, no-nonsense energy. A clipboard is tucked under one arm and her whistle necklace bounces. Coach Moore has a reputation of being strict, but fair. Even the people who've gotten in trouble because of her admit that she wasn't unfair. She gives the team one look, taking in everything at once. @@.jessica;"Coach!"@@ Jessica says, surprised. Coach Moore nods at her. @@.moore;"Jessica."@@ Then she diverts her eyes to the group as a whole. @@.moore;"As much as I trust our captain to keep things moving, I do still have a job to do."@@ That gets a few small smiles. @@.jessica;"I was about to say the same thing,"@@ Jessica says, laughing lightly. @@.jessica;"You haven't shown up in a while."@@ @@.moore;"I know,"@@ Coach Moore says. @@.moore;"But it is one of my responsibilities to be this team's coach. Alright. Get started on laps."@@ Everyone groans. Not loud enough to count as rebellion, though. Not to Coach Moore. @@.moore;"You can go slow for now,"@@ she says, holding a hand up. @@.moore;"In fact, I recommend you go slow. Enjoy it while you can, because practice will be tough today."@@ That earns more reactions. @@.tori;"She said to enjoy it,"@@ Tori mutters under her breath, treating Coach Moore like some cruel creature. @@.ashley;"She's warning us,"@@ Ashley says calmly. @@.tori;"It's a scary warning,"@@ Tori whispers. @@.girl;"I ''knew'' I had a bad feeling about today,"@@ one of the girls says. Mia just smirks like this is exactly the kind of thing she signed up for. She seems excited about it. You shift into place with the rest of them, body already bracing a little at the coach's tone. She hasn't even done anything yet, and somehow the practice already feels more official. Even a little dangerous. You get into a proper stance, ready to start with everyone else. That is until Coach Moore's voice cuts across the gym. @@.moore;"$name."@@ You stop. <<if $d12coachmoore is 0>>\ For a second, you think maybe she means someone else. But who else here would be named $name? You look up and realize she's watching you directly. <<else>>\ Your brain freezes for a second. Did you ever even actually tell her your real name? You look up and realize she's watching you directly. <</if>>\ @@.moore;"Over here,"@@ she says. Your stomach drops. Around you, everyone's attention shifts to you. It makes it very clear that yes, you are in fact being singled out right now. You're caught completely off guard, your legs suddenly feeling shaky. @@.moore;"Start jogging,"@@ Coach Moore says to the girls. Everyone starts moving, a few people throwing quick glances back at you. And just like that, instead of starting laps with everyone else, you're left standing there in surprise as Coach Moore calls you over. <<button "Coach Moore has arrived" "Day 25 - Cheer 7">><</button>>

You head over with your stomach already tightening a little, every step feeling scarier than it should. Coach Moore waits until you're close enough that the rest of the team won't be able to hear a single word. It still feels scary that you're being singled out, of course, but you do appreciate that small gesture. <<if $d12coachmoore is 0>>\ She looks at you for a second with her arms folded, then says, @@.moore;"It was pretty bold of you to just tell the truth like that."@@ @@.player;"What?"@@ you ask, confused. @@.moore;"When I asked who you were two weeks ago,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"Most students would've panicked or tried to dodge it. You didn't. You told me the truth."@@ Your face warms up a little as you remember what you said. @@.player;"Oh."@@ Coach Moore gives a small nod. @@.moore;"I respect that."@@ You stare at her, a little caught off by her directness. There's no smile on her face, no soft tone, nothing comforting about the delivery. The words are... just words. <<else>>\ Coach Moore looks at you for one long second with a sharp expression. @@.moore;"I figured out who our mysterious cheerleader was,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"$cheerleadername, was it?@@ Your stomach drops, and you can do nothing but just stare at her. Coach Moore's mouth twitches a little at the edges. Not enough to count as a smile, but enough to show amusement. @@.moore;"You did a decent job, I'll give you that,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"People don't lie to my face very often."@@ Your face gets hot. @@.player;"Coach, I–"@@ She lifts one hand and you stop. @@.moore;"I respect it, $name,"@@ she says. @@.player;"You... do?"@@ you ask, confused. @@.moore;"A little,"@@ Coach Moore says. @@.moore;"Not the lying part, but the nerve to lie to me."@@ That's not exactly reassuring, but at least it's not as disastrous as it could've been. You let out a small breath. <</if>>\ You manage to sputter out, @@.player;"Th-Thanks?"@@ @@.moore;"Don't thank me yet,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"I'm not done."@@ She resets, looking at you with her, frankly, scary eyes. @@.moore;"I've been informed that Principal Zhang wants faculty reporting on you. Behavior, presentation, clothes. Everything."@@ @@.player;"He wants you reporting on me?"@@ you ask, brows knitting. @@.player;"You're not even one of my teachers."@@ Coach Moore lets out a short laugh. @@.moore;"No, I'm not. You've got Coach Blake for PE. But Zhang expanded it yesterday to every faculty member. Not just your teachers, but the entire faculty."@@ That information lands hard. For a second, you're not sure what to even say. But when you do finally end up speaking, it comes out quieter than you mean it to. @@.player;"So... you're supposed to report me too."@@ @@.moore;"I'm supposed to,"@@ Coach Moore says. You look at her face, trying to read what the hell is going to come next. @@.moore;"But I won't."@@ That's a ''massive'' relief. @@.moore;"And it's not because I'm trying to be anyone's champion or because I have a strong moral compass,"@@ she clarifies. You think of Mr. Bennet and understand that she's not him. @@.moore;"You might've heard that I'm strict but fair,"@@ Coach Moore continues. @@.moore;"That's the reputation I've built here. I enjoy running things that way. And being completely fair here? You've been doing a good job."@@ You blink. @@.player;"As a cheerleader?"@@ @@.moore;"Yes,"@@ she says simply, cutting straight to the point. @@.moore;"You show up every practice, put the work in, and keep up. You did a great job at the two games we've had so far, especially considering that you've just started doing this. I care much more about that than Zhang's little folder."@@ It feels nice to have your efforts acknowledged, even in this context. @@.moore;"And if I'm being honest, I don't like the principal very much anyway,"@@ Coach says, glancing off into the distance. @@.moore;"He genuinely doesn't care about the cheer team or other extracurriculars at all. Everything goes into football."@@ That catches you off guard. It doesn't sound out of character for Principal Zhang, but it's still surprising to hear that. @@.moore;"But that doesn't mean I'm waving everything through without asking any questions,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"I do need to ask you a few things."@@ And just like that, the little bit of relief you'd started to feel gets tangled up in nerves yet again. You're stuck standing in front of her, waiting for whatever happens next. <<button "Will she be as nice as Mr. Bennet?" "Day 25 - Cheer 8">><</button>>

Coach Moore doesn't complicate things. She doesn't waste any time, that's not really how she does things. Instead, she just asks, @@.moore;"$name, why are you in cheerleading?"@@ @@.player;"Why am I in cheerleading?"@@ you repeat, confused. @@.moore;"It's a pretty simple question,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"Why are you here?"@@ Her tone isn't hostile, but that somehow makes it worse. She isn't trying to trap you with this question or anything. She just wants a genuine answer. @@.player;"Well, Jessica needed a replacement after Mandy left,"@@ you say. Coach Moore's brow lifts slightly. @@.moore;"Mandy."@@ You nod. @@.player;"She moved to Iowa so the team needed someone."@@ That gets a short, dry laugh out of her. @@.moore;"Yes, that did make things complicated,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"I was not thrilled about losing a student right before school started. Especially to Iowa of all places."@@ You huff out a small laugh. What's with all the hate for Iowa? @@.moore;"It definitely threw off the numbers,"@@ Coach Moore says. @@.moore;"We had everything planned for ten members. Losing one threw everything off."@@ @@.player;"Yeah, Jessica asked me,"@@ you say quietly. @@.player;"They needed someone, and she asked me to fill in. So..."@@ @@.moore;"So you said yes,"@@ Coach Moore finishes. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ @@.moore;"That explains how you got here,"@@ she says, studying you. @@.moore;"But that doesn't explain why you stayed."@@ She's right. That makes you go silent. Coach Moore notices. @@.moore;"Replacing someone for a week is one thing, but sticking with it after that is another."@@ @@.player;"I don't know,"@@ you say, looking down at your feet. @@.player;"It just kind of... kept going."@@ @@.moore;"That's not an answer,"@@ she says. @@.player;"It's the answer I have right now,"@@ you respond. Coach Moore considers that. @@.moore;"Alright,"@@ she says. @@.moore;"Then let me ask it in a different way."@@ You already don't like how that sentence is going. @@.moore;"If they found another cheerleader tomorrow, someone who could fill the spot properly, would you leave?"@@ That question is a lot harder to avoid. It cuts past all the easy explanations at once. You can't pin it on Mandy leaving or Jessica needing help or the team needing numbers. Coach Moore strips all of that away in one sentence. She boils it all down to a simple scenario. If they found someone else tomorrow, would you leave? You can't answer right away. Coach Moore doesn't push, though. She just waits for a response. Behind you, you can hear the team still running, shoes hitting the gym floor steadily. You try and focus on anything else while your brain processes. I mean, isn't the simplest answer //yes//? That would make sense, wouldn't it? The whole reason you joined was because they needed someone. If they stopped needing someone, then logically, you'd step out. Clean, simple, easy. You could say that and it would sound normal. Maybe even expected. But something in you resists. If Coach Moore had asked you that same question back at the beginning, the answer might have come rather easily. But now it doesn't. Now the thought of leaving doesn't feel so easy anymore. It doesn't feel like stepping out of something temporarily, it feels like giving something up. You look off toward the gym floor for a second, toward the rest of the team looping around in their laps. Jessica, Ashley, Tori, Mia. This whole thing has stopped feeling new and began feeling... familiar in a rather comforting way. The routines, the banter, the stupid little moments in between. Another Tori conspiracy theory, Mia trying to one-up you, Ashley staying cool in the midst of all this nonsense. You hadn't realized how much of it had become normal until Coach Moore asked one blunt question and forced you to look straight at it. But at the same time, maybe you would leave. Hell, maybe you //should// leave. It is pretty weird for you to be on the cheer team. Dangerous, actually. All the cheerleaders are great, but if someone slipped up, it would give Principal Zhang more than enough to expel you. Coach Moore watches your face patiently the whole time, probably seeing more than you want her too. @@.moore;"Well?"@@ she asks at last. You have two possible answers sitting in front of you. <<button "Yes, I would leave the team" "Day 25 - Cheer 9">>\<<set $d25moore1 to false>>\<<trackChoice "D25_Moore_1" "Yes, I would leave the team" "story">><</button>> <<button "No, I wouldn't leave the team" "Day 25 - Cheer 9">>\<<set $d25moore1 to true>>\<<trackChoice "D25_cheer_warmup" "No, I wouldn't leave the team" "D25_Moore_1">><</button>>

<<if $d25moore1 is true>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25CheerStay">>\ <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 24>>\ <<set $d25mooreresult to 0>>\ The answer is there. You can't smooth it into something safer, because that would be like denying yourself the truth. @@.player;"No,"@@ you say. Coach Moore's expression sharpens. @@.moore;"No?"@@ You swallow once before forcing yourself to continue. @@.player;"I wouldn't leave."@@ Once it's out there, it's hard to take back. Not because Coach Moore reacts badly, in fact, she's barely reacting at all, but because the truth of it hits you all at once. You wouldn't leave even if they found someone else. Even if the excuse disappeared. Even if the reasonable explanation for why you're here got taken away entirely, you still wouldn't go. Shit, the realization hits you with dizzying clarity. It's not new, exactly. It's more like something you've been circling around for a while. You never let yourself say it this plainly, at least not until Coach Moore asked you a plain question. But you //like// being here. More than that, really. You like being part of the team in a way that goes past practice. The girls and the conversation and the way you've started to exist around them. You like how it feels to be included, to be one of them. It matters to you. A lot, actually. @@.moore;"You'd stay,"@@ Coach Moore confirms after watching your face for a second. You nod. @@.player;"I would."@@ @@.moore;"Even if they didn't need the replacement anymore."@@ You can't back out now. You can't lie to yourself any longer. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say again. There's no point in pretending otherwise. The thought of leaving feels wrong to you. Not //just// wrong, either, but wrong in a way that's way too personal to be explained by convenience. It doesn't feel like stepping out of a temporary thing. It feels like being pushed out of somewhere you belong. There's something warm about it. You ''want'' to stay. You ''want'' to keep showing up. You ''want'' the team, the practices, the stupid banter, the strange happiness of being part of this. You want all of it. @@.moore;"Alright,"@@ Coach Moore says, giving a slow nod. @@.moore;"I'll keep that in mind."@@ You can't tell exactly what she thinks of that, but it seems like she's seen right through you. Standing there in front of her, with the rest of the team circling the gym behind you, you feel exposed. But not in a bad way, in a necessary way. You just admitted something that's not very easy to admit. You wouldn't leave. Not because they need you, but because you want to stay. <<else>>\ <<set $d25mooreresult to 1>>\ You think about it for a second before shaking your head. @@.player;"No,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I wouldn't leave."@@ Coach Moore lifts her eyebrows slightly. @@.moore;"No?"@@ You shrugs. @@.player;"I mean... if they found someone else, then I guess they //technically// wouldn't need me. But I don't think I'd want to stop."@@ It's very true in a way that surprises you, even as you say it. The thought doesn't come out of nowhere. Not even close. The thought has been sitting there for a quite a while, actually. Cheerleading started as a weird emergency favor, sure, but it's become something else. Something you genuinely like. The team's fun, the atmosphere's fun, even the routines are fun. At least they are when they're not kicking your ass. You don't really //mind// being the only guy there. If anything, part of you kind of likes the oddness of that too. You're fitting into a space people wouldn't have expected you in. The girls have started treating you like an actual part of the team as well, instead of some weird temporary substitute they have to work around. Hell, if you're being completely honest here, there's something about all that that scratches at a certain part of you. The part that's always liked playing with the edges of what people expect a guy to be. You're not //uncomfortable// with your gender, but it does feel kind of fun to experiment. @@.moore;"So you'd stay even if the original reason disappeared?"@@ Coach Moore clarifies. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, nodding. @@.player;"I would."@@ She nods. @@.moore;"Because?"@@ You hesitate a little, but decide to answer honestly. @@.player;"Because I like it here."@@ The words are simpler than the way you're feeling, but they do the job. Coach Moore doesn't react much on the surface, but you can feel that she respects the straightness of the answer. @@.moore;"That's pretty clear,"@@ she says. You laugh. @@.player;"I guess so."@@ You wouldn't leave because, at this point, leaving would feel like giving up something you've actually started enjoying. This weird little place on the team has started to feel like yours. Coach Moore gives one final nod, filing that answer away somewhere. @@.moore;"Alright."@@ And standing there under the gym lights with the team still running laps behind you, you realize that you allowed yourself to actually want to stay. <</if>>\ <<elseif $d25moore1 is false>>\ <<grantAchievement "D25CheerLeave">> <<set $acceptance to Math.clamp($acceptance - 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<set $resistance to Math.clamp($resistance + 5, 0, 100)>>\ <<if $transgender > 24>>\ <<set $d25mooreresult to 2>>\ The answer is stuck in your throat for a few seconds before you force it out. @@.player;"I'd leave,"@@ you say. @@.moore;"You would?"@@ Coach Moore asks, watching you carefully. You nod. Why? Because that's the answer you gave, and now you have to stick by it. @@.player;"Yeah."@@ It sounds reasonable, doesn't it? If they found another cheerleader, someone who could fill the role properly, then that would be that. You stepped in because they needed a replacement. If they stopped needing one, then of course you'd step aside. That's how temporary solutions are supposed to work. Coach Moore tilts her head slightly. @@.moore;"You don't sound very happy about it."@@ @@.player;"I mean, maybe, but that's still the logical answer,"@@ you say a little too quickly. @@.moore;"Logical,"@@ she repeats. You look away for a second, toward the girls still running laps around the gym. Jessica passes by with her usual clean stride. Tori's clearly talking while she runs, because of course she is. Ashley looks like an actual normal person, which is rare at Pacific Crest. Mia's made it competitive, racing one of the girls next to her. But... @@.player;"It's not like this was ever really permanent,"@@ you murmur. @@.moore;"Maybe not,"@@ Coach Moore says, not really correcting you. @@.moore;"But that's not the same thing as wanting to leave."@@ Fuck. You know she's right, because you //don't// want to leave. Not fully. The words "I'd leave" make sense in your brain, but they mess with your heart. Saying it feels like forcing a door shut while your hand is still in the frame. @@.moore;"$name, you're giving me the answer you //think// is supposed to make sense,"@@ Coach Moore says after studying your face. @@.player;"Maybe,"@@ you murmur, letting out a quiet breath. She nods. @@.moore;"Are you sure that's your answer, then?"@@ You go quiet after that. There is no real safe response to this. Not one that doesn't dig up something you are trying very hard to keep underground. The truth sits in your heart, you can tell just by how much the idea of leaving hurts. Not just because cheer is fun or because you like everyone on the team, but because being here just... fills in something deep inside you that you can't quite describe. But because you don't know what to do with it, you just quietly murmur, @@.player;"I'm sure. I'd leave."@@ Coach Moore doesn't challenge you further, instead opting to just nod. @@.moore;"Alright,"@@ she says. <<else>>\ <<set $d25mooreresult to 3>>\ @@.player;"I'd leave,"@@ you say simply, the answer coming with no resistance. Coach Moore nods. @@.moore;"You would?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@.player;"I mean... I got pulled into all of this in the first place."@@ @@.moore;"Because they needed a body?"@@ she asks. You snort. @@.player;"That sounds worse than what actually happened."@@ @@.moore;"It's not worse, it's just to the point."@@ You glance toward the gym floor where the team is still jogging around the court. @@.player;"I don't hate it,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I don't even want out all that badly. I just..."@@ You shrug. @@.player;"It still feels like I stepped into somebody else's thing."@@ @@.moore;"You feel this isn't for you?"@@ Coach Moore asks, attention fully on you. @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say. @@,player;"It's just... not really my thing."@@ And that's really it. Cheer //has// been interesting. In fact, it's been a whole lot of fun at points. The team's grown on you a lot too, it's nice to be surrounded by such supportive people. But if the original reason for being here disappeared, you can't really imagine clinging to it. It still feels a little borrowed. Like you got pulled into another world by accident, did better in it than expected, and ended up staying longer than planned. That doesn't mean that it's yours. Coach Moore raises an eyebrow. @@.moore;"So it's still temporary for you?"@@ @@.player;"Yeah,"@@ you say, @@.player;"Prett much."@@ @@.moore;"Fair enough,"@@ Coach Moore says, having understood exactly what you meant. @@.moore;"You don't sound torn up about it."@@ @@.player;"Well, that's because I'm not,"@@ you admit. @@.player;"I mean, I'd miss some of it. But this was always kind of the plan."@@ That gets the faintest trace of approval from her. @@.moore;"Not a bad answer."@@ <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <<if $d25moore1 is true>>\ <<button "There'll be a lot of time with the team to come" "Day 25 - Cheer 10">><</button>> <<else>>\ <<button "Time with the team is ticking" "Day 25 - Cheer 10">><</button>> <</if>>\

<<set $top to 69>>\ <<set $pants to 69>>\ <<set $outfit to 69>>\ <<set $lowerUndergarment to 69>>\ <<set $shoes to 69>>\ <<set $bra to 69>>\ <<set $glasses to false>>\ After a shower, you manage to stumble back into your room. It really did help work the tension out of your body, washing away all the sweat and filth the day brought with it. Your room is dim, night having come. The bedroom feels private. Safe, even. You sit in your chair and let out a long breath. You lean back and let your thoughts drift. Inevitably, though, they drift in a very specific direction. Fuck, you're //horny//. The thought slides into your head for whatever reason. It's playful, even a little tempting, really. You've still got time before bed, and the quiet of the home around you makes things seem even more possible. Maybe you could use a little more magic to make something... bigger. More interesting than a hand. Your breath hitches as you imagine something slick stretching you. You'd be full in a way that your fingers could never manage. Your thighs press together instinctively, your cock already getting hard at the thought. Should you? <<button "Masturbate" "Day 25 - Masturbation 2">>\<<set $d25masturbate to true>>\<<trackChoice "D25_masturbate" "Masturbate" "story">><</button>> <<button "Maybe another time" "Day 25 - 30">>\<<set $d25masturbate to false>>\<<trackChoice "D25_masturbate" "Maybe another time" "story">><</button>>

The air shimmers with lavender light as you activate your mana. You close your eyes and try to focus on the image in your mind. A penis, larger than your fingers but not //too// large. You're not ready for all that yet. Warmth blooms inside of you, lavender swirling and coalescing until it's something solid. When you dare to look, the dildo rests on the cushioned seat of your desk chair. It's perfect, already glistening with a slick sheen. You reach out hesitantly, your fingertips brushing the tip. Oh God. It's //warm//. It's not hard like plastic either, instead feeling like flesh. It even yields slightly under your touch. A shaky breath escapes as you press it experimentally, watching it bend and spring back. @@.player;"Fuck,"@@ you whisper. @@.player;"I managed to get it lubed, right?"@@ You brush your finger along its length, and sure enough, it's slick. A silken glide that leaves you wondering how exactly it would feel inside of you. Your penis is already half-hard just from looking at it. Hell, you could stop now. You could make the thing disappear and pretend you never summoned it at all. But then you look at it one last time and realize there's no turning back now. You, $name, are going to do this. You shift your weight, your hole clenching in desperate anticipation. It's already aching for it. <<button "Sit" "Day 25 - Masturbation 3">><</button>>

<<set $magicdildoCG to true>>\ <<set $magicdildoCGhair to $hairProg>>\ <<set $magicdildoCGbreasts to $breastsProg>>\ <<set $magicdildoCGpp to $genitalsProg>>\ <<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-magic-dildo"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/bodynormal.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestflat.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestflat.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestsmall.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestmedium.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestlarge.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2short.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2short.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2loose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2loose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/strands.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/strands.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/head.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/faceduring1.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side1.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side1.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppbeforeaverage.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppbeforesmall.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppbeforetiny.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/prostate.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ Your knees tremble as you slowly yourself, inch by agonizing inch, onto the lavender glow of the dildo. The tip breaches your entrance with a small //pop//, making its way past the tight ring of muscle. It steals your breath away, your body instinctively clenching in resistance. @@.player;"Nngh!"@@ you squeak out. @@.player;"S-Slowly."@@ The stretch is pure bliss, euphoria on Earth. It's a hot, slow burn that makes your toes curl and your dick tremble. It's so //thick//, but in a perfect way. You did summon it to match your insides perfectly, of course. The girth is achingly perfect as it sinks deeper, your body slowly yielding as it accommodates the intrusion. Your fingers press into the edge of the chair, knuckles white as you fight back a moan. You can feel every ridge and curve, each one sending jolts of pleasure straight through you. @@.player;"F-fuckkk–"@@ Your head falls back, a moan tearing from your throat as the toy fills you. The warm surface rubbing against every sensitive inch inside. Your muscles flutter around it as you sink lower and lower and– A sound involuntary rips from your throat. @@.player;"Hah! S'big–!"@@ Your hips stutter and your thighs shake as you take more and more, the stretch bordering on too much before tipping right back into pleasure. Your hole greedily adjusts to the intrusion, desperate for more. And then you're fully seated. The base presses flush against your pert ass, the entire length sheathed inside of you. Your body throbs around it. Your penis leaks precum onto your stomach, untouched yet already hypersensitive. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you truly feel it for the time. You're full. So. Fucking. Full. <<button "Filled up" "Day 25 - Masturbation 4">><</button>>

<<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-magic-dildo"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/bodynormal.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestflat.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestflat.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestsmall.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestmedium.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestlarge.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2short.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2short.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2loose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2loose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/strands.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/strands.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/head.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/faceduring2.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side1.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side1.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppbeforeaverage.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppbeforesmall.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppbeforetiny.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/prostate.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ You manage to lift your hips just slightly. You're trembling and frankly uncertain, wondering whether to slide back onto it. Fuck it. You let your weight slam back down, dropping your ass back down onto the chair. The toy strokes inside you in one devastating glide. A spasm runs up your spine, your entire body seizing at the sensation. @@.player;"Holy shittt–"@@ The magic thrums in response, the lavender glow pulsing as the dildo adjusts. It tilts just a little inside of you, the curve now pressing directly against that sweet, swollen prostate of yours. @@.player;"Nngh!"@@ you moan. @@.player;"Right there."@@ You can't stop, but to be fair, you don't even //want// to. Your hands scramble to grip the armrests. You ride in earnest, your hips rocking up and down in frantic bounces. The stretch is just, God, you don't even know how to describe it. It's so much, but it's so //good//. The friction burns through your nerves like liquid fire. <<if $breastsProg is 0 or $breastsProg is 1>>\ Your chest is flat, sure, but your nipples sitll tighten into sensitive peaks as you move. There's actually a certain allure in the absence of breasts, really. The delicious tightness of your body becomes more prominent. <<elseif $breastsProg is 2>>\ Your little tits quiver as you ride, pert and delicate, rolling slightly with each stroke. They're not big enough to bounce much, but they do flutter. Your nipples are peaked, begging for attention. <<elseif $breastsProg is 3>>\ Your breasts move in harmony with your hips, jumping with every snap. They're plush and perky, swaying enticingly as you work yourself up and down. They're round and soft, bouncing just enough that you can't help but grab one, pinching a nipple between your fingers as you moan. <<elseif $breastsProg is 4>>\ Your substantial tits bounce in mesmerizing arcs as you ride the dildo, the flesh jiggling with each thrust. They sway with your movements, smacking against your chest with each downward slide. Each movement sends a delicious shudder through you. <</if>>\ The toy keeps responding to your movements, subtly shifting angles to rub against your prostate with every rise and fall. The magic keeps it perfectly lubed and warm too, not giving you a moment's rest. The pressure is perfect. It's ''perfect''. @@.player;"Hah! Hah!"@@ you pant out. @@.player;"Itstoogood!"@@ Your thighs tremble, your cock absolutely dripping as the pleasure builds. Each bounce sends jolts of white-hot ecstasy straight to your core. The toy seems to pulse inside of you now, massaging your walls in time with your movements. You sob, your rhythm turning sloppy and desperate. @@.player;"Pleaseee,"@@ you beg for release. @@.player;"More."@@ Your toy fucks up into you as you sink down, the dual motion making your vision haze. Your moans turn filthy, as you realize you're well and truly ruined. Claimed, broken, and perfectly fucked. <<button "Cum" "Day 25 - Masturbation 5">><</button>>

<<set _cgMap = new Map([ ["id", "cg-story-magic-dildo"] ])>>\ <<set _cgSources = [ { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/bg.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/backhairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/bodyorgasm.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestflat.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestflat.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestsmall.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestmedium.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/chestlarge.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGbreasts, "requirement": 4 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2short.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2short.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2loose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side2loose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/strands.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/strands.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/head.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/faceorgasm.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairshort.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/tophairloose.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side1.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/side1.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGhair, "requirement": 3 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppcumaverage.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 0 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppcumsmall.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 1 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/ppcumtiny.png", "condition": $magicdildoCGpp, "requirement": 2 }, { "sourceUrl": "img/CGs/magicdildo/prostate.png" }, { "sourceUrl": "img/additional/watermark.png" } ]>>\ \ <<image _cgMap _cgSources>>\ You can't hold on much longer. Your body is wound too tight, and your prostate is begging for release. Your hips buck wildly, the toy hitting that sweet spot over and over and over. You're seeing stars, your voice reduced to incoherent pleas. You're teetering on the very edge, ready to shatter– Whiteout. White-hot lightning strikes your spine, your penis spurting ropes of cum across your stomach, your chest, even your face. The euphoria is so intense that it feels like you've been struck by lightning. Your eyes roll back in your head, vision fading out completely. The room disappears as you get sucked into a world of pure sensation. @@.player;"G-Guh!"@@ Your muscles lock around the dildo still buried inside you. You're lost in a void of bliss, your mind a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations that drown everything else out. Your hole milks the toy to its fullest potential as waves of heaven crash over you. You can't see, you can't think, you can't do anything else but feel the heat, the fullness, and the perfect pressure. But the toy doesn't stop. It doesn't let you have a break. It fucks you through it, thrusting relentlessly as you spill the last of your release, torturing the last of your hypersensitive, post-orgasmic body. When you finally calm down, when your vision clears and you can actually breathe again, you find yourself collapsed forward. Your head is on your cool wood desk as you pant, your body quivering around the now-still toy. @@.player;"Fuckkkk,"@@ you manage to crack, your voice hoarse. Your fingers flex against the wood of the desk, slippery with sweat, as you try to gather your bearings. It takes a few moments before you can even think about moving. The world spins and your heart rate is still elevated. The aftershocks still ripple through you, though. Your body has decided to betray you, twitching around the toy still buried deep inside. Every slight shift sends fresh tremors up your spine, your oversensitive nerves alight with the last remnants of pleasure. @@.player;"Nngh!"@@ You're not sure if you're begging for it to end or to continue. Your hips stutter helplessly, riding out the waves as your penis dribbles the last few weak spurts of semen onto your already-sticky stomach. The toy pulses inside you, the magic having decided to react to your wrecked state. It massages your walls in slow, cruel circles that make your toes curl. Your muscles spasm without your permission, your thighs quake as another aftershock wracks you, and your hole grips the toy like it's the only thing keeping you grounded. You are a mess. A ruined little thing, slumped forward and trembling, struggling to think. You're not ready to let go yet. <<button "Holy shit" "Day 25 - Masturbation 6">><</button>>

Time drifts by in a golden blur. Your heartbeat gradually slows, your breath steadies, and the aftershocks fade. The toy inside you has cooled slightly. The lavender glow dimmed to a soft pulse, but it still feels incredible as you shift a little. Your tongue darts out instinctively, catching a stray pearl of cum clinging to your flushed cheek. The taste bursts across your tongue. It's salty and sweet, a strangely delicious combination. You savor it for a moment, swirling it slowly before swallowing with a satisfied hum. @@.player;"...Okay, I should get up,"@@ your murmur reluctantly, voice wrecked. With shaky arms, you push yourself up, your thighs trembling as you lift your hips. Slowly, //so// slowly, feeling every inch of the toy drag against your stretched, sensitive rim. The glide is smooth and slick. You can't help but to bite your lip as your hole clings to it, reluctant to let go. @@.player;"S-Sooo sensitive..."@@ you whine. You're still a little weak, but do your best to get up anyway. Just as you think you've got your balance, your foot slips slightly on the sticky floor. @@.player;"Ah!"@@ You end up plunging right back down onto the toy in one sudden, shocking thrust. The stretch is fucking brutal this time. Your oversensitive walls clench around the intrusion as a broken moan tears out. The toy decides to press perfectly against your prostate, sending fresh sparks of pleasure up your spine. You can't do anything but writhe for a moment, your hole fluttering helplessly around the girth as a few extra beads of cum you didn't even know were left in you sputter out. Your eyes glaze over as your penis twitches pathetically. But you don't stop, you have to get up, after all. You rise yet again, your body wet with sweat and cum. Then, finally, the tip pops free. A full-body shudder wracks you as your hole clenches around nothing. Your rim is achingly empty now. The toy dissipates in a shower of lavender sparks, returning to wherever it came from as you sway on unsteady legs. Your skin is still tingling, but that was just perfect. But... you're dirty again. Your hair's messed up, your tummy is drenched, and your thighs need a good wash. @@.player;"Why do I always do this //after// showering?"@@ you mutter to yourself. You were perfectly clean, fresh out of the shower, but your decision-making has led you to be disheveled in under half an hour. You draw a hand down your face and sigh. @@.player;"At least it was worth it."@@ <<button "Continue" "Day 25 - 30">><</button>>